Krissy by S J Lewis

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Krissy

(S J Lewis)


Krissy

Chapter One

 

 

"C'mon, babe. Let's get it on." The man leaned heavily against Krissy. His words were slurred and his breath stank of liquor. His left arm was draped across her shoulders and his left hand groped clumsily for her breast. His right hand kept poking the keycard to his room in the general direction of the slot without ever finding its target. He was much too interested in sticking something else in another slot entirely to even notice.

"Don't be silly!" Krissy giggled girlishly as she expertly diverted his left hand with hers. She took his right hand by the thick, hairy wrist. "Here, let me help you." He let her guide him. The card slid easily into the slot and there was a click.

"See?" Krissy said brightly. "Now, when we get inside I'll help you again, you big, clumsy man."

He laughed, spraying more fumes of cheap bourbon into her face. At least he wasn't too drunk to open the door once it was unlocked, but he was close to passing out. Krissy took most of his weight as they stumbled into his suite, deftly pulling the keycard out with her manicured fingertips before she kicked the door shut behind them.

It was dark inside. The only light came from a blinking neon sign that was bright enough to filter through the heavy curtains. The man made another attempt to grope Krissy's breast, and now she let him fall heavily to the carpeted floor. He started laughing drunkenly and got up onto his hands and knees. Krissy put her foot to his backside and shoved as hard as she could. He fell forward onto his face and lay still. A moment later, he started snoring.

Krissy let out a sigh of relief. He was a big guy, over six feet tall, she guessed, going bald and going to fat. She'd been starting to worry that the combination of drinks and drugs that she'd slipped into those drinks wouldn't have the desired effect in time. Now she could be reasonably sure that he'd sleep until sometime tomorrow afternoon. He'd be feeling pretty damned bad when he woke up. She smiled and gave his leg another kick. He didn't move. Good. Time to get to work. She pulled a pair of surgical gloves out of her purse, pulled them on, and started going through his pockets.

His wallet yielded up a couple of hundred bucks in cash and two credit cards. She didn't bother looking at his driver's license. She already knew what he looked like, and he'd already told her his first name. She didn't care to know him any better than she already did. She pocketed the cash and cards and stuffed the wallet back into his hip pocket.

It took a lot of effort to roll him over onto his back, but it was part of the job. She went through his other pockets, turning up some loose change that she left where she'd found it, another hundred bucks in twenties that he'd put in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and a nametag for a local convention. She let him keep the nametag.

The next thing to do was go through his luggage. That rarely turned up anything valuable, although there were occasional nice little items - and this time was no exception. She wasn't even that surprised when she found a pair of handcuffs stashed away inside a sock. Had he been planning to use them on her, or have her use them on him? Well, it didn't matter now. She put his luggage back in the disorder she'd found it and went back to him.

She didn't really care for what came next, but it had worked for her pretty well so far, so she might as well keep on doing it. She unbuckled his pants, unzipped them, and shucked them down as far as she could. Then she pulled his boxers down too, baring his hairy crotch. When he woke up, even with the terrible hangover and headache he was sure to have, he'd probably think that he'd gotten lucky with the cutie he'd picked up at the bar after all. That could buy her a little more time. Now to muddy the waters, for if and when the police investigated. She doubted that it would be a priority for them. Out-of-town drunks getting rolled wasn't as attention-getting as bank robberies or carjackings, but why take chances? Wiping the keycard came first.

She took a baggie out of her big handbag. Inside it were some long brown hairs she'd surreptitiously gathered at a beauty salon in a poorer part of the city. She dropped a couple of them on her mark and a few more she scattered around the room. That done, she put the baggie back in her handbag.

Getting the long brown wig off of her head took a moment. She had to do it carefully or her own shorter blonde hair would be disheveled enough for someone to notice. The wig went into her bag, but not until after she'd pulled out a folded blouse. It was a neutral beige color and a little bit too large for her. She put it on over the halter-top that drew men's attention to her tits so that they didn't pay all that much attention to her face. The guy on the floor probably didn't even know what color her eyes were. She tucked the blouse into the waistband of her tan skirt. Last of all, she took off the strappy heels she'd been wearing, stuffed them into her handbag, pulled out the nice, comfortable running shoes she'd stashed in there and slipped them on her feet. There. The transformation was complete. Men might remember seeing a busty woman with long brown hair with her mark, if anyone asked them, but none of them would connect that woman with the shorter, less provocatively dressed blonde one who slipped quietly out of the hotel some time later. It was extremely unlikely that anyone would remember her handbag, either. She'd gotten it because it was a handy size for her work, but it was a nondescript, inexpensive, mass-produced thing that lots of other women carried.

She walked out of the hotel without being noticed or challenged. Another job successfully done, another lecherous, middle-aged man who got no less than what was coming to him. He hadn't even tried to hide that fact that he was married by taking off his wedding ring before he'd started hitting on her.

She walked a couple of blocks before hailing a cab. This part of the city was just starting to go to seed, but it was still safe enough to walk in the evenings. After midnight, though, nobody in their right mind would be outside in this locale. She had the taxi drop her off a block away from the local tavern she was headed for, at a spot where there were several other places she could go to. Once the taxi had crawled away out of sight in the late traffic, she let herself breathe a sigh of relief before heading to the Moonlight Tavern. This part of the city was mixed commercial and lower-income residential, and there were still plenty of people outside enjoying the early Fall evening. Krissy ignored them, as they ignored her, and went into the bar. It was dimly lit inside, smelling of beer and liquor. She walked past the half-dozen patrons seated at the bar and straight to the back of the room. There were some booths there, hard, bare wooden benches facing each other across hard, bare, battered dark wooden tables. She went to one and slid onto the bench across from Tito. Tito was always here. Maybe he owned the place, but it didn't matter to her one way or the other.

"Hey, girl," he looked up and smiled as he recognized her. "You got somethin' for me?" He was anywhere between forty and sixty, the light brown skin on his face, deeply creased and scarred just above his left eye. His pencil mustache always annoyed her, but she'd learned to ignore it, just as she'd learned to ignore the three gold teeth that showed when he smiled.

"A couple of cards," she replied. "You want them now?"

"Depends," Tito shrugged. "How long they good for?"

"Probably until noon tomorrow," Krissy answered. "Maybe a little longer."

"Eh," Tito shrugged again. "Yeah, slip 'em over. I'll see what I can get with 'em. Ten percent still good for you?"

"Ten percent of the gross," Krissy said. "You shorted me last time." She pulled the credit cards out of her handbag and passed them to Tito under the table. As always, Tito held her hand for a moment before he took the cards and let go.

"Told you that was a misunderstanding by one of my guys," Tito grinned. "He won't be doin' that again."

"And you still owe me," Krissy said as she leaned back, unsmiling.

"Aw, babe, don't be like that," Tito chuckled. "I swear, I make it all up to you with the next payday. Deal?"

"Deal," Krissy replied after a moment. "And you'd better keep your word. There are other guys I could deal with."

"But we make such good business partners," Tito chuckled. He lifted his tiny espresso cup and sipped from it.

"We're not partners," Krissy corrected him. She started to go.

"Hey, hey, hey, babe, why the hurry?" Tito reached out but didn't quite touch her. "Stay a minute. Have a drink. Compliments of the house."

"Why?" Krissy demanded, but she sat back down.

"I like you," Tito smiled. "You know, you could make a lot more by working for me, especially with that cute girl-next-door face and that hot little body of yours. Don't you get tired of rollin' drunks in cheap hotels?"

"Not interested," Krissy smiled back nastily. "You aren't going to whore me out. And you know I like girls anyway. So forget it."

"Can't blame me for tryin'," Tito shrugged as she got up again. "Come see me in a couple days. I'll have your money."

"You'd better," Krissy called back over her shoulder as she walked away.

Once outside of the bar she turned right and kept walking. It always bothered her when Tito gave her that greasy smile and that tired old pitch about going to work for him. She had no doubts that she could make a lot more money that way, but the thought of being one of his call girls and whoring herself out to men turned her stomach. Men, with their hairy bodies and flabby bellies and bad breath and groping hands...ugh! It was getting a little tiresome occasionally 'rolling drunks in cheap hotels', even if those hotels were not really all that cheap, just three-star instead of five-star, but it more than paid the bills and at least she could pick and choose her marks and be the one in control. It was far more lucrative to pick her targets at more upscale locales, but those places had too many security cameras that worked, as well as actual security personnel. It took a lot of work and planning to get in and out of one of those, but the rewards, and the thrill, were a lot greater. In between those jobs she kept hitting low-profile targets in low-profile places. She ought to be able to keep this up for years. And by the time she was getting too old to play the game anymore, she should have more than enough saved up to buy that little place out West that she'd been thinking of, and live quite comfortably into her old age. But that day was a long time away, and in the meantime she enjoyed planning her moves, laying her traps and rolling her marks.

Anyway, her business was done, and she had the rest of the night to herself. She felt like celebrating, but Linda's shift at the hospital wouldn't be over for hours, and she would get back to her apartment tired and cranky, so there was no point in calling her. That relationship was coming to an end anyway. Krissy considered her other possibilities. She always had some. The city drew people from all over, many of them young and naïve. The more naïve they were, the more desperate they became after a while. There were a number of places that existed to give those desperate people a meal and a place to sleep. Krissy made a point of donating to a couple of those shelters from time to time so that she was actually welcomed if she happened to drop in. There was one girl she knew of at one of those shelters: Amy. Amy was fresh off the farm, and of legal age, if barely. Krissy had been feeling her out for a couple of weeks now, and it was time to make her move. There was a small park just across the street from the shelter, and Amy often hung out there. Krissy turned her steps in that direction. She always felt like celebrating after one of her jobs, and the prospect of doing that with a new girl excited her.

Amy was there, sitting alone on a park bench. She smiled when she saw Krissy coming towards her.

"Hey, good to see you!" Amy slid a little to one side, inviting Krissy to sit next to her. Krissy accepted the invitation.

"Hi," Krissy smiled at the younger girl. "You had your supper yet?"

"No," Amy shook her head. She was wearing her tawny brown hair in a ponytail tonight, and it swayed back and forth appealingly. "It's kinda crowded tonight."

"Well, how about coming with me?" Krissy suggested. "My treat."

Amy laughed nervously. "I'm not really dressed for it," she said. Krissy took in the worn jeans, battered sneakers and faded flannel shirt.

"Nonsense," she said. "You look fine."

"But...if I get back too late there won't be a bed for me," Amy said.

Krissy leaned closer, looking into Amy's big brown eyes. "My place isn't crowded," she said, her voice low and purring. "I'll put you up for the night."

Amy looked at her for a long, long moment. Krissy could see the confusion in her eyes, the uncertainty, the curiosity, even a little bit of fear. She leaned a bit closer still and put her hand on Amy's.

"Come on," she smiled. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do."

Amy looked over at the shelter and then back at Krissy. This was the moment of truth. As much as she wanted Amy to come with her and spend the night, Krissy knew better than to push too hard.

"Well," Amy swallowed and licked her lips. She didn't pull her hand away. "I guess," she said at last.

"Well, then," Krissy's smile softened. "Let's go. What would you like for supper? I'm in the mood for some Chinese myself." She let go of Amy's hand and stood up.

"That sounds good," Amy nodded nervously. She also stood. She was a couple of inches taller than Krissy, slender where Krissy was voluptuous. Krissy was already imagining what the younger girl looked like naked. Inwardly, she was celebrating. From this point on, unless she screwed it up somehow, Amy's seduction was assured.