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Corrupting Lisa, Chapter 5 [all plot, no sex]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This is a fictional story which has included elements of teenage
sex with an adult, non-consensual sex, and other manner of things
which you as a decent God-fearing individual may find highly
offensive, although in all fairness I must say that nary a hint of
sexually inappropriate behavior appears in this chapter. In light
of this, please do not continue to read unless you want to.
The text of the _Corrupting Lisa_ story, to include chapters I've
posted thus far and those yet to be written, are hereby placed in
the public domain. I retain no rights whatsoever to this story and
its associated characters. The public is invited to do with it as
they will.
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Chapter 6.
In Which I Discover That I Have Made Quite An Impression on Nina
and Tracy Is Hoist By Someone's Petard
Although it couldn't do any good at all, I drove on in to
work. I got there about fifteen minutes before the mall stores
began closing; as an anchor store, Nordstorm's, as was typical,
stayed open a half hour longer. I came in through the one door
from which employees were allowed entrance and egress, and hied my
way quickly to my department, then on back into the receiving area
that had been the start of this too-complex drama. I frantically -
and futilely - checked the little area where I stored the camera,
and discovered absolutely nothing. No tape, no cryptic note, no
inadvertently dropped matchbook from the club that would turn out
to be run by an old freedom fighter who would reluctantly join my
quest for the lost treasure of the Sierra Madras. Good stuff only
happens in the movies. Frustrated and more than a little worried,
I was on my way back out when I nearly bumped into Nina. I
remembered Nina's well-timed exit for a cigarette that fateful day;
in a sense, it was she that was responsible for the whole chain of
events now unfolding.
"Oh! Steve!" She looked at me strangely. "I didn't know you
were working tonight."
"Not. Uh, not working, that is. I just came in to pick up
some stuff."
"Oh. And did you find your stuff?"
Hello? "What do you mean, 'Did I find my stuff?' Who said it
was lost?" Whoa, down, boy. You're reacting when you should be
calm. And you were just thinking how bad a poker player young Lisa
would be! Well, always room to be humble.
"Oh, no one. I just thought.... you might have lost
something." She smirked. This was odd for a number of reasons.
Nina, except for conning me into doing her little favors every now
and again, paid very little attention to me. The fact that we were
having a conversation of this length was out of character. And the
smirk was a new trick, too. It didn't take Hercule Poirot to make
the assumption that she knew something about the missing tape.
When in doubt, attack. "Well, now that you mention it... I am
missing some property. Some *private* property. Would you know
anything about it?"
"I might."
Wonderful. I'm playing guessing games with a third grader.
"And when *might* you say for sure."
She looked at me. "Oh, Steve, you just loooove to tell people
what to do, don't you?"
Oh, shit. "Sometimes."
"I bet you just hate it when someone tells *you* what to do,
don't you?"
"It's not my favorite position to be in," I replied calmly.
"Well, Mr. Private Property. Meet me at the bar at Olive
Garden" (a mall restaurant) "at 10:00. We can discuss your
private....property." She favored me with another little smirk,
then turned on her heel and left.
Oh, shit, doubled and redoubled.
When I was seventeen, two friends and I, drunk on Milwaukee's
Best, climbed the fence into a state truck yard and stole, for some
gawdawful reason, about fifty stop signs. We jammed them all in
the back of my beat-up pickup truck and got about two miles away
when a Houston deputy sheriff pulled us over. I remember watching
him walk up to the truck, sending his flashlight beam over our
besotted faces and the stack of stop signs in the back, and I
remember the feeling of absolute panic, the sense of being caught
with nowhere to run.
That ain't nuthin'. Suddenly, the game part of this thing was
in abeyance. That stupid tape could send me to jail! What, what
was I thinking of! I raged at myself for leaving the camera so
carelessly out. I had jeopardized everything, and for what?
Idiocy!
I castigated myself in like fashion until 10:00, which hour
found me seated at the bar at Olive Garden, as instructed. I had
a simple game plan: play along with everything until I could get my
hands on that tape. Then watch out. I'd be a puppet if need be -
but a puppet with teeth.
Nina came sauntering in at 10:15. Punctuality is a lost art.
Actually, I knew exactly what she was doing, having done it myself
in no small measure over the past couple of weeks. She was setting
the tone, establishing that she made the rules and could ignore
them as she pleased. Let her play her games.
"Hope you didn't mind waiting," she said breezily. She was
wearing a white linen skirt and a cream colored blouse, with a
natty paisley vest. The costume did little to conceal a beautiful
body: full, rich breasts, a narrow waist, and lovely hips. Her
short brown hair framed a vaguely Nordic face, with high cheekbones
that suggested an ancestor that had sailed with Eric the Red
several hundred generations ago. Even in flats, she could look me
in the eye. I reminded myself not to be intimidated.
"Not at all," I said. "Let's grab a table."
"I'll decide what we do."
I looked at her calmly. "Very well."
She paused for a moment, realizing that the bar was no place
for a private conversation, and made a small moue of disgust. "OK,
let's get a table."
I suppressed a smile. She was trying, but didn't quite know
how to be effective in her chosen role. As we walked to the table,
I studied her without being obvious about it. She seemed to be
both nervous and aggressive, in equal measure. Her attention,
which should have been on me, trying to read my reactions, was
instead more on herself, as though she were about to go on stage
opening night and wanted to make sure she remembered her lines.
We were seated by a properly perky waitress, who asked for our
drink order. I asked for a dry Stoli's martini with a twist, and
Nina ordered a rum collins. Miss Perky seemed thrilled at our
choices, and bounced happily away. We stared at each other for a
moment, then she said, "Now...about this 'property' of yours. I'd
like to ask you some questions about it - you know, to have you
properly identify it."
"Look," I said, "I don't know what you're driving at, here,
but if you do have my...my item, I'd appreciate it if you'd simply
return it and save me some embarrassment here."
"That's a big favor to ask, coming from a guy who likes to
order people around when he has the upper hand, isn't it?" She
smiled dangerously at me, beginning to feel in control again. OK,
the 'I'm embarrassed' ploy wasn't going to fly.
"I..." I was interrupted by the arrival of our drinks, in
record time. Nina, looking superior, handed over bills to pay for
the drinks. We declined to order food for the time being, and our
waitress bopped away again.
"Nina," I began as soon as we were alone again, "I bet you
have a roundabout speech worked out. I bet we'll take ten minutes
to get to the bottom line here if we do it your way. But I like to
be direct about things." I paused for a sip of my drink. In the
midst of disaster, a good martini was still a good martini. "So -
here's what I think. I think you found the video camera I borrowed
from electronics, back in the receiving area. I think you watched
the tape. I think that since nobody's sworn out a warrant for my
arrest just yet, you've got some idea about using the tape to get
something you want." I paused again. "Well, what do you want?"
Nina frowned. This wasn't going at all as she'd envisioned,
I was sure. She leaned back in the booth and stared at me, then
said, "Well, I *might* be persuaded to let you off the hook, if.."
"Hey, cut the shit," I interrupted harshly. "I don't have
time for the coy 'I might' this and 'Maybe' that. We both know
what's going on here. So lay it out: what do you want?" Madness?
Perhaps. But if nothing else I was an expert on gaining the upper
hand. I sensed that if I took this initiative right now, we'd not
later have to bully each other to figure out who was in charge -
especially as she had an extremely big club with which to hit me,
and I had nothing at all to use on her. But what better time to
attack than when you're hopelessly outnumbered?
Nina looked puzzled. Her script, such as it was, was not
working at all. She seemed to be trying to think it through; why
was she on the defensive? Her contemplation apparently yielded no
answers, for she shook her head slightly, then leaned forward.
"Have you...done stuff like that before?" Her tone was
conspiratorial. We're not enemies any more, we're in this
together. Better and better.
"Not really, no. I just... saw an opportunity and I took it."
She looked disappointed. "Oh. Then you don't have other...
opportunities lined up somewhere?"
"Why do you ask?"
She perked up a bit at the noncommittal answer. "Well..." she
glanced around as if making sure nobody else was in earshot, "I was
thinking that if..." her voiced lowered dramatically "...if I
could, uh, participate in your next opportunity, then I'd give you
back your tape and we'd be square." She looked intently at me,
remembering her lines. "And if not, then I'd have to turn this
tape in to the cops and cause you all sorts of agg..." I stopped
her with a shooshing motion of my hands.
This was out of the blue. I had always viewed Nina as an
good-looking but unattainable babe. And while 'attaining' wasn't
in this offer, to be sure, it was a definite twist to my
preconceived notion of her. Of course, I knew something was funky
when she wanted this private meeting, but still... What are the
odds, I asked myself? Fate delivers a tasty package to me, and by
the greatest of good luck I turn a one-shot encounter into an
ongoing project. Now this! Hmmm. Well, as strange as such
happenstance are, I reasoned, it would be far more strange if such
events *never* occurred. But how to play it?
"Well, Nina... I might be able to do something for you in that
area. But it would definitely take some time to set up. It can be
done, though." She was looking very eager. Are there no good
poker players left in the world? "But there's a problem."
"What?"
"I don't work well under pressure. And I won't start anything
until you put that tape in my hand. And it better be soon. But
once you do, I promise to set up an - encounter - that will
reasonably meet your expectations."
"No way. Forget it! Why should you do anything once you have
the tape?"
I let my eyes flash fire as I grabbed her hand, hard. "Two
reasons," I said, "both very compelling. One: I *said* I would.
Two: you can still use the information on the tape, if you're so
moved." I squeezed her hand tighter, and she grimaced with pain.
"The girl's name and phone number were on the tape. Write those
down, if you wish." I tightened my grip even more. "But I'm not
going to make the classic blackmailee's error. You give a little,
and they want more. And then more. So I stop, right now. Give me
the goddamned tape."
"Ow...you're hurting me!" This was said sotto voce in an
effort to keep from attracting attention from the tables around us.
"Sorry," I replied, and did not slacken one bit in the effort.
"Ow! OK! Ouch!" This was a bit louder, but as soon as she
said 'OK', I released her. "God, you didn't have to do..."
"Hey! You're bothering the lady!" This voice came from
behind me. Some would-be hero had noticed Nina's distress and come
to rescue her. I stood up slowly. Hero had two or three inches
and about twenty pounds on me, but I let the crazy light peek out
of my eyes as I stepped into his space. He backed up.
"Be careful I don't decide to bother you next," I said softly.
"Oh," he said in a small voice.
Nina's voice came from behind me. "No, no, it's all right, we
were just playing around." Hero was grateful for the excuse to
vanish, and did so.
I sat down again. When I thought about this scene later, I
was sure I'd be amazed at my foolhardiness, but now the control
freak was in full charge of me, and I could do no wrong. She was
staring at me. "What?"
She shook her head slightly. "Nothing." She paused, then
said, "Look, do you swear - *swear* - that you'll stick to your end
of the bargain if I give you the tape back?"
"If my simple word isn't good enough, is my solemn oath
better?"
She compressed her lips together, as though she was readying
herself to dive into the deep end of the pool, then reached in her
purse and pulled out a tape that I recognized quite well. She held
it out to me, and I took it before she could change her mind. I
nodded to her, then stood up and said, "C'mon - I'll walk you to
the car."
She rose, and I led us out of mall. As soon as we were away
from the mall entrance, I said, "This will take me about three
weeks to set up. Be patient."
"You're really going to do it?"
I suppressed a surge of anger. "I told you I would. Don't
ask stupid questions."
"But... you're going to set it up *right*?"
I stopped and turned to face her. "I plan to. But if you
want something that's not immediately obvious, you let me know.
I'm picturing a situation in which you have some power over a
young..." I looked at her questioningly "girl?" She nodded
emphatically. "...girl, and can bend her to your will. No pain,
no restraints, nothing like that."
"Well... "
"What?"
"*Some* pain would be OK."
Wow. "Nina, I never would have guessed!" I said snidely.
"Me? I wasn't the one who..."
I silenced her with a motion. "Let's not start this line of
chat, shall we?" I said pleasantly.
I resumed my trek towards the parking area that Nordstrom's
people used. She followed silently for a moment, then asked, "And
you'll just...do this?"
"Nina," I said, "ever read those stories about the genie who
gives a guy three wishes? He wishes for a sausage by mistake, then
he wishes for the sausage to be stuck to his wife's nose, and then
he has to burn the third wish getting it off her nose?" I paused.
"I would have left it on her nose."
She looked confused. "I don't..." she began.
"I'll always do what I promise; let's leave it at that."
We had reached my car. I opened the door and started to get
in. "Wait a sec. My car's over there," she said, pointing ahead
several rows.
"So?"
"I thought you were going to walk me to my car?"
"Nope. I said I'd walk you to the car. This car. Which I
have." I sat down and began to close the door, then peered out at
her. "Good night." And I started up and drove off as she stood
staring blankly after me.
I got as far as the freeway before the shakes set in, and I
had to pull off the road for a moment. This had been a very close
call, and it was far from over. But even as my body trembled with
pent-up tension finally released, I was working on a way to keep my
promise.
It wasn't too much later before I was cruising past the
darkened windows of Tracy's house, on a detour that I had wanted to
take. I let the car glide to a halt in front of the modest home,
and stared at her house, trying to imagine her inside. Finally I
pulled away, heading towards home and sleep. "Tracy," I murmured
to myself, "I think we should start seeing other people."
Chapter 7.
In Which Tracy And I Explore Our Relationship, and
Lisa Has A Birthday
(...ok, apologies. alt.sex.stories, and not a hint of sex! but
alas, the story needed to be brought along a bit, and i didn't see
a place for humping here, so not a hump you will find. hang in
there. chapter 7 will more than make up for the dry spell above.
comments, as ever, are welcome ...)
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