Jean Wilson didn't doubt for one moment that her husband wasn't feeling well that night, especially when he hadn't wanted to make love to her, though she hardly told him that was what she was basing her diagnosis on. But except for those times in the month when she couldn't, they had not missed one night of love-making since their wedding, and that was proof enough for her.
In truth, she'd enjoyed the waiting on and looking after him, though he hadn't eaten any of the supper she'd brought him, and he'd hardly been willing to talk or even discuss his feelings, so she had let him fall asleep, and this morning he'd looked and seemed to feel better, giving her a warm and passionate kiss just before he left to chauffeur Mrs. Keele.
Now, as she went about her household duties, Jean felt a little tingle in her belly at the memory of the kiss. She smiled to herself enroute to the rumpus room on the third floor that Mrs. Keele had ordered she clean thoroughly for some sort of party the next night… smiled as she entertained exciting thoughts of what their own little bed-party to come at the end of the day promised… if kisses didn't lie.
Lord… getting to be just a little bit on the horny side, wasn't she? Jean reprimanded herself lightly, not at all ashamed of her desire for her virile young husband. In fact, she was secretly pleased with the erotic passion he could arouse in her with a simple kiss, or his gentle hand touching her breast or thigh, being that her sheltering parents had almost had her believing that sex was the basest of animal instincts and no religious girl indulged. God, how wrong they were…!
She entered the massive playroom with its bar and multitude of plush furnishings, memories of her loving parents still lingering in her mind. If only they had understood how much she and Ken had loved one another, perhaps none of this situation would ever have come into being. Certainly, it wouldn't have, for they would've been married in the little church in town and probably settled down there, with Ken helping Daddy on the farm… Oh God, there she went again, juggling the "ifs" and heading right toward a crying spree.
Well, she wouldn't! Not again today. Yesterday had been bad enough for her, but she'd vowed to see it through and she would. Besides, there was nothing else for them to do, no one to turn to for help… unless Chief Lannigan might listen… but that was far-fetched, too, she'd decided. That awful judge had passed down his decision, and no one was going to bother listening to their plight… two nobodies from the Midwest…
Jean walked to one of the large TVs, turning it on in an attempt to rid her mind of its plaguing thoughts while she worked, switching the selector dial rapidly when the screen showed nothing but what fleetingly resembled plays, or soap-opera type scenes… until she came to what looked like a very familiar setting… a room with no one in it… and then, it struck her!
My God! It was their… Ken's and her room. She leaned close to the screen to examine the furnishings more closely, finally noting her own cosmetic case setting on the vanity! It was! It was! But… but why? She shook her head in confusion, brushing her long honey-colored hair back over her shoulders. It didn't make sense… or did it…? Quickly, she twisted the selector again, recognizing the uniforms the girls were wearing…!
"Fuck her!" came distinctly over the audio system, sending a shock wave of unfathomable sensations charging through Jean at the forbidden four-letter word one of the girls had uttered. "I'll get even with that old cunt one day!"
"Don't let her get to your, Carla," another red-headed young girl with an attractive face soothed. "She's a bitch all right, but nothing compared with the she-wolf, herself, or that frigging dog! Just be thankful you haven't been chosen yet…!"
"Don't worry, Old Maggie won't take me," the one called Carla said. "I'm too old at eighteen… besides I've been a whore…"
Mesmerized, Jean stared at the screen, listening to their lewd exchange while they slipped out of their drab uniforms and stood in bras and panties, obviously in total unawareness that they could be seen and heard! Her brain whirled with the shocking unbelievableness of what she was witnessing, while simultaneously it tried to calculate some sense to it all. With trembling hand, she again twisted the selector, a picture of a shower-room with a lone girl completely nude beneath the spray filling the large screen. Dear God, everything she owned was absolutely on display, and Jean could hear the hiss of the water, even the sound of the soap as it squirted out of her hand and struck the cement flooring!
Jean watched her stoop down unawarely, realizing the erotic lewdness such a spectacle made and knowing how that girl might feel if she knew she were being watched. Modestly, she turned the dial, clicking slowly through its channels to see replicas of the same, until she came back to her own room and staggered backward to fall weakly into an overstuffed, luxurious chair, the undeniable truth of it all dawning on her!
My dear God! It was all suddenly so clear to her! The Keeles had to be warped people… and they sat here, perhaps, even with their friends, playing voyeurs… watching those poor locked-up girls in their most intimate moments… even she, herself, and Ken in their supposed privacy! My God! Had they been watching them that first night they made love…?
Oh God… somehow, someway, they had to get away from that terrible place and those wicked people! But… how? Run away? No, that would be insane; they'd have every policeman in the country looking for them! But there must be a way! What the Keeles were doing was evilly wrong and they should be punished…
Chief Lannigan! Yes! She would go to him and tell the whole horrible truth! It might even help them gain a full release… get them away from there entirely! After all, he was the law, and certainly the law didn't permit such obscene goings-on as this! She would! She would! She'd call a taxi and go straight to Chief Lannigan's office! After all, she was on probation and had the right to go outside; it wasn't as if she were a total prisoner…
With trembling legs, Jean got to her feet and stumbled toward the door. Oh God, if only Ken were there to help her… but he wasn't! This, she had to do on her own, she realized, running down the stairway.
Oh God… oh God, please help me, she prayed inwardly as she picked up the telephone to call a cab…
Bige Lannigan was more than a robust man; he was disgustingly obese according to medical standards, and probably not long for the world if their calculations were correct. A shock of white, waving hair covered his ruddy-complexioned head luxuriously, and his pale blue eyes gave him the appearance, along with his cherubic, smiling face, of a kind, benign individual. He was of medium height, wore street clothes instead of a uniform, and filled his chair in broad corpulence, further suggesting an almost Santa Claus attitude.
He listened intently to every word the intoxicating little bitch before him unfolded in her anxiety, struggling to keep his eyes above the partially exposed, nylon-encased thighs that she kept crossed beneath her maid's mini-uniform, even above her full young breasts jutting forward at him provokingly.
"And… and that's the whole story, Chief Lannigan!" Jean ended with parched throat. "Certainly, you can and will do something about it…?"
"Of course, we can, my dear," he answered her calmly. "And we will…!"
Jean breathed a heavy sigh of relief, smiling for the first time since she'd entered his office. "Oh Lord… you make me feel so much better, Chief." She leaned forward then: "Do… do you think there's a chance of my husband and I being released… I mean, after bringing this to your attention…?"
Bige smiled at her. Christ, what a delicious fuck she'd make, he thought licentiously. "There's always a chance for everything, my dear. Let me set the wheels into operation on what you've already told me. We have to gather our own proof, you know… something that will stand up in court… But don't worry, we'll get right on it. Meanwhile, I suggest you go back to the Keele residence and act as if nothing has happened… so they won't get suspicious. Don't tell your husband, or anyone, that you've talked to me… all right?"
Jean swallowed at the dryness in her mouth. She'd hoped for immediate action to her condemning information… hoped that her darling Ken and herself could be out of there that very night, but she could reluctantly understand the methodical procedure of law. She forced a little smile as she got to her feet.
"I better get back before they notice that I'm gone," she said, backing toward the door. "And… and I'll depend on you, Chief Lannigan…"
"Just play it nice and cool," the huge fat-man said, lumbering up from his chair. He smiled encouragingly. "We'll get on it right away, dear. Don't worry about a thing… unless it's you and your hubby in bed tonight… Remember those cameras you told me about…"
Jean reached for the doorknob sensing the flush in her cheeks at his words, but hardly knowing how to counteract them. In fact, he had an excellent point, didn't he…?
"Thank you, Chief… and please hurry! We don't want to stay a minute longer there than we have to…"
"I understand, doll, and don't worry. Just do your thing," the corpulent man said, moving to open the door for her. Then: "I'd have one of the boys drive you home but it might not look good. Better buy some groceries and take a cab."
"I will… and thank you, Chief Lannigan," Jean said warmly.
"Oh, you're welcome, honey… and don't worry about a thing," he repeated benignly. "You'll be hearing from me shortly…"