The Mysterious Mister "M" (HSWH CT) CLOSED

[IRP2011]

The voice on the phone didn't sound ... quite right.

He hesitated for a moment, even considering disconnecting. He considered his situation: he wasn't at work, he was alone, and he was using an untraceable cell. What was the harm if the person at the other end of the line wasn't Anne.

"Hello," he said tentatively. "I'm ... looking for--"

What name do you use...? Anne Sloan went by many a name, and he had no idea which one this person with her phone knew her by. Her porno' film name had been Anastasia; but she also had pet names that she used for prostitution ... and effort to keep various men guessing as to whether they were talking about the same whore when they compared notes in locker rooms or the smoking lounges at the private clubs.

He called her simply Anne, a privilege not many men in her life were afforded.

Then, the most logical answer to this confusing moment came to him. He asked, "I'm looking for your mother."

 

[Rpkitten]

"I'm sorry, she's not in right now," Nickie replied on reflex and quickly felt stupid for doing so. Yeah, she's not in... she's rotting in a jail cell right now. Care to leave a message??

"She's not available, sir. Can I help you?"

 

[IRP2011]

"She's not available, sir. Can I help you?"

It was the daughter as he'd expected. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Although the girl -- Nickie..., he mused with appreciation -- didn't know it, the two of them had been having a ... what would you call it ... a relationship with one another for a long, long time.

The fact that Nickie had her mother's work phone was a sign that something had gone wrong. He asked her with a tone of compassion, "Where's your mother, sweet heart? And when will she be home?"

 

[Rpkitten]

"I'm sorry," Nickie said as she crossed her arms and started to feel a little annoyed. "But who am I talking to?"

 

[IRP2011]

No doubt about it, he thought, Nickie.

Anne had talked about her daughter with him often -- every time they met, since Nickie was a key component of their relationship -- so he knew that the girl could be obstinate, firm, strong willed ... a pain in the ass, at times. But, with all of that -- and despite the fantasy he and Anne participated in -- she had never hesitated to talk about how much she loved her little girl and how she would never hesitate to do what it took to take care of her.

And there was something else that he had no doubt about. Anne is in jail. A contact with the City Police Department had sent him an email -- Your bird is in a coop again -- and after making a few discreet inquiries, had learned that Vice had done a sweep through the higher end prostitution rings, taking in whores, madams, pimps, and even well-to-do customers.

It was only a matter of time before Anne Sloan was linked back to his circle, and he didn't trust his career, fortune, reputation, or life to anyone in that circle. He had to act, and he had to act quickly.

"In answer to your question..." He hesitating, wondering just how much information he should reveal. "...I am your mother's employer ... Nickie."

He waited a moment, allowing her to understand without fail that he did know her name, and just might know her very well. "And if I can't see her ... then I need to see you ... immediately. I will have a car outside your house -- I'm assuming you are home, yes...? -- in 15 minutes. Nickie ... I'm here to help."

 

[Rpkitten]

Employer?

Nickie didn't like the sound of that and wasn't sure which way to take it given her mother's secret 'occupation'. Client... or pimp? The notes in her little black book, especially the dollar figures listed at his name, made her think client. But that tone he was speaking to her with? Upper-class pimp.

"And if I can't see her ... then I need to see you ... immediately. I will have a car outside your house -- I'm assuming you are home, yes...? -- in 15 minutes. Nickie ... I'm here to help."

Nickie paused, her brow creased in confusion. "Yes, I'm home, but --" The line went dead before she could question the man further ... and left her with the impression he wasn't the kind to take no for an answer. Lucky for him she was both curious and desperate enough to play along.

Despite the trappings of a chauffeur coming to fetch her and the implied relationship of this Mister M. and her mother, Nickie saw no need to make this any more fanciful than it needed to be. It wasn't a date. The Mysterious Mister M. would have to settle for blue jeans and a gray VPI tee shirt. And neither was she in the mood for waiting or playing timid. Instead Nickie fetches her purse, double checks that it has her can of mace and cell phone, locks the door and walks out to the curb where she waited with arms crossed and eyes narrow.

 

[IRP2011]

The car, a jet black, standard length Lincoln Towncar with generic plates -- nothing to give the indication that it was anything more than a nice luxury car -- stopped across the street and two doors down from Nickie's home. A man in dark glasses and a suit -- part of it anyway, with the chauffeur's cap, jacket, and tie missing to give an inconspicuous, casual look -- stepped out and, after first glancing about the neighborhood for prying eyes, looked directly to the girl standing on her porch, then stepped around to the car's passenger side, opened the door a bit, and waited. He gave more of an impression of an unwelcome boyfriend picking up a date without her father seeing him, than that of a professional driver meeting a client.

(OOC -- Assuming Nickie gets into the car, the driver won't say a word, only driving her across the city to a nice McMansion. Feel free to describe any of it, drive or house. Of course, if she does insist on asking questions/talking/what ever, this stuff can wait).

 

[Rpkitten]

Nickie saw the long, black car pull up across the street and stop. A black-dressed chauffeur stepped out and held the back door open expectantly. What? Couldn't park on my side of the road? she thought dryly as she crossed over to him.

"Thanks," she said mostly from polite reflex and slid into the plush back seat. The man said nothing and shut the door. Soon they were pulling out of the neighborhood and towards the beltway.

"You have a name?" she asked the man in the front seat but received no reply. "Can you at least tell me where we're going?" Still nothing.

She decided to give up and slouch back into the comfortable leather seat. Her eyes stared out the window -- they were leaving the city and heading towards the county. About fifteen minutes later they were crossing a wide metal barrier that separated a thickly forested lot from the public. The chauffeur nodded to another black-dressed figure manning the gate as they passed and drove a winding wooden trail until it opened into a spacious clearing. Whoever this Mister M was, he enjoyed his privacy.

In the middle of the clearing was the biggest damn house Nickie had ever seen... it reminded her more of an old time university building than a house, but that's precisely what it was. The car drove into a long, curved driveway and came to a stop.

 

[IRP2011]

Nickie was passed around like a re-gifted fruit cake at Christmas. The Chauffeur opened the Towncar's door and turned her over to a Stern Looking Woman in a sharp business suit at the mansion's entrance. The Stern Looking Woman gestured Nickie to follow, and at a pair of double doors at the top of a marble stair case gave her over to an Armed Body Guard with a large semi-automatic pistol in a holster under his arm. And, after donning his suit jacket and pushing the doors open, the Almed Body Guard led Nickie down a long hall to a small office where a dramatically beautiful woman in a mini dress that highlighted her long, shapely legs took possession of the girl.

At each hand off, the only words spoken between Mister M's people were, "Miss Sloan" or "Miss Sloan, she's expected". Now, however, the Leggy Woman said -- firmly, but with a polite smile on her lips -- to Nickie, "Mister M is eager to meet you, Miss Sloan."

The woman waited until the Body Guard departed, closing and locking the door behind him, then stepped up close to Nickie. With her smile widening -- not maliciously or perversely, but just politely -- she said,"I'll need to check you, please Nickie. Don't be offended ... but I need you to take your clothes off. All... of your clothes, please."

 

[Rpkitten]

Every turn of the long mansion made Nickie more curious, every 'Miss Sloan', a little more concerned, and the sight of an armed guard made her more than a little worried. Finally she was left alone with a woman -- older than her and with the look of someone who could handle her business. Or others' business, if it came down to that... which, judging from the way she eyed her, wasn't something Nickie was particularly anxious to test.

"I'll need to check you, please Nickie. Don't be offended ... but I need you to take your clothes off. All... of your clothes, please."

Nickie's eyes went wide. "Check me? For what?" she asked politely and sat on a nearby chair to unlace her sneakers. From what she had seen -- the drive in, the forest, the giant gate, and all the guards -- it was best that she not make a fuss until things got out of hand. Socks followed her shoes and then she straightened her back to draw her tee up over her head.

http://i1120.photobucket.com/albums/l494/moonwaltz8/w0007.jpg​

Nickie had never been a particularly shy girl, and nudity wasn't an issue for her. In fact, she was quite proud of her body -- lord knows she had worked hard enough to have it! She was a slender girl with long, toned legs and a flat tummy. She was tall, about five foot ten when she was standing upright, and had long, straight brown hair that fell to the center of her back. In almost all respects she was the spitting image of her mother, and was often mistaken for either being her, or she being a slightly older sister! The only real differences, obviously, being Nickie had her father's height and Ann still kept the breast implants that made her so popular back in the day.

She folds the tee and lays it on the floor. Her bra follows shortly after and her breasts perk at the first brush of the room's cool air. "Can I at least have your name?" she asks the woman as she unbuttons her jeans and pushes them down over her hips.

Now, clad only in a pair of white cotton panties, Nickie stands back up to face the woman. "See? Nothing to hide..." she tells her and makes a little turn and spin for her inspection. "Can I get dressed now?"

 

[IRP2011]

"See? Nothing to hide..." Nickie told her, performing a little twirl and finishing, "Can I get dressed now?"

Without answering, the woman -- seemingly unfazed and totally disinterested in the girl's nudity -- turned and walk away. She stopped at a door and opened it; a moment later, several lights energized automatically, revealing a walk in closet full of clothes. She turned back to Nickie, telling her, "Pick anything. Get dressed. I'll let Mister M know you're here."

Again without hesitating, she crossed back past Nickie, gathered the girl's clothes, then glanced down to her waist and demanded, "Lose the granny panties. You'll find a couple of dozen sets of new intimates in the top drawer of the blue cabinet."

And as if waiting for others to respond was against her religion, the woman moved to the door, opened it, and handed Nickie's clothes to the Body Guard, ordering, "Inspect it. Report back."

"Yes, ma'am," the man responding shooting a quick glance at the nearly nude Nickie, then following it up with a second take as the woman closed the door once more and turned ... apparently waiting -- impatiently -- for the still unmoving girl to do what she'd ordered.

 

[Rpkitten]

Nickie watched as her clothes were disposed of and the stern woman returned to stare at her expectantly. Apparently her little strip search was shaping up exactly as she had feared... less to do with security, and more to do with certain expectations. She wasn't thrilled with the notion, but what could she do about it now? Without any real options, she resigns to play along for now and steps into the spacious closet -- nothing but lingerie lining both long walls, and ran the gamut from satin slips all the way down to leather bondage wear complete with a set of spike-heeled thigh-highs resting on the floor in the corner.

"So... if you won't tell me your name, what should I call you?" she asked conversationally as she perused her options. "Mrs. M, maybe?"

She eventually fell upon something that would work... as modest as any of the tiny garments and looked to be her size. A black, satin-top babydoll with matching black v-string. She sat again on the dressing chair and selected a pair of heels to complete the look.

http://i1120.photobucket.com/albums/l494/moonwaltz8/tame_sitting-1.jpg​