& End

Nine

The memory of her time with the brothers and Darren had the same effect as a hangover on Violet the next morning. Whether through pity or some sort of unexpected need to rush out in the morning, Darren didn't come see her as usual, though it may have also been because of the extended session they had the night before. If Violet's memory was right, he'd fucked both her holes several times, stopping after each orgasm he forced out of her. Even if he was in better shape than most men his age, it had to have exhausted him.

Violet still cleaned herself with the bathroom equipment and made her way to the gym. She was too numb for emotions just then so she practically stumbled into Abigail's changing room when she found it. Abigail's face lit up like a kid at Christmas but faltered a bit at seeing her.

"Come over here into the light Violet. You don't look so good," she said.

Violet stood in the bright lamps around the mirror and pulled off her shirt and sports bra in one move. She saw now that her eyes were puffy and looked a little pink, her lips were chapped and peeling, and her tits were actually discolored, with possible bruises forming on them. Her ass felt tingly as if it had somehow gone to sleep, until and unless she clenched the muscles when she instead felt bursts of pain like she was trying to clamp her sphincter around a thorn vine.

Violet stared at her reflection, mostly just seeing her own eyes. "Abby?" she whispered.

Abigail stopped moving. Violet had never called her that, despite Abigial asking her to whenever they were together and she was in her "girly" persona. Abigail's expression hardened a bit, as if realizing something might be very wrong. Violet slowly bent forward and crossed her arms, putting her head down on them.

"Before...before you start, can you make sure I'm not bleeding back there?"

Violet's voice was level and deadpan, with almost no inflection; her request to have her ass examined sounded no different from someone asking if their hair looked all right. Abigail carefully moved around and examined the girl's ass, dragging up nursing skills from long ago that she'd buried and forgotten when she met George. Violet saw a light flicker in the mirror and glanced back down her own body. The waving bright white light was from a cell phone. She idly wondered if the girl were taking video of her ass to add to her blackmail file. Fingers poked her and pushed at her hole, but they only sought penetration enough to pull her open. Still, it was almost a reflex now for her to do what she could to let anything that wanted into her ass. This time, though, the bearing down brought a small whimper.

"I think you're fine; I don't see anything," Abigail said. Her voice was the lower, gruffer tone of her dropping the persona. She looked at Violet in the mirror and Violet thought she saw genuine concern in the girl's eyes.

Then she realized the waif was probably only worried about getting off today. She's admitted at one point that her act turned George on, but he was still over sixty, and wanted to sleep more than he wanted to fuck. Violet was her release valve. Violet spread her legs wider and backed up so her tits hung down. She halfheartedly wiggled her ass.

"Go ahead then," Violet said, keeping most of the bitterness out of her voice.

There was a very pregnant pause and then Abigail just squeezed one ass cheek. "Go. Put some Vaseline up in that hole, that should help with the chafing; it looked raw. Then get yourself a massage. If you can manage it, don't do anything with your ass except shit for a day or two. And make sure you clean and re-lube after doing your business."

Violet suddenly felt a surge of fury. "I don't need your pity you stuck-up cunt. I just knew you'd be able to see something if it was there. Now fuck me!"

Violet saw a range of emotions flash across Abigail's face. The one it finally landed on was the pouty, almost fake look when "girly" Abigail was angry.

"I don't play with broken toys. I want them fixed and working. Now go away, I have to start my exercises so my tummy doesn't get too big for Daddy."

Violet glared back at the girl through the mirror, but noticed that while pouting, Abigail almost idly bounced her cell phone in her hand. Her eyes said it wasn't just a mindless gesture. Violet pushed herself up and stomped off toward the door.

"I'll play with you again on Thursday, Violet!" Abigail almost squealed.

Violet replied with a middle finger.

* * * * *

Violet got most of her stride back over the course of the next two days, though she began making a sizeable dent in Darren's liquor supply. After returning from her gym excursion where the masseuse had coaxed her into a nap, she downed most of a bottle of amber liquid and spent several more hours in a less restful state of unconsciousness. She did manage to wake and clean herself up enough to suck Darren off (or at least provide a mouth-hole for a face-fuck) when he got home. Dinner that evening could have been between any stereotypical long-married couple; Darren touched on a few different business topics Violet knew and cared nothing about, and when he asked her about her day she merely said it was fine. True to the stereotype, he fucked her that night in missionary only long enough for him to get himself off, and then rolled over and went to sleep.

The next two days the pattern repeated. Her Thursday gym trip convinced her she'd successfully eliminated any feelings of camaraderie or sympathy from Abigail; the girl sat on Violet's face and expected to have her pussy serviced while she went to work getting her arm up Violet's ass again. She told Violet afterward that, "the shouting and everything vibrated my cunny so nice. Your tushy is pretty when it's full." Violet was glad the girl wasn't trying to fake sympathy for her anymore, but now she worried the fisting would become a regular part of their play. While her muscles didn't seem to be wearing out at all, she noticed after serious anal play her ass would be a bit dilated for a while. It might be harder to hide from Darren.

She left the gym and was walking to a bistro nearby for lunch when a voice cut through the din of the city and stopped her heart.

"Violet!"

There was no question in the voice, simply recognition. She turned slowly.

Her maid of honor, Cherise, waved at her with a large smile. She had on a white, short-sleeved sundress that flowed in the wind, pulling against her body and highlighting her model-worthy curves. She looked like a fugitive from a casual wedding, and then Violet noticed the extra sparkle as her hand waved at Violet.

Cherise came up and Violet automatically went to give air kisses as all the rich-bitch crowd did. Cherise either covered her confusion quickly or knew what to do because she returned the gesture. Then the ring was pushed in Violet's face. Violet's first thought was that it was smaller than hers. Then she managed to speak.

"Jim?" she asked.

Cherise nodded with a tooth-bearing grin. "He got hired last month. Full-time position at a financials technology company, whatever that is. He says they're tied into the stock market big names but they don't actually do anything with stocks, somehow, so they're okay as long as the stock market exists. He said he had this ring for a while but didn't want to give it to me until he was secure."

"That's great!" Violet said, mustering up every bit of cheer she could.

"Come on, I'll take you to lunch, tell you all about it!" Cherise said.

"Um," Violet hesitated, "I...I ate already. I've got something I have to get to, but it was nice seeing you."

Cherise's face fell briefly, but then her eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

"What?" Violet snapped.

Cherise still had her eyes narrowed but her wide grin had returned. "You've got nothing. You just don't want me to pay, right? Some politeness thing you picked up over the past couple months? Come on girl, I been down on you, you don't have to play those games with me. Just come with me for a bit."

Violet wanted to protest more but she did feel a little spark of joy at seeing Cherise again after however many months since the wedding. She let Cherise drag her a few blocks away to an "authentic Creole" place that overwhelmed her nose when they went in. She ordered something small and light, which was difficult given the place's menu, while Cherise got a bowl full of meat and vegetables that watered Violet's eyes from across the table. While she ate, she described Jim's proposal, something that apparently caught her completely off guard since Cherise had suggested taking

him

out to celebrate him making it past the probationary period at his new job. Violet listened and smiled but didn't engage much with the story. Cherise noticed and changed the subject.

"So is your master plan all you hoped? Lifestyle of the rich and famous and everything?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's nice. He has a jet and everything," Violet said, still drawing on her false cheer. She actually had to think back and try to remember what kind of attitude she would have shown Cherise.

Cherise leaned forward and whispered, "And you found some side hustles for when the main squeeze isn't 'up' to the task?"

Violet had to blink quickly to get rid of the stinging in her eyes. "You know me," she said, "I got some options."

Cherise laughed and Violet tried to chuckle, swallowing down the sob that threatened to burst from her throat as she thought,

my options are usually whether I'm on my back or my face while my ass gets fucked.

"So look, I'm glad I ran into you because I was frankly terrified of trying to figure out how to contact you through the Mallor empire. I want you to be my maid of honor!"

Violet felt her chest clench. "I can't," she blurted immediately.

Now Cherise looked actually hurt. "Why not?"

"Cherise...it's been months since we even talked, my life is different now," Violet said, grasping for an excuse.

"If you're worried about your husband, don't. I'm not expecting him to be there. Actually it would kind of be better if he wasn't, wouldn't it? I mean, talk about stealing the bride's thunder."

"I just...it wouldn't work, Cher," Violet said, using her high school nickname, "You must have better friends who can do this. I appreciate it but I can't."

"What do you mean better friends?" Cherise said, now looking worried, "Hey Vi, come on, what's going on? You should be talking about trying to bang a groomsman before the reception."

"It was...forget it, I meant other friends. I just can't do it, accept it," Violet said.

"I'm not accepting there's nothing wrong. Tell me what it is," Cherise said. Then she looked around and dropped her voice, "I know friends. Their husbands get rough. There's help. Even if he caught you he can't-"

Violet jerked her hand back and glared, fury and bile rising in her throat. "Fuck you!" she snapped, "Darren is the best thing that happened to me. His life is different. My life is different. You have no idea what's going on, so you assume he's beating me? Abusing me? Well guess what? You're right!"

Violet paused for a breath. Cherise looked shocked and started to say something but Violet continued before she could.

"Darren being at your wedding

would

be embarrassing. Because he would back me up when I say I haven't talked to you for months, and that would ruin your chance to hold me up like a trophy. 'I'm friends with Darren Mallor's wife, we're so tight I can ask her for anything, and if you get in good with me maybe you can get in her pussy because she's a whore.' Well forget it, bitch. I'm not going to be your wedding favor. I only whore myself for the best. I worked to get where I am. Just because I didn't need you to do it doesn't mean you get to call in old favors and get a handout."

"What the fuck, bitch!" Cherise said, all concern gone from her face.

"I'll tell you what the fuck, cunt. I hope Darren paid a pretty penny for that ring, because it's about to be your livelihood. You fucked with the wrong woman. Better make sure you can get to your office and grab your stuff before they lock the doors on you."

Violet reached into her purse and tossed a few bills of money over her shoulder as she walked out, figuring making Cherise pay for the meal would have been petty.

* * * * *

Saturday night, sometime around seven, Violet was curled up under a glass-top conference table, squirming. Partly it was from the cold, and some of it was the position, but a lot more had to do with the vibrator sitting in her vagina, slowly pulsing. While she sat, she watched the fed from a security camera in the dining room.

"Welcome, Mister Monroe, come into the dining room. Thank you, Sharon. And you must be the future Missus Monroe?" Darren asked.

"Cherise," she said, extending her hand.

Darren bowed over it. "Yes, I vaguely recall from the wedding. I apologize that I didn't socialize more with you. My wife didn't remind me of your beauty, however. Probably jealous."

"Oh, well, your wife is stunning, Mister Mallor," Cherise responded with nervous laughter.

"You, my dear, are stunning," he said. Violet had to agree with him, and she knew the full lengths of effort Cherise must have gone to. She wore a floor-length black dress with gold lining sewn into it in patterns. It clung to her figure and made her look even taller than she was. She must have had on heels too, because she almost went over Darren's head. Her hair had been cornrow braided and then styled again into an up-do that twisted them all around artfully. Violet knew that dress had been Cherise's mother's at one point and was probably the only true designer dress in her family. It was loaned around between relatives only for very special occasions. Usually there was a loud and contentious "discussion" among the women about whether an event warranted bringing out "the dress." Violet guessed the discussion this time consisted of Cherise saying, "Darren Mallor invited me to his house," and then it was decided.

Jim wore a full suit, also in black. It was tailored to fit him and almost certainly a rental; regardless of what his new job was he couldn't afford it.

"I'm very sorry to do this," Darren said as he pulled over some papers, "but I need you to sign these non-disclosure agreements. We are going to be discussing some sensitive business but these also extend to anything you see and do in here. I'm afraid I have to insist on it as a matter of privacy. I'll sum it up and tell you if you break the agreement there's a fine of two million dollars per person, per infraction."

"That's a lot," Jim said as he flipped through the pages too fast to actually be reading them.

Darren shrugged, "I know some tabloids offer up to $50,000 trying to get people to tell them what my place looks like. There was even a $200,000 'bounty' once from a fashion magazine for anyone that could verify where my clothes were tailored. I have to stay well ahead of the payouts."

Both Jim and Cherise looked over the documents as if taking them seriously but clearly didn't spend enough time to read them before signing. After that was finished, Darren led them down a hallway. The tablet, preprogrammed and linked to a control Darren had hidden in a pocked, followed them.

"So I found out the other day that you had a run-in with my wife," he said to Cherise.

"Yes sir," she said almost audibly gulping, "Sir I want to apologize if I did anything to upset-"

"No, no, I should apologize," he cut her off, "Her behavior was ghastly, completely against the image I want to convey and not representative of my feelings. Also, you should know I do not throw my weight around in petty matters. Her threat to ruin your livelihood was totally uncalled for and not something I would have followed through with, I can assure you."

"Thank you sir, that's...a bit of a relief to be honest," Jim said.

"I imagine," Darren said, "My wife will also be apologizing to you in person in a little bit. I had to practically torture the truth out of her but she fessed up."

The tabletop above her turned black; the table Violet crouched under was bleeding edge; the whole top was a display that could project images and other things like a computer monitor. Violet curled in on herself even more as she heard the door open and the three people walked in.

"If...um...if Vi-...I'm sorry if your wife didn't tell you-" Cherise stammered but Darren answered her.

"I have people monitoring when interest in me goes up for no reason. Sometimes there are business rivals and of course there's the odd child doing a school project, but it's helped me stave off some more hostile individuals. And presented me with some opportunities, such as this one. Have a seat."

Violet saw two sets of legs appear under the table to her right, followed shortly by another set to her left. Then the vibrator in her pussy turned up higher. She had to stifle a moan; before it had been lightly teasing, gently stimulating her genitals enough to keep her wet. Now it was working to actually get her off. She felt tears prick her eyes. This was possibly about to be the most humiliating night of her life.

"Now first of all, I never like to discuss business without clearing the air and you in particular, Cherise, are owed more than an apology. You were excited and celebrating a momentous occasion and my wife was rude and uncouth, in public no less. Now I have to ask if you're both open minded individuals."

Jim and Cherise looked at each other confused, but then turned back and nodded, "Yes, I think so," Jim said.

"And would you promise me you won't turn this gift down. It's an unusual gift, and I'm afraid I have to have assurances you won't turn it down once it's presented. I know that's a bit odd, but I'm old and eccentric you know," Darren said.

Cherise laughed, though Violet recognized it was forced; she was nervous. "I don't think you're that old, Mister Mallor. Sure, what the hell, I will accept your gift sight unseen."

"Excellent!" Darren said.

His foot nudged her under the table. Slowly, dreading every second, she crawled forward. Crouching for a moment on her heels, she pushed her hands forward and slid them up Cherise's thighs. Her legs slammed shut with Violet's hand in them and she grabbed Jim's hand.

"Honey?" Jim asked, worried.

"There's someone under the table," she said.

"Your gift," Darren said immediately, "Now, you did promise. And you said you were open minded."

Violet cursed at how well Darren worked. He sounded reasonable and persuasive, as if he were helping them out and doing them an amazing favor, and he sounded sincere. The fact of his enormous wealth and power wasn't even brought up, it just hung around them and in front of them soundlessly, highlighted by the building they arrived at, the room they were in, and the suit Darren wore.

"S-sure," Cherise said. Her legs relaxed and Violet continued. Her hands slid up and between her thighs, pushing the milk chocolate skin apart. After a moment she had to reach up and slide her dress up as well to expose more of them. She started kissing inside her thighs as she did this. She doubted any amount of foreplay was going to really prepare Cherise for this, but the vibrator in her own pussy combined with the not-so-thinly veiled threats from Darren before this visit made her try harder. Also as a result of that talk, she reached back and tapped Darren's shin with her foot. The vibrator stopped, denying her the orgasm that had been building up.

Cherise's dress now less in the way, she spread the girl's legs wider and saw the thin black thong at the apex. She guessed her friend had chosen it less for sexiness and more because any underwear more substantial would clearly show under the dress. Seated as she was, and after her squirming, one of her vaginal lips peeked out around it. Violet moved in and began licking and sucking that first, slowly bringing her hand up to move the underwear aside and reveal the whole of her sex. As she moved over to the other labia the vibrator kicked on and she moaned.