Chapter Two

“And this is, like, our main gaming floor. It’s not in use at the moment. But the machines are super fun. Oh, and they totally light up and play music if you push the buttons right. They’ve got, like, heaps of buttons so that’s crazy hard to do…”

Tassia trailed behind the blathering bubblebrain as she danced and twirled through the colorful ranks of slot machines. Her short skirts flared, flashing her perky butt and a lacy white thong with every spin.

The officer fanned her face, attempting to ward off the stifling warmth, sweating through her pale blue uniform shirt.

She loosened the tie and tugged at her collar, taking in her surroundings.

The casino was decorated in soft hues of lilac, ivory, and gold. Corinthian columns reached the ceiling, where inset light panels cast a cozy glow that felt rather intimate.

The slot machines blinked and chimed invitingly, promising quick thrills and easy dopamine hits.

Tassia had learned about the brain chemistry behind gambling addictions online.

“You’ve got a really nice figure. Why hide it under that boring uniform?”

Huh?

Dragging her gaze away from a game called Gold Rush with a small cowboy prospector dancing on the screen, Tassia found Dolly standing too close, peering at her speculatively.

“Wha-what?” She asked, backing up a step.

The question had come out surprisingly clear and direct. Dolly’s vacuous expression was gone, replaced by a serious, appraising stare. Then the ditzy grin snapped back into place so fast Tassia wondered if she’d imagined everything.

“Oops, what am I saying?” Dolly smacked the side of her head, beaming like the village idiot. “You know what your body looks like. Duh! Still, it’s a shame not to show it off. You must work, like, super hard to stay in tip-top shape.”

Tassia nodded vaguely, licking her dry lips.

She did work hard. Six days a week, she trained her five-foot-five frame into a toned, honed, spring-loaded weapon. As a competitive Sambo fighter and dedicated gym rat, she still fought against steep odds to earn respect. Most men laughed at the slim female with abs and inky hair tied into a short ponytail.

They’d catcall Tassia in her green sports bra and dark yoga pants, loudly remarking on how the fabric hugged her taut rear and modest chest—until she slammed their leering faces into the mats a few times.

That usually cured them of the urge to run their mouths.

“As Politsiya, physical training is mandatory,” Tassia replied, her voice a touch raspy. “Strength, cardio, martial arts… for self-defense and subject control. It keeps us fit.”

“Sounds crazy tough.” The Asian airhead commiserated. “I bet the men have, like, an unfair advantage over us gals, too, yeah? Being all big and strong and hunky and stuff. How are you supposed to compete with that? Where’s the level playing field, am I right?”

She wasn’t wrong.

Tassia was painfully aware of the glass ceiling in the Vladivostok police precinct. But she didn’t care about any of that right now.

What she needed was a drink to wet her whistle.

“OMG, I haven’t even shown you the best part!” Dolly exclaimed, as though sensing her discomfort. “The complimentary refreshment bar! We’ve got cookies, tea, coffee, buckets of candy, and the best pink lemonade. It’s my absolute favorite. You’re gonna love it.”

“Please, lead the way.” Tassia croaked; her throat felt like sandpaper.

“Follow me!”

The refreshment bar turned out to be an extravagant affair.

Thirty feet of linen-covered serving table was stacked with tea and coffee services, a variety of cookies in jars, freshly baked confections on large silver trays, tureens of hot soup, fried savory morsels, and finger sandwiches nestled on dainty paper doilies, and, as Dolly had promised, literal buckets overflowing with candy in cellophane wrappers.

It all seemed to glisten and gleam under the overhead lights. Every bite looked delicious, freshly made, and smelled amazing.

But Tassia’s eyes locked immediately onto the two large crystal urns filled with sparkling pink liquid.

Ice cubes tinkled in the rosy beverage. Condensation collected on the clear crystal. Wire racks of highball glasses sat beside the shiny metal spigots, as inviting as an oasis in the desert.

“Help yourself to whatever.” Dolly chirped, skipping over to the table. “Master and Mistress keep everything, like, fully stocked?” She phrased it like a question. “Dunno why. It’s just us here.”

The fat-breasted simpleton plunged her arm elbow-deep into a large bucket of candy, rummaging noisily before pulling out a long stick of rock candy. It had to be seven inches long and three fingers thick.

“Ohhh… jackpot. Yay me!” She squealed before shoving the sugary treat between her pillowy lips without bothering to unwrap it. “Hmmmff~!”

Dolly dropped to her knees right there on the carpet, sucking and moaning with whorish enthusiasm.

Tassia ignored the lewd display. She was beyond caring. Her body felt like a dried, shriveled husk.

She beelined for the nearest urn and filled a glass to the brim. A distant part of her brain objected when she filled a glass with cold lemonade, screaming that something was wrong–that she should be more wary.

Her uniform shirt was now completely soaked through with sweat, clinging transparently to her skin and showing the lines of her bra underneath. But her thirst could not be denied.

Tassia lifted the glass to her cracked lips and chugged. The chilled liquid flooded her mouth—sweet, crisp, and unbelievably refreshing. A soft, involuntary groan escaped her as the cold soda slid down her burning throat.

It tasted like cherry pie and distilled sunshine, so damn delicious the hand holding the glass shook when she moved to refill it.

“Um, you’ll wanna go easy, friendo.” Dolly warned, pausing in her obscene display. “That stuff is, like, really potent.”

Tassia hesitated, glass halfway to her lips.

“Potent how? Like beer or vodka?” She didn’t detect any alcohol in the flavor.

“Uh… something like that, I guess?” The returning shrug and empty-headed grin were infuriatingly guileless. “Dunno how anything works, really. That’s what Master and Mistress are for. I just do what I’m told. I’m mostly here for the super fun times and epic cummies.”

The casual mention of the mysterious pair tugged at Tassia’s memory. For a brief moment, her mission floated back into focus. Thirst momentarily slaked, she eyed the edible offerings, then the shameless slut fellating a phallic-shaped lollipop.

Epic cummies?

The heat that had plagued her began condensing in her belly before dripping lower.

She poured a second glass of sunshine-infused cherry pie anyway–confident in her alcohol tolerance—and lowered herself to the floor, sitting cross-legged directly across from Dolly.

The buxom fool was denser than a yard of timber and couldn’t outsmart a spoon, but loose-lipped idiots like her always made interrogations easy.

Tassia took another long sip. The pink liquid fizzed wonderfully in her stomach, sending little sparkles of pleasure through her veins. She smiled.

Dolly giggled around the girthy gobstopper, her plump lips stretched wide, eyes shining with childlike glee.

“That sounds, like, totally interesting,” Tassia said, effortlessly mimicking the girl’s odd speech pattern. “How about we have a proper girl talk? I’d love to hear more about you and your friends.”

Dolly’s almond eyes lit up with unalloyed delight. “You mean, like, a real girl talk? Just you and me?”

“Yep.”

“OMG… yes!” She bounced excitedly on her knees. “And you promise to keep any secrets I tell you? No spilling any tea?”

“Zero tea spilled. I swear.”

Dolly pretended to think about it, a tiny wrinkle appearing on her otherwise flawless forehead for all of two seconds. Then she beamed and thrust out a hand, her smallest digit extended.

“Pinky promise?”

Tassia hooked her little finger around Dolly’s without hesitation.

“Pinky promise.” She confirmed.

“Ohhhh… this is gonna be, like, so much fun!” Dolly squealed, practically vibrating with eagerness. “Nobody ever comes to me with questions! Ask me anything. Go on! Favorite color, favorite band, favorite sexual position—that one’s easy: face down on Master’s giant cock, bee tee dubs…”

Tassia blinked, genuinely shocked at how quickly the girl leaped straight to oversharing.

She cleared her throat. “We should probably start with where you—”

“Wait!” Dolly thrust up a palm, suddenly serious. “A proper girl talk needs snacks. And maybe mimosas?” She frowned cutely. “Wait… I don’t remember how to make mimosas anymore. Phooey.”

Tassia watched spellbound, almost hearing the gears grinding at a snail’s pace in the beautiful moron’s skull, until she brightened again.

“What was I saying? Never mind. Oh yeah, snacks!” She reached up, hooked a slender arm over the table, then yanked an entire bucket of candy toward them, upending it in a colorful avalanche. “Wheeee!”

Boiled sweets, peppermints, lemon drops, sherbert bombs, candy canes, and a hundred other varieties rained down like rainbow confetti. Tassia ducked, shielding her head until the sugary barrage finally stopped. A butterscotch landed squarely in her lap.

She exhaled slowly, plucking a cinnamon sucker from her hair.

They were now sitting in the middle of a glittering minefield of candy in every color God, nature, or man–in his infinite vanity–could create.

Dolly looked inordinately pleased with herself, cramming the stout candy shaft between her moist, puffy lips as a reward.

She started moaning again, most distractingly. A line of drool ran down her chin.

Tassia took another sip of pink lemonade, suppressing a moan of her own as sunshine and cherry pie fizzled through her insides, turning them to jelly.

The room took on a roseate glow. Blood pooled in her core.

Questions… I’m supposed to be asking questions…

“Where… where are you…” Her tongue felt thick and clumsy, gumming to the roof of her mouth. She took another gulp to loosen it, then simplified. “Who are you people?”

Dolly cocked her head to one side, removing the lollipop in a long, wet shlorp!

“Like, gosh! You want the whole story? Um, okay… get comfy, sister. It’s a doozy!”

Tassia nearly sighed in relief and let herself relax, leaning back as the busty birdbrain’s cheerful prattle washed over her. It gave her a much-needed reprieve to gather her fraying thoughts.

Absently, she unwrapped a lemon drop and popped it into her mouth. The burst of citrus flavor made her shiver in delight.

“Hmmmnfff~!”

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