Team Spirit: The Second Half Ch 30-34 free porn video

TEAM SPIRIT: THE SECOND HALF By Meps98 CHAPTER THIRTY Everything has been pretty normal at the club this week, particularly after the drama from last week. The honeymoon period from my return is starting to wear off. The crowd is still paying attention during my sets, but their reaction is not as lusty. Unfortunately, there is still a line to have sex with me most days, but it isn't as long. Everyone is starting to fall back into old routines, which is good and bad. I can handle the old routines, I just wish to God that I didn't have to. Anthony called me to his office after my last set that Monday evening. I had not dressed yet so I was just wearing a robe and my heels. I hadn't had my daily dose yet either. Recently he had been giving me the bottled semen, but he had that look in his eyes tonight. "Come in Honey, have a seat." I sit in the chair opposite of his desk. He stands up, walks around to the front of the desk and sits on the edge in front of me, one foot on the floor. He towers over me. I look up at him. He is leering at me, checking out the cleavage exposed by my partially open robe. I start to close the robe but he stops me. "No Honey, leave the robe as is." He pauses for a moment, slips off the desk, walks around behind me and grabs the collar of the robe. "On second thought, why don't you take it off. Slip your arms out." "Yes, Sir." I don't look up at him, just shrug the robe off my shoulders and wriggle my arms out of the sleeves. He pulls the robe up and I raise my self off the chair as the robe slides past my ass and up my back. He walks back in front of me, tosses the robe into the corner of the office and returns to the edge of his desk. I want to cross my arms in front of my breasts but I know Anthony did this to both embarrass me and get a good look at my tits and pussy, so I leave my arms on the arm rests. My nipples are swollen. I hate to admit it but I'm getting turned on just sitting here naked, though it's mostly because I haven't had my daily dose of his semen yet. "There, isn't that better Honey?" "Yes, Sir." "Sometimes I forget what a fine looking bitch you are Honey. Spread those beautiful legs." I open my legs as wide as the chair lets me. My pussy is getting wet in anticipation. "Yes, a fine looking bitch. A hot little bitch too, aren't you Honey?" He's trying to embarrass me again but I'm starting not to care. "Yes, Sir." "Yes, Sir what?" "Yes, Sir, I'm a hot little bitch." We've played this game before and I know how it ends. I get what I need, in more ways than one. I give him a crooked little smile and slide my hips forward in the seat of the chair, thrusting my pussy at him. He chortles. "Don't worry Honey, we'll get to that in a few minutes but I need to tell you a couple of things first. The Doc has decided to make some changes." Uh-oh. "She's going to remove your addiction to my jiz. We've all asked her to do it at one time or another and now it's finally happening." YES! "There's a trade off here. Nobody trusts you to stay put, so Bob has some kind of tracking device that is going to be implanted in you so that I can find you anywhere you go." What? Bob did what? "Excuse me Sir, did you say that it was Bob's idea to stick something in me so that I can't run away?" Anthony grins at me. "Yeah, ain't that a kick in the head. It was all his idea, though I doubt Doc Hanson would have agreed to get rid of the addiction if he hadn't come up with this plan. I got to tell you, I really can't figure this guy out." "Me neither, Sir." I glumly respond. How could he do this? I finally get Amy to release me from being biologically chained to Anthony and he comes up with a different kind of chain. I ought to kick him in the balls. "The Doc has decided to do the operation tomorrow and I'm taking you over there tonight so you can get ready. She's also going to do your six month tune up at the same time, kill two birds with one stone. Since this is the last night we'll have together under the old rules ..." He unzips his pants and steps towards me. My head is level with his crotch. "... I've decided to do it old style tonight. Blow me and make it good." I look up at him. His mouth is smiling but his eyes aren't. "Yes, Sir." I gently pull his semi-hard cock from his pants and suckle its' head while stroking it with my left hand. I undo his belt with my right hand, dropping his pants to his ankles. I begin massaging his big balls with my right hand as I alternate licking and stroking the full length of his now rigid cock. After the bad news he just gave me, I wasn't too enthusiastic about this at the start, but I really need to get him off. I haven't had a taste for almost twenty four hours. He reaches down and pinches my nipple. I moan around the cock stuffed in my mouth. He doesn't usually do anything during blow jobs. He pinches harder and I moan again. I start to take him down my throat, bobbing up and down, an inch at a time, swirling his shaft with my tongue. He gives my nipple a twist. I squeal and moan at the same time. He laughs and slides to the left, so he can reach both tits. I keep swallowing his cock as he massages my boobs and rubbing my nipples, forcing more moans from me. I just get his entire cock down my throat, my nose buried in his crotch, when he twists both nipples hard. I squeal again, breaking my rhythm and start to choke. Laughing, he gives another double nipple twist but this time I'm ready. It hurts like hell but doesn't shock me, so I keep my rhythm going. He begins thrusting his hips in time with my bobbing, it looks like he's getting ready to blow his wad but then he suddenly stops. "Come on Honey, I've got another idea. Get up." I let his cock slide from my mouth and stand up. He steps out of his pants, walks around to the front of the desk, opens a drawer, picks up something and tosses them on the desk top. "Put these on." There are two black metal paper clamps on the desk. I look up at him. "Take those and clamp your nipples." I pick one up, squeeze it open, and attach it to my swollen left nipple. The sharp pain makes me wince and my eyes water. "Hurry up Honey, I don't want to lose this woodie." Anthony is standing there, stroking his dick. I blink several times to clear my eyes and do the same thing to my right nipple. The pain is just as intense and sharp. He comes around to my side of the desk, reaches up and pulls both clamps. "AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!" My knees buckle but he doesn't let go. I fight to stay upright, to remove the tension on my tortured nipples. Regaining my balance, I slowly straighten up, my teeth clenched. Anthony still hasn't let go of the clamps. He lowers his head to my eye-level, stares deeply into my eyes, and twists the clamps again. On a scale of one to ten ... it's an eleven. My legs go wobbly but I don't go down. Anthony is laughing like a maniac. "Very good Honey. You're one tough bitch." He lets go of the clamps, grabs my waist, spins me around and pushes me face down on the desk. My ass is up in the air. He smacks it several times with his open palm. I cry out in both pain and surprise. He kicks my legs apart, grabs my hips and plunges his cock to the hilt into my wet pussy. I groan loudly, can't help myself. He pulls back and slams me again. "OOOOOHHHHHHHGGGGGNNNNN" "Like that eh Honey?" He starts pounding away at me. "I've heard what you've been telling the other girls about Bob." He smacks my ass again." That he's the best lover that you've ever had." SMACK "That no man can match him." SMACK "Well what do you say now?" SMACK "Who's your Daddy?" SMACK "Who's better, me or Bob?" SMACK "Who's better, huh?" He's driving his cock into me like a mad man, pushing me into the desk, my weight pressing my clamped nipples onto the hard surface, each thrust generating new pain. God help me, I'm so hot right now. SMACK. My pussy juices are trickling down my legs. "Who's better, Honey? Tell me who's better, me or Bob?" I've got to say something or he may kill me. "You are Sir ... You are." "I'm what?" "You are the best lover, I've ... I've ever had." I need him to keep screwing me, need it so bad. "OOohhhHH FUCK Me, Sir. Fuck me hard please!!" SMACK. "That's right Honey! I am the best! I'm the best there's ever been and don't you forget it! SMACK. Here's your reward!" He lift's my legs off the ground, impaling me on his cock and shoots his cum deep into my cunt. The spurting of his cock triggers my orgasm and I wriggle and squirm in the air. I can't feel the pain in my breasts or my ass. Right now, all I feel are waves of pleasure running through my body. Anthony puts me down and pulls out of my pussy. I fall off the desk and collapse on the floor then look up at Anthony. He's wiping his cock off with my robe, a smug, satisfied look on his face. He throws the robe at my feet. "Once you've recovered from being screwed by the world's greatest sex machine, go back to your room and get dressed. We need to get to the clinic by 11:00 p.m." He sits in his chair. "Make sure you tell all your girlfriends about tonight." I push my upper body off the floor, bracing myself with my arms locked. "Do you want me to tell Bob too ... Sir?" His eyes quickly grow large with fear, his mouth slightly open. The idiot hadn't thought about that. "No! Ahhh ... No Honey, we probably shouldn't bother Bob about this ... In fact, you shouldn't tell anybody. This is just between you and me, OK?" There is desperation in his voice. And on his face. "Yes, Sir. You know how good I am at keeping secrets." "Yeah ... yeah, thanks. Hurry up and get ready." I slowly stand, reach up, unclip the clamps from my nipples and toss them on Anthony's desk. My nipples are numb right now but that won't last. They are going to swell up and hurt like hell within the hour. Amy will see them, but would probably enjoy the story, so I'll tell her as little as possible. Not a good start to the evening. * * ** * ** * ** * * Honey wasn't very forthcoming when I asked about the bruising on her ass and nipples. I assume that it was one of my "special customers". I must remember to ask Anthony for the video. Whoever it was, it appears that he really worked her over. I'll certainly enjoy watching that one. Right now, she is unconscious on the table in the operating theater next door. I am waiting for Bob's tracker to be sterilized and then will begin. Unfortunately, Bob's tracker comes with Bob. He insists on being present during the operation. "Somehow, Mr. James, I do not think you trust me." He is gowned and slipping on a pair of gloves. "On the contrary Doctor, this is one of the areas in which I trust you completely. Your expertise greatly exceeds mine when it comes to medical procedures. However, I have seen this operation performed three times in person and you have only watched a video. I may be able to provide some useful information should there be any problems." "This procedure is similar to others involving implanting medical devices. There is no reason to think that there will be any problems." "Very glad to hear that Doctor. However, it is always best to have all options available. I will do or say nothing unless you ask for my input. What is the harm?" "There is no harm, I just prefer to follow my normal routines which does not include kibitzers in the theater." I do not plan on any funny business during the operation, it is the principle of him not trusting me. "I assure you, Doctor, I will be there only as a resource. I would never presume to tell you your business. Even if you had some nefarious plan, it would be unlikely that I would recognize it." He is probably correct about that. I hand him a mask. "Alright, you can watch but do not get in my way or disturb me. You may not believe it but I do not want any mistakes either. I want Honey to have a long, healthy and painful life. Let's get started." We both don our masks then step into the operating room. It is smaller than ones you would find in your average hospital, but it is well equipped and adequate for my purposes today. Honey's vital signs are stable and the anesthesiologist, who is a friend of mine, indicates she is ready. Connors is assisting me. I step up to the table, take a deep cleansing breathe and make a three inch incision in her lower abdomen. Just as I expected, the operation is mostly routine. The most difficult part was running the wire antenna down her left leg. Bob kept his word and remained silent the entire time. He did move around a bit, keeping his eyes on the incision and her vital signs. It has only been forty five minutes since the first cut, not bad for a procedure I've never done before. Everything appears to be in place. "I am ready to close now. How are her vitals?" Before I get my answer, Bob interrupts. "Doctor, I believe ..." "Mr. James, you assured me that you would keep quiet. If you can't keep you promises, you will need to leave right now." "I understand Doctor. Sorry. Before I leave, I do have one brief suggestion." "And what is that?" "You might want to turn the device on before you close. Just a suggestion. However, you are the professional, I am sure you know best." I can't see the smirk on his face but I can see it in his eyes. I managed a near perfect operation from a procedural stand point but forgot to turn the damn thing on. He better not try to lord this over me. "Thank you, Mr. James. I will take your suggestion under advisement." I reach in and push the panel that controls the tracker. It beeps three times to indicate that it is functioning. Bob reaches into his pocket, removes the receiver, checks the screen and signals thumbs up. I close up the incision quickly but carefully. I do not want to leave a scar and the injections that will follow should prevent that. Within fifteen minutes, Honey is wheeled into her cell to recover. * * ** * ** * ** * * I can't get my eyes to open. They aren't stuck or anything, they just won't open, like they've forgotten how. I am breathing, so I concentrate on that for awhile. Everything feels fuzzy, unfocused. Eventually my head clears a little and my eyelids slowly open. Ah yes, there's no place like home. I'm back in my cell at the clinic, laying on a gurney. My arms and legs feel heavy, too heavy for me to lift them. I can turn my head a little but there is nothing to see. I close my eyes again and return to my breathing. Deep breaths. I hear a door open and someone is now standing next to me. They touch my wrist, checking my pulse. I don't bother to look, just keep breathing. I feel the jab of a needle in my arm, doesn't really hurt. Whoever it is leaves, closing the door behind them. I think I hear a lock click shut. Deep breaths. I don't know how long it's been but things are clearer, sharper now. I'm wearing one of those backless paper hospital gowns. I can move my arms but they are strapped down to the gurney, same with my legs. I can sit up a little but that makes my left side hurt. The door opens again and I twist my head around to see who it is. It's Amy. She doesn't say anything, just lifts the edge of the bandage on my left side, looking underneath. She pulls a white device from her lab coat pocket and sticks it in my ear. After a few seconds, it beeps. She removes it, looks at it and returns it to her pocket. "Well Honey, your temp is normal so we appear to have avoided any infections, which is no small thing in this day and age." She checks my pulse and then my chest with her stethoscope. "All your vitals seem fine. You've been strapped down to keep you from moving around too much. We don't want you tearing any stitches." I try to talk but my throat is dry and scratchy. All I can do is cough and croak a few words. "Hold on." Amy reaches around behind my head and picks up something. It's a big cup with a straw in it. "Here, sip this slowly." She puts the straw in my mouth and I suck on it. A splash of cold water hits my mouth. I take three more sips then release the straw. "How long?" I still can't talk very well. "We will have you up and walking before the end of today. I would guess that you will be fully recovered within three days, add two more days to finish your so called "tune up" and you should be back with Anthony by November sixteenth." I nod my head, close my eyes and go back to concentrating on my breathing. I feel calm though I know the future is not going to be pleasant. It's probably the drugs. * * ** * ** * ** * * Amy wasn't lying; Connors came in later that day, unstrapped me and helped me off the gurney. My legs were fairly wobbly, but I was able to slowly walk out of the cell and make a couple of trips up and down the hallway. Connors followed me but didn't help at all. The pain in my side gradually increased with each step until I finally had to stop. When I got back to the cell, the gurney was gone. I sat down on the cot, swung my legs up, lay down on my back and fell asleep. She woke me later and we repeated my walk in the hall. I was able to make a few extra laps this time. There were no clocks or windows so I had no idea what time of day it was or even what day. Connors gave me another shot and I returned to the cot. After she left, I lifted the edge of my bandage and checked my stitches. I don't know a lot about medicine but I'd seen a lot of cuts and stitches in my playing days. Mine looked like they were more like a week old instead of less than two days. I'm pretty sure that I haven't been here a week and there is no reason for Amy to lie to me about that. It's probably the work of her rejuvenation treatments. I decide to get as much rest as possible. I don't usually get a chance to sleep in. Connors wakes me up three more times and it's the same routine each time, walk, shot then sleep. There is less pain each time and I walk further each trip. I check my stitches again after the last trip. The cut is almost healed. The stitches seem to be disappearing, they must be the temporary kind. She may be a crazy, vengeful bitch but you've got to give her credit. Amy's a genius when it comes to medical stuff. Too bad she spends most of her time thinking of ways to screw with me. The next time Connors wakes me, I'm led to the exercise studio. Man, does this place bring back a shit-load of memories. There are some new additions. Now there are mirrors all around and a treadmill. I slowly walk around the room, letting the memories flood my brain. In all the weeks I was here at the clinic, this is the only place I wasn't doped up. Everything else is pretty much disorganized recollections but I remember this room and all the routines Ms. Baker drilled into me. I could still do them today if I had to. Hell, three quarters of the athletic moves in my current dance routines come from her teaching. I almost expect her to walk through the door and bark out "Now, Number Three! Get ready, okay let's go!" She was tough but fair. Obviously, she was in on the whole thing, turning me into what I am today, but she was never mean for meanness sake. She just wanted me to be the best cheerleader I could be. A professional all the way. And I didn't disappoint her. Wonder where she is now? Connors brings me back to earth. "Dr. Hanson wants you to do thirty minutes on the treadmill. I'll increase the speed and grade as we go along. You can change in there." She pointed to the locker room. I open the door and walk in, at least I can get out of this damn paper gown. There are some exercise clothes piled on a bench. I pick up a sports bra and check its' size. 38DD, too big. I check several others but they are all the same size, so someone screwed up. Well, a lose fit is better than nothing. I slip it on. It's tight, just a touch too small. What the hell is going on? I've been a 36D for the last three years. I check out my reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that. My tits are definitely bigger, just short of cartoonish. Still firm and high on my chest though. Amy does good work. I finish dressing and everything else is the same size as before, the only change is bigger tits. When I step out of the changing room, I'm wearing pink cross trainers, white midriff top and tight shorts, hair pulled back in a pony tail. Connors smiles. "Well don't you look precious. Nice boobs. Get on the treadmill and we'll start with a walk." "Yes, Ms. Connors." Force of habit. I step on the treadmill and she starts it up. It's just a regular walking pace which stays the same for about five minutes. No problems so far. Connors pulls a remote from her lab coat and pushes a button. The front of the treadmill rises to about a ten degree grade but the speed doesn't change. Still not a problem. After another five minutes, she presses another button and it speeds up to a brisk walk. My side still feels OK, no pain. My tits are bouncing around more than I am used to though, guess I'll have to adapt. The change will probably increase my popularity at the club. Yippee. Another five minutes and the grade goes up to fifteen degrees. Half way home. It's starting to get interesting. There is still no pain but I'm breathing harder. At twenty minutes, the speed increases to a jog. The breasts are bouncing around much more now. I concentrate on taking deep, regular breaths. There is some pain in my left side but it's more general, not centered on the stitches. Sweat is starting to trickle down my forehead, neck and chest. The grade increases to twenty degrees at twenty five minutes. Just five to go. I have to lean forward to keep my balance, which makes breathing harder. It's not a struggle but getting tougher. I'll be happy when I'm done. I watch the clock on the wall, which makes time slow down. Thirty minutes finally arrives. I look over at Connors. She has a tight, evil smile on her face as she presses the remote again. The treadmill doesn't stop, it speeds up. It's at a full run now. I point at the clock. She nods her head but says nothing. My breath is coming in gasps now. At thirty five minutes, the grade moves up to twenty five degrees. I glance at Connors. She's laughing. I can't get enough oxygen in my lungs. My mouth is wide open and I'm sucking in air as fast as I can but it's not enough. My lungs are starting to dry out. The clock reads thirty eight minutes. Screw this. I stop running, letting the treadmill throw me off. I stumble and stagger but manage to keep on my feet. Bent over at the waist, I gasp, unable to speak, as I try to catch my breath. Connors walks up to me. She's pissed. "Who told you to stop? You get your perfect little ass back on that machine right now!' "Hanson ... said ... thirty ... minutes." I could barely get my words out between gasps. "I'm the one running this test and I decide when it ends!" She grabs my arm. "Now get back up there!" I straighten up, still breathing hard but I've got it under control. "No." "What?" "No. I'm done." I start to walk back to the locker room but Connors still has hold of my arm. She jerks me back. "You're done when I say you're done, BITCH!" She pulls her arm back, getting ready to slap me across the face. As her hand comes slashing down towards my head, I drop down on to my hands and knees, breaking her grip and throwing her off balance. I shoot my right leg out parallel to the floor and sweep it around, pivoting on my left foot, knocking Connors' legs out from under her. She falls flat on her back as I follow through and stand up. She starts to scramble to her feet, screaming at me. "Why you putrid little cunt! I am going to beat you senseless when I ..." I kick her in the jaw, probably breaking it. She's out like a light. That felt sooooo good. Bob taught me that move, along with several others, weeks ago. Never thought I'd need to use it. I go back into the locker room, undress, shower and put on some clean exercise clothes, tossing my paper gown in the trash. When I walk back into the studio, Connors is still out cold. I know that there is a really good chance that I'm going to pay for this sooner or later, probably sooner, but I don't care right now. I may have to kowtow to Amy and Anthony but not to this little tin dictator. I walk to the front office. There's a young, nice looking woman sitting at a large desk, typing on her computer. "Hello, are you Janet Lester?" She looks up at the sound of my voice. I reach out my hand. "Yes, I'm Janet Lester." She says, a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she takes my hand. "I'm Honey Sweet-Lay." We shake hands. "Ms. Connors has had a little accident in the exercise studio. Someone may want to go look in on her. No hurry though." I let go of her hand, turn and walk back to my cell. As I open the door, I hear a lot of commotion behind me. Someone loudly calls for Amy. I step into my cell, close the door and lay back on my cot, a smile on my face. Today has been a good day. CHAPTER THIRTY ONE "SHE DID WHAT?" I can't believe what Smith just told me. I hired Connors because she was a competent assistant in the lab but, more importantly, she had a black belt. Her job was to keep Josh Thomas in line, should he ever start to stray. Luckily, he never did except for that brief escape which my careful planning took care of. Honey was even less of a threat than Josh, yet she took Connors down in seconds, leaving her unconscious with a dislocated jaw. Why do I see Bob James fingerprints on this? Apparently, Honey didn't even run. She put herself back in her cell and is still there. Sleeping. I have not spoken with Connors yet, not that she can actually speak. She has a concussion and is still groggy. Smith has reviewed the video and given me the highlights. Time to go speak with Honey. When I open the door to the cell, Honey is lying on the cot, on her back, quietly snoring. I've brought a chair with me, which I set next to the cot. I sit down, then reach over and gently shake Honey. "Time to wake up Honey. I have some questions for you." I keep my voice calm and level. Best to start out friendly. Honey stirs, stretches her arms and legs, opens her eyes, then sits up. "Hello, Dr. Hanson. What can I do for you?" There's that blank, even look again. Thank you Bob James. I can play that game too. "How are you feeling Honey?" She cocks her head to one side. "Physically or psychologically?" "Let's start with physically." "I feel fine." She reaches down and touches her bandaged left side. "No pain here. I think I'm completely healed." She lifts both breasts with here hands, lightly bouncing them. "I seem to have picked up at least a couple of inches here however. Care to explain?" Her impertinence is unexpected and undesired, but I will let it go ... for now. "It was a special request from Anthony. Apparently he finds you a bit boring, so he needed something to revitalize his enthusiasm. He thought bigger breasts would do the trick. I can't say I am surprised at his solution. Most men think bigger tits can solve most any problem." She drops her hands to her lap. "Guess I should have figured that one out myself. Anthony's always been a boob man. I'm surprised he didn't ask sooner." "Oh he did, repeatedly. I just decided to give him an early Christmas present. Maybe I will be there when he unwraps it." She winces at that. Bob never would have broken his fa?ade. "Now, how are you psychologically?" She smiles slightly, another break. "The best I've felt in the last two weeks." "I assume that is because of your unprovoked assault on Ms. Connors." "Before I answer that, tell me how long you told Ms. Connors I was to work out on the tread mill." More impertinence, my patience is running out quickly. "Thirty minutes." She falls back onto the cot, arms folded across her enhanced chest. "Check out the elapsed time on the treadmill, assuming no one has reset it yet, then we can talk." OK, that's it. "I am fed up with your attitude young lady! Just because you look like a seventeen year old airhead does not mean I will tolerate you behaving like one. I have put up with more from you than I should have but that has come to an end, right now. Tell me what happened this instant!" She props herself up on her elbows. "Don't listen to me, don't listen to Connors. Check out the treadmill for yourself and then you'll know who is telling the truth and who is lying." She flops back onto the cot. I swear to God, she really does have the attitude of a seventeen year old girl. Unfortunately, she is correct. Technology does not lie, not if you know what to look for. I do not really need to look at the treadmill, I can review the video tape but that will take time. I also do not want Honey to know about my video collection. "Very well. I will be right back." "I'll be right here when you do." Little bitch. I quickly walk to the exercise studio and enter. There is no sign of a struggle, which confirms how quickly Honey was able to dispatch Connors. When did she acquire those skills? I must remember to ask Bob the next time I see him. The emergency shut down pin has been pulled on the machine but it is still on. I run through the menu on the attached computer, reaching the elapsed time display. I'll be damned! When I walk back into the cell, she doesn't move, just stares at the ceiling. "Time?" "Thirty eight minutes, forty five seconds. What happened Honey?" She sits up, swinging her legs off the cot, onto the floor. "Connors......" "Ms. Connors. Show some respect Honey." She rolls her eyes. I really do have a teenage girl sitting in front of me. I may have pushed the treatments too far. "Ms. Connors told me that you wanted me to work out on the treadmill for thirty minutes but she ran long. When I pointed this out to her, not only didn't she stop, she sped it up and increased the grade five degrees. I didn't know why you wanted me to work out only thirty minutes, but I assumed you had a good reason. After Ms. Connors refused to stop it, I bailed out. She tried to force me back onto the machine but I said no. She freaked out when I said no and tried to hit me. That's when I knocked her down and kicked her in the mouth." "A bit of an overreaction, don't you think?" "Hell yes it was an overreaction. I don't know what she was thinking." "I was referring to what you did Honey." "Me? I was just defending myself. She was going to hit me!" "Honey, you do not have the right of self-defense anymore. If I or anybody I designate wants to assault you, you take it and smile. If you don't then I will make sure that you regret it for the rest of your long, unpleasant life. Do you understand that?" She looks at me, eyes blazing with hatred. "Yes, Dr. Hanson, I understand." She may understand but she doesn't accept it, not yet. That will come with time and a change in my tactics. "Unfortunately, Connors was also wrong for not following my instructions. That is between her and myself and none of your concern. I will forgo punishment for now because you thought you were justified in not following Connors directions but you should never do that again. After I have spoken with Connors, she will not vary from my instructions in the future. One last question. How did you acquire the self-defense skills?" "Bob taught me a few things, just in case a customer started something at the club and Anthony wasn't around to protect me." "Did he teach you to kick people in the head?" "Yes. He said avoid trouble when you can but if you can't and have to act, do it first, fast and finally." "First, fast and finally?" "If you've got to do something, do it before the other guy gets a chance to get you, do it as fast and hard as you can to finish it quick and don't have any mercy, do whatever is necessary to completely win." "That does not sound very sporting." "He said that the only objective in a fight is to win, end of story. Do whatever it takes. If someone is going to get hurt or die, make sure it's the other guy." "Probably sound advice." I leave the cell, locking the door behind me. My first stop will be a visit to my office to review the video, then to see Connors and find out if she will tell me the truth. For her sake, I hope she does. I can forgive over-enthusiasm but not dishonesty. Never the less, it has been a productive day. I now have more insight into the workings of Bob James' mind than before. * * ** * ** * ** * * I stayed at the clinic two more days but never saw Connors again. There were three more sessions on the treadmill but supervised by Smith, who kept her distance. Each one was thirty minutes on the dot. I managed to get a really good look at myself when changing clothes, Amy was right, I did look like a seventeen year old girl, maybe eighteen. The other tune ups always left me looking young and fresh, taking away six months of the wear and tear my life as a dancer/whore caused. This time it was different. I still had the same flawless, silky skin, long graceful arms, narrow shoulders, wide hips, long legs, perfect ass, delicate hands and feet, narrow waist and flat stomach. My face was still innocent and childlike, with large green eyes, long lashes, pouty lips and pert nose. My breasts were bigger but not sagging at all, firm, round and full, sitting high on my chest with inch long nipples as big as my thumbs. The changes are subtle but there. Without makeup, I could never pass as eighteen, let alone the twenty two my drivers' license said I was. I'd be right at home as a sophomore in high school. She said Anthony ordered the new tits but didn't say anything about looking almost two years younger, not that Anthony will bitch about that. The club's clients won't object either. Anthony arrived at noon on the seventeenth to pick me up. I didn't have any of my normal clothes with me so he brought that tight red mini dress he likes and the red pumps with 4 inch heels. Unfortunately, he didn't bring any underwear. He just stood there, leering at me as I changed in my cell. I had to be very careful how I walked or sat, not only to avoid flashing people but to keep my boobs from popping out of the dress. It was way too tight. I hope my other clothes fit better. We walked to the lobby where Amy was waiting for us. She was holding what looked like a Palm Pilot or Blackberry. "Do you have everything straight Anthony?" "Yeah, you'll check in every five minutes and then we do a run away test." "Do you have your receiver?" "Right here." He taps his coat pocket. "Let's start then. One word of advice. Bob has been giving our little Honey self-defense lessons. She nearly broke Connors' jaw. You may want to take the necessary precautions." Anthony stared at me with narrowed eyes. Then he smiled. "I doubt that Honey is dumb enough to take me on. Hitting Connors is one thing but going after me is completely different." He grabs my hair near my scalp and jerks my head towards his face. "Isn't it Honey?" "Yes, Sir" I gasp. He lets go of my hair. My head hurts but I dare not rub it. Amy puts her device on the reception desk. "It was just a word to the wise Anthony. Connors was quite confident too. I will speak with you shortly." Anthony takes my arm and walks me out of the clinic. His van is parked right out front. He jumps into the driver's seat as I climb up into the passenger side. The hem of my dress slides up my thigh, exposing my hairless pussy. Before I can get the dress pulled down, he reaches across the seat, sticks his hand between my legs and fondles me. "I always enjoy fucking you right after you get out of the clinic." He keeps massaging my cunt. "You're so tight, practically like fucking a virgin." He's right about that. Those first fucks are the closest we ever get to making love. All the rest of the time it's "Wham, Bam, Thank You Mam". He takes his time with those first post-clinic fucks. I actually enjoy them. Anthony does know what he's doing in bed, when he bothers to make the effort. Naturally, orgasms aren't a problem for me no matter who is doing the fucking or how good they are. I do make a special effort on those first post-clinic occasions with Anthony though. That's odd. He's been rubbing my cunt for at least a minute and I'm not getting wet. Usually I'd be humping his hand by now. This time, nothing. I mean, it feels good and all but he's not starting to drive me towards a quick orgasm. He pulls his hand back and starts the van. "We'll pick this up later. Business before pleasure, right?" "Yes, Sir." "Good girl Honey." He pats my head, like I'm his pet. We pull away from the clinic, but head away from the club, driving towards downtown. I straighten my dress, getting as decent as I can. We drive around for a few minutes, turning now and then. One time we did a complete lap around a block and then headed west. It was like he was trying to shake someone who was following us but he wasn't checking the rear view mirrors. His cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket. "Hey Doc, where is she? ... You're absolutely right. Talk to you in five." He flipped it shut. "So far, so good Honey." He seemed happy about whatever was going on. We kept driving, turning left, then right, then right again. This went one for several minutes with Anthony making turns randomly. At least it seemed random. The cell phone rang again. "Where now, Doc? ... Right again. In five." He turned and smiled at me. "This may actually work." This went on for about a half hour with calls from, I assume, Amy every five minutes. It rang again. "Talk to me Doc ... On the button. Ready for the runaway? ... OK, I'm pulling over now. I'll call when I've got her." He pulls to the side of the street and parks. "Get out Honey." What? "Sir?" "You heard me, get out." He reaches across me and opens the door. "I don't understand, Sir. What am I supposed to do?" "We're going to play a little game now, you've probably heard of it. Hide and Seek? You have fifteen minutes to hide and then I'm going to try to find you. Get going." I climb down out of the van, then turn to look back at Anthony. "Where am I supposed to go, Sir?" "Where ever you want little girl. Don't make it easy for me." He checks his watch. "You've got fourteen minutes, thirty seconds." I start walking quickly away from the van, my heels clicking on the sidewalk. If he wants to play Hide and Seek, I wish he had let me keep the cross trainers and the running gear. I'm not going to move very fast in this outfit, not unless I want to give everybody a good look at my cunt. He's dropped me off in the middle of downtown. It's 12:55 p.m. and everyone is heading back to their offices after lunch. The sidewalks are crowded with men and women in business clothes; greys, blues and blacks. I couldn't stand out more if I was naked. I'd probably be less noticed if I was naked. The bright red mini dress might as well be a strobe light. Every guy who walks by gets whiplash when they jerk their head around to follow my undulating ass. Anthony said not to make it easy for him so I've got to get off the street. Either that or change clothes. Or ... find a place where I will blend in. I think that there is another strip club just a couple of blocks away. It's more high class than Anthony's ... what place isn't, but I should get in for free, dressed as I am. My big problem is, getting there in time. I don't have a watch but there's likely only about ten minutes left and I'm not even sure exactly where this place is, just heard the other girls talking about it. Either way, I'd better keep moving. Walking as fast as I can, it still took at least twelve minutes to go five blocks. I finally spotted the place, "Gold Dusters", a block and a half away. Anthony will never look for me there. I'm within one hundred feet of the entrance when his van pulls up next to me. He's laughing. "Nice try, Honey. Get in." I open the door and climb in. Anthony is making a call as I close the door. "Hey Doc. Got her. A piece of cake. This thing is pretty cool ... No, I saw where she was going and headed her off ... Yeah, maybe if there was a big crowd but I'd get her sooner or later ... Hang on." He handed the phone to me. "She wants to talk with you." "Hello, Dr. Hanson." "Hello Honey. Do you see the device in Anthony's hand?" Anthony holds it in front of my face. It shows a map grid with a blinking dot near an intersection. "Yes, I see it." "That is one of the receivers for the transmitter implanted in your abdomen. That blinking dot is you. I have been following your movements as Anthony drove you around town and he used it to find you after the fifteen minute head start. Bob assures me that this system works worldwide. This is just a short demonstration that no matter where you go, I will find you. Please put Anthony back on." I hand the phone back to Anthony. "Yeah Doc? ... She looks pretty unhappy. I'll see if I can cheer her up later tonight ... Good bye." He closes the phone. "Enough of this driving around, gas ain't cheap you know." He starts the van and drives back to the club. I'm too late for the afternoon sets and too early for the evening sets. Anthony is too busy to fuck me right now and he does love being the first, so no whoring until he's done. I go to my room and try on my few other dresses to see what may still fit with my new, bigger tits. The halter dresses work fine, they just show more of my boobs. The other two dresses I may be able to let out a little bit. I wander down to the main floor and check out the back stage. Candi's there, putting one of her costumes away in her locker. "Hey, Candi, how was the lunch crowd?" "Honey! Where have you been?" She runs over to me and we hug, pressing our breasts together. "I haven't seen you in a week." "I've been at my Doctor's clinic." She pushes away from the hug, holding me at arms length. "You're OK, aren't you?" "Yes, I'm fine now, just a little minor surgery." She looks me up and down, stopping at my chest. "I wouldn't call them minor. In fact, their pretty major. How big?" "Not sure." "Well let's find out. Drop that top and I'll get a tape." I untie the halter, letting the top of my dress down. Candi has her back turned, searching a drawer for a measuring tape. "Found it .... God Damn!" She had turned around and saw my boobs in all their glory. "Honey, those are magnificent!" "Don't you think that maybe they are a little ... you know, too big?" "Not at all. I know at least a dozen girls who would kill for a pair of knockers like that. Can I?" "Sure." Candi reaches out and touches my tits, gently lifting, then bouncing them. She runs her hands underneath, where they meet my rib cage. "I don't feel any scars." She runs her hands around their sides, then squeezes each one several times. My nipples have hardened. She flicks them with her index fingers. I stifle a moan, biting my lower lip. She steps back, letting them fall from her hands. "Honey, those are one hundred percent real. You have a pair of the most beautiful, glorious, teenage tits I have ever seen. They were incredible before but now they are stupefying. What is going on? There are no signs of surgery. Turn around." She runs the tape around my chest, taking several measurements. "You've gone from a 36 D to a 38 DD+ in one week without surgery, plus they are firmer and perkier. That isn't possible. The nipples are bigger too." She stares at me, waiting for an answer. "Well, you see, Anthony knows this Doctor, she's a friend of his ... she's got this new treatment ... and Anthony thought that I could help her test it out." Candi's shocked. "Are you crazy! Experimental procedures just to improve your already perfectly good tits! Did you ask for this or did Anthony force you into it?" "I ... ah ...asked for it." I can't look her in the eyes. "Bull shit! It was all his idea. 36 D wasn't good enough for him. He and I are gonna have a talk right now!" "No! Please Candi! Please, don't say anything. I'm fine. Really, I am. I don't need any trouble right now." I take her hands in mine. "Just leave it be, OK?" She looks at me, a mixture of concern and anger on her face but then she caves. "OK. I won't say anything for now, but if he wants you to do anything else, you come see me first." She reaches up and hugs my shoulder. "I kinda think of you as the little sister I never had." "You mean a little sister with benefits?" She laughs. "Yes, with benefits. Speaking of people with benefits, does Bob know about this?" "Not exactly." "How is he going to react? Wait, never mind, his girl with bigger boobs, I'm sure that will upset him." "Don't be hasty Candi, you can never tell with Bob." How will he react? He probably won't do anything, particularly since I'm not "his" girl anymore, but you couldn't pay me enough to predict what he would do in any given situation. I pull the top of my dress back up and tie the halter behind my neck. "As fun as this has been, I gotta go Candi. See ya tonight." "Ahhhh no Honey, you won't. You see, I'm leaving for a little while." "WHAT!" "Calm down, calm down. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be upset. It's not as bad as it sounds." "It couldn't be as bad as it sounds because it sounds horrible. Why are you leaving? Where are you going?" She's my only real friend in this hell hole and now she's leaving me. I try to tough it out but I can feel tears filling my eyes. "Oh please don't cry Honey. It's only for three months. I'm going to work in a club in Houston and some of their girls are coming here. Just rotating the stock to keep the customers interested. Houston isn't that far away. I'll come visit you. It's only three months." "But what if you like it there? What if you decide to stay?" "Honey, it's Houston. Who lives in Houston unless you have to? Don't worry, I'll be back, promise. I'll call whenever I can." Fat lotta good that will do, Anthony will never let me talk to her. I sniff, wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, and force a smile. "OK. Only if you absolutely, hope to die, promise to come back as soon as possible." We hug. She whispers in my ear. "Absolutely, hope to die, promise little sis." I whisper back. "I'll have Bob track you down if you don't ... big sis." We both laugh but I mean it. She lets me go and picks up a bag. "I have to finish packing. You know, it's a shame you can't come with me. I've never told you this, jealous I guess, but you are very good on that stage. Every one here knows that you are this club's best dancer, by far. I don't know what Anthony has on you, but if you could get out of this roach trap and work some higher class places, you could be famous." She's got me starting to cry again. "Thanks Candi, I appreciate that, though 'famous' isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'd settle for normal, any day." "You are one strange person, little sis." "Never said I wasn't, big sis." We hug again and she kisses me on the check. "Take care Honey. Call me if Anthony starts pushing for any other 'alterations'. I mean it." "I will. You take care too. See you in three months." I leave as Candi starts to empty her locker. I hope Anthony is in the right mood tonight because I sure could use a good fuck to cheer me up. * * ** * ** * ** * * The crowd noticed my new equipment right away that evening and I made sure to put it on full display. I put some extra effort into my sets because I wanted to get my acts down pat. We will see who's Queen of this stage when those Houston bitches show up. This is my home field, crappy as it is, and no one comes into my house and disses me! What Candi said stuck in my mind. I never really thought about how good a dancer I was, never compared myself to the other girls. Anthony always made it clear that he expected me to do a good job or else. Even with that threat of punishment, I had to admit that I kept trying to improve, more for myself than for Anthony. It's that damn competitive streak in my personality. I was born with it and somehow it survived the transformation. I never wanted to be a stripper, but if I'm going to be one, it will be a good one. Thinking back, I remember that I was actually proud of my performance as a Wrangler Girl at the Super Bowl because I was as good as any of the other girls. In the old days, I thought that I was only good at football but I realize now that I only tried to be good at football. Once a kid shows some superior skills at a sport, he gets special treatment and training. I got on that football escalator and rode it all the way to the top, never putting any effort into anything else. But now it seems that, if I work at it, I can also be a good cheerleader, a good stripper ... and a good cook. After a bit of a rough start, I got to be a pretty damn good cook when I was with Bob. He said that I could be a professional with some training. Football, dancing, stripping are all similar in that they are physical activities but cooking is more mental than physical. It's possible that I could be successful at whatever I decided to do, within reason. I'm never going to be as good a doctor as Amy, for example, but there's a lot of stuff that I'm better at than she is. I was thinking this while waiting for Anthony to get done with his books and come to my room. I had taken a bath and put on some perfume. It was some cheap stuff one of my regulars had given me but it wasn't bad. I was wearing a black baby doll nighty, black thigh high stockings, 5 inch black heels and no panties. The shoes are hell to walk in but I wasn't planning on doing much walking tonight. I heard his heavy footsteps in the hall outside my room, so I struck a seductive pose on my bed, waiting for him to come in. The knob on the door turned as I tossed my hair to get that perfect casual, tousled look. The door opens with a whoosh. Anthony always likes to make an entrance. I smile in anticipation of what is to come. "Damn Honey! You look like you're in the mood for a good fucking, don't you?" This is what passes as foreplay from Anthony. It doesn't matter tonight, I just want a piece of his meat pole. I slowly slide off the bed, my eyes locked on his. "Yes, Sir. I can't wait for you to fuck me like only you can." My left arm goes around his neck, my right hand to his crotch, stroking the growing bulge in his pants. He seems a little surprised at my aggression. "The Doc did remove the addiction, didn't she?" "She did as far as I know, Sir." I unbuckle his belt, then unzip his pants, letting them fall to the floor. "I just haven't had sex in six days and really need a ...", I hook my thumbs in the waistband of his shorts "... good ...", I jerk his shorts down to his knees, exposing his raging erection "... fucking ...", I take his cock in my left hand and kiss the tip, then turn my head up to look him in the face "... Sir". He gulps twice. "No shit, Honey. Get up there little puppy bitch and let's get started." That's his code word for doing it doggy style. I jump back on the bed on my hands and knees, wiggling my ass, spreading my legs wide, while Anthony steps out of his pants and underwear. I keep wiggling my ass as he removes his shoes but not his socks. Classy. He climbs on the bed behind me and starts rubbing my pussy with his right hand. "Aren't you a good little puppy bitch." He expects me to answer but not with words. "Yip, Yip, RRRRwoof, woof." This is so humiliating, which is why he does it. He pats my ass. "Yes you are, yes you are." Just do me already. I need the sweet relief of a few toe curling orgasms. It's been a shitty day and I deserve this. "You've been a good little puppy bitch so here's your bone." He quickly plunges his cock into my pussy to the hilt. Aaahhhh that's what I've been waiting for. I squeeze my muscles to increase the pressure on his cock. He pulls back and slams in again. That's nice. He starts pumping me and I match his rhythm, pushing back as I keep squeezing his cock with my cunt. "Oh baby, this is great! You are so damn tight tonight. I ought to tip the Doc for this one." Something is seriously wrong. I'm enjoying the sensations I feel but there is no orgasm building. Normally, I would be on the verge of an orgasm by now, maybe even recovering from my first and working towards my second. But this time, it's just a pleasant, warm feeling. Anthony is doing his normal adequate job but it's just not working for me. I try to squeeze my muscles harder. "Oh YEAH HONEY, keep doing that! Hang on!" He grabs my hips, then rolls onto his back, taking me with him. I'm now straddling him, still impaled on his cock, facing backwards. "Spin around Honey. I wanna see those tits bounce." I turn around so that I face him, knees at his side. I slip the straps of my nighty off my shoulders, exposing my boobs and start to ride him, pushing up and down with my legs and pumping back and forth with my hips. My new, bigger boobs are bouncing wildly until Anthony reaches up and clutches them. It all feels OK, but nothing more. Anthony, on the other hand, is getting ready to blow. "Yeah Honey, that's the stuff. Keep going baby! Oh yeah, Oh yeah ... Uhhhhhh ... Uhhhhhh. Here it comes Bitch!" He grabs my hips and drives up into me, shooting his semen into my cunt. After the third spurt, he starts pumping again, still spraying his jiz. I got nothing. His breathing slows and then he pulls out of me. "Clean me up Honey and do it right." I slip off him and take his semi-hard cock in my mouth, licking and sucking it clean. "That's enough Honey." He pats me on the head again. "I'd stay for Round Two, but I've got an early morning." He gets up and quickly dresses. I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, head down. He takes my chin in his hand and tips my head up. "Why so glum? With those new tit's you'll be very busy. Lot's of fucking, lots of orgasms, lots of money. Everyone happy, right?" I have to answer him. "Yes, Sir, everyone happy. I'm just sorry you can't stay longer tonight." It's a lie but a good one, stroking his ego. "Don't worry Honey, there will be time for more of this later. Neither of us is going anywhere and you are still one first class fuck." The self-absorbed bastard isn't even aware that I never came. He walks out, leaving me sitting on the edge of my bed, frustrated at the lack of sexual release. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO It got worse the next day. Anthony was right, I was popular again. It's amazing the effect a couple of extra inches of boobs has on men. I had sex with ten guys on Tuesday, eight on Wednesday and so on. By the end of the week, it was over forty guys. I had one orgasm that whole time and had warmed myself up before hand with my vibrator that time. At least I was still capable of having orgasms. The sex was pleasant enough, though sometimes painful with a few customers. I had to fake many orgasms to keep most of them happy. All this sex without the relief of orgasms was unbearable. Before, I could put up with it because I knew I would get my own pleasure but now it was just a job. I had to make all these guys happy, get them to cum, tell them what studs they were, and I got nothing out of it, no money, no orgasms, zip. I'd rather be dancing. The Houston girls were pretty good performers. The crowd loved them because they were new blood but I was still better on stage than any of them. I really missed Candi, more than I thought I would. She was my only friend and ally. With her gone, there was no one to talk to. I could never tell her my whole story but we did talk about some things. Some talk was better than nothing. By Saturday, I was in a terrible funk. It was hard to get out of bed in the morning. I didn't feel like eating, bathing, dancing, or fucking. The only reason to do anything at all was to avoid being beaten by Anthony and "doing nothing" almost won. I still had enough pride to prevent the quality of my dancing from suffering from my shitty mood but the sex sure did. Luckily, no one noticed, they weren't concerned what I thought, just wanted a young pussy to fuck. Sunday was just as bad, if not worse. I couldn't go on like this. If Amy had her way, I'd be doing this for the next forty to fifty years. I was ready to blow my brains out after just one week. I had to do something, talk to someone. It sure wasn't going to be Anthony or Amy and Anthony wouldn't give me access to a phone to call Bob. I had no idea how to get hold of Candi. I could try to send a letter to her old address and hope she filed a change of address card with the post office. Getting the letter in the mail would be the trick. I might be able to slip it in the outgoing mail or have one of my "customers" mail it for me, if I was extra nice to them. I managed to write a brief note during a short break late Sunday evening. With any luck, I could convince my last john that night to mail it for me. Turns out he was a barely legal drunk kid, who passed out after ten minutes of amazingly bad sex. So much for that plan. I picked up his jacket and was just about to get Anthony to toss him out on his ass when his cell phone fell out of a pocket of the coat. I picked it up, flipped it open and checked out the display. He had four bars. Yes! I quickly dialed Bob's number. It rang four times then went to voice mail. Damn it! "Bob, this is Honey ... Ahhh ... something has changed with me. I can't go on this way. I really need to talk with somebody." I start to cry. "Candi has moved to Houston. I'm all alone now. Please Bob. I need you. I'm going crazy here. Please do something, anything. I'm really, really desperate Bob. Please help me." I hang up, scroll through the menu to find the history display, delete Bob's phone number, turn off the phone, put it back in the kid's coat pocket and then leave to find Anthony. * * ** * ** * ** * * "Honey, time to get up and get going." I knock on her door again. She's been moving slower lately. I haven't given her a good beating in some time. We've had some rough sex but for real motivation, you won't do better that a good, old fashioned beat down. I really hate to do it now, just after her recent tune up but if things don't improve, I may have no choice. I loudly knock again. "Honey, get moving or I'll have to go get my paddle and ... " Her door opens. Looks like she didn't sleep at all last night. "Sorry, Sir. I'll be ready in a minute." "You better be. It's Monday and I have work to do, which does not include babysitting you. Get dressed and then go to my office to recharge your transmitter." Bob says that a full charge is good for twenty days but I'd rather do it weekly, make it part of a routine. He says that doing it weekly won't hurt it, just that it's not necessary. I prefer to be safe. "Yes, Sir. I'll come get your key when I'm ready." I keep my office locked unless I'm in it. I nod at her and head to the bar to take inventory. It's time to restock after a weekend. I have a decent supply of assorted items in the stock room but can't afford to keep too much liquor in stock, that shit is expensive, even if you water it as much as I do. I'm just about finished when my cell phone rings. "Hello." "I would like to speak with Anthony please." "Yeah, speaking." "This is Bob James." "Hey Bob, what do you need?" "I need to stop by the club to speak with you and test Honey's equipment." "I'm kinda busy right now. Mondays are always busy days for me so there really isn't a good time." "This should not take long." "How long?" "No more than ten minutes with you, about twenty with Honey." "Why now?" "It is standard procedure with a newly implanted tracker." "Can't this wait?" "Not really. Is Honey not available?" "Yeah, she's here, well actually she's getting ready to recharge." "I will be as quick as possible Anthony." "Alright. Ring the bell round back when you get here. Bye" I flip the phone closed. I wonder what that is all about. He did offer to check out Honey's tracking equipment, do a diagnostic to make sure it's working as advertised. No harm in that. I go back to finish my inventory. Honey walks into the bar, wearing her black mini halter dress and mid-calf stiletto boots. Very nice. I may need to take a late morning break. She walks over to me, her big tits jiggling. Maybe it will be a mid morning break. I reach into my pocket for the office key. "Here's the key Honey. Make sure you charge the full two hours, because I'm checking it." She stretches her hand out and I drop the key in her palm. "Yes, Sir." She looks and acts like she's drugged, slow to react, emotionless, doesn't give a damn. That beating may be unavoidable. "Also, Bob called." Suddenly, her eyes light up and she started to smile then stifled it. "He wants to talk with me about something and check out your tracking system. I'll send him to the office when he gets here." "Yes, Sir." She quickly trots off to the office, almost skipping. The bell at the back door rings ten minutes later. I walk to the back and check the video monitor. Bob's the only one I can see. I open the door and he walks in, carrying a small bag. "Hello, Anthony." "Hey Bob. What's in the bag?" He unzips it then hands it to me to check it out. There's a couple of meters and some wires. "Just testing equipment. I will also need to see your receiver. Right now, I want to talk with you about Stage Two." "What's 'Stage Two'?" "'Stage Two' is where we get Dr. Hanson out of the business of helping the Wranglers without making things worse. The sooner we end her treatment of their players, the better." "How do you plan to do that?" "I was thinking that the best way to do it would be for the Wrangler's management to believe that it was their idea to terminate her services." "Why would they fire her, she's the reason they're still winning and saving millions of dollars in payroll." "They would fire her if the treatments failed." "But they work really well." Bob stares at me for a couple of seconds. "My plan is that the Doctor changes her treatments so that they no longer work. If the treatments no longer work, the Wranglers will have no interest in continuing her services. In addition, there will be less motivation on the part of the press to investigate something that is a failure. A story about a medical treatment that does nothing is not very sexy. The more time passes, the less likely there will be any investigation at all. If everyone believes that the treatments are the same but just no longer effective, they may soon conclude that the treatments never worked in the first place and that the Wrangler's success was due to great coaching, talented players, and a bit of luck with injuries. If you were an athlete, would you rather take credit or give it to a woman doctor? My bet is on the athletes wanting to take credit and minimize Dr. Hanson's contributions." "Hey, that's pretty good Bob! Do you think the Doc will go along with it?" "I think that with her ego, we will have a very difficult time convincing her to intentionally fail and then sit there while people criticize her for that failure without saying anything." "You got that right." "I just wanted to lay the whole thing out for you, to give you a chance to think about it for a couple of days to see if you can find something I may have missed or if you have a better idea. It is always best to get another pair of eyes to review a problem from a different angle." He looks at his watch. "I have taken up enough of your time Anthony. I appreciate your willingness to hear me out and am looking forward to your comments and contributions." "No problem Bob. No problem at all. I'm sure that, together, we can work this out." "No doubt, you are correct Anthony. I will see myself out." "Wait, weren't you going to check out Honey's equipment?" Bob shakes his head. "You are absolutely correct Anthony. Where is my head this morning?" He picks up his bag. "Where is Honey?" I take the receiver from my pocket and hand it to him. "Why don't you go find her. I have to tell you Bob, that is one of the coolest things I have ever seen." "That is a com