Speakeasy Slave (Closed for Sweet_Secrets)

[dirtyqueen]

Molly laid out a silver tray of finger sandwiches and filled two crystal flutes with champagne, attempting to put on the air of a welcoming host, rather than the hardened woman who covered her heavily calloused hands and muscular arms under a pair of silk opera gloves, and her scarred legs under a pair of lace stockings. Not that she lacked femininity, far from it; even the most critical of eyes would gaze appreciatively at the way her black dress clung to her curves and her modest bust stuck out proudly from her farm-tanned skin. Then there was the way the her blonde curls were long and bouncy enough for Molly to be confused with a Hollywood actress…if her 5’11 height (without heels) didn’t make her a bit larger than the silver-screen ideal. Finally there were her light green eyes and her smile, a combination which had won her many favors and compliments, even in her pre-entrepreneurial days. Many men and women found themselves getting lost in gaze and drinking her honeyed words like they were from her club’s taps.

“You’re like a trip through the fields of Dublin, Molly” The man who had sat across from her earlier that morning had said, following her face with his eyes until she had slipped behind him. For a rat he was surprisingly trusting…he also lacked the self-preservation of standard vermin, as even the most simple-minded rodent would know that even the nicest field could hold a deadly feline. He was probably still thinking of her smile when her claws came out and launched for his throat.

“Note to self,” Molly thought as she dusted some stray specks from the ebony table, “make sure the piano is tuned.”

The woman rose from her leather armchair and walked across the plush carpet that covered her office, heading out the door and into the club proper. The club’s body was formed from a textile mill that had gone under even before the depression hit and it had been a steal for Molly. The loading bays made bootlegging easy, the manufacturing plants that were still operating kept a steady supply of desperate workers who were willing to look the other way for a bit of work, and it was far enough away from the downtown area that only a few boys in blue had to be paid off but it was close enough that the rich punters she wanted could still get there, even if they were too drunk to stand.

The decoration had been Molly’s pride and joy though. Despite the necessity of its ugly exterior, the club’s guts were gorgeous and opulent. True, the gold on the bar’s railing was just thick enough to not rub off and some of the tables were just carefully disguised rough-oak circles that had been carefully painted and covered in lace tablecloths that had wood glue applied to each night so no one noticed but the stage! The dance floor! The band stand! A working microphone! Each looked like it could have been belonged in a New York City dancehall. The sheer white on the stage looked like a painting of heaven and the talent they got at Molly’s club could make the punters think they were going there…even as their livelihoods led them straight to hell.

Molly took a quick twirl and giggled as she thought on her club’s success. So many happy faces, so much money being brought in, so many gorgeous people losing their inhibitions, and all of it was hers to treasure and keep.

“Molly? Ya all right in there sugar?” A loud voice bellowed from the club’s reinforced door, his Bostonian accent obvious, “I gots ya package for ya. Good thing you got her when ya did, I was half-ways to making some cement…” The large man stopped as the tall woman, now standing over 6’0 in her heels, had crossed the dance floor, undone the multiple locks, and come in front of the large man, here trademark smile silencing him.

“Cement ornaments? I never thought you the artistic type, Moxie.” The woman said, her peaceful green fields changing quickly into menacing jungles, “Is that her? She said, almost bouncing on her heels. She tried to peer into the tinted windows then headed past him to start tugging the door open.

“Uh…yeah, Molly, it’s her. I don’t think she’ll take to it though I mean…”

“Moxie. The only part of your statement that needs to concern yourself with is the words ‘I don’t think.’ Your job was to get her here, not talk, not elaborate just bring her here and get the money to take back to your boss…speaking of.”

The woman quickly slapped several thousand dollars into Moxie’s hand. More money than most businessmen made in a year and she plopped it down as though she were tipping a waiter at a cheap diner. Moxie counted the money, flicking the last bill back and forth, as though the sizable amount of money still wasn’t enough.

“I took care of your group’s rat problem and deducted my fee.” Was Molly’s only explanation before she shooed the man back to the driver’s seat. Molly then yanked the door open and looked inside at her purchased goods.

“Hello sweetheart,” she said, putting on her charms, “My name’s Molly and from now on, I’m going to be taking care of you.”

She extended her hand, having to hold back her tongue from licking her lips. She had come out far ahead in this deal. Any speakeasy could do well with some booze and a few cheap acts but to do as well as Molly’s…you needed something special. This girl would be a big help in that.

“Let’s go to my office and get to know each other better, Ms…?”

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

"... Halligan. I'm Janet Halligan."

Her answer was almost unheard thanks to how softly she had spoken, her voice hoarse and a little strained. No doubt thanks to all the crying and sobbing she had been doing in the car ever since she had been forced inside of it, torn away from the house and the family she had grown up feeling safe and protected with. Her father's pleas still ringing in her ears, the girl was confused and frightened as to what was going on. The most she understood was that something had happened behind her back and it had exploded in their parents. Her parents had tried to hide their... financial issues from their only girl, their large debt they owned to the mob thanks to the desperate need to pay off the medical bills. Which, ironically, perhaps had brought her into the very predicament she found herself in.

Most parents, perhaps, would have warned their child of what was going on but not Mr. and Mrs. Halligan. Not when they had no desire to burden her with their problems and were trying to fix it right up until that bitter separation.

So now founding herself staring up at the stunning woman, whose stunning looks reminded her of those tinsel town sirens her friends have tried so hard to copy during their sleepovers, she couldn't help but pull away from shock. Her suddenly standing right there after yanking open the passenger door took Janet by surprise. In her state she had thought it was that terrible man again but no. It was someone else and anyone else at that point would have been a welcomed sight for Janet judging by her relieved expression.

Janet Halligan certainly had an understated beauty to her. Perhaps she wouldn't make it big in Hollywood if someone tried to bring her there but no doubt she would have wound up as the arm candy of an up-and-coming movie star if they had learned to dress her up nicely. From her thick auburn red hair that tumbled down her shoulders to those sleepy blue eyes that seemed beguiling and naive at the same time, she was no doubt a pretty one to many a boy she knew. Any boy certainly would have enjoyed seeing Janet in her dishevelled state, the blue afternoon dress rumpled thanks to her earlier struggles with the skirt hitched up to such an immodest degree. The collar of her dress had been yanked off during the struggle, the tear traveling down her chest and showing a generous amount of her ample, lace-covered bosom to Ms. Molly.

Just realising that fact, Janet's face turned bright red as she tried to cover herself up with her arms. Feeble and useless and no doubt they both knew it. Tears welled up in her eyes, the sting of humiliation and fear strong but there she wasn't going to cry. No. Not until she had an idea of what on earth was going on.

"I- I don't know what's going on, Ms. Molly." She felt like she was going to burst into tears again but Janet held herself together, keeping her bottom lip from quivering too much. As much as Janet was demure and quiet, she still had a sense of dignity and pride to keep. Thankful of her mother's strict etiquette lessons, she managed to keep her head up and her tone respectful though the edge of desperation was difficult for her to hide. "Where am I? Why am I here? What's happening?"

 

[dirtyqueen]

"Lovely, absolutely lovely..." Molly thought as she sized the girl up. Oh yes, she'd do perfectly. The older woman's eyes were quick but thorough, like she was a butcher deciding which choice cut would be best to severe first. Molly felt a tingle of lust as she saw the rips in the girls dress and the bits of flesh that any proper lady would keep hidden

However, even as her mind danced with a thousand possible fantasies of what else lay under the girl's drab garment, she slipped back into the role of the proper host.

"Shhh..." She whispered, pulling loose her silk scarf to wipe the corners of Janet's eyes, "Shhh...it's all right. You're safe now Ms. Halligan, you're safe." Her tone was laced with concern but her strong hand was already pulling the girl away from the car slowly towards the club, like a cat drawing an injured mouse to its resting spot.

She embraced the girl, a seemingly chaste but calculated move. She smoothed the girl's hair, ran her hand down the woman's back and pressed herself against Janet. She quickly noted the way the girl's bosom felt against her, how easily her flesh yielded to her touch, how easily her fingers would be able to wrap themselves in Janet's hair...

Before she released the girl, she shot a glare at the driver of the car, making him peel his Chrysler out an almost smash into a delivery truck. She pulled away and kissed the girl on the forehead; her slow shuffle now bringing them to the doorway of the club. She kept quiet, stroking and petting the girl like she was some lost little child until she had finally dragged her inside the club and closed the door behind them.

"Janet, may I call you Janet?" Molly asked, releasing the girl. She pretended to help smooth Janet's dress, taking a quick moment to note the firmness of the girl's thighs, "You're at my little establishment, a club if you will. You're here because my club attracts some people of the guiless crowd, the type that like to open their big mouths about when they're putting the screws to a nice family that was down on their luck and needed money, the type nobody could trust a bank to give them. They were talking about how they'd like to get the money out of said family in several ways that aren't appropriate to talk about in public."

She pretended to dust off a table.

"So, being a good Catholic girl and a supporter of some honest capitalism, I see if I can buy the family's debt out right and they agree. However, since I spent so much money, I wanted to get a little something to myself...in this case, you." She shot Janet a cheshire smile, 'Which leads to your last question: what's going on?"

She let out a dignified laugh, "Well, while I would have preferred a happier occasion and for us to have reached my office first...I'm proud to be offering you a job at my club to help pay off the debt while your family gets to know what it's like to rest without having a "collection service" breathing down their necks.'

"Not too bad of a deal, wouldn't you say?" Molly said coyly, "Now, why don't we get comfortable in my office offer some prohibited champagne, and a little jazz? You do like Jazz don't you?"

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

So much was going on for the girl as she was pulled into a hug, comforted and assured with such apparently sincerity and kindness that she wanted to cry right there and then. Janet was so sure that something terrible was going to have happened to her since she was taken away from her parents. Like- Like she was going to be sold off or murdered or raped. All sorts of horrible possibilities flew in her head as she was driven to wherever she was. She was all but resigned to her fate when the car stopped at last, praying to God and Mother Mary to please give the mercy of making it quick at least.

Then she found herself safe in the arms of a woman so glamorous and so kind. Who petted her and kissed her forehead and tried to make her look proper again. She was so certain and so hopeful that maybe, just maybe, her luck for that day was looking up.

(But the strange iciness that was in her stomach spoke volumes. Volumes that she tried to ignore because she had to believe that it couldn't get worse. It just couldn't.)

As the situation was explained to her after finding herself in the interior of what she had to guess was a club of some sort, the pallor of Janet's face turned whiter and whiter underneath the healthy tan of hers. All sorts of terrible things flashed in her mind when the woman had to describe the methods of getting back the debt as things that 'aren't appropriate' because oh that sounded frightening.

She bit the bottom of her lip when it was explained that in return of her family's debt being bought off, she had to be part of it somehow. Investment, she supposed was the word? Something to ensure that was something coming back guaranteed. It left a bitter taste in her mouth that she was being used like she was commodity or meat but it could be worse for her and her parents. That's what she had to tell herself as she smiled back at the woman, nodding her head in agreement. Seeing as how she couldn't disagree or anything. Not when she was possibly miles away from safety and protection.

"Of course. I don't drink champagne but I'm fine with jazz." Seeing no harm in being led to the office, Janet allowed herself to be brought to the room if guided to it. "It's. It's interesting. It's an interesting genre of music."

She had never heard much of it in her life to be honest. Too 'provocative' as her father had described it. Too 'obnoxious and grating' as her mother had put it, finding the musicians who played it as degenerates and deadbeats who couldn't find a decent job if it-

But wait. Speaking of jobs....

"Um. I do have a question. If I'm here to work at the club... Then what will I be doing then, Missus? Will be a waitress? Be a cleaner?" That… That wasn't too bad if that was going to be the case. She had some experience in housekeeping and cleaning if that was to be her job. Given her past experience in keeping her father's church clean and keeping the house spotless, she could clean tables and wipe dishes and even clean the rooms if she had to do it all by her lonesome. Anything to help her family out of debt and out of the hands of those who were going to hurt them.

 

[dirtyqueen]

Molly guided her into the office and slid the plate of finger sandwiches across her desk after taking one for herself. The fact the girl didn't take the champagne annoyed her slightly. Not only was the product illegal but it was actual champagne, the pain she had to go through to get it to the United States, let alone this city...she took a deep breath and returned to having a warm smile.

She listened to Janet's question and bit the edge of her bottom lip briefly. She had wanted-no, the clients had wanted, some more innocence injected into her work staff, someone who hadn't been chewed up by the world and spat out. However, there was too much of a good thing. After all, Molly could only do the soft approach for so long. Still, Molly could try to ease Janet in for a while longer, as long as she had her floor ready by tonight's entertainment.

Molly circled around Janet like a coyote who was waiting for a rabbit to drop its guard. She sipped from her champagne while she let her free hand snake down to take Janet's right hand in hers. She gently rubbed her hand's side with her thumb and lowered her face down until her cheek was rubbing against Janet's. She spoke silkenly soft and ran her gloved hand over the girl's hand before she squeezed it once again.

"Cleaning? Oh no, oh no, you're far too valuable and delicate to have you do something like that. Waitressing, well, there will be a bit of that...nothing complex, just write down the drink orders and go over to the bar to get them."

Molly put her drink down and tilted Janet's chin to face her. She looked deep into her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Your main job will be making people feel comfortable." She said, smiling at her whitewashing of Janet's new position, "We get a lot of lonely entertainers and guests who need something a bit more personal than a drink or a good tune to soothe their souls. They need someone they can have a laugh with, let their hair down with, have a dance, or just hold them close so they can pretend someone cares about them for a few minutes...and if that person's as gorgeous as you, well that might let them feel like the king of the world."

She looked her in the eyes again: "You think that's something you can do Janet? It's like pretending to be someone's girlfriend for a bit...you ever been someone's gal Janet?"

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

"I. I suppose I could do that."

Janet didn't sound all that convinced however. She tried to hide the way her smile froze and her eyes widened but it was clear as day for anyone (and for her host) to see. It was so ungrateful of her to act the way she was acting, she knew, and she wanted to try and fake being happy for the older woman's sake and yet she couldn't. All she was able to do was give out these big red flags that screamed she was unhappy with the thought of the arrangement. From the way she looked away and gnawed away at her lower lip - Everything from her expression to her posture just screamed discomfort at the prospect and perhaps it wouldn't be too much of a surprise.

It veered much too closely for… for her tastes. To what those other women did. The ones who visited her father's church in their too short skirts and too high heels, wearing kohl around their eyes and a man's cologne on their skin. That made her feel uneasy and besides-

"I was somebody's girl once." Wanting to change the subject to something she felt comfortable in, she smiled at the memory of the 'somebody' she thought of. All-American fella he was. Tall and blonde with big blue eyes that made her feel safe. "Sweetest thing out of this city since I moved here with my parents from Oklahoma. But he left for the army some months back and I've been waiting for him since. We promised each other that we'll be each other's…"

First. In everything. You know. That sort of stuff. Janet never said that part aloud but the way her face turned red spoke volumes of her innocent devotion and crush to this mystery boy of hers. "Will I- Will I need to kiss the customer? As in like the way the French do?"

 

[dirtyqueen]

Molly watched the girl quiver like a little bunny. The older woman listened intently, her trained ears and years of experience allowing her to fill in the gaps and hear the words the girl wasn’t willing to say. Molly wasn’t surprised when Janet mentioned having a boyfriend at war: about every girl did and only a slack-jawed idiot wouldn’t take an interest in Janet. Molly felt a twinge of regret when the Janet all but confirmed that she was a virgin. Having a girl like her as a personal pet would be a singular pleasure: getting to mold Janet to her tastes and making her a perfect slave would make Molly the happiest woman in the world…

…but she had a professional need for the girl and time was of the essence. While it would be preferable to have the girl trained over the course of weeks to be the perfect ‘companion,’ Molly had guests tonight who needed arm candy and someone to warm their sheets. They’d need her to get a lot more experience than simple French kissing and in a hurry.

Molly smiled down at Janet with an almost matronly delight and patted her face, “I don’t think kissing will be something you have to worry about very much dear. Though I suppose a few of our guests might like to lock lips with you to put a cap on their nights.” She let her finger go down to the edge of Janet’s lips and looked gently into her eyes, “though the trick is that you just have to accept their kiss, no effort at all on your part”

Molly then craned her head down and turned it to the side in a single motion. She pushed out her lips and kissed Janet. The contact was momentary but the older woman drank in the warmth of Janet’s lips and the way her inexperienced facial muscles were no match for her experienced lips. She lingered in that dancing bit of heat and then pulled back less than a second later, smiling coyly at her new employee.

“See? Easy.” Molly pushed the platter back on her desk and sat atop of it, “Now Janet, our guests can be a rather…diverse group. You don’t have any problems with any person, do you? You know, blacks, Asians, Irish, Italians, the gays?”

Molly took a second to grab a kerchief and wiped of the excess lipstick she had left on Janet’s lips.