Mary Jenkins - The tempted tourist

"No, thanks," she replied, shaking her head at the pipe which he offered as casually as a cup of coffee.

"Oh, yes," he said. "I think you should."

There was an icy commanding tone to his innocuous words that told Jill she'd be unwise to resist. "Well, okay," she murmured, taking the ivory pipe and drawing in a lungful of acrid smoke, then another, and another. Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea after all, she decided as her fear-tensed nerves began to relax for the first time all day.

The successful sex-club proprietor stared at the young auburn-haired girl with a lewd little smile upon his lips. His plan was working just fine so far, and he had no doubts at all as to its final success. Before the night was over, he'd have a new actress, an actress whose voluptuous body coupled with her air of wholesome innocence made her far more attractive sexually than anything his competitors could possibly offer. On top of that triumph, he'd have the personal sadistic satisfaction of playing God, of corrupting this innocent student into a provocative, cynical sex star. And he'd have the additional satisfaction of teaching his old friend, Erik, a lesson.

Jensen was the sort of man who had to be first in all things, a trait that had insured his business success but which also contributed to a rather disagreeable character. Not only could he not accept life unless he was king of the mountain, he also insisted that all the people around him must share his opinions and life style. His basic insecurity and underlying doubts about his ruthless pursuit of success and pleasure compelled him to convert all those around him to his way of thinking, or if that was not possible, to somehow use his power and keen intelligence to harm his uncooperative victims. So long as people played his game, he was a good friend; but when they violated his personal rules, as Mortensen had last night, Lars Jensen had to retaliate to salve his own wounded ego.

The club manager had thought that Erik would appreciate the clever way he'd fooled this innocent young beauty into thinking that she'd broken some law so that he could blackmail her into performing for him. Up until last night, his friend had seemed as content as Lars himself about using women in any possible way to gain his own satisfaction. But when Erik hadn't seen the point of the joke or admired his cleverness, Lars had been surprised and annoyed. Mortensen had been downright unpleasant, in fact. If Erik had just been mad at his friend for interrupting before he'd managed to fuck this cute red-haired piece of ass, Lars would have understood; but Erik's obvious concern for the American girl had been too much to take.

Lars Jensen chuckled to himself now as he thought of the way he had planned to show his friend that all women were whores underneath despite whatever facade they chose to present to the world. It was all going to work so smoothly! As the hashish coursed through his body Lars congratulated himself for being so much more intelligent than anyone else he knew. Then he turned his attention to the voluptuous, half-stoned girl who was staring at him in fearful anticipation.

"Well… about our little problem…" he began, enjoying the expression of terror on her pretty face. "It's a little more serious than I realized last night."

"Oh no!" Jill whispered, knotting her hands together in her lap as she struggled to stay calm. Even the powerful effect of the hashish she had just smoked could not erase the dread that ran like an electric shock through her trembling body.

"You see, an inspector did see you. He phoned me this morning to ask what was going on in my office last night."

"Oh no!" Jill repeated, visions of prison, her destroyed career, and her horrified parents running through her reeling mind.

"Of course, I couldn't tell him what was really going on," Lars continued, drumming his fingers on the table as he spoke, "so I said that you were a new actress rehearsing for my show. But he didn't believe me, I could tell that, and I'm sure he'll be back tonight to check out my story."

"Your show?" Jill asked. Her mind didn't seem able to comprehend what he was talking about. "What show?" she said, dreading his answer.

"That's right," Lars smiled in a way that turned Jill's heart to ice. "You've never seen one of our live shows, have you? Well, I think you'll enjoy playing a star role in it, judging from your performance last night."

"What… wh-what do you mean?" the fearful student whispered.

"I think it's quite obvious what I mean. Either you are going to act in my show tonight, or else one of us is going to be arrested – and it's not going to be me. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose my license because a little slut like you was prostituting herself on my premises without my knowledge!"

"But it wasn't like that…" Jill tried to protest. This was by far surpassing her worst suspicions – she was in a situation now that she couldn't even understand, much less handle.

"It wasn't?" his voice was cold with disbelief. "Then why did you take five hundred kroner with you when you left?"

So that was the explanation for the hundred dollar "taxi fare"… oh, it was too terrible to be true. "But… but I thought it was ten kroner for the taxi!" she cried, her voice breaking as tears sprang into her green eyes.

"Well, you can tell that to the authorities, but I'm not interested in your lies," the cruel manager said, feeling more than satisfied with the success of his plan. "But I suggest that instead of involving yourself in a very messy situation with the police that you just go along with my plan. As I said before, I'm sure you'll like acting in my show anyway… and it's certainly better than jail, even if you don't enjoy yourself!"

"Jail!" Jill exclaimed. "Oh please, I'll do anything you ask… but don't let them put me in jail!" Perhaps if her mind hadn't been so clouded by the hashish she'd just smoked, Jill would have been able to see through the loopholes in Jensen's perverted plan, but as it was she implicitly accepted his words at face value. "Anything – I'll do anything, Mr. Jensen," she pleaded as tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Good! I thought you'd agree with me after I explained our little problem!" Lars smirked. "First, I want you to have another smoke, that way you'll be easier to direct in the 'play'. And stop crying – it'll spoil your looks."

"I… I never acted before," Jill said, choking back her tears and obediently inhaling the pipe he handed to her. "I don't know if I can…"

"Oh, you'll do just fine, I'm sure," the depraved sex-club manager assured her. "You look just right for the part! Now, let's get you into your costume – it's almost curtain time." He walked over to a closet hidden behind an enormous potted plant and came back holding out a skimpy three-piece outfit made of soft suede and a pair of high suede boots. "Hurry up! Try them on and see if they fit."

The drugged redhead took the garments, looking at him questioningly.

"Where… where's the dressing room?"

"Right here," he snapped. "Hurry – we don't have much time. And don't mind me – I've already seen your naked body, if you'll recall."

I can't stand this! Jill thought to herself. She'd never felt so degraded in all her life, and her whole body froze as she murmured, "No… I can't…"

"Of course you can! Or maybe you'd rather have me call the police?" he said, smiling at the shudder of horror that ran through her body again at the use of the word "police".

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, but Jill forced them back. Silently she slipped out of her navy blue skirt and then slowly lifted off her striped pullover and pantyhose. She picked up the skimpy garments, trying to figure out how they were supposed to be worn.

"Take off your bra and panties," Lars ordered. And then when she hesitated, he repeated in a louder voice, "TAKE THEM OFF!"