by Ivy Smoak
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.
Chapter 49
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.
Chapter 50
Sunday
Alina
After I received my scores, the stage crew quickly set up the three-tiered medal podium while the girls who placed fourth and fifth were escorted off stage. A few guys in suits appeared on stage, as well as three women in traditional Brazilian outfits holding silver platters with the medals and flowers.
"Can I put on some clothes before we start?" I whispered to Owen.
He shook his head. "Sorry, we're already way behind on a tight schedule. The closing ceremonies can't begin until we're done here."
Oh well. I figured it was worth a try, but it really didn't matter that much. What mattered was that I was going to be standing on that gold podium, looking down at Gabriela. I held my towel firmly around myself.
"Ladies and gentlemen," announced Owen Harris. "Tonight, we've witnessed history being made as these women competed in the first ever tiebreaker event of these great games. Without further ado, let me present our medalists."
"Winning bronze, and representing Russia, Irina Alexandrov!"
Irina was greeted with warm applause as she stepped onto the lowest of the three podiums. One of the men in suits stepped forward along with the girl carrying the bronze medal tray. Dramatic music played as he put the medal around her neck and shook her hand. Another one of the suits approached and handed her the flowers on the tray.
Owen let her wave and enjoy the moment before moving on. "Winning silver, and representing Brazil, Gabriela Santos!"
The applause was louder for her, but the look on her face made it clear she didn't care. She was pissed that she didn't win gold. Her frowning face was a million times better than her smug smile.
She received her silver medal and flowers and then it was my turn. It felt like I couldn't breathe. This is really happening.
"And finally, winning gold for the United States of America, Alina Smith!"
I was met with thunderous applause as I waved to the audience and stepped onto the gold medal platform. I had imagined this moment a million times, but never quite like this. In my dreams, I was always fully clothed and surrounded by my volleyball team. Oh well.
I bent down to allow the old guy in the suit to put the gold medal around my neck.
"Congratulations," he said, shaking my hand.
"Thank you," I said.
Another guy came up to give me flowers.
The suits walked away and the crowd cheered some more. I waved back at them and looked around, soaking in every detail of this moment. The crowd cheering, the American flag above my head, the pissy look on Gabriela's face. It was all perfect.
Except one thing. I thought about the first thing that Bryce had done when he had won his gold. He had run toward me. Would he want me to run toward him? After everything I had just done to win? I looked toward the side of the stage. A fe
w of the backup dancers were standing there with towels around their waists. Their masks were off. But none of them were Bryce.
"This is bullshit," Gabriela said. "You should be disqualified." She was still trying to wipe away the cum that I had gotten on her.
"I would have thought a slut like you would be used to being covered in cum. Or are you not good enough to make guys cum?"
"Fuck you." She looked like she was about to cry.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Owen. "Please stand for the national anthem of the United States of America."
The Star-Spangled Banner started playing in the speakers. I put my hand over my heart. Luckily the towel was covering up my chest so that I wouldn't be sticking my hand in cum.
As I stood there listening to the music, my horniness subsided and a horrible realization swept over me. What the fuck did I just do? Before the performance I had been horrified by the thought of stripping down to my underwear in front of the cameras. And then I had come out here and had sex. No, sex wasn't a strong enough word for what I did. I got fucked by a bunch of strangers and took an insanely big dick in my ass. Those things would forever be available on the internet for anyone to view, if they hadn't seen it already. Images flooded into my head of me introducing myself to someone and them saying, "Oh, I know you. You sure are good at taking a cumshot."
And what is Bryce going to think of me? He had to have been one of the guys fucking me, but I didn't understand why he didn't take his mask off to stop me. It was super weird that I didn't even know if the man I love had just had sex with me.
The national anthem ended and the crowd cheered again for me.
The man I love. I was in love with Bryce. But there was no way he'd want me now. Not after everything I had just done.
I turned toward the side of the stage again. And there he was. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and his lips were set in a straight line. He had a black eye. And there was blood under his nose. Oh my God. My chest started to hurt. It felt like I couldn't breathe.
