The Rape Club

It had taken me a long time to get here, even if “here” was a run-down condo on the edge of one of
Chicago’s suburbs. I’d talked to people, gone through search after search on the web, gathered clues,
made contacts, and shelled out money, lots and lots of money. But I was here at last. Most of the buildings
around this unit were obviously empty, shaggy yards going to weeds around their foundations, once
carefully-tended hedges now gone wild, a general air of decay about them all. Guess the bubble burst
here pretty hard I thought to myself as I walked to the front door.


Anyone who had half a brain could tell just by the door that there was something different about this unit.
The paint on the siding was just as shabby, and the yard was in no better shape, but that slick, solidly-built
metal door spoke volumes. It said, in no uncertain terms “Don’t come here unless you fuckin’ got
business here!” As I stepped up to it, I saw something up in the corner of the small overhang that
protected the door from the rain. It was a small, well-protected CCTV camera, and the shadows of the
overhang nearly made it disappear. I didn’t look directly at it, but I took note of it. Nobody, no matter how
quickly they might try to approach, was going to get in here unless they were invited…..or brought a lot of
force. Well, I didn’t have to bring force, I had an invitation.


Once, there had been a string of bells, one for each of the units inside the building. The old cover plate
was long gone now, replaced by a single plain piece of steel with an old-fashioned-looking brass doorbell
switch in its center. I pressed it, but I never heard a chime anywhere nearby. The old brass grate, and
probably the speaker that had been installed when the building had been put up where still there, though,
and that’s where I heard the only noise come from.


“Yeah, what do you want?” a disembodied and slightly bored-sounding voice spoke to me from it.


“Delivery. Sam’s Pizza and I have three pies to drop off.” I replied, giving the password I’d been given.
I waited. For a moment, I thought that something had gone wrong, that my contact had been bullshitting
me. Then I heard the buzz of the door lock being released and the voice from the grate said “Okay, come
on in.”. I did.


I didn’t go far, though. Inside, just out of sight from anyone who might be watching from the outside, stood
two men who looked like they could have played tackle on any pro football team. Behind them stood a third
man who didn’t need to be so big: he had a Browning 9MM in his hand, and while that arm was hanging at
his side, he watched me with the intent concentration of someone watching for his moment to shoot. One
of the big thugs produced a hand-held metal detector wand and went over me with practiced
thoroughness, finding nothing but my car keys and the handful of change I had in my pocket. He finished,
stepped back and motioned to the door of what had once been the managers suite.
“Go on in there, they’ll get you taken care of.” he said.


“Thanks.” I replied, turning towards the door. I watched the gunman, who kept his eyes on me, and noted
that he never relaxed, even after I’d been cleared. Not a man you want to piss off. I noted to myself.
I opened the door and stepped into what had probably once been a hall. Now, the wall had been partially
knocked down to make space for desk, it’s occupant, and the two security men who flanked him. They had
the same look as the gunman, a cold and calculating look, and while neither had a gun in sight, both had
the tell-tale bulge near their armpit that spoke of a shoulder holster. They didn’t smile, but the man at the
desk did. He had the looks for his job: a sleazy-looking weasel of a man with a face full of expensive teeth
to match the tailor-made suit he wore. He rose and extended a hand.


“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Mr. Sams and I….manage this establishment. And you are…….?” he asked.


“I’m a friend of Mr. Willis. He recommended you to me, and I hope his glowing….description of your facility
was not all flattery and fine words.” I replied as I took his hand and shook it.


Mr. Sams gave me a surprisingly firm handshake. A weasel, but one that probably still has his teeth. I
though as I let go of his hand.


“Yes, Mr. Willis is a very good friend of mine, and a valued….customer. I am so glad to hear that he trusts
you enough to have suggested the idea of paying us a visit.”
Sams sat back down at his desk and opened a large drawer on one side of it. He drew out a large
portfolio and laid it on the desk in front himself.

“I don’t know if Mr. Willis explained how thing operate, so I will tell you now so there are no……unfortunate
misunderstandings. These are photos of our….merchandise. You may look through the book and select
the….item you wish to have. If it is…unavailable, then you will have the option to select an alternative item,
or to wait until the item you want is….available.” With that, Sams slide the book to me and continued his
speech.


“Once you have made your selection and we are sure it can….be delivered, we will ask what….time frame
you wish to have the item for, and what……you are planning on doing with it. We will then tell you what this
will cost and you will pay, as there are no negotiations here. Is all of this clear?”


I nodded to let him know I understood and opened the book. Each page featured a different young woman,
and the images went from them dressed in different outfits to at least two of them completely nude. I
flipped through them slowly, admiring the selection and trying to figure out which one I wanted. Several
caught my eye as I made my first pass, and I tried to mark each page so I could go back again for a
second look. It took me three passes before I chose the woman I wanted, one labels “Angie” with long
blond hair, a slim body and what were listed as C-cup sized breasts. With the book open to her page, I
turned it around and announced “I want her. Is she available?”


Mr. Sams looked down at the picture, pulled a small book out from under the desk and examined it.
“Why, yes, she is! You’re quite lucky, she is one of our most popular items. So how long do you wish to be
with her, and what, precisely, do you intend to do with her?” he asked, a greasy smile spreading across
his face.


“I’d like, say, a couple of hours with her and as far as what I want to do…..well, I guess all holes
service….bare if I can have it.” I replied.


Now Mr. Sams’ face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry, we don’t allow bare service here except if you want oral. It’s for our
customer’s protection, after all! So, if you can live with that……” He left the question in the air, watching my
reaction.


I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t sure I was going to leave this place without some sort of problem if I didn’t want
this, so I nodded and agreed. Sams gave me a price. It wasn’t cheap, but for what I wanted…..I pulled out
my credit card and handed it over.


“I will be watching my card statement, by the way, so if there are any sudden extra ‘charges’ I can’t explain, I
will be making some calls to my card company. Do you understand me, Mr. Sams?” I said as he prepared
to swipe it.


“Oh, of course sir. I must caution, though, that are charges are usually broken up into at least three
payments. This is to keep the card company from becoming suspicious, and also to make it easier
to…..keep the billing, shall we say, less obvious?” he replied as he fed my card through the machine.


I had no problem with that, so I waited while the card cleared, then reached out for it when he was done.
Sams didn’t let it go, though. He kept a grip on it to get my attention and added a little more to the rules,
information I could have lived without having.


“There is one other thing I should tell you,sir. We monitor all our rooms here, partially because many of our
customers enjoy taking a….reminder of their time here with them. It also allows us to make sure that the
customers don’t forget to ‘protect’ themselves, and it also lets us make sure that they don’t get
too….enthusiastic, shall we say, with the merchandise. We take an extremely dim view of customers who
do things like that.” Sams leaned towards me, and the sharp-toothed weasel came back in full force. “So,
sir, if you do something that might keep the woman from being ready for her next customer, or worse, if
you mark her in any way that might distract from other customers enjoyment of her…… Well, I’ll put it to you
this way: two of my larger employees will hold you down, then I’ll find a nice, dull knife to use.