The San Francisco Seven: The Payback, Part 1

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Title: The San Francisco Seven: The Payback, Part 1

Author: Victor Field and TRL

Celebs: Troian Bellisario, Ashley Benson, Jessica Biel, Hannah Davis, Kat Dennings, Megan Fox, JoAnna Garcia, Una Healy, Megan Hilty, Vanessa Hudgens, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Victoria Justice, Alicia Keys, Blake Lively, Kate Mara, Shay Mitchell, Rhona Mitra, Rachel Nichols, Hayden Panettiere, Emma Roberts, Roselyn Sanchez, Tammin Sursok, Olivia Wilde

Codes: FF, FFF, MF, con, oral, anal, lact, exhib, fist, bond, voy

Disclaimer: Well, these aren’t the actual people, and the contents are all fictional – and it’s not intended for anyone under 18… praise or complaints to [email protected]

* * * * * * * * * *

Son of a bitch.

Tracy Spiridakos had forgotten her wallet at home – she’d been in a rush to leave because she’d gotten up late because she’d been out with her girlfriends the night before because she was celebrating her promotion…  wow, this wasn’t the best way to start the weekend.

The young woman frantically felt her pockets and rummaged through her purse as she walked the last several yards – no money, but at least she still had her driver’s license, even if her damn car was in the garage again and she’d had to ride the subway like a common… like a common person without a car. And there was her bank, so the ID would come in handy to get some money out. Man, how did her parents get by without ATM machines? Tracy had to ask them the next time she was over there.

In she went, glad at least that it was early-ish and the lines at the counters weren’t too long; she darted to the shortest one, hoping that she wouldn’t have to be in here for a while.

“Good morning,” smiled the man behind the counter five minutes later.

“Hi!” Tracy countered.

“How’s the weekend so far?” he asked.

“Oh, it could be worse,” she said casually. “You?”

“Can’t complain, ma’am. What can I do for you this morning?”

“I could do with some cash,” Tracy replied, handing him her driver’s licence and handing it over, along with the withdrawal slip she’d filled in while waiting. “Otherwise I’ve got a long weekend of nothing to do.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” the man assured her. “This’ll just take a moment…”

He started to do his work on the keyboard, while Tracy glanced around the bank just to kill time. She didn’t want to tap her feet, but the sooner she had the money in her hands the sooner the weekend could really start…

“Ma’am, there seems to be a little problem with your account.”

“What do you mean?” Tracy asked. “I got paid yesterday – there should be enough in there, c’mon.”

“Well, according to this… your account’s empty.”

Tracy’s heart almost stopped; she shook her head as she stared at him. “Wh…. What?! That’s impossible! I’ve got like $7000 in there, I checked last night and it was there and now you’re telling me it’s gone?!”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am,” the man said sympathetically.

“No,” the young woman said hastily and disbelievingly. “No, that can’t be. Show me the screen.”

“Brace yourself,” he said as he swivelled the screen to face her. Tracy read the information on it, her eyes resting on the telling figure on the far right: 0.00.

“If you’ll take a seat one of our customer services personnel will see you in a few moments, and we’ll try and sort this out,” he continued, as Tracy’s eyes began to swim. This couldn’t be happening…  it just couldn’t.

“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” she moaned.

She didn’t wake up.

* * * * * * * * *

The women spent most of their first day as escapees asleep.

Megan had driven as long as she could before the adrenaline ran dry; they managed to get the van off the road and hidden before getting some rest, which was easier for some of them than others. But each one of them was slumbering as the world continued around them.

And above them, as a helicopter skimmed through the sky in the opposite direction…

“Seriously, is this a fucking joke?” asked Kristen Bell to no one in particular as the helicopter started its descent to the Remy Hadley courtyard. “Seven women bust out of here and no one manages to spot them? I mean, one I can understand but SEVEN?! What are they, invisible?”

“They must have some people helping them out,” Tammin Sursok mused in the seat opposite the pilot as she felt relief the flight was over – as hot as Kristen was, the moment she’d heard the San Francisco Eight… all right, the San Francisco Seven… had broken out of Remy Hadley the bitching and moaning had started. It hadn’t stopped on the way to their quickly arranged jet at LAX, it hadn’t stopped as they flew to Paradise and transferred to the chopper, and it wasn’t stopping now… Kristen probably did it in her sleep.

“Outside help? You worked that out by yourself? Well done, BJ!” Beverley Mitchell sarcastically clapped behind her as the helicopter landed.

Not for the first time, Tammin had mixed feelings over where she was sitting – on the one hand, she hadn’t had to sit right next to Teacher’s Pet Mitchell (she couldn’t bring herself to call her “Agent Mitchell” even mentally). On the other hand, she’d been tempted many, many times to kick Beverley out during the flight, and if there was any way at all she could have made it look like an accident she would have. At least she had someone in her corner now, someone she could unload to after hours who’d help it all go away for a while.

At least Tammin had Victoria Justice.

“All that time in LA getting less than nowhere at Spectacular – someone should sue that place for false advertising – and now we’ve got to talk to some meathead guards…” Kristen’s grumbling soundtracked the helicopter touching down.

“Welcome to Remy Hadley,” said Tom, the guard who was waiting by the landing spot.

“Hi!” Kristen smiled to the meathead, brandishing her ID just in case he thought they were flying Avon Ladies. “I’m Agent Bell, my friend is Agent Mitchell, and the one in front is Agent Sursok.”

“Three of you?” he asked.

“We all worked on the case back in San Fran,” Beverley explained, ignoring the brief but blazing glare Tammin gave her. “This breakout made us all look bad.”

“We’ve been taking a lot of heat about this too,” he confided as he escorted the three agents to the entrance, with two more guards standing by the helicopter just in case any of the convicts working outside got any ideas. “Especially since they attacked one of the guards getting out.”

“Oh yeah, I read the report – Scarlett Johansson, right?” Tammin said. “I hear she’s popular with the prisoners.”

“She certainly is, ma’am,” Tom agreed. “Several of them had sex with Scarlett during the escape.”

“During?!” all three Feds echoed in surprise.

“Yes, apparently that was part of their plan…”

“I thought that was made up!” Beverley laughed.

“Believe me, ma’am, everything you’ve heard about this place is true.”

Tom chuckled, but Tammin was still thinking about the other thing he’d just said. So a bunch of the San Fran Eight had gang-banged Scarlett in full view of the other prisoners, and she’d ended up at death’s door… but she’d been found in the guards’ quarters, far away from the route the gang had taken. She couldn’t have crawled all the way there from anywhere the escapees could have been in that condition. No way. And if they’d wanted to beat the woman to a pulp, why didn’t they just do it right there on the catwalk? She may have been a popular guard, but she was still a guard.

Even though it was a beautiful breezy morning, Tammin Sursok was smelling something nasty in the air.

* * * * * * * * * *

If there was one thing the current warden at Remy Hadley and her predecessor had in common, it was an appreciation for pairing up kittens and cougars.

When Alyssa Milano had given the go-ahead for the old cells to become playhouses for the guards, she had made one condition; she wanted to choose who the women to break it in would be (“Don’t worry, it’ll just be a one-time thing”). And thus Susan Sarandon and Taylor Swift became the first convicts to be banged, first by each other and then by the guards in attendance. That was also the first time proceedings had been filmed, as had all the assignations in there since. Including the time Warden Milano herself had made lifer Shannen Doherty her bitch.

Much as Kate Winslet had wished Alyssa hadn’t taken that particular video with her when she left, she had her own favourites. Like the one she and the agents were watching in her office; it had everything. Sex – all right, foreplay – and violence, plus Blake Lively naked. Kate, Tammin, Kristen and Beverley kept going back and forth between the gorgeous nude Blake tied up and the battle between Hayden Panettiere and Jaime Pressly, right up to when the victorious Hayden and the saved Blake left with the others.

“Whoa,” Kristen said, impressed.

“That’s what I thought as well,” Kate admitted.

“Man, I would *not* want to get between her and Lively,” Beverley added.

“I would,” said Tammin, Kristen and Kate as one, all with big grins.

“Anyway,” the warden continued, switching off the screen, “Miss Pressly used the panelling in that area to try and escape… and you know how that fared for her.”

“And Jennifer Lawrence,” Kristen added. “But why weren’t the guards sent straight to that cell once someone got there after lights out?”

“We’re not mindreaders, Agent Bell,” said the warden. “If we had known this was coming, we would have stopped it.”

“So they went there and then to the other block – and they managed to get a keycard just like that?” asked Tammin.

“It might have been one of the guards. Probably Johansson,” Kate suggested.

“That would make sense,” Beverley agreed. “Sweet-talked her into helping them out, then beat the shit out of her to keep her from selling them out.”

“But it was still a little too easy…” Tammin said thoughtfully. “I can see them researching the layout, but who got them all the stuff they needed inside? And we know you had Grace Park in here all the time like she was a consultant or—“

“I don’t like what you’re implying, Agent Sursok,” Kate told her stiffly. “Of course there are a few rotten apples in any barrel, but Remy Hadley is hardly a den of corruption. They got out despite our best efforts, and my head guard nearly lost her life in the process – your job is to get them back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Yeah,” Tammin sighed as she and the others got up. “So do we.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“So heads I talk to Johansson, tails you do,” Beverley said to Tammin.

“Deal,” Agent Sursok replied. “But you’re using MY coin.”

“Whatever,” Beverley grumbled, accepting Tammin’s dime and flipping it.

As the coin made its choice, the door opened and a lovely but cross face emerged. Freema Agyeman was in charge of Remy Hadley’s medical facility, and she did not like official visitors; her patients may have been convicts (plus guards), but they were patients.

“Cate Blanchett and Jennifer Lawrence are still comatose, but the others are awake,” she said without a hint of a hello.

“We’re just glad we might still have a chance to ask them what happened,” Tammin replied as the agents entered.

“Start with Jaime Pressly, then hit up Scarlett Johansson-WHAT?” Kristen asked, seeing the shocked looks Tammin and Dr. Agyeman gave her. “It’s just an expression.”

“Yeah, it’s not like we did it,” Beverley backed her up.

“Wrap up with Grace Park,” Kristen told the good doctor. “We won’t take up much of your time.”

“You shouldn’t take up any of it at all,” Dr. Agyeman replied.  “This way.”

This way led the three by a row of infirmary beds; there was rarely a time when the entire ward was empty, but there was rarely a time when the entire ward was occupied. Sarah Shahi and Kristen Stewart were asleep (and in restraints, in Stewart’s case), but it was the pair of Cate Blanchett and Jennifer Lawrence that caught Tammin’s eye. Both were in adjoining beds, connected to the machines that kept track of their every heartbeat; their bodies had been medically dressed, but the two of them had needed enough blood to make a vampire go “I’m good, thanks.” Several of the bullets the head guard had taken had shot clean through her body, but they’d still dug enough out of her to make a necklace; and Jennifer’s battered, scratched face was only the tip of the iceberg (the sewn-up wounds in her back, the smashed ribcage and other internal injuries when she’d hit the ledge a hundred feet down the mountainside with Jaime slamming onto her as SHE landed…).

Tammin patted one of Jennifer’s hands in passing as they got to Jaime Pressly, who glared at them through her oxygen mask. Her face was covered with stitched-up cuts, both her legs were in plaster, and had her gown been open the agents would have seen more bandages around her chest.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry for you,” the agent told the patient.

“Bite me, Fed,” Jaime muttered through her remaining teeth.

“Jaime Pressly of the Black Panty Gang,” Kristen said. “Just wasn’t your night, huh? First you get the crap beaten out of you by a dwarf, then you fall off a mountain. Aren’t you lucky you had Jenny Lawrence there to land on.”

“I ain’t talking to you,” the bedridden blonde replied.

“Why’d you turn on them?” Tammin asked. “Trying to get rid of Blake Lively and Jennifer like that – whatever happened to honour among thieves?”

“I said I ain’t talking to you,” Jaime grunted. “You can’t give me nothin’ ‘cause I’m never getting outta here.”

“It could be easier for you around here if you just tell us where they’re  going,” Beverley told her. “You had this all mapped out, you had to have an endgame.”

“Tell you what,” Jaime grimaced; even the morphine drip could only ease the pain so much. “One of you chops off the heads of the other two right here, right now, and I’ll talk.”

From Tammin’s POV Beverley’s head on a platter sounded like a good deal, but…

“Get worse soon, Pressly,” she hissed.

“You bring my girls back, hear?” Jaime called as strongly as she could. “I got unfinished business.”

The group studied Scarlett Johansson, lying a couple of beds down. Her face and what they could see of her body was covered with broken, puffed-up skin; Kristen shook her head. They’d really gone to town on this one.

Tammin noticed Scarlett’s eyes were watching them even more intently than Jaime, and her lips were trembling; almost like she had something she wanted to say to them, and had to get it out before she was too drained to say anything.

“Scarlett?” Beverley asked tenderly, leaning in towards the patient and willing herself not to be distracted by the effects of the beating.

“…not…”

“We’ll get them,” she told the guard. “I promise those prisoners will pay for what they did to you.”

Scarlett’s mind processed what Beverley was saying. The prisoners? No – they’d knocked her out but that was all… whatever else they’d done, they hadn’t done this. Scarlett struggled to get out what she had to say, but she was so tired… and she was so beaten…

“…wasn’t…” she whispered.

“Yes?” Beverley asked, leaning in closer.

“C’mon, BJ – let’s have a word with Gracie…” Kristen suggested, as she and Tammin withdrew.

“What is it, Scarlett?” asked the other agent. “Which ones did this?”

“…not… prisoners…” Scarlett breathed painfully.

“Huh?”

“…was… “ The guard paused to get some breath. “…was…Blanchett…”

“You mean…?” Beverley said, surprised.

Scarlett nodded as much as she could. “…Blanchett… beat me… tried… kill… Summer…  “

The agent returned the nod and rested a hand on Scarlett’s arm.

“…Cate… psycho… she did… this….” Scarlett sighed and closed her eyes. She was asleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

“The patient isn’t exactly in the best condition for this,” Dr. Agyeman informed Kristen sternly.

Agent Bell raised an eyebrow to that. “She was more than willing to consult with the warden during the escape, Doctor. If she can talk, I’ll talk with her.”

“Suit yourself, but I’m not leaving the room,” Freema said, matching Kristen’s expression. For some reason, Bell found the stubborn doctor incredibly hot in that moment. Under other circumstances…

“I’ll wait outside,” Tammin said, in a bid to not antagonise the doctor any further, and moved away.

“Grace Park, computer hacker, and illustrious member of the San Francisco Eight,” Kristen said, moving past Agyeman and towards her patient.

“Nice to be known, I guess,” Grace muttered through the oxygen mask over her mouth. One eye was completely swollen shut, the other was black and blue, matching a number of bruises up and down her arms and legs. A little over 12 hours ago, maybe 13, Grace had been beaten to a pulp by her former partners in crime just prior to their successful escape from Remy Hadley. An escape Grace had helped plan and execute.

“Here’s what I don’t get, Grace – you fully admit you helped plant a computer virus that let your little group escape from this joint. So what’d you do to piss them off and make them leave you behind?” Kristen asked.

“I made one too many passes at the straight blonde,” Grace mumbled between split lips.

“They left you behind, Park – why are you protecting them?”

“You’re going to find them. They’ll be back,” the prisoner said.

“True, true,” Kristen said, pacing around Park’s bed. “But then, you won’t, will you?”

“Huh?”

“Your file contains an interesting little piece of information you might not have heard yet, Park. You’re getting transferred. To the Valerii Kalakaua minimum security prison in Hawaii.”

“First I’m hearing of it,” Grace muttered.

“Really? Funny, how your transfer date was listed as tomorrow, exactly two days after the rest of your crew had planned on escaping.”

“Like I said, I don’t know anything about that.”

“You really didn’t know ANYTHING about a transfer from this place to what’s essentially a resort for criminals in Hawaii? A smart girl like you, Grace?” Kristen scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No one’s asking you to believe it. It just is.”

“Yeah, well, I think there’s something else going on here. I don’t know what, and I don’t know who’s behind it, but things are a little too sketchy here at Remy Hadley, and I find it very suspicious that you, the warden, even that bitch Jaime Pressly won’t talk to us. Why do you suppose that is?”

“We all hate pigs?” Grace said.

“Oh, that’s just nice. Insulting a Federal Officer while your transfer to your Hawaiian vacation hasn’t quite been approved yet.” Kristen leaned in and glared into Grace’s one open eye. “Best be careful, Grace, or I’ll have you stuck here in Remy Hadley for your connection to this prison break until the rest of your San Fran Eight girls are thrown back in here. I’m sure they’ll be so happy to know you stuck around to consult with us.”

“I think that’s about enough, Agent Bell,” Doctor Agyeman said, stepping forward. “The patient needs rest.”

“That’s okay, I’m done. For now,” Kristen muttered. “I wouldn’t bother stocking up on suntan oil just yet, Grace. You aren’t going anywhere until I say you can.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Did you get anything from the guard?” Tammin asked as the three agents headed to the helicopter.

“Johansson didn’t stay awake long,” Beverley replied, “but she was up long enough to confirm it was one of the San Fran 8 who took her out.”

“So now we got attempted murder on the pile? Which one?” asked Kristen.

“She conked out before she could say, but we know Shay Mitchell and Emma Roberts took two of the nightsticks, and Roberts was one of the group that fucked Johansson.”

“Emma Roberts doesn’t look like a killer,” Tammin mused.

“She killed Fontana Maxwell,” Beverley pointed out.

“Too bad Shahi and Stewart were asleep,” Tammin continued, nodding at what Beverley said. “I’d love to know how they just happened to turn up where the gang was.”

“With you on that one, BJ,” Kristen agreed as they got into the helicopter. “I think we might have to look into our friend the warden.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Their friend the warden was doing some looking of her own, at some reports. She still had more meetings about this… this clusterfuck to handle, but she still had the end of the day to look forward to when she could finally get some home time, and maybe have the rest of the weekend  to herself and her husband and kids. Just relaxing, taking her mind off the worst few days of her career and reflect that it was all out of her hands…

“Warden?” Maggie’s voice said from the intercom.

Kate shook her head. “Go ahead.”

“There’s a woman out here to see you.”

“Send her in,” the warden said resignedly. Might as well get this over with.

The door opened, and a woman who was not a member of any law enforcement agency or government body walked in. She had an impressive body of her own covered in pale creamy skin and topped with oceans of wavy red hair, and she had a twinkle in her eye that Kate would have welcomed – had it belonged to anyone but the current visitor.

“What are you DOING here?!” the warden managed to keep from shouting at Julianne Moore the second the door closed.

“Can’t I drop by and see an old friend?” the redhead smiled, leaning in. “Now come on, lighten up… it’s not a booty call anyway. It could’ve been; you know the arrangement.”

Kate *did* know the arrangement. Julianne could – and did – turn up for sex anytime she wanted, and Kate had no option but to go along with it; it was one of the little conditions Rhona Mitra had made, thanks to Julianne having done Kate a few favours. Like meeting Nigella Lawson the last time she was in San Francisco, for instance. Oh, and getting rid of the only person who knew how the other candidate to take over Remy Hadley had been dropped from contention (and off a bridge). Not that Kate minded sleeping with women, but she liked to pick the time and place; at least she wouldn’t have had to do it while her husband and kids were at home. Again.

“I just came by to drop off a message,” Julianne continued. “Wow, you’ve gotten some nice stuff in since last time – great carpet…”

“There are such things as phones, you know,” Kate said stiffly.

“I like the personal touch. And Rhona says this whole Remy Hadley thing can get really personal. For you, if this doesn’t end well,” Julianne added. “You could resign if they don’t get caught, and keep some shame – but that wouldn’t cover your homelife.”

“She wouldn’t.”

“Don’t come all daytime soap with me, Kate,” the visitor said. “You really want your guy to find out about what you get up to at work? Or about how Rhona’s friend Nigella gave us more than an autograph? I don’t think he’d be happy to hear about while he was looking at her tits you actually got to lick them…”

“Tell Rhona everything’ll be fine,” Kate said, going pale. “As soon as Scarlett Johansson is well enough to leave hospital, she’ll return to the prison.”

“Sending her straight back to work?”

“No, she’ll be a prisoner. I am not going to be going down for – NOT A WORD,” she snapped, seeing Julianne’s mouth about to open. “There is enough circumstantial evidence to point towards the lovely Miss Johansson having been talked into helping them out; I believe we have ourselves a scapegoat.”

“Too bad she wasn’t beaten by Blanchett hard enough.”

“You mean the prisoners,” Kate corrected her with a knowing smile.

“Oh yeah, of course I do,” Julianne lied, smiling back.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I’m sorry, she’s in a meeting,” Maggie told Jessica Alba.

The guard nodded. “Those are the breaks – it’ll keep…”

As Jessica left the warden’s office, she cursed herself. What she had to say could NOT keep; and now those Feds had left Remy Hadley. Jessica had tried to reach them, but she’d had to mediate in (yet) a(nother) fight between Mila Kunis and Selena Gomez, and by the time the two spitting brunettes had been separated the agents had gone.

But it was a couple of hours until she clocked out, and as soon as she was off the premises she was going to make a couple of calls. She hadn’t forgotten hearing Cate Blanchett almost beating Scarlett Johansson to death; what had subsequently happened in the tunnel may have been what she deserved, but that had been an accident.

If the other guards weren’t about to give Blanchett up, Jessica would.

* * * * * * * * * *

The following Saturday, a small car drove up to an apartment building situated just outside the south of San Francisco. It was early in the morning, but even if it had been high noon hardly anyone would have been panting to get into the five-story complex; it was shuttered and empty, and other than graffiti artists few gave the place the time of day.

The car pulled around to the back and came to a stop, and had any of the local artists been around to decorate the walls they would have seen two women climb out – the driver, a beautiful woman with chestnut hair in her early 30s; and the one going to unlock the back of the car, an equally good-looking brunette in her mid-20s.

“Relax, no one’s following us,” Troian Bellisario assured her friend, taking out some bags.

“I know….” JoAnna Garcia replied. “It’s just so… so weird.”

“Not the word I’d have chosen,” said Troian. “Just wish they’d found a place a little closer.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about Jason,” the redhead confided. “I always think I’ll slip up one day.”

“That reminds me, when’s the big day?”

“We’re thinking the summer.”

“I don’t suppose Shay Mitchell’ll be the maid of honour?”

JoAnna’s beautiful face went several shades of red at once as the two entered the building. If there was one thing about this whole affair she wished she could take back, it was what had happened when Troian had gotten her over here the first time – she hadn’t seen any of them since the trial, and she’d tried to avoid looking them in the eye back then. But when she’d come into the ground-floor apartment that the gang had taken over (their injuries meant going for higher levels wasn’t a wise move), they’d greeted her with open arms and no hard feelings; Shay had warmly hugged JoAnna on seeing her, and given her a kiss.

But not the kind friends gave; more like the kind Troian gave Hayden the moment they reunited. JoAnna had immediately kissed Shay as passionately, the way she usually only kissed Jason. And they’d all noticed it.

“Should we let you two have some alone time?” Emma had joked.

“Next time,” Shay had whispered quickly so only JoAnna could hear, and without thinking she’d nodded in agreement.

And she almost wished she hadn’t; one of the more harmless but still embarrassing side effects of the whole business had been some bastions of the media running with the “hot all-female gang of lesbians” angle. It wasn’t just journalists, either; to Jason’s credit, he had refused to have “The San Francisco Eight: A XXX Parody” in the house. But out of curiosity she’d looked up the information online, and was amused to see that the JoAnna in this scenario had had time to bang all the robbers plus the other hostages; she almost envied that Allison Moore her lack of inhibitions.

The movie had ended with a massive gang-bang in prison, but Vivid would have been disappointed to see that nothing of the sort was going on when JoAnna and Troian entered the hideout. The only things that was going on, in fact, were Roselyn Sanchez reading one of the magazines that had been brought over last time, Olivia Wilde and Megan Fox playing hearts, and scrambled eggs being made; the building itself had had no electricity, but Megan had managed to sort out enough of the wiring to get the place, or at least their apartment, back on the grid and spare them from showers and food of the cold variety.

“Hi, guys!” Blake Lively called from the kitchen area. “Right on time…”

“Since when does the princess cook?” Troian asked, lugging the supplies over.

“Since I was 7,” the blonde replied. “Guys love that.”

“Your mom taught you that?” asked JoAnna.

“My DAD taught me that – I was always daddy’s girl.”

“Colour me shocked,” Olivia muttered.

“Remy Hadley’s guards knew what they were doing,” Megan added to Troian. “Your girlfriend and the boss lady are the only others of us who don’t suck in the kitchen and, well…”

“How’s the penicillin holding out?” Troian asked.

“Not great,” Roselyn admitted.  “We’re about to run out – the arm’s getting a little more numb each day.”

At that moment, two or three loud sneezes burst through from elsewhere in the apartment.

“Guess we don’t have to ask about Emma…” JoAnna said, looking towards the closed door behind which lay Emma Roberts. Running around the Sierra Nevada mountains late at night in the rain completely naked was not the way to avoid risking a cold; even though she had dried herself off in the E-Van afterwards with help from some of their uniforms, a bug had still gotten into her system. The first sniffles and coughs had struck not long after arriving, and the following morning she’d developed a seriously bad cold that meant Emma spent all her time in here away from the others, except when they brought her food and medicine. But now she was getting worse, and the coughs were keeping them awake at night.

“Time to sort this out with baby girl,” Troian said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Baby girl, also known as Hayden Panettiere, was also still in bed and moving around slowly, savouring every little touch of Shay Mitchell’s tongue between her legs.

The small blonde was completely naked except for her right arm, which was wrapped in the bandages Troian had brought with her on their second visit. She was no Florence Nightingale but it did the job, though Hayden had to keep it out of action – and she really regretted it at times like this. She was good with her left hand, but she wasn’t a southpaw, and she wished she could be stroking Shay’s head with both hands instead of one.

Shay had both hands free, and she was using them to caress Hayden’s beautiful body from the thighs to the chest as her mouth tasted Miss Panettiere’s tight tiny box.  Her tongue was traversing Hayden’s plump little pussy lips and the heavenly delight between them like she was painting a masterpiece, taking her time and doing it right.

“Mmmm… don’t get this with Medicare…” Hayden moaned as she felt Shay’s fingers spreading onto her stomach, touching the piercing in her navel and moving on up to her breasts. Shay kept on licking inside the blonde, not letting up for a second as her fingers fondled Hayden’s rack (and unintentionally reminded her that she wanted to look into getting something extra up there – not that anyone she’d ever been with had complained, but… well…).  She could feel herself soaking Miss Mitchell’s mouth, and wanted to tell her not to stop as Shay moved back to kiss the insides of Hayden’s thighs before sliding up the blonde, her pussy tingling and begging for more; as if reading her mind, Shay slipped one of her hands between her lover’s legs.

“Like I’d leave that alone,” she smiled. “Or what’s on the other side.”

“You’re not so bad yourself back there,” Hayden sighed, patting Shay’s rump with her good hand as she focused on the woman’s breasts coming closer to her. Shay Mitchell’s body was long, dusky and so warm… if Emma Roberts hadn’t been sick as a dog Hayden would have laid money on the two of them sleeping in the same room every night. But Emma’s loss was Hayden’s gain; as soon as those excellent tits were within reach the blonde leaned forward and, smiling up at Shay en route, gave each breast a tender kiss, lightly suckling the nipples. Mmmmm, you’d think they would melt in the mouth because they were so sweet.

Shay gently took Hayden into her arms, holding her there as the blonde curled up against her chest and licked each mammary. “Emma’s so lucky,” she breathed, gazing up at her lover.

“Troian’s so lucky,” Shay replied, kissing the top of Hayden’s head.

“Could you do me a favour?” Hayden asked. “Since I’m not going to be going anywhere today…” She patted one of Shay’s arms. “That. I want it up me.”

“Which end?”

“Well… surprise me.” The tiny blonde disengaged herself and lay face down with her lower half pointing upwards, spreading her legs wide and giving Shay a clear view of both her holes.  It was a hard choice – that lovely, sweet little snatch open and waiting, or the small winking back door positioned above it.

“Wish I could do both,” Shay sighed.

“What’s stopping you?” asked Hayden, looking behind her and winking.

Shay covered her right hand with lotion, lathering it up to the elbow and making it as slippery as possible. Then, pausing to kiss Hayden’s ass on both cheeks, she put her knees on the floor and leaned forward with both hands clenched, the oiled one touching the blonde’s butt and the untouched one on her cunt. Shay’s knuckles were tickling each orifice as Hayden shivered in anticipation.

With her fists tightened as much as she could make them, Shay slowly started to turn the right one from side to side with the middle knuckle serving as the tip to core into Hayden’s asshole. The blonde’s little sighs began to rise as she felt each tiny turn, with every move opening her rear entrance a little more, stretching it like she was being fucked by a giant.

“Uhhhh…. oooh…. deeper…” Hayden gasped.

Shay moved her right fist further in and then slid it back a couple of millimetres before edging forward. She kept up the pace of a little further forward then a bit less back, watching as more and more of her hand went into the blonde’s back door – she was genuinely surprised that Hayden’s anal ring soon had all of Shay’s hand clasped in it, all the way up to the wrist. And now Hayden was slowly moving her ass around while Shay moved the fist, letting out sighs and groans as it now went in above the wrist.

“Both hands….” Hayden panted, feeling Shay’s left fist lingered over her open, dripping pussy. Until now it had been left unattended, mainly because Shay was hesitating – the girl was so tiny, and she was already getting over one injury. Never mind Troian never forgiving her if this wound up hurting Hayden, Shay didn’t feel she’d ever forgive HERSELF…

“Do I look… like a damn… virgin?” the blonde managed to get out in between sighs. “Just slip it in… I can take it…”

Shay’s long, slim other arm began its journey inside Hayden Panettiere’s pussy as delicately as its counterpart. This time it was Shay’s turn to sigh – Hayden’s body temperature was definitely higher inside there, and it was so fucking snug…  it was like sinking into silk. Her hand pushed in and out of the blonde, moving slowly but settling into a rhythm with the other fist; when the one that was up Hayden’s crotch moved back, the one inside her asshole went forward, and vice versa. Back and forth… back and forth… back and forth… she couldn’t decide which one felt nicer.

And neither could Hayden, holding the bedsheets tight as she gyrated back around Shay’s fists. It had hurt the first time it had happened, but her lover then had done it as gently as possible and she had begged for more the next time; not being able to walk was a small price to pay. With the forearms pushing their paths inside her, she was being virtually split open but what a way to go.

“OHHHH FUCCCCCKKKK YESSS!!!! YES SHAY!!! FUCK ME LIKE A FUCKING BEAST!!!” the blonde howled, quaking as Shay’s arms cored as deep and as fast as they could inside her. The area around her waist was on fire, and Hayden felt the perfect mix of pain and joy as she started to erupt inside – even her busted arm was forgotten in the bliss. “DON’T STOP!!! PUSH DAMMIT!!! DO IT HARDER!!!”

Shay didn’t want to go any faster, and she couldn’t have even if she wanted, but the juices flowing inside the blonde’s box were making it easier for her in there – as she pumped Hayden in each hole and felt her starting to give in more with each thrust, Hayden’s screams of delight almost distracted Shay from what happened next.

“YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Hayden yelled upwards, shoving her body back as the joy shot through her system, succumbing to Shay’s hands – right when Shay herself felt a hand patting her own asscheeks and a pair of lips kissing the valley in between, the tongue flicking lightly there before the mouth left, although the hand remained, stroking and squeezing the flesh.

Shay knew those fingers; as her forearms began their delicate journeys out of Hayden Panettiere’s not-so-private parts, the gorgeous lass looked back over her shoulder and smiled up at JoAnna Garcia as if she’d been walked in on while making some toast. The redhead beamed back, her non-Mitchell-ass-fondling-hand holding the cellphone she’d just used to snap a shot of Shay in action.

“That looks painful,” JoAnna said, watching Shay remove her hands from Hayden as the blonde sank onto the mattress with a contented sigh, her legs still spread.

“It is the first time,” Troian Bellisario agreed, before she headed over to the head of the bed to kiss her coming-down girlfriend. “But it’s amazing what the human body can take.”

“How about a couple more shots for little me, Butter?” JoAnna asked Shay as she got off her knees, before they kissed. “Just so I can remember when you’re out of the country.”

“How long were you two there?” Hayden asked Troian as her lover knelt down to kiss her.

“Long enough,” the brunette replied. “If we’d gotten here ten minutes sooner we might have joined in.”

“YOU might have joined in, you mean,” JoAnna corrected, as Shay posed for her ‘camera.’ “My guy thinks Hayden’s cute – or he thought she was until she got arrested – but I’m a one… woman… woman. Great shot…”

Shay hefted her rack for the cellphone as it clicked, before JoAnna got one of her nude from top to toe, and another from behind. “Want me to spread this for you?” she asked casually.

“After the way you were kneeling back there?” the redhead laughed. “I already got that.”

“After all the pictures you sent me of you, time I returned the favour anyway,” Shay told her. “You got me through a lot of nights back in Remy Hadley.”

“I’d have thought your cellmate-“ JoAnna started.

“Blake,” Shay and Hayden interrupted.

“Oh.”

“You know, just before you broke out I had a really weird sex dream,” Troian told Shay. “I was banging you, that schoolteacher you guys took, and Ashley Benson.”

“WHY?!?” asked Hayden.

“It felt kind of… right somehow,” Troian said. “I don’t know why.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Shay told her. “Hayden could be Ashley and stay out of it…”

“Thanks a lot,” the ex-reporter said wryly.

“JoAnna could be Lucy…”

“No chance,” the redhead replied. “But I’d like to watch…”

Even though JoAnna had loosened up considerably ever since Shay had awakened something in her – to Jason’s benefit – this still came as a surprise to them. Maybe she could be tempted to join in sometime, but still… Shay and Troian grinned at each other while Hayden gingerly turned herself over and offered her better hand to JoAnna.

“Want me to give you a little finger fun during the main event?” the blonde asked.

“I’ve got ten of my own, thank you very much,” JoAnna told her.

“Oh, please…” the invalid pouted, wriggling her better hand’s fingers. “Mine won’t recover from Shay for like HOURS and-“

“I’m good,” JoAnna interrupted. “But I’ll help you out… c’mon.”

Hayden did, in fact, need some help from JoAnna to get herself in better viewing position – Shay Mitchell and Troian Bellisario were on their knees on the floor, the latter having managed to undress in record time (how did she DO that?) and both fondling the other’s chests. Troian just had to lick her lips a little on feeling Shay’s rack, while Shay’s sloe eyes were going all over Troian’s body with particular interest in what was between her legs.

“Wow,” Troian said. “Your hands feel great.”

“Well, you saw where they just were…” Shay smiled.

“Yes, we did,” JoAnna whispered, sounding a little distasteful.

“Hey, if it was up *that* I wouldn’t moan,” Hayden laughed, pointing to JoAnna Garcia’s ass. “Shay tried it on you?”

“Not yet…  no. I mean no.”

Troian kissed Shay’s breasts, her tongue enjoying the con’s nipples as her fingers moved along Shay’s silken smooth skin. She had to admit there was a little thrill attached here; it was the first time she’d ever fucked a convicted felon… one that deserved to be locked up, anyway. But if it had been down to her, she’d have left them all in jail except baby girl. Even if Shay did have a wonderful way of fondling Troian’s head as it moved down onto Miss Mitchell’s stomach, the tongue dipping into her navel before Shay gently pushed the head down between her legs.

When Troian had started to research Remy Hadley’s layout, she had planned to get Hayden out and ONLY Hayden out, but she’d known from the beginning that she’d need some help. That was when she and JoAnna Garcia had gotten together; as the only other hostage she felt might be open to helping her, she figured it couldn’t hurt to approach the then-bank teller. Meeting at Troian’s place, JoAnna had agreed to be her co-conspirator… but she said they’d have to break Shay out as well, and that meant they’d all have to come out. (That was what had made Troian suspect the rumours about JoAnna growing to really, really like Shay Mitchell were more than just rumours, and a little gentle prodding had gotten the redhead to admit that they were true… she hadn’t told anyone before. Not even Lucy Hale, who had admitted she’d been drawn to Megan Fox but couldn’t wait – apparently in this case, JoAnna could.) It wasn’t something Troian had planned on, but that was the way it had to be.

Still, it wasn’t like any of them were a pain to be with or look at. Or taste – Troian had her mouth against Shay’s snatch, licking the slit and the button on it. She was a fast worker when she wanted to be, knowing which spots inside her sex target to dab for the best effect, although she’d have preferred to deal with Shay for hours. Damn the princess almost finishing breakfast; the smell coming from the kitchen wasn’t as nice as the one she was enjoying emanating from Shay Mitchell’s pussy, but it made for a promising second course. Troian munched on Shay eagerly, burrowing inside her and relishing how warm she was inside; pity Emma was too ill to enjoy this.

Shay had her eyes closed and her hands fondling her own breasts, showing she was certainly enjoying Troian’s lips; her moans were mixing with JoAnna’s, demonstrating to Hayden that she did have fingers of her own and knew how to use them. Five of them were inside the opened zipper of her jeans, the other half were getting a few shots of the ladies in action on her phone.

“Beats ‘Penthouse Variations’ all to hell, doesn’t it?” Hayden smiled, studying Troian’s body as she moved on the floor. “And all real.”

“C’mon, JoAnna…” Shay gasped. “You know you want to…”

“I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I might slip…”

“Huh?” asked Hayden, her eyes taking in Troian as she slid back up Shay’s body and wrapped her in an embrace, Troian’s pussy placed against Shay’s heated snatch as the dusky woman clutched her lover tightly. The two kissed fiercely, their hips grinding against each other as Shay pressed herself onto Troian, as if she wanted to share the orgasm she was about to have.

“That night we met to talk over getting you guys out… your girlfriend…” JoAnna hesitated.

“She came on to you?” asked Hayden gently.

“Yeah,” JoAnna replied quietly, even more quietly as the cries from Shay and Troian increased, their bodies shaking as they fondled and rubbed each other. “She said she was lonely without you – it didn’t get any further than a kiss before I shut it down.”

“I’m watching my girl fuck a woman I spent six months in prison with and not screaming my head off,” Hayden pointed out.  “Did you really think a kiss would hurt? We’re open – we fuck who we want but we only love each other.”

“I’m still kind of loyal,” JoAnna admitted.  “You’re all pretty goodlooking if you like that kind of thing…” A particularly loud scream from Shay interrupted them, as the woman bucked against Troian, letting her delight course through the two of them.

“…but Shay’s the only girl for me,” JoAnna finished.

“What about Jason?”

Hayden had brought up something JoAnna really didn’t want to think about. Jason thought that Shay had taken advantage of his fiancée and she’d let him think that, but it was getting harder and harder to keep Shay Mitchell’s beautiful face out of her mind whenever they had sex. Last week she’d succeeded, and Jason had told her afterwards that everybody had a bad night in the sack from time to time and not to let it bother her; but it did.

Especially since it was the first time she’d had unfulfilling sex with him since… since ever. JoAnna buried that in the back of her mind and put a smile back on her face.

“She went further than me,” Hayden admitted. “There’s only one member of the gang I’ve never slept with… can’t even make a pass at her. Enemy territory.”

Right on cue, the door opened enough for Blake Lively’s sunkissed head to poke through with a big smile, which dimmed only a bit on seeing what was happening.

“I was going to tell you to come, but…” Blake said, a little sheepishly.

* * * * * * * * * *

The apartment did not come with a table, so eight of them sat or stood around the front room putting back their toast, scrambled eggs and bacon – Emma usually ate by herself to keep from spreading her cold, but they had business to attend to meaning they all had to be together, so she was in the same room but not sitting or standing with the others.

“So how’d it go with the redheaded legfest?” Roselyn asked.

“Her name is Jessica, and don’t you have a girlfriend?” JoAnna asked in return, half wishing she’d never shown them what Jessica Chastain looked like. Or at least that she hadn’t shown them that particular picture of her friend showing off her legs in shorts.

“Any port in a storm, and there’s no harm in looking,” Megan pointed out.

“Not that most of us stick with just looking,” Emma chuckled.

“You get used to it,” Olivia assured JoAnna on seeing her facial expression.

“Eventually,” Blake added.

“Anyway, I talked to her when we were at our friend’s bachelorette party,” JoAnna continued. “Jessica’s got some vacation time coming and she’ll spend a couple of days of it here in San Fran.”

“Kind of a shame we can’t go down her way,” Megan said. “I love LA.”

“WE LOVE IT!” Hayden, Blake and Shay all sang as one, laughing.

“Quiet, children,” JoAnna said, smiling. “When she’s here it won’t be much of a problem getting her into the bank, because my computer dates back to like 2000 and keeps playing up. Jessica can work on my PC while I’m…”

And there was the blushing again. Jessica wasn’t going to be there officially, so the manager couldn’t know about it; and there was only one way JoAnna could be sure he wouldn’t interrupt.

Blake nodded in sympathy. “That could be a problem… you’re not a screamer, are you? That almost got me caught by my next door neighbour’s wife back when I was 16…”

“How about it?” Troian asked Shay, who was giggling at this. “Is she?”

“No, nosy – but he might be. And he’s not exactly my guy. Or Ryan Gosling… although he kind of looks like one,” JoAnna added, her face wrinkling. “At least I know I do it for him.”

“What about catching her at home?” Hayden continued.

“Well, we have two ways to go there,” Roselyn said. “They both involve my old job… one’s more direct but more dangerous; the other doesn’t call for so much face contact but it’s more tangled.”

“Define ‘tangled’,” Megan said through a mouthful of deceased pig.

“R.M. Housing has space in a building owned by a company called Radcliff Enterprises,” Roselyn explained. “I think if we can track down who owns it, we’ll see it leads back to Rhona.”

“Does this girl own all of the damn state?” Olivia muttered.

“Not yet.”

“So what’s behind door number two?” asked Emma from the corner.

“Now this is the one I don’t really want to do,” Roselyn replied hesitantly. “I’m thinking Monica Bellucci.”

Roselyn’s ex-partner had been extremely vocal in her disgust at what she’d been up to, swearing that if she could change the name of the company to Monica Bellucci Housing she would – and quite why she hadn’t when legally and logically she could have done so, no one knew (but Roselyn had her suspicions). Though it wasn’t like she’d actually shoot Roselyn Sanchez on sight, Monica would not hesitate to bring in the police the second she appeared in her line of vision… and from the expression on the face of Monica’s wife Ariana Grande when they’d attended the trial, it didn’t look as if she’d be any friendlier if Roselyn dropped by.

“So you don’t do it,” JoAnna told her. “Tell us what you want to get from her and let one of us go see her instead.”

“Like which one? She knows all of us,” Roselyn pointed out.

“I wasn’t part of it,” Olivia said.

“No, but you broke out with us. Monica has an excellent memory and I’m sure she’ll have seen the news,” Roselyn told her. “You show up there and—“

“Then it’ll be me,” Troian interrupted. “Maybe she’ll give me a break ‘cause I’m Italian and all.”

“HALF-Italian,” Hayden corrected, smiling.

“Whatever,” her girlfriend said, eyeing Hayden’s arm. “Look, I hate to change the subject like this… but we still need to get that looked at.”

Right on cue, Emma coughed several times in quick succession.

“And that. And those,” Blake added, indicating Roselyn’s arm and Olivia’s leg; the stitches Megan and Shay had put in (wincing all the while) were doing their job, but…

“I could get in touch with Navi,” Troian said hesitantly. “I think she’d—“

“NO.”

Hayden’s face had gone from cheerful to angry so quickly they weren’t sure they hadn’t shut their eyes for a few seconds. The blonde glared at Troian, her eyes set in disgust at what she’d just heard.

“There something we should know?” Megan asked.

“Oh yeah,” snapped Hayden. “Navi Rawat’s the EMT Troian was with before we met. They broke up around the time I joined Channel 7, and we ran into each other a little after that – the snotty cunt gave me the evil eye right there because she thought I’d jumped her claim…”

“C’mon, Hayden,” Troian pleaded. “You know she’s gotten over that by now.”

“She hasn’t gotten over YOU by now,” the small blonde pointed out. “Remember that time we were at Candlestick Park? Navi came by to say hi and the girl was creaming her panties over you. No way am I letting her anywhere near me – I’ll cut my arm off first…”

“That’s the only way it’ll get any worse, really,” Shay reflected. “But Emma there…”

“Hey, Emma’s actually in the room!” the safecracker snapped.

“There’s a place just outside the city I can take her too,” Megan interrupted. “Westside Medical’s not that far from here…”

“It’ll have to be later on, though,” Roselyn reflected. “The two of you go out in the daylight, more chance of being spotted.”

“Not a problem for them,” Olivia said bitterly, looking at Troian and JoAnna as they got up to leave.

“If it does get worse, I might have to look up Navi,” the brunette told them. “The others might need her even if Hayden doesn’t.”

“And I’ll stock up on breath mints,” JoAnna added. “My boss loves his garlic bread.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alice Englert also loved her garlic bread, particularly if it came with cheese, and so did Tamsin Egerton. Their older work colleague Salma Hayek was less keen because it made her stomach rumble like a volcano, so it had been more for the other two that early afternoon at Little Caesar’s (Alice actually preferred Pizza Hut, but you couldn’t argue with Tamsin’s staff discount).

“I don’t get it,” Salma laughed as her young friends finished their dessert and coffee and sat back with the kind of contented sighs that several other customers spotting Miss Hayek and her ample endowments were also giving. “How’d you manage to get all that stuff inside you and still not look like me?”

“Think we haven’t tried?” Alice replied, giggling. “Every night I ask the Boob Fairy for a little help – I guess my messages aren’t getting through. You think maybe I should go back to Australia and see if reception’s any better?”

“Send up a few for me while you’re there,” Tamsin added.

“Please, you’re both fine just the way you are,” Salma chided. “There’s more to being a woman than having large breasts.”

“So my guy keeps telling me,” Alice smiled as she took her Discover card out and put it on the tray for their waitress to process, transferring the smile to said wageslave. “Great as ever,” she added.

“Thanks,” replied the waitress as Alice went back to her friends.

“Some men can get picky though,” Tamsin continued. “Like the last boyfriend I had kept dropping hints I should get what I had enlarged… finally kicked the size queen to the kerb.”

“Good for you,” Salma beamed as the waitress returned to the table.

“Ah, thank you,” Alice said, reaching out for the tray she was carrying with her card.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the waitress told her. “Your card’s been declined.”

Alice’s smile vanished – she had been out on a date when that had happened, and she had not liked the feeling even when she wasn’t the one paying. And now here it was happening to her, but… “You what? But that’s impossible!”

“I’m afraid it’s true, ma’am. And I ran it through twice.”

“Do it again,” she said nervously.

“It’s all right, I’ll pay for it,” Salma assured her, opening her purse and taking out several bills. “I know how it feels for this to happen, so I always have some actual money with me. Just in case.”

“No, I’ll do it – discount, remember?” Tamsin said.

“You always do that,” the Latina chided. “I don’t mind picking up the cheque this time…”

While Tamsin and Salma had their friendly debate over who’d pay, Alice’s mind was on the card. She’d done some shopping yesterday but not that much, and she’d checked her amount online. She KNEW she had more than enough in there to last until payday- if she’d been eating with her brothers it would have been one thing, but the three of them hadn’t stuffed that much down their throats.

Alice Englert’s food turned to ashes inside her as she wondered where her money was. And who had it.

* * * * * * * * * *

It may have been the weekend, but Rhona Mitra had a busy day of nothing but meetings – there were people coming in from out of state who weren’t prepared to wait until Monday to discuss what was coming up, and Rhona wanted this settled badly enough that she was willing to sacrifice a Saturday morning with Rosie. Still, she had ways of relaxing before meetings.

Like having a meeting.

There were some things Rhona did not do; one of them was clean rooms. Another one was make appointments with women off the street – as good-looking as some of them could be, there was always a risk. She could afford to take care of just about any health problem; it was keeping the ladies quiet about who they’d been with that was the real danger – Rhona could pay them off not to talk, but she couldn’t guarantee someone wouldn’t pay them off to open their mouths. So she always made sure that the women she had her special meetings with either had something they wanted to keep quiet about, or wanted something she could give them.

Una Healy and Megan Hilty fell into the latter category, which she had to admit made a change – it was nice to have two relatively innocent and completely naked women at her disposal. The aspiring Irish singer’s sparkling eyes widened as she lay on Rhona’s plush flooring, feeling Megan Hilty’s tongue going where until now only her husband’s had been. Said husband had had his little problem cleared up – he was a good man but he liked the horses a little too much, $75 000-level too much – and Megan’s loser of an ex was currently doing a job Rhona needed doing, so now it was payback. And this was the ideal kind, with no paper trail.

“A deal is a deal,” Rhona said casually, stroking Una’s hair and eyeing her body. She was a lovely thing – slim with wavy red hair and perky chest cushions. “Are you sure this is the first time you’ve been with another woman?”

“It… is…” Una moaned, writhing as Megan slowly licked inside her before starting to move up. Unlike Una, this wasn’t the buxom blonde’s first time with a woman at all.

“I hear you’re in a band,” Megan said as she kissed Una’s stomach. “Any good?”

“We like to… think so,” the redhead sighed as Rhona sidled behind her and kissed her shoulders.

“Are the other girls as cute as you?” Megan asked, giving Una a good view of her breasts, which the lass started to fondle. Nice and heavy; Una liked the man meat, but she was enjoying the way Megan’s rack felt almost as much as she suspected Rhona was enjoying stroking her ass.

“They’re cuter,” Una replied, as Megan began to stroke her chest in return, a lazy smile playing across her face.

“Feels like satin,” Rhona whispered into Una’s ear approvingly. “You must make your husband very happy.”

“These feel pretty good,” Megan added, pressing her breasts onto Una’s before she came in closer to the woman. The two kissed, Miss Healy finding it easy to slip her tongue into Megan’s mouth and clutch the back of her head to bring it closer to her. Una’s other arm encircled the blonde’s thick, warm form, as she felt a pair of lips kissing the inside of her left thigh – Rhona had made her way down below.

Una’s hands cupped Megan’s cheeks, the fingertips slipping into the crack between them, as Rhona’s tongue slid between her own. Una couldn’t keep from squirming a little – it was the first time she’d ever had anyone do that to her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Not like Megan’s work on her pussy a few moments ago… now that she could use more of. She kissed the blonde again, wondering what she’d done to get herself into this situation.

Megan had one of her hands between Una’s legs, the fingertips starting to go inside. Una was bald below, and that was how Megan liked it – she did not like picking hairs out of her fingernails (or her teeth, thank you Debra Messing).  Licking Una’s nipples and loving how they were all standing up under her tongue, the blonde started to tease her snatch – her fingertips, plus Rhona’s tongue excavating further up her, were driving her to places her husband had never really managed to take her before.

The more Rhona munched her ass, the more she was starting to like it; though not as much as she felt she was going to like pressing her face between Megan’s boobs. The redhead squeezed the blonde’s melons as Megan’s mouth kept tasting, her fingers slipping inside her tight, increasingly wet  box. Ooooh yes, that was the stuff… Una was wanting to have a go at Megan’s own pussy, but she had a problem – she didn’t want to quit this girl’s upper half just yet.

“Megan…” she moaned. Getting the message immediately, the blonde pulled her face back and immediately thrust Una’s own face between her rack. The redhead rubbed her face on Megan’s flesh, loving the huge mounds she was between; she greedily began to suck on each of the blonde’s nipples, both so swollen and hard with so much meat around them Una almost took it from suckling into the realm of swallowing cocks.

“Hungry? I get that a lot,” Megan laughed, cradling Una with one arm while the other kept the pace between her friend’s legs, never letting her fingers rest for a second, bringing the girl closer to joy than she’d been for a long, long time. Until now Una had always thought those stories in magazines where a straight woman got turned had been just that – stories – but now here she was, being seduced by two hot older women (not much older in Megan’s case, admittedly), with Rhona licking Una’s legs and murmuring about how sexy said pins were… and Una not minding in the slightest where Rhona’s tongue had been a few moments back.

Grabbing as much of Megan as she could feel, Una almost started to claw some skin off as she screamed into the blonde’s cleavage, spurred along by Rhona’s lips moving up her legs. More and more she was looking forward to what happened when they got to her cunt – and maybe she could make one of these two women her first muff…

Una felt the last thing she wanted to feel – Rhona’s lips moving away from her, as Megan gently lifted her face away.

“I’ve done this before,” the buxom blonde explained. “I always know when time’s up.”

“Please don’t stop…” Una begged. “We just started.”

“I’m just as sorry as you are, but duty calls,” Rhona told her. “You cannot be seen here when the others arrive – my driver will take the two of you wherever you want to go.”

“But…” Una started, drinking in Rhona’s body and finding herself seriously wanting it.

“Fine, I’ll handle Miss Irish Spring on the journey down,” Megan interrupted.

“If it’s any consolation, Miss Healy, your side of the arrangement has already been completed. As for you, Miss Hilty…”

“My guy’s delivering the package tomorrow,” the blonde assured her.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Rhona replied, with a thin smile.

“Is there any chance he can take his time?” Una asked. “I’ve never gone down on a girl before.”

“If he drives slowly you’ll get to do more than go down on me,” Megan winked, and got up to get dressed.

Watching Megan’s meaty buttcheeks undulating away while she herself got up, Una mentally compared them to her husband’s. And found hubby’s wanting in comparison.

* * * * * * * * * *

“It’s all done,” Kat Dennings said in a low voice, handing Jessica the reports on the office’s last few cases. “Sorry about last time.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Jessica replied warmly, giving the recruit an encouraging smile.

Kat half-heartedly smiled back. “Agent Sursok is still trying to find out if anyone’s seen the escapees near some kind of transport. No luck yet.”

“We’ll find them, Kat. Oh, and…”

“Yes?” the brunette asked, nervously.

“Are you doing anything next weekend?”

Kat gulped, and her eyes darted to the floor. “Um… I’m flattered, but agents aren’t allowed to –“

“It’s not me,” Jessica assured her. “And it’s not in the FBI – I have a friend who’s been a little lonely for some time. I think the two of you might get along.”

The newcomer’s eyes rose back up to her boss. “It’s been a while… is she cute?”

“Very. You’ll like her,” said Director Biel. “Come back before you clock off and I’ll fill you in.”

Kat nodded, her long dress sweeping the floor as she left the office; Jessica’s smile became halved itself as she watched her leave. From the few times Kat had worn something that wasn’t 100% tent-esque she could tell that Miss Dennings had something special underneath her clothes – but she just kept on hiding her looks. All right, it wasn’t that important to her job and she was good at it… but if there was one thing Director Biel agreed with Agent Bell on, it was the old adage “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” And judging from the ample curves pushing out the top of her blouse, Kat had it. At least she wasn’t wearing a huge hat. Today.

Taking the coffee offered by the new intern, Beverley Mitchell’s eyes narrowed when Kat passed her desk. The intern’s eyes, meanwhile, just widened.

“I bet she’s got a killer butt under there,” he whispered to Beverley.

“So I’ve heard,” she replied. “Keep it in your pants, loverboy – you’re on duty.”

Beverley had heard it from Kristen; it had been lust at first sight for the agent (but not for Sursok – Beverley gave BJ *that* much). But while she’d had a few friendly words with Kat, nothing had panned out so far… and as far as Beverley was concerned it could stay that way. Even if she liked competition – and she didn’t, not by a long way – Kat Dennings’ endless “Oh woe is me, nobody thinks I’m hot, I never get any” whining during coffee breaks wasn’t helping her case. Beverley wanted to snap “For crying out loud woman, start dressing for men every once in a while.” (Actually, Kat didn’t whine that much – it just felt that way.)

Kristen and Kat passed each other en route to their respective destinations, and Kat blushed at the wink Kristen gave her.

“Love girls in glasses,” she whispered.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I hate IVs,” Emma Roberts muttered, even as she made eyes at the sexy brunette nurse attaching the line to her arm. “I always think they’re going to take stuff out, not put stuff in.”

“You won’t even feel a thing,” Nurse Caroline Dhavernas promised.

“If I do, will you make it up to me with a sponge bath?” Emma asked.

Caroline frowned. “Most patients don’t enjoy sponge baths.”

“Oh, I’d be the one giving it,” Emma said with a wink.

Megan Fox rolled her eyes; seemed like Emma was already feeling better. Hopefully, they’d be able to get out of Westside Medical Clinic before anyone recognized them – though how that’d be possible, she didn’t know. They’d had to wait outside the emergency room for almost two agonizing hours, where Megan’s fears of being arrested and Emma dying traded places repeatedly depending on how bad the younger girl was coughing. It was a busy night, with several broken bones, a car crash, and most troublesome, a gunshot wound. Seemed to be accidentally self-inflicted, from the little bit Megan had overheard, but she’d been in enough hospitals over the years to know that the cops came to investigate every gunshot reported. So far, the cops seemed to be as slow as the ER doctors, which was about all she and Emma had going for them.

More and more, Megan was beginning to think they should’ve waited for Troian’s ex girlfriend to come and look at Emma.

“Emma… Watson?” a new voice spoke up from behind the curtains. All three women in the small room turned to see a lovely, redheaded doctor standing in the doorway. Megan felt her pussy clench automatically upon seeing her.

“Yes, hi,” Emma said, remembering the fake name she’d given upon being admitted. Troian and JoAnna had been able to get everyone some fake IDs, but they hadn’t been the most creative of names. Megan was posing as Megan Park, Shay was Shay Jordan, and Hayden was now going by the last name Christensen.

“Miss Watson, I’m Dr. Rachel Nichols. I’m afraid you’ve got pneumonia, along with several cuts and bruises.”

“Camping trip gone bad,” Emma said. She was about to add more, but got caught up in a coughing fit.

Rachel turned towards Megan. “Camping trip?”

“Yeah, she thought it would be romantic,” the brunette said, improvising.

“I see,” Rachel said, seemingly deflating a bit as Megan spoke. “So you two are-”

“Oh, no!” Megan said. “No, I’m just her friend. Her lesbian friend. Who’s single.”

“Ah,” Rachel said, smiling a bit brighter at that. “Well, your friend is getting a nice cocktail of drugs that should kick the pneumonia out of her in a day or two. Nurse Dhavernas will tend to her other wounds. But I think she should be safe to go home by this evening. Plenty of bed rest, fluids, and no more camping for a while, I think.”

“Got it,” Megan said. “Thank you so much, Doctor.”

“Oh, not a problem,” Rachel said.

“Would you, ah, would you like to get a cup of coffee?” Megan asked before Rachel could slip out of the room.

Rachel seemed to consider it for a moment. “Sure. Sure, why not? Give me half an hour to finish my rounds, and so long as no new traumas come in, I’ll take you up to the Doctor’s dining area, where the coffee is actually drinkable.”

“Sounds good,” Megan said, admiring Rachel’s ass in her scrubs as she walked off.

“*Cough*slut*COUGH*” Emma managed to get out.

Megan winked at her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rachel Nichols hadn’t always wanted to be a doctor. In fact, growing up, she’d figured she’d go into the family business of being a cop. But when she’d taken a First Aid class in summer camp one year, she’d gotten hooked, and her life changed. But she still held law enforcement near and dear to her heart.

It didn’t hurt that she was dating a cop, too.

Emma Watson – such a fake name – was the last patient on her rounds for the evening, and had she really wanted to, Rachel could’ve taken that Megan Park girl – that name was probably fake, too – upstairs for all the coffee she wanted, but Rachel needed to make a phone call first.

“Patrick?” she said into her phone.

“Hey babe. Thanks for letting me fuck your ass last night.”

“Patrick, this isn’t a sex call,” Rachel said, cutting her boyfriend off before he could get going.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but I think I’ve got two of those SF8 girls you guys are looking for here at the clinic.”

Suddenly, Officer Patrick O’Kelley was all business. “What have you got?”

“Two women, one with pneumonia and several scrapes and bruises, all easily a week or so old. The other with a few bruises of her own, but more importantly, she’s got several tattoos like the ones on the APB you have at home. They‘re using really bad fake names, and aside from hitting on me and every nurse here, they look like they‘re in a hurry to get out.”

“Okay Rachel, this sounds promising. I need you to keep them there. I’m on my way over, but I gotta call this in to the FBI and let them take the lead. Whatever you have to do, keep them in that clinic.”

“I-I’ll try,” Rachel said. “Just hurry, Patrick.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“WE GOT SOMETHING!”

Kristen Bell shook her head, coming out of a daydream where she was motorboating Kat Dennings’ incredible tits, and turned to see Tammin racing in from the communications room.

“What is it?” Jessica Biel said, coming out of her office.

“Police just got a call from the Westside Medical Clinic claiming that they’ve got two very good matches on SF8ers. Sounds like Emma Roberts and Megan Fox!”

“Bell! Take BJ and Beverley and get there NOW,” Jessica said; Kristen was already grabbing her jacket. “I’ll have SFPD cordon off the place, but keep a low profile. We don’t want to spook them.”

“It could take us the better part of an hour to get there this time of day,” Kristen reminded her. “Unless you want to give us the helicopter.”

“There’s no helipad at Westside,” Tammin said. “I checked.”

“Then hurry,” Jessica said. “This is the first break we’ve had since they escaped, and we’re NOT going to fuck it up.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The more Rachel Nichols spoke with the ersatz Megan Park, the more she liked her. In another life, she suspected they could be friends. Though lovers was certainly out of the question. Rachel had never had sex with a woman, even when her college roommate Carrie had tried to seduce her six times. Rachel really preferred men.

Not that she’d tell Megan that. Keeping this little coffee date going was the only way to keep the escaped prisoner in the clinic.

“… so there I am, in just my bra, no panties, and the whole crowd is just staring at me in silent awe, not knowing I’d been having sex with the lead dancer every time she’d gone off-stage. If that curtain hadn’t fallen, I would’ve gotten away with it, too,” Megan was saying.

“So what’d you do?”

“The only thing I could do – I stood up on my toes as best I could, and pirouetted off the stage. Never saw Natalie again – she thinks I ruined her career. But all the papers were claiming it was the most unique and sexiest version of ‘Swan Lake’ ever.”

Rachel laughed along with Megan, who was rubbing her foot up and down the doctor’s leg under the table.

“Sounds like you’ve been with a lot of women,” Rachel said, trying to deflect the advances of the charming thief and prisoner.

“And men,” Megan admitted. “I’m a firm believer in finding pleasure wherever you can.” As she spoke, Megan’s foot ran all the way up and pressed against Rachel’s crotch – which, surprisingly, was growing a bit wet.

“Oh, wow,” was all the doctor could mutter.

“We’ve been chatting for a while now, Doc. Don’t you want to get me to an exam room?” Megan asked, pressing her toes – where did her shoe go, Rachel wondered – right up against Rachel’s erect little clit.

“All of our exam rooms are full,” Rachel stammered, trying hard to ignore the pleasurable sensations radiating out from beneath the table. She wasn’t lying. Westside Medical was crowded today.

“A supply closet then?” Megan asked.

“You’ve been watching too much trashy TV,” Rachel said, never-the-less thinking about the closest supply closet just down the hall. What was wrong with her?

“No, I just want to get trashy with you,” Megan said, boldly leaning across the table and kissing Rachel, not giving a care that everyone else in the Doctor’s cafeteria could see them.

The kiss blew Rachel away. She’d never once been kissed like that in her life. Hard and demanding, but soft and seductive at the same time. She’d only ever kissed a girl once – her roommate Carrie, trying to get her off Rachel’s back. Literally. But this kiss with Megan was something more. Something intoxicating.

There was still no sign of the cops, or the FBI, or anyone at all. Not even the security guard, who was probably watching “Hart of Dixie” on his iPod downstairs again.

Well, Patrick had said to do whatever it took to keep the fugitives in the clinic. This was certainly one way.

“Down the hall, fifth door on the right. It’s labeled supply. Give me two minutes to go there first and unlock it,” Rachel said.

“That’ll give me just enough time to finish my coffee,” Megan smiled at her seductively.

* * * * * * * * * *

“We should be there by now,” Kristen Bell grumbled. “Are we sure this is the fastest route?”

Tammin Sursok shrugged. “We’re following Beverley,” she said, nodding towards the van in front of them. “She’s got the directions on her phone.”

“She’s probably chatting on it instead of following it’s directions,” Kristen muttered, reaching for the tactical radio built into the dashboard. “Beverley?”

“Yeah boss?” Beverley’s voice came back after a moment.

“Are you sure this is the fastest route there?”

“It isn’t. There’s construction on Meadowbrook.”

“Fuck,” Kristen swore. “Okay, just hurry!”

Ahead of them, Beverley sped up.

* * * * * * * * * *

The scrubs issued to the doctors and nurses of Westside Medical Center were far too easy to take off, Rachel mused as Megan ran her tongue down the doctor’s collar bone towards her bra-covered tits. She still couldn’t believe she was doing this.

She also couldn’t believe she WANTED to do this.

Megan hadn’t said a word since Rachel had let her in the supply closet – merely started kissing and stripping the doctor. Now, with her pants around her ankles and her nipples ready to shred through her bra, Rachel was beginning to rethink her whole stance on lesbianism. Every kiss, every lick, every touch Megan gave her crumbled more of Rachel’s defenses.

Suddenly, Megan’s hands were in the waistband of Rachel’s boy short panties, yanking them down and exposing the lovely redhead’s shaved pussy to the cool air. Rachel shivered, then gasped as Megan dropped to her knees and immediately began eating her out.

Having been almost militantly straight her entire life, Rachel Nichols didn’t have a lot of experience with people going down on her. Most of her boyfriends had done it once or twice, but none of them had ever acted like they enjoyed it, and she hadn’t really enjoyed their efforts anyway. They were all much better just shoving their cocks into her and pounding away. But Megan – oh, Megan could do things with her tongue that made the best fucking Rachel had ever had in her life feel like barely a tickle.

It was like being a virgin again, so much like being touched for the first time. Rachel was feeling levels of erotic bliss she’d never felt before, never imagined she could feel before. She was regretting ever turning down her old college roommate’s advances. As Megan feasted on her pussy juice, Rachel Nichols was having a revelation. She WAS a lesbian. And she would never, ever had sex with a man again.

It took all of three minutes of oral sex from Megan Fox to get Rachel Nichols to climax, and when she did, the doctor fell back against the shelves in the supply closet, nearly knocking over the KY Jelly they used for OGYN exams. She hung there, arms spread wide for support, her scrubs top unbuttoned exposing her simple cotton-bra, her pants and boy shorts around her ankles, her pussy gushing into Megan’s mouth as the criminal continued to feast upon her. An orgasm more powerful than any she’d ever had before turned Rachel’s mind to jelly, and she stood there quaking for several long moments, trying to recover herself.

“Okay, wow, you enjoyed that,” Megan said, laughing a bit when Rachel came around.

“You-you have to run,” the doctor panted.

“Huh?”

“The cops know you’re here. They told me to keep you busy. I’m sorry-”

Megan was out the door before Rachel could finish.

By the end of the week, Rachel Nichols would dump her cop boyfriend, and end up sleeping with one of the nurses at Westside Medical. She’d come out, openly, and would live the rest of her life as a proud lesbian, dating several women before marrying Caroline Dhavernas almost five years later. Her life forever changed, Rachel would never know Megan’s real name, never know for sure if she was one of the San Francisco Seven or Eight or however many there were, would never know if she lived or died. But that one little coffee date and getting eaten out in a supply closet, trashy TV-like, would lead the doctor to happiness she never could’ve imagined.

Too bad the same wasn’t true for Megan Fox.

* * * * * * * * * *

The two FBI vans came to screeching halts, and Kristen Bell was the first one out, running towards a parked SFPD squad car.

“Agent Bell?” a plainclothes officer said as she approached.

“That’s me.”

“Detective Banes, my partner, Detective Drew,” he said, motioning towards a young woman standing beside him. “We’re still trying to get the place cordoned off, but we’re short-handed at the minute. Got a pileup several blocks east of here that’s slowing down backup.”

“We can’t wait much longer,” Bell said as Sursok and Mitchell approached. “We may have to go in and grab them.”

“According to hospital security, they don’t appear armed, and they are both being watched. A nurse is with the one receiving medical attention, and a doctor is with the other one, having coffee.”

“What, like on a date?” Tammin said.

“Don’t worry, she’s dating one of my officers,” Banes replied.

“You don’t know these girls, Detective. They’ve seduced much tougher targets,” Kristen muttered. “How many plainclothes do you have here?”

“Maybe six,” Banes offered. “But I’ve got twice that many uniforms that I can call in. If we surround the building-”

“These women are killers and desperate, Detective. No, we need to keep this quiet. Banes, you’re with me. BJ, take Drew. Beverley, grab another plainclothes. We’ll slip in and try and grab them. Be careful. Just because they appear unarmed doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous.”

“Right,” Banes said, waving over some of the other cops.

“Let’s go get us some fugitives,” Tammin said.

“I just hope they don’t escape,” Beverley added.

* * * * * * * * * *

Megan Fox’s instincts were telling her to run; get out of Westside Medical Center and just run for it. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave Emma behind, even though the girl was tied to an IV bag and still in need of medical attention. Back before the SFUB heist, Megan wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving any of the girls behind. But their time together in Remy Hadley had connected her to the gang more than she realized. And Megan Fox wasn’t going to leave a fellow San Fran Eight girl behind.

As she wove through the halls of Westside Medical, she grabbed a scalpel sitting on an exam table and hurried towards Emma’s room, half expecting to see cops screaming around the corner at any minute. She was beginning to wish she’d had a gun with her, not that she ever would’ve gotten into the clinic with one.

Slipping down a stairwell, she returned to the floor where Emma’s room was, slipped past the nursing station, and slid into the exam room where Emma was staying.

If it was anyone else staying there, Megan might have been surprised by what she saw. But when she came face to face with Emma Roberts and nurse Caroline Dhavernas both buck naked, engaging in a 69 on Emma’s bed while the often-nude criminal was still attached to her IV, well it wasn’t surprising at all.

“We gotta go,” Megan said, closing the door behind her.

“OHMYGOD,” Caroline said, jumping off Emma and trying – and failing – to cover her nakedness with her hands.

“Admit it,” Emma said, sitting up. “I’ve got good taste.”

“You do. Now get dressed.”

“You can’t leave,” Caroline said. “You still need treatment. We need to replace your IV bag any minute now, and-”

“And it’ll have to wait,” Megan said, pulling out the scalpel. “We’re leaving. Now get that line out of my friend’s arm, or you’re going to be the next one in this room needing medical treatment.”

Sensing the truth in Megan’s voice, Caroline moved quickly to undo Emma’s IV.

“Please tell me you have clothes here somewhere,” Megan said, glancing around the room.

“I got the exam gown they gave me,” Emma said, pointing towards the pink pile of fabric on the floor.

“Well, I guess it’s slightly less obvious than you running around naked,” Megan sighed.

“I do my best work naked,” Emma reminded her.

“Yeah you do,” Caroline agreed.

“Just put it on,” Megan said. “Cops are coming, and we’re leaving.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Westside Medical had three floors, and wasn’t THAT big of a clinic. Kristen assigned Beverley and her partner to the first floor, gave Tammin the third floor, which was mostly surgery rooms, and took the second floor herself, which was where the doctor Nichols was supposed to be watching the girl they believed to be Megan Fox. With Detective Banes hot on her heels, Kristen raced past the nurses station, onto the elevator, and right up stairs, just missing Megan slipping into the first-floor exam room with Emma in it.

They found Rachel Nichols still recovering – and still naked – in the supply closet a few minutes later.

“What happened? Did she rape you?” Kristen asked, looking at the clearly sexually aroused doctor.

“No, no. I was, uh, just trying to keep her here. She figured it out, though,” Rachel said, blushing a little.

“What room are you keeping her friend in?”

“6A downstairs,” Rachel said. “Or was it 6B?”

Kristen raced off, Banes following, the naked doctor left forgotten behind.

* * * * * * * * * *

In 6B, Megan and a now covered Emma were just finishing strapping the still-naked Caroline to the very exam table she and Emma had been fucking on. Emma took plenty of opportunities to grope the nurse before she and Megan peeked outside.

“Shit, look there,” Megan said, pointing across the nursing station to the other side exam rooms. Sure enough, there was Beverley Mitchell and a guy with such a severe buzz-cut that he HAD to be a cop, coming out of one exam room and slipping into another, clearly searching them.

“What now?” Emma asked. “Sneak out a window?”

“All the windows are locked and have bars,” Caroline offered.

“Don’t make me gag you,” Megan warned her.

“Better not; if you gag her, I’m going to HAVE to do naughty stuff to her,” Emma said, winking back at the nurse, who quivered on the bed.

“Shut up and think of a way out,” Megan said quietly, closing the door.

“Air vents?”

“You might be small enough to slip through them, but I’m not,” Megan said.

“You’re not THAT big,” Emma said. “Your tits are, but you-”

“Emma, I promise, you get us out of here, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to my tits, but can we PLEASE get out of here first?” Megan pleaded.

“Take off your clothes,” Emma said.

“I said AFTER we got out!” Megan said, exasperated.

“No, get out of your clothes, and put HERS on,” Emma continued, pointing to the discarded nurses outfit Caroline had been wearing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kristen met Beverley Mitchell right outside room 6A, which the junior FBI agent and her SFPD partner were about to check out.

“Fox is gone,” Kristen said. “According to the doctor, it’s either this room, or the one across the hall that Roberts is in.”

“Okay, you take the lead. I’ll stay back and keep an eye out for Fox,” Beverley suggested.

“Make sure no one leaves that room across the way,” Bell said firmly. She then drew her service sidearm, and slid into the exam room, Banes and the other SFPD man right behind her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“This uniform barely fits,” Megan complained, motioning towards her chest, where her sizeable breasts were threatening to pop the button keeping them covered.

“Looks good to me,” Emma said. They’d had to stuff Megan’s bra and panties into Caroline’s mouth to keep the nurse from screaming for help, so both fugitives were now going completely commando. But if it got them out of the medical center without being arrested, well then spending some time without underwear on was worth it.

Emma was now sitting in a wheelchair, a mobile IV pole attached to it. If they’d had more time, Megan would’ve had Caroline actually attach the medicine Emma needed and kept her friend healing, but that would’ve meant untying and then retying the nurse, and they didn’t have that kind of time to waste. Instead, the unplugged IV line was merely taped to Emma’s arm, which hopefully looked good enough to pass casual inspection.

Megan slid up to the door, and peeked out, just in time to see Kristen Bell lead two obvious cops into 6A.

“Now or never,” she said, grabbing Emma’s wheelchair and pushing her friend out. “This better work.”

“It will,” Emma said as Megan backed out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Beverley Mitchell saw a nurse in a too-small uniform pull a patient with an IV drip back out of 6A, and knew immediately it was Megan Fox and Emma Roberts. The flimsy disguises they were using wouldn’t get them past the front door, let alone past a trained FBI agent.

Which meant if they were going to get where they needed to go, she’d have to help them out. Without being caught by Kristen Bell or Tammin Sursok.

“Some days, I hate my job,” Beverley muttered aloud. Then she raised her voice just enough to be heard across the hallway.

“Better put someone on the front door. They don’t have time to slip out the back,” she said to no one in particular. No one even so much as glanced in her direction, but the nurse/fugitive turned the wheelchair around and made a B-line for the back of the clinic.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was working! Holy crap, Megan Fox thought, it was working.

“Emma, I’m totally going to let you do every dirty little thing you ever wanted to do to me,” Megan whispered as she pushed the wheelchair out the back door, which was completely unguarded.

“Mmmm, do you have a double-sided dildo and a bottle of honey handy?” Emma asked, before coughing again.

“I’ll get them,” Megan promised. Oh, the sexy little thief had earned so hot, hot sex for this. Plus, Megan was still a little turned on from going down on that sexy doctor and not getting any in return. She hadn’t even managed to get undressed! Talk about blue balls! Well, she was certain Emma would make it up to her as soon as she was feeling better. And who knew, maybe one of the other girls back at the hideout was feeling frisky. Megan could-

She didn’t get to finish her thought before a rag filled with chloroform was pressed over her mouth. She tried to struggle, but it was too late – she’d breathed in too much, and the sweet-smelling vapors were knocking her out. She could see someone doing the same thing to Emma, and the last thought she had before she passed out was that whoever this was, it wasn’t the cops.

* * * * * * * * * *

The tied up, gagged, and very naked nurse Caroline Dhavernas aside, 6B was as empty as 6A. Kristen was furious, and the uniformed officers outside were all called in. Every room, every cabinet, every crevice of Westside Medical Clinic was searched twice. But it was evident that the two Remy Hadley fugitives had slipped away. All they had to go on were the two naked employees – Caroline and Rachel – who’d been seduced and abandoned, neither of them knowing anything about where the two SF8ers were going.

“You’re certain no one came out of 6B?” Kristen snapped at Beverley.

“Positive. They must have snuck out before we got there,” she lied.

“God damn it!” Kristen swore. “All right, Banes, the FBI thanks you and your SFPD buddies for their help. Hopefully, we can get SOMETHING from the security cameras.”

“If they snuck out the back, you aren’t – someone disabled those cameras earlier,” Banes muttered, just as unhappy as Kristen was.

“You’re saying they had help?”

“Looks that way,” Banes said, before taking Drew and heading out the door.

“It must have been the rest of the gang,” Beverley said. She knew it wasn’t – it had been Rhona’s men, waiting there since Beverley called them from the van on the too-long trip from the FBI offices.

“I don’t get it,” Tammin said. “After the SFUB heist, they all went their separate ways. Now they’re all working together again, and just to get one of them some incomplete medical treatment?”

“There’s definitely more going on here than we know,” Kristen said. “Come on, let’s go back and see if the boss has anything for us.”

As Tammin and Kristen headed out the door, Beverley couldn’t help but smile. The FBI might have dropped the ball, but Rhona Mitra was going to be incredibly pleased with Beverley Mitchell’s performance today.

* * * * * * * * *

“I can’t believe you watch this shit. On purpose,” Roselyn grumbled, shaking her head.

None of the team, before this whole thing had started, would have been caught dead at home on a Saturday night – but that was then, and this was now, and they were mostly gathered close around the TV JoAnna had brought for them. Not because the Spanish-language movie on LATV was so scintillating, but because it wasn’t a very big set.

“Do any of you even SPEAK Spanish?!” the leader continued.

“I’m just here for the eye candy,” Shay admitted.

“Relax, we’ll switch over in time for ‘NCIS’,” Olivia added with an eye on the quarrelling Latina women onscreen. Shame it didn’t involve wrestling, but any port in a storm.

“Or the local news,” Roselyn reminded them.

She didn’t need to remind them – with each passing hour and no sign of “Megan Park” and “Emma Watson,” the possible conclusions the gang were coming to both seemed more and more likely. No matter how busy the clinic got it couldn’t have been so busy that they’d still be there by now, unless some kind of disaster had taken place all of a sudden.  Some kind of incredibly localized disaster that no station had interrupted broadcasting to mention.

“You know, if they got caught-“ Blake started.

“If they got caught, they won’t talk,” Roselyn interrupted.

“That too, but if they got caught going to the doc’s then…” Blake trailed off, looking nervously at Hayden.

“You do what you have to do,” the small blonde told them flatly. “I’m the only one who’s got the problem.”

“Fine, but I’ll always have your back,” Blake told her as the sound of a phone humming began to underscore the TV.

“Hello?” Roselyn said, answering it without bothering to ask who it was; Troian had supplied them with the phone, which was in her name. The others lost any interest in Mexican frenzied females, watching the leader and the expression on her face as she listened to the other end.

“Ah, I see… all right, I’ll tell ‘em. Thanks for everything again, Troy – get some sleep, girl. Night.” She hung up the phone and pocketed it.

“Troian got a few minutes on the phone with Navi – she’s working until Monday. She’s got that day off so she can drop by here and sort me and Olivia out, but until then…” she shrugged.

“Put it on Channel 5, Miss Remote Control Hog,” Olivia said to Shay amiably. “Time for the news.”

“Yeah, some more downers won’t make much difference now,” Hayden cracked as the channel changed, the screen filling with Channel 5’s slightly-less-flash-than-Channel-7 news set. But at least it was the weekend news, so they had that foxy Kate Mara hosting. Five heads leaned in close and five sets of ears perked up as the cute young brunette started to deliver the latest events in San Francisco.

A half hour later, five heads leaned back once Kate had bid the viewers good night. For once they’d been left dissatisfied by a beautiful woman in a non-sexual sense – she’d told the viewers bedtime stories about robbery, industrial disputes, and centenarian twins. But not a word about members of the San Francisco Eight being captured, not even at the end as a “And in late-minute breaking news” piece.

“Maybe something happened to Emma at-“ Shay started.

“You think they wouldn’t have said something?” Olivia snapped, before catching herself.

“And I can’t see Megan and Emma suddenly deciding to run off somewhere once she got dosed,” Hayden added.

“We can’t sort out a plan without sleep,” Roselyn stated, switching the set off. “Off to bed, the lot of you.”

“Yes, mom,” Blake said cutely, not asking what plan she was talking about. She didn’t have to.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Looking forward to the big meeting tomorrow, Ash?”

“Still nervous,” Ashley Benson admitted to her mother down the phone as she kicked back at home.

“Don’t worry – they’ll love you. Just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll end up the next Barbara Walters.”

Ashley was not planning on sharing a screen with a load of other women any time ever, but she didn’t say that to Mom (a huge fan of “The View”), but otherwise things had never been better for her. Channel 7 News regularly kicked local ratings tushy, she’d broken several impressive stories – including a couple involving enemies of Rhona Mitra, for which Mitra had been very appreciative (meaning she had actually bothered to phone and thank her, which by Rhona Mitra standards was appreciative) – and Ashley had been given a healthy raise. They were even talking about giving her a shot at reporting on the network… going from being a big fish in a pretty big pond to a lower rung nationally wasn’t something she was really looking forward because of having to leave Channel 7 and her star status, but a rung upward was a rung upward.

“When are you going to meet someone?”

“Mom, I’m not looking… no time yet,” Ashley lied. She’d had a man over earlier that evening anyway – a pretty handsome fellow, guy by the name of Billy Kruger, who’d left her a little package.

“Compliments of Rhona,” he’d said.

“Wow,” Ashley had breathed on opening it. “Just what I need.”

“She had a feeling you could use that – always thinking ahead,” Billy had smiled. “Had it made specially for you.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” the blonde had said. “And I got something for you…”

“No thanks, ma’am. I’m just the messenger boy. And I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Ashley had grinned. “C’mon, live a little…”

“I’ll pass,” Billy had said.

“Can’t let you go without something though… “ Ashley had scurried away, emphasising her wiggle to give Billy an idea of what he was turning down, and written him out a decent amount on a cheque. What was inside the package made it worth it to her, and remembering the smile on his face when she’d handed him the slip, she sighed as she fondled the contents of the package.

“Trust me, mom… I got everything I need…” Ashley told her mother.

* * * * * * * * * *

The first thing Victoria Justice did when she woke up on Monday morning was to be thankful. Thankful that she was sleeping in a bed instead of on a bench; in a bed in an apartment rather than a drug den or somewhere; and in a bed with someone who was happy to be with her without paying her. And even in the unlikely event of Tammin Sursok paying her, none of it would be going into Rhona Mitra’s cavernous pockets.

The brunette turned her head, expecting to see Tammin sleeping next to her. For a moment Victoria’s heart jumped in fear on seeing she was alone in the bed – no, not again… but then she remembered. Tammin wasn’t a client, and she sure as fuck wasn’t one of Rhona’s friends – she’d just gone to work. Victoria expected her to leave early, but why did she have to leave *this* early? It wasn’t like she was one of the cleaners…

The bedroom door opened and Tammin, wearing a T-shirt and nothing else, slipped inside.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked gently, seeing Victoria’s face a split second before the surprised look on it vanished.

“No, I just thought it was later than it was…” the brunette replied, before she grimaced.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tammin.

“That shirt,” Victoria answered. “You DO know you don’t live in Oakland, right?”

Everyone at work knew Tammin was a lesbian, but no one knew that she was a bigtime Oakland Raiders fan in a sea of 49ers supporters (including her boss and Victoria). That was her real traumatic secret, but Tammin couldn’t help grinning on saying “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Take that shirt off right now, young lady,” Victoria said in mock-seriousness.

Tammin peeled the shirt off and threw it aside, letting the other woman check out her lissom nakedness before she climbed back into the bed.

“Much better,” Victoria smiled, kissing Tammin and resting a hand on one of the agent’s breasts. “Much, much better.”

She started to massage Tammin’s chest, repeatedly kissing her while feeling the Fed’s fingers exploring her body. As much as she liked the agent’s boobs, she could tell Tammin was really loving Victoria’s set – squeezing them together and rubbing the nipples into an erection (like they needed any help there). The woman had the same look on her face that Victoria had seen on a few of the women she’d slept with, a mixture of lust and envy; but in this case there was something different, something kinder. Tammin kissed the tips of Victoria’s nipples, tasting the circles around them.

“WAY perkier than mine were when I was 20,” Tammin smiled, with no bitterness in her voice at all – just appreciation.

“You wouldn’t be so jealous if you knew where they’d been,” Victoria commented.

“They’re not there now,” Tammin pointed out.

“No, they’re not,” the young woman replied with relief, slipping her hands alongside Tammin’s slim body and moving one set of fingers down to the tattoo above her crotch, tracing the tips over “Mind Body Soul.” The brunette started to lick her way softly down her bedmate, listening to Tammin’s little sighs with each touch of her tongue and caressing her smooth skin. If only more of the customers looked like her…

Within moments, Victoria had Tammin’s tattoo full in her vision, her eyes scanning it and moving a little further down and to the left, resting on the feast between the agent’s legs before returning to the three words.

“A sharp mind… a beautiful body… and a wonderful soul,” she whispered, kissing the tattoo. “Cursive’s a kind of turn-on with this, Tammin.”

“Say that last bit again,” said the agent, stroking Victoria’s head.

“Tammin… what, you get hot when someone says your name?”

“It’s just been so long since someone not related to me called me that,” Tammin explained. “Everyone at work calls me BJ, word got around and now most of my friends do it…”

“How come they call you BJ?” Victoria asked, gently kissing the area above her cunt.

“Blow Job Lips.”

“Jerks,” the brunette muttered, unable to see Tammin’s face light up. Other people she’d explained it to had cracked wise about how it suited her, and now this angel was actually sympathising with how it made Tammin Sursok felt… her hands fondled Victoria more intensely as the girl’s mouth touched her slot.

“Tammin,” she whispered.

The agent’s pussy began to moisten; until now Tammin hadn’t imagined anyone could ever say her name and make it sound sexy. As Victoria’s experienced tongue began to play with her clit, the agent reflected that she might just take this girl’s name if it ever got more serious – Agent Justice had a great ring to it. Mmmmm, good action there… her tongue moved along it like she was painting, getting the feel and texture just right. Tammin cradled the girl’s head as she munched, treating her pussy lips like they hadn’t been for a while.

“Feel like a little Bryan Adams?” the agent groaned as Victoria’s tongue probed deeper.

“Come again?” the other paused long enough to ask.

“My dad loves him,” Tammin explained. “I used to think ‘Summer Of 69’ was about the year but one night he put it on and he’d had way too much to drink – again – and he told me it was about…”

“I’m on it,” Victoria interrupted with a giggle. Slipping away from Tammin, she slowly got off the bed to give her partner a chance to check out her body, and then carefully climbed back on in reverse, again taking her time so Tammin could… well… enjoy the view of Victoria’s fine, blemish-challenged backside. Resting on the agent with her legs spread on either side of her face, Victoria placed her hands on Tammin’s own thighs before dipping her face down to get some more of that sweet FBI snatch; she might have entered before the agent’s own eager tongue thrust into her box, but she couldn’t be sure. But she was sure about how it felt.

Tammin’s tongue and lips lavished themselves on Victoria’s dark, tasty muff as if she hadn’t had this for years. She sucked and licked and probed like a woman possessed, while her hands pinched, stroked and slapped Victoria Justice’s cheeks. Seriously, if Tammin had time she would have fucked this girl’s foxy little ass until she was screaming (her and Tammin both). The agent tasted Victoria’s clit while relishing the mouth that was loving her own pussy, the tongue moving like a butterfly and making her wetter with each touch. Gripping Victoria tighter, Tammin was trying not to race the girl – she just wanted to make her feel as good as she was feeling right now.

The two women writhed on the bed, their moans starting to turn to screams of happiness as each one munched and tasted the other. Tammin’s fingers were squeezing Victoria’s ass harder as the girl  licked faster, but it was the younger woman on top who was starting to catch fire – she didn’t ever want to stop having this. Victoria didn’t know what was better, how Tammin tasted or the rapid movement of her tongue… “OooooohhhhhhhhTAMMMMMMINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  she howled, smelling Tammin’s lovely pussy fragrance and feeling her own secretions dampening the agent’s mouth as she kept on tonguing the woman, her body thrashing atop her as the ex-stripper had her first real orgasm since the time she and Dan…

No, screw him. He didn’t matter. He didn’t count any more. She wasn’t sure she was about to give up men for good, but for now and the foreseeable future all that mattered was this beautiful woman who’d saved her from that shithole of a club. Tammin was her benefactor, and she was going to make her happy she’d taken in Victoria Justice… and from the increasingly loud cries coming from the other end of her body, it sounded like Victoria WAS making her happy. The young girl’s tongue moved ever faster and eagerly, going deeper inside Tammin’s gorgeous cunt and fondling her legs. She had fantastic legs, and too many pant suits in her closet.

“Fuck me, Victoria! FUCK ME!!!” Tammin yelled. “DON’T STOP!!!”

The bed shook underneath Tammin’s bucking as she clutched Victoria, kissing her soaked pussy as she screamed her satisfaction and came underneath the girl, loving the hot delight shooting through her body. This one was a natural, and she was only 20… licking the insides of Victoria’s thighs, Tammin thanked fate for bringing this girl into her life. Even if it had been in the line of duty.

Glowing and happy, Victoria carefully turned around to face the beaming Tammin. “Not bad,” she laughed, kissing her on the lips.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” the agent replied.

“Can’t you call in sick today?” Victoria pouted.

“No rest for the wicked. It’ll be the weekend soon, relax,” Tammin said, folding an arm around the girl and resting the hand on her ass, patting it. “Spend the day at the beach or at a game. Not the Raiders, I swear.”

“Love’s all about compromises,” Victoria said. “I could sit through those guys if you let me play with your ass afterwards.”

“You can play with it all night tonight,” Tammin winked.

“Deal.” Smiling, Victoria put her head on the agent’s chest, closing her eyes for a moment. Wow, she was so warm, and even without a bath she smelt so good…

Victoria could still smell her when she woke up. The sun was now doing its business in the sky and piercing through the curtains, lighting up Victoria – and only Victoria, as she saw when she looked to her left. Tammin was gone, with a folded piece of paper on the pillow next to her.

Smiling and shaking her head at how the agent had managed to disengage herself from her embrace without interrupting the slumber, Victoria picked up the note and opened it; wow, this girl had terrible handwriting. It looked like she was telling her new roomie to be good, or at least to take care of the place while she was out. At least she could make out how the note ended: “P.S. Don’t worry about falling asleep after sex! :)

“You’re a keeper,” the young beauty laughed, folding up the note and heading for the bathroom.

A shower, an hour, a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and a couple of Twinkies later – how did Tammin stay so slim with all this junk food around the place, Victoria wondered? – she weighed her next move. She could show some appreciation for what Tammin had done for her lately by cleaning up her apartment. Or she could check out some things online for a couple of hours… play some Candy Crush, listen to some music, whatever.

No contest. She put the bowl in the dishwasher and headed to the PC; Candy Crush it would be. Singing to herself, she turned it on and sat herself down, hand on the mouse.

“You don’t have to be afraid to put your dream in action, you’re never gonna fade, you’ll be the main attraction…” Wishing she could remember who sang that song, Victoria moved the cursor towards one of Tammin’s Internet bookmarks, the gateway to fun for the next couple of hours. “…cause you know that if you’re living your imagination, tomorrow you’ll be everybody’s…”

She stopped the mouse before it got to the icon. Victoria hadn’t forgotten the words; she hadn’t forgotten anything. In fact, the name she’d spotted underneath one of the folders on Tammin Sursok’s desktop was one she would never, ever forget.

Victoria Justice sat there, staring at the folder marked “Mitra.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Biel had known she preferred girls from the moment she could walk; that wasn’t the only reason she had a sign on her bedroom door saying “No Boys Allowed,” but it certainly helped. She wasn’t a man-hater as such, no way – but she was glad that Ben was gone.

Not least because of the new girl. For a start, Vanessa Hudgens never did things like sending memos to the wrong office, and she didn’t go around harassing the other staffers – even though Ben had his brains in his pants rather than his head, it was the latter rather than the former that had ended up writing finis to his career in the FBI. When word got out about how he’d banged Rebel Wilson, no one had ever let him forget it. Especially the women; it might have been the naked fat women porn mags that someone (maybe someone whose name rhymed with “Blisten Well”) had put on his desk that tipped the scales, or it might not have been. Either way, goodbye and good riddance.

Ironically, the one person Ben had never tried to come on to was the one person Vanessa had her eyes on; she was the archetypal employee with a thing for the boss, but that was all it was… and as much fun as Beverley Mitchell was, Jessica had to admit it was a change to have someone who more or less knew her place in the food chain. And this morning the place was sitting next to her while she dictated a letter…

“…and surveillance of the Camdens is to continue for the foreseeable future. Yours, etc.,” she finished, pacing back and forth while Vanessa’s fingers took down the information for her superiors. “Two copies of that letter, please?”

“Right away, ma’am,” the stunning, almond-eyed young woman replied. “Would you like a refill?”

“That can keep,” Jessica answered, although she did want some fresh coffee. “I’ve got another message to ship out.”

“I’m all ears, ma’am,” Vanessa said, her fingers up and ready to get the words on the keyboard (that was another thing Ben sucked at).

“To Kara Wade,” Director Biel started, beginning to walk back and forth again. “Kara, regarding our communication of the 26th, I feel some more investigation is in order. The Hudgens girl shows promise after the disappointment of her predecessor, and I feel that given time, will be rewarded for the time and effort she puts into being competent, comprehensible… and…”

Jessica stopped still and returned the knowing expression, complete with raised eyebrow, that Vanessa was giving her.

“…and very sexy,” the boss finished.

Vanessa demurely set aside her transcribing materials, headed to the door and locked it, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at Jessica before she twitched the hem of her dress upwards, revealing some more of her silky thighs – the dress stopped a couple of inches above the knees.

Eyeing the boss knowingly, Vanessa lifted the dress further up, showing more of her legs – and a little more besides. She lived close enough that she could walk to work and luckily for her, if not for the men of San Francisco, it hadn’t been a windy day; the wind blowing up her dress would have shown off her lovely trimmed pussy to the world. Not that she’d have minded if anyone saw, but…

“I never break my word,” she cooed to the boss.

“No, you don’t,” Jessica agreed, fixing on Vanessa Hudgens’ snatch with laserlike accuracy as the secretary carefully removed her dress, draping it over the back of one of the chairs. She’d promised to go commando, and Jessica wished she’d extended it to the top half as well. Those boobs were excellent, too good to be held back by stupid stinking brassieres.

Vanessa leaned back against the door, a hand casually slipping down between her legs. She had her eyes half-closed; she wasn’t exactly a walking ego but she knew what she had, and she liked how it felt.  Jessica watched the secretary’s fingers spreading her pussylips open as the other hand slipped inside her top, unclipping the bra with practised ease and pulling it off her chest, sending it flying to the floor. Vanessa moaned as she fondled herself above and below; Jessica could not blame her. Seriously, if she had a body like that she’d get off on touching herself as well.

The boss’s eyes drifted down the sleekness of Vanessa’s form, watching her fingers playing with her gorgeous little box. Her middle finger was poking inside as the fingers on each side rubbed the lips, and Jessica wanted to be one of those fingers badly – she could feel her panties beginning to show the effect. She flicked her eyes to the left briefly, and noted to her relief that the intercom was switched off… the last thing she wanted was a repeat of the time she and then-neophyte Kristen Bell had 69’d and broadcast their orgasms to the whole office; some people STILL ragged Kristen about it (if not Director Biel – they knew what side their bread was buttered).

“Good thing I didn’t wear pants today,” Jessica commented, undoing her skirt and flinging it aside, noting how Vanessa’s eyes lit up on seeing the outline of her mound under the crisp (if starting to moisten) white panties. As the boss slid one hand under the edge of her underwear, the other started to undo her top; she pushed the middle finger inside her soaking, steaming crotch while she discarded the shirt, displaying her bra-clad rack.

The bra followed the shirt to the ground a moment later, and Jessica didn’t miss the way Vanessa’s eyes lit up on seeing those glorious chest orbs swaying free. Or how the fingers started to move faster between her legs – Vanessa dreamt about Jessica’s breasts often, but having them right in front of her was another thing. The boss began to play with the hardened nipples, tweaking each one in turn while her other hand thrust inside and out of her dripping snatch. The race was on.

“Mmm… uhhh…. Ooohh…” Jessica had a problem – she wanted to get these panties off,  but there was no way she could do it without ruining the rhythm. Oh, screw it – Jessica ripped them off with one quick jerk, leaving her naked except for her high heels. Just like those dancers the team had seen in LA, except maybe hotter, she allowed herself to think.

With her eyes twinkling and fingers fucking, Vanessa gently swayed her body as she turned, bending and thrusting her hindquarters up towards the boss as she kept sliding fingers in and out of her box. The smoothness of Vanessa’s behind (which was enough in itself to make her jealous – damn bumps) and the two orifices under it exposed right in her face was too much for Jessica Biel; gritting her teeth to keep from yowling, she let her breath out in short sharp spurts, unable to keep from looking at Vanessa’s privates. If it hadn’t been for this stupid conference call she’d have to take with other agency heads she’d have dropped to her knees and sucked that box till the cows came home… feeling her own pussy juice covering her fingers, she gave in to the power Vanessa had between her legs. It was all she could to keep from screaming – the door was thick but probably not THAT thick.

“Was I good?” Vanessa asked, still facing away and enjoying how she was revving herself up.

“You did good, baby,” Jessica panted. “And I got your prize… right here.”

The gorgeous black-haired woman looked over her shoulder, and was treated to the sight of Jessica Biel’s bare ass as the boss bent over the desk, with a very familiar device within reach. But the dildo didn’t have the shine that would come from it being pre-lubed, meaning that there’d be no coring of the director’s asshole this time. Still, Vanessa didn’t mind because a) anything that the boss wanted was just fine with her, and b) she sympathised because she herself didn’t like anal sex, as a receiver or as a giver. Which meant that if Jessica Biel had ordered her to fuck her ass till it bled, Vanessa would’ve done it under the rule of a).

Vanessa strapped it on quickly, impressed that it was in perfect proportion to her body – it wasn’t of Manuel Ferrara dimensions, but not a toothpick either. The secretary spread her fingers over the Biel buns, giving each a little pinch. Wow; how Jessica could keep from feeling herself up all day Vanessa would never know. She was so whootiful… now that was a term Vanessa had to remember to never use around Jessica in public. Still fondling her, the secretary dabbed the boss’s open, waiting snatch with the tip of the dildo. Touching it several times more and liking how Jessica’s body quivered with each little dab, Vanessa started to slide it in a fraction of an inch before moving it back out, starting to grind her own form as the probing continued.

Not for the first time, Vanessa envied men – it must be wonderful for them to be able to do this and really get an idea of what pussy felt like (though ironically they’d never know what Jessica Biel’s actually felt like). Still, until medical science made it possible for a woman to grow her own penis, this would have to do; Miss Hudgens pushed further up Jessica, moving her hands up the boss’s long, warm, strong back. She even had a sexy spine…as she thrust into the boss, Vanessa quickly leaned down and kissed it while her hands reached Jessica’s undone hair, fondling the wavy tresses. Pumping away with her breath coming in quick spurts, Vanessa began to grab the boss’s hair, holding it as hard as she could without yanking back painfully.

“Whoo… yes, V, yes yes YES…” Jessica began to buck forwards and backwards, feeling Vanessa’s body slamming against her and grinding into her cunt – on and on the woman pounded behind her, going deeper and faster with each movement. “C’mon girl, DO IT!!!”

Still holding Jessica’s hair with one hand, Vanessa slapped one of the boss’s sides with the other as if she was riding her… which she was. She slapped her again, whooping and screaming as she slid in and out of her at an increasing pace; the desk started to shake a little under their writhings and thrashings. Jessica’s fingers gripped the edge as her body heated up, howling as the girl steamed her snatch up… “OOOOOHHHHHHYES!!!!!!!!! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKYES!!!!!!!!!!!”

Vanessa’s screams were almost as loud as Jessica’s as she felt wave after wave of delight rushing through her body, with part of her almost wishing that Beverley Mitchell could see this; Agent Mitchell had given her the evil eye from day one, and Vanessa had replied in kind. She knew a suck-up when she saw one, when all she wanted to do was be the best she could be for her boss. She just hoped Jessica liked her better than Mitchell…

As Jessica felt Vanessa withdraw the now-sodden dildo, she felt something she hadn’t gotten from Beverley. As much as she’d enjoyed Agent Mitchell’s body, Jessica had never been convinced the ex-secretary hadn’t just been kissing her ass figuratively as well as literally; Vanessa here had no such ambitions. All she wanted to do was please her and do her job, and that was just how she liked it. Even though the dildo was so lubricated that it could have been popped up her back door no trouble, Jessica knew that Vanessa knew better than to try it – something she wasn’t entirely sure could be said for Beverley. No, Vanessa Hudgens was here to serve her in every way.

Jessica felt Vanessa’s lips lightly kissing her open, damp pussy. Nothing further, just a tender little kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I should be… thanking you,” Jessica replied as she gingerly turned around, smiling up at the gleaming, glowing girl.

“By the way… um…” Vanessa bit her lip, because this was embarrassing. She didn’t want to say what she had to say, but…

“Out with it,” Jessica said, still heaving.

“Do we have anything in petty cash? I’m a little short,” the secretary blurted. “I went to get some money out this morning and I had like 33 cents left, and I don’t know where all the cash went because I know I didn’t spend that much over the weekend…”

“How much do you need?” Jessica interrupted.

“About $400, just till pay day,” Vanessa replied. “I feel so… dirty… having to ask like this. My parents would kill me if they knew about this… never did it before…”

“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there,” Jessica assured her. “And one more thing…”

She picked up the discarded torn underwear, and handed it to Vanessa. “You earned it.”

The secretary kissed the boss as she slipped it into her dress;  Vanessa already had plans for it that evening.

* * * * * * * * *

Another car was parked near the apartment building. It was fairly big, enough to hold a family of five – which is exactly what it was used for most days. But Navi Rawat didn’t have any of her children with her this morning; this was business.

Hoping that her three boys weren’t giving the sitter any problems, she hefted the case she had with her and moved as casually as she could to the entrance – it wasn’t the most populous part of San Francisco, but she couldn’t help thinking people were watching her. And no matter how many times Troian had assured her the place had more ants than people, she still felt a little self-conscious. What if there were cops hiding behind that burnt-out car ready to spring out the second she knocked…?

She mentally slapped herself. This wasn’t “Numb3rs” or some crap cop show like that, this was real life – and in real life the cops weren’t always in the right place at the right time. The lovely EMT knocked three times, paused and then knocked a further four.

A few moments later, the door opened; it wasn’t flung aside but opened to give Navi just enough space to slip into the hideout. As Shay Mitchell shut it behind her, she smiled in relief at the newcomer.

“Sorry we had to do the secret knock thing,” Shay told her.

“You’ve got to be careful, I know,” Navi replied. “How are you all bearing up?”

“Bad,” the escapee admitted as they entered the apartment. “We’re trying not to lose it over Megan and Emma, but…”

“So you’re the famous Navi,” Roselyn smiled on seeing the woman.

“I see Hayden’s been spreading the word,” the EMT said as she took in Roselyn’s bullet wound, unsurprised to see that Miss Panettiere wasn’t in the room. The wound had been widened a little thanks to Roselyn’s self-cauterization and digging out of the bullet on arrival at the hideout, but the only alternative had been to leave it in there until they could have gotten some kind of professional help.

“Brought some more painkillers,” Navi continued, cleaning out the jagged hole in Roselyn’s arm. “And sutures.”

“Is it all right if I leave the room?” asked Blake. “That always grosses me out.”

“You could just look away,” Olivia pointed out. “That’s what I always do.”

“You’ll have to – you’re next,” Navi replied, getting the sterilized needle threaded and ready. “Want a little local anesthetic first, Miss Sanchez?”

“Call me Roselyn, and yes. Definitely,” the leader admitted.

Both Blake and Shay kept their eyes elsewhere as Navi sewed up Roselyn’s arm – she wasn’t exactly Florence Nightingale, but it would do the job provided Roselyn didn’t do anything particularly stupid over the next few days. “Sorry I’m all out of lollipops… maybe next time?” she added, tying it off.

“Lemon, please,” Roselyn smiled.

“And now let’s take care of your friend,” Navi continued briskly as Olivia dispensed with her dress – Troian and JoAnna had brought each of them one change of costume to give them a break from their prison duds. Under normal circumstances, getting a chance to see Olivia’s long legs would have been a treat, but these weren’t normal circumstances; she’d taken a bullet in the upper thigh, and digging it out of her had not been fun – the woman had wailed while Roselyn removed it and the others held on to her as she thrashed around. Olivia had begged them to leave it until they could see a doctor, but Roselyn had told her the longer they left it in the worse it would be; Olivia had snapped that it was HER leg, not theirs, but she was overruled. And sweary.

Now Olivia lay back down, aware that some of them were probably envious of her right now – even under these circumstances, having a foxy dusky woman between their legs wasn’t something to sneeze at. As Navi gently wiped the gaping wound on the inside of the patient’s leg, Olivia could tell she was paying entirely too much attention to the job; while a good thing, it was almost as if she didn’t dare look up… like if she did, she might like what she saw outlined through Olivia’s panties.

“You can look up,” Olivia assured her. “It won’t bite, and I don’t mind.”

“But I do,” the EMT replied, as she finished disinfecting her. “I already sowed my woman-to-woman oats… I’ve got a good man and three kids, and I don’t cheat.”

Olivia could see where Navi was coming from, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy feeling her fingers touching the flesh before she began to close up the wound. It wasn’t as big as Roselyn’s but it still had to be stitched (not Olivia’s idea of fun, because she liked needles the way Elton John liked girls). Clenching her teeth, she tried to imagine Navi’s fingers moving up her legs for reasons not involving needles…

“Maybe I could drop by for a drink or something when this is all over?” she suggested airily, or as airily as she could with the needle pulling the surgical thread through her skin.

“No can do,” said Navi. “If Leon ever finds out he’d ask a whole bunch of questions. Hang on, it’s almost done…”

She tied the suture off and cut the needle away. “Hayden still swear a lot when I’m mentioned?”

“She’s quietened down now,” Roselyn replied.

“She asleep? Probably the only way I’d get to check her arm,” Navi reflected.

“The bandages and painkillers seem to work just fine for her,” said Olivia.

“But she’s resting now,” Blake added. “It’s best to just leave her.”

“All right,” Navi sighed. “I just wish she’d let it go though… now as long as Olivia and Roselyn don’t do anything rough, it should be fine.”

“No chance of us running around the place soon,” Olivia lied.

As long as Megan and Emma were in Rhona’s care, there was every chance of it.

* * * * * * * * *

Hayden was on her bed, but she wasn’t asleep.

She’d heard Navi come in and talk to the others while she was doing her thing. Part of her knew that Navi didn’t have any bad feelings towards her, but part of her just couldn’t get past… the past. The blonde’s body was screaming to let the EMT check her arm, but her mind would not let her do it.

She just had to grin and bear it – it wasn’t gangrenous or anything like that, it was just a weakened arm. And she didn’t need both arms to deal with Ashley Benson, no sir.

Hayden clenched her good hand and punched the mattress.

* * * * * * * * * *

“The family of Scarlett Johansson, one of the two guards hospitalized in the wake of the Remy Hadley breakout, have offered a reward of $50,000 for information leading to the capture of the seven escaped convicts,” Ashley Benson told Channel 7 viewers. “This comes not long after the family of head guard Cate Blanchett, who was shot during the escape, placed a bounty for the same amount. Johansson and Blanchett’s conditions remain critical.”

Scarlett and Cate’s faces accompanied Ashley’s voice as Victor Thomas, watching at home, kept a hand on the remote control. This wasn’t a euphemism; he was waiting for the report to end so he could switch the channel – which he wouldn’t have done if Hayden Panettiere was still working there.

“Just what *is* causing money to vanish all over the City by the Bay? Our look at the cash crisis hitting bank customers – hopefully not including you,” Ashley said with a little professionally reassuring smile, “after the break.”

“Not including YOU, you mean,” Victor muttered, bringing up Channel 5. He didn’t believe for a second Ashley was concerned about anything but her own welfare – or that Hayden had really been the San Francisco Eight’s lookout. Maybe it was because he was biased, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Ashley had had something to do with it; he’d never liked her the way he liked Hayden. And he knew he’d never have a chance with her even if his girlfriend hadn’t been the one to tell her Hayden liked girls.

Luckily, Kate Mara was the kind of girlfriend who was understanding about her guy’s fantasies. Equally luckily, she didn’t care for Ashley Benson any more than he did; personality and ego of Asia proportions aside, Kate had had it in for Ashley ever since she’d gotten her friend Katy fired. The woman had never really bounced back from losing her job – she had disappeared some time later, and no one seemed to know where she was. Kate and Victor still hoped Katy Bailey hadn’t done something terrible to herself, but the longer she was gone the more likely it was. And it was all Ashley’s fault, and she didn’t care…

As Channel 5’s news began after the break, Victor forced himself to stop thinking about Ashley and cheer himself up – to start to think about Hayden. And Kate.

Or Hayden AND Kate.

Had anyone been in the room with him and spotted what was happening in his jeans, they would see that this was having the desired effect.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emma Roberts didn’t know anything.

She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious after that little run-in at the hospital, she didn’t know where Megan was, and right down she didn’t know where SHE was. Oh, it wasn’t like they were in the hands of the cops unless they’d gotten one hell of an upgrade; the surroundings weren’t bad – she was in a room that was way bigger than the one she had in the hideout, and the bed she was on was a lot more comfortable. Even if she had been handcuffed to the head of it while out cold.

Coughing as she glanced at the table on the side of the bed, Emma spotted a variety of pills, a bottle of water, two boxes of Kleenex and some cartons of orange juice. She let herself crack a half-smile; whoever had them wherever they were, they obviously needed them intact for the moment. She could have used something now, but these stupid hands…

How about that. The door on the other side of the expanse that was her room opened, ushering in the kind of nurse Emma had always wanted – a beautiful green-eyed blonde with a cheerful look on her face. Only the excess of clothes got in the way of her being the healthcare provider of her dreams.

“Hi!” she beamed at the safecracker.

“Hi yourself, Miss…”

“Hannah Davis,” the “nurse” answered, with a slight curtsy as she came bedside. “But you can call me Hannah – my mistress put me in charge of you as long as you and your friend are here. Did you sleep well?”

“Thanks to that chloroform? Yeah,” Emma replied as Hannah poured out some of the juice, dropped a few of the pills into the drink and stirred the whole thing together.

“Sorry about the restraints,” the blonde said apologetically. “She doesn’t want to take chances. Sit up a little… that’s great.”

“Where’s Megan?”

“Your friend’s next door – I think she’s still asleep. Now drink up, you’re not out of the woods yet.”

As Hannah put the glass to Emma’s lips, it occurred to her that the nurse hadn’t said who “she” was. But as the first gulps of OJ went down her throat, Emma realised that she didn’t have to ask – she already knew.

* * * * * * * * * *

Megan Fox awoke naked, face down in a pile of pillows, one arm handcuffed to the headboard. It was hardly the first time this had happened to her in her life, and short of waking up handcuffed to a farm animal or some kind of sex robot, she normally would’ve shaken it off and just gotten on with her day. There were cars to steal, deals to be made, and hot boys and girls to have sex with.

Except, she hadn’t stolen a lot of cars lately. Having been stuck in prison for 6 months would do that to a girl, she reasoned. But she’d also never woken up naked and handcuffed in prison.

Her mind was foggy, and she had some aches she couldn’t quite explain. Neither of those were particularly unusual, either, except this wasn’t a hangover, and she didn’t think she’d gotten laid last night.

Last night? Had a whole night past already? She couldn’t quite…

The hospital! Emma! Memory came flooding back to Megan, and she sprung up, nearly leaping off the bed until her arm yanked her back on it, thanks to the handcuffs. She swore, mostly because now her shoulder ached, and turned to face the headboard, looking around to see if she could spot a key.

“You won’t find one,” a voice said. Megan turned around, making no effort to cover her nudity – someone had chained her up completely naked, they’d seen everything she had to offer. No reason to be modest now. The voice belonged to a lovely brown haired woman clad in a classic French maid’s outfit, complete with white frill and fishnet stockings. She stood by a door Megan hadn’t spotted earlier, and carried a tray with what looked like a tea set upon it.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Hannah Davis,” the woman said, approaching. “And I’m afraid you’re going to be cuffed to that bed for a while.”

“Rhona doesn’t want me going anywhere, huh?” Megan asked, having already guessed who grabbed her and Emma. “What about my friend?”

“She’s okay, I just got done looking in on her earlier. Her injuries and illness are being looked at.”

“Awfully kind of Rhona,” Megan said.

“Mistress Mitra is prone to kindness,” Hannah said. “Tea?”

“Sure, fine, whatever,” Megan said, turning around to sit as comfortably as she could on the bed with her arm still stuck. Hannah came and poured a cup right in front of Megan, and the erstwhile car thief took a tentative sip. “Is that mint?”

“Just a bit, yes,” Hannah said. “I find it helps me wake up.”

Megan just sipped it quietly for a minute. Finally, she had to ask. “So, when do I see Rhona?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said.

“Because she’s not keeping me alive, chained to a bed all naked and rape-ready for nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said again.

“If she was going to kill me, she’d have done it already, so I assume she wants something from me.”

“That seems reasonable, ma’am,” Hannah said.

“Don’t call me ma’am, I steal for a living,” Megan said.

“What would you like me to call you?”

“Megan works.”

“Well then, Megan, would you care for a sponge bath?”

“Sponge bath?” Megan asked.

“Yes, Megan,” Hannah said. “Mistress Mitra prefers her guests be as comfortable as possible, even when here against their will. I’m not allowed to uncuff you, but I can help you clean up.”

Megan gave Hannah a once-over. She was quite attractive. “Do I get to give you one in return?”

Hannah smiled at her. “Perhaps later. I’m told to have you ready sooner rather than later.”

“I can do quickies,” Megan offered, even as Hannah put the tea set aside and stood up.

“I don’t,” Hannah said, turning to give Megan a sultry look. “I prefer my lovemaking to be long and powerful. I’ve spent HOURS going down on a woman before, and I’ve made men wear off their Viagra before I’ve been satisfied with them.”

Megan had to swallow hard all of a sudden, and she was uncomfortably warm between her legs.

“I’ll go get the water for your bath.”

“Okay,” Megan said, her voice barely a whisper. Hannah disappeared out the door, and for a long moment, Megan could do nothing but imagine Hannah’s head between her legs, licking away for hours and hours. She had to shake her head to break the imagery, because a moment later Hannah returned with a bucket of warm water and a couple of washcloths.

“You sure you don’t want to get undressed? I’d hate for you to get that outfit all wet,” Megan said as Hannah sat down on the bed next to her.

“Tempting, but I have my orders,” Hannah said, wetting a cloth and running it down Megan’s arm. The warm water felt good, and for a few minutes, Megan laid off trying to get into Hannah’s panties and let the other girl clean her. But as Hannah got around to washing her breasts, Megan could help but try again.

“Mmmm, you’re so gentle. How can I thank you-”

“You can thank her, Megan, by shutting up and taking it like a champ,” a smarmy British voice said from the door. Megan turned to look and felt her gut tighten. Standing there in the doorway, holding a long pink, flexible dildo, was Rosie Huntington-Whiteley.

“Rosie!” Megan said, surprised. “W-what are you-”

“Rhona sent me to… question you,” Rosie said, sauntering into the room. She wore a flowery summer dress and giant sunglasses that she took off and left on the bedside table. The look in her eye was hungry, and Megan knew she was in for trouble – trouble she might not survive.

“Rosie, please, there’s gotta-”

“Hush, luv,” Rosie said, putting a finger on Megan’s lips. “There’s no talking me out of this.” She glanced at Hannah. “Make sure you wash her crotch thoroughly. I like my toys clean before I dirty them up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah said, moving to start washing between Megan’s legs.

“You look lovely, Megan. Scrapes and bruises aside, the time in prison hasn’t done you any harm.”

“Rosie, please, can’t we just talk?” Megan asked. She’d slept with Rosie before, knew the kinds of things that got Rhona Mitra’s girlfriend off. She also knew how deadly the waif-ish girl could be. Despite her prim and proper demeanor, Rosie could be even deadlier than Jamie Pressly.

“Oh, I do so hate a chatty bird in bed, Megs,” Rosie said, reaching over to gently tweak one of Megan’s nipples. “I think maybe I’ll just fuck the answers I need out of you.” With that, she undid the belt around her waist, and her dress fell open. Rosie hadn’t bothered with underwear of any kind, and as the dress hit the floor, she was naked save for her shoes, which she kicked off in good measure. Still holding the large dildo, she climbed up onto the bed and straddled Megan.

“Please, Rosie-” Megan tried one last time, but Rosie silenced her with a kiss – and a pinch on the nipple.

“Tut-tut, luv. I’m going to ask you questions, you’re going to answer. Answer correctly, and I please you. Refuse to answer, and I use you to please me. Lie to me… well, I’ll still enjoy it, but you most certainly won’t.”

And with that, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley sank three fingers into Megan Fox’s snatch, and the interrogation began.

“Why did you leave Grace and Jaime behind?” Rosie demanded, sliding her fingers in and out rapidly, forcefully fucking the car thief.

“Ugh! Ah! Grace betrayed us!” Megan called out. “She was working for Rhona!”

Rosie slapped Megan across the face. Hard. “And Jaime?”

“She was a homicidal BITCH,” Megan snapped back. “Your type of girl.”

That earned Megan another slap. A hard one. But at the same time, Rosie pushed the dildo in and twisted it, eliciting a wave of pleasure inside Megan’s hungry pussy.

“Besides Emma, are any of the others sick?” Rosie asked, her voice a husky whisper in Megan’s ear.

“Roselyn’s got laryngitis, Blake found some poison ivy, and we’re pretty sure Hayden’s suffering from a nasty case of erectile dysfunc-” The slap this time was hard enough to make the corner of Megan’s mouth bleed.

“No lying,” Rosie said, reaching down and pinching Megan’s clit. Hard.

“OUCH!” Megan cried out. Rosie didn’t seem to care.

“Now shall we try this again, or am I really going to have to hurt you?” the Englishwoman asked.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tammin Sursok had a surprise waiting for her when she got home – the smell of food cooking.

Some nights she made herself something, but more often she settled for takeout or for ringing up Papa John’s or whoever; and here was her apartment filled with the smell of fettuccine with chicken, accompanied by singing from chef Victoria Justice.

“How’s my hard-working woman?” Victoria asked cheerfully on seeing Tammin.

“Surprised,” the agent replied. “And grateful – you didn’t have to do that.”

“It was my turn, and I didn’t want to hang around the place doing nothing,” said Victoria, kissing her.

“I’m warning you, I make Popeye’s seem like Wolfgang Puck,” Tammin laughed as she headed off to change.

Once she’d donned shorts and a T-shirt (and did a little bit of a wash), she returned to be greeted by the sight of the table set with glasses, lemonade and two plates laden with yumminess. Victoria was seated, looking up at Tammin as if she couldn’t wait to dig in; but the FBI agent part of her saw a little hesitancy in her eyes, as if there was something bothering her.

“Dig in,” she said amiably.

“That’s what it’s there for…” Tammin’s mouth was filled with food in a second, and her face lit up. She gave Victoria the thumbs-up as she munched.

“So any more trouble at work?” Victoria asked as she began to eat.

“No more than usual; no closer to cleaning up the streets of San Francisco than we were yesterday. Any problems?”

“The guy who lives below me keeps playing his music too loud but other than that…”

Victoria’s voice tailed off, as Tammin saw the hesitancy again. Immediately she knew there was something on the young woman’s mind that went beyond loud neighbours, but she also knew that turning on the hard-edged investigator was the wrong approach. And really, how bad could it be?

“Spit it out, Victoria,” Tammin said gently.

“There’s nothing wrong-“

“There is. You can tell me – I won’t get mad.”

“All right,” said the black-haired lass. “I was on your computer today…”

“And you were looking for porn, right?” Tammin asked sympathetically. “I’m not gonna throw you out for that – done it myself more times than I can count.”

“Almost wish it was porn.” Victoria hesitated again before she decided to just come out with it.

“Why are you checking up on my old boss? Is it because of Vorderman?”

Tammin almost choked on her fettuccine. There was only one Vorderman she could think of – Carol Vorderman, one of the biggest drug dealers in San Francisco, if not the entire state. And here was this cutie asking if her boss was involved… she swallowed her food, getting a grip on herself.

“Who exactly was your boss, Victoria?”

“Her name’s Rhona Mitra,” the ex-stripper replied. “I was going to play some Candy Crush and I saw you had a folder with her last name on it…”

“So you used to work for her?” asked the agent, trying to keep herself in check.

“Yeah. She had me join in with Vorderman for one of her threeways. Wasn’t the first time either. Didn’t want to especially after I saw them-“ Victoria stopped.

“Saw them doing what? Relax, the place isn’t bugged.”

“I know, but…” Victoria waved a hand around uneasily. “I’m kind of scared.”

“Of who? Me?” asked Tammin.

“Of Rhona,” said the lass. “I think she’s doing some stuff on the side. More than that folder had.”

Tammin normally wasn’t fond of people going through her computer stuff, but this was an exception to the rule. “Like what stuff?” she asked gently, cloaking the FBI side of her in all the velvet she could muster.

“Well, business wasn’t that great even before you guys showed up,” Victoria replied. “But we always got paid in full and on time, week in week out.”

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

“I know, and it’s not like I *want* to have someone come and say ‘Sorry, it’ll be a little late this week,’ but I keep expecting that to happen. Never did, not even when we had days when no one was watching us but the roaches. I think some of the customers we had to… um… entertain after hours had something to do with it.”

“Go on,” Tammin said gently, forgetting all about the food as she leant in closer to Victoria.

* * * * * * * * * *

This had turned out to be one of the best nights of Billy Kruger’s life; he’d done that little favour for Megan because he still had warm feelings for her… rack. And once he’d delivered to that sexy Ashley Benson, it was time for him to meet up with another blonde to get what was coming to him… the money, of course, all in cash.

The delivery was something extra; an English blonde with bee-stung lips and great legs, small boobs but screw it. Never one to resist an opportunity, Billy had invited her in for a drink… or two… or five.  Then he forgot all about drinks in favour of fondling Rosie Huntington-Whiteley’s heart-shaped ass (no panties had she on, making it even better), while she kissed his face and neck as if she inexplicably hadn’t gotten any for a while.

Rosie’s fingers had slithered down to his crotch while she asked him how badly he wanted her.

“Bad,” he’d admitted.

“How bad?” Rosie had asked. “Bad enough for me to do anything to you?”

“Yeah,” Billy had replied.

The “anything” had proven to be Rosie tying him up with leather thongs practically the moment they had arrived at “her” place (“I forgot to bring my goodies with me,” she’d explained) – for someone with arms like twigs this girl was way strong, and he surprised himself by being afraid to move for fear the leather would cut into him.

“Now, how does this sound?” Rosie had asked, standing over his naked body while she was still fully-dressed and dangling a cane. “You keep quiet while I tickle you with this and I pull off a piece of this,” she’d added, indicating her clothes.

Rosie’s tickling had been around his genitals, and had been more like whipping; it was a testament to how smoking hot she was that he’d let his package take everything she dished out. True to her word, she’d taken off one piece of clothing for every strike that was followed by silence, and the more of her lithe form on display the more Billy was determined to be quiet. Finally the slim blonde was naked above him, allowing him a look at her shaven snatch open over his face and distracting him from his throbbing-in-a-bad-way penis.

“Good boy,” she’d said with a smile. “You’ve earned this.”

Billy’s aching package was soon being salved by Rosie’s hungry mouth; she was so good, it was as if the punishment had never happened. He’d gotten some good ones from Megan for sure, but Rosie was the best, plus her fingers were sliding up his chest. Still tied up, he was looking forward to when she’d stop sucking and start riding… she could do anything she wanted to him, and even if he did have a choice he’d just let it happen.

Rosie’s practised hands moved over his upper body and the thongs around it, looking for one particular one that was a bit looser than the others; one that was draped around his throat. As she sucked harder, listening to his gurgles of delight and feeling his body starting to jerk under him while the spunk shot into her mouth, she found that particular one and pulled it tighter…

“Whoops,” the blonde giggled as she licked the late Billy’s cum from her lips. “Should’ve given you the danger word.”

Yep, this had been one of the best nights of Billy Kruger’s life – she liked it when they went out on a high.

* * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t just JoAnna’s personal life that was better six months later; she’d been taken off the front lines at SFUB. Goodbye dealing with customers of varying mental agility, hello working behind the scenes in an actual office higher up the food chain. Yes, things were going just fine for JoAnna Garcia.

“No, no, no, no NO!!!” JoAnna frantically tapped on her keyboard, grinding her teeth in frustration. “C’mon, not NOW…”

“Would it kill them to upgrade us to stuff actually made this century?” her colleague Jennifer Finnigan asked.

“If they did, Resources wouldn’t have a job,” JoAnna replied, picking up her desk phone and dialling a number. “Hope they won’t keep me waiting for hours this time.”

“You should live so long,” the blonde laughed as JoAnna waited for the other side to answer.

“Oh, hi! It’s JoAnna Garcia up in customer services; my PC’s playing up real bad this time… Yeah, that again…”

* * * * * * * * * *

“How’s it going apart from that?” said the woman from Resources. “Mmm-hmmm… got the message. We’ll have someone up in about half an hour… We’re really busy here, half an hour’s the best we can do… All right, all right, thanks.”

“She knows who you are,” Shay Mitchell told Roselyn Sanchez as “the woman from Resources” hung up. “Why not just say any old thing?”

“Method acting?” Roselyn chuckled, as she dialled another number.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Chastain liked nothing better in the mornings than to be relaxing with a good book – something to do with the arts, preferably. The toothy but strangely sexy redhead sat back on her hammock, enjoying all the wonderful Gallic artwork on display and taking her time turning the pages; this kind of thing could not be rushed.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever,” Jessica sighed, running an index finger over the naked French rugby player, one of a whole variety of fit Frenchmen in their birthday suits that the photobook had nothing but. If there was one complaint she had, it was that some of them had their packages hidden – but then again, size queen Jessica Chastain knew from experience that big guys didn’t always have big… well, you know. And it was only SOME of them.

Turning the page, her lovely mouth gaped to see that the gentleman over the next two pages wasn’t shy at all – no wonder he needed two pages.

“Vive la France,” she whispered, and lowered her lips to kiss the rod on display – as the phone rang.

“I’ll be back,” Jessica told the picture, and rolled off the hammock to get the phone.

“Howdy!”

“Is that the help?” Roselyn Sanchez asked.

“Ready, willing and able,” Jessica replied, almost forgetting about naked French sportsmen – this spy stuff with all the code phrases was fun.  “So JoJo’s all set?”

“Yeah, but don’t go racing there right now; JoAnna said it’ll look more convincing if you keep her waiting a while, like you really work at Resources.”

“Sounds like a plan – 20 minutes before I leave should do it. I’ve got something I want to do anyway.”

“Right. Oh, and Jessica…?” Roselyn asked.

“Shoot,” Jessica said.

“My girls and I all want to lick up your legs.”

“Thanks,” replied the redhead, looking at said legs. “You might just get your chance… call back when it’s done. Later!”

Hanging up the phone, Jessica took another look at her legs in the mirror – and at everything else in the mirror, since she wasn’t wearing anything. These tech people didn’t pride themselves on their appearance so she wouldn’t have to take too long to get dressed, but first things first… her eyes went back to the book. And what a book it was – she’d never bothered to learn any language but English, but if ever pictures were worth thousands of words these were.

As the redhead started to turn the pages again, she imagined herself in whatever the French term for “locker room” was, standing there in her birthday suit ready to welcome the conquering heroes after they’d thrashed their opponents – several gleaming, sweaty men looking for their reward. In fact she could see those muscular gods streaming into the room and peeling their uniforms off, a few of them pairing off with each other… well, these were Frenchmen, and it was to be expected that some of them would be too interested in each other to care about what she had, but there would still be more than enough for her. And the men who liked men were the least attractive ones there by far (it was her fantasy, they were her rules).

“Hey guys,” Jessica said without bothering to try and put on an accent, “ready to celebrate?”

The next instant Jessica Chastain was being swamped by a mass of horny Gallic rugby players – there wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t being pawed by somebody. She was proud of her large mouth and its ability to take in two members as huge as the ones that were thrust into it; as she began to suck eagerly, she felt a whole army of tongues and hands all over her porcelain body. Rack, legs, rump, you name it someone was lavishing himself on it; all these men trying their damnedest to empty themselves inside her. Never mind the four guys off to themselves (Jessica Chastain was a fair-minded woman, who believed gay men deserved to have their fun), this was all she needed to use up the 20 or so minutes until she had to get to the Union Bank.

She could have read something of course, but what was the fun in that?

* * * * * * * * * *

“BJ, get this. BJ, get that,” Tammin Sursok muttered as she pulled her car out of the San Fran FBI parking lot. She’d been a full field agent for too long to still be doing coffee runs and picking up Jessica Biel’s dry cleaning. Especially since Biel had a sexy little new secretary who could  be doing these menial tasks instead.

Of course, it was probably because that Vanessa Hudgens was so sexy that Jessica had dry cleaning in the first place.

Well, Tammin couldn’t complain too much, could she? She had a smoking hot girlfriend of her own now, a legitimate former stripper with the killer body to go with it. Heck, if any of Tammin’s clothes were worth all that much, she’d probably have increased dry cleaning bills, too. Which reminded her, she needed new underwear – Victoria was a little too quick on the ripping them off action. It was sexy as hell and the first time Tammin had nearly creamed herself right then and there, but now it was getting expensive. Cheaper thongs were required, she guessed.

Though that brought up another thought – Victoria. All alone back in the apartment, probably bored. Lounging about in those little cut-off jean shorts of hers that were so small, the pockets hung below the frayed leggings that barely covered her ass. All alone and horny, counting the seconds until Tammin got home and ravished her but good.

Tammin checked her GPS – her apartment was just a little too far away to swing by and  claim the delay was traffic related. Maybe there was some sort of hold up at the dry cleaners…

* * * * * * * * * *

“Have no fear, Resources is here!”

“Better late than never,” JoAnna said with a convincing mix of relief and miffedness as Jessica Chastain strolled into the office.

“Got to admit I’m surprised we don’t get called out here more often,” the newcomer continued. “All those people getting their money taken out…”

“Tell me about it,” Jennifer said. “I’m checking my own account like every hour just to be sure.”

“How long is this going to take?” asked JoAnna.

“With this prehistoric thing, who knows?” the other redhead replied.

“I got something I have to talk to Hart about anyway… treat him nice,” JoAnna said, catching herself before she finished that sentence with “Jessica” and tipped off Jennifer that she knew who this woman from Resources who she shouldn’t have met before was.

“You name your machines? How sweet,” Jessica smiled as she took JoAnna’s chair.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kat Dennings sat at her desk, waiting for her FBI computer to run through another program to find out how these hackers were draining everyone’s funds without notice. She was beyond the programming stage and was literally waiting while her under-powered system checked nearly a million transactions over the last 3 days. If she had access to some of the super-crays they had in DC, she’d be done already, but the FBI had other fish to fry and a long line of nerds hoping the super computers could solve their crimes.

So Kat sat at her desk, idly playing with a couple of action figures while she waited.

“’Oh, Sif, thank you for saving me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’”

“’Tis’ nothing, Jane Foster. I swore an oath to Thor that I would protect you, and that I shall.’”

“’I feel totally safe in your arms, Sif. Safer even than when I with Thor.’”

“’A woman as smart as you is a precious thing, Jane Foster. Thor is a lucky man.’”

“’A lucky man who doesn’t know how to treat a woman right.’”

“’Nonsense! He’s never been anything but honorable to you!’”

“’But sometimes a woman needs more than just honor. Sometimes, a woman needs love.’”

“’I could love you, Jane Foster. That is, as a woman loves another woman.’”

“’Oh, Sif! Please! Take me Sif! Take me and make me your woman!’”

Kat was just starting to press the two action figures together for a kiss when her computer beeped.

“Damnit,” she grumbled, putting down her toys and picking up her phone. She dialed Jessica Biel, who was waiting for these results. Surprisingly, it took a moment for the local FBI field director to pick up.

“Biel,” Jessica answered, out of breath.

“Latest round of hacks didn’t work, either, boss,” Kat reported. Biel moaned quietly at that. “I can try again, but it took three days just to come up with that series, and anything new will take longer.”

“W-we can’t wait that l-l-long,” Jessica stammered, her breath still ragged.

“Are you okay, Boss?”

“Oh I’m good. I’m so, so, SO good,” Jessica said. “Do you have any other ideas?”

“I could run bank-by-bank, look into various irregularities or odd deposits or anything.”

“I’ve already got a team of junior agents doing that. They’ve got nothing so far.”

“Yeah, but they’re looking at the actual money involved, right? I’d be looking at the computer systems at the time of the irregularities and seeing if something might have changed.”

“Oh fuck,” Jessica hissed. “O-okay, Kat. Do that. Right there. Oh yes, right there.”

“Boss?”

“I’ll send Vanessa over with the dates and info in ten minutes.” There was a long pause. “Make that fifteen.”

“Okay,” Kat said, hanging up. Suddenly, she knew that Vanessa had been between Jessica’s legs that entire time. Dejected, Kat rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She had nothing to do for fifteen minutes now. Probably longer. She was tempted to run to the bathroom and imagine Vanessa had been between her legs, but decided against it. Knowing her luck, Vanessa would walk into the bathroom just as Kat was calling out her name, and she’d get all upset like that Daniella Sarahyba girl had the last time Kat had dared to masturbate at work.

“I so need a girlfriend,” she grumbled, picking up her action figures. If she wasn’t going to get some, at least Sif and Jane Foster could…

* * * * * * * * * *

Once the secretary let JoAnna through she knocked on the door of Mr. Hart’s office, mentally telling herself that she could do this and praying that she hadn’t been misreading him all this time. Part of her almost hoped she had – he really was not her type, or possibly anybody’s (wife notwithstanding).

“C’mon in.”

Well, he sounded cheerful – that was a start. JoAnna entered, smile at the ready.

“Ummm, Mr. Hart…”

“So, what can I do for you?” the man asked, smiling back at her and demonstrating the kind of teeth normally associated with stereotyped Brits.

Suggestions involving dentists and Ultra-Brite rushed to the forefront of JoAnna’s mind, but she beat them back to widen her own smile as she walked towards him. “Actually, it’s more like what I can do for YOU,” she replied, lowering her voice in what Jason regarded as a sexy manner.

“Come again?” Mr. Hart asked, the expression in his eyes suggesting he had an idea what she was talking about.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” JoAnna continued. “You don’t do that to the other ones, except for that intern who got fired.”

“Well, she was pretty useless,” the boss admitted. “Beautiful, but useless…”

“And I haven’t forgotten the time you touched my behind,” the redhead added.

“That was an accident… you’re not going to sue, are you?” Mr. Hart swallowed. He could see it all – JoAnna leading him on, teasing him and then springing the lawyers on him…

“It was an accident, yes. But…” JoAnna winked. “But I wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t.”

There went his eyes, straight down. She knew they were checking out her legs, and she didn’t mind for once. Good thing she was wearing something that covered up her chest, or he’d have gone roaming her body even more than he was now.

“Miss Garcia…”

“Call me JoAnna. Or Jojo,”  she said.

“JoAnna… um, it’s very flattering, but…” Mr. Hart forced himself not to try and imagine JoAnna’s breasts under her top. “You’re in a relationship, and I’m a married man.”

“Yes, but I haven’t really been getting much out of it lately. Not the way I’d like,” JoAnna replied, sitting on the edge of his desk and casually crossing her legs, giving him some more upper thigh to check out. “And as for you… well, I’ve seen Mrs. Hart.”

Even though Mr. Hart wasn’t about to divorce his wife, he had to admit she did have a point; it had been a long time since they’d had sex without his summoning up somebody more attractive… somebody ACTUALLY attractive… to get him through it.

“Maybe we could both get what we want?” JoAnna asked, smiling coyly.

Mr. Hart pressed the button on his desk that automatically locked the office door, and returned the smile.

* * * * * * * * * *

Victoria wasn’t wearing those shorts Tammin loved. No, the young stripper wasn’t wearing any pants at all, and has lounging about the room in nothing but a bathrobe, her shapely legs up on the couch as she watched trashy daytime TV while eating a bowl of ice cream.

“Hey! You’re home early,” Victoria said with a bright smile as Tammin stepped in and ran her eyes over the younger girl.

“I’m just stopping in, but I have to have you.” Tammin stepped in, shucking her own pants without even closing the door behind her. Victoria’s eyes went wide, but she had just enough time to undo the sash on her robe before Tammin fell atop her, hungrily mauling the younger girl’s tits.

“Oh, TAMMIN!” Victoria cried out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Chastain had one eye on the screen she was checking and the other on the rest of the area, the better to bring up the window she was supposed to have open – the one showing all the programmes on JoAnna’s PC – the second anyone got within hovering distance. Even though JoAnna was in a cubicle of her own, and even though Operation Distraction was in full effect, you couldn’t be too careful.

What she was doing now was going back in time, about seven or eight months. Specifically, to the day of the big robbery; JoAnna had told her what Roselyn passed on about the little present Rhona had given her to put into the system, and it was her job to find out just what that little present was. Whatever it was, it can’t have been a standard virus or it would have been noticed by the safeguards in place at the time. Meaning Rhona had some damn good computer people in her corner, other than the Asian babe they’d left behind obviously.

“You really need to upgrade these things, people,” Jessica muttered as the search through the files took longer than it really should have. If she had time, she could debug it for JoAnna – the least she could do given what she was up to now.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Ugh, I can’t stand it,” Kat grumbled. Where the hell was Vanessa with that information? How long did it take Jessica to screw her secretary, anyway? Giving up, Kat pulled open her own access to the various banking systems in town and made sure she could access any of them she wanted. That took a couple of minutes, but getting there just made Kat all the more impatient.

She couldn’t wait any longer. Every time she stopped, she imagined Vanessa’s sexy little head in Jessica’s lap, and her own long span between lays seemed even longer. If those two were too busy tossing each other’s salad, Kat would just have to start without the information.

All she needed was a date and a bank to start with. Some odd event to look into.

Well, there hadn’t been any odder event than the whole SF8 robbery, and that was definitely before these hacks started. Seemed like as good a place to being as any.

With a few key strokes, Kat Dennings started to look back into the San Fran Union Bank’s records.

* * * * * * * * * *

“It’s too bad we’re at work now,” Mr. Hart told JoAnna with regret as he folded her into his arms. “We could go a lot farther if I didn’t have to worry about people seeing you walking funny.”

Thank goodness for small favours. JoAnna summoned up enough acting ability to convey a bit of sorrow as she traced a finger down his extremely well-padded front. “We can still have some fun though, right, Mr. Hart?” she asked, kissing his neck and unzipping his trousers.

“Call me Monty,” said Mr. Hart, returning the kiss.

JoAnna was distracted from his garlic breath by what she was holding – one drunken girls’ night out Jennifer had complained that it was always the cute guys who had cocks the size of needles and the gross ones who were hauling around rolling pins in their pants. Of course, the law of averages demanded there be exceptions, but Montgomery Hart wasn’t one of them; JoAnna didn’t have to pretend to be impressed by how hung he was.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Why couldn’t Lois be like that?” Mr. Hart replied, sounding pleased. “She’s like ‘Yeah, you’ve got a penis, so what?’”

“You certainly do, Mr. Ha- Monty.”

“Before you start, I’d really love something else from you.”

“Name it,” said JoAnna, kissing his stomach.

“Take off your clothes – I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to see you naked again…”

JoAnna almost told him she guaranteed he never would, but the longer she kept him occupied the more chance of his not going walkabout and seeing Jessica Chastain. As she rose and began to undress, she was just glad he wasn’t peeling them off; as each piece of clothing was removed she carefully placed it on a chair on the other side of the desk, happy to see his hands kept firmly away from his prick and noting with not a little pride that it was getting longer and harder the more of her body was revealed.

“Any complaints?” JoAnna asked, standing before her boss completely naked.

Mr. Hart answered that question by moving off the chair, kneeling down, gripping JoAnna’s soft buttocks and burying his face between her legs, tongue lapping at her box eagerly.

* * * * * * * * * *

Her pants and panties long gone, her shirt buttons opened up to reveal her tits, Tammin Sursok had absolutely no complaints about the orgasm Victoria Justice had just given her. Quite the opposite, in fact. She could’ve praised her lover until the sun went down.

Except she was already running late.

“I need to get going,” she lamented, sitting up.

Victoria smiled at her. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I could do so much more with just another five minutes”

“I’m already late…” Tammin protested weakly as Victoria eased a finger into the agent’s snatch.

“I’ll get coffee from the barista downstairs while you’re getting the dry cleaning,” Victoria offered as she withdrew her finger – and slid it up Tammin’s ass instead.

“Deal!” Tammin swooned.

* * * * * * * * * *

JoAnna had to admit that he knew his way around down there – he wasn’t going too fast or moving like he was nervous, it was just right. And she was liking how his hands felt on her ass as well; they weren’t as rough and sweaty as she had dreaded, and he wasn’t trying to poke a finger up her either (some women loved that, but JoAnna had always found that to be a bit of a distraction during the act). The guy was good… maybe a little too good. Stroking his bobbing head as he supped her snatch, JoAnna was afraid she might come sooner than she’d planned and that might be the end of it; feeling her cunt tingling, she realised she’d have to take her mind somewhere mentally to draw this out further.

“Oh, Jojo… I wish Lois tasted as good as you…” Mr. Hart sighed into her box.

JoAnna had seen his wife at the staff Christmas party; one of the cruder guys called her a stiffy killer, but that was doing the trick right now. She mentally pictured her grinning while riding her husband, the image battling the signals her ravished vagina were sending her. The boss’s mouth was too good to completely wipe out Lois, but it was delaying the effect. “Don’t stop, Monty…” she breathed, realising she was looking forward to returning the favour between his legs in a few minutes.

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled in between licks.

* * * * * * * * * *

It took a few minutes more than Kat had thought it would, but it wasn’t all that hard to get into the records for the SFUB on the day of the infamous heist. Kat couldn’t remember the exact time of day the heist happened, but she just began at the start of business and worked her way through slowly. There’d be a huge drop-off in transactions during the heist, and then there’d be nothing once the vault doors got blown off – that had cut the bank’s network connection rather thoroughly and what little was left was shut down immediately after the heist so the cops could look for evidence.

Just like she was doing now.

Kat cursed herself for not remembering exactly when the heist had happened. It’d been all over the news for six months, and was probably all over it again now that most of the girls had escaped prison.

Kat had just made it to noon when she suddenly realized something.

She wasn’t the only one looking at the SFUB records for that day.

“What the hell?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Chastain began scrolling through the system’s history, each date going further back as her eyes kept watch for anything out of the ordinary. So far everything looked work-related… no, no, no.

No… No… wait a minute.

“What have we here?” the redhead asked herself. There it was – a file with a name she hadn’t spotted before in amongst all the Union Bank paraphernalia… at 12:21 on the day of the SFUB heist, someone had added a file named “Dyson.” No mention of another file of that name before or since; it had just been uploaded onto the system and left there.

She clicked on that file, plugging a flashdrive into the side of the PC – she had a feeling she might want to check this one out off the premises, see if it had any kind of signature…

“You’ve got company,” a voice said quietly from the speakers.

Dammit. Someone else was checking the system. From outside the bank.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Dammit,” Jessica Biel snarled as she sat up from the floor, her naked body glistening with sweat and a little bit of girl cum. Beside her, Vanessa Hudgens didn’t move from where she lay, entwined in Jessica’s legs. “Where’s my secretary when I need her?”

“Doing far more important work than answering your phone,” Vanessa said lazily, tracing a finger over Jessica’s sopping wet snatch.

Jessica ignored that and reached for her phone, practically knocking it off the desk. “Hello?”

“Boss! We got a major issue here!” Kat Dennings said.

“I’m sorry, Kat. Vanessa hasn’t left yet. She got tangled up in something.” That earned her clit a nice little stroke from one of Vanessa’s fingers.

“What? No, listen to me! Someone’s hacking the San Fran Union Bank RIGHT NOW! And they’re looking through the records for the same day the SF8 robbed the joint!”

“FUCK!” Jessica snarled, standing up so fast she knocked Vanessa over. “Where are they?”

“In the bank itself!” Kat reported. “And boss, whoever it is, they’re good. They’re VERY good.”

“Grace Park?” Jessica wondered as she slid into her skirt – she’d come commando today, expecting to have Vanessa work her over like this.

“She’s still in the ICU at Remy Hadley,” Kat said. “I checked.”

“All right, I’ll get SOMEONE over there right now. Keep a good eye on them, Kat. Good work.” Jessica hung up before Kat could say anything else. She had to get a team assembled and rushed over to the SFUB right away. But there was no way a tactical team could deploy in anything less than twenty minutes, and by then the hacker would probably be gone. She needed someone closer.

“You sent Tammin out for your dry cleaning, right?” Vanessa asked casually, not bothering to cover her nudity as Jessica raced about the room, re-dressing.

“Now’s not the time to worry about dry cleaning,” Jessica snapped. “I gotta find SOMEONE close enough to get to the bank.”

“The dry cleaner’s three blocks away from the SFUB, and only two from Tammin’s new apartment,” Vanessa said. “In case she stopped there.”

Jessica looked down at the naked girl, so casually telling her exactly what she needed to hear. “You’re gorgeous AND brilliant.”

“I accept bribes,” Vanessa said as Jessica raced out the door. “Both cash and sexual favors!”

* * * * * * * * * *

JoAnna was relieved that Montgomery Hart was only thinking with his cock right now  – the one that JoAnna had inside her mouth, swallowing his length and trying to take in the odd snatch of air from what little space she had left. She had a horrible feeling his whole body was hairy, and was thankful that her hands were only clutching his pants and sparing her proper contact with his legs. His satisfied grunts punctuated JoAnna’s mouth action, her tongue teasing his rod as its plump head rested at the back of her mouth, ready to send its juice down her throat. That was the part JoAnna wasn’t looking forward to; she knew from her times with Jason that what people ate could affect what came out, but at least with Jason she liked the taste. This here was uncharted territory, and the last thing she wanted was to have garlic-flavoured love cream inside her…

His hands clamped down on her shoulders as he kept groaning, prick starting to move in preparation for the stream to come out. JoAnna slurped his meat, hoping it wouldn’t taste too bad…

“Jojo… lemme out…”

JoAnna instantly pulled her mouth away from him, just in time to receive a faceful of his cream.

As it splattered her she licked a little of it off her lips… garlic, as ever. But at least the storm of come she was receiving would end soon – well, she hoped it would end soon as Mr. Hart took his rod in hand and started to pump it out, sending it flying all over her lovely naked body, decorating her nipples and stomach. A couple of drops even landed on her trimmed pussy (good thing bukkake couldn’t get anyone pregnant, JoAnna thought).

The beatific look on the boss’s face suggested this was something else Lois didn’t like him doing. JoAnna opened her mouth wide and was rewarded with one last splat, landing right on the tongue – steeling herself, she swallowed it and beamed in return before rolling over.

“Got any left?” she asked as she presented her rump to the boss.

As Mr. Hart slapped his cock against her seat, she had a feeling she’d soon find out.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Okay, I REALLY have to go now,” Tammin said, actually standing up this time. Her ass was sore from Victoria’s rather aggressive fingering.

“Call in sick. We can fuck all afternoon,” Victoria offered.

“What would we do all night?”

“Make love instead?” Victoria offered.

Tammin groaned. It was SOOOO tempting, and all she was doing was menial stuff. She had enough sick leave accumulated…

Suddenly, her cell phone rang.

“Sursok,” she answered, seeing it was from work.

“BJ, detour to the SFUB right now!” Jessica said without preamble. “Someone inside the bank has hacked the system and is looking at stuff that happened during the SF8 robbery. You’re literally the closest agent we have!”

“Shit, I’m on it boss!”

“Hurry! Back-up’s twenty minutes out, even by helicopter.” With that, Biel hung up.

“I gotta go babe,” Tammin said, grabbing her purse from the counter.

“Tammin, babe, maybe-” Victoria started to say.

“No, sorry, I really gotta go,” Tammin cut her off.

“But-”

“I promise, later!” Tammin said, hauling open the door while fishing for her keys.

“You’re not wearing any pants!” Victoria called after her.

Tammin stopped dead and glared down at her naked legs and crotch. She quickly hopped back into the apartment, happy to see Victoria handing her the slacks she’d shed earlier.

* * * * * * * * * *

This was a switch if ever there was one – Lois actually preferred anal sex to the regular kind because she didn’t want kids (“Sure it hurts, but spitting out a brat hurts more”); Mr. Hart, on the other hand, wasn’t too crazy about it even if it was a nicely shaped behind attached to a cute redhead. But he didn’t have a problem with slipping it between JoAnna’s cheeks and sliding it back and forth instead of going straight inside; both boss and employee were getting something out of it, with the groans and cries filling the office. Yeah, it was a more elaborate way for him to masturbate, but JoAnna didn’t care…

With JoAnna’s ass clamping his dick in place, his hands were free to rub around her knelt-down body and fondle her hair, jerking against her harder each time. Both boss and employee started howling as Mr. Hart’s fingers made their way between JoAnna’s legs, feeling the juices of her snatch on his fingertips – for a moment he wondered if he could quickly jam it into her and give her the rest of the day off…

“YEAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” It wasn’t often that the man screamed louder than the woman in sex, but Mr. Hart definitely swamped JoAnna as his cock sprayed all over JoAnna’s ass, her creamy body shaking against his as she too finally came. They were in good sync; it was even less often that two parties orgasmed together.

As JoAnna let herself sink to the ground, Mr. Hart patted her behind and massaged the semen drops into her skin, wrapping up the moisturization process while he caught his breath.

“Gotta admit that wasn’t bad,” JoAnna said airily as she got up, headed to where her clothes were and started to dress. “Thanks…”

“Actually, I should be thanking you,” Mr. Hart replied. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t force me, don’t worry about it. Plus you’ve still got time before your meeting,” JoAnna added.

“I’m sure the staff liked not having me pop along and surprise them,” the boss said as he zipped his trousers. “They’re probably doing stuff I shouldn’t be seeing them do.”

“What, those guys? Never!” JoAnna lied.

* * * * * * * * * *

Not good, not good, not good! Whoever was watching Jessica Chastain was good. Too good. Every firewall and bounce-back program Jessica had in her arsenal wasn’t doing much good, and any minute now they’d spot what Jessica had – that little hidden Dyson file.

She needed five more minutes to get Dyson copied to her flash drive, but she wasn’t sure she could keep the other hacker out that long. And if someone knew she was here, then pretty quick someone would come looking for her…

* * * * * * * * *

Tammin Sursok wished she’d worn sneakers. As it was, her sensible flats were in one hand as she ran across the cold San Francisco sidewalks. Getting in her car or getting a cab to go three blocks would’ve just slowed her down. Running was the quickest way to get there at this time of day, and it was only two blocks or so.

She’d been at home, why didn’t she just grab new shoes? Two seconds! She had her running shoes right next to the damn door! Well, it was too late to go back now. The SFUB was in view now, less than a block away.

* * * * * * * * * *

“File copied.”

Jessica ripped the flash drive out of the computer with one hand while throwing one last firewall up with her other. This was cutting it too close. Why had she ever agreed to do this?

As she reached for a sticky note, she saw a picture of JoAnna and her fiance hugging under some trees, him behind her, JoAnna bent over so that her low-cut top showed so much ample cleavage.

“Oh, right,” Jessica grumbled. JoAnna was hot. So were the other girls mixed up in this. Jessica Chastain was in this for the pussy.

She scribbled a note. It was time to go.

“Excuse me, are you from tech services?”

The voice made Jessica jump, but she recovered quickly and turned to find an elderly woman looking at her hopefully. Her SFUB nametag called her Betty.

“Uh, yes,” Jessica said.

“I can’t seem to access my email. Can you help me?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Jessica said, getting up.

“Good. My friend Linda sent me the hottest pictures of some shirtless firemen she found online, and I want to thank her for them,” Betty said, leading Jessica away.

* * * * * * * * * *

“And what was all that about?” Jennifer Finnigan asked when JoAnna returned to her area.

“Oh, just a long chat about staff reviews,” she said airily.

Jennifer couldn’t help but notice that her hair was slightly mussed; she had her own ideas about what those “staff reviews” were, but she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her own – um – meetings in the past, after all.

As JoAnna took her place in front of the keyboard, safe in the knowledge that her PC was a bit faster now, she noticed that there was a folded sheet next to one of the speakers; she unfolded it and took in the contents “Saw something on the PC – might be what the girls were looking for. Keep you posted”- before crumpling it up and slipping it in a pocket for later disposal.

“YES!” JoAnna couldn’t help but cackle on seeing Jessica Chastain really had made it a little faster. That was a good cover if ever there was one.

Suddenly, a barefooted woman burst into the bank and held out an ID badge.

“FBI! Who’s in charge here?”

“Monty’s out back, getting cleaned up,” JoAnna said. “Can I help you?”

“Getting cleaned up from what?” Jennifer Finnigan asked.

“Get him here now. And lock down all your computers! You’ve got a hacker in building!”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Whoa, that’s more than shirtless,” Jessica said, getting into Betty’s email easily enough – her caps lock had been on. Now here were a couple of beefcake shots of fully naked firemen climbing all over their fire trucks, covered pretty much just in water. Right there was a giant black man with a giant black penis that he couldn’t hide behind even firefighting gear.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Betty said. “Want me to forward these to you for your own spank bank?”

“No thanks,” Jessica said, getting up. JoAnna had wisely not looked over at her, but this cute FBI chick with the lips made for cock sucking didn’t look like a fool. Jessica had to get out and get out fast…

“Okay everyone!” JoAnna called out. “We’re shutting the computers down! Everyone go gather in the employee lounge. We’re in FBI hands now!”

Jessica cursed under her breath, really hoping her firewalls had slowed down whoever that other hacker was long enough…

* * * * * * * * * *

“Gotcha!” Kat Dennings said, pumping her fist as the last firewall fell away, giving her complete access to whatever it was the hacker had been looking at. Quickly, she scanned the file names, seeing most of them were either deposits or withdrawals, and there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary here.

Then she spotted one marked simply “Dyson.”

“What’s this?” she asked, moving her mouse to click on the file. It opened up to reveal a wall of code – too much code! – before suddenly going completely blank.

“DAMNIT!” Kat swore. She knew right away what had happened – someone at the bank itself had locked the system down, cutting it off from the network. If she wanted to see Dyson now, she’d have to go to SFUB and hack their system in person.

Meanwhile, the real hacker was probably ten miles away.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ten feet from where Tammin Sursok was ushering bank employees into the back room, Jessica Chastain was just about ready to give up and try to tackle the FBI agent when someone grabbed her and pulled her into the women’s bathroom.

“Take your clothes off! Quick!”

“JoAnna, I’m flattered, but now’s not really the time,” Jessica said, her eyes unable to leave JoAnna’s skin as the bank employee stripped off her shirt.

“Take off your clothes and get into mine. And undo that ponytail – you need to look as close to me as possible.”

“What’s going on?” Jessica asked, getting undressed anyway.

“I told the FBI girl and Monty that I left my access code fob in my car. You’re going to dress up like me and sneak out.”

Jessica blinked – in part because JoAnna’s skin was flushed and still a little sweaty from her activities with her boss, but also in part because of how quick JoAnna had come up with this plan.

“Let’s do it,” Jessica said, yanking off her shirt.

Five minutes later, her hair tussled to look like JoAnna’s, wearing JoAnna’s blouse and nametag, Jessica slipped past the security guards and over to her car, and got exactly a hundred feet from the bank before the FBI tactical team came racing over the nearest hill.

JoAnna explained her change of clothes as having spilled an old coffee all over herself when she’d gone to the car, and with the video cameras down, and Betty’s memory fuzzy at best – she’d already forgotten how Jessica had gotten her into her email again – it would be weeks before anyone remembered that yes, there HAD been a second redhead in the bank, and no she hadn’t left before the FBI came storming in. Now all Jessica had to do was look over this Dyson file from the safety of her own computers.

Similarly, Kat Dennings arrived on site thirty minutes later and was allowed to restart the bank’s computer system. Twenty minutes after that, she had her own copy of “Dyson,” and was racing back to take a crack at it on HER computers.

Neither hacker realized just what she had in her hands until much, much later.

* * * * * * * * * *

“When can I see Megan?” Emma asked Hannah as she put on a change of clothing.

“When Mistress says you can,” the blonde replied regretfully. “She wants to talk to you first.”

“Same here,” Emma said grimly.

“Just try and relax; it’ll be over soon,” Hannah told her. “I’ll leave you with a little something to get you through till later.”

“I already took my medicine,” Emma pointed out.

Hannah lifted up her shirt, giving the invalid a look at her excellent breasts that was just long enough for a dazzling smile to break out. Returning Emma’s smile, Hannah lowered the shirt.

“When you’re all better I’ll let you do more than look,” she promised.

“Same here,” Emma said again, sounding this time as if she was looking forward to it.

“I’ll see you later,” Hannah said, backing out of the room. “My mistress doesn’t like it when I hang around too long.”

Emma propped herself up in bed, watching Hannah as she turned and left. The maid’s uniform she was wearing was notably snug around her butt; if it was Rhona’s idea, that meant there was something in her favour. Not much, but it was something.

“Miss Davis is good for what ails you, I believe.”

Hannah Davis’s ass was swept to the back of Emma’s mind for later as a lovely British brunette strode into the room, without even the slightest pretence to smile – it was all business with her.

“So, Emma Rose Roberts,” Rhona continued. “We meet again.”

“Trying to make me feel worse with your supervillain act?” the safecracker asked.

“Count yourself lucky Rosie isn’t here,” the brunette snapped as she went up to the side of Emma’s bed. “She does not like people being rude to me, and I would rather not have you hurt. At this time, anyway.”

“Obviously, otherwise me and Megan would be at the bottom of the San Francisco Bay now,” Emma replied. “So why’d you snatch us? You could just as easily have let us get caught.”

“I believe in the law of Michael Corleone – keep your friends close and your enemies closer. It would have been easier if you had been captured in the hospital, but then you would be out of my hands… and I would not be able to suggest a little arrangement.”

“What kind of ‘little arrangement’?” asked Emma.

“I know that you’re alone in the world, Miss Roberts. Your mother abandoned you as a child, and your father met his maker in a car accident…”

“Yeah yeah, bring out the violins.”

“If you interrupt me again, I will see to it that you are in no condition to do more than look at Hannah Davis,” Rhona said coldly.

She got Emma right where it would hurt. The safecracker drew an imaginary zip across her mouth.

“Your late father was adept at stealing artworks and safecracking – a case of like father, like daughter. And it occurs to me that a young woman with your skills could be useful to my organization; with your light fingers and my financial backing, it would be profitable for both of us.”

“Said the woman who left us to rot in prison,” Emma pointed out.

“All part of preparing for the future,” Rhona replied. “Plus I already did you a favour.”

“Since when?” asked Emma.

“Since the Countdown Communications affair.”

“Thanks for digging up that particular bad memory… but how’d that tie in with you?”

“The woman who got you off – Reiko Aylesworth. One of my best employees at Lychan Hollowman,” Rhona said with a smirk. “I kept my eye on you after that.“

“One of your… shit, you own a law firm as well?”

“Useful to have lawyers working for you, I find. Even if they have no idea who they’re working for. But I assure you Miss Aylesworth is fully aware who the primary partner is – in some cases, honesty is the best policy. Especially when the other party is barely on nodding terms with things like scruples.”

“Kill all the lawyers,” Emma said.

“Most of them, I admit. But moving on…” Rhona lifted up the blanket covering Emma, ignoring the safecracker’s narrowed eyes as she took a look at her legs, nodding approvingly.

“Purely gratuitous,” she said as she put the blanket back. “I do like looking at your body. You don’t have to say thank you.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Emma muttered.

“Now, I intend to expand my horizons somewhat. The Union Bank robbery was stage 1; in the next few days I’ll be holding a party here, with several would-be partners invited. If all goes well, and I believe it will, my move eastwards should be no problem. And as I said, you would be a very useful person to have in my employ.”

“What if I don’t want to be ‘in your employ’?”

“Ah,” Rhona smiled. “Then there will be a father-daughter reunion in your future.”

“He taught me a lot, but we were never really close,” Emma said. “But since you put it that way…”

“I don’t need a final answer right now,” Rhona told her. “Get some rest and think it over. I have a feeling you’ll make the right choice.”

With that, Rhona took her leave and Emma turned over as if about to get some sleep. Oh, she intended to make the right choice – being part of the Rhona Mitra machine could have its advantages. For starters, it would be a lot easier to kill that British cunt.

Just the thought of that made Emma Roberts feel a little better.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You wanted to see me?” Kat Dennings asked on coming into Jessica Biel’s office, looking very uneasy.

“Mm-hmm. Have a seat, Kat,” the director replied, smiling reassuringly.

Kat sat down, nervously twisting her hands.

“Relax, no one’s going to get fired. I’ve been noticing you today – you seem to have something on your mind besides work. And your action figures,” Jessica said knowingly.

“Is it that obvious?” asked Kat.

“It’s that obvious.”

Kat sighed. “That business with the bank yesterday…”

“You did get the information,” Jessica reminded her. “And it’s only a matter of time before we figure it out.”

“Yes, but I couldn’t stop whoever was on the other end,” Kat said ruefully. “Everything I threw up, they got past… I should’ve kept them out. I screw up everything… I don’t know why you keep trusting me.”

“We all make mistakes,” Jessica said.

“Tell me about it.”

“But you didn’t make any yesterday,” the boss added. “You’re a good worker, Kat. This could be a way in to finding who’s behind all those bank attacks…”

“Until I screw up next time. I can’t do anything properly… not even offduty,” Kat continued. “I bet it goes south with that date this weekend as well… sometimes I think my collection’s the only way I’ll ever have someone in my life…”

“Now that’s just silly,” Jessica said. “You’re smart, you’re gorgeous… you should have people falling over you. That idiot Ben caught sight of you that time you were wearing jeans and I hear he spent the whole night at the bar talking about your behind – about the only time he ever talked sense, I bet.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but I’m just a big clumsy girl…”

“You come with me,” Jessica interrupted briskly. “I need to have a word with you in private.”

“But we’re in your office,” Kat pointed out, confused.

“Just come…” And Jessica led Kat out of her office.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rebel Wilson was not built for speed, but she nearly hit the ceiling at an impressive rate of knots when Director Biel came marching into the janitorial area. Shit on toast, what was bringing the boss down here?

“Listen, I can explain—“ she started.

“Not a word, and take the rest of the day off,” Jessica interrupted.

Seeing Kat Dennings following in her wake, Rebel leaped to a conclusion and nodded, heading for the exit.

“AFTER we’re done,” the boss said. “You make sure we’re not interrupted for anything.”

The janitor sat down again and saluted. “You can count on me, ma’am.”

Kat swallowed as she was escorted away from Rebel; she was feeling like she could use some more people around, just for the support. And where were they going, anyway?

Jessica stopped by the supply closet, opened it and stepped inside, beckoning to Kat to follow as she switched the light on. Raising an eyebrow, Kat did as she was told, closing the door behind her and noticing Jessica nodding approvingly (not that she had a choice – the closet wasn’t tiny but there was no way she could avoid looking at the boss).

“Am I in trouble?” Kat asked meekly.

Jessica laughed a little, patting one of Kat’s shoulders. “That’s the last thing you’re in. You just need to have some confidence put in that hot body of yours.”

“You… you think I’m hot?”

Jessica stared at Kat; this girl must have had one hell of a cloistered upbringing, that or family who tore into her since puberty. There was something to be said for girls who didn’t know they were sexy, but this was something else. Gently holding onto Kat’s shoulders, she nodded.

“Someone like Agent Bell’s hot,” Kat said, looking down at her feet. “I’m just a big gap-toothed schlump.”

“You’re not a schlump,” Jessica told her. “You’re a smart, capable… very well-built woman.”

“Is this where you tell me to take off my glasses and shake my hair out?” Kat asked knowingly.

“You don’t need to take your glasses off,” Jessica said, slowly moving her hands onto Kat’s front. “You just have to see what we all see.”

She leaned in close and kissed the nape of Kat’s neck. “We see a butterfly about to come out of its shell.”

Rebel, having crept up to the closet door, made retching motions (but kept them soundless).

Kat felt Jessica’s hands resting on her top, gently stroking the chest. “Who said you were fat?” the boss asked.

“My sisters,” the analyst admitted. “They said I should be skinny like them.”

“Their loss,” Jessica replied, undoing a button of Kat’s top. And another. And then another, slowly revealing more and more of Kat Dennings’s cleavage, with her eyes widening more and more; even though the bra Kat was wearing was a perfect fit, there was still plenty of the creamy flesh spilling out.

“Take it off,” the boss whispered when Kat’s top was completely opened.

“But my shirt-“

“Not that,” Jessica interrupted.

Kat nervously reached around her back and unclasped the brassiere, letting her enormous breasts loose. Jessica’s mouth dropped open – those things were huge and beautiful, with the kind of swollen nipples she could suck on for days. The boss took a breast in each hand, loving how they were spilling out over the sides, and hefted each one as she shook her head… she couldn’t believe she was getting to play with ones this big.

“I’m SO jealous,” Jessica admitted, resting her head between Kat’s breasts as she continued to fondle them. “Maybe you should keep dressing like you always do… no one would get any work done if you started raiding Helen Flanagan’s wardrobe.”

Burying her face deep inside all that soft flesh, Jessica gently tweaked Kat’s nipples, listening to the other woman’s moan as her other hand slid down her back and under her dress; she wasn’t surprised to find Kat had some sizeable underwear underneath. “You’re so warm…” she mumbled into Kat’s chest.

“Um…” Kat was unable to think of anything to say as she felt Jessica’s hand resting on her plump cheeks. On the one hand, she was nervous – she hadn’t been in this kind of situation before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it. And yet, knowing the times – knowing ALL the times – she had glanced secretly at her boss in action, she wasn’t sure she didn’t want it. And now Jessica was putting both her hands up her dress…

“Turn around…” Jessica said, in between licks on Kat’s chest. “C’mon, don’t you want to make your boss happy?”

(Outside, Rebel Wilson was wishing she had X-ray vision around now.)

Kat Dennings did want to make her boss happy. Very much. She carefully turned around until her back was to Jessica, and gulped as the boss undid her dress. The voluminous fabric landed on the ground as Kat’s generous bottom, encased in what Jessica had to admit were granny panties, was revealed.

“I’ll do it,” Kat said quietly, and lowered the underwear herself. Jessica followed her with her eyes as she brought the panties down to her feet, staring at the booty on view.

“Wow…” Jessica breathed as Kat stretched back up. Her rump was round, big and soft, and the definition of pale and interesting. Whoever called her a big fat schlump should’ve been locked up – nothing wrong with having some meat on the bones, especially when it looked like that.

“You are a goddess, Kat. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“Uhh… thank you,” Kat managed to say, before yelping – Jessica had dropped to her knees and kissed her ass as if SHE was the one in charge.

“And a goddess needs some worshipping,” Jessica added, stroking Kat’s thighs before kissing it again. “My friend’ll love you on Saturday.”

“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of,” Kat admitted, moving a little less nervously under Jessica’s fingers. “If it goes a lot further… I might not know what to do. ‘Cause… because I’ve never actually been with anyone like this before.”

(“She’s still a virgin?” Rebel said in a low voice, before preening herself that a woman with her build had lost her cherry like years ago.)

“That’s all right,” Jessica said reassuringly (while not letting on how surprised she was; even allowing for Kat’s personality, she was amazed someone with a body like that underneath hadn’t at least tried it and been put off men after a disappointing first time, or something). “Happens to all of us.”

As she squished her breasts against the wall while pressing her hands on the surface, Kat flashed back to the time she’d found some magazines in her dad’s closet when she was 16; Mom bought lots of magazines with women in them as well, but in the ones Dad had the girls didn’t have anything on (or what they did have on they soon took off). She still had soft spots for Lindsey Vuolo and Christi Shake… anyway, Kat had hidden her secret likings under her geek façade, but one good thing came from it – no one EXPECTED her to be interested in boys. So she could go to see “Thor” and talk about it with her colleagues without fear of anyone asking who she preferred, Hemsworth or Hiddleston (Portman. It was always Portman. She was so jealous of the girl who played Darcy getting to spend most of her screen time standing next to her…).

And now here was one of her crush objects gently kneading Kat’s ass as Jessica moved her head down, separating the flesh to get access to what was between her legs. Kat quivered in anticipation; Jessica Biel’s tongue had found her slit. It wasn’t like she was obsessed with anyone ever going down there – Kat had never really dreaded becoming a 40-year-old virgin or anything -  but this was a whole world away from  writing slash fiction. She felt the tip of Jessica’s tongue delicately touching her box, dabbing on her clit and slowly moving between the lips. Oh wow… Kat swallowed as she enjoyed the boss tasting her. So much better than a finger or a cucumber.

The slow and steady pace of Jessica’s mouth started to increase, and though Kat didn’t do any gambling outside of the odd scratchcard she was willing to bet Jessica was liking it down below. It certainly sounded like it. Combined with how Jessica’s hands were stroking as much of her body as they could reach, she was feeling better than she had felt in ever.

Whoa… now this was something she’d never felt before. She was tingling, and not in a Spider-Sense way either – her whole body was steaming up, being filled with energy and fire starting from her crotch. Kat squealed as Jessica’s tongue lit on one particular spot – she gritted her teeth to try and stop from shouting, pressing her body against the wall as Jessica’s mouth loved her harder, feeling her pussy soaking from the treatment it was getting.

“Whoo… whoa… Yes… yesyesyesyesyesyeeeaaaaaaAAAGGGHHHHH!!!” She couldn’t resist any longer, shaking like a leaf and finding it hard to catch her breath. “YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! YESYESYESYESYESBOSS!!!!”

(Thrusting a hand in and out of her opened jeans and listening, Rebel flashed back to when Ben had fucked her; he hadn’t made her howl nearly as much.)

Holding the quaking woman’s legs, Jessica gave Kat’s pussy one final lick before she moved back, keeping her hands on her body as she got up. Jessica kept contact even as Kat turned around, and the boss felt herself moistening more on getting a full-frontal shot of Miss Dennings for the few seconds before the glowing and grateful Kat embraced her, kissing her repeatedly as if a load had been taken from her shoulders. The director couldn’t resist pulling her closer, the better to feel Kat’s lactobombs resting on her own sizeable but suddenly tiny in comparison jugs. (Although for once she didn’t mind feeling the way Agent Bell probably did 24/7.)

Neither of them noticed the door to the closet quietly opening a crack and Rebel Wilson looking inside; she was rewarded by a full-length sight of boss and employee kissing while in each other’s arms, Jessica Biel’s fingers caressing Kat Dennings’s ass, as Kat rested her head on Jessica’s chest. Wank fodder for the evening secured, Rebel closed the door – if they had spotted her she’d have been fired, but it was worth it.

“Thank you…” Kat smiled, glancing up at the boss. “I’m glad it was you.”

“I should be thanking you,” Jessica replied. “You taste great.”

“We’d better get back,” Kat giggled.

“I’m the boss,” Jessica said, stroking the other woman’s thick brown tresses. “They can wait.”

“You know, I thought it would be…”

“Better?” asked Jessica.

“Worse,” Kat admitted. “I heard some girls say they had it bad the first time…”

“Now I should REALLY thank you,” Jessica laughed. “Out with it.”

“With what?” asked Kat.

“I can tell you’ve still got something to say…”

“Well, I’ve always wondered what a… well, you know… tastes like,” Kat explained. “And I’ve always imagined you’d be the first to show me.”

“On your knees, Kat,” Jessica smiled. “Like I said, they can wait…”

* * * * * * * * * *

Time was heavy on the hands of the group; progress was basically at a standstill. They still had no idea about how to get Megan and Emma back, the longer they were out of the loop the worse it would be for them… and going out was out of the question. So they were thanking the heavens for daytime TV, with the gang currently tuning in to “Jeopardy!” and having a high old time yelling the right questions at the screen.

Except for Hayden. Since “Jeopardy!” was on Channel 7, she just couldn’t bring herself to watch right now; she associated Channel 7 with Ashley Benson, and it just made her far too killy to tune into the thing, even when a show was running that she had absolutely nothing to do with. So while the others were tuning in to Trebek, the ex-reporter was in the room she shared with Megan (or would have shared if she was still there), leafing through one of the magazines JoAnna and Troian had brought on their last visit and wishing aliens could arrive from another planet and offer a universal cure for illness in exchange for Courtney Stodden and the Real Housewives Of Whatever (which would be a fair swap).

The door was knocked on, taking Hayden away from reality TV show gossip. “C’mon in!” she called.

“You all right, Hayd?” asked Roselyn, poking her head through the opened gap.

“About the same as ever in this setup,” the blonde sighed.

“Blake wants a word with you,” the leader said. “She’s in her and Shay’s room.”

“Well, I guess Lisa Vanderpump can wait,” Hayden replied, tossing the magazine aside and getting off her bed. “Enjoy the rest of the games.”

“I will,” Roselyn assured her. “Mainly because I’m winning.”

With the sound of quiz show noise behind her, Hayden knocked on the door of Blake and Shay’s place (it hadn’t escaped her notice that they had basically the same living arrangements they’d had in Remy Hadley). What Blake wanted to see her about she had no idea, but at least it was a change from basically doing nothing.

“So what’s up?” Hayden asked when Blake opened the door.

“I wanted to talk to you,” the tall blonde replied. “Inside – I don’t want the others to hear this.”

Hayden’s interest rose a few levels. Something secretive? Did she have something she had to get off her chest? Wondering what it was, Hayden stepped inside.

Shutting the door, Blake turned to face her with a slightly nervous look on her lovely face. “It’s about… about Remy Hadley,” she began.

“Still can’t get used to being out of there, huh?” Hayden asked sympathetically. “Worried they might catch us?”

“Yes, but that’s not it,” Blake said. “I’ve got something for you.”

Hayden was having a little trouble processing this – what on Earth could the woman have brought from the prison for her? She opened her mouth to ask what Blake meant… and then kept it open as she watched Blake undo her dress and let it drop to the ground around her feet, revealing her completely naked body.

“Me,” Blake added quietly.

Hayden had a LOT of trouble processing this. Blake Lively, the one who was so straight she should’ve looked like a stick, taking her clothes off for one of the team? Had she caught what Emma had?

“…why?” the small blonde asked, telling herself to keep her eyes focused on Blake’s face.

“Because I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” the tall blonde replied, stepping out of the dress around her feet and coming closer to Hayden. “I’ve thought about it every day since we broke out. And every night.”

“But-“

“But nothing,” Blake interrupted. “You saved my life, Hayden. And this is the only way I can pay you back.”

She opened her arms. “I’m yours, any time you want it. Starting now.”

Hayden was a mess of emotions. On the one hand, she genuinely felt Blake didn’t owe her for that or anything – it had simply been one human being saving another, the way Blake had stopped that woman from crushing her like an empty bag of Doritos during the escape. On the other hand, ever since that time escaping from the bank when she’d checked out Blake teetering out the back of the van she’d wanted her, the way the others had but none of whom had managed it (well, except for Emma – and Shay, who’d told the others about her nocturnal explorations with Blake in their cell and made them promise never to let Miss Lively know).  And now here was this blonde goddess smiling down at her…

Her busted arm was less of a barrier than Hayden had feared – she may have undressed faster, but she didn’t know when. When she was nude, Blake knelt down so they could be at the same eye level, and Hayden rested her hands on Blake’s shoulders before coming in for a kiss.

The two blondes’s lips met, Hayden unable to keep her tongue from slipping into Blake’s mouth. Holy shit, even her TEETH were perfect… it lasted only for a few moments, but for Hayden it was like taking a shortcut to paradise.

“Wow,” the tiny blonde whispered, kissing Blake again.

“You kiss better than Emma does,” the tall blonde said in an almost bashful tone, starting to bring her hands up to touch Hayden’s body. Blake’s hands were a little tentative as they touched the other woman, as if they weren’t sure where to go.

“It’s all right,” Hayden said assuringly. “Everyone’s had a first time.”

Even though Blake had lost her cherry at an age when you weren’t supposed to, she knew exactly what Hayden meant. She rested her hands on Hayden’s breasts, slowly stroking them while the other blonde slid the fingers of her good hand down Blake’s front; a beatific smile spread across Hayden’s face as she spread her fingers into Blake’s pussy – ooooh, yes. If it had been winter, this would’ve warmed her up no trouble. Hayden took Blake’s clit between thumb and index finger, gently rolling it in between them as Blake kissed the nape of her neck before nuzzling on her rack, tasting each nipple and licking the tip.

Hayden let Blake’s button go as the woman began to move down her body, her hands sliding down Hayden’s back and spreading over her behind. It was a strange experience for Blake – she’d gotten used to expecting buttocks to have some kind of hair on them, or at least the odd pimple or two. But this was a genuinely smooth and unblemished set; she finally had a chance to tell someone what guys had been telling her since puberty set in.

Except she didn’t, because she had Hayden Panettiere’s pussy in front of her eyes. She didn’t care if she herself had one of those, this was entering (figuratively and literally) uncharted territory.

“Hey…”

Blake looked up to see Hayden looking down on her tenderly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hayden told her with a reassuring smile.

Swallowing her nerves, Blake smiled back and flicked her tongue out. She told herself she could do this – this wasn’t like it was with Emma Roberts. This time she had made the first move, and she did want to make Hayden happy.

With her eyes closed, Blake Lively’s tongue made contact with another woman’s privates for the first time in her life; the tip moved tentatively along Hayden’s slot. Blake had seen Hayden naked before in the showers at Remy Hadley, but not this close up – how could someone so tiny have such a big and plump pussy? No wonder the girl was so outgoing; she could probably accommodate a pretty big penis with what she had…

Blake mentally slapped herself as her tongue tasted Hayden’s love button. A penis was the LAST thing this one would put inside her; Hayden would probably feel as strange sucking on one as Blake herself felt rolling the clit near her mouth. It was… unusual. Not gross, really, but knowing that this was an entrance to a place guys all over the world dreamed of getting into meant that Blake was, for once, in the man’s position. And if a lot of them loved it, then she guessed she herself could give it a try.

As her hands caressed Hayden’s butt, she imagined she was on the other end; Blake had sucked plenty of cocks but she had also eaten plenty of ass and never gotten a complaint. Her mouth started to taste Hayden, her tongue moving deep inside her and her lips taking time to kiss whatever parts of Hayden’s snatch she could.

“Mmmmm… Yesss…. “ Hayden moaned, her hands stroking Blake’s head. “Blake, you’re a natural… you feel so… good…”

Blake continued to lick inside Hayden, losing more and more of her inhibition as she progressed. Hayden did taste better than she had thought she would – maybe it was kind of sushi-like, but Blake LOVED sushi. It wasn’t anything like a man’s asshole… or a woman’s, as Blake was finding with her  index fingers sliding up Hayden’s tight little back passage.

Nope, nothing like it. For a start, she’d have a cock on the other side to stroke as she tasted the tunnel. But there were some things that were similar – for a start, Hayden was begging her never to stop because she loved it. The blonde pixie was trembling as her warm pussy began to moisten under Blake’s mouth; part of her was almost beginning to like it. To the extent that Blake’s own pussy was beginning to drip…

Blake whipped her head back as she came to herself for a moment, and rolled Hayden onto her front. The other blonde was still steaming from Blake’s mouth, and Hayden was about to ask what was wrong before she felt Blake’s head pressing against her asshole and resuming the munch, putting more enthusiasm into it this time – whatever objections were about to come out of Hayden’s mouth vanished as she began to receive the best rim job she had ever had in her life. (Other than Troian, obviously.)

Hayden didn’t demand mouth-to-ass as a matter of course, but whenever Troian did it to her it was something pretty nice. This girl, however… wow, the finger action plus the tongue showed that Blake could do this at the Olympics and bring home gold every time. Relishing every lick and probe, Hayden relaxed as she let another fantasy play out – the one where Blake discovered what side she really played for…

This was incredible… as Hayden’s heart began to beat faster, she realised that Blake wasn’t going back and forth between quim and back door the way Troian had done – it was purely anal all the way. Hayden started to wail in delight as Blake Lively’s mouth finished its work, screaming Blake’s name as her ass sent currents of joy throughout her body; now there was only one thought on her mind… payback, and for once not in the sense of Ashley Benson or Rhona Mitra.

As Blake kissed each of Hayden Panettiere’s rounded buttocks to finish, the glowing small blonde looked over her shoulder back at her lover. “My turn,” she sighed, and was rewarded with Blake moving backwards and down onto the floor, her legs spread apart and waiting.

Hayden placed her head between Blake’s breasts, nuzzling each one and rubbing herself against them; she was SO envious of girls with racks like these (when this was all over she was going to look into getting something like that for herself). Mmmm, she’d have been happy to just stay there all day and all night… but her lower part was brushing against Blake’s warm, well-kept snatch. Kissing those excellent boobs one last time, Hayden headed down between the woman’s legs, enjoying every little gasp from Blake with each touch and kiss.

The moment Hayden’s tongue slipped into Blake’s box, she wanted to come; her pussy was like tasting heaven. The best of the whole gang, no question; Hayden’s mouth greedily munched on Blake, moving through each golden bit of what she had as she flashed back to the escape from the bank… watching Blake leaning out of the back of the van, Hayden had imagined what it would be like to have someone like that. She thanked fate that she was getting to find out, burrowing deeper inside Blake and feeling how warm and moist she was. Enjoying how Blake’s body was thrashing about under her mouth, Hayden supped further on the sunshine that was her pussy.

“Oh yeah… oh that’s right… yessssYESYESYES!!!!!!!” Blake was feeling better with each dab of Hayden’s tongue, being propelled to greater and greatest heights of ecstasy and rubbing herself with delight. “YESSSSSSSSS!!! FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOW!!!!”

Then as she orgasmed over Hayden’s mouth, Blake screamed a name. But it wasn’t Hayden’s. It wasn’t even another unisex name like Hayden or Blake.

Blake Lively’s body was shaking and glowing with what Hayden had done, and Hayden knew she tasted too good for the experience to be ruined, but… Hayden slowly raised her head from between Blake’s legs and looked up at her face, seeing a contrite, apologetic look on it.

“Was he your first?” Hayden asked calmly.

“He wasn’t my FIRST first, but he was the first man,” Blake admitted as the tiny blonde slid back up her body. “I did try to blot them out, I really did… but… that’s why I went the back way just now. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a cute ass… for a girl. It’s just that…”

“It’s just you like what’s on the other side more if it’s a guy?” Hayden finished.

Blake nodded. “You’re not the first lady who’s come on to me…”

“Emma?”

“She wasn’t the first either. But you’re the first one I actually let do it,” the crestfallen Blake said, taking Hayden in her arms. “I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what? For making me come? For not being able to change who you are?” Hayden held Blake with her better arm and kissed her cheek. “You’re not the first straight I’ve tried it with – I’ve had exactly ONE girl who thought she liked boys come out after being with me. I’d have been shocked if you swapped after this. Flattered,” she added with a little laugh, “but shocked.”

“I’m still yours for as long as we’re stuck here,” Blake told her.

“Thanks, but I don’t want you to be my concubine.”

“I just want to look out for you, is all.”

“You got a deal,” Hayden smiled. “One more kiss for good luck?”

“Sure,” Blake smiled back, as their lips met.

“Oh, and Hayden…”

“Yeah?”

“If I DID like girls,” Blake said almost shyly, “I’d like you.”

For the first time since Troian Bellisario had told her she loved her, Hayden Panettiere blushed.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Tough break about Miss Sunshine,” sports reporter Isla Fisher told Ashley Benson as they stood by their lockers.

Miss Sunshine was the staff’s nickname for Alison Brie’s nickname, partly because she did the weather but mostly because she was guaranteed to be cheerful even if World War III was a breaking story. So when word got around about what had happened to her, everyone from the station manager to the janitor was sympathetic.

“Yeah, I heard about her account,” Ashley replied.

“Getting closer to home… and still a way to go till payday,” the Australian redhead continued. “I’d hate to be in her shoes now.”

Ashley nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. It had been elsewhere even when she’d magnaminously given Alison some money to tide her over (“Wow, thanks – I swear I’ll pay you guys back!” Alison had gushed) – it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it, plus it made her look good.

Her mind was on what was in her locker – Rhona’s little gift went everywhere with her, because you never could tell when it would be time to use it. But she had a feeling it would be soon.

* * * * * * * * * *

Since Kate Mara was stuck with doing the late news on Channel 5 more often than not, Victor had gotten used to her coming in way past bedtime o’clock. But he still liked to stay up for her when he could; she was lovely enough that he could face up to not being a night person.

“How’s my chunky monkey?” Kate asked cheerfully on letting herself into the place.

“Still wishing you’d just call him Victor… Red.”

“You know I hate that name,” Kate pouted.

“And…?” Victor let the point hang.

“Fine,” Kate mock-grumbled, embracing Victor before they kissed. “Just glad to see a friendly face.”

“Rough day, huh?”

“Yeah… bad news.” Kate paused. “That guy who’s cleaning out bank accounts…”

“He got you?” Victor winced. He’d hoped that this plague wouldn’t get around to either of them – it was a big city, and they weren’t even SFUB customers. But if this was spreading that fast… maybe it might be time to look into the Bank of Mattress. Ironically, Channel  5 had just done their own story on the wave of unintended withdrawals (fronted by Kate, yet).

“I got in touch with the cops, but they just sounded like it was another one on the pile,” Kate added.

“I swear, if I ever find whoever’s doing this… how much do you need till Friday?”

“It’s only Wednesday; I’ve got enough on me,” Kate assured Victor with a laugh. “You don’t have to keep paying me back for that date.”

That date had been the first one they’d been on after a date of the blind variety. It had been how Kate and Victor had met; she’d greeted him when he turned up at her house for a blind date – with her sister Rooney, who she was still living with at the time. In a way, the date had worked out because Rooney and Victor hit it off – but as friends, and not the kind that had benefits either.

It had been clear from the beginning that it would never take, thanks to some subtle hints… like how Victor kept surreptitiously glancing at Kate while talking to Rooney. Kate had decided to give her sister a chance to level the playing field by leaving them alone before they left, but the damage had been done; the next time he’d called it was to ask Kate out. And the next time, which was the time Victor had been caught short and Kate had offered to pay the balance. The time after that Kate had called to ask HIM out, and things had carried on from there.

“Maybe they’ll hit Benson,” Victor suggested.

“Wishful thinking,” Kate sighed. “Sometimes I think someone’s looking out for her.”

“The devil takes care of his own.”

“You know it,” Kate agreed, kissing him. “Wanna help me take my mind off it?”

“Well, I’ve had a bad day as well,” Victor replied, kissing back as they headed down the corridor. “Mindy Kaling came on to me again… went all ‘The Big Lebowski’ on me.”

“She said she’d suck your cock for a thousand dollars?!” Kate said, pushing Victor into the bedroom. “The nerve… I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“Because I know you do it better than she could?” Victor chuckled, letting Kate shove him onto their bed.

Kate was tempted to ask Victor how he knew she gave better head than Mindy, before she saw the twinkle in his eye as he started to undress. The couple’s clothes were soon all over the room, both thinking about nothing but each other’s naked bodies; Victor didn’t know if Kate had been waiting for this moment all day but he sure had been.

Even if Mindy did succeed in getting him in bed, he knew he’d only ever have Kate’s adorable face and trim body on his mind. And there Kate was, clutching his thighs on the edge of the bed as she bent her head forward and down; the tension and stress of the day was soon melting away as Kate gorged herself on his rod, swallowing the brown length and teasing out the first streams of semen. Kate took quick snatches for breath without breaking the rhythm, glancing up at him from time to time; looking into her big eyes as she sucked just made it even better, and they both knew it.

Victor lay back and relished Kate’s soft lips tasting him, her fingers dandling his sacs as he tried to keep the inevitable from happening right now. Not when Kate had so much more to give him; he pulled on his girlfriend’s hair, their sign that he wanted her to stop. His ego got a huge boost when he felt her mouth take a long, long time to move up and off his cock, as if she didn’t want to stop (not that he wanted her to stop either).

Kate slithered up Victor’s body, letting him enjoy the way her breasts swayed as she moved; yeah, she wasn’t massively endowed but she made what she had count. He moved his hands along her body as she came up him, finding her sweet little ass and cupping it tightly as she moved in for another kiss. Their tongues and lips met, bodies exchanging heat as they rolled over on their bed.

“I bet Ashley Benson got where she is on her back,” Victor smirked as Kate licked his chest.

“Make you a deal,” his girlfriend replied. “You stop talking about the demon blonde from hell while we’re in bed, and tomorrow night you get to put that monster down there up my butt.”

“It’s not THAT big,” Victor laughed as he nuzzled her neck. “But it’s a deal.”

Kate Mara’s ass wasn’t that big either, and he hadn’t actually been that keen on anal sex before they met, so quite why he’d been so happy to core her back door whenever she indicated she was up for it (which wasn’t that often) he wasn’t sure. But her butt felt so good. So did her legs, which she had wrapped around his waist pulling him in tighter. And so did her breasts, which he greedily tasted while rubbing her sides; with each kiss and caress he was forgetting more about quarrels and come-ons at work.

Soon there was nothing on his mind but Kate and how she made him feel. Victor counted his blessings again as he thrusted in and out of his girlfriend bucking beneath him, two lovers in contrast (him dark and huge, her pale and tiny) but in perfect harmony. His hands roamed her long red hair as he kissed her over and over, relishing her cunt around his rod – tight, snug, incredibly warm…

The bed started to creak as it always did when they got together on it, but neither party cared a whit about its unwanted addition. All Victor wanted was to listen to Kate’s increasing screams as he pumped her harder, her cries blending with his own, both loudly swearing how fucking much they loved this and each other. Kate’s jiggling breasts slammed against Victor’s chest as she howled, feeling a thick stream flooding her cunt for what seemed like ages…

Kate Mara couldn’t help but smile. After what had happened today, she had finally gotten a deposit.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Give me some good news,” Jessica sighed as Kristen Bell took her seat in the director’s office.

“There’s a disruption in the shields around the prison,” cracked the agent.

Jessica stared at her.

“Sorry…  it’s just what you said was a line from a ‘Star Trek: Voyager’ episode,” laughed Kristen. “Big, big fan. Even of ‘Enterprise.’”

“Well, at least I know you’re not a Trekkie,” Jessica mused. “I heard once that Trekkers wonder what sex is like in zero gravity and Trekkies-“

“-wonder what sex is like, I know,” Kristen rudely interrupted her superior officer. “Anyway, I don’t know if it’s GOOD news, but it’s interesting. We looked into Remy Hadley’s top brass, and it turns out Warden Winslet used to be a pretty naughty girl.”

“Sounds like she’d fit in perfectly around here.”

“Except for Kat Dennings,” Kristen laughed.

“Yes. But you were saying?” asked the boss.

“Well, she had a few run-ins with the law when she was younger,” Kristen continued. “Nothing major, but quite a few before she turned to the side of law and order. Funny how she got the job as well – the other main candidate topped Kate on just about every count; about the only thing she couldn’t do was walk on water. Or fly.”

“What do you mean, or fly?”

“Just before the board made their choice, the golden girl jumped off the Golden Gate,” Kristen explained. “No sign of any foul play, and no suicide note or anything… she just took a leap, looks like.”

“Tragic. And convenient,” Jessica said.

“Speaking of convenient, guess who just happens to be the warden’s lawyers?” asked Kristen. “Our old friends at Lychan Hollowman.”

“Emma Roberts, the Spectacular, Remy Hadley… interesting how that name keeps popping up,” Jessica agreed.  “How do you feel about taking another helicopter ride?”

“Bring it on,” said the agent. “Bring it on.”

* * * * * * * * * *

One good thing about Alicia Keys’s car being in the shop for repairs; there was no chance of anybody seeing it parked outside the hideout.

One fuckton of bad things about Alicia Keys’s car being in the shop for repairs; she had to take a bunch of trains across San Francisco to get there, all with Joshua in tow because she couldn’t get her hands on a babysitter. And she’d have to change him soon to boot. Carrying Joshua in her strong right arm and her supplies with her left hand, the woman made her way to the door and carefully kicked the special knock.

No answer.

Alicia drew back her foot to try it again, and the door opened.

“OW!”

“Sorry…” Alicia winced in embarrassment, Olivia Wilde in pain. That kick had hurt.

“I was in a rush to get the door and I tripped,” the black-haired beauty told the other black-haired beauty as Alicia and Joshua entered. “So you’re Roselyn’s true love?”

“Guilty as charged – oh, sorry.” This wasn’t Alicia’s day; now she’d gone and said the wrong thing.

“It’s all right,” Olivia assured her, taking Alicia’s bag as they went back to the others. “You weren’t on the jury.”

Alicia cuddled Joshua in both hands, feeling him squirming against her chest as she saw the ladies seated in the front room. The women were in a circle discussing their next moves, and Roselyn had her back to the newcomer – which was just how Alicia wanted it, the better to creep up behind her while shaking her head at Shay spotting her first and about to say hi.

“So we’re going to have to-“ Roselyn had started, before feeling a little hand brushing her hair.

“Mommy,” Joshua gurgled, and Roselyn’s face lit up like a fireworks display.

“JOSHUA!” With a cry of joy, Roselyn scooped her son into her arms, cooing and laughing in delight. It had been so long since she’d been with him outside an institution – so very long. “Mommy missed you SO much…”

“Oh, he’s so CUTE!” Blake cried next to her.

“I thought you said you weren’t the mothering kind,” Roselyn laughed.

“He’s a guy, she’s Blake, you work it out,” Shay chuckled, looking warmly at the infant as Olivia and Hayden made it unanimous, forgetting their troubles for a moment.

“It won’t be long now,” Roselyn told Joshua, wondering if the enormous smile he was sporting had something to do with so many gorgeous women making a fuss over him.

“No, it won’t,” Alicia agreed, turning her smile onto Roselyn.

* * * * * * * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, the six women had become four – Alicia and Roselyn had disappeared to another room, leaving Joshua in the capable hands of Blake Lively, Shay Mitchell, Hayden Panettiere and Olivia Wilde.

“So how do we keep the kid busy till they’re finished?” Shay asked.

“Maybe we could sing to him?” Hayden suggested.

“It’s always singing with you, isn’t it?” Olivia said. “Anyway, I can’t sing for shit.”

“Like that ever stopped Avril Lavigne,” Blake replied.

“Excuse me?!” Shay snapped.

“Chill, guys…” Olivia told them before Lavigne’s biggest fan could take action. “Maybe we could get him something to eat.”

“We haven’t got any baby food in there,” Hayden pointed out. “I’ll go and check Alicia’s-“

“WAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

Shay winced – toddlers crying went through her like a knife. Olivia looked like she desperately wanted to be somewhere else as well, and Hayden sped up her search of Alicia’s supplies. When it came to noisy kids, every second counted…  at least the kid didn’t sound like he needed to have his diaper changed. That, none of them was looking forward to doing. Going up against the cops and Mitra they could handle, but they could not put up with the literal kind of shit.

“Relax, ladies,” Blake said briskly as she unbuttoned her top. “I got this.”

Olivia and Shay’s attention went from Joshua to Blake as the moled blonde let out a full breast with one hand and scooped up the howling tot, resting him on her chest with his mouth near her nipple. The crying stopped like a tap had been turned off, the boy drawing Blake’s pokie between his lips and drinking her milk. He gurgled happily in her arms, his hands touching her chest as if she was his first love.

“I may not want kids of my own but I’ve done my share of babysitting,” Blake explained as Hayden, noticing the sudden calm, came back from the kitchen and watched the scene, mixing being impressed with knowing exactly how Joshua felt.

“What kind of babysitter were YOU?” asked Olivia.

“A very effective one, thank you very much,” Blake replied, cuddling Joshua as he suckled at her nipple before she started to take him on a stroll around the room. “Drink up, kid…”

“Why didn’t either of you think of that?” Hayden asked.

Shay folded her arms tightly, as Olivia indicated her less-than-ample rack.

“Oh.”

* * * * * * * * * *

In the next room it was a case of like mother, like son; Roselyn Sanchez had one of Alicia Keys’s nipples in her mouth as she tasted her lover’s breast, eagerly fondling the other nipple. No matter how long it went between time with Alicia, it was always too damn long.

“I should be sucking on yours,” Alicia gasped, rubbing Roselyn’s chest. “Perkier than mine any day.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Roselyn laughed. As Roselyn lapped on Alicia, part of her reflected on how in a way she’d simply swapped one prison for another – limited time in Remy Hadley, limited time in this building… journeying down to kiss Alicia’s stomach, she just wanted to be able to be with her woman for as long as she wanted. Then she put the burgeoning pity party out of her head as she tongued Alicia’s sexy little bellybutton – as long as Alicia Keys was here she was going to make every second count. The nude biracial woman let out a loud moan as the Cuban’s tongue moved down her body to her snatch; Roselyn was hungry, and Alicia was there for the feasting.

Alicia looked down to see the top of Roselyn’s head bobbing away, her tongue moving like lightning as her hands fondled Alicia’s satiny thighs. Alicia knew Roselyn had had “company” during their six months apart, while she herself had contented herself with masturbatory aids ranging from vibrators to Kayden Kross films when not visiting the prison – but she wasn’t the kind to take the moral high ground on that; if it had been vice versa Alicia Keys wasn’t sure how long she’d have been able to hold out. She gasped again as Roselyn thrust her tongue deep inside her sex, counting down the seconds until they could switch places and she’d be between her partner’s long limbs.

Maybe Roselyn was moving faster than she normally did because she knew they didn’t have too much time to waste – but she didn’t let her pace reduce the quality of her work. Alicia shook on the bed as she felt Roselyn’s mouth loving her, sending her to the heights sooner than she’d planned…

“Fast worker,” Shay commented as Alicia’s screams of passion burst from the bedroom, before glancing at Joshua, now fast asleep in Blake’s arms with a contented look on his face and a little milk still on his lips.

“How come he didn’t wake up?” Hayden asked.

“The way those two keep looking at each other? He’s probably used to it,” Olivia chuckled.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alicia was next to Roselyn as the gang gathered in the front room, the others sitting on the floor or on chairs with Joshua curled up on the sofa still asleep, a smile on his face all the while.

“Wonder what my little man’s dreaming of?” Roselyn said.

“I might have some idea…” Hayden laughed, eyeing Blake.

“So what’s the state of play?” Alicia asked.

“We’re going after Monica Bellucci,” Shay told her. “There’s a good chance she’ll be able to get hold of Rhona’s home address for us, but we’ve gotta get Monica after hours.”

“And we’ve only got two candidates for the job,” Olivia added.

“I could do it,” Alicia offered.

“NO!” Roselyn said sharply. “What possible excuse could you come up with? And suppose she thinks you’re working with us and calls the cops – who’s going to take care of Joshua then?”

“So that only leaves JoAnna and Troian,” said Hayden. “I say we should send JoAnna.”

“Why?” asked Blake.

“Because I don’t want baby girl risking herself any more than she already is,” replied the blonde.

“Same reason I’m voting for Troian,” Shay parried.

“Love’s grand, ain’t it?” Alicia said ruefully.

“I’ll say JoAnna,” Blake chipped in. “Monica wouldn’t have any reason to think she’s involved.”

“My vote’s for Troian,” said Olivia. “She could say it’s for Channel Five as part of a followup they’re doing on us.”

“Yeah, that could work,” Roselyn agreed. “Motion carried – Troian it is.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to do it,” Alicia said sarcastically.

“Troian can be pretty persuasive when she wants to,” Hayden assured her. “Plus with those legs maybe Monica’ll be so turned on she’ll just give her the information in return for some sexy funtime.”

“I could do with some sexy funtime now,” Olivia mused. “Maybe with Navi.”

“I thought you liked guys,” smiled Roselyn.

“I do, but…” Olivia smiled back. “It can get a little lonely sometimes, and she was pretty hot.”

“We’ll take care of you before this is all over, relax,” Shay chuckled.

“Something else we have to take care of,” Roselyn continued. “Blake? It’s time.”

Shay gulped, hoping no one had noticed, as the tall blonde headed to the kitchen.

“She had me do this the day we got here,” Blake explained to Alicia en route. “Saving them for when we couldn’t hold off any longer.”

“Hold off what?” Mrs. Sanchez-in-waiting asked as Blake returned, the wooden ends of five matches sticking out of her clenched right fist.

“Hold off the draw to see which one of us sends Rhona Mitra to hell,” Roselyn explained. “Whoever gets the burnt match gets the job.”

“And if it’s Megan or Emma, she gets to lower the boom when we get them out,” Olivia added. “I’m going to draw for Megan, Hayden’s got Emma.”

Blake looked at the five matches she’d just swizzled around with her eyes shut as the other women gathered close around her, their fingers ready. “All right guys, on three… one… two… THREE.”

Each woman went for a match, and a moment later Blake let out a relieved sigh on seeing she’d drawn an unlit one.  Alicia also looked happy to see Roselyn’s hand brandishing her similarly unused match; Roselyn Sanchez had never gone in for murder, and despite the circumstances Alicia didn’t want her to start now.

Shay Mitchell sat there as if she was all alone, staring at her match.

And the blackened stump at its tip.

* * * * * * * * * *

“So how’s the next Megyn Kelly?” Ashley’s mother asked.

“Mom, I’m not there yet,” Ashley replied, wishing they were chatting on the phone and not via Skype so she could grimace the way she always wanted to whenever anyone mentioned Fox News. “Getting a step closer though…”

“Oh?” asked Mom.

“The station manager called me in today,” the blonde continued. “Apparently TPTB at the network got in touch and-“

“TPTB?”

“The powers that be,” Ashley translated.  “Anyway, they’re looking to get reporters for their national news show and guess who’s on their list?”

“So the whole country’s going to be seeing my baby?” the Benson maternal unit smiled. “All the way to the top, Ashley!”

“Hang on a minute,” her daughter said briskly. “I’ll have to call you back – I’ve got to take this message…”

This message was an indication that there was another person who wanted to have a video chat. Normally Ashley would’ve been fine with dividing her attention between the two people on the other end, but the person wanting to talk wasn’t inclined to share. Or wait.

“Is it work-related?” Mom asked.

“Oh yeah,” Ashley said. “Call you back, ‘kay? Love you!”

“I love you, baby! Knock ‘em dead!” Her mother’s fist punching the air was the last thing Ashley saw before closing that window, and clicking open the other one.

Ashley kept her smile intact, as much as she didn’t want to – just because she owed Rhona Mitra a lot didn’t mean she had to like her. Or the woman sitting next to her in the back of their limousine, sporting a grin with truly astonishing shit-eating capabilities and radiating MILF waves – something the young man sitting in between them looked very aware of. If only he knew he was catching a ride with two Grade A cunts… Ashley couldn’t say “Poor kid,” but she could think it.

“Hello, Miss Benson,” Rhona said without smiling, even though she had her hand stroking the poor kid’s right thigh. “I trust tonight’s top story will be what we discussed?”

“Signed, sealed and delivered,” Ashley assured her.

Since becoming a marquee name, Ashley had been getting some influence in how the main news bulletins were ordered and shown on air. Not enough to be in charge every single night because even Ashley knew there were limits to the weight that could be thrown around, but enough to make sure that one R. Mitra’s interests were pretty well represented. Tonight, for instance, would give prominence to the brutal murder of several gang members visiting San Francisco; they had all been found in one location, each shot in the head like it was Mexico or something.

The members belonged to one of Rhona’s rivals elsewhere in the state, arranged so said rival would understand just who was in charge around here – as well as to send a message to the people from Nevada that she was currently in negotiations with, message being that they WOULD handle things her way or not at all. This would also be beneficial for Rhona’s female friend, who smiled up at Ashley; since Carol Vorderman had had some trouble in the past from the same group, this was a bit of a weight off her shoulders.

“That won’t be a problem,” Ashley assured Rhona.

“Of course not,” Rhona replied. “This is my friend Carol Vorderman; her husband is a very big fan of your body.”

“Of work, obviously,” Carol added with a knowing smirk.

“Yeah. Of work,” said Ashley.

“This young man is one of her interns,” Rhona continued, as the guy waved at Ashley. “He’s a man of few words… or should that be no words, because he lacks the ability to speak.”

“But he’s better at his job than many people who can,” Carol continued.  “And he never wastes time on the phone.”

Lowering her voice to a stage whisper, Carol added “Plus he has a beautiful cock on him.”

“Carol!” Rhona said in mock anger. “You’re a married woman!”

“He knows, and he doesn’t mind – do you Scott?”

Scott, smiling sheepishly, shook his head as Ashley resisted the temptation to put her head in her palms. Although she had to admit he was pretty damn tasty, she had had these meetings before and she knew what was coming.

“Carol and I have had a rather stressful morning,” Rhona continued, “and we need something to help us relax. Something non-alcoholic, preferably.”

“What’s your poison?” Ashley asked, as if she didn’t know.

“Stand up,” Rhona said.  “And step back from the screen until I tell you to stop.”

The blonde got up and moved away, walking backwards and hating how her screen was so large; Rhona and Carol’s faces would get small, but not small enough.

“Stop,” said Rhona. “Now please show Miss Vorderman your legs.”

Ashley had come to work that day in a pantsuit; a nice dark brown number. Remembering to keep a smile on her face as if she couldn’t wait to do it, she unzipped the pants and stepped out of them, displaying her lithe pins and silken panties. Carol’s grin became wider as Ashley told herself not to let cracks show – she was fine with showing off what she had, but she preferred it on her own terms.

“Scott never stops smiling when he watches you,” Carol said. “He really wants to see your breasts. So does hubby. And so do I,” she added, a hungry look on her face.

“You know what to do,” Rhona added.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ashley said quietly, hating it more and more as she unbuttoned her shirt. Most of all she hated how she had decided to go braless today, a decision she really hadn’t regretted until now. Rhona and Carol’s eyes zeroed in on Ashley’s perky breasts as she let the shirt slide off her onto the floor, putting the palms of her hands underneath them and letting them jiggle a little, her smile getting a little genuine (she loved fondling herself, even if it was for people she didn’t like).

“Leave us now,” Rhona told Scott. Without a word, the young man exited the limousine, letting his eyes flick briefly Benson-wards.

“I wish my boobs still looked like that,” Carol said, not paying the slightest attention to Scott’s departure. “If she was here with us, I would be licking on those for days.”

“Why, thank you,” Ashley replied, wishing it had been from that cute guy they had just booted out.

“My husband has never been sure what he should be more impressed by,” Carol continued, “your screen personality or your bottom. Perhaps you should let us see the latter just to be sure.”

Ashley pivoted around and crouched down out of webcam range, slipping off her panties before rising, her bare backside hitting the centre of Rhona and Carol’s viewing screen.

“Oh my,” Carol smiled. “Definitely your bottom.”

The blonde bent herself forward, thrusting her behind forward and spreading it open. Rhona nodded approvingly; she hadn’t had to urge her on this time.  Both women studied Ashley’s snatch and backdoor, Carol licking her lips.

Ashley couldn’t see Carol leaning forward to kiss the screen image of her asshole, for which she was grateful – but she could see the door open, and Scott come in. How many copies of her key had Rhona made, anyway? She didn’t dare ask – she only knew that like the other times this had happened, there was nothing she could do about it. Still, as the boy came towards her while removing his clothes, Ashley reflected that it could have been worse. Hell, it HAD been worse.

Some of them had been much, much worse. This guy Scott though… Ashley had to admit that what he was displaying as he shed his clothes wasn’t bad at all; he looked like he spent a fair bit of time at the gym when he wasn’t doing whatever Vorderman told him to do. He took care of his teeth as well, as Ashley saw when he smiled at her, his eyes sparkling as he took in her nakedness. Almost as much as hers were on taking in his.

“That’s a nice package he has there, isn’t it?” Carol asked Ashley.

“Oh yeah,” the reporter replied, estimating his cock was about a seven-incher. Not the biggest she’d had, but she could take that in no problem.

“Unfortunately this isn’t about what you want,” Rhona said. “It’s about what we want. So no head for him today.”

“Shit,” Ashley thought behind the smile.

“Show the nice man your bottom, Ashley,” Carol said cheerily. “Don’t worry, we know you have to prepare for the evening’s broadcast – he’s not going to sodomize you.”

“Thank you,” the blonde said, daintily twirling around and presenting her rear view to the lad. Keeping the smile up, Ashley pretended she didn’t see Carol leaning forward and touching the screen on a spot which would have corresponded with where her vagina was on their image.

Scott showed he believed in action, rather than words, by moving right behind her and kissing her shoulderblades while his arms encircled her front, cupping her breasts in his hands. He squashed them and fondled them, getting her nipples in between two fingers of each hand. Ashley turned to face him, wishing that they weren’t in front of the webcam so she could keep the two criminals from seeing everything.

Ashley kissed Scott as he moved his fingers around her body; she didn’t know why he wasn’t speaking, and she didn’t care. Scott returned the kiss before starting to taste her jugs, one hand fondling her butt and the other heading between her legs, enjoying how moist she was getting there. Ashley took his cock in her hand, feeling its long hardness continuing to swell as she stroked it. It was so rare to come across a cute guy who had some serious baggage in his trousers; if she hadn’t had an audience she’d have popped this in her mouth and sucked him dry.

Scott’s hands both moved onto Ashley’s ass, lifting her up and setting her onto the table with her legs opened slightly – just enough for him to get access. Ashley reflected that it was fortunate you couldn’t zoom in with webcams, or they might have tried to get a closeup of the guy’s erection going inside her… her closed eyes and open mouth relayed that moment perfectly to Rhona and Carol, the latter blissfully remembering the last time she’d been on the receiving end of that organ.

Ashley ground back against Scott as he began to pump her. She fondled his body, not letting herself be distracted by the lipstick mark on one of his shoulders (a souvenir from that morning, the last time he and Carol had fucked) as she felt him filling the spot between her legs. In and out it went, building up the rhythm as he ground against her; every stroke heated her up more as she waited for the inevitable.

Unbeknownst to Ashley, Rhona actually could zoom in – thereby getting herself a perfect close shot of Scott’s lengthy rod sliding in and out of the reporter’s soaking blonde pussy. He was thrusting it in her up to his balls, and gradually getting faster; her eyes were watching the cock going back and forth with no little envy.

“How long can he go for?” Rhona asked Carol in a low voice, the better to keep Ashley from hearing.

“If I hadn’t done him before we arrived, probably half an hour,” her friend replied. “He’ll be finished soon, I think.”

Indeed, he was already starting to thrash beside Ashley, the blonde reporter clutching and clawing him as she bucked against his body, wishing that just once Rhona would let her hook up again with the guys she’d procured for their pleasure. He was heating up her box for days, and she loved how Scott’s hot cock felt inside her so much that she wouldn’t have minded if he came inside her and the hell with condoms…

“NOOOO!!!!” Ashley wailed, feeling him move all the way back and out. The guy may have been considerate enough not to want to impregnate her, but this was about what SHE wanted – and she didn’t want Scott to pull out right on the verge of leaving his payload inside her. Screw what Rhona said, she wanted and needed that juice… mid-orgasm she quickly dropped to her knees as Scott moved off the desk and stood on the floor.

She was fast, but Scott was faster – before she had time to risk Rhona’s wrath by gulping his jizz, the white stream shot out of his tip, splattering Ashley’s face. With his right hand clutching his shaft, Scott guided the creamy fluid along her face, sending it along her cheeks, lips and nose, with some of it even landing in her hair. And it and he just kept on coming… holy guacamole, how long could this go on? Ashley wasn’t crazy about bukkake, but what she tasted of him was so good that she could forgive him. Especially with how she was feeling inside in general and between her legs in particular.

Rhona could also forgive Ashley for trying to have a gobble, because of how she was capturing the whole display for posterity; as she had done each time Ashley performed for her, she stopped the recording.

“This one’s a keeper,” Carol laughed.

“They all are,” Rhona assured her softly. “For insurance. Just in case Miss Benson should get a little above herself.”

The women watched as Ashley, flushed with the afterglow, kissed Scott’s shaft while forcing herself to leave it at that. “Nice…” she breathed, looking up at him and unable to think of anything else to say. Scott didn’t have to say anything – his huge smile did it all.

As the blonde got up, she thought that all of this would come to a stop someday… that someday she’d be completely untouchable. And when that day came, she’d think of a way to get Rhona Mitra off her back without getting herself killed. It would be hard, but Ashley Benson knew you could do anything if you wanted it badly enough. Yeah, she owed where she was now to Rhona, but it didn’t mean she was stuck with her for life.

“Thank you, Ashley,” Rhona said calmly. “Scott, I’ll see you shortly.” And ignoring whatever Ashley was about to say, she terminated the connection.

“Putting out sex tapes would embarrass her, I agree,” Carol said thoughtfully, “but it wouldn’t be the end of her career. It’s not like she’s sleeping with Shetland ponies or Dobermans or whatever.”

“No, Miss Benson has not made love to a creature,” Rhona agreed. “Yet.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Kate Mara looked so girly you’d have thought she’d yowl or something at how hot the coffee was, so it always kind of impressed Troian Bellisario that she could drink it so easily. It helped that it was a whole lot better than the kind she’d had to put up with at Channel 7, yeah, but still.

Troian wasn’t really in the mood for talking any more than Kate was. No one liked having to read news stories about missing people being found dead, but it was much, much worse when it was someone you knew; it had taken all of Kate’s professional poise to relay the news about the search for the long-missing Katy Bailey having come to a tragic end that morning. She didn’t care if Katy worked for a rival station and she didn’t care what Miss Bailey liked to put inside her body, Katy had been a friend… to disappear off the face of the earth after being fired, and then turn up in a field by the Mexican border – she didn’t deserve that.

And Troian, who HAD been a colleague of the late Miss Bailey, had shed tears freely when Kate read the story, being thankful that she was behind the cameras. Kate, who’d done a little crying of her own after the news, was grateful for the company that lunchtime – even though the two hadn’t said anything, just sat there in the diner having coffee and silently commiserating.

Troian heard the phone in her pocket, indicating a message was coming in. It could wait till she got home.

Even if it WAS from Hayden.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Alba and Julie Bowen were another pair having some coffee, as the two stood in the corridor on their break.

“So you’re still looking to get a transfer?” Jessica asked Julie.

“Yeah; maybe to a men’s prison this time,” the blonde laughed. “Seriously, my fiancé really wants me to get another gig. Says being associated with the big breakout makes me look bad.”

“Not as bad as it makes Winslet look, and she’s staying around…”

Jessica and Julie paused to watch a small, slim, sexy blonde dressed for success briskly pass them by, a somewhat pissed-off look on her face. Both guards watched her walk up the corridor before Julie shook herself out of it.

“Not three-way material, not three-way material,” she told herself hastily.

“You hold that thought,” said Jessica, dumping her emptied cup in the trashcan before heading up the corridor herself…

“Great legs,” Helen Mirren murmured as she passed by Agent Kristen Bell on her way to the gym.

“Thank you,” Kristen replied, on her way to the courtyard.

At least there was an English blonde at Remy Hadley who was happy to see her; even though she’d arranged beforehand to visit Warden Winslet for some more questions, Kristen had been kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Seriously, how long could a meeting be?

“Well, THAT was a waste of time,” Kristen muttered, heading to the helicopter as her hair blew into her face, thanks to a sudden blast of wind. As the helicopter started up, she reflected that she couldn’t even come back with a warrant…

“AGENT BELL! AGENT BELL!”

The hair still in her face, Kristen brushed it aside and saw a woman racing towards her – one of the guards, and a pretty foxy one at that; long brown hair, the kind of coffee complexion other Latinas would kill for, and lips that under other circumstances she would’ve kissed for days. So why was she in such a hurry to talk to her? Declaration of love?

“What can I do for you?” Kristen asked as Jessica Alba caught up with her.

“I tried to talk to you last time you and the other two were here, but by the time I was through clearing some stuff up you were gone,” Jessica panted.

“Call me when I get back down – I really gotta go…”

“This can’t wait!” Jessica interrupted. “It’s about Scarlett getting beaten up…”

“We’re working on it,” Kristen assured her. “When we find the San Fran 8 we’ll find out which one of them hurt Johansson.”

“That’s just it! It wasn’t any of them!”

Kristen hesitated for a moment, and then shouted to the pilot “SHUT IT DOWN!” before turning back to the anxious guard.

“What do you mean, it wasn’t any of them?” the agent asked. “We heard from Scarlett herself that one of them did it after they gangbanged her during the breakout.”

“Scarlett’s always been willing to be a little… friendly with the prisoners, all right? That much’s true. And she got knocked out, yeah, but it didn’t last long and Cate called us all together to go after them, and she called Scarlett into the locker room and…” Jessica swallowed. “We all heard Cate Blanchett beating the shit out of her. I swear she would’ve killed her if she’d gone on-“

“And none of you went in there to stop her?” Kristen interrupted.

“Cate is one seriously scary fucker,” Jessica told her. “None of us wanted to be on the receiving end of that stick of hers, not after what she did to Summer Glau…”

“But she told us that it was one of the prisoners!”

“WHICH ONE?!?” Jessica shouted. “If Scarlett had wanted to say which one it was, she’d have said! So which one did she say do it?!”

Kristen stood there for a moment, before taking out her card. “You call me when I get back to base,” she told Jessica. “I want you to come down and make a statement… you ready to do that?”

“Definitely,” the guard replied. “I’ll be ringing you when I sign out.”

“Thanks,” Kristen finished, before nodding to the pilot as Jessica walked away, tucking the card into her top.

As Kristen boarded the chopper, the two things that had occurred to her following what Jessica had said kept turning over in her head – one, there was no reason for Scarlett not to at least try to name the prisoner who’d beaten her. And two, Kristen hadn’t PERSONALLY spoken to her…

…but Beverley Mitchell had. She made a note to ask her exactly what Scarlett had said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dr. Freema Agyeman finished making her notes on the patients’ progress, the calm and professionally detached look on her face hiding her relief. She was a doctor and she liked to keep a distance, but she still didn’t like to lose any patient.

She could see Jennifer Lawrence’s bed from her office; the young prisoner had been on the uptick over the past few hours. The doctor had been silently rooting for her the most – anyone who landed on Jaime Pressly didn’t deserve to die young, good or not.

Dr. Agyeman had promised to keep Scarlett’s family informed on the woman’s condition, and though the young guard wasn’t out of the woods yet it was promising. Better yet, the views of all concerned that Cate Blanchett was a fighter were true – she’d stabilized, and one of the nurses had even claimed to have heard her mumble something. Dr. Agyeman had put that down to the fetish Nurse Watts had for Australians – until she heard Blanchett mumbling herself.

Though the doctor wasn’t the type to cross her fingers, she was willing to lay money on both guards at least being able to talk in the next few days.

* * * * * * * * * *

As the programme started, Olivia Wilde squirmed in her chair.

“Yeah, I hate this show myself,” Roselyn said sympathetically.

“It’s not that…” Olivia replied, reaching into her pants pocket. “The phone’s on maximum vibration, AGAIN.” That last word was accompanied by a glare aimed at Hayden as she pulled the phone out.

“Hey, what’s up?…It’s for you.” Olivia handed the phone to Miss Panettiere. “Your girlfriend. And turn it down a notch next time.”

“Sorry,” Hayden mouthed. “Hey, Troian…”

“Did I wake you up?” the brunette asked from her bed.

“Nah, we’re all still watching TV till we drop off. I can’t sleep anyway.”

“You heard about Katy, huh?”

“Yeah,” said the blonde. “Poor girl – I was kinda hoping she’d turn up… you know. I wish I could get in touch with the family…”

“I heard Channel 7 dedicated the main news to her,” Troian added. “Even after they fired her.”

“Bastards,” Hayden said about her former employers.

“Ain’t that the truth,” agreed Troian, pausing before continuing.  “I got your message… what’s the job?”

“We have to get Mitra’s home address… how do you feel about paying a visit to a hot Italian realtor?” asked Hayden.

“At home or at work?”

“It’s gotta be at home. Ideally without Mrs. Grande around.”

“Get it by any means necessary, right?” Troian asked, allowing herself to smile.

“Lady’s the winner,” replied Hayden.

“I’m on it,” her girlfriend assured her.

“We all owe you big time. Vaya con Dios, Troian.”

“You too, baby girl,” said the brunette. “You too.”

* * * * * * * * * *

There weren’t enough chairs in Jessica Biel’s office for everyone there to sit down, so someone had to be the loser. Tammin Sursok wasn’t sure how she’d become that loser, but at least she could now literally look down on Beverley Mitchell.

“So what’s so important that we had to get in here first thing in the morning?” Kristen Bell asked Jessica.

“We’ve finally gotten a break in the Mitra case,” Jessica answered. “Tell ‘em, BJ.”

“We got ourselves a witness,” Tammin told them, managing to put on enough of her professional face to hide the joy she was feeling at being the centre of attention for reasons related to her job for once. “She used to work at the Spectacular-“

“Lemme guess, a waitress?” Kristen interrupted.

“She was one of the strippers, all right?” Tammin headed her off with. “Her name’s Victoria Justice, and she was one of the regular girls who our friend Rhona Mitra had some fun with. She got in touch with me just after we got back from LA-“

“Why you?” Kristen interrupted.

“Do that again and I’ll make you eat Rebel Wilson’s ass until she screams,” Jessica chided the agent. “Go on, BJ.”

“Anyway,” Tammin continued, enjoying the look of absolute disgust on Kristen’s face, “Victoria’s seen Rhona hanging around with like this all-star squad of California’s Most Wanted – Carol Vorderman, Beyonce Knowles, Oprah Winfrey, Stephanie Seymour, Kris Jenner… the girl’s had to get up close and personal with some of them herself, because Rhona likes to make her staff ‘available.’”

“With WINFREY?!” Kristen groaned. “Poor kid.”

“She may have seen them together, but that’s not enough by itself,” Beverley said.

“Is fucking young women enough?” Tammin asked. “Because Victoria’s had front row for Rhona and some of her cronies pulling that as well. More than once – apparently Mitra likes it when people watch, especially if they look like Victoria.”

“So? That’s not a crime,” Kristen pointed out.

“It is when the girls aren’t even 15,” Tammin replied quietly.

“Whoa,” the blonde said. “Did NOT know she swung that way.”

“She swings all ways,” Tammin said. “And one more thing… Victoria has a feeling she saw Rhona have someone killed.”

“No way!” Beverley cried.

“Yes way. Victoria had had a session with Mitra and another of the women called Charisma Carpenter, and she heard Rhona talking on the phone with someone – Victoria thinks she was called Julianne. Anyway, Rhona told her to take care of this person called Tracy Mills.”

“Tracy Mills…” Jessica mused. “That name rings a bell.”

“She was the one in line for warden at Remy Hadley,” Kristen said. “The one who took a dive off the Golden Gate. Guess we know now it wasn’t jump or fall, more like push.”

“This is still all hearsay,” Beverley protested. “You haven’t got any real proof.”

“But we’ve got somewhere to start looking now,” Jessica replied. “Does she know any of these girls’ names? The ones Rhona was babyfucking?”

“Yeah, she’s got some,” Tammin said.

“We’ll have to get her down here so we can get the whole story,” Jessica continued.

“Already taken care of,” the agent replied with a warm smile. “Victoria Justice is in the city right now… she’s staying with me until we can get her to testify. Girl wants Rhona Mitra taken down even more than Kristen does.”

“As of now, your place will be under 24-hour surveillance,” Jessica said, picking up her phone. “Can you trust her not to go anywhere, or should I have someone staying with her when you’re not there?”

“Victoria trusts me like she doesn’t trust her old boss,” said the agent. “She’ll stick around.”

“If she’s staying with you she must REALLY trust you,” Kristen laughed. “She pretty?”

“She gorgeous,” Tammin replied, hoping she wasn’t sounding too enthusiastic.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You gotta hand it to BJ,” Kristen told Beverley a few moments after Jessica had shooed them all out. “Thinking that trip to LA got us nothing but some more Frequent Flyer miles and all the time she was getting us a little crack in Rhona’s suit of armour. Almost proud of her.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Beverley replied.

“Before you dash, I got something I wanna ask you,” Kristen continued.

“Gotta keep,” her colleague replied. “Nature calls…”

Watching her race to the ladies’ room, Kristen chuckled. Serve her right for not draining before she left home.

Safely ensconced in the stall, Beverley plucked her cellphone from her top…

“And you can’t volunteer to be Miss Justice’s part-time guard?” Rhona Mitra asked once she’d been apprised of recent developments.

“I’m too busy around here,” Beverley said. “Besides, BJ already doesn’t trust me.”

“Your trust issues with her are of less importance than that little tart not wrecking my life,” Rhona replied icily. “Deal with her.”

“I can find a way,” Beverley assured her.

“And if you have to get rid of Agent Sursok…”

“I hope it’ll come to that,” Beverley said. “I got the boss around my little finger and on her back, but if BJ keeps snooping around someone’ll start taking her seriously one day.”

“Why do you keep calling her BJ?” Rhona asked.

“Short for Blow Job Lips,” the agent replied, keeping herself from adding “I keep telling you this.”

“However you handle it, try to make it look like an accident. I’m sure you can do that.”

“It might not have to be,” Beverley suggested thoughtfully. “Scared witness, in a house with a gun… she and BJ argue, Victoria goes for the gun… and then she’s all ‘What have I done?’ and turns it on herself.”

The line was silent for a few moments, but Beverley knew better than to hang up.

“Yes,” Rhona replied. “Yes, that would work. An emotionally fragile young woman in a situation like this, coupled with a pressured FBI agent she’s involved with…”

“Plus she’s a stripper. And you know what they’re like,” Beverley laughed.

If she could have seen Rhona, she’d have been rewarded with a little knowing smile.

* * * * * * * * * *

With Kristen Bell’s card in one hand, Jessica Alba stood by the phone in her living room – all she had to do was pick it up and call.

What was stopping her was the content of the simple brown envelope she had in her other hand. Normally not getting any bills was a good thing, but today she’d have swapped what she’d found by her door for a Final Demand – it was a simple brown envelope, with nothing inside but a signed picture of her sister. It had been taken when sis was leaving work to get home to her husband and children, and it had not been signed by the picture’s subject; whoever had taken it had written “Not a word” on the glossy print.

Jessica knew from the second she saw it what this was about. Had it been a threat to her own life it would have been one thing, but going after her family was something else… she was a brave woman, but she did NOT want to drag the people she loved into this. Slowly she crumpled Kristen’s card up.

“Good girl,” the woman who’d dropped off the envelope – Julie Bowen -  said amiably. “I knew you’d see sense.”

“Just leave them alone,” Jessica said dully.

“Of course we will,” her fellow guard smiled. “You can count on it… now.”

* * * * * * * * * *

House rules, Emma Roberts reflected. She hadn’t even interrupted Rhona Mitra that time, and now here she was not being able to do anything but look at Hannah Davis.

Twenty minutes before, a dark-haired woman with large breasts on a small frame – she’d brought Emma her dinner the night before and called herself Emily Ratajkowski – had given the safecracker an injection of something just as she woke up. Whatever it was, at least it wasn’t an air bubble; Emily had assured her that it was just to keep her quiet, because Mistress Rhona wanted her at rest for this.

Emma wasn’t so much at rest as at not being able to move, and “this” had turned out to be Hannah Davis several feet away from her bed, stark naked and on her knees. That in itself could and should have been fun, except that Hannah was being fondled by Rhona’s ladyfriend – though fondling was an understatement for what Rosie Huntington-Whiteley was doing, since she was down on her knees with her face buried deep inside Hannah’s ass, her tongue licking away on the woman’s quim beneath as her fingers probed Hannah’s flesh. Rosie was clearly loving herself some fruit from the U.S. Virgin Islands.

The safecracker’s eyes rested on Hannah’s nipples, rock hard and erect with all the loving Rosie was giving her – Emma was so jealous of Rosie right now, and she was wishing that she could give Hannah some action like that. Emma took her eyes on a tour of Hannah’s body, from her lovely little face and its piercing green eyes, down her lithe form to her legs. Even the scars she had on them didn’t ruin it…

The scars. Emma stared at those scars running along the top of Hannah’s left thigh; her uniforms had kept them out of sight but now there they were. Kind of like the one Emma had on her butt, but longer – and in a row, as if someone had…

She tried to tell herself that Rosie or Rhona hadn’t had anything to do with them, that Hannah had just had some kind of accident with a rake or something. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t more like the visions that were suddenly filling her head, visions of Hannah being at Rosie’s mercy – Hannah being whipped, Hannah having pliers on her breasts, Hannah being forced to put things in her holes that she didn’t want there…

Hannah’s sighs and groans built up as Rosie began to kiss her way up the woman’s back, taking her own sweet time about it and pressing her small rack onto Hannah’s flesh.  When she reached the shoulderblades, Rosie turned to look at her audience.

“You’re lucky Roni doesn’t want me to play with her,” the English blonde giggled. “Not right now, anyway. Otherwise I’d have brought my special toys.”

Ever since Olivia Wilde had told them the story of how she’d been put in prison, Emma had never forgotten what Rosie meant by “playing.” The thought of that monster being turned loose on sweet little Hannah would, in a perfect world, have been enough to wipe out the drugs in her system – in THIS world, however, all she could do was watch Rosie kiss Hannah’s neck, before her nurse turned her face to look at Rosie and kiss her on the lips, tongue and everything as if she really wanted to do it.

Rosie’s left hand strayed down Hannah’s body to between her legs, where she made a fist and rested it on the other woman’s pussy. Then she slowly extended its middle finger, sinking it deep inside Hannah while her free hand felt around the floor searching for the one toy she had brought with her. Emma could see the sizeable dildo a few inches away, and had it been someone she actually liked rather than Rosie she’d have shouted “Colder! Colder! Warmer! WARMER! YEAH, BOILING HOT!” to guide the Huntington-Whiteley fingers on their journey.

Hannah’s hands rested on Rosie’s small jugs, squeezing them.

“C’mon, Hannah,” Rosie breathed, sliding her finger out to the middle knuckle and moving it back in again as her thumb found Hannah’s clit. “You can do it harder than that… you know how I like it.”

Rosie knew that Hannah actually couldn’t do it harder than that what with her having all the brute force of a particularly drowsy snail, but it was fun to feel her try. And it was even more fun to feel her digit inside this lovely Caribbean girl – no wonder she was so hot all the time. Looking into Hannah’s eyes and giving her love button a good flick and rub, Rosie found that dildo – out of her line of vision, but she knew which direction it was pointing.

With Hannah’s gorgeous cunt otherwise occupied, Rosie slipped the dildo into her mouth and gave it the blowjob treatment, working it around her tongue and fitting most of it inside until it was thoroughly lubed up. Then, still fingering the US Virgin babe, Rosie moved the dildo behind Hannah and positioned it on the cleft of her ass. Rosie kissed Hannah as she started to push it up her behind, slowly and steadily sliding it into her.

“Ooooohhh….” Hannah gasped from the dual assault, before she gave Rosie a little lovebite on her left breast as the willowy blonde started to move away from her. Hannah kissed Rosie’s chest, bending forward and moving further south as the other woman kept her fingers around Hannah’s crotch for as long as she could be comfortable, all the while with Rosie’s other hand inserting the dildo up Hannah.

Within moments Hannah was bent to an angle bringing her in line with Rosie’s pussy; as her tongue started savouring her box, Rosie was bent over herself above Hannah’s back, her boobs hanging down and brushing the flesh as she rested one hand on a buttcheek and the other on the dildo, thrusting it as far into Hannah’s behind as it could go. They made for a good circuit – Rosie’s little gasps as Hannah licked her out matching Miss Davis’s cries as she was sodomized, which drove her to eat Rosie further with each stroke, every thrust being a little more urgent than the last. Rosie shoved it harder and faster, driving through Hannah’s asshole like an engine and leaving little kisses on the small of her back as she listened to the other woman’s rising moans and cries.

Clutching Rosie’s legs, Hannah eagerly sucked and tasted her snatch while flooding Rosie with compliments. “Oh Rosie, this is SO sweet… I could eat this all day… and that feels so good… so, SOOOOO goooooOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDD….!!!!” Hannah forgot all about speaking as she felt herself reaching the heights – this fine English pussy plus the way she was getting fucked meant she had to come now… she couldn’t wait any longer…

All it took was one more stroke, and Hannah howled into Rosie’s pussy as the joy filled her body. She almost drew blood from gripping Rosie’s legs so hard, and the feel of two solid nipples on her back wasn’t helping… except it kind of was. Hannah quaked underneath Rosie as the Englishwoman pulled the dildo out of her gaping back door with a satisfied sigh, letting Hannah slowly come back up and rest against Rosie. Emma’s snatch was almost as soaked as Hannah’s; she wanted to do some of those things to Hannah Davis herself. Damn those drugs…

“Are you feeling better now?” Rosie asked the patient, one arm around the hyperventilating Hannah.

“Yeah, until you showed up,” Emma replied, not letting on how jealous she was.

“My fame precedes me,” the Englishwoman giggled. “I’ve got to change for your friend down the hall… Hannah, Paula’ll arrive shortly to take up where I left off. You haven’t met Paula Patton yet, have you? You’ll like her.”

“When am I going to get to join in…?” Emma asked.

“When you agree to join us outside the bedroom,” Rosie replied. “Until then, you can look all you want but Hannah’s beautiful body will be off limits to you. Direct orders from Roni.”

Emma shifted her gaze to Hannah, who – fucked as she had been into submission – could do nothing but nod. But as Rosie walked up to her bed, Emma noticed with no small touch of relief that Hannah’s eyes were showing exactly how she really felt.

Then she couldn’t see Hannah’s eyes, because the willowy English blonde rolled the supine Emma onto her front. Lying there, unable to do anything, she rolled her eyes as Rosie took in her bare behind, resting the palm of a hand on it.

“I could have so much fun with this now, if you just agreed to play along,” Rosie sighed. “Hannah has a nice one as well, doesn’t she?”

Rosie wielded the dildo that had been previously inside Hannah, and ran it along Emma’s ass cleft as the bedridden young woman resigned herself to being ruthlessly cornholed. She instinctively gritted her teeth to keep from yelling when Rosie pushed it in…

Except it didn’t happen. Rosie tapped Emma’s butt with it before resting it by her snatch; she couldn’t help but feel relieved. Yes, she knew where that had been just now, but if Rosie was going to give it to her that way she didn’t mind in the slightest. If only it had been Hannah behind her right now… Emma waited for the first strokes to light her up.

“Say yes and you’ll get all you want and more from Hannah,” Rosie cooed as if reading her mind. “But not until then.”

Damn. The girl really was a sadist.

“I do hope you say yes,” Rosie finished. “I’d hate for Roni to have to set up another accident.” Bending down, she kissed Emma’s ass before she turned and left the room, Hannah watching the prisoner sympathetically.

It had only been a light touch, but those last few words left Emma feeling as if Rosie had just hit her with a demolition ball.

* * * * * * * * * *

Unlike Emma Roberts, Megan Fox had never been able to get enough if any sleep for however long she’d been in this room. It seemed like someone was always in there, putting clamps on her tits or playing with her snatch – tying her down at all hours of the day or night. The only time she ever got a break was when she got to shower, and even then someone was always with her.

The weird thing was, that someone was always Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. While a small part of her was impressed that someone so skinny was so inexhaustible, most of Megan was on the verge of begging her to stop. And not in the way a masochist stopped by bringing her just to the edge of pleasure and then pulling back to keep her from coming… although Rosie, damn her, did that as well.

And now here was Megan, disorientated and sweaty, up in the air and completely naked. She was hanging from ropes and cords attached to the ceiling, and she could hear a clacking sound coming down from the hallway. Megan knew who would be coming in – that English girl again, ready for some more fun…

The door was pushed open and Rosie entered, dressed as if she was about to go on a steeplechase. With her skintight trousers and  black sleeveless jacket over a white shirt, Miss Huntington-Whiteley certainly looked the part – but Megan knew from the look on her face that the only filly she had any interest in riding that morning was Megan Denise Fox. And that nasty-looking riding crop she was holding in one hand would be leaving its mark on her legs, her chest, possibly even her cunt.

In her other hand Rosie was carrying a vibrator, which Megan knew from experience she wouldn’t mind stuffing into one of her own orifices before inserting it into Miss Fox. And the girl always knew just when to pull it out, to leave her practically begging for more just so she could finally have some relief. Rosie kept her eyes on the captive as she walked across the floor, noting how the bonds had Megan’s legs apart so she could see EVERYTHING.

Wielding the crop, Rosie flicked it upwards, having the tip touch Megan’s button. It wasn’t there long enough to cause any pain, but Megan had a feeling that was about to change.

“C’mon, Megan… you can’t fight it forever,” Rosie whispered. “You want some of me, don’t you? Don’t be shy, you know you do.”

“No… I….” Megan said in between gasps.

“Yes, you do. I know you do. They all do. Just play along,” the blonde said, stroking Megan’s thighs with the crop. “Such a pretty filly… we could have so much fun together…”

Rosie switched on the vibrator, bringing the whirring device up towards Megan’s face.

“You work with this… and I’ll work with this,” Rosie added, indicating the crop.

Feeling the crop on her flesh, Megan reflected that she may have had difficulty telling David Cameron from David Blaine, but one thing Rosie knew was sex. And she was right – they could have fun together. Megan might even get to come once in a while, or more than once. But she’d have to be cut down first.

And as the vibrator moved towards the brunette, she knew there was only one way any of this would end…

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” Megan screamed. “I’LL TELL YOU WHERE THEY ARE!”

Reply Reply to All Forward More

Victor Field <[email protected]>

To Victor Field

03/09/15 at 3:27 AM

The San Francisco Seven: The Payback, Part 1

Written by Victor Field and TRL

Starring in alphabetical order: Troian Bellisario, Ashley Benson, Jessica Biel, Hannah Davis, Kat Dennings, Megan Fox, JoAnna Garcia, Una Healy, Megan Hilty, Vanessa Hudgens, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Victoria Justice, Alicia Keys, Blake Lively, Kate Mara, Shay Mitchell, Rhona Mitra, Rachel Nichols, Hayden Panettiere, Emma Roberts, Roselyn Sanchez, Tammin Sursok, Olivia Wilde

Categories: FF, FFF, MF, con, oral, anal, lact, exhib, fist, bond, voy

* * * * * * * * * *

Son of a bitch.

Tracy Spiridakos had forgotten her wallet at home – she’d been in a rush to leave because she’d gotten up late because she’d been out with her girlfriends the night before because she was celebrating her promotion…  wow, this wasn’t the best way to start the weekend.

The young woman frantically felt her pockets and rummaged through her purse as she walked the last several yards – no money, but at least she still had her driver’s license, even if her damn car was in the garage again and she’d had to ride the subway like a common… like a common person without a car. And there was her bank, so the ID would come in handy to get some money out. Man, how did her parents get by without ATM machines? Tracy had to ask them the next time she was over there.

In she went, glad at least that it was early-ish and the lines at the counters weren’t too long; she darted to the shortest one, hoping that she wouldn’t have to be in here for a while.

“Good morning,” smiled the man behind the counter five minutes later.

“Hi!” Tracy countered.

“How’s the weekend so far?” he asked.

“Oh, it could be worse,” she said casually. “You?”

“Can’t complain, ma’am. What can I do for you this morning?”

“I could do with some cash,” Tracy replied, handing him her driver’s licence and handing it over, along with the withdrawal slip she’d filled in while waiting. “Otherwise I’ve got a long weekend of nothing to do.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” the man assured her. “This’ll just take a moment…”

He started to do his work on the keyboard, while Tracy glanced around the bank just to kill time. She didn’t want to tap her feet, but the sooner she had the money in her hands the sooner the weekend could really start…

“Ma’am, there seems to be a little problem with your account.”

“What do you mean?” Tracy asked. “I got paid yesterday – there should be enough in there, c’mon.”

“Well, according to this… your account’s empty.”

Tracy’s heart almost stopped; she shook her head as she stared at him. “Wh…. What?! That’s impossible! I’ve got like $7000 in there, I checked last night and it was there and now you’re telling me it’s gone?!”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am,” the man said sympathetically.

“No,” the young woman said hastily and disbelievingly. “No, that can’t be. Show me the screen.”

“Brace yourself,” he said as he swivelled the screen to face her. Tracy read the information on it, her eyes resting on the telling figure on the far right: 0.00.

“If you’ll take a seat one of our customer services personnel will see you in a few moments, and we’ll try and sort this out,” he continued, as Tracy’s eyes began to swim. This couldn’t be happening…  it just couldn’t.

“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” she moaned.

She didn’t wake up.

* * * * * * * * *

The women spent most of their first day as escapees asleep.

Megan had driven as long as she could before the adrenaline ran dry; they managed to get the van off the road and hidden before getting some rest, which was easier for some of them than others. But each one of them was slumbering as the world continued around them.

And above them, as a helicopter skimmed through the sky in the opposite direction…

“Seriously, is this a fucking joke?” asked Kristen Bell to no one in particular as the helicopter started its descent to the Remy Hadley courtyard. “Seven women bust out of here and no one manages to spot them? I mean, one I can understand but SEVEN?! What are they, invisible?”

“They must have some people helping them out,” Tammin Sursok mused in the seat opposite the pilot as she felt relief the flight was over – as hot as Kristen was, the moment she’d heard the San Francisco Eight… all right, the San Francisco Seven… had broken out of Remy Hadley the bitching and moaning had started. It hadn’t stopped on the way to their quickly arranged jet at LAX, it hadn’t stopped as they flew to Paradise and transferred to the chopper, and it wasn’t stopping now… Kristen probably did it in her sleep.

“Outside help? You worked that out by yourself? Well done, BJ!” Beverley Mitchell sarcastically clapped behind her as the helicopter landed.

Not for the first time, Tammin had mixed feelings over where she was sitting – on the one hand, she hadn’t had to sit right next to Teacher’s Pet Mitchell (she couldn’t bring herself to call her “Agent Mitchell” even mentally). On the other hand, she’d been tempted many, many times to kick Beverley out during the flight, and if there was any way at all she could have made it look like an accident she would have. At least she had someone in her corner now, someone she could unload to after hours who’d help it all go away for a while.

At least Tammin had Victoria Justice.

“All that time in LA getting less than nowhere at Spectacular – someone should sue that place for false advertising – and now we’ve got to talk to some meathead guards…” Kristen’s grumbling soundtracked the helicopter touching down.

“Welcome to Remy Hadley,” said Tom, the guard who was waiting by the landing spot.

“Hi!” Kristen smiled to the meathead, brandishing her ID just in case he thought they were flying Avon Ladies. “I’m Agent Bell, my friend is Agent Mitchell, and the one in front is Agent Sursok.”

“Three of you?” he asked.

“We all worked on the case back in San Fran,” Beverley explained, ignoring the brief but blazing glare Tammin gave her. “This breakout made us all look bad.”

“We’ve been taking a lot of heat about this too,” he confided as he escorted the three agents to the entrance, with two more guards standing by the helicopter just in case any of the convicts working outside got any ideas. “Especially since they attacked one of the guards getting out.”

“Oh yeah, I read the report – Scarlett Johansson, right?” Tammin said. “I hear she’s popular with the prisoners.”

“She certainly is, ma’am,” Tom agreed. “Several of them had sex with Scarlett during the escape.”

“During?!” all three Feds echoed in surprise.

“Yes, apparently that was part of their plan…”

“I thought that was made up!” Beverley laughed.

“Believe me, ma’am, everything you’ve heard about this place is true.”

Tom chuckled, but Tammin was still thinking about the other thing he’d just said. So a bunch of the San Fran Eight had gang-banged Scarlett in full view of the other prisoners, and she’d ended up at death’s door… but she’d been found in the guards’ quarters, far away from the route the gang had taken. She couldn’t have crawled all the way there from anywhere the escapees could have been in that condition. No way. And if they’d wanted to beat the woman to a pulp, why didn’t they just do it right there on the catwalk? She may have been a popular guard, but she was still a guard.

Even though it was a beautiful breezy morning, Tammin Sursok was smelling something nasty in the air.

* * * * * * * * * *

If there was one thing the current warden at Remy Hadley and her predecessor had in common, it was an appreciation for pairing up kittens and cougars.

When Alyssa Milano had given the go-ahead for the old cells to become playhouses for the guards, she had made one condition; she wanted to choose who the women to break it in would be (“Don’t worry, it’ll just be a one-time thing”). And thus Susan Sarandon and Taylor Swift became the first convicts to be banged, first by each other and then by the guards in attendance. That was also the first time proceedings had been filmed, as had all the assignations in there since. Including the time Warden Milano herself had made lifer Shannen Doherty her bitch.

Much as Kate Winslet had wished Alyssa hadn’t taken that particular video with her when she left, she had her own favourites. Like the one she and the agents were watching in her office; it had everything. Sex – all right, foreplay – and violence, plus Blake Lively naked. Kate, Tammin, Kristen and Beverley kept going back and forth between the gorgeous nude Blake tied up and the battle between Hayden Panettiere and Jaime Pressly, right up to when the victorious Hayden and the saved Blake left with the others.

“Whoa,” Kristen said, impressed.

“That’s what I thought as well,” Kate admitted.

“Man, I would *not* want to get between her and Lively,” Beverley added.

“I would,” said Tammin, Kristen and Kate as one, all with big grins.

“Anyway,” the warden continued, switching off the screen, “Miss Pressly used the panelling in that area to try and escape… and you know how that fared for her.”

“And Jennifer Lawrence,” Kristen added. “But why weren’t the guards sent straight to that cell once someone got there after lights out?”

“We’re not mindreaders, Agent Bell,” said the warden. “If we had known this was coming, we would have stopped it.”

“So they went there and then to the other block – and they managed to get a keycard just like that?” asked Tammin.

“It might have been one of the guards. Probably Johansson,” Kate suggested.

“That would make sense,” Beverley agreed. “Sweet-talked her into helping them out, then beat the shit out of her to keep her from selling them out.”

“But it was still a little too easy…” Tammin said thoughtfully. “I can see them researching the layout, but who got them all the stuff they needed inside? And we know you had Grace Park in here all the time like she was a consultant or—“

“I don’t like what you’re implying, Agent Sursok,” Kate told her stiffly. “Of course there are a few rotten apples in any barrel, but Remy Hadley is hardly a den of corruption. They got out despite our best efforts, and my head guard nearly lost her life in the process – your job is to get them back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Yeah,” Tammin sighed as she and the others got up. “So do we.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“So heads I talk to Johansson, tails you do,” Beverley said to Tammin.

“Deal,” Agent Sursok replied. “But you’re using MY coin.”

“Whatever,” Beverley grumbled, accepting Tammin’s dime and flipping it.

As the coin made its choice, the door opened and a lovely but cross face emerged. Freema Agyeman was in charge of Remy Hadley’s medical facility, and she did not like official visitors; her patients may have been convicts (plus guards), but they were patients.

“Cate Blanchett and Jennifer Lawrence are still comatose, but the others are awake,” she said without a hint of a hello.

“We’re just glad we might still have a chance to ask them what happened,” Tammin replied as the agents entered.

“Start with Jaime Pressly, then hit up Scarlett Johansson-WHAT?” Kristen asked, seeing the shocked looks Tammin and Dr. Agyeman gave her. “It’s just an expression.”

“Yeah, it’s not like we did it,” Beverley backed her up.

“Wrap up with Grace Park,” Kristen told the good doctor. “We won’t take up much of your time.”

“You shouldn’t take up any of it at all,” Dr. Agyeman replied.  “This way.”

This way led the three by a row of infirmary beds; there was rarely a time when the entire ward was empty, but there was rarely a time when the entire ward was occupied. Sarah Shahi and Kristen Stewart were asleep (and in restraints, in Stewart’s case), but it was the pair of Cate Blanchett and Jennifer Lawrence that caught Tammin’s eye. Both were in adjoining beds, connected to the machines that kept track of their every heartbeat; their bodies had been medically dressed, but the two of them had needed enough blood to make a vampire go “I’m good, thanks.” Several of the bullets the head guard had taken had shot clean through her body, but they’d still dug enough out of her to make a necklace; and Jennifer’s battered, scratched face was only the tip of the iceberg (the sewn-up wounds in her back, the smashed ribcage and other internal injuries when she’d hit the ledge a hundred feet down the mountainside with Jaime slamming onto her as SHE landed…).

Tammin patted one of Jennifer’s hands in passing as they got to Jaime Pressly, who glared at them through her oxygen mask. Her face was covered with stitched-up cuts, both her legs were in plaster, and had her gown been open the agents would have seen more bandages around her chest.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry for you,” the agent told the patient.

“Bite me, Fed,” Jaime muttered through her remaining teeth.

“Jaime Pressly of the Black Panty Gang,” Kristen said. “Just wasn’t your night, huh? First you get the crap beaten out of you by a dwarf, then you fall off a mountain. Aren’t you lucky you had Jenny Lawrence there to land on.”

“I ain’t talking to you,” the bedridden blonde replied.

“Why’d you turn on them?” Tammin asked. “Trying to get rid of Blake Lively and Jennifer like that – whatever happened to honour among thieves?”

“I said I ain’t talking to you,” Jaime grunted. “You can’t give me nothin’ ‘cause I’m never getting outta here.”

“It could be easier for you around here if you just tell us where they’re  going,” Beverley told her. “You had this all mapped out, you had to have an endgame.”

“Tell you what,” Jaime grimaced; even the morphine drip could only ease the pain so much. “One of you chops off the heads of the other two right here, right now, and I’ll talk.”

From Tammin’s POV Beverley’s head on a platter sounded like a good deal, but…

“Get worse soon, Pressly,” she hissed.

“You bring my girls back, hear?” Jaime called as strongly as she could. “I got unfinished business.”

The group studied Scarlett Johansson, lying a couple of beds down. Her face and what they could see of her body was covered with broken, puffed-up skin; Kristen shook her head. They’d really gone to town on this one.

Tammin noticed Scarlett’s eyes were watching them even more intently than Jaime, and her lips were trembling; almost like she had something she wanted to say to them, and had to get it out before she was too drained to say anything.

“Scarlett?” Beverley asked tenderly, leaning in towards the patient and willing herself not to be distracted by the effects of the beating.

“…not…”

“We’ll get them,” she told the guard. “I promise those prisoners will pay for what they did to you.”

Scarlett’s mind processed what Beverley was saying. The prisoners? No – they’d knocked her out but that was all… whatever else they’d done, they hadn’t done this. Scarlett struggled to get out what she had to say, but she was so tired… and she was so beaten…

“…wasn’t…” she whispered.

“Yes?” Beverley asked, leaning in closer.

“C’mon, BJ – let’s have a word with Gracie…” Kristen suggested, as she and Tammin withdrew.

“What is it, Scarlett?” asked the other agent. “Which ones did this?”

“…not… prisoners…” Scarlett breathed painfully.

“Huh?”

“…was… “ The guard paused to get some breath. “…was…Blanchett…”

“You mean…?” Beverley said, surprised.

Scarlett nodded as much as she could. “…Blanchett… beat me… tried… kill… Summer…  “

The agent returned the nod and rested a hand on Scarlett’s arm.

“…Cate… psycho… she did… this….” Scarlett sighed and closed her eyes. She was asleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

“The patient isn’t exactly in the best condition for this,” Dr. Agyeman informed Kristen sternly.

Agent Bell raised an eyebrow to that. “She was more than willing to consult with the warden during the escape, Doctor. If she can talk, I’ll talk with her.”

“Suit yourself, but I’m not leaving the room,” Freema said, matching Kristen’s expression. For some reason, Bell found the stubborn doctor incredibly hot in that moment. Under other circumstances…

“I’ll wait outside,” Tammin said, in a bid to not antagonise the doctor any further, and moved away.

“Grace Park, computer hacker, and illustrious member of the San Francisco Eight,” Kristen said, moving past Agyeman and towards her patient.

“Nice to be known, I guess,” Grace muttered through the oxygen mask over her mouth. One eye was completely swollen shut, the other was black and blue, matching a number of bruises up and down her arms and legs. A little over 12 hours ago, maybe 13, Grace had been beaten to a pulp by her former partners in crime just prior to their successful escape from Remy Hadley. An escape Grace had helped plan and execute.

“Here’s what I don’t get, Grace – you fully admit you helped plant a computer virus that let your little group escape from this joint. So what’d you do to piss them off and make them leave you behind?” Kristen asked.

“I made one too many passes at the straight blonde,” Grace mumbled between split lips.

“They left you behind, Park – why are you protecting them?”

“You’re going to find them. They’ll be back,” the prisoner said.

“True, true,” Kristen said, pacing around Park’s bed. “But then, you won’t, will you?”

“Huh?”

“Your file contains an interesting little piece of information you might not have heard yet, Park. You’re getting transferred. To the Valerii Kalakaua minimum security prison in Hawaii.”

“First I’m hearing of it,” Grace muttered.

“Really? Funny, how your transfer date was listed as tomorrow, exactly two days after the rest of your crew had planned on escaping.”

“Like I said, I don’t know anything about that.”

“You really didn’t know ANYTHING about a transfer from this place to what’s essentially a resort for criminals in Hawaii? A smart girl like you, Grace?” Kristen scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No one’s asking you to believe it. It just is.”

“Yeah, well, I think there’s something else going on here. I don’t know what, and I don’t know who’s behind it, but things are a little too sketchy here at Remy Hadley, and I find it very suspicious that you, the warden, even that bitch Jaime Pressly won’t talk to us. Why do you suppose that is?”

“We all hate pigs?” Grace said.

“Oh, that’s just nice. Insulting a Federal Officer while your transfer to your Hawaiian vacation hasn’t quite been approved yet.” Kristen leaned in and glared into Grace’s one open eye. “Best be careful, Grace, or I’ll have you stuck here in Remy Hadley for your connection to this prison break until the rest of your San Fran Eight girls are thrown back in here. I’m sure they’ll be so happy to know you stuck around to consult with us.”

“I think that’s about enough, Agent Bell,” Doctor Agyeman said, stepping forward. “The patient needs rest.”

“That’s okay, I’m done. For now,” Kristen muttered. “I wouldn’t bother stocking up on suntan oil just yet, Grace. You aren’t going anywhere until I say you can.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Did you get anything from the guard?” Tammin asked as the three agents headed to the helicopter.

“Johansson didn’t stay awake long,” Beverley replied, “but she was up long enough to confirm it was one of the San Fran 8 who took her out.”

“So now we got attempted murder on the pile? Which one?” asked Kristen.

“She conked out before she could say, but we know Shay Mitchell and Emma Roberts took two of the nightsticks, and Roberts was one of the group that fucked Johansson.”

“Emma Roberts doesn’t look like a killer,” Tammin mused.

“She killed Fontana Maxwell,” Beverley pointed out.

“Too bad Shahi and Stewart were asleep,” Tammin continued, nodding at what Beverley said. “I’d love to know how they just happened to turn up where the gang was.”

“With you on that one, BJ,” Kristen agreed as they got into the helicopter. “I think we might have to look into our friend the warden.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Their friend the warden was doing some looking of her own, at some reports. She still had more meetings about this… this clusterfuck to handle, but she still had the end of the day to look forward to when she could finally get some home time, and maybe have the rest of the weekend  to herself and her husband and kids. Just relaxing, taking her mind off the worst few days of her career and reflect that it was all out of her hands…

“Warden?” Maggie’s voice said from the intercom.

Kate shook her head. “Go ahead.”

“There’s a woman out here to see you.”

“Send her in,” the warden said resignedly. Might as well get this over with.

The door opened, and a woman who was not a member of any law enforcement agency or government body walked in. She had an impressive body of her own covered in pale creamy skin and topped with oceans of wavy red hair, and she had a twinkle in her eye that Kate would have welcomed – had it belonged to anyone but the current visitor.

“What are you DOING here?!” the warden managed to keep from shouting at Julianne Moore the second the door closed.

“Can’t I drop by and see an old friend?” the redhead smiled, leaning in. “Now come on, lighten up… it’s not a booty call anyway. It could’ve been; you know the arrangement.”

Kate *did* know the arrangement. Julianne could – and did – turn up for sex anytime she wanted, and Kate had no option but to go along with it; it was one of the little conditions Rhona Mitra had made, thanks to Julianne having done Kate a few favours. Like meeting Nigella Lawson the last time she was in San Francisco, for instance. Oh, and getting rid of the only person who knew how the other candidate to take over Remy Hadley had been dropped from contention (and off a bridge). Not that Kate minded sleeping with women, but she liked to pick the time and place; at least she wouldn’t have had to do it while her husband and kids were at home. Again.

“I just came by to drop off a message,” Julianne continued. “Wow, you’ve gotten some nice stuff in since last time – great carpet…”

“There are such things as phones, you know,” Kate said stiffly.

“I like the personal touch. And Rhona says this whole Remy Hadley thing can get really personal. For you, if this doesn’t end well,” Julianne added. “You could resign if they don’t get caught, and keep some shame – but that wouldn’t cover your homelife.”

“She wouldn’t.”

“Don’t come all daytime soap with me, Kate,” the visitor said. “You really want your guy to find out about what you get up to at work? Or about how Rhona’s friend Nigella gave us more than an autograph? I don’t think he’d be happy to hear about while he was looking at her tits you actually got to lick them…”

“Tell Rhona everything’ll be fine,” Kate said, going pale. “As soon as Scarlett Johansson is well enough to leave hospital, she’ll return to the prison.”

“Sending her straight back to work?”

“No, she’ll be a prisoner. I am not going to be going down for – NOT A WORD,” she snapped, seeing Julianne’s mouth about to open. “There is enough circumstantial evidence to point towards the lovely Miss Johansson having been talked into helping them out; I believe we have ourselves a scapegoat.”

“Too bad she wasn’t beaten by Blanchett hard enough.”

“You mean the prisoners,” Kate corrected her with a knowing smile.

“Oh yeah, of course I do,” Julianne lied, smiling back.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I’m sorry, she’s in a meeting,” Maggie told Jessica Alba.

The guard nodded. “Those are the breaks – it’ll keep…”

As Jessica left the warden’s office, she cursed herself. What she had to say could NOT keep; and now those Feds had left Remy Hadley. Jessica had tried to reach them, but she’d had to mediate in (yet) a(nother) fight between Mila Kunis and Selena Gomez, and by the time the two spitting brunettes had been separated the agents had gone.

But it was a couple of hours until she clocked out, and as soon as she was off the premises she was going to make a couple of calls. She hadn’t forgotten hearing Cate Blanchett almost beating Scarlett Johansson to death; what had subsequently happened in the tunnel may have been what she deserved, but that had been an accident.

If the other guards weren’t about to give Blanchett up, Jessica would.

* * * * * * * * * *

The following Saturday, a small car drove up to an apartment building situated just outside the south of San Francisco. It was early in the morning, but even if it had been high noon hardly anyone would have been panting to get into the five-story complex; it was shuttered and empty, and other than graffiti artists few gave the place the time of day.

The car pulled around to the back and came to a stop, and had any of the local artists been around to decorate the walls they would have seen two women climb out – the driver, a beautiful woman with chestnut hair in her early 30s; and the one going to unlock the back of the car, an equally good-looking brunette in her mid-20s.

“Relax, no one’s following us,” Troian Bellisario assured her friend, taking out some bags.

“I know….” JoAnna Garcia replied. “It’s just so… so weird.”

“Not the word I’d have chosen,” said Troian. “Just wish they’d found a place a little closer.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about Jason,” the redhead confided. “I always think I’ll slip up one day.”

“That reminds me, when’s the big day?”

“We’re thinking the summer.”

“I don’t suppose Shay Mitchell’ll be the maid of honour?”

JoAnna’s beautiful face went several shades of red at once as the two entered the building. If there was one thing about this whole affair she wished she could take back, it was what had happened when Troian had gotten her over here the first time – she hadn’t seen any of them since the trial, and she’d tried to avoid looking them in the eye back then. But when she’d come into the ground-floor apartment that the gang had taken over (their injuries meant going for higher levels wasn’t a wise move), they’d greeted her with open arms and no hard feelings; Shay had warmly hugged JoAnna on seeing her, and given her a kiss.

But not the kind friends gave; more like the kind Troian gave Hayden the moment they reunited. JoAnna had immediately kissed Shay as passionately, the way she usually only kissed Jason. And they’d all noticed it.

“Should we let you two have some alone time?” Emma had joked.

“Next time,” Shay had whispered quickly so only JoAnna could hear, and without thinking she’d nodded in agreement.

And she almost wished she hadn’t; one of the more harmless but still embarrassing side effects of the whole business had been some bastions of the media running with the “hot all-female gang of lesbians” angle. It wasn’t just journalists, either; to Jason’s credit, he had refused to have “The San Francisco Eight: A XXX Parody” in the house. But out of curiosity she’d looked up the information online, and was amused to see that the JoAnna in this scenario had had time to bang all the robbers plus the other hostages; she almost envied that Allison Moore her lack of inhibitions.

The movie had ended with a massive gang-bang in prison, but Vivid would have been disappointed to see that nothing of the sort was going on when JoAnna and Troian entered the hideout. The only things that was going on, in fact, were Roselyn Sanchez reading one of the magazines that had been brought over last time, Olivia Wilde and Megan Fox playing hearts, and scrambled eggs being made; the building itself had had no electricity, but Megan had managed to sort out enough of the wiring to get the place, or at least their apartment, back on the grid and spare them from showers and food of the cold variety.

“Hi, guys!” Blake Lively called from the kitchen area. “Right on time…”

“Since when does the princess cook?” Troian asked, lugging the supplies over.

“Since I was 7,” the blonde replied. “Guys love that.”

“Your mom taught you that?” asked JoAnna.

“My DAD taught me that – I was always daddy’s girl.”

“Colour me shocked,” Olivia muttered.

“Remy Hadley’s guards knew what they were doing,” Megan added to Troian. “Your girlfriend and the boss lady are the only others of us who don’t suck in the kitchen and, well…”

“How’s the penicillin holding out?” Troian asked.

“Not great,” Roselyn admitted.  “We’re about to run out – the arm’s getting a little more numb each day.”

At that moment, two or three loud sneezes burst through from elsewhere in the apartment.

“Guess we don’t have to ask about Emma…” JoAnna said, looking towards the closed door behind which lay Emma Roberts. Running around the Sierra Nevada mountains late at night in the rain completely naked was not the way to avoid risking a cold; even though she had dried herself off in the E-Van afterwards with help from some of their uniforms, a bug had still gotten into her system. The first sniffles and coughs had struck not long after arriving, and the following morning she’d developed a seriously bad cold that meant Emma spent all her time in here away from the others, except when they brought her food and medicine. But now she was getting worse, and the coughs were keeping them awake at night.

“Time to sort this out with baby girl,” Troian said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Baby girl, also known as Hayden Panettiere, was also still in bed and moving around slowly, savouring every little touch of Shay Mitchell’s tongue between her legs.

The small blonde was completely naked except for her right arm, which was wrapped in the bandages Troian had brought with her on their second visit. She was no Florence Nightingale but it did the job, though Hayden had to keep it out of action – and she really regretted it at times like this. She was good with her left hand, but she wasn’t a southpaw, and she wished she could be stroking Shay’s head with both hands instead of one.

Shay had both hands free, and she was using them to caress Hayden’s beautiful body from the thighs to the chest as her mouth tasted Miss Panettiere’s tight tiny box.  Her tongue was traversing Hayden’s plump little pussy lips and the heavenly delight between them like she was painting a masterpiece, taking her time and doing it right.

“Mmmm… don’t get this with Medicare…” Hayden moaned as she felt Shay’s fingers spreading onto her stomach, touching the piercing in her navel and moving on up to her breasts. Shay kept on licking inside the blonde, not letting up for a second as her fingers fondled Hayden’s rack (and unintentionally reminded her that she wanted to look into getting something extra up there – not that anyone she’d ever been with had complained, but… well…).  She could feel herself soaking Miss Mitchell’s mouth, and wanted to tell her not to stop as Shay moved back to kiss the insides of Hayden’s thighs before sliding up the blonde, her pussy tingling and begging for more; as if reading her mind, Shay slipped one of her hands between her lover’s legs.

“Like I’d leave that alone,” she smiled. “Or what’s on the other side.”

“You’re not so bad yourself back there,” Hayden sighed, patting Shay’s rump with her good hand as she focused on the woman’s breasts coming closer to her. Shay Mitchell’s body was long, dusky and so warm… if Emma Roberts hadn’t been sick as a dog Hayden would have laid money on the two of them sleeping in the same room every night. But Emma’s loss was Hayden’s gain; as soon as those excellent tits were within reach the blonde leaned forward and, smiling up at Shay en route, gave each breast a tender kiss, lightly suckling the nipples. Mmmmm, you’d think they would melt in the mouth because they were so sweet.

Shay gently took Hayden into her arms, holding her there as the blonde curled up against her chest and licked each mammary. “Emma’s so lucky,” she breathed, gazing up at her lover.

“Troian’s so lucky,” Shay replied, kissing the top of Hayden’s head.

“Could you do me a favour?” Hayden asked. “Since I’m not going to be going anywhere today…” She patted one of Shay’s arms. “That. I want it up me.”

“Which end?”

“Well… surprise me.” The tiny blonde disengaged herself and lay face down with her lower half pointing upwards, spreading her legs wide and giving Shay a clear view of both her holes.  It was a hard choice – that lovely, sweet little snatch open and waiting, or the small winking back door positioned above it.

“Wish I could do both,” Shay sighed.

“What’s stopping you?” asked Hayden, looking behind her and winking.

Shay covered her right hand with lotion, lathering it up to the elbow and making it as slippery as possible. Then, pausing to kiss Hayden’s ass on both cheeks, she put her knees on the floor and leaned forward with both hands clenched, the oiled one touching the blonde’s butt and the untouched one on her cunt. Shay’s knuckles were tickling each orifice as Hayden shivered in anticipation.

With her fists tightened as much as she could make them, Shay slowly started to turn the right one from side to side with the middle knuckle serving as the tip to core into Hayden’s asshole. The blonde’s little sighs began to rise as she felt each tiny turn, with every move opening her rear entrance a little more, stretching it like she was being fucked by a giant.

“Uhhhh…. oooh…. deeper…” Hayden gasped.

Shay moved her right fist further in and then slid it back a couple of millimetres before edging forward. She kept up the pace of a little further forward then a bit less back, watching as more and more of her hand went into the blonde’s back door – she was genuinely surprised that Hayden’s anal ring soon had all of Shay’s hand clasped in it, all the way up to the wrist. And now Hayden was slowly moving her ass around while Shay moved the fist, letting out sighs and groans as it now went in above the wrist.

“Both hands….” Hayden panted, feeling Shay’s left fist lingered over her open, dripping pussy. Until now it had been left unattended, mainly because Shay was hesitating – the girl was so tiny, and she was already getting over one injury. Never mind Troian never forgiving her if this wound up hurting Hayden, Shay didn’t feel she’d ever forgive HERSELF…

“Do I look… like a damn… virgin?” the blonde managed to get out in between sighs. “Just slip it in… I can take it…”

Shay’s long, slim other arm began its journey inside Hayden Panettiere’s pussy as delicately as its counterpart. This time it was Shay’s turn to sigh – Hayden’s body temperature was definitely higher inside there, and it was so fucking snug…  it was like sinking into silk. Her hand pushed in and out of the blonde, moving slowly but settling into a rhythm with the other fist; when the one that was up Hayden’s crotch moved back, the one inside her asshole went forward, and vice versa. Back and forth… back and forth… back and forth… she couldn’t decide which one felt nicer.

And neither could Hayden, holding the bedsheets tight as she gyrated back around Shay’s fists. It had hurt the first time it had happened, but her lover then had done it as gently as possible and she had begged for more the next time; not being able to walk was a small price to pay. With the forearms pushing their paths inside her, she was being virtually split open but what a way to go.

“OHHHH FUCCCCCKKKK YESSS!!!! YES SHAY!!! FUCK ME LIKE A FUCKING BEAST!!!” the blonde howled, quaking as Shay’s arms cored as deep and as fast as they could inside her. The area around her waist was on fire, and Hayden felt the perfect mix of pain and joy as she started to erupt inside – even her busted arm was forgotten in the bliss. “DON’T STOP!!! PUSH DAMMIT!!! DO IT HARDER!!!”

Shay didn’t want to go any faster, and she couldn’t have even if she wanted, but the juices flowing inside the blonde’s box were making it easier for her in there – as she pumped Hayden in each hole and felt her starting to give in more with each thrust, Hayden’s screams of delight almost distracted Shay from what happened next.

“YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Hayden yelled upwards, shoving her body back as the joy shot through her system, succumbing to Shay’s hands – right when Shay herself felt a hand patting her own asscheeks and a pair of lips kissing the valley in between, the tongue flicking lightly there before the mouth left, although the hand remained, stroking and squeezing the flesh.

Shay knew those fingers; as her forearms began their delicate journeys out of Hayden Panettiere’s not-so-private parts, the gorgeous lass looked back over her shoulder and smiled up at JoAnna Garcia as if she’d been walked in on while making some toast. The redhead beamed back, her non-Mitchell-ass-fondling-hand holding the cellphone she’d just used to snap a shot of Shay in action.

“That looks painful,” JoAnna said, watching Shay remove her hands from Hayden as the blonde sank onto the mattress with a contented sigh, her legs still spread.

“It is the first time,” Troian Bellisario agreed, before she headed over to the head of the bed to kiss her coming-down girlfriend. “But it’s amazing what the human body can take.”

“How about a couple more shots for little me, Butter?” JoAnna asked Shay as she got off her knees, before they kissed. “Just so I can remember when you’re out of the country.”

“How long were you two there?” Hayden asked Troian as her lover knelt down to kiss her.

“Long enough,” the brunette replied. “If we’d gotten here ten minutes sooner we might have joined in.”

“YOU might have joined in, you mean,” JoAnna corrected, as Shay posed for her ‘camera.’ “My guy thinks Hayden’s cute – or he thought she was until she got arrested – but I’m a one… woman… woman. Great shot…”

Shay hefted her rack for the cellphone as it clicked, before JoAnna got one of her nude from top to toe, and another from behind. “Want me to spread this for you?” she asked casually.

“After the way you were kneeling back there?” the redhead laughed. “I already got that.”

“After all the pictures you sent me of you, time I returned the favour anyway,” Shay told her. “You got me through a lot of nights back in Remy Hadley.”

“I’d have thought your cellmate-“ JoAnna started.

“Blake,” Shay and Hayden interrupted.

“Oh.”

“You know, just before you broke out I had a really weird sex dream,” Troian told Shay. “I was banging you, that schoolteacher you guys took, and Ashley Benson.”

“WHY?!?” asked Hayden.

“It felt kind of… right somehow,” Troian said. “I don’t know why.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Shay told her. “Hayden could be Ashley and stay out of it…”

“Thanks a lot,” the ex-reporter said wryly.

“JoAnna could be Lucy…”

“No chance,” the redhead replied. “But I’d like to watch…”

Even though JoAnna had loosened up considerably ever since Shay had awakened something in her – to Jason’s benefit – this still came as a surprise to them. Maybe she could be tempted to join in sometime, but still… Shay and Troian grinned at each other while Hayden gingerly turned herself over and offered her better hand to JoAnna.

“Want me to give you a little finger fun during the main event?” the blonde asked.

“I’ve got ten of my own, thank you very much,” JoAnna told her.

“Oh, please…” the invalid pouted, wriggling her better hand’s fingers. “Mine won’t recover from Shay for like HOURS and-“

“I’m good,” JoAnna interrupted. “But I’ll help you out… c’mon.”

Hayden did, in fact, need some help from JoAnna to get herself in better viewing position – Shay Mitchell and Troian Bellisario were on their knees on the floor, the latter having managed to undress in record time (how did she DO that?) and both fondling the other’s chests. Troian just had to lick her lips a little on feeling Shay’s rack, while Shay’s sloe eyes were going all over Troian’s body with particular interest in what was between her legs.

“Wow,” Troian said. “Your hands feel great.”

“Well, you saw where they just were…” Shay smiled.

“Yes, we did,” JoAnna whispered, sounding a little distasteful.

“Hey, if it was up *that* I wouldn’t moan,” Hayden laughed, pointing to JoAnna Garcia’s ass. “Shay tried it on you?”

“Not yet…  no. I mean no.”

Troian kissed Shay’s breasts, her tongue enjoying the con’s nipples as her fingers moved along Shay’s silken smooth skin. She had to admit there was a little thrill attached here; it was the first time she’d ever fucked a convicted felon… one that deserved to be locked up, anyway. But if it had been down to her, she’d have left them all in jail except baby girl. Even if Shay did have a wonderful way of fondling Troian’s head as it moved down onto Miss Mitchell’s stomach, the tongue dipping into her navel before Shay gently pushed the head down between her legs.

When Troian had started to research Remy Hadley’s layout, she had planned to get Hayden out and ONLY Hayden out, but she’d known from the beginning that she’d need some help. That was when she and JoAnna Garcia had gotten together; as the only other hostage she felt might be open to helping her, she figured it couldn’t hurt to approach the then-bank teller. Meeting at Troian’s place, JoAnna had agreed to be her co-conspirator… but she said they’d have to break Shay out as well, and that meant they’d all have to come out. (That was what had made Troian suspect the rumours about JoAnna growing to really, really like Shay Mitchell were more than just rumours, and a little gentle prodding had gotten the redhead to admit that they were true… she hadn’t told anyone before. Not even Lucy Hale, who had admitted she’d been drawn to Megan Fox but couldn’t wait – apparently in this case, JoAnna could.) It wasn’t something Troian had planned on, but that was the way it had to be.

Still, it wasn’t like any of them were a pain to be with or look at. Or taste – Troian had her mouth against Shay’s snatch, licking the slit and the button on it. She was a fast worker when she wanted to be, knowing which spots inside her sex target to dab for the best effect, although she’d have preferred to deal with Shay for hours. Damn the princess almost finishing breakfast; the smell coming from the kitchen wasn’t as nice as the one she was enjoying emanating from Shay Mitchell’s pussy, but it made for a promising second course. Troian munched on Shay eagerly, burrowing inside her and relishing how warm she was inside; pity Emma was too ill to enjoy this.

Shay had her eyes closed and her hands fondling her own breasts, showing she was certainly enjoying Troian’s lips; her moans were mixing with JoAnna’s, demonstrating to Hayden that she did have fingers of her own and knew how to use them. Five of them were inside the opened zipper of her jeans, the other half were getting a few shots of the ladies in action on her phone.

“Beats ‘Penthouse Variations’ all to hell, doesn’t it?” Hayden smiled, studying Troian’s body as she moved on the floor. “And all real.”

“C’mon, JoAnna…” Shay gasped. “You know you want to…”

“I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I might slip…”

“Huh?” asked Hayden, her eyes taking in Troian as she slid back up Shay’s body and wrapped her in an embrace, Troian’s pussy placed against Shay’s heated snatch as the dusky woman clutched her lover tightly. The two kissed fiercely, their hips grinding against each other as Shay pressed herself onto Troian, as if she wanted to share the orgasm she was about to have.

“That night we met to talk over getting you guys out… your girlfriend…” JoAnna hesitated.

“She came on to you?” asked Hayden gently.

“Yeah,” JoAnna replied quietly, even more quietly as the cries from Shay and Troian increased, their bodies shaking as they fondled and rubbed each other. “She said she was lonely without you – it didn’t get any further than a kiss before I shut it down.”

“I’m watching my girl fuck a woman I spent six months in prison with and not screaming my head off,” Hayden pointed out.  “Did you really think a kiss would hurt? We’re open – we fuck who we want but we only love each other.”

“I’m still kind of loyal,” JoAnna admitted.  “You’re all pretty goodlooking if you like that kind of thing…” A particularly loud scream from Shay interrupted them, as the woman bucked against Troian, letting her delight course through the two of them.

“…but Shay’s the only girl for me,” JoAnna finished.

“What about Jason?”

Hayden had brought up something JoAnna really didn’t want to think about. Jason thought that Shay had taken advantage of his fiancée and she’d let him think that, but it was getting harder and harder to keep Shay Mitchell’s beautiful face out of her mind whenever they had sex. Last week she’d succeeded, and Jason had told her afterwards that everybody had a bad night in the sack from time to time and not to let it bother her; but it did.

Especially since it was the first time she’d had unfulfilling sex with him since… since ever. JoAnna buried that in the back of her mind and put a smile back on her face.

“She went further than me,” Hayden admitted. “There’s only one member of the gang I’ve never slept with… can’t even make a pass at her. Enemy territory.”

Right on cue, the door opened enough for Blake Lively’s sunkissed head to poke through with a big smile, which dimmed only a bit on seeing what was happening.

“I was going to tell you to come, but…” Blake said, a little sheepishly.

* * * * * * * * * *

The apartment did not come with a table, so eight of them sat or stood around the front room putting back their toast, scrambled eggs and bacon – Emma usually ate by herself to keep from spreading her cold, but they had business to attend to meaning they all had to be together, so she was in the same room but not sitting or standing with the others.

“So how’d it go with the redheaded legfest?” Roselyn asked.

“Her name is Jessica, and don’t you have a girlfriend?” JoAnna asked in return, half wishing she’d never shown them what Jessica Chastain looked like. Or at least that she hadn’t shown them that particular picture of her friend showing off her legs in shorts.

“Any port in a storm, and there’s no harm in looking,” Megan pointed out.

“Not that most of us stick with just looking,” Emma chuckled.

“You get used to it,” Olivia assured JoAnna on seeing her facial expression.

“Eventually,” Blake added.

“Anyway, I talked to her when we were at our friend’s bachelorette party,” JoAnna continued. “Jessica’s got some vacation time coming and she’ll spend a couple of days of it here in San Fran.”

“Kind of a shame we can’t go down her way,” Megan said. “I love LA.”

“WE LOVE IT!” Hayden, Blake and Shay all sang as one, laughing.

“Quiet, children,” JoAnna said, smiling. “When she’s here it won’t be much of a problem getting her into the bank, because my computer dates back to like 2000 and keeps playing up. Jessica can work on my PC while I’m…”

And there was the blushing again. Jessica wasn’t going to be there officially, so the manager couldn’t know about it; and there was only one way JoAnna could be sure he wouldn’t interrupt.

Blake nodded in sympathy. “That could be a problem… you’re not a screamer, are you? That almost got me caught by my next door neighbour’s wife back when I was 16…”

“How about it?” Troian asked Shay, who was giggling at this. “Is she?”

“No, nosy – but he might be. And he’s not exactly my guy. Or Ryan Gosling… although he kind of looks like one,” JoAnna added, her face wrinkling. “At least I know I do it for him.”

“What about catching her at home?” Hayden continued.

“Well, we have two ways to go there,” Roselyn said. “They both involve my old job… one’s more direct but more dangerous; the other doesn’t call for so much face contact but it’s more tangled.”

“Define ‘tangled’,” Megan said through a mouthful of deceased pig.

“R.M. Housing has space in a building owned by a company called Radcliff Enterprises,” Roselyn explained. “I think if we can track down who owns it, we’ll see it leads back to Rhona.”

“Does this girl own all of the damn state?” Olivia muttered.

“Not yet.”

“So what’s behind door number two?” asked Emma from the corner.

“Now this is the one I don’t really want to do,” Roselyn replied hesitantly. “I’m thinking Monica Bellucci.”

Roselyn’s ex-partner had been extremely vocal in her disgust at what she’d been up to, swearing that if she could change the name of the company to Monica Bellucci Housing she would – and quite why she hadn’t when legally and logically she could have done so, no one knew (but Roselyn had her suspicions). Though it wasn’t like she’d actually shoot Roselyn Sanchez on sight, Monica would not hesitate to bring in the police the second she appeared in her line of vision… and from the expression on the face of Monica’s wife Ariana Grande when they’d attended the trial, it didn’t look as if she’d be any friendlier if Roselyn dropped by.

“So you don’t do it,” JoAnna told her. “Tell us what you want to get from her and let one of us go see her instead.”

“Like which one? She knows all of us,” Roselyn pointed out.

“I wasn’t part of it,” Olivia said.

“No, but you broke out with us. Monica has an excellent memory and I’m sure she’ll have seen the news,” Roselyn told her. “You show up there and—“

“Then it’ll be me,” Troian interrupted. “Maybe she’ll give me a break ‘cause I’m Italian and all.”

“HALF-Italian,” Hayden corrected, smiling.

“Whatever,” her girlfriend said, eyeing Hayden’s arm. “Look, I hate to change the subject like this… but we still need to get that looked at.”

Right on cue, Emma coughed several times in quick succession.

“And that. And those,” Blake added, indicating Roselyn’s arm and Olivia’s leg; the stitches Megan and Shay had put in (wincing all the while) were doing their job, but…

“I could get in touch with Navi,” Troian said hesitantly. “I think she’d—“

“NO.”

Hayden’s face had gone from cheerful to angry so quickly they weren’t sure they hadn’t shut their eyes for a few seconds. The blonde glared at Troian, her eyes set in disgust at what she’d just heard.

“There something we should know?” Megan asked.

“Oh yeah,” snapped Hayden. “Navi Rawat’s the EMT Troian was with before we met. They broke up around the time I joined Channel 7, and we ran into each other a little after that – the snotty cunt gave me the evil eye right there because she thought I’d jumped her claim…”

“C’mon, Hayden,” Troian pleaded. “You know she’s gotten over that by now.”

“She hasn’t gotten over YOU by now,” the small blonde pointed out. “Remember that time we were at Candlestick Park? Navi came by to say hi and the girl was creaming her panties over you. No way am I letting her anywhere near me – I’ll cut my arm off first…”

“That’s the only way it’ll get any worse, really,” Shay reflected. “But Emma there…”

“Hey, Emma’s actually in the room!” the safecracker snapped.

“There’s a place just outside the city I can take her too,” Megan interrupted. “Westside Medical’s not that far from here…”

“It’ll have to be later on, though,” Roselyn reflected. “The two of you go out in the daylight, more chance of being spotted.”

“Not a problem for them,” Olivia said bitterly, looking at Troian and JoAnna as they got up to leave.

“If it does get worse, I might have to look up Navi,” the brunette told them. “The others might need her even if Hayden doesn’t.”

“And I’ll stock up on breath mints,” JoAnna added. “My boss loves his garlic bread.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alice Englert also loved her garlic bread, particularly if it came with cheese, and so did Tamsin Egerton. Their older work colleague Salma Hayek was less keen because it made her stomach rumble like a volcano, so it had been more for the other two that early afternoon at Little Caesar’s (Alice actually preferred Pizza Hut, but you couldn’t argue with Tamsin’s staff discount).

“I don’t get it,” Salma laughed as her young friends finished their dessert and coffee and sat back with the kind of contented sighs that several other customers spotting Miss Hayek and her ample endowments were also giving. “How’d you manage to get all that stuff inside you and still not look like me?”

“Think we haven’t tried?” Alice replied, giggling. “Every night I ask the Boob Fairy for a little help – I guess my messages aren’t getting through. You think maybe I should go back to Australia and see if reception’s any better?”

“Send up a few for me while you’re there,” Tamsin added.

“Please, you’re both fine just the way you are,” Salma chided. “There’s more to being a woman than having large breasts.”

“So my guy keeps telling me,” Alice smiled as she took her Discover card out and put it on the tray for their waitress to process, transferring the smile to said wageslave. “Great as ever,” she added.

“Thanks,” replied the waitress as Alice went back to her friends.

“Some men can get picky though,” Tamsin continued. “Like the last boyfriend I had kept dropping hints I should get what I had enlarged… finally kicked the size queen to the kerb.”

“Good for you,” Salma beamed as the waitress returned to the table.

“Ah, thank you,” Alice said, reaching out for the tray she was carrying with her card.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the waitress told her. “Your card’s been declined.”

Alice’s smile vanished – she had been out on a date when that had happened, and she had not liked the feeling even when she wasn’t the one paying. And now here it was happening to her, but… “You what? But that’s impossible!”

“I’m afraid it’s true, ma’am. And I ran it through twice.”

“Do it again,” she said nervously.

“It’s all right, I’ll pay for it,” Salma assured her, opening her purse and taking out several bills. “I know how it feels for this to happen, so I always have some actual money with me. Just in case.”

“No, I’ll do it – discount, remember?” Tamsin said.

“You always do that,” the Latina chided. “I don’t mind picking up the cheque this time…”

While Tamsin and Salma had their friendly debate over who’d pay, Alice’s mind was on the card. She’d done some shopping yesterday but not that much, and she’d checked her amount online. She KNEW she had more than enough in there to last until payday- if she’d been eating with her brothers it would have been one thing, but the three of them hadn’t stuffed that much down their throats.

Alice Englert’s food turned to ashes inside her as she wondered where her money was. And who had it.

* * * * * * * * * *

It may have been the weekend, but Rhona Mitra had a busy day of nothing but meetings – there were people coming in from out of state who weren’t prepared to wait until Monday to discuss what was coming up, and Rhona wanted this settled badly enough that she was willing to sacrifice a Saturday morning with Rosie. Still, she had ways of relaxing before meetings.

Like having a meeting.

There were some things Rhona did not do; one of them was clean rooms. Another one was make appointments with women off the street – as good-looking as some of them could be, there was always a risk. She could afford to take care of just about any health problem; it was keeping the ladies quiet about who they’d been with that was the real danger – Rhona could pay them off not to talk, but she couldn’t guarantee someone wouldn’t pay them off to open their mouths. So she always made sure that the women she had her special meetings with either had something they wanted to keep quiet about, or wanted something she could give them.

Una Healy and Megan Hilty fell into the latter category, which she had to admit made a change – it was nice to have two relatively innocent and completely naked women at her disposal. The aspiring Irish singer’s sparkling eyes widened as she lay on Rhona’s plush flooring, feeling Megan Hilty’s tongue going where until now only her husband’s had been. Said husband had had his little problem cleared up – he was a good man but he liked the horses a little too much, $75 000-level too much – and Megan’s loser of an ex was currently doing a job Rhona needed doing, so now it was payback. And this was the ideal kind, with no paper trail.

“A deal is a deal,” Rhona said casually, stroking Una’s hair and eyeing her body. She was a lovely thing – slim with wavy red hair and perky chest cushions. “Are you sure this is the first time you’ve been with another woman?”

“It… is…” Una moaned, writhing as Megan slowly licked inside her before starting to move up. Unlike Una, this wasn’t the buxom blonde’s first time with a woman at all.

“I hear you’re in a band,” Megan said as she kissed Una’s stomach. “Any good?”

“We like to… think so,” the redhead sighed as Rhona sidled behind her and kissed her shoulders.

“Are the other girls as cute as you?” Megan asked, giving Una a good view of her breasts, which the lass started to fondle. Nice and heavy; Una liked the man meat, but she was enjoying the way Megan’s rack felt almost as much as she suspected Rhona was enjoying stroking her ass.

“They’re cuter,” Una replied, as Megan began to stroke her chest in return, a lazy smile playing across her face.

“Feels like satin,” Rhona whispered into Una’s ear approvingly. “You must make your husband very happy.”

“These feel pretty good,” Megan added, pressing her breasts onto Una’s before she came in closer to the woman. The two kissed, Miss Healy finding it easy to slip her tongue into Megan’s mouth and clutch the back of her head to bring it closer to her. Una’s other arm encircled the blonde’s thick, warm form, as she felt a pair of lips kissing the inside of her left thigh – Rhona had made her way down below.

Una’s hands cupped Megan’s cheeks, the fingertips slipping into the crack between them, as Rhona’s tongue slid between her own. Una couldn’t keep from squirming a little – it was the first time she’d ever had anyone do that to her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Not like Megan’s work on her pussy a few moments ago… now that she could use more of. She kissed the blonde again, wondering what she’d done to get herself into this situation.

Megan had one of her hands between Una’s legs, the fingertips starting to go inside. Una was bald below, and that was how Megan liked it – she did not like picking hairs out of her fingernails (or her teeth, thank you Debra Messing).  Licking Una’s nipples and loving how they were all standing up under her tongue, the blonde started to tease her snatch – her fingertips, plus Rhona’s tongue excavating further up her, were driving her to places her husband had never really managed to take her before.

The more Rhona munched her ass, the more she was starting to like it; though not as much as she felt she was going to like pressing her face between Megan’s boobs. The redhead squeezed the blonde’s melons as Megan’s mouth kept tasting, her fingers slipping inside her tight, increasingly wet  box. Ooooh yes, that was the stuff… Una was wanting to have a go at Megan’s own pussy, but she had a problem – she didn’t want to quit this girl’s upper half just yet.

“Megan…” she moaned. Getting the message immediately, the blonde pulled her face back and immediately thrust Una’s own face between her rack. The redhead rubbed her face on Megan’s flesh, loving the huge mounds she was between; she greedily began to suck on each of the blonde’s nipples, both so swollen and hard with so much meat around them Una almost took it from suckling into the realm of swallowing cocks.

“Hungry? I get that a lot,” Megan laughed, cradling Una with one arm while the other kept the pace between her friend’s legs, never letting her fingers rest for a second, bringing the girl closer to joy than she’d been for a long, long time. Until now Una had always thought those stories in magazines where a straight woman got turned had been just that – stories – but now here she was, being seduced by two hot older women (not much older in Megan’s case, admittedly), with Rhona licking Una’s legs and murmuring about how sexy said pins were… and Una not minding in the slightest where Rhona’s tongue had been a few moments back.

Grabbing as much of Megan as she could feel, Una almost started to claw some skin off as she screamed into the blonde’s cleavage, spurred along by Rhona’s lips moving up her legs. More and more she was looking forward to what happened when they got to her cunt – and maybe she could make one of these two women her first muff…

Una felt the last thing she wanted to feel – Rhona’s lips moving away from her, as Megan gently lifted her face away.

“I’ve done this before,” the buxom blonde explained. “I always know when time’s up.”

“Please don’t stop…” Una begged. “We just started.”

“I’m just as sorry as you are, but duty calls,” Rhona told her. “You cannot be seen here when the others arrive – my driver will take the two of you wherever you want to go.”

“But…” Una started, drinking in Rhona’s body and finding herself seriously wanting it.

“Fine, I’ll handle Miss Irish Spring on the journey down,” Megan interrupted.

“If it’s any consolation, Miss Healy, your side of the arrangement has already been completed. As for you, Miss Hilty…”

“My guy’s delivering the package tomorrow,” the blonde assured her.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Rhona replied, with a thin smile.

“Is there any chance he can take his time?” Una asked. “I’ve never gone down on a girl before.”

“If he drives slowly you’ll get to do more than go down on me,” Megan winked, and got up to get dressed.

Watching Megan’s meaty buttcheeks undulating away while she herself got up, Una mentally compared them to her husband’s. And found hubby’s wanting in comparison.

* * * * * * * * * *

“It’s all done,” Kat Dennings said in a low voice, handing Jessica the reports on the office’s last few cases. “Sorry about last time.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Jessica replied warmly, giving the recruit an encouraging smile.

Kat half-heartedly smiled back. “Agent Sursok is still trying to find out if anyone’s seen the escapees near some kind of transport. No luck yet.”

“We’ll find them, Kat. Oh, and…”

“Yes?” the brunette asked, nervously.

“Are you doing anything next weekend?”

Kat gulped, and her eyes darted to the floor. “Um… I’m flattered, but agents aren’t allowed to –“

“It’s not me,” Jessica assured her. “And it’s not in the FBI – I have a friend who’s been a little lonely for some time. I think the two of you might get along.”

The newcomer’s eyes rose back up to her boss. “It’s been a while… is she cute?”

“Very. You’ll like her,” said Director Biel. “Come back before you clock off and I’ll fill you in.”

Kat nodded, her long dress sweeping the floor as she left the office; Jessica’s smile became halved itself as she watched her leave. From the few times Kat had worn something that wasn’t 100% tent-esque she could tell that Miss Dennings had something special underneath her clothes – but she just kept on hiding her looks. All right, it wasn’t that important to her job and she was good at it… but if there was one thing Director Biel agreed with Agent Bell on, it was the old adage “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” And judging from the ample curves pushing out the top of her blouse, Kat had it. At least she wasn’t wearing a huge hat. Today.

Taking the coffee offered by the new intern, Beverley Mitchell’s eyes narrowed when Kat passed her desk. The intern’s eyes, meanwhile, just widened.

“I bet she’s got a killer butt under there,” he whispered to Beverley.

“So I’ve heard,” she replied. “Keep it in your pants, loverboy – you’re on duty.”

Beverley had heard it from Kristen; it had been lust at first sight for the agent (but not for Sursok – Beverley gave BJ *that* much). But while she’d had a few friendly words with Kat, nothing had panned out so far… and as far as Beverley was concerned it could stay that way. Even if she liked competition – and she didn’t, not by a long way – Kat Dennings’ endless “Oh woe is me, nobody thinks I’m hot, I never get any” whining during coffee breaks wasn’t helping her case. Beverley wanted to snap “For crying out loud woman, start dressing for men every once in a while.” (Actually, Kat didn’t whine that much – it just felt that way.)

Kristen and Kat passed each other en route to their respective destinations, and Kat blushed at the wink Kristen gave her.

“Love girls in glasses,” she whispered.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I hate IVs,” Emma Roberts muttered, even as she made eyes at the sexy brunette nurse attaching the line to her arm. “I always think they’re going to take stuff out, not put stuff in.”

“You won’t even feel a thing,” Nurse Caroline Dhavernas promised.

“If I do, will you make it up to me with a sponge bath?” Emma asked.

Caroline frowned. “Most patients don’t enjoy sponge baths.”

“Oh, I’d be the one giving it,” Emma said with a wink.

Megan Fox rolled her eyes; seemed like Emma was already feeling better. Hopefully, they’d be able to get out of Westside Medical Clinic before anyone recognized them – though how that’d be possible, she didn’t know. They’d had to wait outside the emergency room for almost two agonizing hours, where Megan’s fears of being arrested and Emma dying traded places repeatedly depending on how bad the younger girl was coughing. It was a busy night, with several broken bones, a car crash, and most troublesome, a gunshot wound. Seemed to be accidentally self-inflicted, from the little bit Megan had overheard, but she’d been in enough hospitals over the years to know that the cops came to investigate every gunshot reported. So far, the cops seemed to be as slow as the ER doctors, which was about all she and Emma had going for them.

More and more, Megan was beginning to think they should’ve waited for Troian’s ex girlfriend to come and look at Emma.

“Emma… Watson?” a new voice spoke up from behind the curtains. All three women in the small room turned to see a lovely, redheaded doctor standing in the doorway. Megan felt her pussy clench automatically upon seeing her.

“Yes, hi,” Emma said, remembering the fake name she’d given upon being admitted. Troian and JoAnna had been able to get everyone some fake IDs, but they hadn’t been the most creative of names. Megan was posing as Megan Park, Shay was Shay Jordan, and Hayden was now going by the last name Christensen.

“Miss Watson, I’m Dr. Rachel Nichols. I’m afraid you’ve got pneumonia, along with several cuts and bruises.”

“Camping trip gone bad,” Emma said. She was about to add more, but got caught up in a coughing fit.

Rachel turned towards Megan. “Camping trip?”

“Yeah, she thought it would be romantic,” the brunette said, improvising.

“I see,” Rachel said, seemingly deflating a bit as Megan spoke. “So you two are-”

“Oh, no!” Megan said. “No, I’m just her friend. Her lesbian friend. Who’s single.”

“Ah,” Rachel said, smiling a bit brighter at that. “Well, your friend is getting a nice cocktail of drugs that should kick the pneumonia out of her in a day or two. Nurse Dhavernas will tend to her other wounds. But I think she should be safe to go home by this evening. Plenty of bed rest, fluids, and no more camping for a while, I think.”

“Got it,” Megan said. “Thank you so much, Doctor.”

“Oh, not a problem,” Rachel said.

“Would you, ah, would you like to get a cup of coffee?” Megan asked before Rachel could slip out of the room.

Rachel seemed to consider it for a moment. “Sure. Sure, why not? Give me half an hour to finish my rounds, and so long as no new traumas come in, I’ll take you up to the Doctor’s dining area, where the coffee is actually drinkable.”

“Sounds good,” Megan said, admiring Rachel’s ass in her scrubs as she walked off.

“*Cough*slut*COUGH*” Emma managed to get out.

Megan winked at her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rachel Nichols hadn’t always wanted to be a doctor. In fact, growing up, she’d figured she’d go into the family business of being a cop. But when she’d taken a First Aid class in summer camp one year, she’d gotten hooked, and her life changed. But she still held law enforcement near and dear to her heart.

It didn’t hurt that she was dating a cop, too.

Emma Watson – such a fake name – was the last patient on her rounds for the evening, and had she really wanted to, Rachel could’ve taken that Megan Park girl – that name was probably fake, too – upstairs for all the coffee she wanted, but Rachel needed to make a phone call first.

“Patrick?” she said into her phone.

“Hey babe. Thanks for letting me fuck your ass last night.”

“Patrick, this isn’t a sex call,” Rachel said, cutting her boyfriend off before he could get going.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but I think I’ve got two of those SF8 girls you guys are looking for here at the clinic.”

Suddenly, Officer Patrick O’Kelley was all business. “What have you got?”

“Two women, one with pneumonia and several scrapes and bruises, all easily a week or so old. The other with a few bruises of her own, but more importantly, she’s got several tattoos like the ones on the APB you have at home. They‘re using really bad fake names, and aside from hitting on me and every nurse here, they look like they‘re in a hurry to get out.”

“Okay Rachel, this sounds promising. I need you to keep them there. I’m on my way over, but I gotta call this in to the FBI and let them take the lead. Whatever you have to do, keep them in that clinic.”

“I-I’ll try,” Rachel said. “Just hurry, Patrick.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“WE GOT SOMETHING!”

Kristen Bell shook her head, coming out of a daydream where she was motorboating Kat Dennings’ incredible tits, and turned to see Tammin racing in from the communications room.

“What is it?” Jessica Biel said, coming out of her office.

“Police just got a call from the Westside Medical Clinic claiming that they’ve got two very good matches on SF8ers. Sounds like Emma Roberts and Megan Fox!”

“Bell! Take BJ and Beverley and get there NOW,” Jessica said; Kristen was already grabbing her jacket. “I’ll have SFPD cordon off the place, but keep a low profile. We don’t want to spook them.”

“It could take us the better part of an hour to get there this time of day,” Kristen reminded her. “Unless you want to give us the helicopter.”

“There’s no helipad at Westside,” Tammin said. “I checked.”

“Then hurry,” Jessica said. “This is the first break we’ve had since they escaped, and we’re NOT going to fuck it up.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The more Rachel Nichols spoke with the ersatz Megan Park, the more she liked her. In another life, she suspected they could be friends. Though lovers was certainly out of the question. Rachel had never had sex with a woman, even when her college roommate Carrie had tried to seduce her six times. Rachel really preferred men.

Not that she’d tell Megan that. Keeping this little coffee date going was the only way to keep the escaped prisoner in the clinic.

“… so there I am, in just my bra, no panties, and the whole crowd is just staring at me in silent awe, not knowing I’d been having sex with the lead dancer every time she’d gone off-stage. If that curtain hadn’t fallen, I would’ve gotten away with it, too,” Megan was saying.

“So what’d you do?”

“The only thing I could do – I stood up on my toes as best I could, and pirouetted off the stage. Never saw Natalie again – she thinks I ruined her career. But all the papers were claiming it was the most unique and sexiest version of ‘Swan Lake’ ever.”

Rachel laughed along with Megan, who was rubbing her foot up and down the doctor’s leg under the table.

“Sounds like you’ve been with a lot of women,” Rachel said, trying to deflect the advances of the charming thief and prisoner.

“And men,” Megan admitted. “I’m a firm believer in finding pleasure wherever you can.” As she spoke, Megan’s foot ran all the way up and pressed against Rachel’s crotch – which, surprisingly, was growing a bit wet.

“Oh, wow,” was all the doctor could mutter.

“We’ve been chatting for a while now, Doc. Don’t you want to get me to an exam room?” Megan asked, pressing her toes – where did her shoe go, Rachel wondered – right up against Rachel’s erect little clit.

“All of our exam rooms are full,” Rachel stammered, trying hard to ignore the pleasurable sensations radiating out from beneath the table. She wasn’t lying. Westside Medical was crowded today.

“A supply closet then?” Megan asked.

“You’ve been watching too much trashy TV,” Rachel said, never-the-less thinking about the closest supply closet just down the hall. What was wrong with her?

“No, I just want to get trashy with you,” Megan said, boldly leaning across the table and kissing Rachel, not giving a care that everyone else in the Doctor’s cafeteria could see them.

The kiss blew Rachel away. She’d never once been kissed like that in her life. Hard and demanding, but soft and seductive at the same time. She’d only ever kissed a girl once – her roommate Carrie, trying to get her off Rachel’s back. Literally. But this kiss with Megan was something more. Something intoxicating.

There was still no sign of the cops, or the FBI, or anyone at all. Not even the security guard, who was probably watching “Hart of Dixie” on his iPod downstairs again.

Well, Patrick had said to do whatever it took to keep the fugitives in the clinic. This was certainly one way.

“Down the hall, fifth door on the right. It’s labeled supply. Give me two minutes to go there first and unlock it,” Rachel said.

“That’ll give me just enough time to finish my coffee,” Megan smiled at her seductively.

* * * * * * * * * *

“We should be there by now,” Kristen Bell grumbled. “Are we sure this is the fastest route?”

Tammin Sursok shrugged. “We’re following Beverley,” she said, nodding towards the van in front of them. “She’s got the directions on her phone.”

“She’s probably chatting on it instead of following it’s directions,” Kristen muttered, reaching for the tactical radio built into the dashboard. “Beverley?”

“Yeah boss?” Beverley’s voice came back after a moment.

“Are you sure this is the fastest route there?”

“It isn’t. There’s construction on Meadowbrook.”

“Fuck,” Kristen swore. “Okay, just hurry!”

Ahead of them, Beverley sped up.

* * * * * * * * * *

The scrubs issued to the doctors and nurses of Westside Medical Center were far too easy to take off, Rachel mused as Megan ran her tongue down the doctor’s collar bone towards her bra-covered tits. She still couldn’t believe she was doing this.

She also couldn’t believe she WANTED to do this.

Megan hadn’t said a word since Rachel had let her in the supply closet – merely started kissing and stripping the doctor. Now, with her pants around her ankles and her nipples ready to shred through her bra, Rachel was beginning to rethink her whole stance on lesbianism. Every kiss, every lick, every touch Megan gave her crumbled more of Rachel’s defenses.

Suddenly, Megan’s hands were in the waistband of Rachel’s boy short panties, yanking them down and exposing the lovely redhead’s shaved pussy to the cool air. Rachel shivered, then gasped as Megan dropped to her knees and immediately began eating her out.

Having been almost militantly straight her entire life, Rachel Nichols didn’t have a lot of experience with people going down on her. Most of her boyfriends had done it once or twice, but none of them had ever acted like they enjoyed it, and she hadn’t really enjoyed their efforts anyway. They were all much better just shoving their cocks into her and pounding away. But Megan – oh, Megan could do things with her tongue that made the best fucking Rachel had ever had in her life feel like barely a tickle.

It was like being a virgin again, so much like being touched for the first time. Rachel was feeling levels of erotic bliss she’d never felt before, never imagined she could feel before. She was regretting ever turning down her old college roommate’s advances. As Megan feasted on her pussy juice, Rachel Nichols was having a revelation. She WAS a lesbian. And she would never, ever had sex with a man again.

It took all of three minutes of oral sex from Megan Fox to get Rachel Nichols to climax, and when she did, the doctor fell back against the shelves in the supply closet, nearly knocking over the KY Jelly they used for OGYN exams. She hung there, arms spread wide for support, her scrubs top unbuttoned exposing her simple cotton-bra, her pants and boy shorts around her ankles, her pussy gushing into Megan’s mouth as the criminal continued to feast upon her. An orgasm more powerful than any she’d ever had before turned Rachel’s mind to jelly, and she stood there quaking for several long moments, trying to recover herself.

“Okay, wow, you enjoyed that,” Megan said, laughing a bit when Rachel came around.

“You-you have to run,” the doctor panted.

“Huh?”

“The cops know you’re here. They told me to keep you busy. I’m sorry-”

Megan was out the door before Rachel could finish.

By the end of the week, Rachel Nichols would dump her cop boyfriend, and end up sleeping with one of the nurses at Westside Medical. She’d come out, openly, and would live the rest of her life as a proud lesbian, dating several women before marrying Caroline Dhavernas almost five years later. Her life forever changed, Rachel would never know Megan’s real name, never know for sure if she was one of the San Francisco Seven or Eight or however many there were, would never know if she lived or died. But that one little coffee date and getting eaten out in a supply closet, trashy TV-like, would lead the doctor to happiness she never could’ve imagined.

Too bad the same wasn’t true for Megan Fox.

* * * * * * * * * *

The two FBI vans came to screeching halts, and Kristen Bell was the first one out, running towards a parked SFPD squad car.

“Agent Bell?” a plainclothes officer said as she approached.

“That’s me.”

“Detective Banes, my partner, Detective Drew,” he said, motioning towards a young woman standing beside him. “We’re still trying to get the place cordoned off, but we’re short-handed at the minute. Got a pileup several blocks east of here that’s slowing down backup.”

“We can’t wait much longer,” Bell said as Sursok and Mitchell approached. “We may have to go in and grab them.”

“According to hospital security, they don’t appear armed, and they are both being watched. A nurse is with the one receiving medical attention, and a doctor is with the other one, having coffee.”

“What, like on a date?” Tammin said.

“Don’t worry, she’s dating one of my officers,” Banes replied.

“You don’t know these girls, Detective. They’ve seduced much tougher targets,” Kristen muttered. “How many plainclothes do you have here?”

“Maybe six,” Banes offered. “But I’ve got twice that many uniforms that I can call in. If we surround the building-”

“These women are killers and desperate, Detective. No, we need to keep this quiet. Banes, you’re with me. BJ, take Drew. Beverley, grab another plainclothes. We’ll slip in and try and grab them. Be careful. Just because they appear unarmed doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous.”

“Right,” Banes said, waving over some of the other cops.

“Let’s go get us some fugitives,” Tammin said.

“I just hope they don’t escape,” Beverley added.

* * * * * * * * * *

Megan Fox’s instincts were telling her to run; get out of Westside Medical Center and just run for it. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave Emma behind, even though the girl was tied to an IV bag and still in need of medical attention. Back before the SFUB heist, Megan wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving any of the girls behind. But their time together in Remy Hadley had connected her to the gang more than she realized. And Megan Fox wasn’t going to leave a fellow San Fran Eight girl behind.

As she wove through the halls of Westside Medical, she grabbed a scalpel sitting on an exam table and hurried towards Emma’s room, half expecting to see cops screaming around the corner at any minute. She was beginning to wish she’d had a gun with her, not that she ever would’ve gotten into the clinic with one.

Slipping down a stairwell, she returned to the floor where Emma’s room was, slipped past the nursing station, and slid into the exam room where Emma was staying.

If it was anyone else staying there, Megan might have been surprised by what she saw. But when she came face to face with Emma Roberts and nurse Caroline Dhavernas both buck naked, engaging in a 69 on Emma’s bed while the often-nude criminal was still attached to her IV, well it wasn’t surprising at all.

“We gotta go,” Megan said, closing the door behind her.

“OHMYGOD,” Caroline said, jumping off Emma and trying – and failing – to cover her nakedness with her hands.

“Admit it,” Emma said, sitting up. “I’ve got good taste.”

“You do. Now get dressed.”

“You can’t leave,” Caroline said. “You still need treatment. We need to replace your IV bag any minute now, and-”

“And it’ll have to wait,” Megan said, pulling out the scalpel. “We’re leaving. Now get that line out of my friend’s arm, or you’re going to be the next one in this room needing medical treatment.”

Sensing the truth in Megan’s voice, Caroline moved quickly to undo Emma’s IV.

“Please tell me you have clothes here somewhere,” Megan said, glancing around the room.

“I got the exam gown they gave me,” Emma said, pointing towards the pink pile of fabric on the floor.

“Well, I guess it’s slightly less obvious than you running around naked,” Megan sighed.

“I do my best work naked,” Emma reminded her.

“Yeah you do,” Caroline agreed.

“Just put it on,” Megan said. “Cops are coming, and we’re leaving.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Westside Medical had three floors, and wasn’t THAT big of a clinic. Kristen assigned Beverley and her partner to the first floor, gave Tammin the third floor, which was mostly surgery rooms, and took the second floor herself, which was where the doctor Nichols was supposed to be watching the girl they believed to be Megan Fox. With Detective Banes hot on her heels, Kristen raced past the nurses station, onto the elevator, and right up stairs, just missing Megan slipping into the first-floor exam room with Emma in it.

They found Rachel Nichols still recovering – and still naked – in the supply closet a few minutes later.

“What happened? Did she rape you?” Kristen asked, looking at the clearly sexually aroused doctor.

“No, no. I was, uh, just trying to keep her here. She figured it out, though,” Rachel said, blushing a little.

“What room are you keeping her friend in?”

“6A downstairs,” Rachel said. “Or was it 6B?”

Kristen raced off, Banes following, the naked doctor left forgotten behind.

* * * * * * * * * *

In 6B, Megan and a now covered Emma were just finishing strapping the still-naked Caroline to the very exam table she and Emma had been fucking on. Emma took plenty of opportunities to grope the nurse before she and Megan peeked outside.

“Shit, look there,” Megan said, pointing across the nursing station to the other side exam rooms. Sure enough, there was Beverley Mitchell and a guy with such a severe buzz-cut that he HAD to be a cop, coming out of one exam room and slipping into another, clearly searching them.

“What now?” Emma asked. “Sneak out a window?”

“All the windows are locked and have bars,” Caroline offered.

“Don’t make me gag you,” Megan warned her.

“Better not; if you gag her, I’m going to HAVE to do naughty stuff to her,” Emma said, winking back at the nurse, who quivered on the bed.

“Shut up and think of a way out,” Megan said quietly, closing the door.

“Air vents?”

“You might be small enough to slip through them, but I’m not,” Megan said.

“You’re not THAT big,” Emma said. “Your tits are, but you-”

“Emma, I promise, you get us out of here, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to my tits, but can we PLEASE get out of here first?” Megan pleaded.

“Take off your clothes,” Emma said.

“I said AFTER we got out!” Megan said, exasperated.

“No, get out of your clothes, and put HERS on,” Emma continued, pointing to the discarded nurses outfit Caroline had been wearing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kristen met Beverley Mitchell right outside room 6A, which the junior FBI agent and her SFPD partner were about to check out.

“Fox is gone,” Kristen said. “According to the doctor, it’s either this room, or the one across the hall that Roberts is in.”

“Okay, you take the lead. I’ll stay back and keep an eye out for Fox,” Beverley suggested.

“Make sure no one leaves that room across the way,” Bell said firmly. She then drew her service sidearm, and slid into the exam room, Banes and the other SFPD man right behind her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“This uniform barely fits,” Megan complained, motioning towards her chest, where her sizeable breasts were threatening to pop the button keeping them covered.

“Looks good to me,” Emma said. They’d had to stuff Megan’s bra and panties into Caroline’s mouth to keep the nurse from screaming for help, so both fugitives were now going completely commando. But if it got them out of the medical center without being arrested, well then spending some time without underwear on was worth it.

Emma was now sitting in a wheelchair, a mobile IV pole attached to it. If they’d had more time, Megan would’ve had Caroline actually attach the medicine Emma needed and kept her friend healing, but that would’ve meant untying and then retying the nurse, and they didn’t have that kind of time to waste. Instead, the unplugged IV line was merely taped to Emma’s arm, which hopefully looked good enough to pass casual inspection.

Megan slid up to the door, and peeked out, just in time to see Kristen Bell lead two obvious cops into 6A.

“Now or never,” she said, grabbing Emma’s wheelchair and pushing her friend out. “This better work.”

“It will,” Emma said as Megan backed out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Beverley Mitchell saw a nurse in a too-small uniform pull a patient with an IV drip back out of 6A, and knew immediately it was Megan Fox and Emma Roberts. The flimsy disguises they were using wouldn’t get them past the front door, let alone past a trained FBI agent.

Which meant if they were going to get where they needed to go, she’d have to help them out. Without being caught by Kristen Bell or Tammin Sursok.

“Some days, I hate my job,” Beverley muttered aloud. Then she raised her voice just enough to be heard across the hallway.

“Better put someone on the front door. They don’t have time to slip out the back,” she said to no one in particular. No one even so much as glanced in her direction, but the nurse/fugitive turned the wheelchair around and made a B-line for the back of the clinic.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was working! Holy crap, Megan Fox thought, it was working.

“Emma, I’m totally going to let you do every dirty little thing you ever wanted to do to me,” Megan whispered as she pushed the wheelchair out the back door, which was completely unguarded.

“Mmmm, do you have a double-sided dildo and a bottle of honey handy?” Emma asked, before coughing again.

“I’ll get them,” Megan promised. Oh, the sexy little thief had earned so hot, hot sex for this. Plus, Megan was still a little turned on from going down on that sexy doctor and not getting any in return. She hadn’t even managed to get undressed! Talk about blue balls! Well, she was certain Emma would make it up to her as soon as she was feeling better. And who knew, maybe one of the other girls back at the hideout was feeling frisky. Megan could-

She didn’t get to finish her thought before a rag filled with chloroform was pressed over her mouth. She tried to struggle, but it was too late – she’d breathed in too much, and the sweet-smelling vapors were knocking her out. She could see someone doing the same thing to Emma, and the last thought she had before she passed out was that whoever this was, it wasn’t the cops.

* * * * * * * * * *

The tied up, gagged, and very naked nurse Caroline Dhavernas aside, 6B was as empty as 6A. Kristen was furious, and the uniformed officers outside were all called in. Every room, every cabinet, every crevice of Westside Medical Clinic was searched twice. But it was evident that the two Remy Hadley fugitives had slipped away. All they had to go on were the two naked employees – Caroline and Rachel – who’d been seduced and abandoned, neither of them knowing anything about where the two SF8ers were going.

“You’re certain no one came out of 6B?” Kristen snapped at Beverley.

“Positive. They must have snuck out before we got there,” she lied.

“God damn it!” Kristen swore. “All right, Banes, the FBI thanks you and your SFPD buddies for their help. Hopefully, we can get SOMETHING from the security cameras.”

“If they snuck out the back, you aren’t – someone disabled those cameras earlier,” Banes muttered, just as unhappy as Kristen was.

“You’re saying they had help?”

“Looks that way,” Banes said, before taking Drew and heading out the door.

“It must have been the rest of the gang,” Beverley said. She knew it wasn’t – it had been Rhona’s men, waiting there since Beverley called them from the van on the too-long trip from the FBI offices.

“I don’t get it,” Tammin said. “After the SFUB heist, they all went their separate ways. Now they’re all working together again, and just to get one of them some incomplete medical treatment?”

“There’s definitely more going on here than we know,” Kristen said. “Come on, let’s go back and see if the boss has anything for us.”

As Tammin and Kristen headed out the door, Beverley couldn’t help but smile. The FBI might have dropped the ball, but Rhona Mitra was going to be incredibly pleased with Beverley Mitchell’s performance today.

* * * * * * * * *

“I can’t believe you watch this shit. On purpose,” Roselyn grumbled, shaking her head.

None of the team, before this whole thing had started, would have been caught dead at home on a Saturday night – but that was then, and this was now, and they were mostly gathered close around the TV JoAnna had brought for them. Not because the Spanish-language movie on LATV was so scintillating, but because it wasn’t a very big set.

“Do any of you even SPEAK Spanish?!” the leader continued.

“I’m just here for the eye candy,” Shay admitted.

“Relax, we’ll switch over in time for ‘NCIS’,” Olivia added with an eye on the quarrelling Latina women onscreen. Shame it didn’t involve wrestling, but any port in a storm.

“Or the local news,” Roselyn reminded them.

She didn’t need to remind them – with each passing hour and no sign of “Megan Park” and “Emma Watson,” the possible conclusions the gang were coming to both seemed more and more likely. No matter how busy the clinic got it couldn’t have been so busy that they’d still be there by now, unless some kind of disaster had taken place all of a sudden.  Some kind of incredibly localized disaster that no station had interrupted broadcasting to mention.

“You know, if they got caught-“ Blake started.

“If they got caught, they won’t talk,” Roselyn interrupted.

“That too, but if they got caught going to the doc’s then…” Blake trailed off, looking nervously at Hayden.

“You do what you have to do,” the small blonde told them flatly. “I’m the only one who’s got the problem.”

“Fine, but I’ll always have your back,” Blake told her as the sound of a phone humming began to underscore the TV.

“Hello?” Roselyn said, answering it without bothering to ask who it was; Troian had supplied them with the phone, which was in her name. The others lost any interest in Mexican frenzied females, watching the leader and the expression on her face as she listened to the other end.

“Ah, I see… all right, I’ll tell ‘em. Thanks for everything again, Troy – get some sleep, girl. Night.” She hung up the phone and pocketed it.

“Troian got a few minutes on the phone with Navi – she’s working until Monday. She’s got that day off so she can drop by here and sort me and Olivia out, but until then…” she shrugged.

“Put it on Channel 5, Miss Remote Control Hog,” Olivia said to Shay amiably. “Time for the news.”

“Yeah, some more downers won’t make much difference now,” Hayden cracked as the channel changed, the screen filling with Channel 5’s slightly-less-flash-than-Channel-7 news set. But at least it was the weekend news, so they had that foxy Kate Mara hosting. Five heads leaned in close and five sets of ears perked up as the cute young brunette started to deliver the latest events in San Francisco.

A half hour later, five heads leaned back once Kate had bid the viewers good night. For once they’d been left dissatisfied by a beautiful woman in a non-sexual sense – she’d told the viewers bedtime stories about robbery, industrial disputes, and centenarian twins. But not a word about members of the San Francisco Eight being captured, not even at the end as a “And in late-minute breaking news” piece.

“Maybe something happened to Emma at-“ Shay started.

“You think they wouldn’t have said something?” Olivia snapped, before catching herself.

“And I can’t see Megan and Emma suddenly deciding to run off somewhere once she got dosed,” Hayden added.

“We can’t sort out a plan without sleep,” Roselyn stated, switching the set off. “Off to bed, the lot of you.”

“Yes, mom,” Blake said cutely, not asking what plan she was talking about. She didn’t have to.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Looking forward to the big meeting tomorrow, Ash?”

“Still nervous,” Ashley Benson admitted to her mother down the phone as she kicked back at home.

“Don’t worry – they’ll love you. Just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll end up the next Barbara Walters.”

Ashley was not planning on sharing a screen with a load of other women any time ever, but she didn’t say that to Mom (a huge fan of “The View”), but otherwise things had never been better for her. Channel 7 News regularly kicked local ratings tushy, she’d broken several impressive stories – including a couple involving enemies of Rhona Mitra, for which Mitra had been very appreciative (meaning she had actually bothered to phone and thank her, which by Rhona Mitra standards was appreciative) – and Ashley had been given a healthy raise. They were even talking about giving her a shot at reporting on the network… going from being a big fish in a pretty big pond to a lower rung nationally wasn’t something she was really looking forward because of having to leave Channel 7 and her star status, but a rung upward was a rung upward.

“When are you going to meet someone?”

“Mom, I’m not looking… no time yet,” Ashley lied. She’d had a man over earlier that evening anyway – a pretty handsome fellow, guy by the name of Billy Kruger, who’d left her a little package.

“Compliments of Rhona,” he’d said.

“Wow,” Ashley had breathed on opening it. “Just what I need.”

“She had a feeling you could use that – always thinking ahead,” Billy had smiled. “Had it made specially for you.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” the blonde had said. “And I got something for you…”

“No thanks, ma’am. I’m just the messenger boy. And I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Ashley had grinned. “C’mon, live a little…”

“I’ll pass,” Billy had said.

“Can’t let you go without something though… “ Ashley had scurried away, emphasising her wiggle to give Billy an idea of what he was turning down, and written him out a decent amount on a cheque. What was inside the package made it worth it to her, and remembering the smile on his face when she’d handed him the slip, she sighed as she fondled the contents of the package.

“Trust me, mom… I got everything I need…” Ashley told her mother.

* * * * * * * * * *

The first thing Victoria Justice did when she woke up on Monday morning was to be thankful. Thankful that she was sleeping in a bed instead of on a bench; in a bed in an apartment rather than a drug den or somewhere; and in a bed with someone who was happy to be with her without paying her. And even in the unlikely event of Tammin Sursok paying her, none of it would be going into Rhona Mitra’s cavernous pockets.

The brunette turned her head, expecting to see Tammin sleeping next to her. For a moment Victoria’s heart jumped in fear on seeing she was alone in the bed – no, not again… but then she remembered. Tammin wasn’t a client, and she sure as fuck wasn’t one of Rhona’s friends – she’d just gone to work. Victoria expected her to leave early, but why did she have to leave *this* early? It wasn’t like she was one of the cleaners…

The bedroom door opened and Tammin, wearing a T-shirt and nothing else, slipped inside.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked gently, seeing Victoria’s face a split second before the surprised look on it vanished.

“No, I just thought it was later than it was…” the brunette replied, before she grimaced.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tammin.

“That shirt,” Victoria answered. “You DO know you don’t live in Oakland, right?”

Everyone at work knew Tammin was a lesbian, but no one knew that she was a bigtime Oakland Raiders fan in a sea of 49ers supporters (including her boss and Victoria). That was her real traumatic secret, but Tammin couldn’t help grinning on saying “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Take that shirt off right now, young lady,” Victoria said in mock-seriousness.

Tammin peeled the shirt off and threw it aside, letting the other woman check out her lissom nakedness before she climbed back into the bed.

“Much better,” Victoria smiled, kissing Tammin and resting a hand on one of the agent’s breasts. “Much, much better.”

She started to massage Tammin’s chest, repeatedly kissing her while feeling the Fed’s fingers exploring her body. As much as she liked the agent’s boobs, she could tell Tammin was really loving Victoria’s set – squeezing them together and rubbing the nipples into an erection (like they needed any help there). The woman had the same look on her face that Victoria had seen on a few of the women she’d slept with, a mixture of lust and envy; but in this case there was something different, something kinder. Tammin kissed the tips of Victoria’s nipples, tasting the circles around them.

“WAY perkier than mine were when I was 20,” Tammin smiled, with no bitterness in her voice at all – just appreciation.

“You wouldn’t be so jealous if you knew where they’d been,” Victoria commented.

“They’re not there now,” Tammin pointed out.

“No, they’re not,” the young woman replied with relief, slipping her hands alongside Tammin’s slim body and moving one set of fingers down to the tattoo above her crotch, tracing the tips over “Mind Body Soul.” The brunette started to lick her way softly down her bedmate, listening to Tammin’s little sighs with each touch of her tongue and caressing her smooth skin. If only more of the customers looked like her…

Within moments, Victoria had Tammin’s tattoo full in her vision, her eyes scanning it and moving a little further down and to the left, resting on the feast between the agent’s legs before returning to the three words.

“A sharp mind… a beautiful body… and a wonderful soul,” she whispered, kissing the tattoo. “Cursive’s a kind of turn-on with this, Tammin.”

“Say that last bit again,” said the agent, stroking Victoria’s head.

“Tammin… what, you get hot when someone says your name?”

“It’s just been so long since someone not related to me called me that,” Tammin explained. “Everyone at work calls me BJ, word got around and now most of my friends do it…”

“How come they call you BJ?” Victoria asked, gently kissing the area above her cunt.

“Blow Job Lips.”

“Jerks,” the brunette muttered, unable to see Tammin’s face light up. Other people she’d explained it to had cracked wise about how it suited her, and now this angel was actually sympathising with how it made Tammin Sursok felt… her hands fondled Victoria more intensely as the girl’s mouth touched her slot.

“Tammin,” she whispered.

The agent’s pussy began to moisten; until now Tammin hadn’t imagined anyone could ever say her name and make it sound sexy. As Victoria’s experienced tongue began to play with her clit, the agent reflected that she might just take this girl’s name if it ever got more serious – Agent Justice had a great ring to it. Mmmmm, good action there… her tongue moved along it like she was painting, getting the feel and texture just right. Tammin cradled the girl’s head as she munched, treating her pussy lips like they hadn’t been for a while.

“Feel like a little Bryan Adams?” the agent groaned as Victoria’s tongue probed deeper.

“Come again?” the other paused long enough to ask.

“My dad loves him,” Tammin explained. “I used to think ‘Summer Of 69’ was about the year but one night he put it on and he’d had way too much to drink – again – and he told me it was about…”

“I’m on it,” Victoria interrupted with a giggle. Slipping away from Tammin, she slowly got off the bed to give her partner a chance to check out her body, and then carefully climbed back on in reverse, again taking her time so Tammin could… well… enjoy the view of Victoria’s fine, blemish-challenged backside. Resting on the agent with her legs spread on either side of her face, Victoria placed her hands on Tammin’s own thighs before dipping her face down to get some more of that sweet FBI snatch; she might have entered before the agent’s own eager tongue thrust into her box, but she couldn’t be sure. But she was sure about how it felt.

Tammin’s tongue and lips lavished themselves on Victoria’s dark, tasty muff as if she hadn’t had this for years. She sucked and licked and probed like a woman possessed, while her hands pinched, stroked and slapped Victoria Justice’s cheeks. Seriously, if Tammin had time she would have fucked this girl’s foxy little ass until she was screaming (her and Tammin both). The agent tasted Victoria’s clit while relishing the mouth that was loving her own pussy, the tongue moving like a butterfly and making her wetter with each touch. Gripping Victoria tighter, Tammin was trying not to race the girl – she just wanted to make her feel as good as she was feeling right now.

The two women writhed on the bed, their moans starting to turn to screams of happiness as each one munched and tasted the other. Tammin’s fingers were squeezing Victoria’s ass harder as the girl  licked faster, but it was the younger woman on top who was starting to catch fire – she didn’t ever want to stop having this. Victoria didn’t know what was better, how Tammin tasted or the rapid movement of her tongue… “OooooohhhhhhhhTAMMMMMMINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  she howled, smelling Tammin’s lovely pussy fragrance and feeling her own secretions dampening the agent’s mouth as she kept on tonguing the woman, her body thrashing atop her as the ex-stripper had her first real orgasm since the time she and Dan…

No, screw him. He didn’t matter. He didn’t count any more. She wasn’t sure she was about to give up men for good, but for now and the foreseeable future all that mattered was this beautiful woman who’d saved her from that shithole of a club. Tammin was her benefactor, and she was going to make her happy she’d taken in Victoria Justice… and from the increasingly loud cries coming from the other end of her body, it sounded like Victoria WAS making her happy. The young girl’s tongue moved ever faster and eagerly, going deeper inside Tammin’s gorgeous cunt and fondling her legs. She had fantastic legs, and too many pant suits in her closet.

“Fuck me, Victoria! FUCK ME!!!” Tammin yelled. “DON’T STOP!!!”

The bed shook underneath Tammin’s bucking as she clutched Victoria, kissing her soaked pussy as she screamed her satisfaction and came underneath the girl, loving the hot delight shooting through her body. This one was a natural, and she was only 20… licking the insides of Victoria’s thighs, Tammin thanked fate for bringing this girl into her life. Even if it had been in the line of duty.

Glowing and happy, Victoria carefully turned around to face the beaming Tammin. “Not bad,” she laughed, kissing her on the lips.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” the agent replied.

“Can’t you call in sick today?” Victoria pouted.

“No rest for the wicked. It’ll be the weekend soon, relax,” Tammin said, folding an arm around the girl and resting the hand on her ass, patting it. “Spend the day at the beach or at a game. Not the Raiders, I swear.”

“Love’s all about compromises,” Victoria said. “I could sit through those guys if you let me play with your ass afterwards.”

“You can play with it all night tonight,” Tammin winked.

“Deal.” Smiling, Victoria put her head on the agent’s chest, closing her eyes for a moment. Wow, she was so warm, and even without a bath she smelt so good…

Victoria could still smell her when she woke up. The sun was now doing its business in the sky and piercing through the curtains, lighting up Victoria – and only Victoria, as she saw when she looked to her left. Tammin was gone, with a folded piece of paper on the pillow next to her.

Smiling and shaking her head at how the agent had managed to disengage herself from her embrace without interrupting the slumber, Victoria picked up the note and opened it; wow, this girl had terrible handwriting. It looked like she was telling her new roomie to be good, or at least to take care of the place while she was out. At least she could make out how the note ended: “P.S. Don’t worry about falling asleep after sex! :)

“You’re a keeper,” the young beauty laughed, folding up the note and heading for the bathroom.

A shower, an hour, a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and a couple of Twinkies later – how did Tammin stay so slim with all this junk food around the place, Victoria wondered? – she weighed her next move. She could show some appreciation for what Tammin had done for her lately by cleaning up her apartment. Or she could check out some things online for a couple of hours… play some Candy Crush, listen to some music, whatever.

No contest. She put the bowl in the dishwasher and headed to the PC; Candy Crush it would be. Singing to herself, she turned it on and sat herself down, hand on the mouse.

“You don’t have to be afraid to put your dream in action, you’re never gonna fade, you’ll be the main attraction…” Wishing she could remember who sang that song, Victoria moved the cursor towards one of Tammin’s Internet bookmarks, the gateway to fun for the next couple of hours. “…cause you know that if you’re living your imagination, tomorrow you’ll be everybody’s…”

She stopped the mouse before it got to the icon. Victoria hadn’t forgotten the words; she hadn’t forgotten anything. In fact, the name she’d spotted underneath one of the folders on Tammin Sursok’s desktop was one she would never, ever forget.

Victoria Justice sat there, staring at the folder marked “Mitra.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Biel had known she preferred girls from the moment she could walk; that wasn’t the only reason she had a sign on her bedroom door saying “No Boys Allowed,” but it certainly helped. She wasn’t a man-hater as such, no way – but she was glad that Ben was gone.

Not least because of the new girl. For a start, Vanessa Hudgens never did things like sending memos to the wrong office, and she didn’t go around harassing the other staffers – even though Ben had his brains in his pants rather than his head, it was the latter rather than the former that had ended up writing finis to his career in the FBI. When word got out about how he’d banged Rebel Wilson, no one had ever let him forget it. Especially the women; it might have been the naked fat women porn mags that someone (maybe someone whose name rhymed with “Blisten Well”) had put on his desk that tipped the scales, or it might not have been. Either way, goodbye and good riddance.

Ironically, the one person Ben had never tried to come on to was the one person Vanessa had her eyes on; she was the archetypal employee with a thing for the boss, but that was all it was… and as much fun as Beverley Mitchell was, Jessica had to admit it was a change to have someone who more or less knew her place in the food chain. And this morning the place was sitting next to her while she dictated a letter…

“…and surveillance of the Camdens is to continue for the foreseeable future. Yours, etc.,” she finished, pacing back and forth while Vanessa’s fingers took down the information for her superiors. “Two copies of that letter, please?”

“Right away, ma’am,” the stunning, almond-eyed young woman replied. “Would you like a refill?”

“That can keep,” Jessica answered, although she did want some fresh coffee. “I’ve got another message to ship out.”

“I’m all ears, ma’am,” Vanessa said, her fingers up and ready to get the words on the keyboard (that was another thing Ben sucked at).

“To Kara Wade,” Director Biel started, beginning to walk back and forth again. “Kara, regarding our communication of the 26th, I feel some more investigation is in order. The Hudgens girl shows promise after the disappointment of her predecessor, and I feel that given time, will be rewarded for the time and effort she puts into being competent, comprehensible… and…”

Jessica stopped still and returned the knowing expression, complete with raised eyebrow, that Vanessa was giving her.

“…and very sexy,” the boss finished.

Vanessa demurely set aside her transcribing materials, headed to the door and locked it, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at Jessica before she twitched the hem of her dress upwards, revealing some more of her silky thighs – the dress stopped a couple of inches above the knees.

Eyeing the boss knowingly, Vanessa lifted the dress further up, showing more of her legs – and a little more besides. She lived close enough that she could walk to work and luckily for her, if not for the men of San Francisco, it hadn’t been a windy day; the wind blowing up her dress would have shown off her lovely trimmed pussy to the world. Not that she’d have minded if anyone saw, but…

“I never break my word,” she cooed to the boss.

“No, you don’t,” Jessica agreed, fixing on Vanessa Hudgens’ snatch with laserlike accuracy as the secretary carefully removed her dress, draping it over the back of one of the chairs. She’d promised to go commando, and Jessica wished she’d extended it to the top half as well. Those boobs were excellent, too good to be held back by stupid stinking brassieres.

Vanessa leaned back against the door, a hand casually slipping down between her legs. She had her eyes half-closed; she wasn’t exactly a walking ego but she knew what she had, and she liked how it felt.  Jessica watched the secretary’s fingers spreading her pussylips open as the other hand slipped inside her top, unclipping the bra with practised ease and pulling it off her chest, sending it flying to the floor. Vanessa moaned as she fondled herself above and below; Jessica could not blame her. Seriously, if she had a body like that she’d get off on touching herself as well.

The boss’s eyes drifted down the sleekness of Vanessa’s form, watching her fingers playing with her gorgeous little box. Her middle finger was poking inside as the fingers on each side rubbed the lips, and Jessica wanted to be one of those fingers badly – she could feel her panties beginning to show the effect. She flicked her eyes to the left briefly, and noted to her relief that the intercom was switched off… the last thing she wanted was a repeat of the time she and then-neophyte Kristen Bell had 69’d and broadcast their orgasms to the whole office; some people STILL ragged Kristen about it (if not Director Biel – they knew what side their bread was buttered).

“Good thing I didn’t wear pants today,” Jessica commented, undoing her skirt and flinging it aside, noting how Vanessa’s eyes lit up on seeing the outline of her mound under the crisp (if starting to moisten) white panties. As the boss slid one hand under the edge of her underwear, the other started to undo her top; she pushed the middle finger inside her soaking, steaming crotch while she discarded the shirt, displaying her bra-clad rack.

The bra followed the shirt to the ground a moment later, and Jessica didn’t miss the way Vanessa’s eyes lit up on seeing those glorious chest orbs swaying free. Or how the fingers started to move faster between her legs – Vanessa dreamt about Jessica’s breasts often, but having them right in front of her was another thing. The boss began to play with the hardened nipples, tweaking each one in turn while her other hand thrust inside and out of her dripping snatch. The race was on.

“Mmm… uhhh…. Ooohh…” Jessica had a problem – she wanted to get these panties off,  but there was no way she could do it without ruining the rhythm. Oh, screw it – Jessica ripped them off with one quick jerk, leaving her naked except for her high heels. Just like those dancers the team had seen in LA, except maybe hotter, she allowed herself to think.

With her eyes twinkling and fingers fucking, Vanessa gently swayed her body as she turned, bending and thrusting her hindquarters up towards the boss as she kept sliding fingers in and out of her box. The smoothness of Vanessa’s behind (which was enough in itself to make her jealous – damn bumps) and the two orifices under it exposed right in her face was too much for Jessica Biel; gritting her teeth to keep from yowling, she let her breath out in short sharp spurts, unable to keep from looking at Vanessa’s privates. If it hadn’t been for this stupid conference call she’d have to take with other agency heads she’d have dropped to her knees and sucked that box till the cows came home… feeling her own pussy juice covering her fingers, she gave in to the power Vanessa had between her legs. It was all she could to keep from screaming – the door was thick but probably not THAT thick.

“Was I good?” Vanessa asked, still facing away and enjoying how she was revving herself up.

“You did good, baby,” Jessica panted. “And I got your prize… right here.”

The gorgeous black-haired woman looked over her shoulder, and was treated to the sight of Jessica Biel’s bare ass as the boss bent over the desk, with a very familiar device within reach. But the dildo didn’t have the shine that would come from it being pre-lubed, meaning that there’d be no coring of the director’s asshole this time. Still, Vanessa didn’t mind because a) anything that the boss wanted was just fine with her, and b) she sympathised because she herself didn’t like anal sex, as a receiver or as a giver. Which meant that if Jessica Biel had ordered her to fuck her ass till it bled, Vanessa would’ve done it under the rule of a).

Vanessa strapped it on quickly, impressed that it was in perfect proportion to her body – it wasn’t of Manuel Ferrara dimensions, but not a toothpick either. The secretary spread her fingers over the Biel buns, giving each a little pinch. Wow; how Jessica could keep from feeling herself up all day Vanessa would never know. She was so whootiful… now that was a term Vanessa had to remember to never use around Jessica in public. Still fondling her, the secretary dabbed the boss’s open, waiting snatch with the tip of the dildo. Touching it several times more and liking how Jessica’s body quivered with each little dab, Vanessa started to slide it in a fraction of an inch before moving it back out, starting to grind her own form as the probing continued.

Not for the first time, Vanessa envied men – it must be wonderful for them to be able to do this and really get an idea of what pussy felt like (though ironically they’d never know what Jessica Biel’s actually felt like). Still, until medical science made it possible for a woman to grow her own penis, this would have to do; Miss Hudgens pushed further up Jessica, moving her hands up the boss’s long, warm, strong back. She even had a sexy spine…as she thrust into the boss, Vanessa quickly leaned down and kissed it while her hands reached Jessica’s undone hair, fondling the wavy tresses. Pumping away with her breath coming in quick spurts, Vanessa began to grab the boss’s hair, holding it as hard as she could without yanking back painfully.

“Whoo… yes, V, yes yes YES…” Jessica began to buck forwards and backwards, feeling Vanessa’s body slamming against her and grinding into her cunt – on and on the woman pounded behind her, going deeper and faster with each movement. “C’mon girl, DO IT!!!”

Still holding Jessica’s hair with one hand, Vanessa slapped one of the boss’s sides with the other as if she was riding her… which she was. She slapped her again, whooping and screaming as she slid in and out of her at an increasing pace; the desk started to shake a little under their writhings and thrashings. Jessica’s fingers gripped the edge as her body heated up, howling as the girl steamed her snatch up… “OOOOOHHHHHHYES!!!!!!!!! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKYES!!!!!!!!!!!”

Vanessa’s screams were almost as loud as Jessica’s as she felt wave after wave of delight rushing through her body, with part of her almost wishing that Beverley Mitchell could see this; Agent Mitchell had given her the evil eye from day one, and Vanessa had replied in kind. She knew a suck-up when she saw one, when all she wanted to do was be the best she could be for her boss. She just hoped Jessica liked her better than Mitchell…

As Jessica felt Vanessa withdraw the now-sodden dildo, she felt something she hadn’t gotten from Beverley. As much as she’d enjoyed Agent Mitchell’s body, Jessica had never been convinced the ex-secretary hadn’t just been kissing her ass figuratively as well as literally; Vanessa here had no such ambitions. All she wanted to do was please her and do her job, and that was just how she liked it. Even though the dildo was so lubricated that it could have been popped up her back door no trouble, Jessica knew that Vanessa knew better than to try it – something she wasn’t entirely sure could be said for Beverley. No, Vanessa Hudgens was here to serve her in every way.

Jessica felt Vanessa’s lips lightly kissing her open, damp pussy. Nothing further, just a tender little kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I should be… thanking you,” Jessica replied as she gingerly turned around, smiling up at the gleaming, glowing girl.

“By the way… um…” Vanessa bit her lip, because this was embarrassing. She didn’t want to say what she had to say, but…

“Out with it,” Jessica said, still heaving.

“Do we have anything in petty cash? I’m a little short,” the secretary blurted. “I went to get some money out this morning and I had like 33 cents left, and I don’t know where all the cash went because I know I didn’t spend that much over the weekend…”

“How much do you need?” Jessica interrupted.

“About $400, just till pay day,” Vanessa replied. “I feel so… dirty… having to ask like this. My parents would kill me if they knew about this… never did it before…”

“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there,” Jessica assured her. “And one more thing…”

She picked up the discarded torn underwear, and handed it to Vanessa. “You earned it.”

The secretary kissed the boss as she slipped it into her dress;  Vanessa already had plans for it that evening.

* * * * * * * * *

Another car was parked near the apartment building. It was fairly big, enough to hold a family of five – which is exactly what it was used for most days. But Navi Rawat didn’t have any of her children with her this morning; this was business.

Hoping that her three boys weren’t giving the sitter any problems, she hefted the case she had with her and moved as casually as she could to the entrance – it wasn’t the most populous part of San Francisco, but she couldn’t help thinking people were watching her. And no matter how many times Troian had assured her the place had more ants than people, she still felt a little self-conscious. What if there were cops hiding behind that burnt-out car ready to spring out the second she knocked…?

She mentally slapped herself. This wasn’t “Numb3rs” or some crap cop show like that, this was real life – and in real life the cops weren’t always in the right place at the right time. The lovely EMT knocked three times, paused and then knocked a further four.

A few moments later, the door opened; it wasn’t flung aside but opened to give Navi just enough space to slip into the hideout. As Shay Mitchell shut it behind her, she smiled in relief at the newcomer.

“Sorry we had to do the secret knock thing,” Shay told her.

“You’ve got to be careful, I know,” Navi replied. “How are you all bearing up?”

“Bad,” the escapee admitted as they entered the apartment. “We’re trying not to lose it over Megan and Emma, but…”

“So you’re the famous Navi,” Roselyn smiled on seeing the woman.

“I see Hayden’s been spreading the word,” the EMT said as she took in Roselyn’s bullet wound, unsurprised to see that Miss Panettiere wasn’t in the room. The wound had been widened a little thanks to Roselyn’s self-cauterization and digging out of the bullet on arrival at the hideout, but the only alternative had been to leave it in there until they could have gotten some kind of professional help.

“Brought some more painkillers,” Navi continued, cleaning out the jagged hole in Roselyn’s arm. “And sutures.”

“Is it all right if I leave the room?” asked Blake. “That always grosses me out.”

“You could just look away,” Olivia pointed out. “That’s what I always do.”

“You’ll have to – you’re next,” Navi replied, getting the sterilized needle threaded and ready. “Want a little local anesthetic first, Miss Sanchez?”

“Call me Roselyn, and yes. Definitely,” the leader admitted.

Both Blake and Shay kept their eyes elsewhere as Navi sewed up Roselyn’s arm – she wasn’t exactly Florence Nightingale, but it would do the job provided Roselyn didn’t do anything particularly stupid over the next few days. “Sorry I’m all out of lollipops… maybe next time?” she added, tying it off.

“Lemon, please,” Roselyn smiled.

“And now let’s take care of your friend,” Navi continued briskly as Olivia dispensed with her dress – Troian and JoAnna had brought each of them one change of costume to give them a break from their prison duds. Under normal circumstances, getting a chance to see Olivia’s long legs would have been a treat, but these weren’t normal circumstances; she’d taken a bullet in the upper thigh, and digging it out of her had not been fun – the woman had wailed while Roselyn removed it and the others held on to her as she thrashed around. Olivia had begged them to leave it until they could see a doctor, but Roselyn had told her the longer they left it in the worse it would be; Olivia had snapped that it was HER leg, not theirs, but she was overruled. And sweary.

Now Olivia lay back down, aware that some of them were probably envious of her right now – even under these circumstances, having a foxy dusky woman between their legs wasn’t something to sneeze at. As Navi gently wiped the gaping wound on the inside of the patient’s leg, Olivia could tell she was paying entirely too much attention to the job; while a good thing, it was almost as if she didn’t dare look up… like if she did, she might like what she saw outlined through Olivia’s panties.

“You can look up,” Olivia assured her. “It won’t bite, and I don’t mind.”

“But I do,” the EMT replied, as she finished disinfecting her. “I already sowed my woman-to-woman oats… I’ve got a good man and three kids, and I don’t cheat.”

Olivia could see where Navi was coming from, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy feeling her fingers touching the flesh before she began to close up the wound. It wasn’t as big as Roselyn’s but it still had to be stitched (not Olivia’s idea of fun, because she liked needles the way Elton John liked girls). Clenching her teeth, she tried to imagine Navi’s fingers moving up her legs for reasons not involving needles…

“Maybe I could drop by for a drink or something when this is all over?” she suggested airily, or as airily as she could with the needle pulling the surgical thread through her skin.

“No can do,” said Navi. “If Leon ever finds out he’d ask a whole bunch of questions. Hang on, it’s almost done…”

She tied the suture off and cut the needle away. “Hayden still swear a lot when I’m mentioned?”

“She’s quietened down now,” Roselyn replied.

“She asleep? Probably the only way I’d get to check her arm,” Navi reflected.

“The bandages and painkillers seem to work just fine for her,” said Olivia.

“But she’s resting now,” Blake added. “It’s best to just leave her.”

“All right,” Navi sighed. “I just wish she’d let it go though… now as long as Olivia and Roselyn don’t do anything rough, it should be fine.”

“No chance of us running around the place soon,” Olivia lied.

As long as Megan and Emma were in Rhona’s care, there was every chance of it.

* * * * * * * * *

Hayden was on her bed, but she wasn’t asleep.

She’d heard Navi come in and talk to the others while she was doing her thing. Part of her knew that Navi didn’t have any bad feelings towards her, but part of her just couldn’t get past… the past. The blonde’s body was screaming to let the EMT check her arm, but her mind would not let her do it.

She just had to grin and bear it – it wasn’t gangrenous or anything like that, it was just a weakened arm. And she didn’t need both arms to deal with Ashley Benson, no sir.

Hayden clenched her good hand and punched the mattress.

* * * * * * * * * *

“The family of Scarlett Johansson, one of the two guards hospitalized in the wake of the Remy Hadley breakout, have offered a reward of $50,000 for information leading to the capture of the seven escaped convicts,” Ashley Benson told Channel 7 viewers. “This comes not long after the family of head guard Cate Blanchett, who was shot during the escape, placed a bounty for the same amount. Johansson and Blanchett’s conditions remain critical.”

Scarlett and Cate’s faces accompanied Ashley’s voice as Victor Thomas, watching at home, kept a hand on the remote control. This wasn’t a euphemism; he was waiting for the report to end so he could switch the channel – which he wouldn’t have done if Hayden Panettiere was still working there.

“Just what *is* causing money to vanish all over the City by the Bay? Our look at the cash crisis hitting bank customers – hopefully not including you,” Ashley said with a little professionally reassuring smile, “after the break.”

“Not including YOU, you mean,” Victor muttered, bringing up Channel 5. He didn’t believe for a second Ashley was concerned about anything but her own welfare – or that Hayden had really been the San Francisco Eight’s lookout. Maybe it was because he was biased, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Ashley had had something to do with it; he’d never liked her the way he liked Hayden. And he knew he’d never have a chance with her even if his girlfriend hadn’t been the one to tell her Hayden liked girls.

Luckily, Kate Mara was the kind of girlfriend who was understanding about her guy’s fantasies. Equally luckily, she didn’t care for Ashley Benson any more than he did; personality and ego of Asia proportions aside, Kate had had it in for Ashley ever since she’d gotten her friend Katy fired. The woman had never really bounced back from losing her job – she had disappeared some time later, and no one seemed to know where she was. Kate and Victor still hoped Katy Bailey hadn’t done something terrible to herself, but the longer she was gone the more likely it was. And it was all Ashley’s fault, and she didn’t care…

As Channel 5’s news began after the break, Victor forced himself to stop thinking about Ashley and cheer himself up – to start to think about Hayden. And Kate.

Or Hayden AND Kate.

Had anyone been in the room with him and spotted what was happening in his jeans, they would see that this was having the desired effect.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emma Roberts didn’t know anything.

She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious after that little run-in at the hospital, she didn’t know where Megan was, and right down she didn’t know where SHE was. Oh, it wasn’t like they were in the hands of the cops unless they’d gotten one hell of an upgrade; the surroundings weren’t bad – she was in a room that was way bigger than the one she had in the hideout, and the bed she was on was a lot more comfortable. Even if she had been handcuffed to the head of it while out cold.

Coughing as she glanced at the table on the side of the bed, Emma spotted a variety of pills, a bottle of water, two boxes of Kleenex and some cartons of orange juice. She let herself crack a half-smile; whoever had them wherever they were, they obviously needed them intact for the moment. She could have used something now, but these stupid hands…

How about that. The door on the other side of the expanse that was her room opened, ushering in the kind of nurse Emma had always wanted – a beautiful green-eyed blonde with a cheerful look on her face. Only the excess of clothes got in the way of her being the healthcare provider of her dreams.

“Hi!” she beamed at the safecracker.

“Hi yourself, Miss…”

“Hannah Davis,” the “nurse” answered, with a slight curtsy as she came bedside. “But you can call me Hannah – my mistress put me in charge of you as long as you and your friend are here. Did you sleep well?”

“Thanks to that chloroform? Yeah,” Emma replied as Hannah poured out some of the juice, dropped a few of the pills into the drink and stirred the whole thing together.

“Sorry about the restraints,” the blonde said apologetically. “She doesn’t want to take chances. Sit up a little… that’s great.”

“Where’s Megan?”

“Your friend’s next door – I think she’s still asleep. Now drink up, you’re not out of the woods yet.”

As Hannah put the glass to Emma’s lips, it occurred to her that the nurse hadn’t said who “she” was. But as the first gulps of OJ went down her throat, Emma realised that she didn’t have to ask – she already knew.

* * * * * * * * * *

Megan Fox awoke naked, face down in a pile of pillows, one arm handcuffed to the headboard. It was hardly the first time this had happened to her in her life, and short of waking up handcuffed to a farm animal or some kind of sex robot, she normally would’ve shaken it off and just gotten on with her day. There were cars to steal, deals to be made, and hot boys and girls to have sex with.

Except, she hadn’t stolen a lot of cars lately. Having been stuck in prison for 6 months would do that to a girl, she reasoned. But she’d also never woken up naked and handcuffed in prison.

Her mind was foggy, and she had some aches she couldn’t quite explain. Neither of those were particularly unusual, either, except this wasn’t a hangover, and she didn’t think she’d gotten laid last night.

Last night? Had a whole night past already? She couldn’t quite…

The hospital! Emma! Memory came flooding back to Megan, and she sprung up, nearly leaping off the bed until her arm yanked her back on it, thanks to the handcuffs. She swore, mostly because now her shoulder ached, and turned to face the headboard, looking around to see if she could spot a key.

“You won’t find one,” a voice said. Megan turned around, making no effort to cover her nudity – someone had chained her up completely naked, they’d seen everything she had to offer. No reason to be modest now. The voice belonged to a lovely brown haired woman clad in a classic French maid’s outfit, complete with white frill and fishnet stockings. She stood by a door Megan hadn’t spotted earlier, and carried a tray with what looked like a tea set upon it.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Hannah Davis,” the woman said, approaching. “And I’m afraid you’re going to be cuffed to that bed for a while.”

“Rhona doesn’t want me going anywhere, huh?” Megan asked, having already guessed who grabbed her and Emma. “What about my friend?”

“She’s okay, I just got done looking in on her earlier. Her injuries and illness are being looked at.”

“Awfully kind of Rhona,” Megan said.

“Mistress Mitra is prone to kindness,” Hannah said. “Tea?”

“Sure, fine, whatever,” Megan said, turning around to sit as comfortably as she could on the bed with her arm still stuck. Hannah came and poured a cup right in front of Megan, and the erstwhile car thief took a tentative sip. “Is that mint?”

“Just a bit, yes,” Hannah said. “I find it helps me wake up.”

Megan just sipped it quietly for a minute. Finally, she had to ask. “So, when do I see Rhona?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said.

“Because she’s not keeping me alive, chained to a bed all naked and rape-ready for nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said again.

“If she was going to kill me, she’d have done it already, so I assume she wants something from me.”

“That seems reasonable, ma’am,” Hannah said.

“Don’t call me ma’am, I steal for a living,” Megan said.

“What would you like me to call you?”

“Megan works.”

“Well then, Megan, would you care for a sponge bath?”

“Sponge bath?” Megan asked.

“Yes, Megan,” Hannah said. “Mistress Mitra prefers her guests be as comfortable as possible, even when here against their will. I’m not allowed to uncuff you, but I can help you clean up.”

Megan gave Hannah a once-over. She was quite attractive. “Do I get to give you one in return?”

Hannah smiled at her. “Perhaps later. I’m told to have you ready sooner rather than later.”

“I can do quickies,” Megan offered, even as Hannah put the tea set aside and stood up.

“I don’t,” Hannah said, turning to give Megan a sultry look. “I prefer my lovemaking to be long and powerful. I’ve spent HOURS going down on a woman before, and I’ve made men wear off their Viagra before I’ve been satisfied with them.”

Megan had to swallow hard all of a sudden, and she was uncomfortably warm between her legs.

“I’ll go get the water for your bath.”

“Okay,” Megan said, her voice barely a whisper. Hannah disappeared out the door, and for a long moment, Megan could do nothing but imagine Hannah’s head between her legs, licking away for hours and hours. She had to shake her head to break the imagery, because a moment later Hannah returned with a bucket of warm water and a couple of washcloths.

“You sure you don’t want to get undressed? I’d hate for you to get that outfit all wet,” Megan said as Hannah sat down on the bed next to her.

“Tempting, but I have my orders,” Hannah said, wetting a cloth and running it down Megan’s arm. The warm water felt good, and for a few minutes, Megan laid off trying to get into Hannah’s panties and let the other girl clean her. But as Hannah got around to washing her breasts, Megan could help but try again.

“Mmmm, you’re so gentle. How can I thank you-”

“You can thank her, Megan, by shutting up and taking it like a champ,” a smarmy British voice said from the door. Megan turned to look and felt her gut tighten. Standing there in the doorway, holding a long pink, flexible dildo, was Rosie Huntington-Whiteley.

“Rosie!” Megan said, surprised. “W-what are you-”

“Rhona sent me to… question you,” Rosie said, sauntering into the room. She wore a flowery summer dress and giant sunglasses that she took off and left on the bedside table. The look in her eye was hungry, and Megan knew she was in for trouble – trouble she might not survive.

“Rosie, please, there’s gotta-”

“Hush, luv,” Rosie said, putting a finger on Megan’s lips. “There’s no talking me out of this.” She glanced at Hannah. “Make sure you wash her crotch thoroughly. I like my toys clean before I dirty them up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah said, moving to start washing between Megan’s legs.

“You look lovely, Megan. Scrapes and bruises aside, the time in prison hasn’t done you any harm.”

“Rosie, please, can’t we just talk?” Megan asked. She’d slept with Rosie before, knew the kinds of things that got Rhona Mitra’s girlfriend off. She also knew how deadly the waif-ish girl could be. Despite her prim and proper demeanor, Rosie could be even deadlier than Jamie Pressly.

“Oh, I do so hate a chatty bird in bed, Megs,” Rosie said, reaching over to gently tweak one of Megan’s nipples. “I think maybe I’ll just fuck the answers I need out of you.” With that, she undid the belt around her waist, and her dress fell open. Rosie hadn’t bothered with underwear of any kind, and as the dress hit the floor, she was naked save for her shoes, which she kicked off in good measure. Still holding the large dildo, she climbed up onto the bed and straddled Megan.

“Please, Rosie-” Megan tried one last time, but Rosie silenced her with a kiss – and a pinch on the nipple.

“Tut-tut, luv. I’m going to ask you questions, you’re going to answer. Answer correctly, and I please you. Refuse to answer, and I use you to please me. Lie to me… well, I’ll still enjoy it, but you most certainly won’t.”

And with that, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley sank three fingers into Megan Fox’s snatch, and the interrogation began.

“Why did you leave Grace and Jaime behind?” Rosie demanded, sliding her fingers in and out rapidly, forcefully fucking the car thief.

“Ugh! Ah! Grace betrayed us!” Megan called out. “She was working for Rhona!”

Rosie slapped Megan across the face. Hard. “And Jaime?”

“She was a homicidal BITCH,” Megan snapped back. “Your type of girl.”

That earned Megan another slap. A hard one. But at the same time, Rosie pushed the dildo in and twisted it, eliciting a wave of pleasure inside Megan’s hungry pussy.

“Besides Emma, are any of the others sick?” Rosie asked, her voice a husky whisper in Megan’s ear.

“Roselyn’s got laryngitis, Blake found some poison ivy, and we’re pretty sure Hayden’s suffering from a nasty case of erectile dysfunc-” The slap this time was hard enough to make the corner of Megan’s mouth bleed.

“No lying,” Rosie said, reaching down and pinching Megan’s clit. Hard.

“OUCH!” Megan cried out. Rosie didn’t seem to care.

“Now shall we try this again, or am I really going to have to hurt you?” the Englishwoman asked.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tammin Sursok had a surprise waiting for her when she got home – the smell of food cooking.

Some nights she made herself something, but more often she settled for takeout or for ringing up Papa John’s or whoever; and here was her apartment filled with the smell of fettuccine with chicken, accompanied by singing from chef Victoria Justice.

“How’s my hard-working woman?” Victoria asked cheerfully on seeing Tammin.

“Surprised,” the agent replied. “And grateful – you didn’t have to do that.”

“It was my turn, and I didn’t want to hang around the place doing nothing,” said Victoria, kissing her.

“I’m warning you, I make Popeye’s seem like Wolfgang Puck,” Tammin laughed as she headed off to change.

Once she’d donned shorts and a T-shirt (and did a little bit of a wash), she returned to be greeted by the sight of the table set with glasses, lemonade and two plates laden with yumminess. Victoria was seated, looking up at Tammin as if she couldn’t wait to dig in; but the FBI agent part of her saw a little hesitancy in her eyes, as if there was something bothering her.

“Dig in,” she said amiably.

“That’s what it’s there for…” Tammin’s mouth was filled with food in a second, and her face lit up. She gave Victoria the thumbs-up as she munched.

“So any more trouble at work?” Victoria asked as she began to eat.

“No more than usual; no closer to cleaning up the streets of San Francisco than we were yesterday. Any problems?”

“The guy who lives below me keeps playing his music too loud but other than that…”

Victoria’s voice tailed off, as Tammin saw the hesitancy again. Immediately she knew there was something on the young woman’s mind that went beyond loud neighbours, but she also knew that turning on the hard-edged investigator was the wrong approach. And really, how bad could it be?

“Spit it out, Victoria,” Tammin said gently.

“There’s nothing wrong-“

“There is. You can tell me – I won’t get mad.”

“All right,” said the black-haired lass. “I was on your computer today…”

“And you were looking for porn, right?” Tammin asked sympathetically. “I’m not gonna throw you out for that – done it myself more times than I can count.”

“Almost wish it was porn.” Victoria hesitated again before she decided to just come out with it.

“Why are you checking up on my old boss? Is it because of Vorderman?”

Tammin almost choked on her fettuccine. There was only one Vorderman she could think of – Carol Vorderman, one of the biggest drug dealers in San Francisco, if not the entire state. And here was this cutie asking if her boss was involved… she swallowed her food, getting a grip on herself.

“Who exactly was your boss, Victoria?”

“Her name’s Rhona Mitra,” the ex-stripper replied. “I was going to play some Candy Crush and I saw you had a folder with her last name on it…”

“So you used to work for her?” asked the agent, trying to keep herself in check.

“Yeah. She had me join in with Vorderman for one of her threeways. Wasn’t the first time either. Didn’t want to especially after I saw them-“ Victoria stopped.

“Saw them doing what? Relax, the place isn’t bugged.”

“I know, but…” Victoria waved a hand around uneasily. “I’m kind of scared.”

“Of who? Me?” asked Tammin.

“Of Rhona,” said the lass. “I think she’s doing some stuff on the side. More than that folder had.”

Tammin normally wasn’t fond of people going through her computer stuff, but this was an exception to the rule. “Like what stuff?” she asked gently, cloaking the FBI side of her in all the velvet she could muster.

“Well, business wasn’t that great even before you guys showed up,” Victoria replied. “But we always got paid in full and on time, week in week out.”

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

“I know, and it’s not like I *want* to have someone come and say ‘Sorry, it’ll be a little late this week,’ but I keep expecting that to happen. Never did, not even when we had days when no one was watching us but the roaches. I think some of the customers we had to… um… entertain after hours had something to do with it.”

“Go on,” Tammin said gently, forgetting all about the food as she leant in closer to Victoria.

* * * * * * * * * *

This had turned out to be one of the best nights of Billy Kruger’s life; he’d done that little favour for Megan because he still had warm feelings for her… rack. And once he’d delivered to that sexy Ashley Benson, it was time for him to meet up with another blonde to get what was coming to him… the money, of course, all in cash.

The delivery was something extra; an English blonde with bee-stung lips and great legs, small boobs but screw it. Never one to resist an opportunity, Billy had invited her in for a drink… or two… or five.  Then he forgot all about drinks in favour of fondling Rosie Huntington-Whiteley’s heart-shaped ass (no panties had she on, making it even better), while she kissed his face and neck as if she inexplicably hadn’t gotten any for a while.

Rosie’s fingers had slithered down to his crotch while she asked him how badly he wanted her.

“Bad,” he’d admitted.

“How bad?” Rosie had asked. “Bad enough for me to do anything to you?”

“Yeah,” Billy had replied.

The “anything” had proven to be Rosie tying him up with leather thongs practically the moment they had arrived at “her” place (“I forgot to bring my goodies with me,” she’d explained) – for someone with arms like twigs this girl was way strong, and he surprised himself by being afraid to move for fear the leather would cut into him.

“Now, how does this sound?” Rosie had asked, standing over his naked body while she was still fully-dressed and dangling a cane. “You keep quiet while I tickle you with this and I pull off a piece of this,” she’d added, indicating her clothes.

Rosie’s tickling had been around his genitals, and had been more like whipping; it was a testament to how smoking hot she was that he’d let his package take everything she dished out. True to her word, she’d taken off one piece of clothing for every strike that was followed by silence, and the more of her lithe form on display the more Billy was determined to be quiet. Finally the slim blonde was naked above him, allowing him a look at her shaven snatch open over his face and distracting him from his throbbing-in-a-bad-way penis.

“Good boy,” she’d said with a smile. “You’ve earned this.”

Billy’s aching package was soon being salved by Rosie’s hungry mouth; she was so good, it was as if the punishment had never happened. He’d gotten some good ones from Megan for sure, but Rosie was the best, plus her fingers were sliding up his chest. Still tied up, he was looking forward to when she’d stop sucking and start riding… she could do anything she wanted to him, and even if he did have a choice he’d just let it happen.

Rosie’s practised hands moved over his upper body and the thongs around it, looking for one particular one that was a bit looser than the others; one that was draped around his throat. As she sucked harder, listening to his gurgles of delight and feeling his body starting to jerk under him while the spunk shot into her mouth, she found that particular one and pulled it tighter…

“Whoops,” the blonde giggled as she licked the late Billy’s cum from her lips. “Should’ve given you the danger word.”

Yep, this had been one of the best nights of Billy Kruger’s life – she liked it when they went out on a high.

* * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t just JoAnna’s personal life that was better six months later; she’d been taken off the front lines at SFUB. Goodbye dealing with customers of varying mental agility, hello working behind the scenes in an actual office higher up the food chain. Yes, things were going just fine for JoAnna Garcia.

“No, no, no, no NO!!!” JoAnna frantically tapped on her keyboard, grinding her teeth in frustration. “C’mon, not NOW…”

“Would it kill them to upgrade us to stuff actually made this century?” her colleague Jennifer Finnigan asked.

“If they did, Resources wouldn’t have a job,” JoAnna replied, picking up her desk phone and dialling a number. “Hope they won’t keep me waiting for hours this time.”

“You should live so long,” the blonde laughed as JoAnna waited for the other side to answer.

“Oh, hi! It’s JoAnna Garcia up in customer services; my PC’s playing up real bad this time… Yeah, that again…”

* * * * * * * * * *

“How’s it going apart from that?” said the woman from Resources. “Mmm-hmmm… got the message. We’ll have someone up in about half an hour… We’re really busy here, half an hour’s the best we can do… All right, all right, thanks.”

“She knows who you are,” Shay Mitchell told Roselyn Sanchez as “the woman from Resources” hung up. “Why not just say any old thing?”

“Method acting?” Roselyn chuckled, as she dialled another number.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Chastain liked nothing better in the mornings than to be relaxing with a good book – something to do with the arts, preferably. The toothy but strangely sexy redhead sat back on her hammock, enjoying all the wonderful Gallic artwork on display and taking her time turning the pages; this kind of thing could not be rushed.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever,” Jessica sighed, running an index finger over the naked French rugby player, one of a whole variety of fit Frenchmen in their birthday suits that the photobook had nothing but. If there was one complaint she had, it was that some of them had their packages hidden – but then again, size queen Jessica Chastain knew from experience that big guys didn’t always have big… well, you know. And it was only SOME of them.

Turning the page, her lovely mouth gaped to see that the gentleman over the next two pages wasn’t shy at all – no wonder he needed two pages.

“Vive la France,” she whispered, and lowered her lips to kiss the rod on display – as the phone rang.

“I’ll be back,” Jessica told the picture, and rolled off the hammock to get the phone.

“Howdy!”

“Is that the help?” Roselyn Sanchez asked.

“Ready, willing and able,” Jessica replied, almost forgetting about naked French sportsmen – this spy stuff with all the code phrases was fun.  “So JoJo’s all set?”

“Yeah, but don’t go racing there right now; JoAnna said it’ll look more convincing if you keep her waiting a while, like you really work at Resources.”

“Sounds like a plan – 20 minutes before I leave should do it. I’ve got something I want to do anyway.”

“Right. Oh, and Jessica…?” Roselyn asked.

“Shoot,” Jessica said.

“My girls and I all want to lick up your legs.”

“Thanks,” replied the redhead, looking at said legs. “You might just get your chance… call back when it’s done. Later!”

Hanging up the phone, Jessica took another look at her legs in the mirror – and at everything else in the mirror, since she wasn’t wearing anything. These tech people didn’t pride themselves on their appearance so she wouldn’t have to take too long to get dressed, but first things first… her eyes went back to the book. And what a book it was – she’d never bothered to learn any language but English, but if ever pictures were worth thousands of words these were.

As the redhead started to turn the pages again, she imagined herself in whatever the French term for “locker room” was, standing there in her birthday suit ready to welcome the conquering heroes after they’d thrashed their opponents – several gleaming, sweaty men looking for their reward. In fact she could see those muscular gods streaming into the room and peeling their uniforms off, a few of them pairing off with each other… well, these were Frenchmen, and it was to be expected that some of them would be too interested in each other to care about what she had, but there would still be more than enough for her. And the men who liked men were the least attractive ones there by far (it was her fantasy, they were her rules).

“Hey guys,” Jessica said without bothering to try and put on an accent, “ready to celebrate?”

The next instant Jessica Chastain was being swamped by a mass of horny Gallic rugby players – there wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t being pawed by somebody. She was proud of her large mouth and its ability to take in two members as huge as the ones that were thrust into it; as she began to suck eagerly, she felt a whole army of tongues and hands all over her porcelain body. Rack, legs, rump, you name it someone was lavishing himself on it; all these men trying their damnedest to empty themselves inside her. Never mind the four guys off to themselves (Jessica Chastain was a fair-minded woman, who believed gay men deserved to have their fun), this was all she needed to use up the 20 or so minutes until she had to get to the Union Bank.

She could have read something of course, but what was the fun in that?

* * * * * * * * * *

“BJ, get this. BJ, get that,” Tammin Sursok muttered as she pulled her car out of the San Fran FBI parking lot. She’d been a full field agent for too long to still be doing coffee runs and picking up Jessica Biel’s dry cleaning. Especially since Biel had a sexy little new secretary who could  be doing these menial tasks instead.

Of course, it was probably because that Vanessa Hudgens was so sexy that Jessica had dry cleaning in the first place.

Well, Tammin couldn’t complain too much, could she? She had a smoking hot girlfriend of her own now, a legitimate former stripper with the killer body to go with it. Heck, if any of Tammin’s clothes were worth all that much, she’d probably have increased dry cleaning bills, too. Which reminded her, she needed new underwear – Victoria was a little too quick on the ripping them off action. It was sexy as hell and the first time Tammin had nearly creamed herself right then and there, but now it was getting expensive. Cheaper thongs were required, she guessed.

Though that brought up another thought – Victoria. All alone back in the apartment, probably bored. Lounging about in those little cut-off jean shorts of hers that were so small, the pockets hung below the frayed leggings that barely covered her ass. All alone and horny, counting the seconds until Tammin got home and ravished her but good.

Tammin checked her GPS – her apartment was just a little too far away to swing by and  claim the delay was traffic related. Maybe there was some sort of hold up at the dry cleaners…

* * * * * * * * * *

“Have no fear, Resources is here!”

“Better late than never,” JoAnna said with a convincing mix of relief and miffedness as Jessica Chastain strolled into the office.

“Got to admit I’m surprised we don’t get called out here more often,” the newcomer continued. “All those people getting their money taken out…”

“Tell me about it,” Jennifer said. “I’m checking my own account like every hour just to be sure.”

“How long is this going to take?” asked JoAnna.

“With this prehistoric thing, who knows?” the other redhead replied.

“I got something I have to talk to Hart about anyway… treat him nice,” JoAnna said, catching herself before she finished that sentence with “Jessica” and tipped off Jennifer that she knew who this woman from Resources who she shouldn’t have met before was.

“You name your machines? How sweet,” Jessica smiled as she took JoAnna’s chair.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kat Dennings sat at her desk, waiting for her FBI computer to run through another program to find out how these hackers were draining everyone’s funds without notice. She was beyond the programming stage and was literally waiting while her under-powered system checked nearly a million transactions over the last 3 days. If she had access to some of the super-crays they had in DC, she’d be done already, but the FBI had other fish to fry and a long line of nerds hoping the super computers could solve their crimes.

So Kat sat at her desk, idly playing with a couple of action figures while she waited.

“’Oh, Sif, thank you for saving me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’”

“’Tis’ nothing, Jane Foster. I swore an oath to Thor that I would protect you, and that I shall.’”

“’I feel totally safe in your arms, Sif. Safer even than when I with Thor.’”

“’A woman as smart as you is a precious thing, Jane Foster. Thor is a lucky man.’”

“’A lucky man who doesn’t know how to treat a woman right.’”

“’Nonsense! He’s never been anything but honorable to you!’”

“’But sometimes a woman needs more than just honor. Sometimes, a woman needs love.’”

“’I could love you, Jane Foster. That is, as a woman loves another woman.’”

“’Oh, Sif! Please! Take me Sif! Take me and make me your woman!’”

Kat was just starting to press the two action figures together for a kiss when her computer beeped.

“Damnit,” she grumbled, putting down her toys and picking up her phone. She dialed Jessica Biel, who was waiting for these results. Surprisingly, it took a moment for the local FBI field director to pick up.

“Biel,” Jessica answered, out of breath.

“Latest round of hacks didn’t work, either, boss,” Kat reported. Biel moaned quietly at that. “I can try again, but it took three days just to come up with that series, and anything new will take longer.”

“W-we can’t wait that l-l-long,” Jessica stammered, her breath still ragged.

“Are you okay, Boss?”

“Oh I’m good. I’m so, so, SO good,” Jessica said. “Do you have any other ideas?”

“I could run bank-by-bank, look into various irregularities or odd deposits or anything.”

“I’ve already got a team of junior agents doing that. They’ve got nothing so far.”

“Yeah, but they’re looking at the actual money involved, right? I’d be looking at the computer systems at the time of the irregularities and seeing if something might have changed.”

“Oh fuck,” Jessica hissed. “O-okay, Kat. Do that. Right there. Oh yes, right there.”

“Boss?”

“I’ll send Vanessa over with the dates and info in ten minutes.” There was a long pause. “Make that fifteen.”

“Okay,” Kat said, hanging up. Suddenly, she knew that Vanessa had been between Jessica’s legs that entire time. Dejected, Kat rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She had nothing to do for fifteen minutes now. Probably longer. She was tempted to run to the bathroom and imagine Vanessa had been between her legs, but decided against it. Knowing her luck, Vanessa would walk into the bathroom just as Kat was calling out her name, and she’d get all upset like that Daniella Sarahyba girl had the last time Kat had dared to masturbate at work.

“I so need a girlfriend,” she grumbled, picking up her action figures. If she wasn’t going to get some, at least Sif and Jane Foster could…

* * * * * * * * * *

Once the secretary let JoAnna through she knocked on the door of Mr. Hart’s office, mentally telling herself that she could do this and praying that she hadn’t been misreading him all this time. Part of her almost hoped she had – he really was not her type, or possibly anybody’s (wife notwithstanding).

“C’mon in.”

Well, he sounded cheerful – that was a start. JoAnna entered, smile at the ready.

“Ummm, Mr. Hart…”

“So, what can I do for you?” the man asked, smiling back at her and demonstrating the kind of teeth normally associated with stereotyped Brits.

Suggestions involving dentists and Ultra-Brite rushed to the forefront of JoAnna’s mind, but she beat them back to widen her own smile as she walked towards him. “Actually, it’s more like what I can do for YOU,” she replied, lowering her voice in what Jason regarded as a sexy manner.

“Come again?” Mr. Hart asked, the expression in his eyes suggesting he had an idea what she was talking about.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” JoAnna continued. “You don’t do that to the other ones, except for that intern who got fired.”

“Well, she was pretty useless,” the boss admitted. “Beautiful, but useless…”

“And I haven’t forgotten the time you touched my behind,” the redhead added.

“That was an accident… you’re not going to sue, are you?” Mr. Hart swallowed. He could see it all – JoAnna leading him on, teasing him and then springing the lawyers on him…

“It was an accident, yes. But…” JoAnna winked. “But I wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t.”

There went his eyes, straight down. She knew they were checking out her legs, and she didn’t mind for once. Good thing she was wearing something that covered up her chest, or he’d have gone roaming her body even more than he was now.

“Miss Garcia…”

“Call me JoAnna. Or Jojo,”  she said.

“JoAnna… um, it’s very flattering, but…” Mr. Hart forced himself not to try and imagine JoAnna’s breasts under her top. “You’re in a relationship, and I’m a married man.”

“Yes, but I haven’t really been getting much out of it lately. Not the way I’d like,” JoAnna replied, sitting on the edge of his desk and casually crossing her legs, giving him some more upper thigh to check out. “And as for you… well, I’ve seen Mrs. Hart.”

Even though Mr. Hart wasn’t about to divorce his wife, he had to admit she did have a point; it had been a long time since they’d had sex without his summoning up somebody more attractive… somebody ACTUALLY attractive… to get him through it.

“Maybe we could both get what we want?” JoAnna asked, smiling coyly.

Mr. Hart pressed the button on his desk that automatically locked the office door, and returned the smile.

* * * * * * * * * *

Victoria wasn’t wearing those shorts Tammin loved. No, the young stripper wasn’t wearing any pants at all, and has lounging about the room in nothing but a bathrobe, her shapely legs up on the couch as she watched trashy daytime TV while eating a bowl of ice cream.

“Hey! You’re home early,” Victoria said with a bright smile as Tammin stepped in and ran her eyes over the younger girl.

“I’m just stopping in, but I have to have you.” Tammin stepped in, shucking her own pants without even closing the door behind her. Victoria’s eyes went wide, but she had just enough time to undo the sash on her robe before Tammin fell atop her, hungrily mauling the younger girl’s tits.

“Oh, TAMMIN!” Victoria cried out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Chastain had one eye on the screen she was checking and the other on the rest of the area, the better to bring up the window she was supposed to have open – the one showing all the programmes on JoAnna’s PC – the second anyone got within hovering distance. Even though JoAnna was in a cubicle of her own, and even though Operation Distraction was in full effect, you couldn’t be too careful.

What she was doing now was going back in time, about seven or eight months. Specifically, to the day of the big robbery; JoAnna had told her what Roselyn passed on about the little present Rhona had given her to put into the system, and it was her job to find out just what that little present was. Whatever it was, it can’t have been a standard virus or it would have been noticed by the safeguards in place at the time. Meaning Rhona had some damn good computer people in her corner, other than the Asian babe they’d left behind obviously.

“You really need to upgrade these things, people,” Jessica muttered as the search through the files took longer than it really should have. If she had time, she could debug it for JoAnna – the least she could do given what she was up to now.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Ugh, I can’t stand it,” Kat grumbled. Where the hell was Vanessa with that information? How long did it take Jessica to screw her secretary, anyway? Giving up, Kat pulled open her own access to the various banking systems in town and made sure she could access any of them she wanted. That took a couple of minutes, but getting there just made Kat all the more impatient.

She couldn’t wait any longer. Every time she stopped, she imagined Vanessa’s sexy little head in Jessica’s lap, and her own long span between lays seemed even longer. If those two were too busy tossing each other’s salad, Kat would just have to start without the information.

All she needed was a date and a bank to start with. Some odd event to look into.

Well, there hadn’t been any odder event than the whole SF8 robbery, and that was definitely before these hacks started. Seemed like as good a place to being as any.

With a few key strokes, Kat Dennings started to look back into the San Fran Union Bank’s records.

* * * * * * * * * *

“It’s too bad we’re at work now,” Mr. Hart told JoAnna with regret as he folded her into his arms. “We could go a lot farther if I didn’t have to worry about people seeing you walking funny.”

Thank goodness for small favours. JoAnna summoned up enough acting ability to convey a bit of sorrow as she traced a finger down his extremely well-padded front. “We can still have some fun though, right, Mr. Hart?” she asked, kissing his neck and unzipping his trousers.

“Call me Monty,” said Mr. Hart, returning the kiss.

JoAnna was distracted from his garlic breath by what she was holding – one drunken girls’ night out Jennifer had complained that it was always the cute guys who had cocks the size of needles and the gross ones who were hauling around rolling pins in their pants. Of course, the law of averages demanded there be exceptions, but Montgomery Hart wasn’t one of them; JoAnna didn’t have to pretend to be impressed by how hung he was.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Why couldn’t Lois be like that?” Mr. Hart replied, sounding pleased. “She’s like ‘Yeah, you’ve got a penis, so what?’”

“You certainly do, Mr. Ha- Monty.”

“Before you start, I’d really love something else from you.”

“Name it,” said JoAnna, kissing his stomach.

“Take off your clothes – I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to see you naked again…”

JoAnna almost told him she guaranteed he never would, but the longer she kept him occupied the more chance of his not going walkabout and seeing Jessica Chastain. As she rose and began to undress, she was just glad he wasn’t peeling them off; as each piece of clothing was removed she carefully placed it on a chair on the other side of the desk, happy to see his hands kept firmly away from his prick and noting with not a little pride that it was getting longer and harder the more of her body was revealed.

“Any complaints?” JoAnna asked, standing before her boss completely naked.

Mr. Hart answered that question by moving off the chair, kneeling down, gripping JoAnna’s soft buttocks and burying his face between her legs, tongue lapping at her box eagerly.

* * * * * * * * * *

Her pants and panties long gone, her shirt buttons opened up to reveal her tits, Tammin Sursok had absolutely no complaints about the orgasm Victoria Justice had just given her. Quite the opposite, in fact. She could’ve praised her lover until the sun went down.

Except she was already running late.

“I need to get going,” she lamented, sitting up.

Victoria smiled at her. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I could do so much more with just another five minutes”

“I’m already late…” Tammin protested weakly as Victoria eased a finger into the agent’s snatch.

“I’ll get coffee from the barista downstairs while you’re getting the dry cleaning,” Victoria offered as she withdrew her finger – and slid it up Tammin’s ass instead.

“Deal!” Tammin swooned.

* * * * * * * * * *

JoAnna had to admit that he knew his way around down there – he wasn’t going too fast or moving like he was nervous, it was just right. And she was liking how his hands felt on her ass as well; they weren’t as rough and sweaty as she had dreaded, and he wasn’t trying to poke a finger up her either (some women loved that, but JoAnna had always found that to be a bit of a distraction during the act). The guy was good… maybe a little too good. Stroking his bobbing head as he supped her snatch, JoAnna was afraid she might come sooner than she’d planned and that might be the end of it; feeling her cunt tingling, she realised she’d have to take her mind somewhere mentally to draw this out further.

“Oh, Jojo… I wish Lois tasted as good as you…” Mr. Hart sighed into her box.

JoAnna had seen his wife at the staff Christmas party; one of the cruder guys called her a stiffy killer, but that was doing the trick right now. She mentally pictured her grinning while riding her husband, the image battling the signals her ravished vagina were sending her. The boss’s mouth was too good to completely wipe out Lois, but it was delaying the effect. “Don’t stop, Monty…” she breathed, realising she was looking forward to returning the favour between his legs in a few minutes.

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled in between licks.

* * * * * * * * * *

It took a few minutes more than Kat had thought it would, but it wasn’t all that hard to get into the records for the SFUB on the day of the infamous heist. Kat couldn’t remember the exact time of day the heist happened, but she just began at the start of business and worked her way through slowly. There’d be a huge drop-off in transactions during the heist, and then there’d be nothing once the vault doors got blown off – that had cut the bank’s network connection rather thoroughly and what little was left was shut down immediately after the heist so the cops could look for evidence.

Just like she was doing now.

Kat cursed herself for not remembering exactly when the heist had happened. It’d been all over the news for six months, and was probably all over it again now that most of the girls had escaped prison.

Kat had just made it to noon when she suddenly realized something.

She wasn’t the only one looking at the SFUB records for that day.

“What the hell?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Chastain began scrolling through the system’s history, each date going further back as her eyes kept watch for anything out of the ordinary. So far everything looked work-related… no, no, no.

No… No… wait a minute.

“What have we here?” the redhead asked herself. There it was – a file with a name she hadn’t spotted before in amongst all the Union Bank paraphernalia… at 12:21 on the day of the SFUB heist, someone had added a file named “Dyson.” No mention of another file of that name before or since; it had just been uploaded onto the system and left there.

She clicked on that file, plugging a flashdrive into the side of the PC – she had a feeling she might want to check this one out off the premises, see if it had any kind of signature…

“You’ve got company,” a voice said quietly from the speakers.

Dammit. Someone else was checking the system. From outside the bank.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Dammit,” Jessica Biel snarled as she sat up from the floor, her naked body glistening with sweat and a little bit of girl cum. Beside her, Vanessa Hudgens didn’t move from where she lay, entwined in Jessica’s legs. “Where’s my secretary when I need her?”

“Doing far more important work than answering your phone,” Vanessa said lazily, tracing a finger over Jessica’s sopping wet snatch.

Jessica ignored that and reached for her phone, practically knocking it off the desk. “Hello?”

“Boss! We got a major issue here!” Kat Dennings said.

“I’m sorry, Kat. Vanessa hasn’t left yet. She got tangled up in something.” That earned her clit a nice little stroke from one of Vanessa’s fingers.

“What? No, listen to me! Someone’s hacking the San Fran Union Bank RIGHT NOW! And they’re looking through the records for the same day the SF8 robbed the joint!”

“FUCK!” Jessica snarled, standing up so fast she knocked Vanessa over. “Where are they?”

“In the bank itself!” Kat reported. “And boss, whoever it is, they’re good. They’re VERY good.”

“Grace Park?” Jessica wondered as she slid into her skirt – she’d come commando today, expecting to have Vanessa work her over like this.

“She’s still in the ICU at Remy Hadley,” Kat said. “I checked.”

“All right, I’ll get SOMEONE over there right now. Keep a good eye on them, Kat. Good work.” Jessica hung up before Kat could say anything else. She had to get a team assembled and rushed over to the SFUB right away. But there was no way a tactical team could deploy in anything less than twenty minutes, and by then the hacker would probably be gone. She needed someone closer.

“You sent Tammin out for your dry cleaning, right?” Vanessa asked casually, not bothering to cover her nudity as Jessica raced about the room, re-dressing.

“Now’s not the time to worry about dry cleaning,” Jessica snapped. “I gotta find SOMEONE close enough to get to the bank.”

“The dry cleaner’s three blocks away from the SFUB, and only two from Tammin’s new apartment,” Vanessa said. “In case she stopped there.”

Jessica looked down at the naked girl, so casually telling her exactly what she needed to hear. “You’re gorgeous AND brilliant.”

“I accept bribes,” Vanessa said as Jessica raced out the door. “Both cash and sexual favors!”

* * * * * * * * * *

JoAnna was relieved that Montgomery Hart was only thinking with his cock right now  – the one that JoAnna had inside her mouth, swallowing his length and trying to take in the odd snatch of air from what little space she had left. She had a horrible feeling his whole body was hairy, and was thankful that her hands were only clutching his pants and sparing her proper contact with his legs. His satisfied grunts punctuated JoAnna’s mouth action, her tongue teasing his rod as its plump head rested at the back of her mouth, ready to send its juice down her throat. That was the part JoAnna wasn’t looking forward to; she knew from her times with Jason that what people ate could affect what came out, but at least with Jason she liked the taste. This here was uncharted territory, and the last thing she wanted was to have garlic-flavoured love cream inside her…

His hands clamped down on her shoulders as he kept groaning, prick starting to move in preparation for the stream to come out. JoAnna slurped his meat, hoping it wouldn’t taste too bad…

“Jojo… lemme out…”

JoAnna instantly pulled her mouth away from him, just in time to receive a faceful of his cream.

As it splattered her she licked a little of it off her lips… garlic, as ever. But at least the storm of come she was receiving would end soon – well, she hoped it would end soon as Mr. Hart took his rod in hand and started to pump it out, sending it flying all over her lovely naked body, decorating her nipples and stomach. A couple of drops even landed on her trimmed pussy (good thing bukkake couldn’t get anyone pregnant, JoAnna thought).

The beatific look on the boss’s face suggested this was something else Lois didn’t like him doing. JoAnna opened her mouth wide and was rewarded with one last splat, landing right on the tongue – steeling herself, she swallowed it and beamed in return before rolling over.

“Got any left?” she asked as she presented her rump to the boss.

As Mr. Hart slapped his cock against her seat, she had a feeling she’d soon find out.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Okay, I REALLY have to go now,” Tammin said, actually standing up this time. Her ass was sore from Victoria’s rather aggressive fingering.

“Call in sick. We can fuck all afternoon,” Victoria offered.

“What would we do all night?”

“Make love instead?” Victoria offered.

Tammin groaned. It was SOOOO tempting, and all she was doing was menial stuff. She had enough sick leave accumulated…

Suddenly, her cell phone rang.

“Sursok,” she answered, seeing it was from work.

“BJ, detour to the SFUB right now!” Jessica said without preamble. “Someone inside the bank has hacked the system and is looking at stuff that happened during the SF8 robbery. You’re literally the closest agent we have!”

“Shit, I’m on it boss!”

“Hurry! Back-up’s twenty minutes out, even by helicopter.” With that, Biel hung up.

“I gotta go babe,” Tammin said, grabbing her purse from the counter.

“Tammin, babe, maybe-” Victoria started to say.

“No, sorry, I really gotta go,” Tammin cut her off.

“But-”

“I promise, later!” Tammin said, hauling open the door while fishing for her keys.

“You’re not wearing any pants!” Victoria called after her.

Tammin stopped dead and glared down at her naked legs and crotch. She quickly hopped back into the apartment, happy to see Victoria handing her the slacks she’d shed earlier.

* * * * * * * * * *

This was a switch if ever there was one – Lois actually preferred anal sex to the regular kind because she didn’t want kids (“Sure it hurts, but spitting out a brat hurts more”); Mr. Hart, on the other hand, wasn’t too crazy about it even if it was a nicely shaped behind attached to a cute redhead. But he didn’t have a problem with slipping it between JoAnna’s cheeks and sliding it back and forth instead of going straight inside; both boss and employee were getting something out of it, with the groans and cries filling the office. Yeah, it was a more elaborate way for him to masturbate, but JoAnna didn’t care…

With JoAnna’s ass clamping his dick in place, his hands were free to rub around her knelt-down body and fondle her hair, jerking against her harder each time. Both boss and employee started howling as Mr. Hart’s fingers made their way between JoAnna’s legs, feeling the juices of her snatch on his fingertips – for a moment he wondered if he could quickly jam it into her and give her the rest of the day off…

“YEAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” It wasn’t often that the man screamed louder than the woman in sex, but Mr. Hart definitely swamped JoAnna as his cock sprayed all over JoAnna’s ass, her creamy body shaking against his as she too finally came. They were in good sync; it was even less often that two parties orgasmed together.

As JoAnna let herself sink to the ground, Mr. Hart patted her behind and massaged the semen drops into her skin, wrapping up the moisturization process while he caught his breath.

“Gotta admit that wasn’t bad,” JoAnna said airily as she got up, headed to where her clothes were and started to dress. “Thanks…”

“Actually, I should be thanking you,” Mr. Hart replied. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t force me, don’t worry about it. Plus you’ve still got time before your meeting,” JoAnna added.

“I’m sure the staff liked not having me pop along and surprise them,” the boss said as he zipped his trousers. “They’re probably doing stuff I shouldn’t be seeing them do.”

“What, those guys? Never!” JoAnna lied.

* * * * * * * * * *

Not good, not good, not good! Whoever was watching Jessica Chastain was good. Too good. Every firewall and bounce-back program Jessica had in her arsenal wasn’t doing much good, and any minute now they’d spot what Jessica had – that little hidden Dyson file.

She needed five more minutes to get Dyson copied to her flash drive, but she wasn’t sure she could keep the other hacker out that long. And if someone knew she was here, then pretty quick someone would come looking for her…

* * * * * * * * *

Tammin Sursok wished she’d worn sneakers. As it was, her sensible flats were in one hand as she ran across the cold San Francisco sidewalks. Getting in her car or getting a cab to go three blocks would’ve just slowed her down. Running was the quickest way to get there at this time of day, and it was only two blocks or so.

She’d been at home, why didn’t she just grab new shoes? Two seconds! She had her running shoes right next to the damn door! Well, it was too late to go back now. The SFUB was in view now, less than a block away.

* * * * * * * * * *

“File copied.”

Jessica ripped the flash drive out of the computer with one hand while throwing one last firewall up with her other. This was cutting it too close. Why had she ever agreed to do this?

As she reached for a sticky note, she saw a picture of JoAnna and her fiance hugging under some trees, him behind her, JoAnna bent over so that her low-cut top showed so much ample cleavage.

“Oh, right,” Jessica grumbled. JoAnna was hot. So were the other girls mixed up in this. Jessica Chastain was in this for the pussy.

She scribbled a note. It was time to go.

“Excuse me, are you from tech services?”

The voice made Jessica jump, but she recovered quickly and turned to find an elderly woman looking at her hopefully. Her SFUB nametag called her Betty.

“Uh, yes,” Jessica said.

“I can’t seem to access my email. Can you help me?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Jessica said, getting up.

“Good. My friend Linda sent me the hottest pictures of some shirtless firemen she found online, and I want to thank her for them,” Betty said, leading Jessica away.

* * * * * * * * * *

“And what was all that about?” Jennifer Finnigan asked when JoAnna returned to her area.

“Oh, just a long chat about staff reviews,” she said airily.

Jennifer couldn’t help but notice that her hair was slightly mussed; she had her own ideas about what those “staff reviews” were, but she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her own – um – meetings in the past, after all.

As JoAnna took her place in front of the keyboard, safe in the knowledge that her PC was a bit faster now, she noticed that there was a folded sheet next to one of the speakers; she unfolded it and took in the contents “Saw something on the PC – might be what the girls were looking for. Keep you posted”- before crumpling it up and slipping it in a pocket for later disposal.

“YES!” JoAnna couldn’t help but cackle on seeing Jessica Chastain really had made it a little faster. That was a good cover if ever there was one.

Suddenly, a barefooted woman burst into the bank and held out an ID badge.

“FBI! Who’s in charge here?”

“Monty’s out back, getting cleaned up,” JoAnna said. “Can I help you?”

“Getting cleaned up from what?” Jennifer Finnigan asked.

“Get him here now. And lock down all your computers! You’ve got a hacker in building!”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Whoa, that’s more than shirtless,” Jessica said, getting into Betty’s email easily enough – her caps lock had been on. Now here were a couple of beefcake shots of fully naked firemen climbing all over their fire trucks, covered pretty much just in water. Right there was a giant black man with a giant black penis that he couldn’t hide behind even firefighting gear.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Betty said. “Want me to forward these to you for your own spank bank?”

“No thanks,” Jessica said, getting up. JoAnna had wisely not looked over at her, but this cute FBI chick with the lips made for cock sucking didn’t look like a fool. Jessica had to get out and get out fast…

“Okay everyone!” JoAnna called out. “We’re shutting the computers down! Everyone go gather in the employee lounge. We’re in FBI hands now!”

Jessica cursed under her breath, really hoping her firewalls had slowed down whoever that other hacker was long enough…

* * * * * * * * * *

“Gotcha!” Kat Dennings said, pumping her fist as the last firewall fell away, giving her complete access to whatever it was the hacker had been looking at. Quickly, she scanned the file names, seeing most of them were either deposits or withdrawals, and there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary here.

Then she spotted one marked simply “Dyson.”

“What’s this?” she asked, moving her mouse to click on the file. It opened up to reveal a wall of code – too much code! – before suddenly going completely blank.

“DAMNIT!” Kat swore. She knew right away what had happened – someone at the bank itself had locked the system down, cutting it off from the network. If she wanted to see Dyson now, she’d have to go to SFUB and hack their system in person.

Meanwhile, the real hacker was probably ten miles away.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ten feet from where Tammin Sursok was ushering bank employees into the back room, Jessica Chastain was just about ready to give up and try to tackle the FBI agent when someone grabbed her and pulled her into the women’s bathroom.

“Take your clothes off! Quick!”

“JoAnna, I’m flattered, but now’s not really the time,” Jessica said, her eyes unable to leave JoAnna’s skin as the bank employee stripped off her shirt.

“Take off your clothes and get into mine. And undo that ponytail – you need to look as close to me as possible.”

“What’s going on?” Jessica asked, getting undressed anyway.

“I told the FBI girl and Monty that I left my access code fob in my car. You’re going to dress up like me and sneak out.”

Jessica blinked – in part because JoAnna’s skin was flushed and still a little sweaty from her activities with her boss, but also in part because of how quick JoAnna had come up with this plan.

“Let’s do it,” Jessica said, yanking off her shirt.

Five minutes later, her hair tussled to look like JoAnna’s, wearing JoAnna’s blouse and nametag, Jessica slipped past the security guards and over to her car, and got exactly a hundred feet from the bank before the FBI tactical team came racing over the nearest hill.

JoAnna explained her change of clothes as having spilled an old coffee all over herself when she’d gone to the car, and with the video cameras down, and Betty’s memory fuzzy at best – she’d already forgotten how Jessica had gotten her into her email again – it would be weeks before anyone remembered that yes, there HAD been a second redhead in the bank, and no she hadn’t left before the FBI came storming in. Now all Jessica had to do was look over this Dyson file from the safety of her own computers.

Similarly, Kat Dennings arrived on site thirty minutes later and was allowed to restart the bank’s computer system. Twenty minutes after that, she had her own copy of “Dyson,” and was racing back to take a crack at it on HER computers.

Neither hacker realized just what she had in her hands until much, much later.

* * * * * * * * * *

“When can I see Megan?” Emma asked Hannah as she put on a change of clothing.

“When Mistress says you can,” the blonde replied regretfully. “She wants to talk to you first.”

“Same here,” Emma said grimly.

“Just try and relax; it’ll be over soon,” Hannah told her. “I’ll leave you with a little something to get you through till later.”

“I already took my medicine,” Emma pointed out.

Hannah lifted up her shirt, giving the invalid a look at her excellent breasts that was just long enough for a dazzling smile to break out. Returning Emma’s smile, Hannah lowered the shirt.

“When you’re all better I’ll let you do more than look,” she promised.

“Same here,” Emma said again, sounding this time as if she was looking forward to it.

“I’ll see you later,” Hannah said, backing out of the room. “My mistress doesn’t like it when I hang around too long.”

Emma propped herself up in bed, watching Hannah as she turned and left. The maid’s uniform she was wearing was notably snug around her butt; if it was Rhona’s idea, that meant there was something in her favour. Not much, but it was something.

“Miss Davis is good for what ails you, I believe.”

Hannah Davis’s ass was swept to the back of Emma’s mind for later as a lovely British brunette strode into the room, without even the slightest pretence to smile – it was all business with her.

“So, Emma Rose Roberts,” Rhona continued. “We meet again.”

“Trying to make me feel worse with your supervillain act?” the safecracker asked.

“Count yourself lucky Rosie isn’t here,” the brunette snapped as she went up to the side of Emma’s bed. “She does not like people being rude to me, and I would rather not have you hurt. At this time, anyway.”

“Obviously, otherwise me and Megan would be at the bottom of the San Francisco Bay now,” Emma replied. “So why’d you snatch us? You could just as easily have let us get caught.”

“I believe in the law of Michael Corleone – keep your friends close and your enemies closer. It would have been easier if you had been captured in the hospital, but then you would be out of my hands… and I would not be able to suggest a little arrangement.”

“What kind of ‘little arrangement’?” asked Emma.

“I know that you’re alone in the world, Miss Roberts. Your mother abandoned you as a child, and your father met his maker in a car accident…”

“Yeah yeah, bring out the violins.”

“If you interrupt me again, I will see to it that you are in no condition to do more than look at Hannah Davis,” Rhona said coldly.

She got Emma right where it would hurt. The safecracker drew an imaginary zip across her mouth.

“Your late father was adept at stealing artworks and safecracking – a case of like father, like daughter. And it occurs to me that a young woman with your skills could be useful to my organization; with your light fingers and my financial backing, it would be profitable for both of us.”

“Said the woman who left us to rot in prison,” Emma pointed out.

“All part of preparing for the future,” Rhona replied. “Plus I already did you a favour.”

“Since when?” asked Emma.

“Since the Countdown Communications affair.”

“Thanks for digging up that particular bad memory… but how’d that tie in with you?”

“The woman who got you off – Reiko Aylesworth. One of my best employees at Lychan Hollowman,” Rhona said with a smirk. “I kept my eye on you after that.“

“One of your… shit, you own a law firm as well?”

“Useful to have lawyers working for you, I find. Even if they have no idea who they’re working for. But I assure you Miss Aylesworth is fully aware who the primary partner is – in some cases, honesty is the best policy. Especially when the other party is barely on nodding terms with things like scruples.”

“Kill all the lawyers,” Emma said.

“Most of them, I admit. But moving on…” Rhona lifted up the blanket covering Emma, ignoring the safecracker’s narrowed eyes as she took a look at her legs, nodding approvingly.

“Purely gratuitous,” she said as she put the blanket back. “I do like looking at your body. You don’t have to say thank you.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Emma muttered.

“Now, I intend to expand my horizons somewhat. The Union Bank robbery was stage 1; in the next few days I’ll be holding a party here, with several would-be partners invited. If all goes well, and I believe it will, my move eastwards should be no problem. And as I said, you would be a very useful person to have in my employ.”

“What if I don’t want to be ‘in your employ’?”

“Ah,” Rhona smiled. “Then there will be a father-daughter reunion in your future.”

“He taught me a lot, but we were never really close,” Emma said. “But since you put it that way…”

“I don’t need a final answer right now,” Rhona told her. “Get some rest and think it over. I have a feeling you’ll make the right choice.”

With that, Rhona took her leave and Emma turned over as if about to get some sleep. Oh, she intended to make the right choice – being part of the Rhona Mitra machine could have its advantages. For starters, it would be a lot easier to kill that British cunt.

Just the thought of that made Emma Roberts feel a little better.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You wanted to see me?” Kat Dennings asked on coming into Jessica Biel’s office, looking very uneasy.

“Mm-hmm. Have a seat, Kat,” the director replied, smiling reassuringly.

Kat sat down, nervously twisting her hands.

“Relax, no one’s going to get fired. I’ve been noticing you today – you seem to have something on your mind besides work. And your action figures,” Jessica said knowingly.

“Is it that obvious?” asked Kat.

“It’s that obvious.”

Kat sighed. “That business with the bank yesterday…”

“You did get the information,” Jessica reminded her. “And it’s only a matter of time before we figure it out.”

“Yes, but I couldn’t stop whoever was on the other end,” Kat said ruefully. “Everything I threw up, they got past… I should’ve kept them out. I screw up everything… I don’t know why you keep trusting me.”

“We all make mistakes,” Jessica said.

“Tell me about it.”

“But you didn’t make any yesterday,” the boss added. “You’re a good worker, Kat. This could be a way in to finding who’s behind all those bank attacks…”

“Until I screw up next time. I can’t do anything properly… not even offduty,” Kat continued. “I bet it goes south with that date this weekend as well… sometimes I think my collection’s the only way I’ll ever have someone in my life…”

“Now that’s just silly,” Jessica said. “You’re smart, you’re gorgeous… you should have people falling over you. That idiot Ben caught sight of you that time you were wearing jeans and I hear he spent the whole night at the bar talking about your behind – about the only time he ever talked sense, I bet.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but I’m just a big clumsy girl…”

“You come with me,” Jessica interrupted briskly. “I need to have a word with you in private.”

“But we’re in your office,” Kat pointed out, confused.

“Just come…” And Jessica led Kat out of her office.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rebel Wilson was not built for speed, but she nearly hit the ceiling at an impressive rate of knots when Director Biel came marching into the janitorial area. Shit on toast, what was bringing the boss down here?

“Listen, I can explain—“ she started.

“Not a word, and take the rest of the day off,” Jessica interrupted.

Seeing Kat Dennings following in her wake, Rebel leaped to a conclusion and nodded, heading for the exit.

“AFTER we’re done,” the boss said. “You make sure we’re not interrupted for anything.”

The janitor sat down again and saluted. “You can count on me, ma’am.”

Kat swallowed as she was escorted away from Rebel; she was feeling like she could use some more people around, just for the support. And where were they going, anyway?

Jessica stopped by the supply closet, opened it and stepped inside, beckoning to Kat to follow as she switched the light on. Raising an eyebrow, Kat did as she was told, closing the door behind her and noticing Jessica nodding approvingly (not that she had a choice – the closet wasn’t tiny but there was no way she could avoid looking at the boss).

“Am I in trouble?” Kat asked meekly.

Jessica laughed a little, patting one of Kat’s shoulders. “That’s the last thing you’re in. You just need to have some confidence put in that hot body of yours.”

“You… you think I’m hot?”

Jessica stared at Kat; this girl must have had one hell of a cloistered upbringing, that or family who tore into her since puberty. There was something to be said for girls who didn’t know they were sexy, but this was something else. Gently holding onto Kat’s shoulders, she nodded.

“Someone like Agent Bell’s hot,” Kat said, looking down at her feet. “I’m just a big gap-toothed schlump.”

“You’re not a schlump,” Jessica told her. “You’re a smart, capable… very well-built woman.”

“Is this where you tell me to take off my glasses and shake my hair out?” Kat asked knowingly.

“You don’t need to take your glasses off,” Jessica said, slowly moving her hands onto Kat’s front. “You just have to see what we all see.”

She leaned in close and kissed the nape of Kat’s neck. “We see a butterfly about to come out of its shell.”

Rebel, having crept up to the closet door, made retching motions (but kept them soundless).

Kat felt Jessica’s hands resting on her top, gently stroking the chest. “Who said you were fat?” the boss asked.

“My sisters,” the analyst admitted. “They said I should be skinny like them.”

“Their loss,” Jessica replied, undoing a button of Kat’s top. And another. And then another, slowly revealing more and more of Kat Dennings’s cleavage, with her eyes widening more and more; even though the bra Kat was wearing was a perfect fit, there was still plenty of the creamy flesh spilling out.

“Take it off,” the boss whispered when Kat’s top was completely opened.

“But my shirt-“

“Not that,” Jessica interrupted.

Kat nervously reached around her back and unclasped the brassiere, letting her enormous breasts loose. Jessica’s mouth dropped open – those things were huge and beautiful, with the kind of swollen nipples she could suck on for days. The boss took a breast in each hand, loving how they were spilling out over the sides, and hefted each one as she shook her head… she couldn’t believe she was getting to play with ones this big.

“I’m SO jealous,” Jessica admitted, resting her head between Kat’s breasts as she continued to fondle them. “Maybe you should keep dressing like you always do… no one would get any work done if you started raiding Helen Flanagan’s wardrobe.”

Burying her face deep inside all that soft flesh, Jessica gently tweaked Kat’s nipples, listening to the other woman’s moan as her other hand slid down her back and under her dress; she wasn’t surprised to find Kat had some sizeable underwear underneath. “You’re so warm…” she mumbled into Kat’s chest.

“Um…” Kat was unable to think of anything to say as she felt Jessica’s hand resting on her plump cheeks. On the one hand, she was nervous – she hadn’t been in this kind of situation before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it. And yet, knowing the times – knowing ALL the times – she had glanced secretly at her boss in action, she wasn’t sure she didn’t want it. And now Jessica was putting both her hands up her dress…

“Turn around…” Jessica said, in between licks on Kat’s chest. “C’mon, don’t you want to make your boss happy?”

(Outside, Rebel Wilson was wishing she had X-ray vision around now.)

Kat Dennings did want to make her boss happy. Very much. She carefully turned around until her back was to Jessica, and gulped as the boss undid her dress. The voluminous fabric landed on the ground as Kat’s generous bottom, encased in what Jessica had to admit were granny panties, was revealed.

“I’ll do it,” Kat said quietly, and lowered the underwear herself. Jessica followed her with her eyes as she brought the panties down to her feet, staring at the booty on view.

“Wow…” Jessica breathed as Kat stretched back up. Her rump was round, big and soft, and the definition of pale and interesting. Whoever called her a big fat schlump should’ve been locked up – nothing wrong with having some meat on the bones, especially when it looked like that.

“You are a goddess, Kat. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“Uhh… thank you,” Kat managed to say, before yelping – Jessica had dropped to her knees and kissed her ass as if SHE was the one in charge.

“And a goddess needs some worshipping,” Jessica added, stroking Kat’s thighs before kissing it again. “My friend’ll love you on Saturday.”

“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of,” Kat admitted, moving a little less nervously under Jessica’s fingers. “If it goes a lot further… I might not know what to do. ‘Cause… because I’ve never actually been with anyone like this before.”

(“She’s still a virgin?” Rebel said in a low voice, before preening herself that a woman with her build had lost her cherry like years ago.)

“That’s all right,” Jessica said reassuringly (while not letting on how surprised she was; even allowing for Kat’s personality, she was amazed someone with a body like that underneath hadn’t at least tried it and been put off men after a disappointing first time, or something). “Happens to all of us.”

As she squished her breasts against the wall while pressing her hands on the surface, Kat flashed back to the time she’d found some magazines in her dad’s closet when she was 16; Mom bought lots of magazines with women in them as well, but in the ones Dad had the girls didn’t have anything on (or what they did have on they soon took off). She still had soft spots for Lindsey Vuolo and Christi Shake… anyway, Kat had hidden her secret likings under her geek façade, but one good thing came from it – no one EXPECTED her to be interested in boys. So she could go to see “Thor” and talk about it with her colleagues without fear of anyone asking who she preferred, Hemsworth or Hiddleston (Portman. It was always Portman. She was so jealous of the girl who played Darcy getting to spend most of her screen time standing next to her…).

And now here was one of her crush objects gently kneading Kat’s ass as Jessica moved her head down, separating the flesh to get access to what was between her legs. Kat quivered in anticipation; Jessica Biel’s tongue had found her slit. It wasn’t like she was obsessed with anyone ever going down there – Kat had never really dreaded becoming a 40-year-old virgin or anything -  but this was a whole world away from  writing slash fiction. She felt the tip of Jessica’s tongue delicately touching her box, dabbing on her clit and slowly moving between the lips. Oh wow… Kat swallowed as she enjoyed the boss tasting her. So much better than a finger or a cucumber.

The slow and steady pace of Jessica’s mouth started to increase, and though Kat didn’t do any gambling outside of the odd scratchcard she was willing to bet Jessica was liking it down below. It certainly sounded like it. Combined with how Jessica’s hands were stroking as much of her body as they could reach, she was feeling better than she had felt in ever.

Whoa… now this was something she’d never felt before. She was tingling, and not in a Spider-Sense way either – her whole body was steaming up, being filled with energy and fire starting from her crotch. Kat squealed as Jessica’s tongue lit on one particular spot – she gritted her teeth to try and stop from shouting, pressing her body against the wall as Jessica’s mouth loved her harder, feeling her pussy soaking from the treatment it was getting.

“Whoo… whoa… Yes… yesyesyesyesyesyeeeaaaaaaAAAGGGHHHHH!!!” She couldn’t resist any longer, shaking like a leaf and finding it hard to catch her breath. “YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! YESYESYESYESYESBOSS!!!!”

(Thrusting a hand in and out of her opened jeans and listening, Rebel flashed back to when Ben had fucked her; he hadn’t made her howl nearly as much.)

Holding the quaking woman’s legs, Jessica gave Kat’s pussy one final lick before she moved back, keeping her hands on her body as she got up. Jessica kept contact even as Kat turned around, and the boss felt herself moistening more on getting a full-frontal shot of Miss Dennings for the few seconds before the glowing and grateful Kat embraced her, kissing her repeatedly as if a load had been taken from her shoulders. The director couldn’t resist pulling her closer, the better to feel Kat’s lactobombs resting on her own sizeable but suddenly tiny in comparison jugs. (Although for once she didn’t mind feeling the way Agent Bell probably did 24/7.)

Neither of them noticed the door to the closet quietly opening a crack and Rebel Wilson looking inside; she was rewarded by a full-length sight of boss and employee kissing while in each other’s arms, Jessica Biel’s fingers caressing Kat Dennings’s ass, as Kat rested her head on Jessica’s chest. Wank fodder for the evening secured, Rebel closed the door – if they had spotted her she’d have been fired, but it was worth it.

“Thank you…” Kat smiled, glancing up at the boss. “I’m glad it was you.”

“I should be thanking you,” Jessica replied. “You taste great.”

“We’d better get back,” Kat giggled.

“I’m the boss,” Jessica said, stroking the other woman’s thick brown tresses. “They can wait.”

“You know, I thought it would be…”

“Better?” asked Jessica.

“Worse,” Kat admitted. “I heard some girls say they had it bad the first time…”

“Now I should REALLY thank you,” Jessica laughed. “Out with it.”

“With what?” asked Kat.

“I can tell you’ve still got something to say…”

“Well, I’ve always wondered what a… well, you know… tastes like,” Kat explained. “And I’ve always imagined you’d be the first to show me.”

“On your knees, Kat,” Jessica smiled. “Like I said, they can wait…”

* * * * * * * * * *

Time was heavy on the hands of the group; progress was basically at a standstill. They still had no idea about how to get Megan and Emma back, the longer they were out of the loop the worse it would be for them… and going out was out of the question. So they were thanking the heavens for daytime TV, with the gang currently tuning in to “Jeopardy!” and having a high old time yelling the right questions at the screen.

Except for Hayden. Since “Jeopardy!” was on Channel 7, she just couldn’t bring herself to watch right now; she associated Channel 7 with Ashley Benson, and it just made her far too killy to tune into the thing, even when a show was running that she had absolutely nothing to do with. So while the others were tuning in to Trebek, the ex-reporter was in the room she shared with Megan (or would have shared if she was still there), leafing through one of the magazines JoAnna and Troian had brought on their last visit and wishing aliens could arrive from another planet and offer a universal cure for illness in exchange for Courtney Stodden and the Real Housewives Of Whatever (which would be a fair swap).

The door was knocked on, taking Hayden away from reality TV show gossip. “C’mon in!” she called.

“You all right, Hayd?” asked Roselyn, poking her head through the opened gap.

“About the same as ever in this setup,” the blonde sighed.

“Blake wants a word with you,” the leader said. “She’s in her and Shay’s room.”

“Well, I guess Lisa Vanderpump can wait,” Hayden replied, tossing the magazine aside and getting off her bed. “Enjoy the rest of the games.”

“I will,” Roselyn assured her. “Mainly because I’m winning.”

With the sound of quiz show noise behind her, Hayden knocked on the door of Blake and Shay’s place (it hadn’t escaped her notice that they had basically the same living arrangements they’d had in Remy Hadley). What Blake wanted to see her about she had no idea, but at least it was a change from basically doing nothing.

“So what’s up?” Hayden asked when Blake opened the door.

“I wanted to talk to you,” the tall blonde replied. “Inside – I don’t want the others to hear this.”

Hayden’s interest rose a few levels. Something secretive? Did she have something she had to get off her chest? Wondering what it was, Hayden stepped inside.

Shutting the door, Blake turned to face her with a slightly nervous look on her lovely face. “It’s about… about Remy Hadley,” she began.

“Still can’t get used to being out of there, huh?” Hayden asked sympathetically. “Worried they might catch us?”

“Yes, but that’s not it,” Blake said. “I’ve got something for you.”

Hayden was having a little trouble processing this – what on Earth could the woman have brought from the prison for her? She opened her mouth to ask what Blake meant… and then kept it open as she watched Blake undo her dress and let it drop to the ground around her feet, revealing her completely naked body.

“Me,” Blake added quietly.

Hayden had a LOT of trouble processing this. Blake Lively, the one who was so straight she should’ve looked like a stick, taking her clothes off for one of the team? Had she caught what Emma had?

“…why?” the small blonde asked, telling herself to keep her eyes focused on Blake’s face.

“Because I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” the tall blonde replied, stepping out of the dress around her feet and coming closer to Hayden. “I’ve thought about it every day since we broke out. And every night.”

“But-“

“But nothing,” Blake interrupted. “You saved my life, Hayden. And this is the only way I can pay you back.”

She opened her arms. “I’m yours, any time you want it. Starting now.”

Hayden was a mess of emotions. On the one hand, she genuinely felt Blake didn’t owe her for that or anything – it had simply been one human being saving another, the way Blake had stopped that woman from crushing her like an empty bag of Doritos during the escape. On the other hand, ever since that time escaping from the bank when she’d checked out Blake teetering out the back of the van she’d wanted her, the way the others had but none of whom had managed it (well, except for Emma – and Shay, who’d told the others about her nocturnal explorations with Blake in their cell and made them promise never to let Miss Lively know).  And now here was this blonde goddess smiling down at her…

Her busted arm was less of a barrier than Hayden had feared – she may have undressed faster, but she didn’t know when. When she was nude, Blake knelt down so they could be at the same eye level, and Hayden rested her hands on Blake’s shoulders before coming in for a kiss.

The two blondes’s lips met, Hayden unable to keep her tongue from slipping into Blake’s mouth. Holy shit, even her TEETH were perfect… it lasted only for a few moments, but for Hayden it was like taking a shortcut to paradise.

“Wow,” the tiny blonde whispered, kissing Blake again.

“You kiss better than Emma does,” the tall blonde said in an almost bashful tone, starting to bring her hands up to touch Hayden’s body. Blake’s hands were a little tentative as they touched the other woman, as if they weren’t sure where to go.

“It’s all right,” Hayden said assuringly. “Everyone’s had a first time.”

Even though Blake had lost her cherry at an age when you weren’t supposed to, she knew exactly what Hayden meant. She rested her hands on Hayden’s breasts, slowly stroking them while the other blonde slid the fingers of her good hand down Blake’s front; a beatific smile spread across Hayden’s face as she spread her fingers into Blake’s pussy – ooooh, yes. If it had been winter, this would’ve warmed her up no trouble. Hayden took Blake’s clit between thumb and index finger, gently rolling it in between them as Blake kissed the nape of her neck before nuzzling on her rack, tasting each nipple and licking the tip.

Hayden let Blake’s button go as the woman began to move down her body, her hands sliding down Hayden’s back and spreading over her behind. It was a strange experience for Blake – she’d gotten used to expecting buttocks to have some kind of hair on them, or at least the odd pimple or two. But this was a genuinely smooth and unblemished set; she finally had a chance to tell someone what guys had been telling her since puberty set in.

Except she didn’t, because she had Hayden Panettiere’s pussy in front of her eyes. She didn’t care if she herself had one of those, this was entering (figuratively and literally) uncharted territory.

“Hey…”

Blake looked up to see Hayden looking down on her tenderly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hayden told her with a reassuring smile.

Swallowing her nerves, Blake smiled back and flicked her tongue out. She told herself she could do this – this wasn’t like it was with Emma Roberts. This time she had made the first move, and she did want to make Hayden happy.

With her eyes closed, Blake Lively’s tongue made contact with another woman’s privates for the first time in her life; the tip moved tentatively along Hayden’s slot. Blake had seen Hayden naked before in the showers at Remy Hadley, but not this close up – how could someone so tiny have such a big and plump pussy? No wonder the girl was so outgoing; she could probably accommodate a pretty big penis with what she had…

Blake mentally slapped herself as her tongue tasted Hayden’s love button. A penis was the LAST thing this one would put inside her; Hayden would probably feel as strange sucking on one as Blake herself felt rolling the clit near her mouth. It was… unusual. Not gross, really, but knowing that this was an entrance to a place guys all over the world dreamed of getting into meant that Blake was, for once, in the man’s position. And if a lot of them loved it, then she guessed she herself could give it a try.

As her hands caressed Hayden’s butt, she imagined she was on the other end; Blake had sucked plenty of cocks but she had also eaten plenty of ass and never gotten a complaint. Her mouth started to taste Hayden, her tongue moving deep inside her and her lips taking time to kiss whatever parts of Hayden’s snatch she could.

“Mmmmm… Yesss…. “ Hayden moaned, her hands stroking Blake’s head. “Blake, you’re a natural… you feel so… good…”

Blake continued to lick inside Hayden, losing more and more of her inhibition as she progressed. Hayden did taste better than she had thought she would – maybe it was kind of sushi-like, but Blake LOVED sushi. It wasn’t anything like a man’s asshole… or a woman’s, as Blake was finding with her  index fingers sliding up Hayden’s tight little back passage.

Nope, nothing like it. For a start, she’d have a cock on the other side to stroke as she tasted the tunnel. But there were some things that were similar – for a start, Hayden was begging her never to stop because she loved it. The blonde pixie was trembling as her warm pussy began to moisten under Blake’s mouth; part of her was almost beginning to like it. To the extent that Blake’s own pussy was beginning to drip…

Blake whipped her head back as she came to herself for a moment, and rolled Hayden onto her front. The other blonde was still steaming from Blake’s mouth, and Hayden was about to ask what was wrong before she felt Blake’s head pressing against her asshole and resuming the munch, putting more enthusiasm into it this time – whatever objections were about to come out of Hayden’s mouth vanished as she began to receive the best rim job she had ever had in her life. (Other than Troian, obviously.)

Hayden didn’t demand mouth-to-ass as a matter of course, but whenever Troian did it to her it was something pretty nice. This girl, however… wow, the finger action plus the tongue showed that Blake could do this at the Olympics and bring home gold every time. Relishing every lick and probe, Hayden relaxed as she let another fantasy play out – the one where Blake discovered what side she really played for…

This was incredible… as Hayden’s heart began to beat faster, she realised that Blake wasn’t going back and forth between quim and back door the way Troian had done – it was purely anal all the way. Hayden started to wail in delight as Blake Lively’s mouth finished its work, screaming Blake’s name as her ass sent currents of joy throughout her body; now there was only one thought on her mind… payback, and for once not in the sense of Ashley Benson or Rhona Mitra.

As Blake kissed each of Hayden Panettiere’s rounded buttocks to finish, the glowing small blonde looked over her shoulder back at her lover. “My turn,” she sighed, and was rewarded with Blake moving backwards and down onto the floor, her legs spread apart and waiting.

Hayden placed her head between Blake’s breasts, nuzzling each one and rubbing herself against them; she was SO envious of girls with racks like these (when this was all over she was going to look into getting something like that for herself). Mmmm, she’d have been happy to just stay there all day and all night… but her lower part was brushing against Blake’s warm, well-kept snatch. Kissing those excellent boobs one last time, Hayden headed down between the woman’s legs, enjoying every little gasp from Blake with each touch and kiss.

The moment Hayden’s tongue slipped into Blake’s box, she wanted to come; her pussy was like tasting heaven. The best of the whole gang, no question; Hayden’s mouth greedily munched on Blake, moving through each golden bit of what she had as she flashed back to the escape from the bank… watching Blake leaning out of the back of the van, Hayden had imagined what it would be like to have someone like that. She thanked fate that she was getting to find out, burrowing deeper inside Blake and feeling how warm and moist she was. Enjoying how Blake’s body was thrashing about under her mouth, Hayden supped further on the sunshine that was her pussy.

“Oh yeah… oh that’s right… yessssYESYESYES!!!!!!!” Blake was feeling better with each dab of Hayden’s tongue, being propelled to greater and greatest heights of ecstasy and rubbing herself with delight. “YESSSSSSSSS!!! FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOW!!!!”

Then as she orgasmed over Hayden’s mouth, Blake screamed a name. But it wasn’t Hayden’s. It wasn’t even another unisex name like Hayden or Blake.

Blake Lively’s body was shaking and glowing with what Hayden had done, and Hayden knew she tasted too good for the experience to be ruined, but… Hayden slowly raised her head from between Blake’s legs and looked up at her face, seeing a contrite, apologetic look on it.

“Was he your first?” Hayden asked calmly.

“He wasn’t my FIRST first, but he was the first man,” Blake admitted as the tiny blonde slid back up her body. “I did try to blot them out, I really did… but… that’s why I went the back way just now. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a cute ass… for a girl. It’s just that…”

“It’s just you like what’s on the other side more if it’s a guy?” Hayden finished.

Blake nodded. “You’re not the first lady who’s come on to me…”

“Emma?”

“She wasn’t the first either. But you’re the first one I actually let do it,” the crestfallen Blake said, taking Hayden in her arms. “I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what? For making me come? For not being able to change who you are?” Hayden held Blake with her better arm and kissed her cheek. “You’re not the first straight I’ve tried it with – I’ve had exactly ONE girl who thought she liked boys come out after being with me. I’d have been shocked if you swapped after this. Flattered,” she added with a little laugh, “but shocked.”

“I’m still yours for as long as we’re stuck here,” Blake told her.

“Thanks, but I don’t want you to be my concubine.”

“I just want to look out for you, is all.”

“You got a deal,” Hayden smiled. “One more kiss for good luck?”

“Sure,” Blake smiled back, as their lips met.

“Oh, and Hayden…”

“Yeah?”

“If I DID like girls,” Blake said almost shyly, “I’d like you.”

For the first time since Troian Bellisario had told her she loved her, Hayden Panettiere blushed.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Tough break about Miss Sunshine,” sports reporter Isla Fisher told Ashley Benson as they stood by their lockers.

Miss Sunshine was the staff’s nickname for Alison Brie’s nickname, partly because she did the weather but mostly because she was guaranteed to be cheerful even if World War III was a breaking story. So when word got around about what had happened to her, everyone from the station manager to the janitor was sympathetic.

“Yeah, I heard about her account,” Ashley replied.

“Getting closer to home… and still a way to go till payday,” the Australian redhead continued. “I’d hate to be in her shoes now.”

Ashley nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. It had been elsewhere even when she’d magnaminously given Alison some money to tide her over (“Wow, thanks – I swear I’ll pay you guys back!” Alison had gushed) – it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it, plus it made her look good.

Her mind was on what was in her locker – Rhona’s little gift went everywhere with her, because you never could tell when it would be time to use it. But she had a feeling it would be soon.

* * * * * * * * * *

Since Kate Mara was stuck with doing the late news on Channel 5 more often than not, Victor had gotten used to her coming in way past bedtime o’clock. But he still liked to stay up for her when he could; she was lovely enough that he could face up to not being a night person.

“How’s my chunky monkey?” Kate asked cheerfully on letting herself into the place.

“Still wishing you’d just call him Victor… Red.”

“You know I hate that name,” Kate pouted.

“And…?” Victor let the point hang.

“Fine,” Kate mock-grumbled, embracing Victor before they kissed. “Just glad to see a friendly face.”

“Rough day, huh?”

“Yeah… bad news.” Kate paused. “That guy who’s cleaning out bank accounts…”

“He got you?” Victor winced. He’d hoped that this plague wouldn’t get around to either of them – it was a big city, and they weren’t even SFUB customers. But if this was spreading that fast… maybe it might be time to look into the Bank of Mattress. Ironically, Channel  5 had just done their own story on the wave of unintended withdrawals (fronted by Kate, yet).

“I got in touch with the cops, but they just sounded like it was another one on the pile,” Kate added.

“I swear, if I ever find whoever’s doing this… how much do you need till Friday?”

“It’s only Wednesday; I’ve got enough on me,” Kate assured Victor with a laugh. “You don’t have to keep paying me back for that date.”

That date had been the first one they’d been on after a date of the blind variety. It had been how Kate and Victor had met; she’d greeted him when he turned up at her house for a blind date – with her sister Rooney, who she was still living with at the time. In a way, the date had worked out because Rooney and Victor hit it off – but as friends, and not the kind that had benefits either.

It had been clear from the beginning that it would never take, thanks to some subtle hints… like how Victor kept surreptitiously glancing at Kate while talking to Rooney. Kate had decided to give her sister a chance to level the playing field by leaving them alone before they left, but the damage had been done; the next time he’d called it was to ask Kate out. And the next time, which was the time Victor had been caught short and Kate had offered to pay the balance. The time after that Kate had called to ask HIM out, and things had carried on from there.

“Maybe they’ll hit Benson,” Victor suggested.

“Wishful thinking,” Kate sighed. “Sometimes I think someone’s looking out for her.”

“The devil takes care of his own.”

“You know it,” Kate agreed, kissing him. “Wanna help me take my mind off it?”

“Well, I’ve had a bad day as well,” Victor replied, kissing back as they headed down the corridor. “Mindy Kaling came on to me again… went all ‘The Big Lebowski’ on me.”

“She said she’d suck your cock for a thousand dollars?!” Kate said, pushing Victor into the bedroom. “The nerve… I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“Because I know you do it better than she could?” Victor chuckled, letting Kate shove him onto their bed.

Kate was tempted to ask Victor how he knew she gave better head than Mindy, before she saw the twinkle in his eye as he started to undress. The couple’s clothes were soon all over the room, both thinking about nothing but each other’s naked bodies; Victor didn’t know if Kate had been waiting for this moment all day but he sure had been.

Even if Mindy did succeed in getting him in bed, he knew he’d only ever have Kate’s adorable face and trim body on his mind. And there Kate was, clutching his thighs on the edge of the bed as she bent her head forward and down; the tension and stress of the day was soon melting away as Kate gorged herself on his rod, swallowing the brown length and teasing out the first streams of semen. Kate took quick snatches for breath without breaking the rhythm, glancing up at him from time to time; looking into her big eyes as she sucked just made it even better, and they both knew it.

Victor lay back and relished Kate’s soft lips tasting him, her fingers dandling his sacs as he tried to keep the inevitable from happening right now. Not when Kate had so much more to give him; he pulled on his girlfriend’s hair, their sign that he wanted her to stop. His ego got a huge boost when he felt her mouth take a long, long time to move up and off his cock, as if she didn’t want to stop (not that he wanted her to stop either).

Kate slithered up Victor’s body, letting him enjoy the way her breasts swayed as she moved; yeah, she wasn’t massively endowed but she made what she had count. He moved his hands along her body as she came up him, finding her sweet little ass and cupping it tightly as she moved in for another kiss. Their tongues and lips met, bodies exchanging heat as they rolled over on their bed.

“I bet Ashley Benson got where she is on her back,” Victor smirked as Kate licked his chest.

“Make you a deal,” his girlfriend replied. “You stop talking about the demon blonde from hell while we’re in bed, and tomorrow night you get to put that monster down there up my butt.”

“It’s not THAT big,” Victor laughed as he nuzzled her neck. “But it’s a deal.”

Kate Mara’s ass wasn’t that big either, and he hadn’t actually been that keen on anal sex before they met, so quite why he’d been so happy to core her back door whenever she indicated she was up for it (which wasn’t that often) he wasn’t sure. But her butt felt so good. So did her legs, which she had wrapped around his waist pulling him in tighter. And so did her breasts, which he greedily tasted while rubbing her sides; with each kiss and caress he was forgetting more about quarrels and come-ons at work.

Soon there was nothing on his mind but Kate and how she made him feel. Victor counted his blessings again as he thrusted in and out of his girlfriend bucking beneath him, two lovers in contrast (him dark and huge, her pale and tiny) but in perfect harmony. His hands roamed her long red hair as he kissed her over and over, relishing her cunt around his rod – tight, snug, incredibly warm…

The bed started to creak as it always did when they got together on it, but neither party cared a whit about its unwanted addition. All Victor wanted was to listen to Kate’s increasing screams as he pumped her harder, her cries blending with his own, both loudly swearing how fucking much they loved this and each other. Kate’s jiggling breasts slammed against Victor’s chest as she howled, feeling a thick stream flooding her cunt for what seemed like ages…

Kate Mara couldn’t help but smile. After what had happened today, she had finally gotten a deposit.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Give me some good news,” Jessica sighed as Kristen Bell took her seat in the director’s office.

“There’s a disruption in the shields around the prison,” cracked the agent.

Jessica stared at her.

“Sorry…  it’s just what you said was a line from a ‘Star Trek: Voyager’ episode,” laughed Kristen. “Big, big fan. Even of ‘Enterprise.’”

“Well, at least I know you’re not a Trekkie,” Jessica mused. “I heard once that Trekkers wonder what sex is like in zero gravity and Trekkies-“

“-wonder what sex is like, I know,” Kristen rudely interrupted her superior officer. “Anyway, I don’t know if it’s GOOD news, but it’s interesting. We looked into Remy Hadley’s top brass, and it turns out Warden Winslet used to be a pretty naughty girl.”

“Sounds like she’d fit in perfectly around here.”

“Except for Kat Dennings,” Kristen laughed.

“Yes. But you were saying?” asked the boss.

“Well, she had a few run-ins with the law when she was younger,” Kristen continued. “Nothing major, but quite a few before she turned to the side of law and order. Funny how she got the job as well – the other main candidate topped Kate on just about every count; about the only thing she couldn’t do was walk on water. Or fly.”

“What do you mean, or fly?”

“Just before the board made their choice, the golden girl jumped off the Golden Gate,” Kristen explained. “No sign of any foul play, and no suicide note or anything… she just took a leap, looks like.”

“Tragic. And convenient,” Jessica said.

“Speaking of convenient, guess who just happens to be the warden’s lawyers?” asked Kristen. “Our old friends at Lychan Hollowman.”

“Emma Roberts, the Spectacular, Remy Hadley… interesting how that name keeps popping up,” Jessica agreed.  “How do you feel about taking another helicopter ride?”

“Bring it on,” said the agent. “Bring it on.”

* * * * * * * * * *

One good thing about Alicia Keys’s car being in the shop for repairs; there was no chance of anybody seeing it parked outside the hideout.

One fuckton of bad things about Alicia Keys’s car being in the shop for repairs; she had to take a bunch of trains across San Francisco to get there, all with Joshua in tow because she couldn’t get her hands on a babysitter. And she’d have to change him soon to boot. Carrying Joshua in her strong right arm and her supplies with her left hand, the woman made her way to the door and carefully kicked the special knock.

No answer.

Alicia drew back her foot to try it again, and the door opened.

“OW!”

“Sorry…” Alicia winced in embarrassment, Olivia Wilde in pain. That kick had hurt.

“I was in a rush to get the door and I tripped,” the black-haired beauty told the other black-haired beauty as Alicia and Joshua entered. “So you’re Roselyn’s true love?”

“Guilty as charged – oh, sorry.” This wasn’t Alicia’s day; now she’d gone and said the wrong thing.

“It’s all right,” Olivia assured her, taking Alicia’s bag as they went back to the others. “You weren’t on the jury.”

Alicia cuddled Joshua in both hands, feeling him squirming against her chest as she saw the ladies seated in the front room. The women were in a circle discussing their next moves, and Roselyn had her back to the newcomer – which was just how Alicia wanted it, the better to creep up behind her while shaking her head at Shay spotting her first and about to say hi.

“So we’re going to have to-“ Roselyn had started, before feeling a little hand brushing her hair.

“Mommy,” Joshua gurgled, and Roselyn’s face lit up like a fireworks display.

“JOSHUA!” With a cry of joy, Roselyn scooped her son into her arms, cooing and laughing in delight. It had been so long since she’d been with him outside an institution – so very long. “Mommy missed you SO much…”

“Oh, he’s so CUTE!” Blake cried next to her.

“I thought you said you weren’t the mothering kind,” Roselyn laughed.

“He’s a guy, she’s Blake, you work it out,” Shay chuckled, looking warmly at the infant as Olivia and Hayden made it unanimous, forgetting their troubles for a moment.

“It won’t be long now,” Roselyn told Joshua, wondering if the enormous smile he was sporting had something to do with so many gorgeous women making a fuss over him.

“No, it won’t,” Alicia agreed, turning her smile onto Roselyn.

* * * * * * * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, the six women had become four – Alicia and Roselyn had disappeared to another room, leaving Joshua in the capable hands of Blake Lively, Shay Mitchell, Hayden Panettiere and Olivia Wilde.

“So how do we keep the kid busy till they’re finished?” Shay asked.

“Maybe we could sing to him?” Hayden suggested.

“It’s always singing with you, isn’t it?” Olivia said. “Anyway, I can’t sing for shit.”

“Like that ever stopped Avril Lavigne,” Blake replied.

“Excuse me?!” Shay snapped.

“Chill, guys…” Olivia told them before Lavigne’s biggest fan could take action. “Maybe we could get him something to eat.”

“We haven’t got any baby food in there,” Hayden pointed out. “I’ll go and check Alicia’s-“

“WAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

Shay winced – toddlers crying went through her like a knife. Olivia looked like she desperately wanted to be somewhere else as well, and Hayden sped up her search of Alicia’s supplies. When it came to noisy kids, every second counted…  at least the kid didn’t sound like he needed to have his diaper changed. That, none of them was looking forward to doing. Going up against the cops and Mitra they could handle, but they could not put up with the literal kind of shit.

“Relax, ladies,” Blake said briskly as she unbuttoned her top. “I got this.”

Olivia and Shay’s attention went from Joshua to Blake as the moled blonde let out a full breast with one hand and scooped up the howling tot, resting him on her chest with his mouth near her nipple. The crying stopped like a tap had been turned off, the boy drawing Blake’s pokie between his lips and drinking her milk. He gurgled happily in her arms, his hands touching her chest as if she was his first love.

“I may not want kids of my own but I’ve done my share of babysitting,” Blake explained as Hayden, noticing the sudden calm, came back from the kitchen and watched the scene, mixing being impressed with knowing exactly how Joshua felt.

“What kind of babysitter were YOU?” asked Olivia.

“A very effective one, thank you very much,” Blake replied, cuddling Joshua as he suckled at her nipple before she started to take him on a stroll around the room. “Drink up, kid…”

“Why didn’t either of you think of that?” Hayden asked.

Shay folded her arms tightly, as Olivia indicated her less-than-ample rack.

“Oh.”

* * * * * * * * * *

In the next room it was a case of like mother, like son; Roselyn Sanchez had one of Alicia Keys’s nipples in her mouth as she tasted her lover’s breast, eagerly fondling the other nipple. No matter how long it went between time with Alicia, it was always too damn long.

“I should be sucking on yours,” Alicia gasped, rubbing Roselyn’s chest. “Perkier than mine any day.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Roselyn laughed. As Roselyn lapped on Alicia, part of her reflected on how in a way she’d simply swapped one prison for another – limited time in Remy Hadley, limited time in this building… journeying down to kiss Alicia’s stomach, she just wanted to be able to be with her woman for as long as she wanted. Then she put the burgeoning pity party out of her head as she tongued Alicia’s sexy little bellybutton – as long as Alicia Keys was here she was going to make every second count. The nude biracial woman let out a loud moan as the Cuban’s tongue moved down her body to her snatch; Roselyn was hungry, and Alicia was there for the feasting.

Alicia looked down to see the top of Roselyn’s head bobbing away, her tongue moving like lightning as her hands fondled Alicia’s satiny thighs. Alicia knew Roselyn had had “company” during their six months apart, while she herself had contented herself with masturbatory aids ranging from vibrators to Kayden Kross films when not visiting the prison – but she wasn’t the kind to take the moral high ground on that; if it had been vice versa Alicia Keys wasn’t sure how long she’d have been able to hold out. She gasped again as Roselyn thrust her tongue deep inside her sex, counting down the seconds until they could switch places and she’d be between her partner’s long limbs.

Maybe Roselyn was moving faster than she normally did because she knew they didn’t have too much time to waste – but she didn’t let her pace reduce the quality of her work. Alicia shook on the bed as she felt Roselyn’s mouth loving her, sending her to the heights sooner than she’d planned…

“Fast worker,” Shay commented as Alicia’s screams of passion burst from the bedroom, before glancing at Joshua, now fast asleep in Blake’s arms with a contented look on his face and a little milk still on his lips.

“How come he didn’t wake up?” Hayden asked.

“The way those two keep looking at each other? He’s probably used to it,” Olivia chuckled.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alicia was next to Roselyn as the gang gathered in the front room, the others sitting on the floor or on chairs with Joshua curled up on the sofa still asleep, a smile on his face all the while.

“Wonder what my little man’s dreaming of?” Roselyn said.

“I might have some idea…” Hayden laughed, eyeing Blake.

“So what’s the state of play?” Alicia asked.

“We’re going after Monica Bellucci,” Shay told her. “There’s a good chance she’ll be able to get hold of Rhona’s home address for us, but we’ve gotta get Monica after hours.”

“And we’ve only got two candidates for the job,” Olivia added.

“I could do it,” Alicia offered.

“NO!” Roselyn said sharply. “What possible excuse could you come up with? And suppose she thinks you’re working with us and calls the cops – who’s going to take care of Joshua then?”

“So that only leaves JoAnna and Troian,” said Hayden. “I say we should send JoAnna.”

“Why?” asked Blake.

“Because I don’t want baby girl risking herself any more than she already is,” replied the blonde.

“Same reason I’m voting for Troian,” Shay parried.

“Love’s grand, ain’t it?” Alicia said ruefully.

“I’ll say JoAnna,” Blake chipped in. “Monica wouldn’t have any reason to think she’s involved.”

“My vote’s for Troian,” said Olivia. “She could say it’s for Channel Five as part of a followup they’re doing on us.”

“Yeah, that could work,” Roselyn agreed. “Motion carried – Troian it is.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to do it,” Alicia said sarcastically.

“Troian can be pretty persuasive when she wants to,” Hayden assured her. “Plus with those legs maybe Monica’ll be so turned on she’ll just give her the information in return for some sexy funtime.”

“I could do with some sexy funtime now,” Olivia mused. “Maybe with Navi.”

“I thought you liked guys,” smiled Roselyn.

“I do, but…” Olivia smiled back. “It can get a little lonely sometimes, and she was pretty hot.”

“We’ll take care of you before this is all over, relax,” Shay chuckled.

“Something else we have to take care of,” Roselyn continued. “Blake? It’s time.”

Shay gulped, hoping no one had noticed, as the tall blonde headed to the kitchen.

“She had me do this the day we got here,” Blake explained to Alicia en route. “Saving them for when we couldn’t hold off any longer.”

“Hold off what?” Mrs. Sanchez-in-waiting asked as Blake returned, the wooden ends of five matches sticking out of her clenched right fist.

“Hold off the draw to see which one of us sends Rhona Mitra to hell,” Roselyn explained. “Whoever gets the burnt match gets the job.”

“And if it’s Megan or Emma, she gets to lower the boom when we get them out,” Olivia added. “I’m going to draw for Megan, Hayden’s got Emma.”

Blake looked at the five matches she’d just swizzled around with her eyes shut as the other women gathered close around her, their fingers ready. “All right guys, on three… one… two… THREE.”

Each woman went for a match, and a moment later Blake let out a relieved sigh on seeing she’d drawn an unlit one.  Alicia also looked happy to see Roselyn’s hand brandishing her similarly unused match; Roselyn Sanchez had never gone in for murder, and despite the circumstances Alicia didn’t want her to start now.

Shay Mitchell sat there as if she was all alone, staring at her match.

And the blackened stump at its tip.

* * * * * * * * * *

“So how’s the next Megyn Kelly?” Ashley’s mother asked.

“Mom, I’m not there yet,” Ashley replied, wishing they were chatting on the phone and not via Skype so she could grimace the way she always wanted to whenever anyone mentioned Fox News. “Getting a step closer though…”

“Oh?” asked Mom.

“The station manager called me in today,” the blonde continued. “Apparently TPTB at the network got in touch and-“

“TPTB?”

“The powers that be,” Ashley translated.  “Anyway, they’re looking to get reporters for their national news show and guess who’s on their list?”

“So the whole country’s going to be seeing my baby?” the Benson maternal unit smiled. “All the way to the top, Ashley!”

“Hang on a minute,” her daughter said briskly. “I’ll have to call you back – I’ve got to take this message…”

This message was an indication that there was another person who wanted to have a video chat. Normally Ashley would’ve been fine with dividing her attention between the two people on the other end, but the person wanting to talk wasn’t inclined to share. Or wait.

“Is it work-related?” Mom asked.

“Oh yeah,” Ashley said. “Call you back, ‘kay? Love you!”

“I love you, baby! Knock ‘em dead!” Her mother’s fist punching the air was the last thing Ashley saw before closing that window, and clicking open the other one.

Ashley kept her smile intact, as much as she didn’t want to – just because she owed Rhona Mitra a lot didn’t mean she had to like her. Or the woman sitting next to her in the back of their limousine, sporting a grin with truly astonishing shit-eating capabilities and radiating MILF waves – something the young man sitting in between them looked very aware of. If only he knew he was catching a ride with two Grade A cunts… Ashley couldn’t say “Poor kid,” but she could think it.

“Hello, Miss Benson,” Rhona said without smiling, even though she had her hand stroking the poor kid’s right thigh. “I trust tonight’s top story will be what we discussed?”

“Signed, sealed and delivered,” Ashley assured her.

Since becoming a marquee name, Ashley had been getting some influence in how the main news bulletins were ordered and shown on air. Not enough to be in charge every single night because even Ashley knew there were limits to the weight that could be thrown around, but enough to make sure that one R. Mitra’s interests were pretty well represented. Tonight, for instance, would give prominence to the brutal murder of several gang members visiting San Francisco; they had all been found in one location, each shot in the head like it was Mexico or something.

The members belonged to one of Rhona’s rivals elsewhere in the state, arranged so said rival would understand just who was in charge around here – as well as to send a message to the people from Nevada that she was currently in negotiations with, message being that they WOULD handle things her way or not at all. This would also be beneficial for Rhona’s female friend, who smiled up at Ashley; since Carol Vorderman had had some trouble in the past from the same group, this was a bit of a weight off her shoulders.

“That won’t be a problem,” Ashley assured Rhona.

“Of course not,” Rhona replied. “This is my friend Carol Vorderman; her husband is a very big fan of your body.”

“Of work, obviously,” Carol added with a knowing smirk.

“Yeah. Of work,” said Ashley.

“This young man is one of her interns,” Rhona continued, as the guy waved at Ashley. “He’s a man of few words… or should that be no words, because he lacks the ability to speak.”

“But he’s better at his job than many people who can,” Carol continued.  “And he never wastes time on the phone.”

Lowering her voice to a stage whisper, Carol added “Plus he has a beautiful cock on him.”

“Carol!” Rhona said in mock anger. “You’re a married woman!”

“He knows, and he doesn’t mind – do you Scott?”

Scott, smiling sheepishly, shook his head as Ashley resisted the temptation to put her head in her palms. Although she had to admit he was pretty damn tasty, she had had these meetings before and she knew what was coming.

“Carol and I have had a rather stressful morning,” Rhona continued, “and we need something to help us relax. Something non-alcoholic, preferably.”

“What’s your poison?” Ashley asked, as if she didn’t know.

“Stand up,” Rhona said.  “And step back from the screen until I tell you to stop.”

The blonde got up and moved away, walking backwards and hating how her screen was so large; Rhona and Carol’s faces would get small, but not small enough.

“Stop,” said Rhona. “Now please show Miss Vorderman your legs.”

Ashley had come to work that day in a pantsuit; a nice dark brown number. Remembering to keep a smile on her face as if she couldn’t wait to do it, she unzipped the pants and stepped out of them, displaying her lithe pins and silken panties. Carol’s grin became wider as Ashley told herself not to let cracks show – she was fine with showing off what she had, but she preferred it on her own terms.

“Scott never stops smiling when he watches you,” Carol said. “He really wants to see your breasts. So does hubby. And so do I,” she added, a hungry look on her face.

“You know what to do,” Rhona added.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ashley said quietly, hating it more and more as she unbuttoned her shirt. Most of all she hated how she had decided to go braless today, a decision she really hadn’t regretted until now. Rhona and Carol’s eyes zeroed in on Ashley’s perky breasts as she let the shirt slide off her onto the floor, putting the palms of her hands underneath them and letting them jiggle a little, her smile getting a little genuine (she loved fondling herself, even if it was for people she didn’t like).

“Leave us now,” Rhona told Scott. Without a word, the young man exited the limousine, letting his eyes flick briefly Benson-wards.

“I wish my boobs still looked like that,” Carol said, not paying the slightest attention to Scott’s departure. “If she was here with us, I would be licking on those for days.”

“Why, thank you,” Ashley replied, wishing it had been from that cute guy they had just booted out.

“My husband has never been sure what he should be more impressed by,” Carol continued, “your screen personality or your bottom. Perhaps you should let us see the latter just to be sure.”

Ashley pivoted around and crouched down out of webcam range, slipping off her panties before rising, her bare backside hitting the centre of Rhona and Carol’s viewing screen.

“Oh my,” Carol smiled. “Definitely your bottom.”

The blonde bent herself forward, thrusting her behind forward and spreading it open. Rhona nodded approvingly; she hadn’t had to urge her on this time.  Both women studied Ashley’s snatch and backdoor, Carol licking her lips.

Ashley couldn’t see Carol leaning forward to kiss the screen image of her asshole, for which she was grateful – but she could see the door open, and Scott come in. How many copies of her key had Rhona made, anyway? She didn’t dare ask – she only knew that like the other times this had happened, there was nothing she could do about it. Still, as the boy came towards her while removing his clothes, Ashley reflected that it could have been worse. Hell, it HAD been worse.

Some of them had been much, much worse. This guy Scott though… Ashley had to admit that what he was displaying as he shed his clothes wasn’t bad at all; he looked like he spent a fair bit of time at the gym when he wasn’t doing whatever Vorderman told him to do. He took care of his teeth as well, as Ashley saw when he smiled at her, his eyes sparkling as he took in her nakedness. Almost as much as hers were on taking in his.

“That’s a nice package he has there, isn’t it?” Carol asked Ashley.

“Oh yeah,” the reporter replied, estimating his cock was about a seven-incher. Not the biggest she’d had, but she could take that in no problem.

“Unfortunately this isn’t about what you want,” Rhona said. “It’s about what we want. So no head for him today.”

“Shit,” Ashley thought behind the smile.

“Show the nice man your bottom, Ashley,” Carol said cheerily. “Don’t worry, we know you have to prepare for the evening’s broadcast – he’s not going to sodomize you.”

“Thank you,” the blonde said, daintily twirling around and presenting her rear view to the lad. Keeping the smile up, Ashley pretended she didn’t see Carol leaning forward and touching the screen on a spot which would have corresponded with where her vagina was on their image.

Scott showed he believed in action, rather than words, by moving right behind her and kissing her shoulderblades while his arms encircled her front, cupping her breasts in his hands. He squashed them and fondled them, getting her nipples in between two fingers of each hand. Ashley turned to face him, wishing that they weren’t in front of the webcam so she could keep the two criminals from seeing everything.

Ashley kissed Scott as he moved his fingers around her body; she didn’t know why he wasn’t speaking, and she didn’t care. Scott returned the kiss before starting to taste her jugs, one hand fondling her butt and the other heading between her legs, enjoying how moist she was getting there. Ashley took his cock in her hand, feeling its long hardness continuing to swell as she stroked it. It was so rare to come across a cute guy who had some serious baggage in his trousers; if she hadn’t had an audience she’d have popped this in her mouth and sucked him dry.

Scott’s hands both moved onto Ashley’s ass, lifting her up and setting her onto the table with her legs opened slightly – just enough for him to get access. Ashley reflected that it was fortunate you couldn’t zoom in with webcams, or they might have tried to get a closeup of the guy’s erection going inside her… her closed eyes and open mouth relayed that moment perfectly to Rhona and Carol, the latter blissfully remembering the last time she’d been on the receiving end of that organ.

Ashley ground back against Scott as he began to pump her. She fondled his body, not letting herself be distracted by the lipstick mark on one of his shoulders (a souvenir from that morning, the last time he and Carol had fucked) as she felt him filling the spot between her legs. In and out it went, building up the rhythm as he ground against her; every stroke heated her up more as she waited for the inevitable.

Unbeknownst to Ashley, Rhona actually could zoom in – thereby getting herself a perfect close shot of Scott’s lengthy rod sliding in and out of the reporter’s soaking blonde pussy. He was thrusting it in her up to his balls, and gradually getting faster; her eyes were watching the cock going back and forth with no little envy.

“How long can he go for?” Rhona asked Carol in a low voice, the better to keep Ashley from hearing.

“If I hadn’t done him before we arrived, probably half an hour,” her friend replied. “He’ll be finished soon, I think.”

Indeed, he was already starting to thrash beside Ashley, the blonde reporter clutching and clawing him as she bucked against his body, wishing that just once Rhona would let her hook up again with the guys she’d procured for their pleasure. He was heating up her box for days, and she loved how Scott’s hot cock felt inside her so much that she wouldn’t have minded if he came inside her and the hell with condoms…

“NOOOO!!!!” Ashley wailed, feeling him move all the way back and out. The guy may have been considerate enough not to want to impregnate her, but this was about what SHE wanted – and she didn’t want Scott to pull out right on the verge of leaving his payload inside her. Screw what Rhona said, she wanted and needed that juice… mid-orgasm she quickly dropped to her knees as Scott moved off the desk and stood on the floor.

She was fast, but Scott was faster – before she had time to risk Rhona’s wrath by gulping his jizz, the white stream shot out of his tip, splattering Ashley’s face. With his right hand clutching his shaft, Scott guided the creamy fluid along her face, sending it along her cheeks, lips and nose, with some of it even landing in her hair. And it and he just kept on coming… holy guacamole, how long could this go on? Ashley wasn’t crazy about bukkake, but what she tasted of him was so good that she could forgive him. Especially with how she was feeling inside in general and between her legs in particular.

Rhona could also forgive Ashley for trying to have a gobble, because of how she was capturing the whole display for posterity; as she had done each time Ashley performed for her, she stopped the recording.

“This one’s a keeper,” Carol laughed.

“They all are,” Rhona assured her softly. “For insurance. Just in case Miss Benson should get a little above herself.”

The women watched as Ashley, flushed with the afterglow, kissed Scott’s shaft while forcing herself to leave it at that. “Nice…” she breathed, looking up at him and unable to think of anything else to say. Scott didn’t have to say anything – his huge smile did it all.

As the blonde got up, she thought that all of this would come to a stop someday… that someday she’d be completely untouchable. And when that day came, she’d think of a way to get Rhona Mitra off her back without getting herself killed. It would be hard, but Ashley Benson knew you could do anything if you wanted it badly enough. Yeah, she owed where she was now to Rhona, but it didn’t mean she was stuck with her for life.

“Thank you, Ashley,” Rhona said calmly. “Scott, I’ll see you shortly.” And ignoring whatever Ashley was about to say, she terminated the connection.

“Putting out sex tapes would embarrass her, I agree,” Carol said thoughtfully, “but it wouldn’t be the end of her career. It’s not like she’s sleeping with Shetland ponies or Dobermans or whatever.”

“No, Miss Benson has not made love to a creature,” Rhona agreed. “Yet.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Kate Mara looked so girly you’d have thought she’d yowl or something at how hot the coffee was, so it always kind of impressed Troian Bellisario that she could drink it so easily. It helped that it was a whole lot better than the kind she’d had to put up with at Channel 7, yeah, but still.

Troian wasn’t really in the mood for talking any more than Kate was. No one liked having to read news stories about missing people being found dead, but it was much, much worse when it was someone you knew; it had taken all of Kate’s professional poise to relay the news about the search for the long-missing Katy Bailey having come to a tragic end that morning. She didn’t care if Katy worked for a rival station and she didn’t care what Miss Bailey liked to put inside her body, Katy had been a friend… to disappear off the face of the earth after being fired, and then turn up in a field by the Mexican border – she didn’t deserve that.

And Troian, who HAD been a colleague of the late Miss Bailey, had shed tears freely when Kate read the story, being thankful that she was behind the cameras. Kate, who’d done a little crying of her own after the news, was grateful for the company that lunchtime – even though the two hadn’t said anything, just sat there in the diner having coffee and silently commiserating.

Troian heard the phone in her pocket, indicating a message was coming in. It could wait till she got home.

Even if it WAS from Hayden.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jessica Alba and Julie Bowen were another pair having some coffee, as the two stood in the corridor on their break.

“So you’re still looking to get a transfer?” Jessica asked Julie.

“Yeah; maybe to a men’s prison this time,” the blonde laughed. “Seriously, my fiancé really wants me to get another gig. Says being associated with the big breakout makes me look bad.”

“Not as bad as it makes Winslet look, and she’s staying around…”

Jessica and Julie paused to watch a small, slim, sexy blonde dressed for success briskly pass them by, a somewhat pissed-off look on her face. Both guards watched her walk up the corridor before Julie shook herself out of it.

“Not three-way material, not three-way material,” she told herself hastily.

“You hold that thought,” said Jessica, dumping her emptied cup in the trashcan before heading up the corridor herself…

“Great legs,” Helen Mirren murmured as she passed by Agent Kristen Bell on her way to the gym.

“Thank you,” Kristen replied, on her way to the courtyard.

At least there was an English blonde at Remy Hadley who was happy to see her; even though she’d arranged beforehand to visit Warden Winslet for some more questions, Kristen had been kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Seriously, how long could a meeting be?

“Well, THAT was a waste of time,” Kristen muttered, heading to the helicopter as her hair blew into her face, thanks to a sudden blast of wind. As the helicopter started up, she reflected that she couldn’t even come back with a warrant…

“AGENT BELL! AGENT BELL!”

The hair still in her face, Kristen brushed it aside and saw a woman racing towards her – one of the guards, and a pretty foxy one at that; long brown hair, the kind of coffee complexion other Latinas would kill for, and lips that under other circumstances she would’ve kissed for days. So why was she in such a hurry to talk to her? Declaration of love?

“What can I do for you?” Kristen asked as Jessica Alba caught up with her.

“I tried to talk to you last time you and the other two were here, but by the time I was through clearing some stuff up you were gone,” Jessica panted.

“Call me when I get back down – I really gotta go…”

“This can’t wait!” Jessica interrupted. “It’s about Scarlett getting beaten up…”

“We’re working on it,” Kristen assured her. “When we find the San Fran 8 we’ll find out which one of them hurt Johansson.”

“That’s just it! It wasn’t any of them!”

Kristen hesitated for a moment, and then shouted to the pilot “SHUT IT DOWN!” before turning back to the anxious guard.

“What do you mean, it wasn’t any of them?” the agent asked. “We heard from Scarlett herself that one of them did it after they gangbanged her during the breakout.”

“Scarlett’s always been willing to be a little… friendly with the prisoners, all right? That much’s true. And she got knocked out, yeah, but it didn’t last long and Cate called us all together to go after them, and she called Scarlett into the locker room and…” Jessica swallowed. “We all heard Cate Blanchett beating the shit out of her. I swear she would’ve killed her if she’d gone on-“

“And none of you went in there to stop her?” Kristen interrupted.

“Cate is one seriously scary fucker,” Jessica told her. “None of us wanted to be on the receiving end of that stick of hers, not after what she did to Summer Glau…”

“But she told us that it was one of the prisoners!”

“WHICH ONE?!?” Jessica shouted. “If Scarlett had wanted to say which one it was, she’d have said! So which one did she say do it?!”

Kristen stood there for a moment, before taking out her card. “You call me when I get back to base,” she told Jessica. “I want you to come down and make a statement… you ready to do that?”

“Definitely,” the guard replied. “I’ll be ringing you when I sign out.”

“Thanks,” Kristen finished, before nodding to the pilot as Jessica walked away, tucking the card into her top.

As Kristen boarded the chopper, the two things that had occurred to her following what Jessica had said kept turning over in her head – one, there was no reason for Scarlett not to at least try to name the prisoner who’d beaten her. And two, Kristen hadn’t PERSONALLY spoken to her…

…but Beverley Mitchell had. She made a note to ask her exactly what Scarlett had said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dr. Freema Agyeman finished making her notes on the patients’ progress, the calm and professionally detached look on her face hiding her relief. She was a doctor and she liked to keep a distance, but she still didn’t like to lose any patient.

She could see Jennifer Lawrence’s bed from her office; the young prisoner had been on the uptick over the past few hours. The doctor had been silently rooting for her the most – anyone who landed on Jaime Pressly didn’t deserve to die young, good or not.

Dr. Agyeman had promised to keep Scarlett’s family informed on the woman’s condition, and though the young guard wasn’t out of the woods yet it was promising. Better yet, the views of all concerned that Cate Blanchett was a fighter were true – she’d stabilized, and one of the nurses had even claimed to have heard her mumble something. Dr. Agyeman had put that down to the fetish Nurse Watts had for Australians – until she heard Blanchett mumbling herself.

Though the doctor wasn’t the type to cross her fingers, she was willing to lay money on both guards at least being able to talk in the next few days.

* * * * * * * * * *

As the programme started, Olivia Wilde squirmed in her chair.

“Yeah, I hate this show myself,” Roselyn said sympathetically.

“It’s not that…” Olivia replied, reaching into her pants pocket. “The phone’s on maximum vibration, AGAIN.” That last word was accompanied by a glare aimed at Hayden as she pulled the phone out.

“Hey, what’s up?…It’s for you.” Olivia handed the phone to Miss Panettiere. “Your girlfriend. And turn it down a notch next time.”

“Sorry,” Hayden mouthed. “Hey, Troian…”

“Did I wake you up?” the brunette asked from her bed.

“Nah, we’re all still watching TV till we drop off. I can’t sleep anyway.”

“You heard about Katy, huh?”

“Yeah,” said the blonde. “Poor girl – I was kinda hoping she’d turn up… you know. I wish I could get in touch with the family…”

“I heard Channel 7 dedicated the main news to her,” Troian added. “Even after they fired her.”

“Bastards,” Hayden said about her former employers.

“Ain’t that the truth,” agreed Troian, pausing before continuing.  “I got your message… what’s the job?”

“We have to get Mitra’s home address… how do you feel about paying a visit to a hot Italian realtor?” asked Hayden.

“At home or at work?”

“It’s gotta be at home. Ideally without Mrs. Grande around.”

“Get it by any means necessary, right?” Troian asked, allowing herself to smile.

“Lady’s the winner,” replied Hayden.

“I’m on it,” her girlfriend assured her.

“We all owe you big time. Vaya con Dios, Troian.”

“You too, baby girl,” said the brunette. “You too.”

* * * * * * * * * *

There weren’t enough chairs in Jessica Biel’s office for everyone there to sit down, so someone had to be the loser. Tammin Sursok wasn’t sure how she’d become that loser, but at least she could now literally look down on Beverley Mitchell.

“So what’s so important that we had to get in here first thing in the morning?” Kristen Bell asked Jessica.

“We’ve finally gotten a break in the Mitra case,” Jessica answered. “Tell ‘em, BJ.”

“We got ourselves a witness,” Tammin told them, managing to put on enough of her professional face to hide the joy she was feeling at being the centre of attention for reasons related to her job for once. “She used to work at the Spectacular-“

“Lemme guess, a waitress?” Kristen interrupted.

“She was one of the strippers, all right?” Tammin headed her off with. “Her name’s Victoria Justice, and she was one of the regular girls who our friend Rhona Mitra had some fun with. She got in touch with me just after we got back from LA-“

“Why you?” Kristen interrupted.

“Do that again and I’ll make you eat Rebel Wilson’s ass until she screams,” Jessica chided the agent. “Go on, BJ.”

“Anyway,” Tammin continued, enjoying the look of absolute disgust on Kristen’s face, “Victoria’s seen Rhona hanging around with like this all-star squad of California’s Most Wanted – Carol Vorderman, Beyonce Knowles, Oprah Winfrey, Stephanie Seymour, Kris Jenner… the girl’s had to get up close and personal with some of them herself, because Rhona likes to make her staff ‘available.’”

“With WINFREY?!” Kristen groaned. “Poor kid.”

“She may have seen them together, but that’s not enough by itself,” Beverley said.

“Is fucking young women enough?” Tammin asked. “Because Victoria’s had front row for Rhona and some of her cronies pulling that as well. More than once – apparently Mitra likes it when people watch, especially if they look like Victoria.”

“So? That’s not a crime,” Kristen pointed out.

“It is when the girls aren’t even 15,” Tammin replied quietly.

“Whoa,” the blonde said. “Did NOT know she swung that way.”

“She swings all ways,” Tammin said. “And one more thing… Victoria has a feeling she saw Rhona have someone killed.”

“No way!” Beverley cried.

“Yes way. Victoria had had a session with Mitra and another of the women called Charisma Carpenter, and she heard Rhona talking on the phone with someone – Victoria thinks she was called Julianne. Anyway, Rhona told her to take care of this person called Tracy Mills.”

“Tracy Mills…” Jessica mused. “That name rings a bell.”

“She was the one in line for warden at Remy Hadley,” Kristen said. “The one who took a dive off the Golden Gate. Guess we know now it wasn’t jump or fall, more like push.”

“This is still all hearsay,” Beverley protested. “You haven’t got any real proof.”

“But we’ve got somewhere to start looking now,” Jessica replied. “Does she know any of these girls’ names? The ones Rhona was babyfucking?”

“Yeah, she’s got some,” Tammin said.

“We’ll have to get her down here so we can get the whole story,” Jessica continued.

“Already taken care of,” the agent replied with a warm smile. “Victoria Justice is in the city right now… she’s staying with me until we can get her to testify. Girl wants Rhona Mitra taken down even more than Kristen does.”

“As of now, your place will be under 24-hour surveillance,” Jessica said, picking up her phone. “Can you trust her not to go anywhere, or should I have someone staying with her when you’re not there?”

“Victoria trusts me like she doesn’t trust her old boss,” said the agent. “She’ll stick around.”

“If she’s staying with you she must REALLY trust you,” Kristen laughed. “She pretty?”

“She gorgeous,” Tammin replied, hoping she wasn’t sounding too enthusiastic.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You gotta hand it to BJ,” Kristen told Beverley a few moments after Jessica had shooed them all out. “Thinking that trip to LA got us nothing but some more Frequent Flyer miles and all the time she was getting us a little crack in Rhona’s suit of armour. Almost proud of her.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Beverley replied.

“Before you dash, I got something I wanna ask you,” Kristen continued.

“Gotta keep,” her colleague replied. “Nature calls…”

Watching her race to the ladies’ room, Kristen chuckled. Serve her right for not draining before she left home.

Safely ensconced in the stall, Beverley plucked her cellphone from her top…

“And you can’t volunteer to be Miss Justice’s part-time guard?” Rhona Mitra asked once she’d been apprised of recent developments.

“I’m too busy around here,” Beverley said. “Besides, BJ already doesn’t trust me.”

“Your trust issues with her are of less importance than that little tart not wrecking my life,” Rhona replied icily. “Deal with her.”

“I can find a way,” Beverley assured her.

“And if you have to get rid of Agent Sursok…”

“I hope it’ll come to that,” Beverley said. “I got the boss around my little finger and on her back, but if BJ keeps snooping around someone’ll start taking her seriously one day.”

“Why do you keep calling her BJ?” Rhona asked.

“Short for Blow Job Lips,” the agent replied, keeping herself from adding “I keep telling you this.”

“However you handle it, try to make it look like an accident. I’m sure you can do that.”

“It might not have to be,” Beverley suggested thoughtfully. “Scared witness, in a house with a gun… she and BJ argue, Victoria goes for the gun… and then she’s all ‘What have I done?’ and turns it on herself.”

The line was silent for a few moments, but Beverley knew better than to hang up.

“Yes,” Rhona replied. “Yes, that would work. An emotionally fragile young woman in a situation like this, coupled with a pressured FBI agent she’s involved with…”

“Plus she’s a stripper. And you know what they’re like,” Beverley laughed.

If she could have seen Rhona, she’d have been rewarded with a little knowing smile.

* * * * * * * * * *

With Kristen Bell’s card in one hand, Jessica Alba stood by the phone in her living room – all she had to do was pick it up and call.

What was stopping her was the content of the simple brown envelope she had in her other hand. Normally not getting any bills was a good thing, but today she’d have swapped what she’d found by her door for a Final Demand – it was a simple brown envelope, with nothing inside but a signed picture of her sister. It had been taken when sis was leaving work to get home to her husband and children, and it had not been signed by the picture’s subject; whoever had taken it had written “Not a word” on the glossy print.

Jessica knew from the second she saw it what this was about. Had it been a threat to her own life it would have been one thing, but going after her family was something else… she was a brave woman, but she did NOT want to drag the people she loved into this. Slowly she crumpled Kristen’s card up.

“Good girl,” the woman who’d dropped off the envelope – Julie Bowen -  said amiably. “I knew you’d see sense.”

“Just leave them alone,” Jessica said dully.

“Of course we will,” her fellow guard smiled. “You can count on it… now.”

* * * * * * * * * *

House rules, Emma Roberts reflected. She hadn’t even interrupted Rhona Mitra that time, and now here she was not being able to do anything but look at Hannah Davis.

Twenty minutes before, a dark-haired woman with large breasts on a small frame – she’d brought Emma her dinner the night before and called herself Emily Ratajkowski – had given the safecracker an injection of something just as she woke up. Whatever it was, at least it wasn’t an air bubble; Emily had assured her that it was just to keep her quiet, because Mistress Rhona wanted her at rest for this.

Emma wasn’t so much at rest as at not being able to move, and “this” had turned out to be Hannah Davis several feet away from her bed, stark naked and on her knees. That in itself could and should have been fun, except that Hannah was being fondled by Rhona’s ladyfriend – though fondling was an understatement for what Rosie Huntington-Whiteley was doing, since she was down on her knees with her face buried deep inside Hannah’s ass, her tongue licking away on the woman’s quim beneath as her fingers probed Hannah’s flesh. Rosie was clearly loving herself some fruit from the U.S. Virgin Islands.

The safecracker’s eyes rested on Hannah’s nipples, rock hard and erect with all the loving Rosie was giving her – Emma was so jealous of Rosie right now, and she was wishing that she could give Hannah some action like that. Emma took her eyes on a tour of Hannah’s body, from her lovely little face and its piercing green eyes, down her lithe form to her legs. Even the scars she had on them didn’t ruin it…

The scars. Emma stared at those scars running along the top of Hannah’s left thigh; her uniforms had kept them out of sight but now there they were. Kind of like the one Emma had on her butt, but longer – and in a row, as if someone had…

She tried to tell herself that Rosie or Rhona hadn’t had anything to do with them, that Hannah had just had some kind of accident with a rake or something. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t more like the visions that were suddenly filling her head, visions of Hannah being at Rosie’s mercy – Hannah being whipped, Hannah having pliers on her breasts, Hannah being forced to put things in her holes that she didn’t want there…

Hannah’s sighs and groans built up as Rosie began to kiss her way up the woman’s back, taking her own sweet time about it and pressing her small rack onto Hannah’s flesh.  When she reached the shoulderblades, Rosie turned to look at her audience.

“You’re lucky Roni doesn’t want me to play with her,” the English blonde giggled. “Not right now, anyway. Otherwise I’d have brought my special toys.”

Ever since Olivia Wilde had told them the story of how she’d been put in prison, Emma had never forgotten what Rosie meant by “playing.” The thought of that monster being turned loose on sweet little Hannah would, in a perfect world, have been enough to wipe out the drugs in her system – in THIS world, however, all she could do was watch Rosie kiss Hannah’s neck, before her nurse turned her face to look at Rosie and kiss her on the lips, tongue and everything as if she really wanted to do it.

Rosie’s left hand strayed down Hannah’s body to between her legs, where she made a fist and rested it on the other woman’s pussy. Then she slowly extended its middle finger, sinking it deep inside Hannah while her free hand felt around the floor searching for the one toy she had brought with her. Emma could see the sizeable dildo a few inches away, and had it been someone she actually liked rather than Rosie she’d have shouted “Colder! Colder! Warmer! WARMER! YEAH, BOILING HOT!” to guide the Huntington-Whiteley fingers on their journey.

Hannah’s hands rested on Rosie’s small jugs, squeezing them.

“C’mon, Hannah,” Rosie breathed, sliding her finger out to the middle knuckle and moving it back in again as her thumb found Hannah’s clit. “You can do it harder than that… you know how I like it.”

Rosie knew that Hannah actually couldn’t do it harder than that what with her having all the brute force of a particularly drowsy snail, but it was fun to feel her try. And it was even more fun to feel her digit inside this lovely Caribbean girl – no wonder she was so hot all the time. Looking into Hannah’s eyes and giving her love button a good flick and rub, Rosie found that dildo – out of her line of vision, but she knew which direction it was pointing.

With Hannah’s gorgeous cunt otherwise occupied, Rosie slipped the dildo into her mouth and gave it the blowjob treatment, working it around her tongue and fitting most of it inside until it was thoroughly lubed up. Then, still fingering the US Virgin babe, Rosie moved the dildo behind Hannah and positioned it on the cleft of her ass. Rosie kissed Hannah as she started to push it up her behind, slowly and steadily sliding it into her.

“Ooooohhh….” Hannah gasped from the dual assault, before she gave Rosie a little lovebite on her left breast as the willowy blonde started to move away from her. Hannah kissed Rosie’s chest, bending forward and moving further south as the other woman kept her fingers around Hannah’s crotch for as long as she could be comfortable, all the while with Rosie’s other hand inserting the dildo up Hannah.

Within moments Hannah was bent to an angle bringing her in line with Rosie’s pussy; as her tongue started savouring her box, Rosie was bent over herself above Hannah’s back, her boobs hanging down and brushing the flesh as she rested one hand on a buttcheek and the other on the dildo, thrusting it as far into Hannah’s behind as it could go. They made for a good circuit – Rosie’s little gasps as Hannah licked her out matching Miss Davis’s cries as she was sodomized, which drove her to eat Rosie further with each stroke, every thrust being a little more urgent than the last. Rosie shoved it harder and faster, driving through Hannah’s asshole like an engine and leaving little kisses on the small of her back as she listened to the other woman’s rising moans and cries.

Clutching Rosie’s legs, Hannah eagerly sucked and tasted her snatch while flooding Rosie with compliments. “Oh Rosie, this is SO sweet… I could eat this all day… and that feels so good… so, SOOOOO goooooOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDD….!!!!” Hannah forgot all about speaking as she felt herself reaching the heights – this fine English pussy plus the way she was getting fucked meant she had to come now… she couldn’t wait any longer…

All it took was one more stroke, and Hannah howled into Rosie’s pussy as the joy filled her body. She almost drew blood from gripping Rosie’s legs so hard, and the feel of two solid nipples on her back wasn’t helping… except it kind of was. Hannah quaked underneath Rosie as the Englishwoman pulled the dildo out of her gaping back door with a satisfied sigh, letting Hannah slowly come back up and rest against Rosie. Emma’s snatch was almost as soaked as Hannah’s; she wanted to do some of those things to Hannah Davis herself. Damn those drugs…

“Are you feeling better now?” Rosie asked the patient, one arm around the hyperventilating Hannah.

“Yeah, until you showed up,” Emma replied, not letting on how jealous she was.

“My fame precedes me,” the Englishwoman giggled. “I’ve got to change for your friend down the hall… Hannah, Paula’ll arrive shortly to take up where I left off. You haven’t met Paula Patton yet, have you? You’ll like her.”

“When am I going to get to join in…?” Emma asked.

“When you agree to join us outside the bedroom,” Rosie replied. “Until then, you can look all you want but Hannah’s beautiful body will be off limits to you. Direct orders from Roni.”

Emma shifted her gaze to Hannah, who – fucked as she had been into submission – could do nothing but nod. But as Rosie walked up to her bed, Emma noticed with no small touch of relief that Hannah’s eyes were showing exactly how she really felt.

Then she couldn’t see Hannah’s eyes, because the willowy English blonde rolled the supine Emma onto her front. Lying there, unable to do anything, she rolled her eyes as Rosie took in her bare behind, resting the palm of a hand on it.

“I could have so much fun with this now, if you just agreed to play along,” Rosie sighed. “Hannah has a nice one as well, doesn’t she?”

Rosie wielded the dildo that had been previously inside Hannah, and ran it along Emma’s ass cleft as the bedridden young woman resigned herself to being ruthlessly cornholed. She instinctively gritted her teeth to keep from yelling when Rosie pushed it in…

Except it didn’t happen. Rosie tapped Emma’s butt with it before resting it by her snatch; she couldn’t help but feel relieved. Yes, she knew where that had been just now, but if Rosie was going to give it to her that way she didn’t mind in the slightest. If only it had been Hannah behind her right now… Emma waited for the first strokes to light her up.

“Say yes and you’ll get all you want and more from Hannah,” Rosie cooed as if reading her mind. “But not until then.”

Damn. The girl really was a sadist.

“I do hope you say yes,” Rosie finished. “I’d hate for Roni to have to set up another accident.” Bending down, she kissed Emma’s ass before she turned and left the room, Hannah watching the prisoner sympathetically.

It had only been a light touch, but those last few words left Emma feeling as if Rosie had just hit her with a demolition ball.

* * * * * * * * * *

Unlike Emma Roberts, Megan Fox had never been able to get enough if any sleep for however long she’d been in this room. It seemed like someone was always in there, putting clamps on her tits or playing with her snatch – tying her down at all hours of the day or night. The only time she ever got a break was when she got to shower, and even then someone was always with her.

The weird thing was, that someone was always Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. While a small part of her was impressed that someone so skinny was so inexhaustible, most of Megan was on the verge of begging her to stop. And not in the way a masochist stopped by bringing her just to the edge of pleasure and then pulling back to keep her from coming… although Rosie, damn her, did that as well.

And now here was Megan, disorientated and sweaty, up in the air and completely naked. She was hanging from ropes and cords attached to the ceiling, and she could hear a clacking sound coming down from the hallway. Megan knew who would be coming in – that English girl again, ready for some more fun…

The door was pushed open and Rosie entered, dressed as if she was about to go on a steeplechase. With her skintight trousers and  black sleeveless jacket over a white shirt, Miss Huntington-Whiteley certainly looked the part – but Megan knew from the look on her face that the only filly she had any interest in riding that morning was Megan Denise Fox. And that nasty-looking riding crop she was holding in one hand would be leaving its mark on her legs, her chest, possibly even her cunt.

In her other hand Rosie was carrying a vibrator, which Megan knew from experience she wouldn’t mind stuffing into one of her own orifices before inserting it into Miss Fox. And the girl always knew just when to pull it out, to leave her practically begging for more just so she could finally have some relief. Rosie kept her eyes on the captive as she walked across the floor, noting how the bonds had Megan’s legs apart so she could see EVERYTHING.

Wielding the crop, Rosie flicked it upwards, having the tip touch Megan’s button. It wasn’t there long enough to cause any pain, but Megan had a feeling that was about to change.

“C’mon, Megan… you can’t fight it forever,” Rosie whispered. “You want some of me, don’t you? Don’t be shy, you know you do.”

“No… I….” Megan said in between gasps.

“Yes, you do. I know you do. They all do. Just play along,” the blonde said, stroking Megan’s thighs with the crop. “Such a pretty filly… we could have so much fun together…”

Rosie switched on the vibrator, bringing the whirring device up towards Megan’s face.

“You work with this… and I’ll work with this,” Rosie added, indicating the crop.

Feeling the crop on her flesh, Megan reflected that she may have had difficulty telling David Cameron from David Blaine, but one thing Rosie knew was sex. And she was right – they could have fun together. Megan might even get to come once in a while, or more than once. But she’d have to be cut down first.

And as the vibrator moved towards the brunette, she knew there was only one way any of this would end…

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” Megan screamed. “I’LL TELL YOU WHERE THEY ARE!”

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