I walk to the door and open it, turning away before I can even register his presence. There is a single rap on the door and the blonde girl barely looks up. I sit on a high-backed chair alongside the bed and wait. She picks up her trilby hat and pops it on her short, fluffy blonde locks at a jaunty angle.
Her blonde head is propped up on a pillow and she stares at the wall, fingers drumming on the bed, more in boredom than anticipation. Up in the room, she lies on the bed, naked other than her long, red opera gloves and short ankle boots. I leave the salon privé, dragging my companion with me. I take a final pull on my holder and let out the smoke slowly and provocatively in his direction before turning on my heel. I take the hand of the blonde girl and she rises, never looking back at the table. I stand and smooth down the hem of my orange paisley mini-dress that barely covers my modesty. I retrieve my key, this time letting him clearly see the room number. He gathers the chips in his crooked arm and reels them in. The croupier deals and announces that Monsieur is the victor. I drop the key along with the chips and wait for the inevitable. She reaches for the ashtray and stubs it out with a shrug of her shoulders and turns to me with a small nod. Smoke curls up from her cigarette, also in a holder and held between gloved fingers. She gazes back, barely a flicker of emotion on her pretty face. He slowly shakes his head, then points first to the little blonde girl on my left, then to me. A gasp goes up from the others around the table as they realise my intent. I pull out my room key and hold it up, the number on the long tag obscured behind my hand. I clamp the holder between my teeth and open the clasp of my handbag. It is not enough to match his bet, as I am fully aware.
I take another drag on the Sobranie and push my much smaller stack into the centre of the table. The rest have folded and I may not know much, but I know that I should fold as well. Smoke curls up from my pursed lips and he stares at me impassively as he pushes his pile of chips into the centre of the table. I pull on my holder and the tip of the long, black cigarette glows red. As my eyes smoulder into his across the green baize of the card table, he can be under no illusions as to what that purpose is. I am here for one purpose and one purpose alone. It must be obvious to the rest of the table that I haven't a clue what I am doing. I take off my sunglasses and suck ruminatively on the stem, studying my cards. This is a follow-up to my recent Sur La Mer story but can be read standalone as it does give the back story as to how we got to this point.
Willing victim porn movie#
Danica and Keren finish recording their latest porn movie and are kidnapped by persons unknown.