Going for Gold (23 page)

"Holy shit," I said. "That's so much
cum."

Python smiled. "It looks good on you."

Python grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet as my other
backup dancers joined us on the stage. They all joined hands

"Take a bow," he said and pulled down on my hand so
that I'd bow in unison with them.

Is it over? Is it really over this time?
The music had
finally cut off and Owen Harris stepped onto the stage and started walking
toward me. He smiled at me and for a second and his eyes wandered to my
breasts.
Oh my God, Owen Harris just checked me out.
I put one arm in
front of my cum covered breasts and my other hand between my legs.

I couldn't decide if I was happy or sad it was over. It was
far and away the most incredible sex of my life, but it had been in front of so
many people. My mind was numb from the pleasure. I couldn't even count the
number of times I had orgasmed.

"Wow, Alina," said Owen. "That was uh...quite
the performance."

All I could do was stand there, covering my body. I had done
plenty of post-game interviews in volleyball, but never a post-sex interview. I
thought I'd be interviewed for the first time by Owen Harris after winning gold
in volleyball. Not after having danced naked in front of him.

"Do you think the judges will react favorably?" he
asked.

Reality started to sink in. I was supposed to perform a strip
dance, and instead I had ended up getting gangbanged by my dancers. In front of
the whole world.
Oh my God.
"Please tell me that wasn't being
broadcast."

"Not by UBC, no. But you are quite popular on Twitter.
Let's see if we can put that up on the jumbotron for you."

A second later the Twitter feed for #ITAsex appeared on the
jumbotron. Whoever was controlling it slowly started scrolling. I expected to
read a bunch of 140 character posts about me, but instead the feed was filled
with HD pictures and gifs of me getting fucked every which way. The two most
popular ones seemed to be of me getting three cocks at once and of the guys
cumming all over my face. Someone was also kind enough to create a gif of when
I was bent over the judges table getting fucked by Python, with my quote,
"I love your big back cock," written at the bottom in bubble letters.

"Oh my God..." I started laughing and looked down
to make sure my hands were still covering my nude body. I was absolutely
mortified. "Please tell me that's not real." I knew my face was
bright red.

Owen winced. "I'm afraid it is. We were required to send
the unedited footage to all the international broadcasts with rights to show
the ITAs. One of them chose to air it."

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!
"So the entire, unedited
segment is available online?"

"Yes."

I gave another mortified laugh. It was all I could to do to
keep from running off the stage in embarrassment. Thoughts of all the people
who I didn't want to see me having sex flooded into my head. My mom, my dad, my
grandma...really everyone in the world. And where was Bryce during all of this?
Had I just had my first time with Bryce and not even known which one was him? I
turned around, but all my backup dancers had exited the stage.

Owen put his finger to his ear piece. "Alright, I'm
hearing that the judges have just about come to a decision, so let's get all
the girls back out here."

"Can I please have a towel?" I asked.

The other contestants walked onto the stage, all wearing the
lingerie they ended up in at the end of their performance. Compared to the
cheers I got for having sex, the applause for the other contestants was
lukewarm at best.

I was certain I would win gold if the audience were the one's
voting, but they weren't. The judges were, and I had no idea what they were
thinking.

The girls lined up next to me, with Gabriela right by me.

"Congrats on getting another silver, slut," said
Gabriela.

Before Owen could hand me the towel he had fetched, I turned
to Gabriela and gave her a big hug, just like she had done to me during the
medal ceremony for volleyball.

"Ew!" she screamed. She was able to squirm away,
but not before I got cum all over her torso. She looked utterly horrified by
the fact that she was covered in it too. Hugging her had probably exposed my
naked body to the audience again, but it was totally worth it to finally wipe
that fucking smile off her face.

"You're getting second place this time, Gabriela. Fuck
you, and fuck you for sabotaging my dancers uniforms," I said.

"That wasn't me, honey." She made an exasperated
noise and tried to wipe the cum off her chest.

Huh? Who was it then? Wow, did Tim and Bryce really plan
this whole thing?

Owen handed me a towel. I quickly wrapped it around my body
and then used part of it to wipe the cum off my face.

"Okay, let me recap the situation before we hear from
the judges. Gabriela, for Brazil, is currently in first place with a technical
score of 28 and a creativity score of 15, for a total of 43 out of a possible
60. So to win gold for the US, Alina will need to have a total score of 44 or
more, with the highest and lowest scores in each category being dropped.
Judges?"

"Ms. Smith," said Mi-sook Park, the South Korean
lady. "I thought your performance was a disgrace to the sport of dance and
to these games. If it were up to me, you'd be disqualified. However, if I'm
forced to score you, I give you a one in both categories."

It wasn't a great start, but I also wasn't surprised. I could
kind of tell she was going to give me a horrible score based on the look on her
face while I was getting fucked. Luckily, my lowest scores in each category get
dropped, so both of those ones would be thrown out and getting gold was still
within reach.

"Ouch," said Gabriela with a smug look on her face.
I tried to ignore her.

The next judge leaned forward. He was tall, dark and
handsome. I was pretty sure he was the one who hosted some Chilean dancing
show.

"Alina," he said with a smile. "Before I
start, can I borrow that towel? I got all sweaty over here watching you
perform."

"This towel?" I asked, pointing at the one wrapped
around my body.

"Yup. Just toss it to me."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Despite what they had
seen me do, I still didn't want them to see me naked again.

The judge laughed. "At first I thought that everything
that just happened was an accident. But you're clearly a modest girl when
you're not performing. So sweet and innocent." He gave me a sly smile.
"Oh, I guess I'm supposed to score you? That's easy. Ten for both
categories. I've seen countless strip dances on my show over the past eight
years, but none of them even come close to that."

Yes!

"Wow, that's quite the difference of opinions between
the first two judges," said Owen. "Alina can't get higher or lower
scores in either category, so those will be dropped and every score from the
final three judges will count. Dean Smith, what'd you think of Alina's
dance?"

The third judge leaned into his mic, which happened to be the
same mic I had used to pronounce my love of big black cock.
Oh God.
I
wrapped my towel tighter around myself.

"Well, Alina," said Dean Smith, the choreographer
from South Africa. "Overall I enjoyed the dance, but I felt the dance
portion was a bit safe from a technical aspect. You didn't really attempt many
difficult moves, and those that you did try left a bit to be desired. So for a
technical score, I have to give you a four. However, I can't deny that the
creativity and sensuality of your performance deserves a ten."

The next judge, a slim black man with a bald head and bright
white smile, immediately chimed in. "I have to agree with most of that,
but I enjoyed the technical part of your performance more than Dean. The whole
dance, even before the end, was very sensual, which is the most important part
of a strip dance. So for that, I give you a technical score of six and a
creativity score of nine."

Nine? Really?

"Alright, that's 29 points so far," said Owen
Harris. "It all comes down to our final judge, Corinne Bellerose. She
needs to give you a score of at least 15 for you to take home the gold.
Corinne, what'd you think?"

I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding out of my chest.
I was so close to taking the gold from Gabriela. But it was all up to Madame
Bellerose, an editor at a hoity-toity French dance magazine. She hadn't looked
overtly disgusted like Mi-sook Park, but she also hadn't been grinning like a
horny high-school boy the entire time the way the three men at the judges' table
had been.

"Miss Smith," she began in a heavy French accent.
Her expression was still unreadable. "Your dance was mediocre. The strip
parts were okay, but the dance moves were not so good. Some of them could have
been much uh..." she fumbled for the word, "...crisper. So for your
technical score, I give you a five."

Shit. That means I need a ten for creativity to win it.

"However, the end of your dance was incredible. A strip
dance is so often focused on one woman removing her clothes, so the way you had
your backup dancers strip as well was quite brilliant. But you even took it a
step further. You teased us all by making us think the dance was over, and then
you teased your dancers by letting that spinning platform determine which of
them got to have you and which of them had to watch. And then having some of
the backup dancers fight over you? Even with a few of them pretending to be
knocked out cold? I could feel the passion. Strip dances are all about building
desire, and I think that dance made every man on the planet desire you. So for
creativity, I give you a ten."

 
Ten? Did she really say ten?
I looked at the
jumbotron to check the scores.
Gabriela - 43. Alina - 44.

Holy fuck! I really won!

"Congratulations, Alina," said Owen with a smile.
"You just won gold."

I smiled and threw my arms around him.

He cleared his throat.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." He winked at me and lifted one of my
hands in the air. And in that moment, all I could think about was that I won
gold. I won gold and beat Gabriela.

The familiar sound of the crowd cheering for me filled the
air. God, I loved that sound.

Sunday

Isadora

Sex, for many people, is when they feel most alive,
connecting with another human on some base and animalistic level. Maybe I felt
that way about sex at some point, before I was beaten and broken by Rodrigo and
his customers, but now, only the ocean made me feel truly alive. It was the one
bright spot in my life filled mainly with the darkness of drugs and
prostitution. On the rare occasion that Rodrigo didn't demand my presence at
the club, I would always go to the beach, and for a few hours, I'd smell the
salty ocean breeze and feel the hot Brazilian sun beating down on my tan skin.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the salty ocean
air one more time before leaving the balcony to go back inside the penthouse
suite of the Copacabana Palace. My best friend, Giovanna, was sitting on one of
the four couches in the penthouse, while Rodrigo nursed a scotch at the bar in
front of his laptop. I didn't have to see the screen to know that he was
watching a live feed from Vitor of Bryce's sister, Emily. A similar video feed
had been present on Rodrigo's laptop during every pivotal event, with the only
variables being a different loved one based on which operative was supposed to
be rigging the event. I didn't understand why he actually had to kill some
innocent girl if Bryce failed. It would be smarter to just use the threat of
her death to make Bryce do his bidding, especially since he would owe Vitor
more money for actually carrying out the hit on the girl, but Rodrigo didn't
see it that way. If someone crossed him, he took something they loved. It was
brutal, but thus far in life, it appeared to have served him well.

That's going to change today.

"Is it back on?" asked Rodrigo in Portuguese.

"Not yet," said Giovanna. "The announcer is
still claiming that they're having...technical difficulties." She looked
down at her phone for a second and then held it up for Rodrigo and me to see.
"But if you look at the Twitter..."

I looked at the screen. Someone in the audience had tweeted
out a low quality ten-second video of the American girl getting gangbanged on
stage by her backup dancers.
Another life ruined by Rodrigo.

"Holy shit," said Rodrigo. "That girl really
knows how to fuck."

"Hey," said Giovanna, pointing at the 80 inch TV on
the wall. "I think it's coming back on."

I immediately turned my attention to the TV.

"We do apologize for the technical difficulties, but I'm
hearing that everything is sorted out now. In just a second we'll take you back
out to the tiebreaker. The announcer disappeared and was replaced with a live
feed of all the participants on stage. Alina had a towel wrapped around herself
and was wiping something off her face with part of it.

Rodrigo grabbed his laptop and brought it over to the couch.
Giovanna scooted over to make room for him and I slid into the seat beside him.
All of our stares were glued to the TV, eagerly awaiting the scores of the
judges.

***

"The fucking gringo did it!" shouted Rodrigo,
jumping off the couch and pumping his fist in the air.

I couldn't help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, life was
finally throwing me a bone.

"So the hit is off?" asked a cold voice from the
laptop.

"Yes," said Rodrigo. "As always, your services
are very much appreciated." With payment for the surveillance already
having been completed, Vitor and Rodrigo's business was complete. The feed on
the laptop went dark. "Girls, should we go collect on the ticket?"

"Soon," I said. "But first, we have a little
something that will surprise you."

Giovanna and I stood and made our way to the bedroom of the
suite. We closed the doors and quickly changed into the black leather cat suits
we had packed. Rodrigo had a weakness for leather, and we planned to fully
exploit that.

"Ready?" I asked, pulling on a pair of black
thigh-high boots. My heart was pounding, partially from fear, but mainly from
excitement. After all the shit Rodrigo had put me through, I was about to get
my revenge.

"Ready," said Giovanna. I was pleased to not hear
even a hint of uncertainty in Giovanna's voice. There would be no margin for
error.

We pushed the doors to the bedroom open and walked over to
Rodrigo. In an instant, he was on his feet. He reached for my ass, but I
swatted his hand away. I waved my finger at him and bit my lip. "Not
yet," I said.

"Fuck," muttered Rodrigo. "Where have you been
hiding these outfits?" The growing bulge in his pants made his approval
evident.

Men are so easy.

Giovanna and I each grabbed one of his hands and led him back
into the bedroom, closing the doors behind us. I spun him around at the base of
the bed and kissed him for a second before pushing on his chest to send him
sprawling back onto the plush king sized bed.

Giovanna jumped on him, undoing his belt and dropping his
pants in a fluid motion that could only come with years of experience in our
profession. Within a second, his pants were at his ankles and Giovanna's tongue
was pressed against his cock, licking it like a popsicle. Rodrigo went to grab
her hair to force himself into her throat, but she pushed his arm away.
"Not yet," she moaned. "I want to savor your big cock."

Big cock.
Those words being used to describe Rodrigo's
package almost made me laugh, because he really wasn't packing anything
special. We just had to pretend like he was.

On the side of the bed, I traced my finger down my chest and
tugged on the zipper. One little tug was all the help my breasts needed to free
themselves of the tight fabric. I traced my finger around my aroused nipples.

"Fuck, get over here," demanded Rodrigo.

I crawled onto the bed and buried Rodrigo's face into my
cleavage, pinning his hands above his head. With Rodrigo distracted, Giovanna
took her mouth off of him and moved up to be next to me. In unison, we cuffed
his hands to the headboard.

"What the hell?" said Rodrigo, his voice heavily
muffled by my silicon breasts.

I pulled back and looked at him. "What's wrong? Did you
want to touch these?" I pushed my breasts together and moaned. "Or
maybe you'd rather touch these?" I reached over and unzipped Giovanna's
suit.

"Damn, this is better than winning a bet," said
Rodrigo.

I smiled and Giovanna and I made our way to the foot of the
bed. Rodrigo's cock danced with excitement, probably anticipating a double
blowjob, but we went right past his erection. We tore his shoes and pants off
and then cuffed his ankles to the bed posts.

"So what do you want us to do to you?" I asked.

"You better fuck me."

"Hmmm..." I tapped my finger against my lips.
"I think I can arrange the fucking of you. Giovanna, what do you
think?"

"Yeah, let's fuck him," agreed Giovanna.

"How should we fuck him?"

"Cow girl?" suggested Giovanna.

"I had something else in mind for the fucking. What if
we take all his money?" I watched as his smug fucking smile changed into
confusion.

Giovanna shrugged. "Okay."

"What?" asked Rodrigo. "What the fuck do you
think you're doing?"

"We're fucking you, just like you wanted," I said,
jumping onto the bed and frisking his pockets. He squirmed and twisted and
tried to free himself from his bonds, but to no avail. I quickly found the
betting ticket which was now worth millions.

"You fucking bitches," yelled Rodrigo. "I'll
fucking kill you for this."

"I know," I said. "I've seen you nearly kill girls
for sucking your tiny cock wrong, so I have no doubt you'd kill me for this
that I am doing. But you know what? I'm fucking tired of your shit, Rodrigo.
I'm tired of going to the club all the nights and doing whatever the fuck you
want me to do. You act like you're the hot shit, but no one gives a shit about
you and your filthy fucking club. Without this ticket," I waved the ticket
in his face, "you are nothing."

Rage flashed across Rodrigo's face, but it quickly turned to
a gentle smile. "Come on, girls. You really think I'd win this much money
and not share a piece with you? You girls mean everything to me. I was going to
make you both live like queens. And I still will if you let me out of these
cuffs. We can pretend like this never happened."

I laughed. "Bullshit. The second I let you free, you'll
kill the both of us."

"I would never hurt you," said Rodrigo.

"I wish that were true, but you've been hurting us ever
since the day we met. Maybe it's time we returned the favor of the hurt."
I pushed Rodrigo's sports coat to the side and unholstered his silenced pistol.

"What, now you're going to shoot me?" scoffed
Rodrigo. "Come on, just untie me before you hurt yourself."

I slid off the bed and pressed the barrel of the gun against
his penis. What was left of his erection from earlier immediately wilted under
the cold sting of the metal barrel and the threat of his manhood being blown to
bits. He tried to look confident, but I could see the fear on his face. I knew
that look so well from all the times I had looked in the mirror at the club.
The look only intensified as I took off the safety and put my finger on the
trigger.

Rodrigo squirmed to try to get his penis to safety.

"Quit the movement or my finger might slip," I
cautioned.

Rodrigo went still. "Don't do this, Isadora. Just take
the ticket. Take the money. Just don't shoot me in the nuts."

I smiled. I wasn't a cruel person, but there was something so
sweet about seeing the man who had tormented me for all these years being
reduced to a groveling little bitch. "I'm going to ask a question for you,
Rodrigo. I want you to think very carefully about your answer. If you get it
wrong, you won't very much like the result. Understand?"

"Yes," he said.

"If our roles were the reverse, if someone had hurt you
the way you hurt us, would you pull the gun trigger?"

Rodrigo hesitated for a second and then answered,
"Yes."

I nodded and took my finger off the trigger. I knew I would
never get a genuine apology out of him, but him admitting that he'd hurt us
enough to deserve to be shot in the dick felt almost as good. "Let's go,
Giovanna. We have a ticket to cash."

Rodrigo let out a sigh of relief as we zipped up our cat
suits and walked towards the door.

If Rodrigo had only wronged me, I probably would have kept
walking. But he hadn't. He left death and destruction in his wake wherever he
went. Minutes ago, he had caused some poor girl to get gangbanged on stage and
almost paid Vitor to carry out a hit on some random girl. If I walked out that
door, it would only be a matter of time before some other girl took my place
under his iron backhand. And I couldn't allow that to happen.

Before opening the door, I turned around, aimed the pistol,
and redecorated the backboard of the bed with Rodrigo's brain. I was finally
free.