Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Wages of Cyn

by Jo

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© Copyright 2013 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f+; public; whores; van; drug; kidnap; strip; encase; tape; sack; transport; cons/nc; X

Part 1

I circled the block a third time. The girls were still there, strolling slowly, the taller of the two smoking a cigarette. There were others out, so I didn't make these two for cops. When the cops come out the other girls disappear. I had made eye contact with the shorter one last lap and when I slowed and pulled to the curb she walked over. I rolled down the window.

"Need a ride?"

She looked at me, sizing me up.

"You and your friend of course."

The girl nodded at her partner, pulled the passenger door open. I thumbed the button and the side door slid open. I hit the switch and the interior lights came on. The other one flicked her cigarette and stuck her head in then nodded. Both girls climbed into the van.

I asked their names and was told Maria and Lucy. Maria looked like a Latina with the typical short, thick in the waist body. Not that she was fat. Lucy, on the other hand was taller with bigger tits. Both had long black hair in ponytails. Both were dressed in denim miniskirts, matching blouses, but of different color. Heels completed their outfits.

Constantine's girls. For sure. I had to admit I liked the look. Subtle. They could just be a couple of girls out bar hopping. But they all had that signature look, a brand of sorts.

Constantine is something of a slime ball. Not as bad as some, but worse than most. That and he was trying to expand his territory. My boss and, more technically, one of her lieutenants weren't happy with either situation. Besides selling sex Constantine also peddled drugs, which was getting the attention of the police, which was putting pressure on Cyn.

Cyn ran the operation and franchised out territories. Her girls were upscale. They mostly worked conventions, sometimes private parties. Classy stuff.

"How much?"

"Depends on what you want."

"Half and half."

"Both of us?"

"Uh huh."

"100 ... each."

I pulled a roll of bills from my pocket, made a show of counting out the money, baiting the hook in a way. I handed Maria the money, she waved it at Lucy, then pushed it into her pocket.

"There's a place we-"

"Thanks, but I'll drive. No offense, but I'd prefer some place a bit more public."

I drove into a parking lot. By day it would be packed full. Now there were a smattering of cars. I picked a spot that was neither too close nor too far from the other vehicles, killed the lights, left the engine running for the AC.

Maria climbed between the seats, went into the back. I followed her and closed the privacy curtain. The van had an L-shaped couch across the back and side and a thick shag carpet. A shelf in the corner lifted to reveal the cooler. A teenage boy's dream.

I pulled out a beer, offered it to Maria.

"We, uh, we're kind of on a schedule."

"Or a quota?"

The girls shared a look, but neither said anything. I gestured with the can. Maria, no doubt recalling the wad of cash in my pocket, took it, opened it, took a sip, and handed it to Lucy. I grabbed another can.

We chatted for a couple of minutes. Where are you from? How long have you been in the US? That kind of thing. But then it came time to get down to business.

They say whores don't kiss. Well, I guess Maria didn't get the memo. She rubbed herself against me and kissed me while Lucy had her hand busy further down.

"Why don't you ladies lose the clothes."

Both of them shrugged out of their blouses, unbuttoned their skirts and let them drop.

I had to revise my opinion. Maria appeared to have the younger looking body, compact, firm, nice size, perfect cone-shaped tits. Maybe it was just her face. A hard life? Or maybe she just had a natural earthy look. Lucy, on the other hand was slim to the point of being skinny. Her tits were obviously fake. Some guys like that, but not me.

Maria unbuttoned my shirt, rubbed her perfect little tits against my bare chest, made little purring noises. Lucy pulled out my cock and bent her head to suck it. Maria soon joined her. They say there's no such thing as a bad blowjob, but they never tell you what a great blowjob is. This had all the makings of a great one.

Maria slid up my chest, nibbled my ear. "Would you like to watch us do it?"

We settled on a price and the two girls knelt on the rug. They began kissing each other, playing with each other's tits, making noises, those kind of noises, fake noises. Lucy eased Maria onto her back, turned and straddled Maria's face, bent her head.

I lifted the lid on a second compartment, pulled out the gun, loaded it, and shot Lucy in the hip.

"Ow! What the...what."

She tried to get up on her knees, but immediately keeled over, pinning Maria beneath her.

"What are you doing?!"

She grunted as she tried to push Lucy off of her. I reloaded the gun and shot her in the ass.


I killed the lights, peeked through the curtain. The lot was dark and empty. I closed the curtain, thumbed the light switch, bent, and pulled the darts. I tugged off their shoes, stuffed them into a plastic bag along with their blouses. Between the two of them they had several hundred dollars apiece which found its way into my pocket. I stuffed the skirts into the bag.

I found drugs in Lucy's cigarette pack. I don't do drugs, but Anthony does, so I tucked them into another compartment, a small hidden space behind the cushion.

I took some pictures, sent them to Cyn. In the compartment with the gun were a bottle and a stack of white handkerchiefs. I soaked the cloths and laid one over each of their faces. The drug in the dart was fast acting, but also wore off quickly. This would keep them out for the trip.

Rolling down the street I slowed at an intersection. It took a second for my brain to realize that there was a girl half way down the block and she was wearing a denim miniskirt and pastel yellow blouse. I circled the block.

We made eye contact as I rolled by. She had her blonde hair in a ponytail and it bobbed as she moved. When I came around again I slowed, rolled down the window.

"Need a ride?"

She climbed in, we settled on a price. I contemplated actually doing her given what the others had started.

I gestured over my shoulder. She moved between the seats, parted the curtain, and stopped.

I shoved her. Hard. She landed sprawled across the two naked girls. I landed on her with all my weight. There was no time to get the gun, so I grabbed the cloth bits and pressed them to her face.

The drug was nowhere near fast acting. Not like in the movies. But after a minute or so she became weaker, her struggles vague and disoriented. I dragged her to the seat, lifted the lid, retrieved the bottle, splashed some on the cloth, held on for another minute.

And then there were three.

What I was doing was illegal in so many ways: assault, kidnapping, crossing state lines, sex trafficking. But it was so much easier than the old days when I was a bounty hunter. I could bend the law, often did, but couldn't break it. Now? This was just another night's work.

Two hours later in another city in another state I pulled behind a non-descript brick building. A garage door rolled up. I drove inside.

Anthony stepped over.

"How ya doin' Craig?"

"Can't complain."

"Wouldn't do any good."


"What have you got? Three?"

I slid the side door open and we hefted the girls out one at a time. I helped while Anthony taped them up. A strip across their eyes, their wrists behind their backs, another around their chests, two more for knees and ankles, and, finally a long strip to hold their knees to their chests. A neat little package. Anthony checked his phone and tied a green tag around the girl's neck. The colors meant something, but I had no clue what. The other two got blue tags.

We propped the three of them against the wall, I climbed into the van, dug out the stash.

"Merry Christmas."

"What is it?"

"Hell if I know."

He handed me a white envelope.

"And a happy New Year."

I didn't count the money. Cyn pays well and she's never even asked about the money I take from the whores.

I climbed into the back of the van, laid down on the couch. Part of the deal is I had to make sure that the goods were undamaged and prepped for delivery. Later, Anthony tapped on the door. I slid it open.

He had gagged them. It looked like a snorkel with a stubby wide tube. There were plugs in the tubes.

One of the girls was moving... or trying to. It was Lucy.

"You gonna be sick?"

The girl was squirming, making mmfing sounds.

"Hey! Bitch! I'm talking to you. Answer me! Are you gonna be sick?"

The girl quieted, shook her head.

He turned to me. "Sometimes the drug does that."

I knew that, but Anthony has a habit of repeating old news.

He pulled out the plug, held up a bottle.

"Here. Have some water. Listen up. You're going to a new home. Same work, different boss. A better boss. Trust me, if you knew, you'd thank me."

The other two woke up and he repeated the process. After a bit of initial feistiness, they settled down.

He set a heavy canvas sack before each of them, we hefted the bound girls one by one into the sacks, cinched and secured the cord.

He backed his van over to the sacks and lifted the tailgate. Behind the rear seat was a space, room for four, which was our normal limit. We hefted the bags into the van and we drove our respective vehicles out.

At the street he tooted his horn and we went our separate ways. I dug the envelope from my pocket, tossed it on the dash with a chuckle.

"The wages of Cyn."




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