The Downfall of a Reporter (Closed for CarnivalBarker)

In only three short months after Walker had won the Mayoral election the town had taken a turn for the worse, at least that is what certain news outlets would have the general population believe. To Walker what insulted him wasn't the fact that the claims were true, but that a newspaper would have the audacity to go ahead and print such information without a reliable source. The truth was that Walker was a corrupt Mayor, he came from a very wealthy family. Wealth that went back generations. Walker was a man of 55 years in age, though he had been a part of the business world for the past 20 years.

In those 20 years he had set up connections, laid the foundations for more and more power. Very powerful people within the city were invested in him, and what most didn't know is that Walker had ties not only to the richest men in the city, but also those who were parts of the seedier aspects of society. Drug dealers, pimps, even gangs. One might think that the world of crime is divided between white collar crimes and street crime, however the reality is its all one big network. Sadly for that great city Walker was the man who helped keep that network nice and lubricated, making sure all the major pieces remained useful.

It was one of the reasons that the whole newspaper ordeal was so troubling. Those that were in the know, knew how dangerous Walker really was, and as a result should also have known just how dangerous it was to get on his bad side. Soon after the first article came out Walker set one of his subordinates to look into the newspaper, and to round up as much information as he could. Almost a month had passed before his aid has finished his investigation. The newspaper went by The Glowing Truth. Under normal circumstances he could have just bought out the business, but The Glowing Truth had been around for decades. They were known for their integrity, and it quickly became apparent to walker that he wouldn't be able to buy off the Chief Editor. He was forced to look into the reporter that was writing the articles.

Surprisingly he found out that she was the only one that was pushing the matter at the office. She was relatively young, though she was very quickly gaining notoriety. The previous year she had done a huge expose on the corruption within the city's police department. A lot of men had gone to prison as a result of her investigations. She was young, headstrong, independent, and most importantly loyal.. Though there had to be something and while he knew simply having her killed would draw attention to him, what he needed to do was find a way to destroy her.. Destroy her in a way that would forever tarnish her credibility... The only question became how...

Another month had passed during which he had slipped the reporter's name throughout the underworld, seeing what came back. Finally something landed. The reporter had a friend, someone she went to the same highschool with someone whom at one stage she had been close with. The girl's name was Jessica. A troubled girl who had led a troubled life, a year ago that life took a turn for the worse when she got mixed into the world of drugs and prostitution. A man like Walker knew exactly where Jessica was, and the moment he found out of the poor girl's fate he knew just how he would deal with the reporter that had become a nuisance.

It took him about a week to get everything planned, after which he set everything into motion. He had sent one of his couriers to deliver the envelope to her home. The envelope had been left in her mailbox. Within the envelope was a letter that read.

"Reagan,

You're the last person I can turn to. Jessica is in trouble. I can't tell you who I am but I can tell you that I have exhausted all legal resources here. If you were still a part of her life you'd know just how bad a shape shes in. I know you're not close anymore, and maybe you don't care, but if your friendship meant anything in the past you'll help her. She was in college when she got mixed up with drugs, a few weeks later she stopped all contact with her parents. A month later she had disappeared from campus altogether. It took me forever but I found her.

The only thing I now for sure is a pimp named Tony has her working the red light district down town. I made the mistake of approaching her and the woman that looked back at me didn't even recognize me. By trying to help her escape I might have inadvertently put her life in even more danger. Since then I've gotten the authorities involved, I've even tried taking matters into my own hands but it seems that Jessica has disappeared from the face of the earth. This.. Tony guy is protected.. By Who? I have no idea... The only thing I know is that Jessica needs to be saved. I've read your work Tiffany, you and Jessica might not be friends anymore but I know a part of you still has to care about her. This Tony guy must have ruined so many lives of girls like Jessica.. Please.. Help.. Enclosed is a picture I was able to take with my iPhone of Jessica and her pimp."

Along with the typed out letter was a printed out photo of Jessica standing in a street corner. She was wearing a black mini skirt that was so short that you could see the bright pink panties she had on underneath. The man next to her was large, the most distinctive feature he had, apart from his size was the tattoo of of a cobra snake that ran all the way long his arm.

Reagan Tennyson sat under the fluorescent lights over her small desk at the offices of The Glowing Truth. She had been here a little over two years, and was beginning to gain some notoriety in her field, even if print media seemed to be a thing of the past. At twenty-five, she was still a cub, but her recent reports had been picked up by national outlets when they resulted in multiple grand juries, even more indictments, and a rash of convictions, principally among the city's police force. One conviction was a significant RICO conspiracy conviction against the Chief of Police, who was involved in racketeering. In that instance, she was convinced the mayor would become implicated and be forced to leave office in disgrace and possibly spend time in the state pen. But the Chief never squealed and she never could find the key witness that could peg the mayor and later tell the same story to the grand jury.

In recent months, she had made occasional television appearances on national cable news, to discuss her reports and how it had cleaned up significant portions of a rather large American city. In addition, local blogs focused on the city and state's cognoscenti had run "fun" features on the girl that was the wunderkind of local news, suggesting she wasn't long for the area because the Washington Post or New York Times would soon come calling. One of the local sites entered her in an annual, March Madness style "Babe Contest," where she finished in the top eight. As a print reporter who was rarely seen, and a new reporter on the scene, the top eight finish was flattering, no matter how much it had nothing to do with why she wrote, but she hated the fact that the website had posted a picture it had gotten from a college photography class she had posed for. The photo of her in roller skates, sitting on the ground was flattering, one of her best. But she believed it undermined her credibility as a reporter.

A professional in most senses, Reagan was still young enough to vividly remember her not-so-long ago college days, but old enough to worry that she was quickly racing out of her prime years. Not yet married, her career had always come first, and now she worried that she would not meet "the one" until she either set aside her word processor and beat notebook, or until she was well beyond her prime child-bearing years. Nevertheless she had recently had a second date with a nice guy from the local District Attorney's office, who she liked. At the same time, she knew that he would inevitably be handed a case originating from one of her reports, which meant it would be again short-lived, or she would have to move away and see him long distance to avoid the appearance of impropriety and using him as a source and, if that were the case, then why bother? She sighed as she looked at the clock. It was 8:30pm, and she could not decide if she should stay and work some more, or go home to an empty condo and get up early to work on her next story, a feature about how the city's drug trade was allowed to thrive because of a gentleman's agreement between city hall and the local gangs to have city officers look the other way if the thugs simply didn't kill people. Rather than make the decision right away, she began sorting her mail from the day.

A letter caught her eye immediately, and she pulled a long, shiny, silver letter opener from her drawer, slicing the envelope open at its seam, and withdrawing a handwritten note and a photograph of a girl, one of many similar prostitutes along the city's main dark thoroughfare. Her breath caught a bit when she realized the girl was her friend from high school, Jessica De Mont. Jessica had been beautiful, vibrant, and loved. Her father had been a good businessman, but had gone broke when the oil and natural gas industry bottomed out, leaving her family struggling and causing a great deal of strife. Nevertheless, they were able to get her to college, but something had happened. Prior to that time, she and Reagan had done everything together from the time they were fourteen. Even now, after years from when Jessica simply moved off campus and cut off contact from her parents and from Reagan as well, she missed her friend. Reagan's hand covered her mouth in disbelief. Perhaps "Tony," whoever he was, had been the reason she was unable to call. What if she wanted to, but she was under his control? What if he, like so many of the city's thugs, thieves, and crooks were able to take advantage of girls like Jessica because City Hall simply looked the other way while the crime bosses filled the mayor's campaign account? The author of the letter suggested that Reagan was the only person that could help pull Jessica from her situation. Perhaps she was, she thought to herself.

Reagan turned back toward the screen of her computer, and immediately pulled up stories about the city's sex trade. Almost none had been done in the previous five years. A quick review of the mayor's financial contributors revealed quite little, and the name Tony did not appear. But a quick background search revealed corporate contributions from three owners of escort services. The services appeared to be more high end than streetwalkers and anything their pimps might peddle. But the connection did suggest that there was some influence peddling working against prosecution of prostitution laws, either against pimps, johns, or the women they used. Reagan looked again at the picture, and noticed the remarkable tattoo of the man next to Jessica. She searched the state criminal identifier database and located reference to no fewer than 121 tattoos described as "snake tattoo," and cross tabbed them to find that 96 of those were located on the "R Arm" identifier in the chart.

Interesting, she thought to herself, while noting that it could be nothing, as she made a note to look into it before searching for the identification of several tattoo parlors in the downtown area. She would ask around about certain tattoos in the morning when she could call the shop owners. She pursed her lips and nibbled on the tip of her pen, looking at the picture of her friend once more. Where are you, Jess? she asked, as if trying to feel her friend's cosmic presence. How can I find you?

A moment later, she pulled a single page form from her desk and began filling it out. The request to perform undercover investigation work would be in her editor's mailbox before she left tonight, so that the editor would find it first thing in the morning.

As always Jeff was the first one in the office. Jeff Miller was a man of 65, the editor and owner of The Glowing Truth, and even though the newspaper was a family business, no one could say that Jeff hadn't paid his dues. He had sacrificed two marriages as a result, and while that aspect of his life wasn't particularly pleasant, in Jeff's mind the one redeeming quality in his life, the one thing he could be proud of was the fact that The Glowing Truth was known for its integrity. It was a little past 5:30am when he walked into the building, as usual made his way to the break room where he made himself a cup of coffee. Thanks to the Keurig machine it was simply a matter of putting in the coffee pod and pressing a button and his coffee was ready within a minute. He made his way into his office, leaving the blinders open as he liked to see what was going on in the 'news' room, so to speak. Jeff was a very hands on boss in the sense that he made sure that he new exactly what his staff was working on. He was even on a first name basis with the janitor, and would even go as far as to strike up small talk with him when he passed, asking about his wife and kids. That is just the kind of man Jeff was. That being said Jeff could also be stern when he needed to be. Integrity was a hard thing to maintain, hard decisions constantly had to be made, the responsibilities of which would lay on his shoulders alone.

As he sat down at his desk he booted up his laptop, while it came on he took a sip of his coffee "Goddammit!" He muttered to himself from the sting of the scorching coffee against his tongue. He set down the cup to let it cool as he directed his attention to the small stack of folders next to his laptop. That was the one thing about being the editor, even when you check out, it didn't mean that the workload stopped coming. Jeff had to overlook and green light every single article that would run on tomorrow's paper. Of course since Reagan was one of the last to leave the night before, her folder was at the top of the stack, as soon as Jeff saw her name he let out a groan. Even before he opened the folder he knew the contents would be trouble. The truth was that Jeff had gone out on a limb when he had hired Reagan, she had little to no experience and the only reason he had hired her was because the woman who ran the gossip column had left the state due to her husband's promotion. Jeff honestly hadn't expected much, though he figured hiring a fresh young face would be a good thing around the office. She stuck to what she was assigned, however it wasn't long before due to her own diligence she was bringing him stories that were far from what he'd assigned her to do. It was a gutsy move on her part, especially since at that stage she had only been at the paper for two months. There was something about her, she lacked experience, however what she lacked in that department she made up for in determination. He gave her a shot... One shot... And she didn't disappoint.

The young woman created her own connections, her own sources, the stories she worked were ones that other newspapers had worked and couldn't yield any credible results. The corruption case that ensued as a result of Reagan's article was unbelievable. While it wasn't the first time Jeff's paper had been responsible for such an upset, it was certainly the first time it had been accomplished with someone so young. She had shown the determination as well as durability of veteran reporter. In Jeff's mind however the only real problem was that she was rising too fast. In the thirty plus years he had been in the business he had seen success get to people, especially those who got it too quickly. Since her breakthrough article she had branched out in the sense that she was getting lots of local attention. The television news stations, even magazines had interviewed her. After which Jeff had forced Reagan on desk duty for two months despite the stories she wanted to be working on.. Reagan might have seen it as punishment, but there was far more to being a real reporter than simply being in the lime light. On top of that what Reagan might not have realized was the story she broke had put a HUGE target on her back, the newspaper itself had gotten considerably more hate mail than it was used to after her big case.

Jeff tried to be as protective of her in his own subtle way when he could. Though he wasn't her father and at the end of the day she was an employee, a damn good one at that. "Alright Reagan.. What is it this time.." He said to himself, though it was spoken as if Reagan was there... Those exact words were ones he had spoken to her many times in the past.. He pushed his glasses back up with his index finger as he pulled the report closer. His eyes scanned the document as he murmured to himself "undercover?" as he continued to read. "Jeez kid.. THIS is what you want to throw yourself into?" he said to himself as he got to the end of her request. He pushed the paper back onto his desk as he picked up his coffee, taking a small sip as he wondered exactly what to do. Some time had passed since Reagan's big story, and while he had made sure that she was still on the front page every so often, the truth was that there was STILL a lot of demand for her. For the sake of the paper it wasn't smart for him to be sitting on an asset like Reagan and not making use of her.. Jeff was fully aware that Reagan had a gift for sniffing out the truth and even as he was reading through her request he could tell she had already started working on the story its what any good reporter would have done, hell its what HE would have done.

Jeff had a bad feeling about this one, from everything she had written in her request something seemed off, seemed... Wrong.. Of course that wasn't nearly enough reason to deny her from pursuing the story. After all she had brought down an entire corrupt police department, a situation where she had come out on top. He picked up the phone and dialed Reagan's work extension, he waited for the beep before speaking. "Alright kid.. You're up. I want an email of the details asap. This time I'll need weekly updates." He hung up as he wondered if he had made the right call. Second guessing himself isn't something Jeff did often, and he was sure that as the day went he'd feel more secure in his decision, yet in that particular moment that lingering feeling of something ominous remained...

The next morning came early, and Reagan found herself at a local coffee shop, one hand wrapped around a ceramic mug of chai while the other pecked away at her laptop. A cold rain threatened to turn into sleet as the early hint of winter started to brush the region, seemingly earlier than before. The dreary day served as a reminder that she had not gotten enough sleep, and she sat her coffee down long enough to cover her mouth as she yawned. She resumed her caffeine infusion immediately as she continued working on her latest endeavor. The beauty of the journalism profession was that she was largely free to be as creative as she wanted, which meant that on big projects, the ones she was truly interested in, deadlines and methods were not required, so long as sources were sound. She expected that Jeff would ask for some more information if he approved her proposal and she knew that she had gambled by quickly spitting out a request before having secured a source and a plan first. Journalism 101. She suddenly felt like a failure, though her desire to find and help her friend had not waned. She sighed and set aside her reading glasses, picking up her cell phone and dialing in to the office. Her face lit up as she listened to her voicemail, hearing Jeff approve her suggestion though, as she had expected, asking for complete details ASAP. She knew she needed to double down on finding a way into the world she sought to infiltrate.

She put her glasses back on and returned attention to the screen. If I wanted to be a sex worker, how would I find out about sex work? She sat quietly for a moment, pondering the question. She was cute, not on drugs, probably too clean for the trade, probably exactly what the market was looking for, a rare commodity, the girl next door that really had been and was the girl next door. She worried that without a good cover, she might not get to her friend and she might not get a story. Worse, she might get in trouble, perhaps even hurt. She thought about an ad on Craigslist, but then thought she was not seeking to attract johns. She could not expect any assistance from the police, who would know the players in the trade. They were likely on their side and, moreover, would probably treat her worse than the pimps and services would. She put aside the process a moment to follow up on the quest she had started the day before. Hacking at her computer, she searched for contact information for tattoo parlors downtown. Moments later, she was on the phone, dialing them one by one.

After forty-five minutes of calls, she had learned little. The artists she spoke with recalled the occasional snake tattoos, but nothing seemed linked. Some customers were frat boys that liked snakes. Some were bikers that might have gotten a snake alongside some skull art. Nothing pointed to any criminal behavior or connection to "Tony" or the city's pimps and hoes. She returned to the Google listing and clicked on the next parlor, determined to finish her call list. When she did, she felt as if light fell through the crack in a slightly opened door.

The Tattoo Parlor was named Inkwell Inc., but the website caught her eye. The address appeared to be a residential location, and the border on the main page featured tiny replications of art the parlor offered, repeated as a design rather than offered as an example. At first blush, it simply looked catchy, but one of the designs was repeated less than the others in the display. A small snake, with two tiny X's behind it's head. Reagan opened her portfolio and pulled out the photo of Jessica and the man with the tattoo. She noticed the snake on the man's arm had two small X's on its body. She put away her phone and put away her laptop. Grabbing her coffee, she got in her car and raced home, where she flung open her drawers and began pulling out clothes.

Reagan stood, nibbling on her lower lip as she looked at her options. Though she was no virgin, she had also never been a slut. She could dress cute, sexy even. But for a place and a trade that might be pretty hard core, she couldn't look like sweet Reagan, the girl that had been a cheerleader and on the track team, who was in the homecoming court for football and basketball all three years she was in high school. She could not look like a cum laude graduate as much as she needed to look like someone that might cum loudly. She stepped with precision into her small closet, pulling out the only thing should could think of that might work. A while later, she stood in front of the mirror in some tiny, tight, pocketless, black booty shorts that any college girl might wear to a club, and a small, peach colored top that was little more than a too-small tee shirt that revealed her firm stomach if she reached even as high as shoulder height and showed nearly every inch of her arms with its tiny sleeves. It was a regular, week-day morning and though she looked sexy, and a bit dirty, she looked like a typical young girl with only part-time employment that might cruise into a tattoo parlor to kill some time and look at some art that she might have done. She straightened her hair and made it look not quite so finished and put on some comfy, but strappy, platform sandals before grabbing her matching black purse. With one more look, she thought she could pull off her mission and headed to find the owner of Inkwell Ink. Twenty minutes later, she had found it.

When she arrived, she noticed that the place was little more than the back garage of a condo unit near the industrial district, just on the edge of the nearest highway service road. A tiny bell announced her presence and a moment later, a somewhat dirty, older Mexican man walked from the back room that divided the waiting area from the rest of the shop.

"Que paso!" He said more to himself than her. "Hello there," he took her in from head to toe. "I hope that you're the canvas I get to paint on today," he said, leering. Reagan smiled sincerely at the way men were more than the way this man was. His dirty beard was unkempt and he looked like he hadn't bathed in several days. He looked like he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in at least that long.

"Well, maybe," she replied. "I'd like to look at some samples," she said. "I hear you do good work." The man raised his eyebrows, as if curious.

"Who told you that?" He asked. Reagan was unprepared for questioning that wasn't hers.

"Oh, uh.....just some people," she said, giving no further specific, but giving a wide smile and a bat of her pretty eyelashes, prompting the man to back away from any need to know a better answer.

"Well my book is right here," the man said, sliding a large portfolio to her. "Where are you looking to get ink?" Reagan grinned again, since he did not ask what sort of tattoo she wanted. She suspected the man was eager to see the crack of her ass, or the flat of her stomach, possibly even the low point of her hip or the shaved place just above where her treasure lied. She suspected he would be okay seeing her lower back or bare shoulders as well.

"I don't know," she said, thickening her southern drawl just a bit. Guys liked when she did that, and it had gotten her into a lot of places, and a lot of trouble. "I'm just looking right now." She flipped through the pages, going past the more hard core section of skulls, blades, guns, and similar art, as if she were not interested. After looking at some fairies and some tribal designs, some butterflies and some more abstract art that might look good upon the skin of an athletic body with a nice bronze skin tone, she acted as if she found nothing she liked. She quickly thumbed through the entire book one "last" time, slowing as she came to the section that featured snakes. Noticing several in various poses, she noticed that some had the same, small X's behind their head, as in the photo of the man with Jessica and as in the parlor's internet ad. Immediately she decided to play dumb.

"I like these snakes," she grinned, leaning a bit forward over the counter toward where the man leaned back as she flipped through the book. She pointed at one with the X's and asked how much to get two of them, one on each side of her lower back, just above her waistline. The man gave a bit of a subdued chuckle.

"Eres ustedes Rinkhalis?" He asked, one eyebrow raised. "No se puede." He shook his head with a smile that said he was sorry to tell the beautiful girl no. "You can't have that one," he said. She smiled and played dumb still.

"But I like that one," she smiled again. "Did you say," she knew only minimal Spanish. "Did you say I am wrinkled?" The man laughed again.

"No, baby," he said, looking her up and down once more. "You certainly are not. Rinkhalis. You do not want to be Rinkhalis." He let out a low, lustful whistle as a construction worker might while watching an attractive woman walk by. "No you do not." He shook his head again.

"Who are Rinkhalis?" She asked, feeling she was on to something.

"The Rinkhals," he said. "They are nobody to mess with sweetheart. But they would love to mess with you, I promise you that." His face took a dark tone just before he changed the subject. "I can do anything else for you," he said, nodding at the portfolio. She glanced at it once more and then pulled her purse over her shoulder again.

"Let me think on it," she said. "I'll be back." She smiled and walked out the door. Two hours later, she sat at her work desk as one of her colleagues walked by.

"What are YOU wearing," the guy, Brandon, asked. She looked down and realized she never changed and still looked ready for a barbecue followed by a tawdry game of seven minutes in heaven. She blushed and pulled on a grey zip hoodie that she kept in her typically cold office.

"I was on assignment earlier," she said, satisfying her co-worker who nevertheless checked out her tan, firm thighs once more before leaving the area. She returned to the email in front of her. In it, she explained her findings that the Rinkhal is an African spitting viper often confused for a spitting cobra. One of its key offensive weapons in its place in the food chain was to lie around and play dead, shortly before rising into place to strike through a spray or a bite. If attacked, one could die a quick and painful death, making it a predator not to be messed with. In the 1990s, a moderate sized group of African nationals arrived in San Diego with bad intentions. They had found a market for girls and women across the continent of Africa and quickly arranged a relationship with the Mexican cartels to serve as drug mules and conduits, franchisees in the United States for the drug trade. In exchange, the cartels would participate in kidnapping activities in resort towns and along the United States border. The nationals, adopting the gang name of The East Side Rinkhals, later simply shortened to the Rinkhals, accepted kidnapped women in trade for their service as drug and mules and peddlers. The cartels made money without losing costs in their trade, and the Rinkhals monopolized the sex trade in America and made fortunes off that. As both trades grew, the Rinkhals infiltrated other cities. Most cities learned of them after their membership became quite large and unruly, making the city unsafe and ungovernable in the area of crime enforcement. They marked themselves with tattoos of snakes, always on the right arm, and always featuring two small X's somewhere on the body. Often, the X's went unnoticed and often, as a result, law enforcement did not catch onto their presence until they rose up and committed some heinous deed. Some members would get caught, sure, but others would profit heavily and the group would reconstitute itself and perpetuate its existence to carry on another day.

The numbers of prisoners with snake tattoos in the city jail, and state prison system, suggested the Rinkhals were here. They were lying in wait, as they do, as Rinkhals do. Reagan's conversation with the tattoo artist told her that they were not just here, but that they were organized. A search of the archives also revealed that the city desk reported on the abduction or disappearance of 11 girls between the ages of 17 and 23. In the last three months alone. Though nothing pointed to any gang activity or link in the disappearances, she intended to find out. It would be the focus of her now-begun investigation. Her hypothesis was that the sex trade was thriving here. Pimps and hoes on the street were a cover....her friend Jessica, she was probably part of the cover. Perhaps she was too used up and defeated by the time the Rinkhals got to her. But the Rinkhals made real money on the missing girls who could be taken across the border and shipped overseas, if not shipped directly, for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Multiply this across cities across the Southwest and the East Coast, where they had been known to operate from Miami to New York, and combine it with bought off politicians willing to turn their corrupt police force the other way and you had a recipe for a fortune to be made on the firm skin of America's young women, corrupt politicians to directly profit and gain power from their bodily sacrifices, and crime to threaten people everywhere. The potential of this story could be huge. Reagan had potentially, in a single day, stumbled upon a story that could show her a path to a Pulitzer Prize.

Jeff hadn't seen Reagan in the office all day, though he wasn't exactly surprised since Reagan wasn't the kind of girl who liked to waste time, especially since he had not only given her a green light but had asked for some details. Her last article had caught him off guard and while he had stuck by her some of the backlash from the higher ups made life difficult for a little while. It wasn't anything Jeff couldn't handle, after all he was well versed in the type of intimidation that some organizations would go to in order to stay in the clear. Jeff had partly lamed himself for not being more involved in what Reagan was doing. This time round he'd take all the legal precautions he needed to while Reagan was on the job, something that would be easier done if she gave him regular updates.

He had taken the afternoon off for his dentist appointment and had actually gotten the email from Reagan while in the waiting room. He scanned through the text and as he did he could definitely feel the truth behind the story. The story seemed both outrageous and far fetched at the same time and if anyone other than Reagan had brought it to him he might have asked for a little more. Gangs, world wide sex trade, drug smuggling. Whatever Reagan was onto was big. A corrupt police chief was one thing, but something like this.. Something this large in scale, it was hard to believe that it would be allowed to go on without some seriously high level government types being paid off. It most likely wasn't even limited to their country.

The more of Reagan's email he read the more it seemed as if this was a very large and elaborate network, it was the kind of thing that could swallow someone like Reagan whole. The Rinkhals as Reagan had called them were part of something bigger, of course Reagan must have known that as well. His first instinct was to partner her up with someone, someone with a little more experience. The real reason being that he wanted someone to keep an eye on Reagan. Sadly however he knew better than that, he knew there was no way Reagan would share her story.

Jeff hated typing on his tablet, a part of him was still getting used to the way the world was changing so quickly, at least when it came to technology anyway. It seemed every year some new piece of technology was released, changing the way people interacted with one another. It did make life easier in a lot of ways however in order to keep up Jeff was forced to adapt, something he was still in the process of doing. He gave Reagan a quick reply.

“I'll look into these Rinkhals and let you know what turns up. I still have a few connections at the local precinct. This looks big Reagan, bigger than your last story. This is why I tried to shield you from the media shitstorm that followed your article, its never a good thing when the reporter becomes the story. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that if someone recognizes you, you won't live to tell the tale.”

It was Jeff's way of trying to give her a heads up about what she was getting into, though if she had already started working on it she must have already gotten a glimpse of what kind of danger surrounded that world. These types of men sold human lives for profit, that kind of organization doesn't stay in business without burying bodies and if Reagan wasn't smart she would very much become one of those bodies.



The Lucky Rabbit was a strip club that was on the outskirts of the red light district. While the red light district catered to the working man, men who were of a higher class liked to keep their distance. By keeping The Lucky Rabbit outside the red light district it gave the club a little more legitimacy, though the price of keeping the business running where it was wasn't easy. The public was happy for places like the red light district to exist as long as everything stayed in its place. It was an old fashioned way of thinking, a way of thinking that even The Lucky Rabbit was a victim of. Given the clientele the owner had worked out a deal with one of the local politicians. Zoning wouldn't be an issue, however the price was that the particular politician would receive a little more than what was on the menu. The politician's name was Fred Parker, though he liked to go by Freddy. He was a man in his mid 50s, a married man with three grown kids. Though that didn't stop him from picking out strippers like he was a kid in a candy store.

The dancers themselves weren't too happy about the deal since they saw a fine distinction between what they did and what hookers did. Sadly The Lucky Rabbit was the last stop for a woman who wanted to stay off the streets. So no, the women weren't exactly happy to indulge Freddy, however it was either one John who is at least clean, or work the streets were even safety was an issue.


The owner of the club was someone who liked to micro manage, and as a result he was rarely ever at the club. The man who ran the place was the manager in charge, a man by the name of Sean Davis. A man in his late 30s, missing a patch of hair that was starting to gray and a little on the overweight side. With a clipboard in hand he started to make his way across the empty tables, he motioned to one of the barmaids to come over, his attention on the clipboard as he spoke to her “Claire who is working the stage tonight?” The young woman was in her early 20s and had been at the club for a few years at that point. While she really didn't have any managerial title, she was Sean's go to' girl. “Umm Sapphire is taking the prime time hours, and Candy is doing the late late shift and ummm-” before she could continue “No no.. I want Candy to take the busy time slot. Winter is going to hit us a lot sooner than it did last year, which means our customers will be making extra stops throughout the week before they head home. We need to make sure our customers want to come here over getting a $50 bj from the red light district. Candy knows how to really put on a show and sweet talk the big spenders.” He said to her as he scribbled on the clipboard. “You got it boss!” Claire replied as she made her way back to the counter.

It wasn't an easy club to run, part of the reason behind his hair loss had been the stress of the club, a times he really thought the club was more trouble than it was worth. There were currently two girls working the main stage. One was Tammy, a girl in her late 20s, a single mother of a 4yo boy, and the other went by the name Crystal. She'd just turned 19 a few months back, and had been working at the club for about two months. She was slender, blonde, and barely 110lb. The girl was gorgeous, the only problem was she was very new. She still hadn't gotten used to the idea that she was taking her clothes off for money, more than that the girl had almost no experience when it came to sex, while she wasn't a virgin she'd only had one boyfriend throughout her teenage years.

While some men were into that sweet, shy and innocent routine, the regulars wanted a girl who knew what she was doing. In time Crystal could could be the headliner at the club, however until she toughened up she'd be stuck as either a hostess or working the slow hours during the day. Worst of all Crystal seemed to be Freddy's favorite. He was the kind of man who got turned on by praying on the innocent. The first time he had picked out Crystal Sean had warned him that she wasn't used to that kind of thing, and that he might be happier with someone a little more experienced. Of course Freddy was quick to point out that their agreement gave him access to ALL the female employees. Sean really had no choice but to order Crystal into one of the private booths. Freddy had been in there with here for a good hour the first time. He'd walked out of the booth with a very lazy grin on his face. He had just finished fixing his tie as he gave Sean a pat on his shoulder as he passed him “That one is a winner” he said casually as he walked out, he waved in the air as he spoke over his shoulder in a raised voice “For her I might have to stop by twice a week!” letting out a chuckle as he walked past the bouncer.

When Sean finally made his way back to the booth he saw Crystal on her knees, she was completely naked, her mascara was running, and as she looked up at him he could still see her eyes were wet as if she'd only just stopped crying. “I'm sorry kid...” He said to her with a sigh. For all of his words Sean knew that there wasn't a thing he could do to actually help the girl, short of letting her go, in which case she'd no doubt end up IN the red light district. The truth was that girls like Crystal didn't have much of a future. She was 19 and working the pole, if she didn't end up selling her body now she would do so later on. He walked over to her and as he did she recoiled and started to pull back. He paid no attention to her reaction as he gripped her by her upper arm and pulled her onto her feet. The girl smelled of sex, sweat, and shame. “Get yourself cleaned up and take the night off.” He had said to her, the only real kindness he could show her.

The trip down memory lane was fun but didn't last long as Sean glanced at the bottom of the piece of paper attached to the clipboard he saw that the date was circled twice. “Great...” He said to himself. The twin circles meant it was the day that Freddy would be stopping by, which would explain why Crystal seemed extra jittery on stage.

One of the perks of undercover work was the budget you got to create your persona, and Reagan grinned to herself as she sorted through the campus corner specialty shop's racks looking for anything that might help her pass off who she was supposed to be. She slid each hanger across the rack, looking carefully at the party tee shirts, the soft gym shorts, the white embroidered casual shorts, and the windbreakers, until she found the combination that she wanted to try on. Taking them into the dressing room, she thought that she would certainly need some new clothes that were not marked with a sorority logo, since college girls didn't always wear their letters. But if she was going to sell it, then she needed authenticity and figured her history as a Chi Omega would allow her to get by. Her favorite outfit in the mirror made her look exactly like she had a number of years ago, when she would go run to and from the gym each morning for her workout in black running shorts that said "Chi Omega" on the butt, along with a red, sleeveless tank top with letters on the front. She sighed as she looked at herself one more time. The tiny clothes still fit, and she wondered how she made it through four years looking like this and not meeting a husband. Laughing at her silly mental detour, she tried the other outfits on before walking out to pair them with some casual jeans, a few casual tee shirts, and some strappy heels and boots. "All the world is a stage," she thought as the cashier rang up two hundred and eighty dollars of clothes that she never thought she would wear again once she had graduated. An hour later, she stood in the white shorts and the same peach shirt she had worn earlier, cute as a button, as she walked into the Lucky Rabbit.

Her plan was a simple one, and she hoped it would work. She would try to get a job in one of the more mid-level strip clubs in the city. The girls there would likely be cute, certainly some that the businessmen in the area would want to fuck, but none that were high enough class that they would be missed if they turned up missing. She suspected that if the Rinkhals were active here, some of them would appear at such places to scout talent and identify their prey. Her idea was based on a simple hunch and nothing more, but there was nothing that said she had to be right the first time. The evening was early and she made her way to the front of the Lucky Rabbit, where a small window opened to a booth where cover charges were paid.

"Is there anyone here I can...." before she completed her sentence, the rather brutish man in the booth pointed at the sign over the window and then directed her further around the corner to the entry gate to the strip club proper. Turning her eyes to the sign, she laughed to herself. "EVERY NIGHT IS LADIES NIGHT - FREE ADMISSION," the sign read. Of course. A bunch of horny guys willing to pay money to be with girls bearing their bodies inside? Any club would want them to stay, and that meant girls that would actually be there and not work needed to be there so the guys could have access. She moved forward to the entry where a bouncer asked her for her ID.

Shit! She thought, realizing she had not bothered to make a fake ID with an undercover name and age. She thought quickly.

"Oh, shit," she said. "I'm uh.....I'm not here to drink or anything," she told the bouncer. "I'm looking for the manager so that I can apply to work here." The bouncer flashed a toothy grin and noticed her smooth skin below the open legs of her shorts.

"Hey, Sean D!" The bouncer shouted over his shoulder toward the bar, where the room had yet to fill very much at all at this still early hour. A man approached the bouncer and quickly made eye contact with the little girl standing there. The bouncer still looked at her as a wolf might view an unlucky rabbit. "Little bit here is asking for an application. Please hire her," he said, not even hiding his thoughts and perhaps intentions. The man that approached smirked and looked her up and down.

"An application?" He asked. "You sure you know what you're getting into at a place like this?" He inquired.

"Well, I've waited tables several years at a country club. I know you were seeking hostesses and waitstaff," Reagan said in response.

"You don't want to dance?" The bouncer piped up. Before she could respond, the man turned to him and gave a stern look.

"Shut up, Jeremy," he said. Turning back to the girl, relieved she was not asking to be a stripper, he introduced himself. "I'm Sean," he said, offering his hand.

"Megan," she told him, creating her name on the fly. "Megan Carlisle."

"Come with me," he said. He led her through the main room, where a couple of girls wobbled on stage in a futile effort to look sexy. One looked strung out, old beyond her years, and sort of seemed to phone her performance in. The other girl seemed very young. If she was eighteen, her biggest draw was likely the fact that she didn't look over 15. Reagan got a chill thinking of how girls so young, and perhaps younger, could be in such a trade and where it could lead them. They were why she wanted to do this story and find her friend. As she followed Sean into a small office, he asked her why she wanted to work at a club.

"Money," she said. "I might make three or four hundred in tips each month at a restaurant, but I've heard I might make that in a week if the guys here liked me." Sean nodded.

Goddamn, they WILL like you, he thought to himself as he watched her firm body move to sit in the chair across from his desk. Already he worried for the girl, having seen this happen many times. A girl would come in looking for a hostess or bartender job. After a while, guys began doing two things: telling him to get the cute hostess to dance or offering the hostess private gigs to tend bar at parties at their homes, which typically resulted in giving the girl drugs, money, or both, to simply let the guys have their way with the girl, who by that time could not resist the extra dough. At the same time, while he felt bad for many of them, his job was to hire attractive girls to bring in guys with money willing to spend that money on the idea that the girls would give them their attention and, perhaps, their bodies. This girl was young, firm, tan, athletic, pretty, and damn cute. There was no reason not to hire her.

"When can you begin," Sean asked her after she completed an application.

"I could start tonight if you needed someone," she said, wondering if she was too eager.

"Tell you what," the manager said. "I don't need anybody tonight, but I want you to watch the room for a couple of hours. Get a feel for what goes on here, who our clientele are. I'll introduce you to Claire, and you can shadow her for a bit. If you still think you want to work here, then you can begin tomorrow, 4pm until close. Will that work?"

"Oh, yes!" Reagan said, every bit as eager as she might have been had she been a real girl needing a job at this place. It had been too simple, which could only be because looks alone was the only qualification necessary to apply. A short while later, she sat at the edge of the bar with an ice water in front of her as Claire told her about some of the methods and means behind the Lucky Rabbit.

"Mostly you just need to make sure the guys get as many drinks as they want, and if they don't want any, you sit on their lap or bat your pretty eyes at them until they do," Claire said, revealing nothing a hot girl did not already know how to do. "And Megan, watch out for regulars who tip REALLY well, because they sometimes expect, well....." her voice trailed off.

"They expect what?" Reagan asked. Claire's eyes darted over to the rope that separated the main stage area to the private booths.

"They expect favors," Claire said. "They don't expect it, actually. What they will do is they will offer it in exchange for more money. But you're a hostess," she continued. "And Megan, you seem really sweet. I won't tell you what to do, but be careful. You can make good money here, and you can pay for your school and fun. But you can get lost here, too." She turned to a customer that had walked up for a beer. As she did, Regan's eyes scanned the room, looking for snake's on anyone's body. Seeing none, she noticed that the room developed a bit of a commotion as one older man came through the curtains from the private room area, where he seemed to be congratulated by several other men, most of whom seemed to be regulars. He smiled and slapped them on the back, before whispering something to one of the security staff who quickly walked into the private area alone, while speaking into his wire that served as a communication device for the security and bouncer team.

"Who's that?" Reagan asked Claire, her head nodding toward the older man.

"That," said the bartender, stopping for drawn out effect. "That is Freddy," she completed her thought with a sigh. "You'll get to know him real well," she continued. "And soon enough." Claire walked away, clearly uncomfortable with something. Reagan turned her eyes back to the man who was now sitting facing the stage. A young girl named Crystal was announced to dance, and after a moment or two, the DJ sounded the news across the small crowd.

"Gentlemen, Crystal is going to be out a little bit later, so we have a few moments before Sasha comes out. Take a minute to order a drink or some food from your hostess as she comes by. Or, if you are feeling like a Lucky Rabbit, find one of the girls and drag her into the Rabbit's Den, where the bunnies like to PLlllllayyyyyy!" One of the men near the man called Freddy leaned over and said something to him before laughing and offering a high-five. Reagan wondered what the celebration was about. At the same time, inaudibly to Reagan across the length of the bar, Claire said something under her breath.

"Goddamn Freddy," she whispered. "Leave Crystal alone." Reagan sipped her ice water, and continued to look around. She wondered if she had made a mistake, since she noticed not a single sign of any gang and not a single snake tattoo of any sort. She reminded herself to be patient. Today was basically the first day of any real undercover work. Such an effort could take months, perhaps even years. Her observations were broken up as the DJ spoke once more.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention to the main stage and give it up for Saaaaaaah-Shaaaaaaaaa!" The music ground to a halt as the lights went low, just a moment before heavy metal music blared and another young-ish girl took the main stage, gyrating and generally looking sexy, if dead behind the eyes. The place seemed very much like any ordinary strip club, to Reagan. She wondered who might have the information she needed, or if anyone here did at all. Moments later, Jeremy, the bouncer that let her in the door, stepped up to the bar. He gave Reagan the once over with his leering eyes, causing her to all but feel his cock inside her he was so overt, before addressing Claire.

"Can you get me some ice?" he asked the girl behind the bar. "Crystal hurt herself. It's for her."

"Sure she did," Claire said, filling a plastic bag with ice before handing it to the bouncer. "Here you go." Her comment seemed odd to Reagan. Claire knew something that wasn't being spoken. Perhaps Claire could be her unknowing informant, at least long enough for Reagan to get into the world in earnest. For now she would observe, and find out who she could trust, if anyone.

“Thanks Jeremy” Sean said to the bouncer as he was handed the bag of ice. Jeremy gave Sean a nod “Yeah. No worries” he replied, glancing over at Crystal one last time before he shook his head as he stepped out of the booth. “Here.. Tilt your head back, okay... Now...” He said softly as Crystal tilted he head back slightly as Sean lowered the bag of ice over her right eye. She winced as the cold bag touched her skin but didn't say anything. “Its alright its not that bad... The swelling should go down by tomorrow” he said in a tone that sounded optimistic. He reached down with his free hand and took Crystal's wrist, he pulled her hand to the bag of ice as he spoke “Just hold it like this”. He gently released the bag of ice as Crystal held onto it. He remained crouched in front of her as the girl sat on her feet. Her skimpy bikini top and thong were discarded on the floor, after what Crystal had endured getting covered up again was the least of her worries. Sean reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin and gently wiped her lips clean. The trail of semen had run down to her chin, and as he wiped the translucent droplets off her chest he made sure that his touch was as sensitive as possible.

In the state that Crystal was in that moment, Sean would have no trouble at all if he wanted to force her onto her back and violate her himself. Its not like Crystal would be able to do anything about it. The only reason she didn't recoil from Sean was the knowledge that he wasn't like that. Sean might not have protected her like a decent human being might have done, however he wasn't quite a monster either. He threw the soiled tissue into the tiny bin next to the seat as he picked up Crystal's thong and top and placed them on the edge of the small circular table. “Why don't you take the rest of the night off hmm?” He said to her as he started to get back up. Crystal let out a low groan “Nnnnggg...” before adding “No... You.. Know I can't.. I have to be on.. Stage.. Next” as if she understood that while being sexually assaulted meant something in the outside world, where she was in that moment it meant very little. “I wasn't asking.. I'll get Claire to handle your shift until Candy checks in...” Sean then added under his breath “And now I have to go smooth things over with Freddy” His words were loud enough for Crystal to hear as she spoke quietly “I.. I don't want to do this anymore Sean... He-” She'd made the mistake of trying to pull her head up and as she did she'd accidentally pressed the bag of ice tighter against her eye which caused her to wince.

“I know... I know...” Sean said to her in a similarly soft tone. It was the same conversation the two had had many times in the past few months. Sean knew that there was no way to control Freddy, and what Freddy wanted, Freddy would get. What he could do was control his staff, and while it was one thing to cater to the sexual needs of an old perv, it was another to let him rape one of his workers over and over again. Sean had taken her to the side that first time and explained to her how it might not be he best place for her, that she was a young girl, a pretty girl. She could work someplace clean, hell any burger joint would be glad to have her, that it would be better than having to put up with what Freddy asks of her. She hadn't said much, the conversation ending with Crystal telling him that she'd think about it. He knew right then and there that Crystal would never be able to leave the lifestyle. She was no doubt raised on one kind of abuse or another. The only relationships she must have had would have been with men like Freddy. He knew that it wouldn't be long before Crystal would just give in to Freddy. She was a cute kid, but even at the young age of 19 her life was over.. If he didn't make use of her, someone else would. At least with him he could keep the damage to a minimum. His tone changed completely as he said to her “Just... Go home for tonight..” His voice deliberately sounding cold, and even a little disappointed as he left the booth.

It would force her to straighten up and get her act together if she thought Sean was getting tired of her antics. After all the other dancers didn't make nearly as big of a fuss when it came to Freddy, they all seemed to accept it. Crystal hated being on stage, hated the way the men would look at her, hated the way she was forced to act in front of them, and worst of all she hated the way she had to endure the worst of what Freddy had been doing to her for the past few months. She also knew that if Sean fired her, she'd have nowhere else to go. She had no skills, no qualifications, and no education. She knew the reputation of the other strip clubs and they weren't much different than brothels. No.. She couldn't afford to lose her job a The Lucky Rabbit. Nor could she quit and work at some crummy minimum wage job, no she'd been through too much. Everything she'd gone through had to pay off somehow, and she refused to give in.

As Sean exited the booth and entered the main area, Freddy was still at the front of the stage, and he noticed Sean right away as he'd stepped out. He started walking towards Sean and even before Freddy could say a word Sean raised his hand and preemptively silenced him “I know.. I know... I'll make it up to you.. Just... Give me ten minutes? Alright? Ten minutes!” He said finally holding up both his hands as if in defeat before he walked past Freddy altogether and started making his way towards the bar. Freddy yelled out from behind him “I HAVE PLACES TO BE SEAN... I DON'T NEED TO PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT!” His voice traveling through the thick music as it reached Sean's ears, though he made no acknowledgment of the ridiculous statement.

Claire had made eye contact with him even before he'd reached the bar, already he could see the look in her eyes. He noticed the new girl Megan was chatting with Claire at the time. Ideally he would liked to have taken Claire in private as he never talked 'business' in front of the customers, however if Megan really was interested in joining the team this might be a good opportunity for her to not only see what the business was really like, but give her a chance to back out before she got in too deep. “I don't want to hear it Claire, I just need you to cover Crystal's shift.” Sean said to her. Claire was wiping up the counter, she lifted up the washrag and threw it against the counter “What did he do? He hit her face again? You know what kind of man does that shit right?” Claire said to him in anger. She was definitely overstepping, and though she didn't share a sexual relationship with Sean, she was the one person who could talk to Sean the way she did. Sean walked around the bar and got behind the counter “I know.. I know.. I don't want this either so just.. Please.. Don't argue with me and just get ready to get on stage alright?” Sean said to her.

Claire shook her head then rolled her eyes at Sean. She knew full well what the situation was and that taking her anger out on Sean wouldn't do either of them any good. She knew Sean didn't want Freddy in his club anymore than she did, though it was something neither of them could change. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, however her eyes locked with Megan's and she thought better of it. She turned back to Sean as she said with a slight grin “I can't believe you're going to work the bar”. Sean responded “Its just until I can get Sapphire down here. I'd call Candy but I need her for prime.” “Well.. This could be the perfect opportunity to show Megan the ropes, hell its how you broke me in..” Claire said with a halfhearted laugh. “No.. Tonight's not good...” Replied Sean. The way Sean had said it caused Claire to make eye contact with him once again. She could have very easily scared Megan straight with what she had in her mind, and she almost did too. The only thing that stopped her was that she knew the score with Sean. It was almost as if she could hear Sean's voice in her head saying “Not good for business.” She knew the reason Sean didn't want Megan behind the counter that night was because Crystal hadn't satisfied Freddy's appetite, and he didn't want him to prey on Megan so early. She wanted to tell Sean that he was no better than Freddy, though instead she simply opted to say “Un.. Believable Sean...” with an exhale as she started to unbutton her shirt while walking out from behind the bar.

Once Claire disappeared into the changing area in the back Sean poured himself a shot of whiskey, he took it all down in one gulp as he slammed the empty glass onto the counter. He turned his attention to Megan “Things can get a little.... dramatic at times, See with Freddy its-” Before Sean could continue he noticed Freddy walking over towards the bar, he once again muttered under his breath “Can't even give me ten fucking minutes...”

Freddy's mind was still on Crystal as he walked over towards the bar, though as he did he took notice of Reagan right away. While Crystal had more of a petite teen figure, this young lady was more of a woman. He could just picture the kind of punishment her body could take if he bent her over, gripped her hips and fucked her raw. Sadly it looked like she was on the wrong side of the counter, and while Freddy wasn't exactly unattractive, he wasn't handsome either. He had a wife back home, someone whom he got enough grief from, and the last thing he wanted was to waste his time trying to woo some young thing when he could very easily fuck any one of the female employees within the club.

He took a stool next to Reagan, giving her a sly grin as he said “Hello there sweetheart” as if not expecting a response he turned his head to Sean and asked “Shot of vodka”. Sean didn't say anything as he filled the shot glass. Freddy emptied the glass in a similar fashion to the way Sean had earlier. “God... DAMN that hit the fucking spot, and not bad for a breather until I'm good for round two!” Freddy chuckled. “Crystal is done for the night.. I'll fix you up with someone else.” Sean said to him as calmly as he could. Freddy asked “Is.. She still back there?” To which Sean nodded “She is but shes in no condition to work.” “You're kidding right?” Freddy said with an exaggerated laugh “I know she has you fooled with the waterworks, but I'm telling ya, that little slut is like a fucking fire hose when her panties come off. The last time we fucked the little bitch came twice.. Bet she didn't tell you THAT did she?” Freddy said flatly and openly, not caring in the least that a female customer was sitting right next to him.

While Freddy wasn't exactly in the spotlight when it came to the political stage, the name Fred Parker was quite well known, even respected. While the average voter might not have been that facially familiar with him, those that followed politics knew the name. Freddy reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, he stated sifting through the hundred dollar bills as he spoke “Look... I'm a reasonable man... Let me have a little more time with her, I'll even pay for her time.” Freddy slid three hundred dollar bills across the counter with the understanding that it was for Crystal as he closed up his wallet and tucked it back into his pocket. He didn't wait for an answer as he turned and started walking back towards the private booth. He didn't even seem to care that he had essentially bought the sexual services of one of the dancers RIGHT in front of a girl who he thought was a customer. Reagan might have thought that The Lucky Rabbit was shady before entering the establishment, however she'd most likely have no doubt of that fact after having witnessed the sale of what seemed like a reluctant young woman.



Not a whole of time had passed since Freddy had left Crystal, so when he reentered the booth the small framed girl was in the same position he'd left her in. The back of her head was resting against the seat of the chair, one eye was closed and the other had the bag of ice over it. She must have heard him walk in though must have figured it was Sean. It wasn't until the sound of his zipper coming undone was heard that Crystal opened her unobstructed eye. Her eye widened as her gaze met his. He smiled at her as he reached into his pants and pulled out his semi erect cock “On your feet...” he ordered. Crystal had come to understand that Freddy wouldn't take any sack from her, and if he was back in the booth it was because Sean had allowed it. If she didn't obey she knew that her black eye would have accessories.

She lowered the bag of ice from her eye as she slowly rose to her feet. The moment she did Freddy wrapped his hand around her upper arm, forced her to turn away from him, he released her arm and grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head. He pushed her forward so she bent at the waist with her upper body pressed against the glass table. He forced her cheek to slam against the cold surface of the table which caused her hand to jerk. The bag fell from her hand and onto the table, cubes of ice scattered onto the glass surface. He held her by her hair with one hand, his other hand released his cock as he patted her thighs, forcing her to part her legs just a little farther. The palm of Crystal's hands were pressed against the edge of the table as she tried to get as much leverage and stability as she could given she knew what was coming.

Freddy took a hold of his cock which was almost completely erect as he started to tease the entrance of Crystal's pussy with the head of his cock. “Feel... How.. Wet you are sweetheart? That little cunt of yours doesn't even want to fight it...” As he spoke he very gently started to slide his cock into her. He was close to 8 inches, and more on the thick side. Not the size that usually slid in without some kind of lubrication. Though that seemed to be exactly the point that Freddy was trying to prove. There was no resistance at all as his thick meat slid into Crystal's willing pussy. He didn't speak again until the entire length of his cock was submerged inside her “I know you FEEL.. That..” He said with a low exhale. “This.. Right here is your money maker.. But.. You already know that don't you?” He teased as he started to jerk his hips back and forth, pushing her against the table, and though she wasn't resisting he kept a tight grip on her hair, continuing to force her cheek against the glass table.

He pumped into her for a few minutes until he was fully erect, he left his cock buried inside her as his body slowly came to a halt. “Your hands.. Gimme your hands!” He said in a hurried voice, his body was already worked up, with his heart violently thumping in his chest. He barely gave Crystal any time to react as he released her hair and jerked on each of her wrists and pulled them behind her back. He used his left hand to pin both of her wrists behind her back. It was almost laughable just how easy it was for him to overpower the defenseless girl. It was at that point that Freddy let his cock slide out. He looked down and lined up his mouth as a thick wad of spit splashed onto the very top of the crack of her ass. He grabbed the base of his cock and used the head of his cock to smear his bodily fluid against the entrance of her ass.

Freddy made his intentions known very quickly as he pressed the tip against her ass, just from the pressure he felt he knew it was something she hadn't done before. “N...oo... Please, I won't be fussy.. Please!” Crystal tried to plead with him, saying whatever she thought would get her off the hook, saying whatever she thought he wanted to hear. Her mind was in full blown panic mode as she almost started to hyperventilate. Again it was just the reaction he wanted from the girl, and going forward he was sure that Crystal would get louder with her protests. The thong that Sean had left on the table was still there. He released his cock momentarily and picked up the stringy piece of cloth as he moved it up to her mouth. “Come on.. Open up... Open That.. little mouth of yours!” Freddy groaned as he used the tips of his fingers to force the girl's mouth open, inch by inch he pushed the thong into her mouth. It wasn't quite enough to gag her but enough to stifle her screams and make them sound more like intense moans.. At least he hoped anyway, not that he cared much one way or the other.

He had her legs pinned between the table and himself, her wrists held behind her back as he pressed her against the table. As much as she might have liked to get away, Freddy's grip was iron clad, the only thing that was really left for her to do was endure.. Endure what was coming. Freddy felt Crystal's body tremble as the head of his cock started to forcefully penetrate her. She let out a muffled “HHHNNNNG” as the head of his cock started to move into her. The more pressure he applied the more he could feel Crystal's body trying to resist in the only way it could. She screamed out something however the words were muffled and incoherent thanks to the thong that was scrunched up in her mouth. She had managed to force the thong out of her mouth, a thick wad of saliva leaked onto the glass surface of the table as Crystal let out a pain filled cough. It was enough for Freddy to take notice as he paused his actions momentarily and released his cock and reached for the soaked thong. “Bad bad girl!” He said teasingly as he scrunched up the fabric in his hand and once again forced it into her mouth. He already had the head of his cock lodged into her ass as one hand continued to pin down her wrists, while his other moved around the back of her neck. He resumed pushing, farther, and farther, and farther until the entire length of his cock was buried within her. At that point Crystal let out this continuous scream that was muffled by the thong. The bass from the blaring music coming from the stage saw to it that the sounds of her agony wouldn't travel much farther than the booth, and even if it did.. Who would come to save her?

As Freddy spoke each word was emphasized with a thrust “You're.. Perfect.. Fuck.. Its.. Been So long.. Since.. Someone.. Given me.. A... Cherry...” Since it was round two for Freddy there wasn't that overwhelming need to cum, he could thrust into her ass over, and over, and over, and over again before he'd feel the need for release.

The act itself would go on non stop for a good 20 minutes before Freddy would be done with her for the night.

Meanwhile at the bar...

Reagan took in the scene, hesitant to move from her stool at the end of the bar. Having seen what amounted to the purchase of sex not feet from where she sat, she imagined that impressions after this first one might be even worse. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her shorts, and quickly began hacking away. The memo was simply a reminder of tomorrow's research assignment:

Freddie Parker. Chief of Staff to the President of the Senate and legislative liaison to Local 722. Local 722 is comprised of Teamsters and Law Enforcement unions that dominate the city's steel mills, port authority docks, and shipping fleets. 2010 endorsement of the Mayor. Contributions in excess of $300k. Strip club john. Possible rapist.

Reagan put the phone away. Though she had already waded into a world where there were plenty of bodies buried, notably Freddie's, she could either use herself as a source and quit her undercover gig, or else she could not source the story herself and risk blowing cover. She fumed a bit as she thought of her next move. Freddie was a known asshole. And while she easily recognized him, she was amused he had not recognized her. Three years ago, following the Mayor's second election, she had done a story about campaign finance fraud. Freddie had not been implicated in her reports. She had never met the guy. But during a legislative hearing on the transportation budget, of all things, a witness mentioned that Freddie had promised $30,000 a piece for construction in four residential housing additions. While this might not have been unusual, what was came next. Once the witness had completed her testimony, she disappeared. Two weeks later she turned up inside a shipping container on one of the docks. The container had been registered in the name of one Frederico Polumbo, and it had been designated for shipment to Colombia. Registration tracking for the container revealed it ran a constant route from the city dock to Colombia, never veering off its pattern or its regular interval every three weeks. Two months later, after authorities designated the death an "accident" and cast no suspicion on the container or its owner or origins, the container was intercepted upon its return, forced open, and giant quantities of cocaine had been found. Frederico Polumbo never appeared to claim his drugs, and the container was seized. The goons at Local 722 refurbished and reclaimed the container under the municipal shipping act that allowed localities to claim and sell abandoned storage units and shipping containers. The police claimed they had no use for it. Four days later, it was re-sold at auction. The Mayor's wife purchased it for five dollars. Three days later it sold to a Mexican businessman, Rafael Bientele, for $50,000. Bientele then donated the container back to the Local itself at no cost, and the unions dedicated it to "the shipping needs of the state's import and export enterprise." The Senate then appointed a director in charge of the docks to oversee the state's trade properties. That man was Freddie Parker. Three months later, Reagan went to print with a story suggesting that Parker was one and the same as Frederico Polumbo, and that the strange matter of a single flatboat shipping container was an elaborate political scheme to get Parker's tool back to him. The reason was that he had been rumored to be part of the reaches of the Mexican drug cartel and was single handedly serving as a major supplier in the city. And while Reagan never got the smoking gun source for the story, his attire and lavish lifestyle did not seem to meet his annual $39,000 salary, as published by the state for any legislative aide. She made further note to watch him and try to stay away.

The rest of the night was spent watching Sean or Claire at the bar, depending on who staffed it, and reaching her neck around in any direction to try to get subtle, but clear looks at any tattoo she saw in the room, wondering if there were Rinkhals among the crowd, of if she was in a nest of some other more nefarious creature.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked Sean as his eyes darted from the bar back to the entrance to the private booths. She doubted he could see anything in there, and she doubted that he was worried about tips, or what time the place would close. He seemed to have something on his mind, though he shot her a look that told her to not even think about pursuing her questioning anymore. "Look, I can help do something," she said, hoping to blend in a bit more. She noticed there were no girls sitting around watching the dancers, and doing saw called attention to herself. "I'd feel better if I could at least do some dishes or something." Sean stood up straight and looked around the bar. He slowly nodded in agreement, not even considering the target he was unleashing on the girl.

"Yeah, okay," he said. "Grab that rack," he pointed to a rack of glasses and ashtrays, sitting just at the end of the bar. "Just run those to the kitchen." She did as told, beginning to walk the very short distance to the main kitchen, before the DJ's voice came back on.

"Gentlemen, now on the main stage is a girl who needs no introduction. "Please welcome, Claire!" Out marched the girl that she would train under, at least at the bar. She was a bit older than perhaps she was, but in a little, sky blue baby dress and pink and white knee high stockings, she looked young and cute enough for the losers in the passion pit just beneath the stage. She could tell Claire's eyes were beginning to dull, perhaps from who knows how many years of this scene. Several guys reached out to grope her a bit more than was supposedly allowed, as they paid her the most meager of tips in single bill increments. In every corner, as the music played, she could see any number of dirty old men pinning the younger girls against a wall, a prelude to making them an offer they wouldn't refuse for who knows how much or how little reward.

Letting her guard down for only a moment and long enough to empathize and wonder if she could have ever gone that route during her college years, Reagan remembered her own past for a fleeting second. She recalled several wild hookups, but generally with decent guys she went to school with, and mostly stopping short of sex. She thought of the time she allowed one of her professors, once the semester had ended, to kiss her at a bar after he bought her a drink. And she thought about her one real relationship she had during college, with a guy on the football team. He had been brutish and a bit rough with her, but relatively mild compared to the treatment she was certain these girls would be used to. As her mind drifted back to her reality, she told herself to focus on her back story and remaining in character. "Megan," would be a bit dingy, and bit more sexy perhaps than she was in real life, and she would at least act as if she were experienced, confident, sexy, and self-assured in the way that any vixen might be. As her spine straightened as she walked the rack of glasses toward the kitchen, she didn't see Freddie step outside of the private booth area and notice her doing more than being a patron. She didn't notice his eyes roam over the back of her thighs and over her firm ass before they jumped to meet Sean's across the room. She didn't see him point in her direction and raise his eyebrows in a questioning manner. And she didn't see Sean shake his head no, just before Freddie raised his hand in a wave and laughed, just before heading out the door.

Once in the kitchen, Reagan sat the rack of glasses next to another rack that had been placed near the dish washer. The little area was disgusting, and it was certainly no place that she would want to eat or order from. She wiped her hands on a towel, before heading back out to the bar, hoping to find Sean and see if there was anything else she could do, or if she could at minimum get a schedule for the coming week. Though she would be undercover, she would need to account for her whereabouts with Jeff. She had not taken a step back toward the main room, when she heard a low whistle from the dish area behind her.

"Ay, goddamn," the voice was low, growling with the hint of a Mexican accent. "Ella es la loba con mis suenos, aieee." She looked over her shoulder and noticed a tall, lanky guy working on running dishes through the machine, looking around from where his station was to see who had entered the kitchen. Reagan blushed a bit, always flattered to have the attention of a man, though certainly wary in this environment and not about to engage him with her limited, gringo affect when she tried what little Spanish she knew. The man moved his hand, palm facing away from him, to rub sweat from his face with the back of his wrist. When he did, she noticed the snake tattoo wrapped around his bicep, as well as the two small X's on its back, directly on the outside of his arm. She felt her face go white, just before turning and stepping back outside the kitchen. When she returned to the bar, Sean was still holding it down to all the patrons that wanted to drink and likely didn't have the money to purchase play time with the girls themselves.

"Go home, Megan," he told her. "Be here Friday at 4pm. You can wear anything black with silver or white trim, but be hot for the guys and be ready to work. Got it?" She told herself that she had to be in or out at this very moment. She immediately thought of a little pair of skin tight black pants and a black bustier top that she could pair with it, while feeling not an ounce of fear. She had one story with Freddie Parker, if she could source it, and on day one she had spotted one Rinkhal tattoo, though she allowed that the guy she saw it on was not likely anyone influential, if he wasn't just merely wearing a tattoo that he thought was cool and wasn't part of the gang at all. She had scratched the surface and found there to be something there, at least this early.

"I'll be here," she told Sean before thanking him for the opportunity to work there.

"Don't be too excited just yet little girl," he told her in an ominous tone. "It's not easy here. But it pays well." She smiled. You have no idea how big this opportunity might be, she thought, as she left the building. Moments later, she was on the phone back to the office.

"Jeff, I may be on a couple of leads," she said. "Yeah, I'll give you an update tonight. I'll email it to you."

"Be careful," Jeff said. She rolled her eyes, thinking he often treated her like her dad might.

"I'll be fine," she said. Her car raced back toward her apartment, where she would formulate a plan to follow up on her leads in the coming weeks.

It was close to 4am when Sean finally left the club, it was a night that he wanted to leave behind with the club, sadly his job was one that traveled with him, he couldn't switch it off any easier than the girls could. That isn't to say that his life was anywhere near as hard as the dancers, though he bore some responsibility in the way that things were starting to turn out as of late. The reason behind the club being outside the red light zone was because the owner wanted the place to be slightly classier, not the type of place where a man could just walk in, pick a girl and drag her to a booth for whatever depraved act he desired. While that was hardly the case in part Freddie had seen to it that while there was some difference between The Lucky Rabbit and the red light strip clubs, there were also a few similarities. The biggest being that for one man the girls were very much for sale. Sean had worked in the 'industry' for some years by that stage, and The Lucky Rabbit wasn't the only strip club he'd worked at. There were a few in the red light district that he'd worked at, and in those strip clubs not only were the dances expected to go 'all the way' in the private booths, but essentially had to fuck the manager just to have a chance of being sold like a piece of meat. It was the kind of environment that Sean and the owner were trying to avoid, and for some time they had managed it until Freddie had come along.

The girls themselves were also there out of necessity, the saving grace, the one last stop before they made their way to the red light district, either working at one of the strip clubs, or working the streets as a prostitute. As he drove home his mind once again drifted in Crystal's direction as he pondered the fate of the various girls that had come and gone through The Lucky Rabbit. Sean had known that Freddie was a cold blooded man, that much was clear after his little extortion angle when it came to the Lucky Rabbit, what he didn't know was just what a twisted man he really was. What he had done to Crystal was brutal to say the least, and yet it was also something a man doesn't just do to a woman, at least not as coldly and calmly as Freddie had done it. What he had done to Crystal.. It wasn't the first time he had done it. For a moment he began to wonder the wake of misery that must follow every female he touches. It was almost sickening the way he showed the public one face, a happily married family man with two grown daughters, and a successful politician. Yet within the same person lay his true identity. A man who uses and abuses women, a man who is corrupt and at the end of the day only thought of himself.

Crystal was a girl who had a hard life, he'd known that from the moment he had laid his eyes on her, he had hoped to make her life a little more bearable, something he was no longer sure of given the fact that what had happened to the girl earlier that night was no doubt the worst assault she had endured. Worse than that Sean also knew that it wouldn't stop Crystal from getting back on stage, and wouldn't stop her from coming back to work, and wouldn't stop her from being used by Freddie over and over again. After Freddie was done with her the girl was a zombie, she could barely stand on the weight of her own legs without howling in pain. Jeremy the bouncer had to carry her out, taking her to his place. Jeremy was a young man, and while Sean kept business separated from pleasure, Jeremy was someone who had dated a few of the dancers who had come and gone throughout the years. Yet Jeremy wasn't a rapist, he had never actually forced himself onto any of the girls, which is why Sean knew that Crystal would be safe with him. Hell Jeremy was even a sucker for a lost cause, so who knew, maybe he and Crystal would become a couple for a while. It wouldn't last of course, given the industry they were in it was very hard for the girls to maintain relationships, one way or another jealousy would rear its ugly head within the males they were involved with.

It would have taken a few days at the least until Crystal would be back at work, something that Freddie had to have done on purpose, wanting the girl out of action, then back at work around the time he strolled back for his weekly visit. What Reagan didn't know was that Freddie had already picked her for his next 'target' when he'd left the booth after finishing up with Crystal. Sean had managed to convince Freddie that Reagan, or rather 'Megan' wasn't on the menu, the only reason he had done so was because Freddie had gotten a rather extensive release with Crystal, his sexual drive was almost completely drained. Though something within him stirred when he saw Megan behind the counter. Sean knew the man, and he knew that Freddie would be back, and be back for Megan. Sean had once again tried to convince Freddie that the girl was just working the bar and not a dancer, to which Freddie had replied that they all ended up on the pole sooner or later, before whispering in his ear that he'd break her in, before letting out a hearty laugh and departing from the club.

What Freddie had said was crude, though sadly it WAS the truth. There were girls in the past who had genuinely wanted to keep a very strict line between what they would do or what they wouldn't do. Sadly the money was never enough for the girls who worked the bar and tables, the dancers and the booth performers made considerably more in tips alone. While it entailed taking off their clothes, the girls seemed to think it was glamorous work for the kind of money they'd make. Megan might have thought she was different, and in a way she was... Even for a college girl she had a look about her, as if there was something heavier behind her eyes, almost as if she was too smart to be working in a place like The Lucky Rabbit.

Sean had his guesses, and most of the time he was spot on, however ultimately he had no way of really knowing.. These... Girls... Most of them wanted to get away from something, or someone. It was almost like they were cash contractors, they didn't use their real names, no social security, and all paid in cash. The story that Megan had given him about being a student could have been true, it most likely was, and yet it also could have been total BS. Either way it really didn't matter, whatever Megan's reasons were for seeking out The Lucky Rabbit, it wasn't to work bar. The girl wanted money, and yes she'd be making a fair amount in tips but it'd be nothing compared to how much she'd make on the pole. One way or another they'd find their way on the stage, and once they got there, they never went back. Most of the time it was due to their own volition, every so often one of the bar girls was asked to 'fill in' when one of the dancers had suddenly fallen sick..

Sadly for Megan she wouldn't have that kind of introduction, Sean already knew that. Freddie would get his hands on her long before she'd get on stage. He wished there was some way to avoid it, he had gotten used to Freddie's little weekly 'sprees' but that didn't mean he had to like it. Megan was far too good for such a fate, for that matter so were all the other girls that had been soiled by Freddie. Sadly the world is far from a fair place and Sean was almost certain that Megan would be 'introduced' to Freddie one way or the other. In Megan's case it might even turn out to be a good thing, it could be a cold hard reality check if she really was a college girl like Sean believed she was. Freddie would hit on her, hell he would most likely demand sex. Hopefully it'd be enough to get her to leave that kind of work. Run back to daddy to pay the bills or whoever it was that she was running from. It was a pleasant thought... Though very unlikely, chances were that Megan had already sealed her own fate the moment she had decided to work at a strip club of all places.

The next few days were relatively uneventful however when Friday rolled by things had really picked up. The weather had really taken a turn for the worst, and there was nothing like the cold that made a man seek the warm burning comfort of alcohol, as well as the company of women with morals that were lacking. Even on the streets it was easier to tell which one of the prostitutes were strung out on something, the ones that were barely clothed were the ones who were practically numb thanks to the drugs. Now for Sean it was the busy season, the beginning of superbowl so to speak. From 1pm that afternoon the placed was buzzing, Crystal had returned to work that vary day and since she'd clocked in she'd either worked the stage or the booths. Every time she would take two customers into the booth Sean made sure that Jeremy checked in on them just in case the customers started asking for something that wasn't on the menu, so to speak. Crystal had healed up quite well, she had no problem walking in the platform heels she was wearing, her black eye still hadn't fully healed however she had on enough makeup to where it wasn't noticeable, that and it wasn't her face that the customers were paying attention to.

Sean was back and forth all afternoon, if he wasn't in the office he was moving back and forth from the bar, or making sure the VIP clients were satisfied. “Claire...” He called out from the end of the bar, all the seats were taken so he had to holler over the customers. He called out her name again before he whistled sharply, and it was finally enough to get Claire's attention. She rushed over as Sean leaned over the the counter and said to her “Table five, one of the girls spilled something on Ron's lap, could you please smooth things out.. Throw in a few free lap dances if you have to alright?” Claire wasn't happy, especially when she had to clean up mistakes made by other girls, though as busy as it was Claire knew better than to argue with Sean. “Fine.. I'll take care of it” She said as she made her way around the bar and walked past Sean “When the hell is Megan clocking in? You picked a hell of a day for her to start on... The kid better not flake out...” Claire said wearily. “Yeah I know I know.. Look... It'll be fine, it looks like she knows her way around the bar, might as well as get her to hit the ground running right?” Sean replied. “You HAVE talked to her about Freddie right? You know that creep isn't going to leave her alone just because shes behind the counter.” Said Claire, she'd started to make her way towards the table at this stage. Sean had to shout out “No.. Fuck.. I haven't had the chance” To which Claire looked over her shoulder “Jesus Sean... Hit the ground running? She'll have to do more than run..” She said before turning back towards where she was going.

Claire glanced over at the stage as she made her way towards the tables, the music was blaring, more so than usual given the crowd. Crystal was the only one on stage, wearing nothing but pasties, thigh high stockings, stiletto red heels and a sheer thong that she had lowered down to her thighs. The crowd was going wild as the front of the stage was filled by men leaning forward, Crystal of course was JUST out of reach. She teased the crowd as she ran her fingers along her sweat clad hips, the perspiration had caused Crystal's petite frame to glitter under the lights. She grinned and winked at the men as she let her thong fall down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor as she turned away from the stage, bent over by her waist and picked up the thong with her middle finger. She turned and held it out, twirling it with her middle finger as she tried to pitch out over the music “Who wants em bad enough hmmmm boooooys?” To which the men started waiving bills in the air. 40, 50, 80, 100 the men shouted out as they tried to outbid one another. Claire finally made it to the table, the middle aged man had a pile of napkins on his lap and a small pile of damp scrunched up napkins on the table from when he'd tried to soak up the beverage. “Oh My.. God. Ron I'm So sorry, Amber's new, the kid has a great rack but she doesn't have much else going for her” Claire said to Ron, it was enough to make the entire table let out at least a chuckle. If its one thing Claire knew it was men. Even Ron's mood had lightened somewhat as he quipped “I guess some girl weren't meant to hold a job outside the kitchen huh?” Claire wanted to roll here eyes, though another thing she had to deal with was misogyny. The only way to do it around that place was to act as if they were right, so instead of rolling her eyes she let out a playful “Hah!” Before adding “You kidding? She'd probably burn down the house” Which caused the men to break out into laughter. “Seriously it won't happen again Ron, how about a round of lap dances for you and your party?” Claire said to Ron. He looked over at her, teasingly giving her the once over “I dono.. Make it two?” This time Claire roll her eyes though she did agree “Fine..” To which the guys all cheered.

Claire led the group of four men to one of the group sized booths. It was similar to the regular booths except there were more seats with a larger table. Claire hated working groups because the men would obey the main rules just to where they could stretch the others. They knew better than to outright ask for sex or a sexual act, though that didn't stop them from touching and groping throughout the lap dances. More than that the VIPs always pushed things because they knew the could get away with a little extra. Claire was in the booth for a good 20 minutes before the men were satisfied. She'd waited till Ron and his friends had left the booth before she did. She got herself as composed as possible as she walked out, she was straightening her skirt as she made her way towards the bar. One of the girls cut her off, she was out of breath as if she'd been running a marathon “Claire!.. Its.. Sean.. He..” said the girl almost incoherently. “Jesus Kate.. Just spit it out” Claire snapped, after what she had to put up with she was in no mood for ambiguity. “Sean, he had to go... He..” Katie said, to which Claire cut her off “Go?... GO?? Go where?” Claire asked, trying the best not to loose her cool with Kate. “Something about his daughter... He said he wasn't sure when he'd be back and wanted you to fill in the new girl about Freddie? Damn.. What did he say her name was.. Manny?” said Kate as she narrowed her eyes and tried to think. All Claire could say was “Daughter? What.. Daughter?” It was the first Claire had heard of it, as far as she knew Sean was single with no kids. Of course it wasn't like Sean ever talked about his personal life, so it may as well have been true. Though it still seemed fishy to her as she dismissed Kate and made her way back behind the counter.

It was a little before 4pm as Megan showed up, she waved to get Claire's attention. Claire looked over at the girl immediately with relief “Oh my God, Finally! You know how to work the bar right? Shit.. I'm sure you do or else you wouldn't have applied here right? You're up, I need to check on the rest of the damn club” Claire said to Megan all without even waiting for her to reply. She walked around the counter and handed Claire the apron “Do your best... If you don't know a formula just ask, these guys love it when they have to explain how to mix something complicated” Said Claire as she tapped Megan on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd. With Sean gone it was up to Claire to do the running around, something she couldn't do while working the bar. Crystal was still on the stage however she had almost 'auctioned' off every article of her clothing, with the exception of her heels. She had scrunched up bills in each of her hands, the staged seemed littered with what looked like dollar bills as well.

Claire made her rounds, answering the calls when needed, popping into Sean's office when needed, seeing to complaints when needed. A good 40 minutes had passed before she got a minute to breathe. She passed by the bar and saw that Megan was at least alive...Which was a good sign, she kept on walking until she made her way to Sean's office. She plopped down and let out a loud exhale “Goddamn... This is fucking bananas...” She said to herself as she let her head hang off the back of the seat.. Of course it wasn't till she did this that she noticed the star drawn on the calender that was hanging on the wall, within the star it said 'Freddie 5pm' She immediately sat upright “Goddammit Sean are you fucking kidding me?” She knew exactly what that meant. Freddie would be coming over for his weekly fun and since Megan was the newbie Freddie would want his turn with the new toy. Worst of all the only person that might have been able to convince him that it wasn't happening was Sean. Without him... Freddie would just as easily rape the girl ON the bar if given the chance. The only chance she had was to fill Megan in, and even then time was running out as it was less than twenty minutes till he would get there. She flagged down Kate and asked her to work the bar while she talked with Megan. “Bar? But.. I don't even know how to work the bar” Kate complained, “Kate.. I'm not asking.. Just stand there and wave your tits if you have to... I'll take over in ten minutes? Alright?” Said Claire, clearly not asking but telling Kate what her job was.

Claire walked over towards the bar, she had to shout over the music to be heard as she said “MEGAN, OFFICE, NOW!” She waited for an acknowledgment and led Megan towards Sean's office as Kate jumped behind the counter. “Please.. Sit...” Claire said to Megan as she closed the door behind her, dulling some of the music so it was at least a little quieter in Sean's office. Instead of sitting at Sean's desk Claire pulled up a seat and sat next to Megan. She really had no idea to approach something like this. Claire had only just started to get to know the girl, and for most intensive purposes Megan looked like a good girl. In her head she almost cursed Sean for putting her in such a position, though she knew that Sean was just as upset about it as her, and on that note it got her thinking about Sean's mysterious daughter... It was very odd, though Megan's curious look pulled her back to reality. Clare cleared her throat as she reached over and placed her hand on top of Megan's who had her hands resting on her lap. “I know you're new here, I know its your first day....” Claire paused as she searched for the words, trying to say something that would comfort herself since she knew nothing she would say would be of any comfort to Megan. “Look.. We both know why you took this job right? Its the same reason we're all here. Its this or the streets.” Claire squeezed Megan's hand gently as she continued “Sweetie you'll end up on the pole sooner or later, we both know it. Now.. Sean is a good guy, I'm sure you can tell. But.. He has to do business with some pretty dirty men. This guy.. His.. Well It doesn't matter who he is” Said Claire as if the least Megan knew the better. She once again continued “Once a week he stops by and well.. He gets to pick which ever girl he wants, and we have to service him however he wants...” Before Megan could say anything Claire spoke again “We've all had to do it.. This isn't the kind of place where men come to fuck, but Freddie is the exception. I've had to fuck him.. All the girls have.. Now... I can't force you to do this, and MAYBE you'll get lucky and he won't pick you. But hes going to be here at 5, and my gut tells me its going to be you. Usually we try to give the girls some warning.. But Sean isn't here and sweetie you just picked the worst damn day to start...” She squeezed Megan's hand a little tighter “If you want to keep working here... This.. Is just how its gotta be...” Megan's voice had gotten softer, as she slowly pulled her hands away from Megan's. “You don't have to say anything.. Why don't you take a few minutes to think it over.. If you decide to leave, no one will blame you..” Claire said to her as she stood up and left Sean's office, closing the door behind her. Leaving Reagan with a choice, a very messy choice...

Reagan took note of the girls from the club and how they dressed, paying particular attention to Claire and another of the hostesses she had seen when she applied for the job. Her budget afforded her some money to purchase an outfit, but she wouldn't need it. She knew the perfect thing to wear. After two days of research and looking for more information that might connect the club to the Rinkhal syndicate, she had found very little. Her research on Freddie Parker turned up little other than some sweetheart deals he had received on a few traffic tickets, one of which looked like a DUI had been converted to Unlawful Use of a Motor Vehicle. In addition, he had been the owner of some run down rental properties that had once been in the news for general crime, poor upkeep, and consumer protection violations, but nothing that linked him to prostitution, drugs, or any sexual assaults that he might have committed. There was not so much as an allegation against him. Turning her attention back to old fashioned investigatory reporting, she stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the sheer sleeves of the cocktail mini dress she had pulled from her closet. Whenever she had chosen to go out during the last few years, it had been her go to dress. Short, fit, and flirty, the dress description matched her own when necessary, and it never failed to attract attention when she went dancing.



Attracting attention was not necessarily her goal, but fitting into the scene was and this dress was perfect for that. Turning a couple of times to make sure it was wearing properly, making sure it accentuated the curve of her hips and perfectly revealed her thighs, as it was designed to do, Reagan grabbed her keys and a wallet with a few bills and her ID, and headed to her first day at her undercover job.

The darkness of the club blinded her as she stepped inside from the bright, hot afternoon sunlight, and before her eyes had completely adjusted, she made out a shape of a girl nearby and heard Claire's voice, imploring her to take a place behind the bar and get to work. She noticed there were a decent amount of patrons, and wondered who all of these men were that they did not have to work a complete day. As she took up her post, one of the men at the bar, a guy in his mid-40s perhaps, caught her eye and then looked at the man directly next to him. Both men were in similar looking suits, ties undone, and both looked ready for a weekend, and weary from a long week at the office most likely. Reagan batted her eyes at the man and began organizing the bar back the way she liked it, awaiting any first order that might come.

"Imagine throwing a fuck into that," she heard a voice behind her. Reagan refused to acknowledge the man as he spoke to the man on the stool beside him.

"I already have," said who she could only assume to be the other man beside the first guy she had seen. "She looks like a friend of my little girl," he continued.

"Oh yeah?" The first guy said. "We need to hang out with your daughter's friends more," he laughed. "What is she now? How old?"

"Seventeen," the man said. "I think her friend is legal though. And I think she'd be down for anything either one of us could give." Reagan heard a clink of two beer bottles as she continued to act like she was working.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to upset your daughter," she heard the first man again. "This one however. Goddamn, that ass is tight." Another clink of the bottles rang through the immediate area. Wouldn't you like to know, pervert? Reagan thought to herself as she reached to pull a case of beer from beneath the bar to fill the cooler. As she leaned over and down to put the beer away, the men continued their happy hour.

"She's new," the second man said. "Never seen her until today."

"Oh yeah? Wonder if Freddie's been there yet?"

"I'm sure he is. I think he handles interviews at this place." The men laughed before the second man added a final thought. "Too bad, because I'd pay whatever her price is. And if he hasn't already, he's going to just wreck her." Reagan felt her skin crawl. There was no way she would ever find herself in any position like Crystal had been in a few days before. She heard the men lower their voices and strained to listen to what they continued to discuss.

"Here, try this," the first man said. Reagan observed him pass a small card to the other man, as she watched him in the reflection in the mirror behind the spirits. "Her name is Jess. Twenty-one, twenty-two. Ask her and she'll pretend to be sixteen. Sweet as can be. Best of all, though," the man paused and lowered his voice yet again. "Her guy will let you put it anywhere. She may not like it....but he's the guy that gives you the ok. So if you like a little fight in 'em," the man flicked the card now held by his bar companion. "She's the best little girl for you." Reagan turned and faced the bar, trying hard to hide her rage. She wondered if "Jess," was her friend, and the reason she had come to find herself in this seedy environment. At the same time, she realized that it might not be. "Jess" might simply be the working name of whoever the girl was. Despite this realization, Reagan had a difficult time flushing away the vision of her good friend in any number of horrible situations - on her back, on her knees, violated and worn down, if not worn out. She shuddered a bit and craned her neck to see if she could get a look at the card the man was holding, without being obvious. She could tell there was a girl in a bikini with brunette hair, but could get no closer identification or view of the photo in the short few seconds she could see it before Claire stepped to the bar and gained her attention.

Megan! Office! Now!! Reagan looked around to see if everything was okay, and wondered if she had done something wrong. Seeing Claire walk past the stage and toward the office with no further ado, she stepped past another girl that she had not met yet who let her leave the area before taking post behind the bar, likely to fill in while she met with Claire. As she entered Sean's office, Claire offered her a seat and pulled a chair nearby. Reagan thought her demeanor was rather odd, and wondered again what this could be about.

I know you're new here, I know it's your first day... Claire began. Reagan knew that no good advice ever began with a statement such as that. She reminded herself to not break character, as she nodded and listened to the more experienced club girl as she began to provide what seemed like a warning. Sweetie, you'll end up on the pole sooner or later, we both know it.

"I am NOT going to be on the pole," Reagan said. She simply wasn't. It wasn't why she was here, and no undercover work would survive the criticism that would arise if it became known that she actually engaged in lewd activities to get a story. It was not a far leap for people to suggest if she would take her top off for a story that she would also do other things for a story involving use of her body. She had too good of a reputation already to ruin that, and she had a hunch that a story that could potentially be as big as any the city and state had seen in years was right beneath her feet. It could not be completed if she essentially whored herself out.

Now... Claire continued, as Reagan let the words wash over her as she listened. Though she maintained character, she could not hide her surprise as Claire directly told her, warned her, that very soon she would simply be called upon, expected, to have sex with the vile man she had encountered only days ago. We've all had to do it.....I've had to fuck him. All the girls have. Reagan could not believe what Claire was saying. She played coy when Claire simply told her she should think about it, deciding immediately to remain non-committal publicly, while committing in her own mind that there was no way she would allow herself to suffer the fate of the other girls. Claire gave her no chance to ask questions and Reagan's eyes simply watched hers until she turned and left the room. Reagan quickly scanned the walls and desktop for any sign of video cameras. Seeing none, and realizing she had a few moments of opportunity, her reporter instincts kicked in.

Reagan stood and walked promptly behind Sean's desk. The first two drawers she tried were locked. Pulling open the top drawer, she expected to find only pens and knick-knacks. But there, she found a simple key chain with two tiny keys - the original desk keys that always, somehow, seemed to remain with every desk anywhere. Grinning to herself, she unlocked the drawers and began thumbing through files. Amidst a number of financial records and various policy documents, there was very little information of note. There was a running tab account for several people, including Freddie Parker. She could tell that Freddie kept his account current, but generally, the account tipped hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars in Freddie's favor, rather than showing he owed money. Each week, on a specific 7-day basis, his account was zeroed out, and the bar's debts to him appeared to be wiped away. Sometimes, check numbers accompanied the zeroed balance. But generally, the debts appeared to be simply eliminated.

WHY would the bar owe HIM money? she thought to herself. What would he provide that this place needed? Reagan took a photo of the document with her phone and put it away. She pulled the second drawer open after unlocking it, and quickly found the personnel folders for all of the girls. In the front sat the newest employee's file. It was labeled simply "Megan Carlisle." Inside there was very little. The basic application she had compiled, as well as an information sheet that was largely filled out. How could she put down emergency contacts for a girl that truly did not exist? She did find a spreadsheet that was printed featuring her name and columns labeled "Date," "Private Show," "In-Call," "Out-Call," and "Room Number." Entries beneath the column were blank. She had no idea what this form was, but did not find it to be promising. She took another picture.

She thumbed through the remaining files quickly. She learned that Crystal had been 16 when she was first hired, but that her date of birth had been whited out and made to look like she was older. There were also two driver's license photos showing both birth dates. Reagan couldn't believe that such fraud would be kept of record, but then again realized that people were stupid. She wondered if Sean had been behind such nonsense. As she continued her search, she found two other files of interest.

Reagan pulled a file marked "Jessica D." Inside, there was almost no information. There was no identifier. For all she knew, this could be her friend or some other girl entirely. There was nothing linking her to her friend's identification, and there was no sign of her job description. However, there was a similar spreadsheet to the one she found in her own file. The columns in the file of "Jessica D." had been filled out going back a number of years. The columns reflected the girl did a number of private shows and a number of out-call events, though the entries all seemed to cease about eighteen months ago. In many of those columns, the letters "FP" appeared. In every instance where "FP" appeared, the Room Number column always read the same thing. Hyatt 3214. Reagan took another photograph with her phone.

Finally, Reagan found the file for one "Darby Salazar." She had learned this to be the kitchen employee that had ogled her two days before. The same man that had the Rinkhal tattoo. The Salazar file was odd. There was a jail book-in form with the man's picture. The charges had been listed as Assault and Assault with a Deadly Weapon, as well as Possession of Precursor Material with Intent to Manufacture. A stamp on the lower right side of the page read, "Background." The only other page in the file listed Darby Salazar's rate of pay and job title. Notably, the title had nothing to do with service on the kitchen staff. The title read "Security/Enforcement." Another picture was taken with her phone. Reagan mulled a theory in her mind.

Darby is officially a security guard. If he is a Rinkhal, we know they are in the business of drugs and kidnapping - generally for sex workers. A strip club has young girls that nobody will miss. If he is security, then what is he guarding? The girls, or the drugs? And who is he guarding it for? Who owns this place? We also know Freddie Parker is not only powerful, but gets credited by the owners to his account. What is he providing to warrant credits? What would the club owners WANT that he is providing? The girls, or the drugs??? We also know that he uses at least two of the girls. That suggests he doesn't have their value in mind....he could care less what their market value is. That leaves one thing for him to provide, and one thing for him to take in exchange. Reagan quickly locked the desk up and straightened her dress, slipping her phone in a tiny utility pocket at her hip. She exited the door, having been alone no more than ten minutes.

Reagan approached the bar, where she saw Claire, who gave a sympathetic, forced smile. "Are you okay?" Claire asked. "If you don't want to do this, you can go. We will all understand. Even Sean."

"No, I'm.....I'm okay," Reagan played the role of a shaken, frightened girl to the hilt. "I need this job," she continued. No sooner had she said the words, a dark figure appeared at the door, surrounded by the silhouetting light from outside. Freddie Parker.

"What about," Claire began. "You know?" Reagan glanced in the direction of the man walking in, as he stopped and sat at a table with three other men, each of whom greeted him as a conquering hero as he smiled and entertained.

"I'll be just fine," Reagan said. Claire gave her a worried look.

"He's not a pleasant man," she warned. "Trust me." Reagan grinned slightly, suspecting as much.

"I can take care of myself," she replied. "I won't let him touch me. And if I get in trouble or get fired, then maybe I'll rethink it. But I'll be fine, Claire." Reagan did not actually feel as confident now that Freddie was in the room and his threat might become emergent. At the same time, she was determined to protect herself. Claire wondered if Megan was naive. If Claire knew Megan was Reagan, then she would think Reagan had a death wish.

"Megan," Claire said, pulling her toward the end of the bar, away from Katie and any patron. "Please don't fight him," her voice took a dark tone. "He WILL hurt you. He gets off on it." Claire looked Reagan up and down. "And baby I'm afraid that, as cute as you are, as pretty as you are....he will want to hurt you even if you don't fight." Claire cast a glance toward Freddie, and noticed him order a drink from another hostess, while nodding in the direction of the bar, likely toward Reagan and herself. She turned and looked the girl in the eyes one more time. "Megan, I will try to keep him away as much as I can," she gave one final warning. "But when he decides it's your turn, then it's your turn and I can't protect you. In that booth, in that room....I cannot describe the things you will do, whether you want to or not, whether you hurt or not. Whether you are bleeding, crying, or able to walk, or NOT. Just don't be stupid and don't make it worse for yourself, okay?"

Reagan felt a shiver up her spine and her flesh broke out in goosebumps. "Okay," she stammered. Grabbing a round serving tray, she set off to serve drinks to the side of the room opposite Freddie Parker.

"Katie, go offer Freddie a dance on the house," Claire said as Katie approached the bar. The least she might be able to do is buy some time for Megan, and Katie was a cute, tall blonde that compared favorably to Taylor Swift. And Freddie had enjoyed her before. Claire hoped a distraction would keep him at bay, even for a couple of hours. Perhaps he would not choose Megan at all, as she had told the girl earlier. Her own words and thoughts were not convincing.

"But, he hasn't asked for," Katie began to protest.

"I'll pay you the thirty bucks," Claire interrupted. "Just do it." As Katie huffed off, Claire looked across the room at Megan. Her fine, young, firm ass was on display for the entire room to see, and Claire could see the many admirers in the room sit up and notice the new girl. No way Freddie would forget about her. She hoped Sean arrived soon to maybe protect her as well but, again, she was not hopeful his help could be effective. "You don't know what you're doing, little girl," Claire thought to herself. She shook her head and focused on cleaning the bar a bit. She had done all she knew to do at the moment.

“Sir? I have an update for you on the Tennyson situation?” Said the aide as he walked into the Mayor's office. Walker was standing, facing the large window behind his desk that overlooked the city. He had a glass of scotch in his hand as he had no more meetings on the schedule for that afternoon. The whole Reagan Tennyson situation had potential to become a very troublesome weed, one that could threaten his entire garden if left unattended, so to speak. He stood there as he maintained his gaze out the window as he spoke “How is she doing?” The aide started flipping trough the notepad “She took the bait. We don't have anyone following her so all our information is currently coming from the Rinkhalis contacts” He flipped to the next page on his notepad “Its not clear how much she knows about the organization, though she is currently working undercover at... The... Umm.. Lucky Rabbit strip club I believe.. The manager there is a... Mr. Davis. Mr. Sean Davis. He isn't a part of our organization but we can use him. He has a teenage daughter that just turned 18 that we can use as leverage. If need be we can use him, have him drug Tennyson-” It was at this point that the Mayor interjected “No. We can't do it like that. This Tennyson isn't like the working girls. We'll keep leading her with breadcrumbs, shes the one who has to take that first step. What I want you to do is speed things up. I don't like this kind of uncertainty hanging over my head. The next time you give me a report about this I want you to have something to show for it.” Said the Mayor. “Yes sir.” The aide said to the Mayor as he departed from the office.




“Becky.. This isn't why I spent a fortune sending you to private school” Sean's voice echoed throughout the car, his eighteen year old daughter sat on the passenger side, her gaze also looking straight forward. “Yeah? Who the hell asked you to dad??” Becky retorted, her voice just as loud and combative as her father's. Sean had been raising his daughter on his own since the age of 11. It was a complicated situation which had ended in in Becky's mother dumping Becky of at his place one weekend and never returning. A major reason behind Sean managing The Lucky Rabbit was for his daughter. Sean was a man who had dropped out of college, a foolish idea to say the least especially since Sean didn't exactly have a plan for his future. Selling drugs seemed a viable source of income, especially for a 17 year old boy. The drug trade was one that had thrived for years in the city, however Sean had no real connections, and it wasn't long before that particular avenue dried up for Sean. He jumped around from minimum wage job to minimum wage job for a few years until he start working as a bouncer at one of the strip clubs in the red light district. It was around that time that Sean struck up a friendship with a man who seemed a little more ambitious than the regular pervs that were content with using women for profit. The two became good friends, and Sean became someone the other man became to trust illicitly, which is the reason behind Sean being the man who manages The Lucky Rabbit.

Most of the money Sean had saved up had been sunk into his daughter's education, more so when he realized that he was the sole provider. Sean was already managing The Lucky Rabbit around the time Becky's mother dumped her off at his place, and the last thing Sean wanted to do was explain to his daughter what he did for a living, and why he worked nights. She was young at the time, so the easiest lie that came to Sean's mind was that he worked for the government, something where he had to keep his work 'secret' even from his family. It was a lie that in a way had become the truth throughout the years as he fell back on it over and over again, and though Becky had accepted it while she was younger, as she became teenager, it was something she started to question.

His daughter had graduated earlier that year, and since then she had decided to take a year off, which was fine in Sean's mind. At least until he figured out that his daughter's interest lay in being some kinda vigilante. Not so much in the sense of a superhero that you'd read about in the comics, but more that she wanted to expose injustice. The reason Sean had to rush away from The Lucky Rabbit was because he had to pick up Becky from the local police station. The girl was caught trying to break into the record room of her former school. Being that Becky was over 18 she would have to be processed, the only reason she didn't go through the system was because the chief had recognized Becky's last name, had quickly found out that her dad managed The Lucky Rabbit. That in itself didn't mean much, though the chief was a regular patron of The Lucky Rabbit, and he knew that this could get him some free services. Of course Becky had no idea why she'd simply been picked up by her dad, especially after she'd been caught in the middle of a rather serious crime.

“I have no idea what you're trying to prove Becky. You WANT a criminal record at 18? You get ONE crack at having a future.. You got accepted into THREE Ivy League colleges Becky.. What are you doing.. what the FUCK... Are you doing?!” Sean was practically fuming, and while work kept him preoccupied more than it should, he never tried to take out his frustrations on his daughter. More than that Sean knew just how much he'd crossed the line morally when it came to the club. When He'd first started managing The Lucky Rabbit it was with the mindset that the place would be some sort of safe haven for women. Yes they were working at a place where men came to prey on them, and while the girls of the red light district had it bad, at least the employees of The Lucky Rabbit would have their dignities. At least to some extent anyway. Of course that was before Freddie came creeping in and forced their hand when it came to the zoning laws. Freddie had tried to keep his illegal activities on the down low, however Sean was fully aware of what went on at the club. The way Freddie had insisted on him hiring Darby to manage the kitchen. Sean had tried to talk to the owner about it, however even the owner of The Lucky Rabbit had informed him that his hands were tied.

As the years went by Sean found his moral walls crumbling. At first it was Freddie and the way he would use the employees of the club as if they were nothing more than pieces of meat, and later on it was the wake of what Freddie was doing. In essence the girls had become sex workers. In name and image The Lucky Rabbit was set apart from the clubs in the red light district, however in reality there wasn't much difference. Because of the image of The Lucky Rabbit the women who sought employment at the club were far more attractive then the desperate women who'd find themselves in the red light district. Unfortunately the women of The Lucky Rabbit ended up in the sex trade anyway. The customers were always clamoring for more, wanting 'more' services from the women. Sean decided that a decent compromise would be to make sure the illicit sexual activities would take place someplace other than the club. That was when Sean started to arrange fuck parties for the regulars. They'd have to pay for premium memberships, and as long as they were in the club they'd have to behave themselves. Which was another way for Sean to help keep control of some of the regulars.

It wasn't something that Sean would take part in, even to that day Sean hadn't had sex with any of the employees of The Lucky Rabbit, though that didn't change the fact that he was selling the futures of these young women for the sake of his own daughter. Everything he had saved was for Becky, all the sacrifices he had made, all the moral lines he had crossed had been for HER sake.. Which was why he was so upset in that particular moment. “I have no idea what you're trying to prove Becky. You WANT a criminal record at 18? You get ONE crack at having a future.. You got accepted into THREE Ivy League colleges Becky.. What are you doing.. what the FUCK... Are you doing?!” The words of her father rang in Becky's ears.. Becky rolled her eyes as she turned to stare out the window of the vehicle. She wasn't a particularly confrontational girl, yet something about the way her dad was talking to her caused her to fight back. “Right.. So I can end up as some rich bitch, or get married and pop out a bunch of kids for some rich asshole? No thanks dad!” Becky huffed, still refusing to look over at him. Sean slammed the steering wheel, the alternative would have been to slap his daughter across the cheek, even though he'd never struck her in his entire life. He tried to calm himself down taking in a deep breath, then exhaling. A few moments of silence passed before Sean spoke again “Becky.. You're a smart girl sweetheart.. I just.. Don't want you to throw your life away.. I know I haven't spent as much time with you as I should have.. Even this job.. I'm doing it FOR you Becky..” Sean said to her, his voice considerably more calm. Becky scoffed “Right.. Your 'government' job?” She said, using air quotes with her fingers when she said the word government. To which Sean replied “What does THAT mean?” They'd gone back and forth a few times in the past, and Becky had hinted that she didn't exactly believe that the reason her dad worked only nights was because of some top secret government job. She shrugged, as skeptical as she was about her dad's job, if he had been lying a part of her just didn't want to now.. That and a part of her also knew that whatever he really WAS doing, it was for her, that despite everything he did love her. That however was another reason that Becky was starting to rebel a little as she'd started to get the feeling that her dad made a living from ill gains. What if he was some kind of drug dealer, or worse? What if her education had been bought with drug money? Again.. It was the one area that she wasn't quite sure she could confront her dad on. So instead of following through with what she'd started to say she simply shrugged, continuing to look out the window as she said “Whatever... Just.. Take me home dad.... I'm sure you've got to get back to 'work'.. Right?” There wasn't a single word said throughout the rest of the drive, the last thing Sean said to his daughter as she got out of the car was “Becky! We're not done talking about this young lady!” As she'd slammed the door behind he and had started to walk towards their suburban home.




It took a good hour before Sean was able to make it back to the club, once he stepped inside the place was just as packed as when he'd left. He shuffled through the patrons as he made his way towards the bar. There was Megan on the far end and Claire on his end. “You're a lifesaver Claire, any-” Claire cut him off as she reached from under the counter and slammed a stick of papers on the counter “Yeah.. There were calls... Look.. Forget about the calls.. You know I can't handle Freddie-” This time it was Sean that cut her off as he looked over towards Megan “Has he?” He asked Claire. Claire shook her head “No.. Not yet, but you should have seen how far his hand went up her dress when she went to serve him.” Said Claire. Sean shook his head “I know I know I'll deal with Freddie.” Claire quickly added “Before you do anything you need to tell me about this daughter of yours.. Really? Daughter? Like.. A girlfriend daughter or... A daughter daughter?” Claire asked curious. Sean didn't HAVE to tell Claire anything, though it seems the cat was already out of the bag, and it was next to impossible keeping a secret amongst a work staff that was almost all female. He really shouldn't have said anything out loud before he left earlier. 'Dammit Katie..' Sean thought to himself. “Yeah.. I have a daughter.. She graduated earlier this year.. With honors no doubt... The kid is Ivy League material.. I just.. I don't know whats gotten into her lately..” As Sean elaborated about is daughter to Claire he caught Megan's attention at the other end of the bar, he held out his hand and motioned for her to come over.

“I wouldn't worry about it boss, that's what girls do around that age. All about sticking it to dad ya know?” Said Claire, trying to give him the best advice she could. She had no idea what it felt like to be a parent, however she did have plenty of experience being a teenage girl with daddy issues. By that stage Megan had made her way over to where Sean and Claire were, though for the time being Sean kept the conversation going with Claire. “She was fine up till a few years ago.. She read that article that girl wrote.. Fuck.. Whats her name.. R. Tenson? Trenton? Tennyson?” Sean said as he scratched the back of his head trying to remember the name, though he was quick to continue “The thing with the police department” To which Claire finally responded “OOOOOOoh yeah! I remember hearing about that.. It was big news on tv for a while right?” Said Claire. Sean gave a nod “Yeah well, the girl who broke the story worked for some paper.. I don't even remember but my daughter became obsessed with that girl.. She even wrote to her a few times I think.. Anyway... Ever since then Becky wants to be the next Lois Lane.. The kid just doesn't get it. There's no money in reporting, not to mention how fucking dangerous that shit is... No way I'm letting my little girl go down THAT direction” Sean said adamantly to Claire as he turned his attention to Megan. Of course what Sean didn't know is that his daughter's 'hero' was standing right in front of him. All Sean needed to have done is pay a little more attention to his daughter and what she was saying, or at least show enough interest in his daughter to google Reagan Tennyson. At the same time Reagan's one saving grace was that Sean was too preoccupied with work to pay closer attention to his daughter and her interests. Sean was a good guy at heart, yet it didn't change the fact that The Lucky Rabbit was involved in some very underhanded things to say the least. The last thing he wanted was to have someone like Reagan snooping around. Of course, at the same time it would have been hard for Reagan not to hear the conversation about her, which should have been worrying. Ultimately that had been one of the downfalls of Reagan's big story, the reporter had started to become the news, and when it comes to newspapers usually the reporter is nothing but a name on a piece of paper. When Reagan started to get notoriety and started doing news shows on tv and appearing on magazine covers she had inadvertently put a face to the name..

“Megan, take him a vodka tonic and try to discreetly tell him that you're on the rag. If hes still pushy take him to one of the booths, maybe you can work him down to a blow job or a hand job.” Sean said to her casually. He knew that Claire had to have talked to her about what the situation was, and even though Megan had only applied to work at the bar and as a hostess, a girl who was working at a strip club most likely wasn't a stranger to giving a blowjob or two to get something she wanted. In his mind if Megan kept working there Freddie would end up fucking her one way or another, at least this way she could start off slow. Sean then turned his attention towards the stack of papers, going through the calls that had come through the club while he was out. The most important ones were the calls about setting up a fuck party. What Sean did most of the time was outsource those jobs. Even though Sean no longer worked in the red light district he still had some contacts. The men called for the parties through The Lucky Rabbit were a little more high class, so they preferred to deal with him as opposed to a pimp. Even though the girls themselves were from the streets. Most of the time he didn't even know the girls personally, just knew them by name. There were two notes that had phone numbers next to them, and underneath was written 'requesting Jessica' Sean crossed out the name Jessica on both and muttered to himself “I don't think she'll be available for a while.. I'll have to set up someone else for these two”. Jessica seemed to be one of the more popular girls, a girl that he didn't know personally, he was just the middle man that passed the message from pimp to john, and vice versa. Since the business went through The Lucky Rabbit he got a certain commission for every transaction made. He'd talked to the pimp a few days earlier when someone else had asked to book Jessica, the only thing the pimp had said was that Jessica wouldn't be available for a while, not elaborating past that. For all Sean knew the girl was dead. Not that it mattered, and not that Sean could get answers even if he'd wanted. Jessica was a very popular pick, and he knew that the clients wouldn't be happy with just any replacement. So under the crossed out name he wrote Crystal, with a question mark at the end. Contemplating using Crystal as a substitute.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Freddie said as Katie stepped around to the front of his chair and sat across his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She did not care to have sex with the man, nobody did, and in fact she wasn't in the mood for sex at the time with anyone. The promise of thirty extra bucks was nice, but with Freddie, things could turn south at any time. She thought back to her indoctrination. She had been 19, and had worked for nearly a week. Freddie had been around the club, and Sean had warned her about him. He was semi famous and looked clean, at least, and at the time she had no money and no other options for work. She asked some of the other girls once she was warned, and none of them had any pleasant stories. Though she didn't try to avoid him, she hoped that if he ever set sights on her, perhaps he would give her tips that she could use to change her life. Two years later, she sat on his lap once more, her life only having changed for the worst. She still looked cute, young even, for another year or two perhaps. But in that time, she had grown weak to the very real idea that she was as much a prostitute as a dancer, and her body had been, at various times, owned by any guy in the room that had wanted it.

But Freddie was always the worst, from day one. He had grabbed her by the arm and turned her to him one day when she was serving drinks. "It's time you dance for me," he said, his eyes full of intent. She had given a look to Sean as if to ask for him to save her, and he simply shrugged and shook his head. That had been the worst of it. She thought he liked her. Thought he would, or could, protect her. Sean knew the score, and yet he let Freddie have her. And have her he did. There, in a private room, he had her dance, and as she did, his hands got more and more free to roam her lithe body. She pushed them away. There are rules, of course, and she told him that. His hands roamed again. Several times, she reminded him he could not touch, as if he were any other customer. He made it clear he was not when he backhanded her into the floor before reaching down to take her by the hair, pulling her back into the booth she had just tumbled from. He threw her on the table nearby, flipped her onto her back, and with a single hand tore the gusset of her pink and black panties from her body. His fingers ran along her little, shaved slit as he looked upon her.

"Oh, you're a sweet little thing," he said, his free hand unbuckling his belt as the hand between her thighs rose up to press down upon her stomach, holding her in place. As he released himself and stepped between her athletic thighs, his words took her to a dark place. "I'll bet your daddy loves you, little girl," he laughed, his cock rubbing along her slit. "Too bad he's not here to watch me fuck you the way he always wanted to." He slammed his rather large cock into her, making her scream and squeal as he made her his own. An hour and a half later, he tossed a fifty dollar bill on her stomach as he pulled his wet cock from her raw, sore pussy. "Plan B for breakfast, baby," he grinned. "You'll need it." He put on his pants and left her to pull herself up and put herself together. It was the first of many brutal encounters she had with the man, and he never went easy on her. As she looked down from where she sat on his lap, she continued to play along, not knowing why.

"Hey Freddie," she flashed her thousand dollar smile as best she could. "How about a dance?"

"A dance, huh?" He grinned, knowing the score. His eyes darted to the boys sitting nearby and in the distance, behind them, he noticed the club's new, blonde, little, cute hostess, her hips swaying as she served a drink to a table across the room. "Yeah, we'll dance," he responded ominously. Moments later, Katie allowed Freddie to sit in the booth as she placed her hands on his shoulders, straddled him, and pressed her chest against his so that he could smell her perfume and see the body glitter before his face. Immediately, his hand slid over her thigh while his other seared her scalp when he pulled her hair, arching her back and forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Who," he said, pausing for effect. "Is the hot little thing that started working this week." Katie squealed, moving one hand to where he pulled her hair.

"I.....ow......it's.......her name is Megan," she stammered. "Ow, let go!"

"Who is she?" he asked, not letting up. "Has Sean fucked her?"

"What? Ow! N....no. I don't know!" She responded. "He doesn't tell me those things!" Her nails clawed into his hand, but he reacted none at all.

"He knows I get the first go," Freddie seethed. "What do you know about her?" He released her hair.

"N...nothing," Katie said. "She started the other day. Walked in off the street. She's a nice girl, Freddie." She continued.

"Yeah she is," he said. He pushed Katie off the booth, forcing her to land on her knees between his own. "I hope you're hungry," he said, opening his pants. "Feeding time," he grinned as his hand wrapped around the side of her face, drawing her near.

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An hour later, Reagan wiped down the bar and lined two beers up on her tray. The guys near the stage had been nice to her, and if they hadn't been there for the sole purpose of finding sex, she might have said they were sweet and entirely harmless. A couple had tried to leave their numbers with her, and some had asked if she would ever "ride the pole," referring to the one on stage or the one in their jeans, she did not know. Only one had been inappropriate in the least. Freddie Parker.

Moments before, she had made the rounds and found the slimy man sitting back in his seat. He had been gone the first three times she had gone to his table and Reagan suspected that Katie or Crystal was in the champagne room enduring anything he might dish out.

"Get you boys anything?" She asked approaching the table.

"Round for everyone, baby," Freddie said, noticeably soaking in her form from head to toe.

"Alright, what would you like?" She asked the table of five, targeting nobody in particular.

"What do you have on draft?" A man across from Freddie asked.

"Well, we have," Reagan began and immediately felt a hand on her lower back. She looked down and to her left, where Freddie sat, his hand of course getting his first contact with her body.

"Go ahead," he nodded in the direction of the other man. As Reagan began reciting the beer list, she felt her skin rise with goosebumps as the hand slid low over the curve of her ass, landing just behind her knee. She shivered slightly when the hand began its trek back upward over the soft skin of her thigh. She glanced at Freddie again, giving him a look that told him not to press his luck. Undaunted, his hand continued to rise. Seemingly each man had far more questions about drinks than she knew they needed to ask, and it struck her this was a concerted effort, a routine that they were all in on. Moments later, she felt a finger press in against her panties as Freddie cupped her ass and threatened to probe her rear entry through the little yellow lace boy shorts that covered her personal prize. She reached one hand down and wrapped it around his wrist firmly, allowing him to keep his hand where it was, declining to embarrass him by making any scene while making it clear that he would go no further. Committing the remaining orders to memory, she quickly removed his hand and returned to the bar.

As she prepared to take the drinks back to the guys that ordered them, she noticed Sean burst through the doors. Only a moment or so later, he motioned her to approach where he stood. As she did, she heard him telling Claire about his daughter's proclivities and interests in the expose field as demonstrated by some new, female reporter at The Truth. She was amused by the idea that Sean didn't know the very reporter he was describing was standing feet from him. Her smirk disappeared when Sean gave her instructions that made her shudder.

“Megan, take him a vodka tonic and try to discreetly tell him that you're on the rag. If hes still pushy take him to one of the booths, maybe you can work him down to a blow job or a hand job.” She could not believe what she heard. Sure, under different circumstances, she enjoyed carnal pleasures like any young girl might. When she was a freshman in college, she had excelled at keeping horny boys at bay with the occasional blowjob. Over time, she even learned to enjoy the control she had in the act itself, knowing her body was hers and she would give it freely when she chose, while the man with his cock between her lips only thought he was having his way as he watched her pretty little cheeks expand and her brow furrow as he filled her mouth with cum until she swallowed every salty drop. Occasionally, when she allowed it, she would accept getting her face fucked hard, prompting her to tear up, or even taking the occasional facial. Reagan was no prude. But the decision had always been hers, and she did not appreciate being told to perform because of some self-important "VIP." At the same time, she needed to maintain cover, and it would be unlikely that any girl working here would be headstrong, independent, and even innocent, like Reagan was. She still, however, had pride.

"I'm not going to do that, Sean," she said. "He can grope me and say filthy things," she continued. "But I don't want to fuck him and I don't want to suck his dick." Sean's attention turned immediately to the mail, as he seemed ready to return to work. Reagan took the drinks on her tray and returned them to the table of men where Freddie Parker sat. Immediately, his hand hit behind her knee and his hand began wandering the same path it had traveled before, once again landing square beneath the cheek of her little ass, which Freddie could not deny was her finest feature. As she leaned down to place the drinks, he craned his neck as if trying to see directly up her slit all the way through her entire body. She stood up and again held his hand at bay.

"Anything else guys?" She asked. Freddie ran his finger along the edge of the panties where they met the cheek of her ass. One by one the men said they were good, before Freddie spoke up.

"I need some time in the champagne room, little girl," he smiled, prompting a chuckle from the other men. "And I need a dance partner for a private show." Freddie looked over Reagan's firm, young body, already thinking of how nice it would be buried in what had to be a tight, little pussy with the girl's firm, athletic thighs wrapped around him before he made her scream in pain while he took his pleasure from her perfect ass. He wondered if he might be so fortunate as to be the first man that went there. Before turning away and returning to the bar and her other tables, Reagan looked him square in the eye, unlike nearly any other girl might do.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't dance."

“GEEEENTLEMEN!!!!!! Its last call for Miss Crystal before she hits the booths, oh and I've just been informed by the manager that Miss Crystal's services will also be available to our VIP clients You've got the number VIPs. We. Are. Now. Taking. Reservations! And without further adieu please well come MISS CRYSTAL!!” The announcer's voice blared out of the speakers as the intro to Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar On Me started up. The men all too eagerly started to gather around the stage, so did most of the VIPs who had been hoping that Crystal would join the roster of the girls available for the fuck parties. Even the bar cleared out as those men started to trickle towards the stage. Sean had moved behind the counter at this stage, pouring himself a shot of vodka as he pulled out his iPhone and started to call back some of the men who had tried to make reservations for the fuck parties. One of the clients was quite fond of Crystal so when Sean told him she would be a replacement for Jessica he had jumped at the chance. The other two men hadn't been quite as happy. Apparently they had planned out something specific for Jessica, one man even had a yacht party set up all around the impression that Jessica would be the 'entertainment'.

Sean was in a bit of a bind, while he needed to keep his VIPs happy, he also hated calling the pimp, especially if it was in regards to a problem. The man's will was like a giant rock, refusing to move or change at the request of someone else. The two had an arrangement, however it was more of a favor that Tony was doing for Sean than anything else. Sean was outsourcing the fuck parties so the girls at his club would remain out of the fray, at least for the most part anyway. Now he was in a position where he'd have to call Tony and try to figure out why Jessica was no longer available. Sean dialed the number and held up the phone to his year, his attention switching from Crystal who was enticing the rather large crowd around the stage, and the rest of the club that seemed dark and almost motionless. Megan was just returning to the bar, the look on her face wasn't a pleasant one a she walked past him. He wanted to get an update on exactly what the situation was with Freddie when the call went through. Though the bar was some distance from the stage the music was still relatively overbearing, Sean had to cover one ear with his index finger and middle finger, as well as having to raise his voice to be heard over the music. “Tony?...... No, this isn't about that.......... My clients really have a thing for Jessica.......... I know that's not your problem. Look.. We have a working relationship here right? I just need to............. No, another redhead won't do........ Wait wait wait that isn't how this works Tony, I can't just GIVE you one of my girls in exchange for Jessica's continued services............ Tomorrow evening? Yeah, I can swing that” with that Sean hung up, muttering to himself “Goddamit... I fucking hate face to face meetings with that parasite” If Megan had overheard the conversation, which she very easily could have since she was behind the bar, she would have only been able to pick up Sean's side of the conversation. He poured out another shot of vodka and took it down in one shot, slamming the empty glass down next to his phone.

Sean spent the next few minutes calling back the clients that had requested Jessica, informing them that he MIGHT be able to book Jessica for them, however it would take at least twenty four hours before he could confirm anything. The clients didn't seem happy however it was better than a definite no. From the corner of his eye Sean could see Freddie at one of the tables, him and his circle of friends, one of the few tables that was still occupied as the rest of the crowd had their eyes on Crystal. Freddie's attention seemed to be on Megan. Sean wanted to help out Megan somehow, however on his scale of problems, helping out Megan was a very low priority. He had to worry about keeping the VIPs happy, and on top of that he had essentially thrown Crystal to the wolves by signing her onto doing fuck parties. Megan was a cute kid in his mind, however she couldn't help with his problems, nor would it do much good for him to get invested in hers. If Megan stuck around, and that was a big if, then Sean would see about getting her settled in. For the time being it seemed like she was far too headstrong to last at the club, either Freddie would force himself onto her, or either Megan would reach a point where she'd be forced to walk away from his establishment. Either way Sean had more pressing matters at hand as he excused himself from the bar and made his way towards his office. For the time being Megan's fate was out of his hands.

“This one is going to be feisty” Freddy said to one of his colleagues, the men had all huddled together so they could converse over the blaring music. Another man replied “Feisty? I think you need to let this one go old man, that girl ain't getting anywhere near your pecker” A statement that made the other two men at the table chuckle. The conversation continued as the men eyed Megan from their table. Freddie kept trying trying to convince the group that the girl was nothing but fodder, that they literally had the pick of the litter, despite the girls being willing or otherwise. The statement caused another round of discussion, two in the group finally concluding that the stakes were simply too high. They liked naughty fun just like most men, though they drew the line at rape. That wasn't the case for all the men in the group, as another man was also eying Megan as hard as Freddie was. Freddie leaned over the table and whispered something to the other man, to which he nodded and started making his way towards one of the booths at the back. Freddie turned his attention to the bar, he waited till Megan looked in his direction as he waved her over, holding up his empty glass.

As Megan was making her way towards the table Freddie excused himself from the remaining two men as he started walking towards Megan, as the two met Freddie grabbed Megan by her upper arm, her squeal was drowned out by the loud music as well as the loud cheering and jeering of the men who were mesmerized by Crystal. Freddie was advanced in years, especially when compared to Megan, and while Megan wasn't a weak girl, Freddie had considerably more upper body strength. Megan had been told all sorts of stories during the short time she had been at the club, and while she might have thought a girl like her was immune to what went on, Freddie was very eager to prove her wrong. He started walking her towards the booths as he said to her “You'll spread those fucking legs for me just like every other little bitch in this joint!” He continued to jerk at her by her arm, forcing her to take step after step as he pushed her past the velvet curtains that led to the private booths. Only one of the booths was open, and as Freddie led her to the booth, he released her arm for barely a second as he reached out for her wrist and forcefully pulled her into the booth. The other man shut the door behind them as Freddie got to work. He threw her against the wall, his own body advancing towards hers as his hands reached out for her wrists. He yanked them behind her back and pressed her body against the wall. A split second later he pulled her back about a foot from the wall before he pushed her against the wall once again, showing her just how serious he was. “Jeff.. Get this bitches legs spread!” The perverted excitement in his voice was beyond measure. The joint venture was a first for Freddie, as usually he liked to work solo when it came to breaking the girls in. However in the past no other girl had given him as much attitude as Megan had... He needed her humiliation to be a little greater than the other girls.

Freddie pinned both of her wrists behind her back with his left hand as he took half a step back from Megan as he held her against the wall. His free hand started hastily working on releasing his cock. Meanwhile the other man approached the two. Despite Megan's reaction he didn't seem phased as he reached down and jerked her dress up to where it was scrunched up over her hips. He gripped onto the elastic band of her panties in a fist as he pulled the fabric against him instead of pulling it down. He could feel the fabric stretch at the crotch as well as the elastic waist.. “Fuck.. THIS is how you pull these off” he huffed under his breath as his fist around the fabric tightened and he used as much might as he could muster as he pulled back his arm, causing the elastic band to snap first as it tore at the crotch and side. The violently torn panties were quickly discarded as the man gave her bare ass a HARD slap. Meanwhile Freddie had managed to get his cock loose. Once again he pulled on Megan by her wrists as to pull her away from the wall, only to slam her against the wall once again. The assault was almost as violent physically as it would be sexually. His body pressed against her from the back, with his cock in hand, the tip already rubbing up against the crack of her ass as his precum soiled her body. He leaned close as he whispered into her ear as the loud music from the club seeped into the booth “You think I'm going to let some slut working in a strip club turn ME down?”

Reagan walked off, a tingle running up her spine from the nervous encounter with Freddie. She had understood, in the few days she had worked at the Lucky Rabbit, that he could be a terribly dangerous man. She wondered how long she would need to fend him off, and for the first time got an idea of just how tough it must be for the regular girls working here, who had to be on alert all the time. She wondered how any of them needed work so badly as to put up with him. She heard the men at the table with Freddie laugh at him as she walked away, not daring to turn around to see him seething as he watched her ass with an intense idea of just what he would do if he got her in his clutches. She made a point to stay in Sean's view at all times, though she was uncertain as to what security he could provide. Had it been Sean's decision, Reagan would be in a private booth right now, on her knees between Freddie's legs, with his cock planted firmly down her throat. She shuddered at the thought, committing only to staying on the main floor. She returned to the bar, picked up two drinks for a table near the main stage, and delivered the drinks to a couple of college-aged boys. After flirting a bit, remaining in character as a working girl in need of tips, she tucked a receipt from an empty table into her pocket with her phone, and began checking on another table. As she headed toward her destination, she looked up and her breath caught in her throat as Freddie approached.

Reagan stepped to Freddie's right, hoping to side step him; hoping he was heading only to the restroom. No sooner had she made to avoid him, he said nothing, reaching his hand and taking her arm just above the elbow in a vice grip.

"Oh!" Reagan squealed a split second before Freddie wheeled her behind the curtain that led to the private booths. As he forced her toward one of the booths, his lips pressed close to her ear as his low growl made his intentions very clear, sending a frozen knife's blade along her spine as fear set in from his words.

“You'll spread those fucking legs for me just like every other little bitch in this joint!” Her hand reached to claw at his, but she was unable to gain any purchase and he did not release his grip in the least. Her feet continued to carry her in the direction he directed her, if only to maintain her balance as he forced her where he needed her to go. A moment later, in an instant, she was cornered in a booth, Freddie bearing upon her as another man she did not recognize began to close the door as he too entered the booth.

"No, Freddie, wait," was all she could squeak before she was turned and thrown against the far wall of the small booth. Her breath left her a moment and her eyes squeezed shut briefly as her chest and the side of her face struck the wall before her hands could stop her progress. She felt her wrists tugged and pulled behind her, gripped and pressed at her lower back just above her ass, now on perfect display for Freddie, right behind her. Her entire body, much smaller than Freddie's, jerked backward in his grip before reversing course as he did nothing short of slam her against the wall once more. This time, her face and shoulder struck the wall hard, and a moment later, the pain caused her tears to begin to fall. She wondered if this job had been a mistake and set her jaw, determined to not let the evil man intent on raping her enjoy her fear and pain.

“Jeff.. Get this bitches legs spread!” The words put another shot of determination in her.

"No!" She screamed. "No don't!" She heard the jingling of a belt buckle behind her and realized her only choice was to fight or suffer. She was about to be fed to a lion if she did nothing, and she began clenching her fists as she twisted her wrists in a vain effort to get free. From the periphery of her vision, she saw the large man that entered the room with Freddie step toward her. She tensed her thighs and tried to kick behind her when the man slid his hands over her thighs and hips, raising her dress to reveal her more for the attack that seemed certain to occur. Reagan felt the man's fingers slide into the waistband of her panties before feeling them scrunch behind her and tug in front and below. She tried to kick again to no avail, then quivered as the man tugged once, then harder a second time, the tearing of her underwear filling the room along with her cries.

"No! Stop!" Reagan continued. "Sean!!!!!" She screamed amidst her tears.
No sooner had she screamed, Freddie pulled her back and slammed her into the wall once more, harder this time, planting her face, shoulder and stomach into the hard surface, causing bright light to fill her vision and pain to radiate across her cheek and through her body. As she settled from the violent act, she felt the cool air from the booth between her thighs a second before she felt a velvety soft sensation along her ass. Her eyes grew wide, knowing she was going to be raped, knowing Freddie was pressed into her, soon to enter her tiny body. If he succeeded, she knew, he would make it hurt and he would enjoy every squirm, whimper, and tear she gave. She pressed her eyes together once more, her tears running her mascara, her teeth clenched as she wracked her mind for any idea as to how to preserve herself in this awful situation.

Freddie's breath, tipped by alcohol, filled her senses as he pulled her hair back from her ear and whispered his final threat. "You think I'm going to let some slut working in a strip club turn ME down?” She felt the tip of his cock slide down along her ass and low between her thighs as Freddie dipped at the knees prepared to spear her and enjoy the scream that would be forced from her lungs. With no further thought, Reagan raised her foot, still clad in her needle heels, and stomped as hard as she could, landing squarely on the arch of Freddie's foot. In the instant she did, Freddie's grip on her wrists loosened as he screamed for the first time.

"Aahh, goddammit!" Freddie shouted as Reagan bolted for the door. The man with them caught her by the waist as she got to the door, pulling her back inside the room, but not before the door opened and closed with a loud slam.

"No you don't, little girl," the man called Jeff said, lifting her off the ground and tossing her on her back on the table near the private booth. As she looked up at the man, Reagan saw him step aside, as Freddie stepped between her thighs. He leaned over her, taking her chin in one hand as his other ran along her side and over her hip.

"You made a mistake, baby," Freddie said. "A big mistake." He slapped her hard enough to sting and catch her attention. Her tears turned into sobs and her hands balled into fists held tightly against her chest, which heaved as she cried beneath the two men standing over her. "Now," Freddie continued. "You behave, and let me do what I like, and Jeff here will go easy when it's his turn," he paused. "And he WILL get a turn," Freddie grinned, leaning in to kiss her lips, lingering longer than she cared for as her hands gripped his shirt, her only remaining act of defense. Freddie leaned back, standing between her thighs once more and stepping closer to her, laying his cock over her slit and on her lower stomach. His hands went to her hips, then down over her thighs as he looked over his catch with pride and pleasure. He took a deep breath as he admired her figure. "I am going to really enjoy you, baby girl." He smiled down at her again. "What are you? Twenty? Twenty-one?" He said, hands rubbing her more as he began sliding his cock over her shaved mound and firm stomach. "Doesn't matter. You're old enough, right? Have been for five or six years, huh?" He laughed at his own depravity. Freddie turned to his companion over his shoulder. "One and two are mine," he said. "But you can have first crack at her mouth." The man began to open his own pants and move toward the end of the table where Reagan's head was. "Now be a good girl and take every drop," Freddie said, waiting for his friend to take his place, ready to spit roast the little blonde that was completely at his command.

As Jeff stepped toward Reagan, she plead one final time. "N-n-noooo," she moaned, just before the door flew open with a bang. Reagan screamed when the noise echoed through the small room, unaware of what happened, as Freddie turned to face the intruder.

"Megan, get up," said Jeremy, standing in the entrance with a metal baseball bat.

"Don't be stupid, boy," Freddie said, tucking his cock back in his pants as Jeff did the same. "You know the deal. The girls are mine when I want them."

"Not today Freddie," the bouncer said. Reagan tugged her dress down over her naked body and over her thighs where it belonged before shuffling up from the table and making her way toward Jeremy, quickly sneaking out of the booth behind him. "Go home, Megan," Jeremy said, not even looking over his shoulder as she exited. She took no time to run out of the booth area and to Sean's office, where she frantically knocked. The door opened and Sean saw the disheveled girl, her face red and beginning to bruise a bit from its impact on the booth wall.

"Oh my god, Megan, what.......Freddie?" Sean asked. The girl nodded. "I'm sorry," Sean said. "It's the deal here. My hands are tied. As long as you're here, he's going to do that. Our owners owe him too much." The girl spoke for the first time, surprising him.

"I'm okay," Reagan said. "Jeremy stopped him. He's in the back with him now." Sean's face twisted into a rage.

"Motherfucker, why did he do that?" Sean asked, then realizing he did not want to appear to take the side of the abuser and rapist that lurked his club every day in favor of the sweet girl that stood battered before him. "I mean, Jeremy.......he just, well it's not good for him." Reagan nodded.

"I'm sorry I have to go," Reagan told him. "I can't stay here." Sean nodded and certainly understood. Some girls like Crystal could not get away. It never bothered Sean when one could.

"I get it," the manager told Reagan. "Go now, before Freddie gets back here looking for you. If he finds you, it's going to be worse than whatever happened or would have happened before. Go." It was Reagan's turn to nod. She pulled herself together as much as possible, pulled her wallet from her employee mailbox, and ran to her car. On the way home, she began to cry, bawling in a release of all the emotion and fear from what had happened to her. She sobbed the entire drive to her apartment, where she sat in her car until she could breathe again. She ran inside, crying some more as she showered. She had not been raped, though the danger had been closer than she imagined. She scrubbed her body to clear away the smoke and the alcohol, the breath from the man who had almost assaulted her, and the feel of his cock along her body where he had very nearly made her his own. At the same time, as her mind cleared and she regained some clarity, she realized the terror she felt was likely what her friend had been experiencing, except worse, if she indeed had been taken into the city's sex trade. And it was that friend, Jessica, that was the reason she was doing this investigatory report. Her resolve quickened, and she knew as she dried off, that she was not finished. She also knew, more than ever, that there would be serious risks. She did not know if she had gotten closer to the Rinkhals or the story that could take down the administration. But she knew she would continue and that the risks were simply part of the deal, no matter what might happen.

The alley was dark and dingy and as the Mayor's aide approached the man who was standing underneath the flickering street lamp, he couldn't help but shudder at the dirtiness of his surroundings. The aide was used to doing various dirty and underhanded tasks for the mayor, its something he did calmly and without a conscience, though that didn't change the fact that the aide was a man in his mid 20s who was clean cut and more used to dealing with politician’s and crooked cops. There was no mistake that the world that the Mayor was wrapped up in was dark, twisted, and without a soul, however the aide preferred to deal with that world without actually stepping foot in it. If it was anyone else the aide would have made sure that the meeting had taken place elsewhere, however the man he was dealing with, this 'Tony' was far too dangerous to fuck with. Tony was a man who was in his late 30s, a man who was of Spanish descent though he had been born in the United States, which as a criminal gave him a leg up amongst the other illegals who had sneaked into the country. His late father was someone who was very high up in the Rinkhalis organization, and just like any good father he introduced Tony to the lifestyle while he was quite young, essentially grooming him to take over once he was gone. Rumor had it that Tony's dad died when tony was barely 12, it was also said that his first kill was when Tony was only 9.

Tony's dad had taken him on a 'business' trip to Mexico, Tony's dad had been sent specifically to deal with the local law enforcement unit that seemed to be threatening their organization. For the most part even in Mexico law enforcement knew what criminal elements were too powerful, however every so often there would be a new police chief who thought he could do what others before him couldn't. Tony's dad couldn't have that... It took Tony's dad Miguel less than 2 hours to nab the chief once they'd arrived in town. Kidnapping a member of law enforcement in broad daylight wasn't something that was a common act in the States, however in a small Mexican town that was mainly controlled by gangs it wasn't entirely uncommon. Tony of course had been in the passenger side of the truck as Miguel had pulled up on the Chief, and before the Chief knew what was happening Miguel had struck him across the back of his head by a two by four, knocking the large man out cold. Tony was witness to what followed, as his dad duct taped the man's hands behind his back, threw him in the back of the pickup and drove into the middle of nowhere. The truck game to a dead stop, where the only thing to keep one company was dirt, and heat. As Miguel pulled the chief out of the truck the chief remained unconscious. Miguel dragged him off the dirty road, slapping the man a few times across the cheek until he regained consciousness.

Immediately the chief started to struggle and curse, shortly after Miguel wrapped a track of duct tape around his mouth. He looked over his shoulder and shouted to his son, calling Tony over to where he was. The man spoke in Spanish, the words roughly translated to “This man... Is working with the enemy, he wouldn't think twice before killing your father.” At this point Miguel reached around to the back of his pants and pulled out a black revolver, beckoning Tony to come closer. He places the gun in Tony's hand and said “This is what you need to do to become a man son. Cherish the ones you love, but this man? He deserves no mercy!” It took both of Tony's shaky hands to raise the gun and hold it over the man's head, and without any more encouragement a loud shot rang out as the bullet flew through the chief's head. The body slumped onto the dirt, after which Miguel ordered “Again!” forcing Tony to shoot the body once more. Miguel chanted “Again!” Over and over until the revolver was empty of bullets. It was a very cold and cruel introduction into the world of violence and crime. His father taught him many things, one of which was how important it was to not only incur fear in ones enemies, but to condition oneself in the lifestyle of both the rich and the poor. They were criminals yes, however that didn't mean they'd always be dealing with criminals. It was something Tony took to heart, and ultimately it was a big part of the way he was able to network with such high class connections.

Those were just some of the stories that the aide had learned about Tony in the past few years. Having met with Tony on a few occasions in the past the aide had a hard time differentiating what was fact and what was fiction. After all there is no easy way to ask a potential psychotic maniac 'Did you really strangle your mother at the age of 19?' As the aide approached the street light Tony came into view. Tony was dressed in what looked like a rather expensive black suit, his bow tie was undone and hanging around his neck. It was as if Tony had just come back from some high class shin dig. Even his hair was neatly gelled back. Tony's eyes were on the aide even before he had gotten close. Tony pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, motioning with his fingers for the aide to come closer. “Its always this cloak and dagger shit with you higher ups” Tony said to the aid dismissively. The aide cleared his throat as he stepped under the blinking street light. He cleared his throat a second time and said “Yes.... Well.. You know who my client is.. You know how he operates.” Tony rolled his fingers in the air “You don't need to tell me how he operates.. I've dealt with him long enough. I'm losing a lot of GOOD money by keeping Jessica off the streets... I don't see why we can't just snuff this reporter. Seems like shes done enough damage already.” Tony said in a rough voice, once again pulling the cigarette to his lips.

The aide was in a delicate position to say the least, having to once again reinforce a point he had made in their last meetings, and at the same time try not to sound condescending. “Yes, this reporter has done some serious damage, which is why we can't just off her. This was the only way to keep her in check, she'd already started investigating the Mayor, and if her work with the precinct is any indication ALL of our necks could be on the line.” the aide said. Tony pulled the cigarette away from his lips again, and as he exhaled the puff of smoke blew in the aid's face. “I've survived worse, kid. The only reason I'm doing this shit his way is because we're in business together, and hes one of the few people with whom its easier to just keep him happy than cause waves...” Tony said reluctantly. He continued “So this reporter you sure shes going to take the bait?” The aide simply nodded his head, following up with “Yes.. The anonymous letter did the trick. We gave her just enough to pull her in. She has your picture and name, and if shes half the reporter we think then I imagine she has a few leads to contact you. Just keep Jessica off the streets and it should give her more than enough incentive to follow through.”

“She needs.. To be damaged, her career needs to be over by the time this is all said and done.” The aide said bluntly as he pulled out a photo of Reagan that had been taken of her at The Lucky Rabbit by one of his associates. Tony snatched the photo off of the aide's hand and looked it over. “Not bad.. Fuck.. With a girl like this.. Trained the right way? Shit.. She could be my number one girl” Tony said out loud as if talking more to himself. He tucked the photo into his inner coat pocket as he turned his attention back to the aide. “By the time I'm done with her, the only job she'll be fit for is on her knees. I've been researching her this past week. She isn't the first headstrong woman I've turned into a whore.” Said Tony. “I talked to Freddie a few hours ago and-” the aide had started to say when Tony cut him off “Don't tell me Freddie is involved in this. He is a good customer but he can't keep his mouth shut. If he knows about the reporter we're all fucked!” Tony said with an irate expression on his face. “No no. Freddie has no idea who she is. The little slut took a job at The Lucky Rabbit, long story short Freddie almost rapes her, and from what he told me the girl quit. At this point it could go either way. She'll either try to dig deeper, or Freddie might have scared her enough to cause her to back away.... But... I know this woman.. I know how women like that think. Shes far too good of a reporter to let this go now..”

Tony didn't say anything right away, while he wasn't new to evil acts, what he liked was control, and what was playing out with Reagan wasn't in HIS control. Something he didn't like. “That's fine. I can take over from here... But from here on out she is MINE. I don't want you throwing her anymore breadcrumbs, no surveillance on her of any kind. I'll contact you in a week with results” Tony said to the aide. He didn't wait for a response from the aide, he knew that his wishes wouldn't be questioned. If the girl was already involved with The Lucky Rabbit he could very easily get to her, it didn't matter if she'd quit or not. Tony turned and started walking away, raising his hand and giving the aide a saute with his fingers without turning back.


What most people didn't know was that the Rinkhalis owned most of the property in the red light district, and while that wasn't public knowledge it was known that a large fraction of the red light district was run by gangs, the name Rinkhalis was kept more under wraps, only those who needed to know, knew the name. It was the reason that the owner of The Lucky Rabbit had to deal with the likes of Freddie, he saw that as a much better alternative than dealing with the Rinkhalis. About three blocks away from the red light district was an old apartment complex that was completely taken over by the Rinkhalis, the authorities referred to the zone as 'The black site'. It was an area of town that they didn't venture into. There was an unspoken understanding between the authorities and the Rinkhalis. The Rinkhalis would be discreet with their business, and allow certain members of law enforcement to benefit from their sex trade, and as a result the authorities would stay out of that particular territory, as long as the more unsightly activities would stay IN that area.

Tony essentially ran 'the black site', an area that the Rinkhalis called The Pit. At the center was an apartment complex that could readily be described as a rape training camp. It is where the women were taken that were bound injected with drugs, and assaulted over, and over, and over and over. It wasn't a tactic that Tony used with all the women. After all different women required different approaches. Tony was sure that at some stage Reagan would go through that form of training, however before he got her there he would need her to willingly participate in certain activities. Once he got her to cross the line, and could prove that she'd crossed the line, she'd be his. THEN he could do whatever he wished with her. Reagan was the kind of woman who had a very pure look. She looked vibrant, even loveable. She was the kind of woman a man would pay a lot of money for. Tony could teach her how to be a whore who would suck a dick for a dollar, as well as become the kind of woman how could fulfill the fantasy of a man for whom money was no object. Yes... It would take some work, however Tony didn't have a single shred of doubt that Reagan Tennyson would become the kind of woman who would only find value in making him happy.



Tony sent a text message to Sean, letting him know that their meeting would be at The Lucky Rabbit the following day, though the message didn't specify exactly when he'd be there. He had all the information he needed, this reporter's 'in' was The Lucky Rabbit, and even though she'd quit, if she had a lead it would no doubt be THROUGH The Lucky Rabbit. That night Tony returned to the apartment complex he had in the lavish part of town. It wasn't a place that he lived in, it was used more as a showroom for the higher class of men who had sick and perverted needs, but couldn't afford to be seen in a place like the red light district. So instead of having those men come to him, Tony would go to them. That way they could remain in their privileged world and sate their needs that were written in almost every male's dna and do so without exposing themselves to any danger. Tony liked to live and breathe in the world he lived in, and while he was rolling in money, if he wanted to maintain power he couldn't afford to step away for too long. The other gang members feared him enough to obey him, however if he became complacent, and absent.... Well, it was only natural that SOMEONE would rise up and try to replace him. Reagan would definitely pull him away. He'd just have to micro manage for a short while as he pulled Reagan into his world..



That night he slept at the apartment complex, in the morning he shaved and when he got dressed it was more casual. A pair of denim jeans, accompanied by a a gray long sleeved button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was just enough to show the tail end of the Rinkhalis tattoo that ran all the way up his arm. He tucked the shirt into his jeans, the thick black belt holding the jeans in place. The belt buckle had a skull shaped Metallic hilt. It was around 10am that he arrived at the bar that sat opposite The Lucky Rabbit. He ordered a coke and sat by the window from where he could see everyone going in and out of The Lucky Rabit. An hour passed and Tony patiently watched the dancers arrive, even Sean had clocked in relatively early. The next hour saw that a few men had started to enter, but it was far from peak hours. During the day time the club was relatively empty. Of course that isn't what Tony was concerned with, and a little after the third hour, around 1pm he saw Reagan enter the establishment.

He doused the cigarette in the astray as he left a folded bill next to the tray. He hopped off the stool and departed from the bar. He waited outside for a good ten to fifteen minutes before he crossed the road, lighting a cigarette as he made his way towards The Lucky Rabbit. He pushed back the twin doors that led into the building, the actual entrance to the club was through a second set of doors, the doors that the bouncer was guarding. Tony gave the bouncer a once over with his cold dark gaze as he stepped past him without as much as a single word. As he entered he heard a pop song playing from the 80s, though the volume was relatively tame given the fact that not much was going on at the time. There were 3 businessmen at one of the tables that was close to the stage. Their attention seemingly captivated with the single dancer on stage. It didn't take long for Tony to spot Reagan sitting at the bar, Sean was on the other end, leaning over the counter as he conversed with her.

Tony made his way across the empty club and as he approached the first thing he did was give Reagan some attention. Of course even before he initiated anything with her he knew that she knew who he was. She knew that his name was Tony, that Jessica was involved with him somehow. Now.. What she didn't know was that Tony knew EXACTLY who she was. It was a very dangerous game of cat and mouse and sadly for Reagan her cover was blown a long time ago. As Tony approached the two he made no indications that he knew who the girl was or that she might know who he was. He simply gave her a grin as he sat on the stool next to her. He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke in Reagan's direction though he didn't blow it directly at her. “Goddamn... You... Are a cute kid..” Tony said to her, to which Sean said from across the counter “Tony... Shes not interested.. How about.. We go into my office?” said Sean, trying to get Tony's predatory eyes off of the girl he knew as Megan. Tony of course needed Reagan to hear the conversation. He dismissively waved at Sean “Fuck it.. I won't be here too long..” He paused for a moment as he turned his attention back to Reagan “You're not a cop are you sweetheart?” He said teasingly as if fully believing that she was just some blonde who had walked into the wrong establishment. Without waiting for a response he turned his attention back to Sean “Lets get this Jessica business out of the way with. I have places to be...” Said Tony.

Sean was still a little uncomfortable talking so candidly in front of Megan, especially after everything that had happened the night before, and everything the two had discussed in the short time before Tony had interrupted the two. As much as Sean would have liked to have the conversation in his office he knew there was no swaying Tony. That and he still needed Tony's business, and as a result it was in his best interest to keep Tony happy. Just like the Mayor's aide, Sean had also heard about the many myths that surrounded Tony. Sean gave a curt nod as he spoke “You know how these guys are... Some even convince themselves that they're in love while they're...” Sean paused as the word he was going to say was rape, though with Megan being present he cleared his throat before continuing “While they're.. Intimate with these women.. I can't just dump some other women on their laps. Jessica has her own fans and these men won't be happy with anything less.. I mean.. She works FOR you right? Why is she exactly out of business?” Sean asked.

The truth was that Jessica had been hidden away because of Reagan, so that in all of her snooping Reagan wouldn't find the girl she was looking for. When the Mayor undertook the task of destroying Reagan, the first call that had been made was to Tony, telling him to get Jessica off the streets. There was a wealthy Saudi prince that had was on the market for white flesh, and that is where Jessica was. For a week she would be on his yacht, at times being treated and spoiled like a queen, while at other times she'd be treated like nothing more than a piece fuck meat. Due to what was happening with Reagan, no one other than Tony knew the truth about where Jessica was. Tony chuckled nonchalantly “This... Thing.. With Jessica is a side business for you, for me she is full time. You have NO idea how much money I'm losing because she is out of commission.” Tony said to Sean, at the same time realizing he hadn't answered his question. He took another puff from the cigarette before he continued. “Not that its any of your fucking business, but Jessica stepped out of line and I had to throw her to my boys for discipline. Things... Got a little out of hand and.. Well lets just say no man would even want to look at her for at least a week or two...” Tony said rather ambiguously, while not coming outright and saying what had happened to Jessica, however essentially implying that she had been raped and beaten so severely that even men who took pleasure in forcing and raping women wouldn't want to be with Jessica till she recovered.

Sean was shocked though he wasn't a man who had the luxury of a moral high ground, especially considering what he exposed his own girls to. Sean sighed as he spoke “So what.. You want me to butter you up? The only girl I can offer you is Crystal, I already have her lined up to work the fuck party clients, but by herself she wont meet demand. I'll need 3 of your top girls. Girls who know what they're doing, and know how to put up with men like these...” Said Sean as Tony thought for a while “Crystal is a cute kid, hardly any mileage.. I could get a lot out of her for the next few years.. Buuuut... I dono.. If you want me to use MY girls to keep YOUR clients happy until Jessica is back in business, I'll need something a hell of a lot more than Crystal.. Otherwise... You can forget about our arrangement” Said Tony, very aware that he more or less held all the cards. More than that he was indirectly letting Reagan know that this was the end of the line. It was clear that Sean didn't have anything to offer, and once Tony walked away from the counter, there was a very good chance that he would once again disappear into the underworld, never to be seen again by the likes of someone like Reagan, and worst of all it would doom her friend Jessica to a life of rape, violence, and abuse of every kind imaginable.

Reagan woke up the next day, shaken from her encounter with Freddie. She pulled the night shirt that she had slept in down and over her knees as she curled up, remaining in bed longer than she had planned, but simply unwilling to get up and go back to the club. Her body was fine, but she shivered at just how close she had come to having Freddie inside her, and there was no doubt he would have used her all night had Jeremy not showed up. She smiled as she thought of what he had done for her. Under different circumstances, she would have found him to be cute. He was cute. But she needed to keep a safe distance from everyone involved in her investigation. If she got too close, if her cover was blown, then she would never get the story that was the reason Jeff had let her take this assignment, and she would not find Jessica. And while she wondered if Jeremy would be there again today, or worse - if Freddie would, her early morning fog was shaken when her phone rang.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Reagan, I need a story," she heard Jeff on the other end of the line.

"I'm close, Jeff, I just need some more time and I can start sending something daily, I think." She didn't entirely believe her effort to assure her editor.

"No, we need something tomorrow. We are paying you, but we aren't paying you to be on Spring Break." Reagan sat up in bed, her chin shaking as she fought back tears and rage. Less than ten hours ago, she had been laying on a table as a middle-aged, disgusting, associate of the mayor ran his cock along her bare slit, threatening to share her with his assistant as they came in every hole she had. She was incredulous at Jeff's impatience.

"You know what, Jeff? Fine. I'll submit something tonight." She quickly hung up the phone and ignored it when it quickly rang again. She dragged herself from bed and took a shower, her third since she got home the night before, and threw on some cotton workout shorts and a tee shirt before sitting at her laptop to begin what would be her first story in the series that she hoped would lead her to taking down the mayor.

Kensington Heights Central to City's Sex Trade

The sex trade can't be found in the Red Light. City leaders know the dark, and nondescript clubs and bars in Kensington Heights, just south of the city, hold the key to the seedy dealings that have expanded since the current administration began at City Hall.

During that time, marked by the election of the current Mayor and Council, the Kensington Heights clubs have realized a dramatic decrease in arrests and citations by the police force, which operates at the behest of the city's administrators. At the same time, the County Sheriff's office claims its hands are tied, as Kensington Heights sits within the city's exclusive jurisdiction. Managers of these clubs attribute the low crime rate to good behavior by the clubs employees and patrons alone, as well as quality police work. However, the two police stations in the area have been closed down, due to alleged budget cuts, and at least one unidentified city official has been involved in multiple sexual assaults, while maintaining an ongoing credit account with at least one Kensington Heights club. While it is unusual for a club to owe any patron, it is particularly unusual for administration officials.

The Truth has obtained documentation reflecting the official's account often reflects payment owed by the club. Documentation also reflects that girls that work at the club are sent to the Hyatt Intercontinental Hotel the day of, or within days of, clearing and payment on the official's account. Though there has been no indication of why the girls appear at the hotel, documentation also reflects that at least one of the girls identified as appearing there was under 18 for at least two years while working at the club, including assignments at the Hyatt.

It is important to note that the city official in question faces no charges and has not been implicated. At the same time, if there is any quid pro quo, or service by the girls in exchange for clearance of the account, or any indication that sex was exchanged for money or financial exchange, the official could face criminal charges for at least solicitation. According to the District Attorney, who was quick to point out that no evidence to date has been presented to his office, any scheme to promote prostitution could be considered racketeering or trafficking, either of which could carry a fifteen year prison sentence upon any conviction. Further, any implication of the official could further result in a grand jury inquiry to determine whether the mayor knew of or was involved in any such scheme.

Reagan finished hacking away and reviewed her draft before scanning in the photos she had taken from Sean's desk and submitting the report and the pictures to Jeff for verification and approval of the story. Upon final reading, she was comfortable that it would do what she intended to do. She wanted to point the public to things going on under their nose, but not where they would expect - outside the red light. In addition, she had sourced Freddie first hand - he tried to rape her and she knew of the assault on Crystal. Claire had told her that he fucked all the girls whether they wanted to or not. She had no problems implicating an unnamed city official. The documents were self explanatory - Freddie did something to earn credit, and then dates for out call assignments at the Hyatt suggested he took his payment in flesh. The story was sound. She hit print, pleased that she had not named names yet, thereby avoiding any slander allegations, and hopefully alerting Freddie that someone was aware of his actions.

She put away her laptop and got ready to go back to the dark scene from the night before, as she was scheduled for a day shift. She wrapped herself in a cute, although not slutty, yellow and black tartan skirt that rose high enough to reveal her shapely thighs, and she coupled it with a cute, white top with a modest V-neck and no sleeves. She could pass for any hot college girl and she satisfied her own personal desire to not be overly slutty on the heels of the events the night before. A bit later, she found herself back at work, standing near the bar awaiting drinks to serve to her tables as Sean stood behind the bar.

As she rang up a ticket, she noticed a ruggedly handsome, though imperious man walk with purpose toward the bar. As he neared, she noticed him apprise her body with his gaze before he sat on the stool nearby.

"Goddamn....you....are a cute kid," the man said. Reagan looked up from where she was working and smiled, a split second before her mind flashed to the picture she had seen of Jessica and a Rinkhal pimp, not more than a couple weeks ago. It was the man from the picture, and he caused a chill to run up her spine. Reagan directed her gaze back to the computer screen where she continued ringing up tabs as Sean stepped in and redirected the man's attention. She then tapped a few items into the computer on intentional accident, thereby requiring her to strike them out and erase them from the system. She knew what she was doing, buying time to allow her to eavesdrop on the conversation in front of her. She was amazed that Sean would engage in what amounted to a discussion about prostitution arrangement and trafficking in front of her. However, the fact that she had endured an assault the night before and neither reported it nor quit her job likely suggested to him that he had nothing to fear from the newest girl to the Lucky Rabbit's roster.

From what she could gather, Sean made money on the side by arranging private parties - fuck parties, he called them - for patrons in the club. However, Tony supplied girls for the parties to supplement the few from the club that would participate. In exchange, Sean would turn over some girls for Tony's broader practice. Reagan shivered at the thought of the broader trade and the mention that Jessica was involved in it. Her mind raced as she assessed the metrics of the trade going on not ten feet away. It was simple to think Jessica, her friend, needed money or was struggling with debt and found a job at a club like the Rabbit, perhaps even at the Rabbit. Perhaps at some point, Sean needed a girl for a party and Tony supplied a pro. In exchange, Jessica became one of Tony's girls, and perhaps it was at that time that she disappeared. Reagan wondered, as she hacked away at the computer screen as if she was an incompetent little waitress, if she had stumbled onto just how the trade worked, and whether she was right.

"Megan," Sean said, suddenly. "I need you to go grab the schedule and roster from my office, please?" She nodded, finishing the tab out that she was working on. "NOW," Sean said, tersely.

"I got it," she said, heading back toward the office. As she did, she wondered how she would go further in her investigation. She needed to get close to Tony. She needed to know who the higher ups were that he worked with in the city and who his clients were that had the money and influence to own girls of their own, which he provided. Her first thought was to volunteer for the parties that Sean discussed, but she was not about to be fucked or raped for a story - that became clear to her the night before, when it had nearly come to that with Freddie. If Tony left, the trail might grow cold, and her chance might be lost. Arriving at the office, she passe Jeremy, who was coming from the store room, delivering a keg to the bar.

"Hey," Jeremy said, prompting Reagan to break into a slight blush and a great smile. He had seen her close to nude, certainly as she was about to get fucked. And she was taken by the fact that he would put himself in danger by interrupting Freddie's way with her.

"Hi," she said, stopping him as they passed. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jeremy replied. "Sean has my back. Freddie will get over it. How about you?"

"I'll be okay," she said. "Thank you." She smiled again, then took herself a bit by surprise as she hugged him briefly before continuing to the office. She smiled once more, heading to the office, noticing him watching her as she moved away, before picking the keg back up. She knew what her approach with Tony had to be. She had to use her one strength with guys like him, against her better judgment, and she committed that if she did, she would need to be very careful.

Moments later, she returned to the bar. Jeremy was busy attaching the keg for Sean, who was now simply waiting for the schedule and roster. Reagan began the one strategy she could think of at the moment. She put her arm around Tony's back, casually leaning in close as she reached past him to hand the roster to Sean. She knew that he was about to check the schedules and identify which girls he would hand to Tony. And while she hated herself for being complicit, even if she just handed him the schedule, she also focused on her task at hand.

"Thanks," Sean said. Reagan pulled back from Sean and turned her attention to Tony.

"I'm Megan," she said, batting her eyes. "Can I get you something, honey?" she asked. About that time, she saw Jeremy raise up from the bar, having connected the keg. His eyes grew wider in a silent effort to warn the girl. Ignoring him, she waited for his response. Before she could, Sean asserted his presence again with a proposal.

"Let's see, I can send you Taylor and Angel on Wednesday," Sean said. Megan had met both of those girls. Taylor was sweet, perhaps twenty or twenty one, but had fallen on hard luck, both of her parents having been killed in a car wreck, leaving her no way to pay bills and no more ability to support herself through school. Angel had been a runaway at 16, and now at 23 had been simply stripping to make a living. Both were crowd favorites at the club. Reagan felt for them, suspecting their lives were about to change.
She walked back around behind the bar and began restocking empty bottles and consolidating others, listening to their conversation continue. She wondered how she would make any impression on Tony.

"Sean," she asked, interrupting. "Can I pick up another shift or two? I'd like to earn some more money each week."

"Later Megan," he said, clearly busy dealing with Tony. She planted the seed - perhaps she could be available in some way, perhaps she was a girl that money would speak to, perhaps Tony would have reason to seek her out. She hoped she was not getting in too deep.

Tony had been very aware of Reagan throughout the entire conversation that he was having with Sean, after all she was the reason that Tony was talking things out with Sean at the bar and not in the back office. The key was to not let Reagan know that he knew who she was. He knew full well what she was doing when she asked Sean for more shifts, not being coy about wanting to make more money. It was obviously her way of baiting him, and even Sean's reaction seemed typical for him. Trying to steer Reagan away from his direction. Not that Sean could really talk since ultimately he was also involved in the sex trade. Even if he tried to play the good guy here and there, in the end Sean was pimping women and selling their futures, just not on such a brutal scale as Tony.

Tony momentarily ignored Reagan as he continued the discussion with Sean. “Taylor and Angel? Yeah.. They could work.. It'll take me some time to turn them into top earners, but they do have their looks going for them. You know that’s why I do business with you, you have a talent for attracting a certain type of girls.” Tony paused and let out a thick chuckle. Tony was referring to the pretty types that were riddled with daddy issues, and Sean always seemed to fill that caring and protective role. Although that mentality only went so far on Sean's account. Sean tried not to roll his eyes as he asked “Alright.. So.. Do we have a deal?” Trying to get things over with as quick as possible, that and he had noticed the glance Tony had given Reagan and he didn't want yet ANOTHER girl tangled up with someone like Tony. It was one thing to offer Tony girls that were strippers and already handing out sexual favors, but something different to throw a girl into that kind of life who wasn't involved sexually with the customers. At least that is what Sean told himself to sleep better at night.

Tony didn't say anything right away as if he was thinking it over. “They'll do for now. I'll make sure you have professionals for your clients” Tony said in a plain voice, not sounding casual nor stern. “Thank God!” Sean said as he made a mental note to let Taylor and Angel know that they'd be relocating from The Lucky Rabbit for a little while. Sean knew full well what Tony would do to the girls, the 'training' essentially meant that they'd be drugged and raped until neither question anything Tony asked of them. Making deals like that wasn't something Sean liked doing, however his hands were tied, at least in his mind anyway. It was at that point that Tony turned his attention to Reagan. “Megan was it? I think I might have something for you” Tony said with that same unchanging tone. “No no, Megan isn't interested, shes not here for THAT kind of work” Said Sean. Tony momentarily turned his attention back to Sean as he said with a scoff “Sean, ALL girls are here for THAT kind of work” before turning his attention back to Reagan.

Sean once again found himself in one of those situations where he felt helpless to act and with Megan he knew that there was no way she'd be able to cut it with someone like Tony, especially given the way she had all but had a breakdown after what Freddie had tried to do to her. Of course any NORMAL girl in Megan's situation most likely never would have returned, and yet there she was, working at the same place where she'd almost gotten raped. Sean caught Megan's eye for a moment, and even before Tony could make this offer Sean shook his head back and forth ever so slightly, as if to say 'Whatever it is, don't do it'. “Megan, you're still on the clock, I need to go over something with you in my office” Said Sean, it was the only way he could think of to disarm the situation between Tony and Megan. Sean walked off from the counter and started making his way towards the office, HOPING that Megan would get the hint and follow right behind him.

Before Reagan could move Tony reached out and placed his hand over hers. He leaned over the counter as he spoke “If you want to make some extra money I might have something for you.” Tony said in a very blunt manner. “I'm doing a showcase for some new high end clients tonight. None of the girls will be fucked, but they'll be on display. Its to show the kind of talent I have, and what they can expect if they want to do business with me” Tony released her hand as he continued “I can guarantee you'll make a lot more with me in one night than you would at TLR in a week. I'm really not into raping girls, all the talent I work with are very willing.” Tony continued going from one point to the next without giving Reagan much of a chance to respond. “I'll need you hairless from the neck down, and even though you wont be getting fucked some of the clients might want to see ALL the assets the girls are working with. What I don't want is some college girl breaking down while on display, so if you're going to waste my time don't bother” Tony said flatly. Of course the part about not raping girls was a complete lie however Tony was in part a businessman and from the exchange that had happened between him and Sean, Reagan had to have seen that there was some form of civility between the two. Tony reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out what looked like a business card, he flipped it over to the blank side as he placed it on the table. He pulled out a ball point pen and scribbled what looked like a phone number on the back, underneath a small note 'Call around 8pm if you're interest'. He slid the card across the counter, not saying anything else as if he had already made his point. Though he did give her a rather stern look, as if to silently emphasize the point that if she wasn't serious, then she shouldn't bother calling.

Just as Tony was about to leave Claire made her way behind the counter, immediately getting Tony's attention. Tony gave the young woman a smile “Claire! When are ya gonna let me steal you away huh?” He said with a playful wink. Claire felt nothing but disgust for a man like Tony as she knew full well the kind of 'business' he did, though being in the line of work she was in, Claire knew how to hide her discontent. Especially when it came to someone like Tony. Claire let out playful laugh “Oh you know this place would fall apart without me. So! Can I get ya anything hon?” She asked as she came up behind Reagan and whispered in her ear “Sean says need to see you now” trying to sound as cautious as she could in her tone. Tony grinned back at Claire “I suppose you're right, besides where would I be without my girls from The Lucky Rabbit huh?” He said with a wink, adding. “I'm on my way out, so maybe next time hmm?” He said to her as he pulled out his wallet that looked stacked with notes. He pulled out two twenty dollar bills and slid it across the table to Claire for simply asking him for a drink. Claire was quick to grab the cash “Aww, you're sweet hon, give me a shout when you're around next time hmm? This definitely buys you a dance” Said Claire in that same chipper voice. “Sure thing babe” He said as he made his way.

As he started walking away he saw Jeremy was on his way towards the bar. Tony gave Jeremy a consoling pat on his shoulder “Take it easy big guy, everything is under control” The tone was rather condescending, as if to say that despite being the bouncer there wasn't much he could do if Tony wanted things a certain way. As he walked past Jeremy he wondered if Reagan would give him a call. While he had lied about certain things he was actually telling the truth about the showcase he had set up. The fact that he had mentioned to Reagan that she'd be on display for new high end clients should have been bait enough. If she were looking for a story, it would certainly help if she could see first hand who some of the corrupt government officials were that were mixed up in the world of prostitution and the sale of girls. As Tony left The Lucky Rabbit he had already started making some calls, the plan was to have Megan be the only one on display, though just in case she didn't call he wanted to have his bases covered.

Meanwhile.....

It had made Jeremy uneasy when Tony had walked into the club, more so since he knew that Reagan was on the clock. The girl was cute, more than that she seemed to be a genuinely nice girl. He had seen how she'd talk to some of the other dancers, and how she seemed genuinely concerned. More and more Jeremy had trouble figuring out just how a girl like Megan had ended up at a place like The Lucky Rabbit. Having her return to the club was bittersweet as a part of him had wished she wouldn't return after what had almost happened with Freddie, and yet another part of him also knew that if she really had quit she wasn't the kind of girl who would ever be seen in that area again. By nature Jeremy was a bit of a romantic, though he was also a realist. He saw something in Megan, and she was the kind of girl that almost made him think about getting out of the line of work where he was forced to watch girls get exploited on a daily basis. The truth was that he barely knew Megan, though she was the kind of girl he could very easily see himself settling down with, a home, kids, a regular job. It was a life that Jeremy felt he could finally be happy in.

By the time he got to the bar Megan was already on her way towards Sean's office. He had to run up to her, grabbing her by her hand from behind to stop her with her being only a few steps away from Sean's office. “Hey...” He said to her, hoping he hadn't startled her as she might not take kindly to just being grabbed like that after what had happened with Freddie. “Hey.. I saw you talking with that Tony guy... That guy is..” Jeremy paused as if he wasn't quite sure how to put it. Though it was more that Jeremy was trying to shield her from the reality of what really went on in that area. He pulled her closer and whispered into her ear “Freddie is noting compared to that Tony guy... Stay away from him alright?” He said to her as he released her.


Elsewhere.....

When Jeff had called up Reagan it wasn't so much that he doubted her, however the girl had a way of getting herself wrapped up in a story, and not necessarily in a good way. Asking her for something written was his way of keeping tabs on her, as she might embellish the truth when talking to him, though she wouldn't do the same when it came to an article she had written. Surely enough not a few hours after he had called her Jeff had an email from Reagan. He was at home at the time and sat up in bed as he read her article on his tablet. By the time he was done reading he was certain that Reagan was onto something big, more than that he also saw just how much trouble Reagan was potentially in. Being the editor, Jeff knew a lot of what was going on in the city, even if he couldn't print a lot of it. Her last big story had caused waves, enough to put her on the radar of some higher ups. The sex trade was something that was far larger than a corrupt police precinct.

Jeff had no idea that to Reagan the story was more than just a story, that she was personally involved given that her real reason for even picking up the story was to try and rescue her friend. It wasn't until the next day that Jeff had gathered his thoughts enough to respond to Reagan's article.



Reagan,

This is good stuff, sounds like you're just scratching the surface. Just be careful about your sources. Once this comes out I hope you know that you wouldn't be able to use the working girls as a source. They have no credibility not to mention they'll never turn on their abusers. Same goes for this club. These club owners are usually very good at keeping a clean book even if they're doing business on the side. I'd be VERY careful if you're trying to link all this to the mayor and council. The higher up this goes the easier it will be for them to cover this up.

I have no doubt that you're on the right trail. The sex industry is booming in the city with little to no opposition. The problem is, all the people involved could reduce all of your evidence to hearsay. Bookwork can easily be doctored, most of the extra business that goes on happens via cash as I'm sure you already know, and those that aren't cash transactions are disguised as legitimate contributions. The Rinkhals are organized, and their network no doubt spans the globe. You might not be able to take them down, however if you can prove corruption within the city's government branch, it might be enough to push them out of this area. Either way you're going to need some indisputable evidence. Visible proof, photos, or videos of higher ups involved in illicit illegal and sexual activities.

This isn't a game Reagan, you're no longer a newcomer without a name or face. You already have a reputation of being unshakable. They know that you can't be bribed. The people that these guys can't bribe they get rid of. Tread very carefully, I don't want you getting lost in this. I know you, and I also know that my warnings will most likely fall on deaf ears. So I'll get back to business.

You've already given me some really good information like the Hyatt being a place where a lot of these activities go down. I'll start digging into the hotel to see what I can find. In your next update I'll also need some names. I can start digging into accounts, see if I can link any transactions that implicate the hotel. If the hotel is aware of these activities then they're most certainly involved in more ways than just providing hotel rooms. They're no doubt being paid off to make sure certain names and faces remain ghosts and don't show up on the books.

Remember Reagan, hard evidence. Something that we can make stick. Phone conversations, videos, images that implicate the Mayor if he is indeed involved. I'm not going to give you a deadline but I think you understand that the longer you're undercover, the higher the chance is of your identity being uncovered. Work fast.

Jeff.



Elsewhere still........

The Hyatt had served Tony very well throughout the years. It was a respectable name beyond suspicion. Tony had worked out a deal with the owner of that branch. He provided girls and monthly payments, and as a result he was given discreet services that remained off the books. In the past few years those that were in the know knew that their discreet activities would remain buried. Certain regulars were almost treated as royalty. Anyone who was in the public eye received their own private access in and out of the hotel to where they'd never have to mingle with the normal customers of the hotel.

That particular evening Tony had asked for an entire floor. It wasn't an unusual request, since that usually meant there would be a party that would run throughout the night. It was unusual in the sense that he had hired out an entire floor just for a showcase. It was a result of the potential customers that Tony was trying to woo. They were five men, all of whom were friends of Tony's regular clientele. One was an oil tycoon from Texas, while another was the brother of a Russian ambassador. One of the men was a golfer, he'd actually finished second in the latest PGA tour. He also had a reputation to uphold since he was considered a celebrity which was was one of the reasons that Tony had booked the entire floor. The last two came from very well known families though neither held any kind of governmental job.

It was their first meeting and men like that usually needed to feel comfortable before they'd engage in anything questionable. After all they all had a lot to lose if their secret got out. Tony had a stunning girl lined up if Reagan didn't show up. Though he still held out hope that she would call. Reagan was a clean and unused girl, which was the image that Tony needed to portray to these men, and even though they'd make reservations for a later date, having Reagan on show would definitely entice these men. Not to mention it would be the first step in pulling her into his world. Tony had planned on eventually telling Reagan the truth, that he'd known her identity the whole time, though that wouldn't be till much later. Not till after she was at a point where the truth wouldn't matter to her. Obviously he'd have to use a different approach with her, he couldn't just force her into the lifestyle, though at the same time he couldn't make it too easy for her. Her first little 'assignment' with him wouldn't be easy for her to stomach, however it would get her a little closer to where she thought she'd want to be. That was IF she called and decided to take him up on his offer.

Reagan ran her finger along the edge of the card that Tony handed her, as Claire whispered in her ear, and she wondered how she should respond. She slid it into the tiny pocket of her skirt, as Tony left The Lucky Rabbit. She wasn't about to take him up on any offer. She had nearly been raped the night before, both Jeremy and Sean, who was involved in his own prostitution scheme himself, warned her about Tony, and she had just witnessed the man have a long conversation about how he needed new girls to participate in something that Sean would not even subject them to. In addition, Tony's offer came with the only assurance that she would not get raped, but that she would be hairless from the neck down. Reagan could put the pieces together. Tony wanted to showcase her alright, as a waxed, perfumed, nubile piece of flesh, young and willing to perform in the way that a restaurant might advertise a steak. It was hard to believe the restaurant would not serve a customer willing to order the filet. At the same time, she did not know whether the man would return to the Rabbit, and she realized that he knew where Jessica was, or at least claimed to. She wasn't going to walk into his web. And feeling the card in her pocket, she at least knew where she could find him if she needed to. A few moments later, she spun around when she was grabbed from behind, her startled demeanor quickly giving way to a smile when she saw Jeremy, who warned her again about Tony.

"Thank you," she said, in response to his admonition to stay away from the Rinkhal pimp. "I don't really care to be, you know." She paused. "I just want to make good tips," she said. "I don't want to do what the girls are doing backstage." Jeremy nodded.

"Good," he said, heading on his way back up front with a smile. She watched him go and again thought he was very sweet, just before stepping into Sean's office.

"Hey," said Sean as she closed the door. "I need you to dance." Reagan stood upright, her spine stiffened as if prepared for fight or flight.

"You.....what?" She stammered. He repeated himself, telling her he needed her to dance.

"Four shifts a week," he then said.

"But, I......no," she told the manager of The Lucky Rabbit. "Why?" Sean shook his head, as if reluctant to ask but knowing he had to do so.

"Megan, the girls here, they don't stick around forever. They come, they go, and we need people on shift. Now, when attractive girls are on stage, the boys out there buy more alcohol. If they buy more alcohol, then I make more margin. I can't make money and pay for the girls when they don't make the tips they need to make if our guys are flirting with you and not tipping the girls. They can't focus on both. It's a money thing."

"I don't understand," she thought fast, trying to understand the math. "If there is always a girl dancing, and always a hostess, why can't I be the hostess? That's what I get paid for." Sean sighed in response.

"Guys are asking for you," he ran his hand over his head, as if frustrated and pained to even put her through this. "And," he paused. "And we are a few shifts short." Suddenly, the alarm went off in Reagan's head.

"Are you.....replacing Taylor and Angel with me?" She asked, nailing it. "Is that what this is about." Sean sat, unresponsive. "That's what this is about!" Reagan exclaimed. "You just sold out two of the dancers, and now you want me to be the next girl up?!" She crossed her arms, acting more angry than she was, but mostly proud that she had begun to see the wheels of the entire operation in motion. Any girl that came in this place, no matter how chaste or how removed from the stage, was always going to be a victim here, one way or the other. "I won't do it." Sean looked frustrated.

"You just asked for more shifts," he said.

"Why wouldn't I just go do Tony's gig tonight at the Hyatt?" she asked, probing, gambling that the Hyatt was where the event might be. "He promises a one time thing and it sounds like there is more money there than several weeks of work here, except I would only have to undress one time. AND, I wouldn't have to be attacked by Freddie Parker," she said, playing naive.

"You do not want to do that," Sean said, standing up and approaching her. "Seriously, Megan. He's a bad guy." Sean said nothing to correct Reagan about the event's location, making her suspect she was right.

"And you just sold him two of your girls!"

"No, I.......wait, look," Sean stuttered. "Look, Taylor and Angel are sweet girls, yes. But both of them fuck. They have for some time. Angel has since she started here. But that's a different world than just dancing. If you dance, I can keep an eye on you. I will deal with Freddie, he won't lay a hand on you. I can protect you here. But with Tony," he shook his head again.

"Like you protected Taylor and Angel?" She asked, her blood boiling at the nerve he had. "Or Crystal? The way you kept Freddie away from her?"

"No, Megan, that's different," Sean said. "Again, Crystal wanted to fuck for money. She gets paid well that way. Nobody has to do that. You don't have to do that." Reagan uncrossed her arms and moved for the door.

"Well I'm not going to," she told Sean. "And I won't be dancing," she said before opening the door and storming down the hall. She finished her shift without incident and told Jeremy goodbye after clocking out and driving home. As she did, she looked at the time on her dashboard. It was 7pm. She picked up her phone and began to dial.

"Hello?" Jeff answered.

"Jeff, did you get my article?" She asked.

"Yeah, I did. I emailed you back on it. I'm going to need some names, some evidence, something. We can go with this article - the sourcing looks good so far. But to advance it and to keep your investigation funded, we just need some more." He replied.

"Send someone to the Hyatt club lounge near the suite elevators tonight. Have them photograph who gets on and off after 8pm," she said.

"Eight?! That's an hour away, Reagan!"

"Look, do you want your source or not?" She said. "You know we are sitting on something. You know it. I would go myself, but I can't. There is some high end event tonight. The guy hosting it propositioned me to work it. I don't know what it is, but I was instructed that I would not be raped and that I needed to be.....hairless," she felt awkward telling her editor the words. Jeff's eyebrows raised up at her information as well. As protective as he was of the girl, he was also a man who very much appreciated the idea that she just planted in his mind. He shook it off.

"Fine," he said. "I'll go there myself. But Reagan, I need more and I need you to be damn careful. The Rinkhals are bad guys, some of the worst. You need to be swift and precise and you need to get out. If they catch wind that something is amiss, they will not be kind to anyone they feel is opposing them." She assured him of her safety and he got off the phone. An hour later, he sat in the Hyatt club lounge, drinking a bourbon and keeping an eye on the elevator while playing with his cell phone as if texting, while angling it so to take pictures of the persons getting on and off if necessary.

When Reagan got home, she took a long shower, standing under the hot spray much longer than usual. She suddenly felt her eyes well up and she began to cry, heaving sobs coming from her lips as her shoulders heaved with emotion. She thought about how close she had been to being a victim the night before and about how it could have been much worse the very next day with Tony. She wondered where her friend was, and whether she was hurting, in pain, or even alive. Her mind flashed to the horrible idea that Jessica was in a shallow grave or sunken into the nearby bay, used up and no longer of value. She felt helpless and cornered. She did not want to dance at The Rabbit. She did not want to give herself to Tony and the dangers he brought just to maybe get closer to a story. And she did not want to quit. She cried until she could not cry any longer, then got out of the shower, drying off as she calmed down. As she slipped on a little pair of yellow shorts with white trim, followed by a plain, white baby tee, she decided to go into the office tomorrow, her day of from the club. She needed to put some of her thoughts on paper and try to research some new angles and some backup stories, in case this one dried up. A day back in the real world, apart from the dark madness that she had been living in would do good for her sanity.

She stepped into her bedroom, and she laid down, then picked up a novel that she had been somewhat trying to read with no luck. A few pages in, she sat the book down and looked up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes as her mind drifted to the one real nice thing that stood out in her mind from the last couple of days. Her hand ran along her thigh then her hip, one thumb curling into the edge of her shorts as her other hand began to lightly run along her stomach, below her navel along the firm stretch of skin just beneath her waistband. She bit her lower lip and felt her pussy become moist while her hand dipped lower. As her middle two fingers began to slide slow ovals over her lips, she enjoyed the feel of her slick, bare center and began to coax her hardening clit from her folds. She allowed herself to indulge in an electric feeling, no doubt brought on from the incredible excitement, anxiety, and sheer intensity of the last few days. As her two fingers thrust deep inside her wet, welcoming treasure, she gave voice to the vision in her head as she began working her way toward a climax that she so desperately needed.

"Jeremy," she moaned as she began to cum.

Reagan's deadline had come and gone without a call being made. It was a little frustrating for Tony to say the least, as he'd hoped she'd have just taken the bait, and while it partly angered him that she hadn't called, she wasn't exactly the type of girl who had weak morals, the type of girl that would so easily lay down and spread her legs for him. At the same time Tony also couldn't afford to treat Reagan like any other girl. She had followed the trail of her friend Jessica, so for all practical purposes Reagan already knew how tough of a man he was, just how cold and cruel he could be. If he didn't continue to portray that image she might suspect that something was up. Already Tony had been considerably more lenient with her than he would have been over a girl he was trying to pursue.

Hesitantly he called up one of his other girls. She was a girl who had been 'his' for close to 3 years and had been through all the training that he had to provide. She had spent time in the pit, as well as time on stage at The Rabbit, as well as a good chunk of her time on the streets. Though she had essentially graduated to working high class clients, that was usually the end game for the prettier girls that Tony worked with. The girl had turned 21 a few weeks ago, the celebration was one that the girl would no doubt remember for some time. He went through his contacts as he found her number and dialed. As she picked up Tony said sharply “Skylar get cleaned up and put on something nice. You're on show at the Hyatt in an hour and a half. Move your ass!” before hanging up. The girl had done enough shows for high class clients to know exactly what was expected of her.

Skylar had been told that the show started in an hour and half, so she knew enough to show up a half hour earlier. The small framed brunette had worn a simple cocktail dress with low inch heels, her hair tied in a ponytail, knowing that she'd most likely either be naked for the showcase or Tony would dress her in something else. She took the private entrance that no one knew about. It was an emergency underground evacuation tunnel that had been sealed years ago. That's to say sealed until Tony had opened it up for the privacy of his clients. All of his associates, clients, even the women would enter the tunnel that was half a block away from the Hyatt building, and would make their way to the private parking lot that had a large service elevator that went all the way up to the top floor. As Skylar got to the elevator there was a man in a suit waiting for her. It was almost standard, he was one of the men that had been assigned to deal with Tony's needs. It had been a while since she'd worked a showcase for Tony so she wasn't familiar with the man at the elevator. The young man in his early 20s called for the elevator, and stepped to the side as the double doors opened up. “Twenty fifth floor” was all he said as Skylar forced a smile and gave the young man a nonchalant wave as she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the twenty fifth floor.

Skylar was an average looking girl, one of those girls that would be easier defined as 'cute' as opposed to 'pretty'. She had more of a 'girl next door' type quality, which she had going in her favor. She was also small in frame, which was huge for those who had daughter fantasies. Which was just about most men who sought out prostitutes. If Reagan had shown up Tony wouldn't have had to do much with her other than have her strip and stand there with a smile. The girl was stunning to say the least. Sadly for Skylar she was no stunner, so even before she arrived at the building Tony had one of his contact arrange for a tattoo artist to drive over. Someone was waiting for Skylar as the elevator door opened on the twenty fifth floor, and as he led Skylar down the hallway she realized she hadn't been to a showcase in some time where Tony had locked down the entire floor. Which could only mean one of two things, either the potential clients were very wealthy, or they were celebrities. Either way it wouldn't make a difference to Skyler as she'd do anything that was required of her.

Tony was waiting for her in a suite and as she appeared at the doorway he was at the mini bar, his iPhone out in front of him as he motioned for her “Close the door behind you and start getting undressed” He said to her without even looking up to see what she was wearing. She knew that Tony wasn't looking however out of habit she gave him a nod and started to undress right on the spot. The girl had an attitude, one that she wasn't afraid to show at times, though that was with anyone but Tony. She slid off her dress like it was nothing, underneath all she had on was a matching pair thong which she also slid out of, standing there in just her heels, which she also removed a moment later. She picked up her dress, her thong, as well as her shoes and simply stood there as she patiently waited for Tony to be done. Two minutes passed before Tony tucked his phone back into his pocked. He looked over at Skylar and motioned for her to the bed “Put on the robe and leave your clothes on the bed” He said to her flatly. There was no need for him to charm the girls that worked for him. Just about all had been brutalized enough to where they were obedient little toys. “I'll call the room phone with instructions for you” Tony said to her as he walked out of the suite and left her alone for the time being.

Tony was only entertaining five guests, as a result he had decided to put on the show in a small conference room. The room had been set up like a small theater. The five seats were placed right in front of the stage that was raised two feet off the floor. The entire room was pitch black with the exception of the stage. One by one Tony greeted each of the men, made small talk about their mutual contact, talking about the quality of the girls. Things of that nature. After the last guest arrived Tony ushered him into the conference room as he got on the stage. The room was small enough to where Tony didn't need a microphone, that and Tony knew how to make his voice really travel when he needed it to. As always he was dressed in a sharp black suit, hair gelled back with all of his tattoos covered up. Appearing as professional as he could.

He walked onto the stage, stopping when he was in the center. He held out both his hands, looking into the dark room as he spoke “Gentleman! With the exception of the obvious, you're all here because someone you trusted pointed you in my direction. I have no doubt that you've all been to at least one party that one of my clients have thrown, just as I'm sure you've all experienced my girls. You know that I can deliver on my promise. You have SEEN it, you have EXPERIENCED it. I can BUY you discretion where others can't.” Tony paused for a moment as he lowered his hands. He slowly started pacing, walking back and forth across the stage as he continued “ You can rent a girl anywhere. Even men such as yourselves know where to find talent, and while I have girls at my disposal that look on par with movie stars, I also have a promise that others can't match... Now I could have shown you a long list of girls, but what I want from YOU is your business, your continued business, and for you to see and understand that my girls are like no other on the globe. The promise that my girls will do things that no other hooker would” He said flatly. “A very vague statement I agree, especially when it comes to the subject of women who sell their bodies.. So... I've opted for a little demonstration.” Said Tony.

He pulled out his phone and made two calls, one was for Skylar, the other was to the tattoo artist that was waiting in another room. Tony stood in silence as the tattoo artist stepped into the room. Without a word he moved onto the stage, behind tony and started setting up his equipment next to the large leather settee. A moment later Skylar stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as she made her way onto the stage, standing beside Tony. Tony tucked his phone back into his pocket as he walked a circle around Skylar before asking “What is your name, and how old are you?” To which she looked straight ahead with a plain response “My name is Skylar and I'm 21 sir” Tony asked again “And how long have you been working for me Skylar?” Again she responded immediately and plainly “Since I turned eighteen, Sir”. The response was enough for the men to whisper amongst themselves. Tony proceeded to untie Skylar's robe, she stood still as the robe was pulled off of her shoulders, and as the robe fell to the floor she stood under the spotlight. Completely nude. Tony once again started waking in circle around her as he spoke “This girl.. She is attractive enough, though her talents don't lie there. She could very easily be your daughter, hell if you ask her to I'm sure she'd have no problem addressing you as Daddy.” Tony paused for a second as the group of men let out scattered laughter, the entire time Skyar stood perfectly still with a simple smile. Tony turned to Skylar and said to her “Okay, go sit down and open your legs for Ron.” To which she nodded with a smile “Yes, Sir” as she turned, briskly walking towards the settee, hiding the nervousness as she saw that tattoo needle as she sat down and opened her legs as instructed. Tony turned to the audience of five men “I need a word each from you. You can pick any word. All 5 words will be tattooed onto Skylar right above her pussy.” Announced Tony, pausing after he did as to let the men recover from their collective surprise and shock. It really was a new level of depravity that the men had never even considered or thought possible, that much alone was clear from their gasps and murmurs in the dark. The five men were shocked as well as surprised in various different ways. Each of them had been with prostitutes in the past, even high class ones, however it was more of a business transaction, and no matter what depraved sexual acts they wanted played out, non would have let the men tattoo them. Another thing that surprised them was the way that Skylar was just sitting there with her legs spread, having heard what would happen. Despite what might have been going on in her mind the only things she was outwardly showing was her body and her smile.

The men once again started to chatter and whisper amongst themselves, most couldn't believe what was about to happen at a mere demonstration. There was no sex, and the potential clients hadn't paid a single sent and yet Tony was putting on a demonstration that seemed far more effective than watching Skylar get fucked. When money was no objected, one of the greater aphrodisiacs was depravity. The thought of having something sick and twisted tattooed on this poor girl forever was a huge turn on for all the men. They started to discuss amongst themselves what they should have tattooed. One of the men still wasn't convinced that Tony would let it happen. Tony stood on stage with his arms folded as the men talked it over for a few minutes before a voice broke out from the dark. “Worthless cunt fucks for free” were the words that flew out from the man with a thin Russian accent.

Skylar's heart began to race as beads of sweat started to form all over her body causing her to glisten under the hot spotlight. She was far from thrilled at the idea of those degrading words being tattooed onto her, and yet she knew if Tony wanted the words tattooed on her forehead she wouldn't have been allowed to resist. In a way she was thankful that the words would be in a place that was somewhat hidden. Ironically from that point on almost all of her customers would see what was tattooed on her, and sadly with words like that she knew that she'd be getting it a lot rougher from that point on. Tony let out a hearty laugh as he looked over at Ron and repeated “Worthless cunt fucks for free” to which Ron gave a nod and positioned himself on his knees in front of Skylar. The needle started to buzz as his glove clad hand started to press against the skin right above her crotch.

Skylar let out a loud wince as the buzzing needle made contact with her flesh, the reaction was enough to cause the men to break out into scattered chuckles. Skylar had her hands wrapped around each arm rest of the leather sofa, at that point however her nails had started to dig in to the fabric as she had no choice but to sit there. It didn't take long before the tattoo was done. Ron had been a tattoo artist for a good ten years at that point, and its not like he was going to ink some intricate design. It took less than five minutes before he was done, and no sooner had Ron moved to the side did Tony motion with his fingers for Skylar to get up and walk to the front of the stage. Skylar gave a soft nod as she lowered her legs and stood up. She was still sore though it wasn't to a point where she had trouble walking. Acting as if nothing had happened she did as Tony had asked and made her way to the front of the stage. All the men leaned forward from the darkness to see the exact words that they had spoken out. All the words were in italics and capitalized except for the word cunt which was written in both bold and capitals.

The men all let out a round of applause as Skylar stood there and smiled for the strangers who had essentially made her life even worse. Tony spoke over the cheers and applause, his voice cutting through the noise “Gentleman! THIS is an example of the kind of service you can expect. As you can see my girls are dedicated in ways that you won't get anywhere else. They can be hired for short term as well as long term events. Prices are not negotiable, though as you can see its well worth it!” The men once again started to applaud and cheer and it was a safe bet to say that Tony had picked up five new clients. He motioned for Skylar to put the robe back on after which telling her that she was done for the night. Tony then proceeded to lead the men to another room that had a full buffet table where they could talk about price and also go through the catalog of girls that were available. All in all Tony was very happy with what he had managed to accomplish. Reagan was a problem that would have to be dealt with on another date, as a matter of fact his mind had already come up with something else to test Reagan's limits.


Meanwhile........

Jeff remained seated in the luxurious lobby, fiddling with his phone, keeping an eye on the elevator as well as the entrance. He'd made it to the Hyatt at around 7:45, which was a good fifteen minutes before when Reagan had said something was going down. At first a half hour passed, then an hour and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Mostly guests coming in, checking into a room at the front desk. Mostly businessmen, though there were a few couples. He didn't see anything that looked like illegal activities. None of the women that were coming and going seemed to be there under false pretenses. Jeff almost began to wonder if he'd been late, and as unlikely as it was maybe Reagan had gotten the time wrong and this so called 'party' had already started. He figured even if he had been late the party would have had to end at some point, and while he could have very easily sent one of his reporters to the Hyatt for recon, he understood the importance of what Reagan was doing. Jeff of course had no way of knowing that he wouldn't catch anything of interest in all the photographs he had taken. Tony and all of his associates had left the Hyatt through the private tunnel around 11pm that night.

Jeff waited until 2am before he finally called it quits, having not seen anyone of importance. No women that looked like they could be street walkers, nor did he see any politicians or government officials, he thought to himself if THIS is what Reagan is working on then clearly shes on the wrong trail. A part of him was beginning to question her judgment as he took a cab home. She'd only been working undercover for about a week and already it seemed to be having an effect on her. A part of him almost wanted to pull the plug and reel her back in, while another part of him knew that once Reagan broke the story it would have been well worth it. While another part almost wondered how far she would go for this particular story. He still couldn't believe she'd told him about the request some guy had made about her being hairless. Jeff might have been over twice Reagan age, someone who could very easily have been her father, and at the same time he was still a man. A part of him couldn't stop thinking about Reagan in her natural form. The way her tight young hairless body would look, the way it would FEEL.. Jeff shouldn't have entertained those thoughts, however thoughts are all they were, and ultimately he figured what was the harm to fantasize about an employee if it stayed in his head.

On his way home he sent Reagan another email.

Reagan,

I was at the Hyatt between 7:45pm and 2am. I'm sending you a file containing all the photographs I took. I have to tell you that it looked like pretty standard stuff. I know how to spot a John, pimp and even hookers. I want you to look through the photos and tell me if you recognize anyone. I've got a feeling you're barking up the wrong tree, from what I observed I didn't see anything remotely close to illegal activity and I'm sure as hell not going to spend my resources digging into the Hyatt's finances without anything concrete. You know I'm not going to pull the plug on this, I still trust you, but I think you need to understand that this one might be too big a story, even for you. I'm getting the feeling you're already in too deep and I don't like it.. Either get me some results or be grown up enough to move on to something else!

Jeff.

It was about as blunt as he could get with Reagan. He had authorized her to pursue the story when she'd first come to him with it, and Jeff didn't want to be the kind of editor that restrained his seasoned reporters. He had trusted Reagan's judgment in the past and it had paid off.. If Reagan really was starting to get in too deep he hoped that she'd overcome her stubbornness and drop the story. Though he still couldn't shake the feeling that SOMETHING was off, that there was some important piece of the puzzle that he wasn't seeing. It was nothing solid, more an instinct that he had developed after being a reporter for so many years....

Two days later came a washout as storms moved into the area and the temperature cooled. Lightning flashed across the morning sky as Reagan drove to work. When she stopped at a local coffee shop, she made her way inside to grab a cup, always black, that would hopefully get her through the first few hours of the day. The barista informed her the brew was not yet ready, and she stood waiting at the bar along the window, watching the storm, wondering exactly how her story would take shape from here. There was no guarantee Tony would be back at the Rabbit, and in fact she wondered if she needed to go back herself. Sean wanted her to dance and the more she was there, the more there would be pressure to do so. In addition, there would come a time when Freddie would be back in the building at the same time she was on shift. Her body tensed at the thought of what he might do the next time. She knew the city roiled with a sex trade unlike that seen even in most third world countries, and she knew that it had consumed her friend. She knew that it was overseen by the highest municipal authority, the mayor, and that he likely profited from it. She knew that she was the only one that could reveal the story and that if she didn't then dozens, possibly hundreds, of girls would become abused, missing, and some never seen again, alive or dead. She worried for them, and she worried for herself and what could happen if she were exposed. She would have to leave the city, possibly the state. And she did not want to consider the worse, other, possible consequences of exposure. She took a seat and pulled up her laptop. As soon as she did, she felt a presence nearby, then looked as a young woman approached her.

"What are you doing on this side of town?" Claire's voice chirped, as she pulled up a seat across from Reagan. Reagan glanced anxiously in the direction of the barista.

"Hi," she said, forcing a grin. "I go to school up here. What are YOU doing here?" She wondered sincerely, though she asked with a wide smile. The coffee shop was in a trendy, urban area, not three blocks from the offices of The Truth. None of the girls from the club could possibly afford rent in this area, and she did not know one of them that actually went to classes at the local colleges, certainly not Claire, who rolled her eyes as Reagan's inquiry, before giving a shy laugh.

"Tony," she began. "That guy that was in the other day? He's doing a show tomorrow with Taylor and Angel. He likes 'em young, you know? And little Taylor looks like she's about 16, and Angel could be her big sister. Anyway, he wanted to have me bring the girls to the location and scout it with them. It's a no-sex thing, but also full nude, so I usually go and figure out how to set up the stage, where the bar should be. That kind of thing. Last time we did this, the girls that Tony hired made so much money they quit the next day and never came back to work." Reagan listened in horror. Claire had just been the means for Sean to avoid detection, practically handing the girls to Tony, telling them where they needed to be, and then turning them loose to the wolves, with a naivete that suggested she did not truly know how awful, and how involved Tony really was.

"REAGAN!!!" came the voice from the barista. Reagan ignored the interruption.

"What, exactly, does Tony do?" Reagan asked. "He acted like he's got connections." She took the opportunity to pry.

"He's in with Freddie and people higher up," Claire responded. "That's all I know."

"Higher up?"

"REAGAN!!!!" The barista shouted once more. Nobody claimed the black coffee sitting at the counter.

"Yeah, higher up. He's like a promoter, I think," Claire said. "He puts on shows for high rollers. Brings them girls to dance, serve drinks topless at poker games, escort his guys to Las Vegas," she continued. "That sort of thing."

"I noticed you and him were friendly the other day," Reagan continued.

"Reagan?" The barista said, approaching with the coffee. "Your drink is ready."

"Thank you," she said, taking the coffee.

"Reagan?" Claire asked. "Like the president?"

"They get my name wrong every time here," she covered quickly, hoping it was believable. "It shouldn't be that hard. Anyway, you were saying?"

"Oh, Tony, he's....." Claire blushed. "He's okay." Reagan took a sip of her hot coffee and gave a knowing smile.

"You spent the night, didn't you?" Once again, her instincts were operating on high alert.

"What?" Claire giggled. "He's hot," she continued. "And he pays well." Reagan felt sad for Claire. Here she was, knowing no more about the darkness behind Tony, who apparently hid things well from her, and even though she liked him, she was content being his hired whore.

"Has he ever introduced you to any of these 'higher ups?" Reagan asked, breaking Claire's illusion.

"Oh, it ain't like that," she said. "He doesn't let me into his world so much. In fact, I hadn't seen him in a long time before he came in the other day. He asked Sean to send me with the girls yesterday afternoon, and I sort of lingered around after they went back to their regular shifts."

"And?" Reagan grinned, entertaining Claire's moment of normal, every day girl talk.

"And what?" Claire grinned herself. "And things just sort of happened." Reagan refused to ask her what Tony paid for her services. Let her think she's just a girl and he's just a guy for a moment, she thought. Let her have a real life just for now.

"So where is the show tomorrow?" Reagan asked the part time manager of the Lucky Rabbit.

"You know, it's in this little warehouse over by the docks," Claire replied. "Which seems like a strange place, but once it's set up, it will look pretty nice. All brick walls, no windows. Back door opens up to the waterfront, not that they'll use that much. Not with this kind of party. Darby met us there. He is going to set up and run bar and be security for the girls in case anything happens, but it won't. It'll be fine. He does all of Tony's shows. If you ever dance and ever want to do one, it could pay for quite a bit of your rent or school or whatever." Claire finished, as Reagan took everything in carefully. She heard the information that might push her story along, though she would need sourcing, perhaps pictures. As Claire told it, the exchange that Reagan heard discussed would happen this weekend. Girls that worked for Tony the last time "quit." Sure they did. Or they were taken. Claire escorted the girls to pre-game the location, and served as a cover. If pressed, she could say the events seemed totally legitimate and that she had event planned them herself. Darby would escort the girls as a guard and a bartender. The parties, at least this one, would be held in a windowless warehouse along the docks with a rear door that opened onto the bay. What better way to let your clients leave, then sneak the captives out and head across the city, or elsewhere, without detection. She wondered how she could follow up on this lead that had dropped into her lap because of the off chance run in with a fellow worker at her undercover job.

"Where is this place?" Reagan asked her daytime manager, an eyebrow raised as if she might be considering the opportunity, enticing an answer from Claire.

"It's over off Harper and Craddick Street," Claire said. "Just some warehouse. Next time I see Tony, you want me to tell him you're interested?" No way, thought Reagan.

"Maybe," she said. "Let me think on it. Let me know if Taylor and Angel like it." She knew they wouldn't. She didn't think Claire would ever know.

The next few days were rather uneventful for Tony, although given the sudden shift in weather business had certainly picked up. There was nothing like a cool rainy evening that made men want to seek out the flesh of women, the kind of attention their wives couldn't give them, the kind of ownership their wives simply wouldn't allow. As the storm lingered over the city, one would think that it would wash out the filth, instead it only helped that vary same filth grow and thrive. He had visited The Lucky Rabbit once or twice though he hadn't approached Reagan as he still wasn't sure how best to approach her. They were both playing a very high risk game, and each of them had put themselves out there to a point where something big needed to happen. Even Tony was on a time line as the longer he let Reagan snoop around in his seedy little world the better chance there was of her not only finding something credible in terms of evidence, but her slipping away before he could do anything about it.

Each time he stopped by The Rabbit Tony made sure to flirt with Claire, and being the ditzy blonde that Claire was she didn't seem to think twice as each and every conversation ended up being about the latest employee Megan. Of course Claire might have had a crush on him however she understood that a man like Tony was involved with various other women, what made her feel special was the fact that despite him getting sexual relief from various women, he still sought her out, as if SHE had some sort of value that his other girls didn't. While on the subject of Megan, Claire had mentioned the dangerous situation that had transpired a few days ago where Megan had almost ended up being raped, and despite her concerns, and even Sean's concerns it seemed that they both knew that Megan's sexual assault was inevitable, something that seemed to make Megan more and more on edge as each day passed, as each day brought her closer to the weeks end when Freddy would return and demand his pound of flesh from Megan.

Throughout the various conversation Tony had played a specific role where he had made it look as if he was genuinely concerned about Megan, after all he had already given Claire the impression that some of the girls that worked for him were paid VERY well, though she had no idea just how brutal the reality was for the girls that disappeared from The Luck Rabbit. One particular evening when Claire was getting off from her shift Tony just HAPPENED to catch her as she was leaving. He didn't waste any time to curl her firm young body into his arms, giving her a playful kiss before insisting that the two eat out. By that stage it was less than two days before Freddy was scheduled to make his little stop, and it wasn't until Claire brought up her concerns that Tony offered a solution while they were at dinner. He set down his fork as he leaned forward and said “Listen... I know Megan isn't the kind of girl who wants to take off her clothes, but I did hear her saying that she wanted to make some extra cash... I have a way where she could avoid Freddy and make some extra money, without having to get naked” Said Tony. Clair looked up at him curious as she had no idea what he could possibly mean “I... I don't understand, I thought your clients were only into a particular kind of.. Service?” She asked, trying not to sound too crude. Tony let out a hearty laugh “I have all kinds of clients.. But you're right.. This won't be like the usual affair. I have the usual higher up clients coming into town tomorrow, I set up a card game as well as the after party entertainment. All I'd need Megan to do is dress up in something provocative and play hostess for me.. It'll get her out of The Rabbit for a day so she can avoid Freddy and I'll make sure that shes very well taken care of. Hell I'm sure she'd make a few grand on tips alone for a days work!” Said Tony, sounding proud of himself.

While it would help out her new friend, Claire couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as she asked “Well.. Ya know Hon... I... Wouldn't mind getting in on something like that either.. If its just hosting, I'm your gal!” She finished with a playful wink. Tony let out a chuckle as he replied with “Tell ya what.. If you can get Megan to do this, you can co host. I'll split the payment between the two of you, but you should each make plenty in tips” Tony said to her, baiting her in a way that he knew she wouldn't be able to refuse. “Okay... Anything for you Hon” She replied as sweetly as she could. She was also happy that things would work out for her as well. Claire might have been a little jealous of the attention Megan was getting, however at the same time she wasn't a malicious girl, and the last thing she wanted was to let Freddy get his grubby little mitts all over her new friend.




Once it was agreed upon Tony pulled Claire closer as he spoke “This is a big opportunity, but this also has to stay hush hush.. I'm sure you understand what its like for those that want to maintain their privacy.. Well this just happens to involve me as well.. So when you talk to Megan about this.. Don't bring up my name alright?” Tony said to her in a hushed tone. Claire looked at him with an odd look “Don't.. Mention you? Why? I don't understand hon?” She said, puzzled as to why he would want to hide from Megan that it was his card game. It could have been a complicated issue, and had Claire been a smarter girl Tony might not have been able to manipulate her so easily, more than that Tony already knew how desperate Claire was for a little bit of extra money, which essentially meant that she'd most likely accept any reasoning he gave her, as long as it made enough sense to sound logical to her. Tony continued with a straight face “Claire.. I TRUST you.. I know if things go south, if even cops show up... You'll keep your mouth shut.. I'm helping out Megan, but its more of a favor for you.. Shes a new girl and I still don't know if I can trust her.” Claire didn't say anything for a while as she thought it over in her head.. What he said DID seem to make sense, and as smitten as Claire was with Tony he was right when he thought that she'd do all she could to protect him. It also made her blush slightly when he said that he trusted her... “Oh hon....” She said with a shy grin before adding “Alright. I'll do it.. I just hope she goes for it.. This will be best for the both of us... That Freddy is a real peace of work ya know hon?” Said Claire, having no idea that compared to Tony, Freddy was harmless.

It wasn't until Claire got home that evening that she had remembered about Taylor and Angel, the two girls that she was to drop off to Tony. It was an errand that she usually ran, and while she hadn't thought anything of it at first, she almost began to wonder why Tony hadn't mentioned anything about the girls over dinner. Perhaps it was because he was trying to keep his focus on her. Either way she got a text a little later that night from Tony, stating that she didn't have to deliver the girls, that he would have someone sent to the club to pick them up. Again she thought it was a little odd however she wasn't one to question Tony, especially since it meant less work for her, and on top of that from the way Tony talked it sounded like she'd be making some major cash within the next few weeks. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it, while she liked Sean and enjoyed helping him run The Lucky Rabbit, a lot of the times it almost felt as if she was putting in too much effort for far too less of a reward.

The next day it was early in the afternoon that Megan clocked in for her shift, since Sean was out for the day on personal business so it was essentially up to Claire to run the place, something she took advantage of, managing to get Megan in Sean's office for a little chat. There was a part of Megan that Claire had really gotten to like, in an odd way she almost felt like an old girlfriend, a sentiment that had grown in her mind after having bumped into her at the cafe the other day. Megan sat at Sean's desk though she rarely every looked like an authoritative figure. She waited till Megan closed the door behind her and sat opposite the desk. There really was no easy way to say it so Claire just came out with it. “Freddy is going to be coming in either tomorrow or the day after, and I think we both know that Sean isn't going to stop him from taking advantage of you, and if Jeremy interferes again Freddy will almost certainly have him fired” Claire said as bluntly as she could. She cleared her throat before continuing “Look... Before I say anything else you should understand that this needs to stay just between us, not even Sean can know bout this okay hon?” Claire caught herself and let out a quick high pitched laugh “See.. There is this card game coming up.. Its all very hush hush, a lot of big wigs will be here. Guys that pretty much run the city, but you didn't hear that from me!” Claire said sharply, as if trying to refrain from saying too much when in reality she already had. Once again she continued “Aaaaanyway... This is something I do on the side once in a while, it isn't like the usual pervy stuff. All we have to do is dress up and serve the guys. Sure some of the guys get a little roudy and and they might try to reach out for ya or slap your ass, but its no worse than here and if they get out of hand the muscle will take care of the guy in question. I can't fix the Freddy problem in the long run but this will at least get us out of the line of fire for at least another week. How about it hon, are you in?” Asked Claire, essentially bombarding Reagan with a mountain of information, adding “It is a two girl job so I kinda need an answer so if you're not in I can find a replacement, honestly though it wouldn't be much different than what you're doing here. All I need is a yes and I'll pick you up from your place around noon?” Claire asked. Doing her best to show Megan that it was one of those limited time deals, trying to bait Megan in her own way. It had been hard enough for Claire not to mention Tony's name, after all Claire was a pretty transparent girl, she didn't like to lie nor was she good at it. The only reason she had been able to manage it this time was because she thought she was doing it for Megan's own good. If Claire had slipped up and mentioned Tony's name she knew that Tony would back out, which essentially would mean that Freddy would get his devious ways with Megan... Something that Claire wanted to avoid at all costs. Once again Claire had no way of knowing just how devious Tony was and how he was manipulating her to destroy Megan's life.


Meanwhile.....

Jeff wasn't having much luck on his end either, especially when it came to Reagan. She was a hard worker, and had a knack for getting to the truth, and yet as more time went on it was starting to become very clear that Reagan was on the wrong path. It wasn't just that she hadn't handed over any REAL information, but also that the stress of being undercover was taking a toll on her. A part of Jeff would always care about Reagan like a daughter, however he still had the paper to think of, and in that moment it felt as if Reagan was an asset that was being put to waste at what almost seemed like a dead end story. He finally sat down and sent Reagan an email.


'Reagan,

I wasn't joking about daily updates. When I said daily updates I meant more than just checking in. Undercover work is slow and tedious, but I till need results. The hotel you sent me to was a bust, there was nothing useful there, and nothing out of the ordinary from their accounts. I even had a private investigator scout out that warehouse by the docks. He was on the clock for THREE days Reagan, and nothing... No exchange of any kind.. It was an abandoned warehouse, nothing more. I'm not doubting that there is a story here, but there is a reason that these things go on in the world without being exposed. You can't win every fight. You've been undercover for close to two weeks now, and I don't like the idea of you putting yourself out there for so long. I'm telling you sooner rather than later someone WILL recognize you. I've been more than generous with the resources I've allocated to you, but all of that needs to come to an end. I've got a pile of stories on my desk that I need reporters on.. You've got twenty four hours Reagan. If you can't turn up anything by then I need you back and working on something else, understood?

Jeff'

Reagan hacked out a quick and terse response to Jeff when she received his email. She was sick of his expectation that she wrap up her work right away. She impressed upon him that she needed to play a longer game, exploring the streets, getting to know the players, understanding the lines of communication and transport, confirm her sources, get them to give her quotes or to expose themselves, and then write a conclusory piece that would catch the attention of the District Attorney and maybe the U.S. Attorney. She notified him she could not be the girl reporter that raised suspicions and accusations, didn't follow through, and then spent years being abused and mocked by those who might be sources in the future. She had given him two stories already, and had every expectation there would be more. The trail had not gone dry at all. She simply needed to infiltrate the networks more, and that would take some time. As she huffed a sigh of frustration, her phone warbled.

How are you? the text said. She smiled, seeing Jeremy's name as the sender. She hated that she could not entertain the handsome bouncer at the club. There was too much risk to her cover. Her room was filled by research and files, a number of notes about city officials, and a cork board filled with photos of the same officials above post it notes featuring their misdeeds and possible connections to be explored. Part of her wanted to invite him here, on her day off, to see if she could entice him. His eyes were deep pools that she could get lost in, and he always had a smile for her that made her body tingle and her heart melt. But to come into her world would be to come into her career, which would mean to come into the knowledge of who she really was.

I'm okay. What's up? Jeremy replied.

Saw you're sick today. Everything all right? She smiled to herself. He had reached out to check up on her.

I'm good. Just avoiding Freddy, you know?

Oh, yeah. Good idea. You working Saturday?

Yep. See you then?

Okay. She found herself smiling, as she put her phone away, then went about pre-drafting the article she would submit the next day.

Later that evening, Reagan found herself standing before her bathroom mirror, applying a smokey eye shadow to accent her emerald green irises. She straightened her hair, then teased it so that the ends curled under and allowed it to cascade in waves framing her face. Shortly thereafter, she pulled on a tight, form-fitting blue and grey minidress with black trim, accompanied by some heel boots that rose just to her knees. As she got ready, she reached for her phone once more and called Claire, turning her speaker phone that would allow her to speak while putting on her earrings and putting together the finishing touches.

"Hey girl," Claire answered quickly. "You ready for tonight? I'll bet you look hot."

"Hm, I don't know," Reagan answered. "I think I need to work out more."

"Shut up!" Claire squealed with a chuckle. "You are the freshest girl we have at the club. You look sixteen, and you are THE girl that all our clients want to.........know......the most." Reagan smirked as she noted her colleague's long pause. "So I KNOW you look hot."

"What is the plan?" Reagan asked. An hour later, she found herself following Claire into the basement level of an old, though still classical and upkept, hotel in the downtown part of the city.

"Hey boys," Claire said as she walked inside what appeared to be something of an anteroom in the far corner of the hotel's convention hall, lit only by a single light above the door as the rest of the entire basement level seemed dark. The light in the room was dim, though light enough to see the cards on the table and the faces of several guys sitting in a circle. "Everybody, this is Megan," Claire said. Reagan gave a meek smile, intentionally appearing to be a bit shy, with a wave as well. "Megan, meet everybody." For a moment, she felt as if she were being fed to wolves. The men that were there smiled, nothing short of polite, although she could feel each of them as they imagined what her pussy felt like, or how firm her ass might be, as their eyes took her in completely.

As Reagan stepped behind a nearby corner bar, where some liquors, ice, and appetizers had been set out by the hotel staff, she glanced through the dim light, hazed by light smoke, to recognize several of the people at the table. In addition to three or four men Reagan did not recognize, there was Mashall Britain, the City Manager, sitting next to Caleb Shortt, the Deputy Chief of Police and head of the local police union. Across from them appeared to be Trevor Shays, the lead investigator for the local District Attorney's office, as well as Davin Kellog, an owner of the City Gazette, the chief rival of The Truth. Reagan's breath caught when she recognized Kellog, concerned that he might recognize her and put her, and her investigation, in jeopardy. She had only met him once before, at an awards ceremony at which he was honored with a national publishing excellence award. There had been hundreds of people present, each taking a few moments to say hello, while others stopped and spoke with the man for a long time, obviously long-term friends. She recalled that Jeff had wanted to introduce her, and when he did, he told Kellog to watch for her work and that she was going to make the media in the city very jealous in a few years. She sought sanctuary at the bar, planning on listening to the men chat as they played cards, and hoping she could pour while Claire could serve.

"Honey, ah..........Megan, is it?" said Trevor Shays. "Could I get a gin and tonic, sweetheart?" Reagan nodded and began to pour. She reached to place it on the bar top as Claire approached from the table.

"Huh uh, honey," Claire said in a low voice. "He asked you." Reagan looked perplexed, and Claire stepped behind the bar herself, acting as if she was showing the girl where she could find limes. "See, that's the deal. The boys have us here working because they want attention. From us. And that means they want to see you, especially up close. They want to interact with you. They want to smell you.

"Smell me?" Reagan asked. Claire laughed a bit.

"Yeah baby," she said. "This VS perfume we wear. They love that shit." Reagan nodded and stepped around the bar, then placed it on an available tray and walked it to the table. From his right, she leaned around Trevor Shays, to place the drink in front of him, careful not to spill his chips or interfere with the game in any way. And as she did, she jumped just a bit, the drink only threatening to spill, but noticeably so, as she felt Caleb Shortt's thick, meaty fingers and palm slide along the inside of her thigh nearest him, the edge of his index finger rising as high as the place where her leg met her torso, not a couple inches away from her panty-covered slit. She went rigid at the unexpected intrusion.

"Whoa," Trevor said, stilling the drink and helping her place it on the table.

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping back and grabbing the officer's wrist, preventing him from invading her further as she stepped away altogether, only then releasing him from her grip. As she walked to the bar, she heard Kellog's gruff voice, aged from cigars and whiskey over many, many years.

"Megan, darling," he said. "You look familiar. You worked this game before?"

"I haven't Mr. Kellog," she said, immediately realizing she had slipped up.

"Oh, you know me?" the man asked with a tone of surprise. It was good he did not apparently recall her outside of her facade, but she recovered quickly to further throw off his trail.

"Of course," she said. "Everybody in town knows the owner of the Gazette." She began to pour another drink for Marshall Briton who had simply raised a finger in Claire's direction to order one more. Reagan kept her head down as Claire approached.

"He owns the Gazette?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, I think that's right," Reagan said, hoping to throw her off any idea that something was unusual, as she handed off the drink.

"How do you know Claire?" Kellog asked.

"I, ah.....we work together," she said.

"Oh, at the Rabbit?" The comment brought some laughter from the table. "I hope Freddy is treating you okay down there," he said. More snickers followed.

"He, ah......he is," she responded, giving no response that suggested her fear of the man they both apparently knew all too well. The conversation was interrupted by the door opening and the table's direction being redirected.

"Darby!" said Trevor and Caleb. Reagan's eyes grew wide. She had a ton of questions. What is he doing here? Is he playing? Is he providing security? If that is it, did these men pay him? Is their money just for Darby's time, or are they paying the Rinkhals for his service? If they are paying the Rinkhals for his service, does that money go to assist their trade in drugs and sex? If so, and if done with the full knowledge of the City Manager and the Deputy Police Chief? What about the actual Police Chief? Or the Mayor? And if the mayor knows, then could she write that city officials are actually funding the sex trade directly with their money? With taxpayer money, possibly? Reagan's head was spinning. Darby saw her and grinned.

"Hey Megan," he said as he pulled off his jacket, revealing a white tank top that covered his rippling physique, along with a gun tucked in each hip of his pants. "You boys got some fine young trim here tonight!" The players laughed and nodded, as a few looked her direction. She blushed though she tried not to. As anxious as she was, she had never spoken much with Darby and certainly never heard him speak of herself as he just had.

"Tony pay you already?" Kellog asked Darby.

Oh shit! Reagan immediately thought, realizing she was on Tony's turf. He was receiving money and apparently in control of running the game and taking a vig draft for running it.

"Yeah," Darby said. "You boys know the rules, ten percent draw in front of me each hand." The men grumbled about the vig. "Come on now, you know it's Tony's rule and not mine. He'll be by later to discuss it if you want to."

"No," Caleb Shortt piped up. "No need to get heavy." The tension in the room eased. "We got cards, Marshall is playing, so we will all win tonight, and we got two pretty little girls here and if we play our cards right, maybe they'll take care of us." The men smiled, a couple of them clinking their glasses in frivolous celebration.

"Not tonight guys," Claire responded. "Not that kind of game." A few of the players moaned. The game settled in, and one of the men that Reagan did not know approached Claire, whispering something in her ear. She gave him a look that said she couldn't believe it, then pulled back and leaned in to Reagan. "Can you cover me for fifteen minutes?"

"No," she said, a bit panicky, needing to get out of the room and out of the game. If Tony appeared, she would not be safe. "I have to leave."

"What, why?" Claire asked. Reagan did not want to say that she feared Tony. She didn't want Claire asking questions as to why she was afraid, and she also didn't want to disabuse Claire of her fantasies about the bad man. "Just.....I'm going to go outside for a minute with Blaine. Just give me fifteen minutes."

"Why are you going outside?" Reagan asked. "What's out there?" Claire gave her a similar look as if to tell Reagan she could not be serious. Reagan quickly figured it out. "Wait, I thought you said we didn't have to do that sort of thing tonight?"

"You don't," Claire said. "But, it's an extra $250 and it's just a blowjob. Someone has to stay here." Reagan sighed. "Come on!" Claire continued. "Fifteen minutes, then you can go home if you feel like you must. But Tony is going to be pissed."

"Tony?!" Reagan finally said. "See, you never told me this was Tony's game or that he had anything to do with this." Claire had slipped up, violating Tony's orders, but it was too late. Reagan was already here, and she knew she was too close to being in a trouble she didn't want to be in. Fifteen minutes would seem like forever. "Please hurry," she told Claire, who quickly grabbed the man's hand, and walked him outside into the dark conference center. Unbeknownst to her, at that very moment, Tony was parking his car in the underground garage, and making his way to check on the game and hoping that Claire had delivered his new toy.

There was a reason that Darby had arrived at the card game before Tony, it was Darby's job to confirm that Reagan had made it to the game, and whilst making the collections from the players he had sent Tony a quick text confirming that Reagan was there with Claire. Once having confirmation Tony got on his cell and started making calls. The first one was to the Mayor's aide. The aide had confirmed in one of their earlier conversations that they had Reagan followed, after all it was Tony that had insisted that surveillance wasn't needed anymore. However what he DID need was some of the fruits of that labor, specifically Reagan's address. The aide knew better than to ask for specifics, and as he read out the address of the apartment Reagan was at he knew what was about to happen. From the aide's thinking it couldn't have been soon enough. Once hanging up with the aide Tony made another call. It took a minute before the other end picked up. An African American with a thick voice answered “Yo boss!” Tony was quick to respond “Duane I have a job for you. The address is 1596 Everwood Street, its an apartment complex. The apartment number is 57, its a ghost job. Its for the reporter.. Take everything work related, laptop, printouts, folders, anything that links to what she has been doing for the past few weeks, you got all that?” There was a short moment of silence before Duane finally responded “Yeah yeah Boss, I got the address down. 1596 Everwood Street and apartment number 57. Ghost job, in and out without a trace. What do you wanna do with all the loot?” asked Duane. “Bring it to the pit, I'll dispose of it. You know how important this is, so I'll say it again.. Make sure there are no witnesses, as if you were never there!” After which Tony hung up.

The pieces were starting to fall together, once Reagan went missing EVENTUALLY people would start looking for her, it was his job to try and make that waiting period as long as possible. The biggest problem was not knowing how she contacted her boss or how much her boss actually knew. Its why Tony was taking the precaution of having her apartment cleared out of everything she was working on. No signs of forced entry could mean that she'd simply disappeared of her own accord, and since there would be no evidence of what she was working on, nothing would point to Tony, The Lucky Rabbit, or any other truths that she might have uncovered. Finally the last text was sent back to Darby, a simple message that read 'Get the place under lock down, I'll be there in less than 15 minutes'.

By the time Tony arrived at the hotel some of his men were already there waiting, it looked as if Darby was quick to respond to his request. Tony gave the men a quick description of Reagan, though he was sure that she'd never make it that far even if she did try to run as he would be keeping a VERY close eye on her. He made his way down to the basement level of the hotel, as he approached the entrance of the room where the card game was going down his men were already guarding the door, as a matter of fact Claire was about to reenter with her arm around one of the players. Tony ran up to the two just before they reached the door, giving the man a tap on the shoulder to see who it was, once the man turned around Tony said “Miller! Looks like the game isn't the only thing that's of interest tonight huh? Don't worry your wife will never know” Tony paused to let out a quick laugh adding “I'm going to borrow little miss Claire for a moment.” Miller gave a quick nod, after all his needs had been met by Claire so he was itching to get back to sate his other vice, which happened to be gambling. It wasn't until Miller stepped through the door that Claire turned to Tony, her voice was uncertain as she said “Shit hon.. I think I messed up.. Megan knows.. I mean Darby kinda just barged in, and while he was collecting the vig he mentioned your name.. I didn't even think to say anything.. But really.. Its okay, I mean you can trust Megan hon” Tony let out a chuckle as he motioned with his finger towards Claire's lips “You missed a spot” To which Claire raised her index finger and made a circle around her lips, wiping off a small droplet of cum that she'd missed after her blowjob. “There we go, perfect” Tony said with a wink before getting back to the point “And don't worry about Megan, I've seen how she works at The Rabbit, I was planning on making her an offer tonight anyway.” Said Tony. Claire looked up at him with a confused expression “I... Don't understand hon, what kind of offer, and if you wanted to ask her whats the deal with all the hush hush about not mentioning your name?” asked Claire. Tony leaned forward, his hands held her head in as he gave her a soft kiss on her forehead before lowing his arms “Don't worry your pretty head about the details. Megan looks like a smart girl and I think she'd jump at the chance of working for me” Tony said. “Hmmm I dono hon.. She.. Isn't really the kinda gal to go for that kinda thing..” Replied Claire. Tony grinned at Claire “How about this.. If I can get her to come work for me, I'll talk to Sean about getting you a raise” Said Tony, sounding very confident in what he'd said. Claire was still skeptical however she knew better than to question Tony.. The guy just had this way of getting whatever he wanted and even though she had a feeling that Megan would NEVER go for it, she couldn't quite rule out the possibility that Tony could get her to change her mind. “If.. You say so hon.. I mean I'm not gonna say no to more money!” She said finally. She let out a quick squeal as Tony slapped her ass before sending her back to the other guys.

Tony waited a few moments before entering, and as he looked around it almost looked like business as usual. Though Reagan had noticed him right away, Tony didn't approach her until Claire had left the small bar area to serve the men at the table drinks. As he approached he could feel his heart starting to race, not so much as a result of what she was wearing, even though that cute black and gray mini dress was VERY sexy. The girl really did know how to show off that perfect little body. The reason behind his body's reaction was due to the fact that her body would FINALLY be his! As he walked up to her he wrapped his arm around her waist, his eyes once again turned to the table, Claire had let out a soft squeal as one of the men had pulled Claire onto their lap “Stooop.. I'm gonna spill something!!” Claire said while trying to remain as playful as possible. Tony leaned into Reagan, his lips hovering over her ear as he whispered “Miss Reagan Tennyson.. I'd like a quick word with you... In private.” The instant he mentioned her name he felt her body tense up around his arm. It was the one thing that her boss had warned her of, the one thing that she seemed sure would not happen. The man that she knew as Tony, a man whos reputation she must have known, had just informed her that HE knew exactly who she was.

Reagan also had no way of knowing if the whole thing was a set up, if the men at the table also knew who she really was.. Though that was very unlikely as being a reporter Reagan had to have been good at reading people. Even with Tony she knew enough to stay away from him, though thanks to Claire she had ended up right where she didn't want to be. Tony kept his arm firmly wrapped around her waist as he led her out of the main room, and as they walked out Reagan would have had to notice the two large black men that were guarding the door, men that hadn't been there when her and Claire had first arrived. Tony led her into the nearby conference room that Claire had used a little earlier.. The scent of sweat and sex still seemed to be in the air from the blow job that Claire had provided a few minutes earlier. Tony walked her deeper into the dark and unlit room, and it wasn't until they came to a wall that Tony threw her against it. Her chest slammed against the wall as Tony's body pressed up against her from behind. His right hand gripped her tightly by the back of her neck, the actions were to both shock and scare her. As he held her against the wall, his hand around the back of her neck kept a firm grip as his lips hovered over her right ear. “I have NO problem slitting your throat RIGHT here.. Most of those men in there would pay to see me do it.. Hell I'm sure even after the fact they wouldn't mind having a go at this tight piece of ass...” Tony said crudely as his left hand moved onto her outer thigh, his fingers starting to pull up her mini dress until it was scrunched up around her waist. His body pressed up against hers, and even through his sizable cock pressed against the crack of her ass, Tony continued “I know who you are... Which means you must know who I really am, and what I'm capable of.. So when I say you have no way out, I think you know that isn't just a threat.” As he said that he pulled his body away from hers, only to pull on the back of her neck, prying her away from the wall by just a few inches. Once he'd pulled her off the wall he pressed his body against hers again. His left hand moved from her waist to her crotch, his fingers crudely moving along her panty clad slit as he spoke “You're going to go back in there... You're not going to say a SINGLE word about this to Claire.. You're going to continue serving those men until the card game is over.. After which I'm going to see just how good this pussy REALLY feels around my cock...” His words were lower, almost as if he could picture the act as he spoke, and by that stage his middle finger was very vigorously stroking Reagan's slit through her panties. “Or.. If you make a fuss, or I think you're going to try and make a run for it.. I'll announce to all the men at the table who you really are.. After which I'll let each and every one of them rape you however they desire, for as long as they desire.. If we go that route.. Its safe to say that you wont be leaving this place alive...” Tony said very slowly. He could practically smell the fear from her as his left hand pulled away from between her legs, slowly he lowered her dress back to where it should have been, though he kept his right hand gripped firmly around her neck from behind. Given what happened to her friend Jessica, Reagan had to have known the VERY serious kind of danger she was in. For all she knew Jessica was already dead, so when he said that he would kill her, it was definitely more than just a threat. Not to mention that he had almost made her rape by his hands a lot more appealing than the alternative.. Which was basically to get gang raped by a group of men who really DID want to see her dead.. “Now... Lets see if you can get through tonight's service hmm? Be a good girl for me... And we'll see bout keeping you alive hmm?” As he said this he began to lead her by her neck, walking her out of the conference room, and as they got to the threshold of the door that would lead to the other men, the guards at the door couldn't help but grin at the way Tony was holding onto her. Tony gave the two men a nod as they reached for the door and held it open. Tony gave Reagan a firm push by her neck, causing her first few steps to stumble as she stepped back into the large room where Claire and the other men were waiting.

The card game would only go on for a few more hours, not that long to wait since Tony had lusted after the little slut since the moment he had laid his eyes on her... It wouldn't be long now.. The poor girl was now his, even she couldn't have known just how bad things really were, that at that very moment someone was in her apartment.. Had no idea just how easily she'd disappear from the world, never to return as the same woman..

Reagan was relieved when she saw Claire enter the room. Though she had been uncomfortable in the room alone with the card players, she had to simply endure the occasional brush of a hand along her thigh, or lewd suggestion as she served a few drinks while the gambling took on an intensity of its own, drawing their attention from her somewhat.

"Thank god you're back," she said, as Claire approached, merely a split second before she saw Tony enter the room just behind her.

Oh, shit, she thought to herself and immediately reached for her cell phone to quickly hack out a message to Jeff, the one person who knew of her undercover work. Quickly replacing the phone near her purse behind the bar, discreetly so that Tony didn't see as he approached, she looked back at the table, acting as if the thug had not upset her, as if paying attention to her sole job for the moment. She couldn't let him see that she was frightened, and she needed to remember she was with Claire and would probably be okay. Claire grabbed a tray and two drinks, heading to the table just a moment before Tony arrived, stepping himself behind the bar. Reagan gasped as she felt the man's arm wrap around her waist from behind. To the table of card players, he was nuzzling up to one of his girls, whispering something in her ear, and doing nothing unusual. His words to her, the men could not quite see, chilled her to the core.

"Reagan Tennyson...." her spine stiffened and cold, electric jolts of electricity shot from her back down her arms and legs, while the hair on her neck felt like it touched every ice cold atom in the room. There was no good implication that came from hearing her own name spoken in her ear as she felt the man's body press against her. She was now in immediate, perhaps awful, danger, and her eyes scanned the room for any possible exit other than the door she had come in, which would not be easy to get through with Tony blocking her path to it. The rest of his words were lost, and a moment later, she felt her legs unsteadily walk her through the door at Tony's insistence, as he lead her away.

Where are we going? Reagan wondered to herself, unsure whether or not to speak her thoughts at all. She dared not admit her identity. What if Tony was just guessing? What if he wasn't? Either way, she had no smart move. She stepped into the conference room, only a foot in front of Tony at most. She kept walking, unable to bring herself to turn and face him, wanting to leave the terror she felt to her back, as if she could ignore it and it would go away. That was when she felt his grip on the back of her neck, then instantly felt herself pressed against the wall. Ugh, god damn it! Reagan thought as she was pressed harder into it. She recalled her abuse from Freddy instantly. What is it with these guys and the wall? Her mind remained composed, always able to assess the situation and compare it to some other reference point. She was a good reporter, even when she was frightened, as she was now.

“I have NO problem slitting your throat RIGHT here," she heard Tony's harsh tone as he stood behind her, his grip an iron bar around her neck. Her body tightened again, and her blood ran cold. She became further alert to just how terrible her situation was. She had no doubt he was not lying. She had no doubt this man would kill her, or anyone, if he felt he needed to. She risked nothing by saying nothing, knowing it was her only play. She could not survive if she did not remain calm. At the same time, she felt ready to sob and wished her daddy was here to comfort her.

She listened as Tony suggested the opportunity the others might have, or want to have, with her, and she whimpered a bit as his hand ran over her naked thigh, then up, raising her little dress, his fingers playing with the soft skin along her side just over the place where her panties wrapped along her hip, then slightly over the waistband toward her stomach. She thought of the men in the room, to which he was referring. Caleb Shortt would love to tell the cops on the entire force, which elected him to head its union, about how he personally made sure the little girl that was trying to put so many of them in jail or before a grand jury experienced the force's wrath and expressions of how much they loved her. Davin Kellog would eagerly take a stab at his chief rival's cute intruder upon his own paper's journalistic legacy and threat to his reporters' viability. She had no doubt the others in the room would enjoy her equally, or more, just as Tony said in her ear. She felt him hard, pressing his cock against her ass.

“I know who you are," he said.

"Please let me go," she interjected, to which he continued, as if she had said nothing. She felt him step back from where she was, allowing her room from the wall as he pulled her back a bit on his own, still holding her by the neck, before pressing against her, pulling her little frame against him once more. His hand moved to her panties, his fingers now pressed against her lips, still covered by a black and red pinstriped pair of lace cheeky panties. She felt her skin crawl all over in her disgust.

“You're going to go back in there, you're not going to say a SINGLE word about this to Claire," the man told her. "You're going to continue serving those men until the card game is over.. After which I'm going to see just how good this pussy REALLY feels around my cock.” She pressed her eyes tightly shut when the words registered in her mind. There it was. She was not going to get out of this easily. He would not simply scare her and send her away. Her modest notoriety in the city would not protect her. His intentions were now out there for her to know and fear. She felt his fingers below moving faster, causing her to quiver and know that worse would likely be there soon. The remainder of his threats, both to her body and her life, washed over her as her mind tried to grasp just how bad her situation was. She said nothing, not knowing what to say. Then suddenly, faster than he had come upon her, he was there, brushing her dress back down so that it once again covered her hips and firm thighs, as one might carefully wrap the leftover items that he would use later. Reagan knew he was doing just that very thing. He admonished her to be a good girl, then marched her back to the room, where he forcefully released his grip as he shoved her back inside, causing her to stumble slightly.

Reagan's face felt flushed as she stepped back toward the bar, brushing her hair back, looking down at the counter, glancing toward her phone and hoping Jeff had responded, letting her know he was on his way to the city to track her down and pull her out of this mess. There were no messages she could see, however, and she did not dare risk sending another as long as Tony might see her from his vantage point.

"Everything okay, Megan?" Claire chirped as she approached the bar. "Can you get me a gin and tonic for Mr. Britain?"

Fuck you, Claire, Reagan thought to herself before nodding and mixing the drink she was to serve. "Yeah, it's......I'm okay," she said, handing the drink to her fellow hostess with perhaps a bit of an attitude of fear, disgust, resignation, and animosity, all rolled together.

"You sure?" Claire asked, noticing her friend's actions didn't match her words.

"Yeah," she said. "Just go." No sooner had she dismissed Claire than one of the men stood up as the dealer threw down two more cards.

"Damn it!" The man she did not recognize said, before gathering his wallet and keys and walking out the door. Moments later another man was knocked out of the game, a game that Reagan now wanted to last forever. Her phone warbled.

Everything okay? Jeff had texted. She made a show of putting the phone down immediately and not responding, since she noticed Tony's head turn her direction when the phone went off. She just looked back at him, her finger tapping on the counter behind the bar, anxiously thinking of some way, any way, to get out of the situation. She continued to mix drinks and serve them to the men, acting as if nothing was wrong, though she suspected she was not convincing. As the hours wore on, the men one by one stood up, then left. Eventually Darby disappeared himself, and there remained a single dealer, Davin Kellog, and one of the men she had not recognized. She had been relieved when the Deputy Police Chief and City Manager had left, but with each person out of the game, she knew she was closer to a confrontation that could end her life or a reckoning with Tony in a seedy room upstairs that would ruin it.

The remaining players continued for nearly an hour, and close to one o'clock in the morning, Davin Kellog said the magic words that Tony perhaps had been waiting to hear.

"All in," the man said in a gruff tone. His opponent called the bet, and in a moments time, pocket queens defeated an inside straight draw that didn't pan out, and the game was over, the two finalists shaking hands and laughing as Tony paid out the winnings. The runner up pocketed his money and thanked Tony for the game, then quickly left. "Are your boys still out front?" Kellog asked, referring to the guards. They were not. "You let me give you about $300 of this back to fuck this one?" Kellog motioned his head toward Reagan. "She reminds me of my little girl." Reagan's stomach turned and she wanted to vomit. She noticed he and Tony turn and face the wall, leaning close and whispering with each other, such that she could hear nothing. The publisher leaned back and raised his eyebrows, breaking the silence. "Free?" He asked. "Sold!" He said, shaking Tony's hand, then turned to Claire, who was cleaning up the drinks left at the poker table. "Claire, honey," the man said as Reagan acted busy behind the bar, trying not to draw attention to herself any more than was already being paid. "Come on, darling. You're gonna help me celebrate at my place," he said.

"Oh, I am? Well, ah...." Claire sputtered a bit, seeming taken aback and surprised at the winner's demand of her. She looked toward Tony, who simply gave a stern look, making it clear what Claire was to do. "Gimme just a second, hon," she said, walking her tray to the bar.

"Do not leave me here, Claire," Reagan whispered, nearly between her clenched teeth.

"Baby, I got no choice right now," Claire said. "I need the money and if I get on Tony's bad side with his clients it won't be good for me, trust me." Reagan had no doubt. And she had no doubt it was about to get bad for her as well.

"You have to get me home first," Reagan said. "Please. You can not leave me here." Claire seemed to play dumb or else she was perhaps actually the dumbest person alive.

"It's okay," she said. "Just shove what is left here in the trash, and Tony will lock the place up. Have him call you a cab." Reagan fought back a tear. If only it were that simple and that painless. She wondered how Claire, the one who knew tony, who knew the business, could be so naive as to what was about to happen. "I gotta run," she said, stowing her tray and collecting her purse, then heading into the night with Davin Kellog, whose paper would never report on the illicit things that happened, and would continue to happen tonight or as long as the corrupt city hid these tales.

Reagan found herself immediately alone with the terror of her soul and the darkness of the only man in the room with her. She finished cleaning as best she could, under the circumstances, figuring the hotel staff could get anything she had missed. She grabbed her clutch purse, the only thing that had any identification of her, along with her card to get into The Truth building, her social security card, her insurance card, and a picture of her mom and dad. With it, she grabbed her phone. Not knowing anything else she could do, she began to walk from the bar toward the door, the only exit to the room, which would necessarily take her directly to Tony if she had any hope of passing him and getting out of the room, and the building, and back to her own place. She knew he would not let that happen. With each step, she waited for him to interfere with her naive desire to simply walk out and leave undercover work forever. With each step, she felt the horror of anticipating what was about to unfold.


Jeff woke up from the chair he had fallen asleep in, and noticed his phone was still dark. Earlier in the evening, he had received a message from his star reporter, the same cute girl he worried about sometimes as a father, other times as a prospective lover, jealous over his younger mistress' activities outside his presence. The message had been simple and cryptic.

The Darlington. When he had seen it, he had no idea what it meant. He was not about to spend time in another hotel bar waiting to see criminal activity that never developed. Needing more information, he had sent a response at the time.

Everything okay?

Now it was 4am. Reagan had never responded. He picked himself up, dumped his drink from earlier in the sink, and made a note to ask her about what it meant the next day. As he carried himself slowly to his bedroom where he would finally go to bed, he had no reason to know about the screams and sobs coming from the 10th floor of The Darlington overlooking the bay, shrouded by the deep morning night.

Tony kept in the shadows as the card game continued, and while the attention of the men at the table shifted from the game at hand to the lovely ladies that were serving them, Tony's attention was solemnly fixed on Reagan. Even Claire seemed mostly ignorant to Reagan's inner torment. The truth was that it had been some time since Tony had a girl working for him who was as attractive as Reagan, as a matter of fact the last girl that came even remotely close was her friend Jessica. In a way it was almost ironic the way Reagan had chased down the story to pull her friend out of the twisted world she had gotten herself wrapped up in. Sadly it seemed that Reagan would meet a fate that was very similar to Jessica's. Reagan was one of those girls that had that 'barely 18' look, the fact that she was a strong and independent young woman was an additional bonus. In the past there were many ways in which he had abducted girls. Each girl was unique and different, and different girls required different approaches. Her friend Jessica for example, a very pretty girl, however not the smartest, Tony had used manipulation more than anything else when it came to Jessica, by the time he started imposing his will on her she was so strung out on drugs that there wasn't much of a will left within her. Even the gang rape was something that Jessica had only half heartedly resisted, as by that stage she knew her fate was sealed.

With a girl like Reagan the best tactic would be to so simply drug her, force her to inhale chloroform and then move her to a safe location, strip her down and then tie her up by her wrists. After all a girl like her wouldn't make things easy. Of course the Mayor wanted Reagan to pay, on top of that Tony wanted Reagan to feel just how much frustration she had caused. He wanted to break her in the worst way imaginable, through endless physical, sexual, as well as emotional abuse. It would be brutal, as well as non stop. Reagan was no doubt used to dipping her toes within the seedy underbelly of the city, first was her undercover work that led to the downfall of one of the police precincts, second being her recent experience working at The Lucky Rabbit. What she most likely wasn't used to was the realization that she wasn't above the rules. The Red Light District was known to snatch up pretty faces and spitting them out as street walkers, and now Reagan would meet the same fate..

Reagan's future would hold mind altering substances, there would be drugs, as well as various other things that Reagan had never imagined she'd have to live through. However for that particular night Tony wanted Reagan to be FULLY aware of what was happening. Tony watched as Reagan moved back and forth from the bar to the card table, however given Regan's slyness even Tony hadn't noticed the quick text she had managed to send to her boss. As always the men would reach out for her, their hands trying to grasp at her breasts, or cop a feel of her ass, some even trying to get their hands up her dress. She brushed off all advances however those things were the least of her problems. As each member at the table left it yielded both relief as well as additional fear of what was to come.

All the men at the table were notable in one way or another, each served a purpose that helped keep Tony's devious empire running, just as they were all connected to the Major and his dealings. It wasn't much of a surprise that Davin Kellog had ended up on top when all was said and done, after all he was a pretty good card player. His newspaper, The City Gazette wasn't one to be laughed at. Much like The Truth, it was respected, and Kellog himself had a talent for reading people, which was one of the reasons he was such an exceptional poker player. When Kellog mentioned wanting to fuck Reagan, and more so that she reminded him of his daughter, Tony couldn't help but let out a loud laugh. It wasn't something that Kellog would have said when company was around, as he was very image conscious, however Tony knew far too many of his secrets for Kellog to be coy. Tony was a man who knew how to present himself. When the situation called for it, he was a thug, at other times he was a sophisticated businessman, at least that is the image he liked to portray at times. While Tony wouldn't have called Kellog a friend, he was certainly a close associated. Someone who had contributed a lot of money in the past few years. As a matter of fact just a few months earlier Kellog had invited Tony to his daughter's 18th birthday. The reason Tony had laughed a little earlier was because Reagan really DID look a lot like the man's daughter.

At one point or another Reagan would end up opening her legs for Kellog, however it wouldn't be that particular night.. There was no way he'd be able to handle Reagan, which was why he had essentially pimped out Claire to him, with a whisper letting him know that Reagan would be very much open for business in a few weeks. It wasn't long after that Claire left with Kellog... Leaving the room empty, with the exception of Reagan and Tony.

The way Reagan had composed herself in the past few weeks, she had always left herself some wiggle room, leaving herself with a way out if things got a little too hairy.. This time however there was no place for her to run, no place to hide.. The text that she had sent her boss, even if he had somehow managed to decipher what she had meant, there was no way in hell he would be able to make it to her in time. That is of course unless Reagan stalled. Tony looked over at Reagan from across the room, while his eyes had been on her the entire night, it was the first time he had given her a smile. There were many ways the next few hours could have gone down, and as he started walking towards her he knew that even Reagan's reaction could be quite opposite to what he had expected. After all she might have tried to cooperate to lessen the blow that would be her immanent rape. Of course Tony didn't want her to give in, he didn't want her cooperation.. Tony wanted what was to come to be rough, cruel, and brutal.

His steps were quick, even though he was a large man, he was very much a man who kept fit. His size was built up of muscle and not fat and as he came up to Reagan he lunged out for her and wrapped his arm around her thin waist, lifting her off her feet as he started to carry her towards the door under his arm. She felt weightless around his arm as she tried to kick and scream, however her actions were far from harmful, and even those within an earshot would not come to help her. He kicked the doors open as he started walking down the hall, once he got to the intersect instead of going down the hall that led towards the staircase and the elevator he turned in the other direction. The hallway was dark, and once he arrived to the end it led to a service elevator. The door was already open as if it was waiting just for him. He kept his tight grip on Reagan's waist as he carried her into the elevator under his arm. Without much effort he pressed the button for the 10th floor. There was no need for him to speak, and no matter what she said, or how she screamed he kept silent. She was COMPLETELY in his power, and nothing she was going to say, or do would save her.

The elevator ride took less than two minutes before the door slid open. The hallway was dimly lit, all the room doors seemed closed except one. Once again there wasn't a single person in sight and as he entered room number 9 he didn't even bother to close the door behind him. Reagan really had nowhere to run, though the open door might have given her SOME false hope. Tony had her.. REALLY had her, and by no means was he about to slip up and let her slide through his fingers. He flicked on the light switch as the room lit up. The hotel might have looked somewhat rundown however the rooms themselves were exceptional. There was champagne in a bucket of ice next to the large king sized bed.

If they were at the pit Tony could have cuffed her down, or even shackled her down. He had done it with far too many young women to count, however at the hotel he was somewhat limited on resources. What was to happen next would need to happen fast. Tony threw Reagan onto the bed. She'd barely landed on her back as Tony jumped on top of her. Immediately his left hand lunged out and grabbed her by her throat. He pressed down on her so hard that it almost looked as if he was driving her neck into the mattress. Immediately he felt both of her hands wrap around his left wrist, clawing at him given the fact that he'd blocked her air passage. He pulled back his right hand, not a moment later he growled “SHUT... THE FUCK... UP!!” As he brought down his right hand and gave Reagan a cold slap across her cheek. It might have been a slap however it was almost delivered with as much force as a punch. The slap would no doubt leave a very visible bruise within the next few hours. He continued to hold her down by her neck, only alleviating the pressure here and there to give her a few desperate breaths of air.

His right hand quickly started to work on undoing his pants, a moment later he pulled out his fat cock from the slit in his gray briefs. He was only working with one hand since the left would be occupied with holding her down throughout the act. It was lucky that she was wearing a dress, all he had to do was jerk it up and the fabric was scrunched up around her waist. He looked down at her crotch. Her panties of choice were quite sexy. Given the way her legs were moving around, it would be pretty tough to pull them off. Instead he forcefully slapped her legs open as he positioned himself between her. With his index finger he hooked the crotch of her panties and pulled them to the side. The view was mouthwatering for Tony. The sight of it was enough to make his already erect cock throb with impatient eagerness as Reagan choked for breath. Every part of her was just as gorgeous as he'd imagined, and he really couldn't wait to 'unwrap' the rest of her..

Given the way Reagan was struggling for life itself it wasn't a stretch to imagine she was far from aroused... He was already close to ten inches, with a mushroom tipped head, that alone would make her very tight.. More so if she was dry. Even though Reagan was squirming and TRYING to fight back, Tony didn't have much trouble keeping her in place given the sheer size difference between the two. He positioned his mouth to where it was hovering directly over her pussy as he spat out a thick wad of saliva directly over her slit. Next he took a hold of the base of his cock and smeared the head with his saliva. It wasn't exactly KY however it would have to do, it was the most lubrication Reagan would get...

He lined up the head against her entrance, the head felt an immense pressure as her muscles did their best to keep her clenched shut. His eyes pulled away from her pussy for a moment as he looked up at her face.. She was red due to the very little oxygen she was getting “Goddamn you're a tight fucking tease” Tony said in a strained voice as he started to push forward. As he did this he purposely clamped harder around her neck, stopping her from both breathing as well as speaking. The initiation of her rape was one she'd have to endure while fighting for fresh air. For all she knew Tony WANTED to kill her, and for a man like him it wouldn't even matter if he'd accidentally killed her during the act.. It wouldn't stop him from fucking her. Slowly he inched his hips against her... His head continued to stretch her until it was fully submerged within her tight walls.. It wasn't until his head was locked inside her that he gave her the slightest bit of room to breathe.

The moment she'd inhaled Tony clamped down on her neck again... He released the base of his cock with his right hand as he started to jerk his hips back and forth. Each time a little bit more of his thick meat forced its way into her. “Fuck me... I know you're not virgin... But fuck... You don't have much mileage do you?” Tony grunted as he pushed more and more into her. He looked down to her crotch once again, it looked as if half his cock was buried within her, around five whole inches. He could feel the way her entire body was straining and struggling with his size. Even though he had used saliva as lubricant she was still unbelievably tight... A part of him even wondered if she'd ever fucked anyone bareback.. She almost looked like the stuck up type that would make her partner wear a condom.. Something that would be a thing of the past for Reagan from that point on.

“Don't worry.... Sweetheart...” Tony grinned, as he continued “We're half way there... By the time I'm done with you, you won't be happy with anything less than ten inches.... NOW..” He groaned “Lets...... Stretch.... That... Cunt!” Said Tony as he started to push more into her. His right hand reached forward and grabbed each one of her wrists that were still clawing at his other hand. He raised her arms and held her wrists down over her head.. She'd even managed to draw blood around his hand that was around her neck.. Though they were scratches at best and wouldn't take much time to heal. He leaned forward, his lower half was now on top of her as he used the weight of his muscular body to drive the rest of his cock into her. “Thaaaats it... Just... Let it happen...” Tony said as his cock sank into hers, despite the way her body struggled it couldn't fight gravity, and soon enough almost the entire length of his cock was buried within her...

He looked down into her eyes as one hand continued to hold her down by her neck, while the other pinned her wrists over her head. There would be no getting away from the moment, Tony made sure of that as he looked directly into her eyes “Now.... We're going to fuck... I'm going to let go of your neck... You can cry and scream as much as you want... No one is going to save you... I'm going to rape you until I cum.. And then I'm going to do it again.. And again... And again” Said Tony, and as he did he felt her already strained body tense up in fear.. The words were dead serious, and given the fact that he was already raping her he had no need to lie to her, just as he knew she didn't stand a chance to stop what was happening to her. He started to move his hips back and forth, starting the act of fucking her just as he slowly pulled his left hand away from her neck, allowing her to catch her breath for the first time since he'd started to rape her.. The cheek that he had slapped had already started to form a bruise... The sight of her was arousing in its own right.. The fact that she was still fully clothed made the moment that much more erotic for Tony, and as he began to REALLY fuck her, Reagan's REAL nightmare was just beginning..