Cindy awoke to a strange sound. After listening a bit, she finally realized that it was the sound of a hair dryer. Someone was in the bathroom, drying her hair. For some reason, she was fairly certain it was a woman drying her hair. But, when her brain finally kicked in, she realized that it was probably either Maggie or Karyn, the dancers she shared the waterfront cottage and sometimes beds with.

Cindy also realized that she was lying face-down on the carpet with a dildo in her ass. Reaching down behind her, Cindy slowly pulled the inactive vibrator from her rectum. She assumed that the batteries had died some time during the night while in her ass. She rolled on to her back and sat up on the carpeted floor, wincing and groaning as she did.

She ached all over. Her boobs ached, her pussy ached, and her ass ached. With the inert dildo in her left hand, she used her right hand to rub her sore tits while she acclimated herself to her surroundings. "Getting the lay of the land," one of her clients, Wrangler Dan, a successful horse trainer and avid outdoorsman, often told her. Another one of Dan's sayings was, "feeling 'rode hard and put up wet.'"

For a long time, Cindy didn't know what the hell Wrangler Dan meant, but she certainly knew now. It meant that she was feeling mightily used and abused. Judging from the bottles of Tequila, Vodka, and Rum scattered throughout the bedroom, she concluded that much of it was self-abuse.

As she sat there on the floor, trying the remember the night before, there came a knock on her door. Before, she could answer, the door opened, and Maggie, a tall and busty blonde, stood in the doorway.

"Good mornin', sleepy head," Maggie said cheerfully with a deep Southern drawl. No matter how much abuse Maggie endured, she almost always sounded cheerful. "How're you feelin' this mornin'?"

Maggie was wearing a lowrider jeans and a white cami over a white bra. She had a gym bag slung over her left shoulder. It looked a lot like what Cindy wore last night. But, Maggie put curves to the outfit that Cindy never could, and Cindy never needed a bra.

Did she wear that outfit last night or the night before? Cindy couldn't remember. Suddenly, last night's revelry caught up with Cindy, and she felt sick to her stomach. Cindy immediately dropped the dildo on the carpet and bolted to her feet.

She raced past Maggie and out the door. Then, she was down the hall, through a partially opened bathroom door, and past Karyn, who was busily brushing her teeth. She ended up dropping to her knees before the toilet, lifting the seat, and emptying her belly into the ceramic basin.

Karyn glanced briefly at Cindy bent over the commode but then finished brushing her teeth. She was a pretty African-American with shoulder-length dark brown hair, a moderate bust, and of average height. Karyn wore nothing save for the towel around her waist.

"Well," Maggie said as she stood beside of Karyn and sympathetically watched Cindy with her head in the toilet, "I guess that answers my question." Then, she turned back to Karyn and said, "don't forget: we've got rehearsals today at 2 o'clock."

"Yeah, well," Karyn said, turning to face Maggie, "the Boss Lady and I are meeting with the Yacht Club today at 1 o'clock. They want us to host some charity golf tournament they want to do. So, we might be late for practice."

"Okay," Maggie told the shorter woman. Then, the tall white woman leaned over and lightly kissed the shorter black woman on the lips. She said, "then, give Cindy a kiss for me, and I'll see you in a couple of hours - more or less."

"Okay," said Karyn and returned Maggie's kiss. Then, Maggie walked on down the hall as Cindy flushed the toilet. Karyn turned back to Cindy and found the smaller woman sitting on the commode. Karyn grabbed a washcloth off a shelf. She wet the washcloth and handed it to Cindy.

"Don't worry about it," Karyn said after Cindy mumbled her thanks. "You're just the latest to get sick this morning. For some reason, we all woke up feeling sick as dogs. I only hope that it was too much partying and not morning sickness. You have been using protection, lately, haven't you, Cindy?"

"Yeah, always," Cindy said glumly as she washed her face. She'd been taking her birth control pills. And though she couldn't quite recollect all of last night, she did remember her client (Dr. Clint/Clit?) putting on a condom. In fact, she seems to remember him "double-bagging" it. Suddenly, she felt a cramp and her belly emptied through the other end.

"Me, too," Karyn said, wincing as Cindy's bowels opened up, "and Maggie as well. Still, I think I'll make a doctor's appointment for all three of us."

Karyn was a den mother, always protecting her cubs. Maggie was a cheerleader, Karyn was a den mother, and Cindy was a...whore. That's all she felt like at the moment: just a shitty little whore.

"Well, I need to get dressed, and you need to...freshen up. So, I'll see you in a few minutes." Then, Karyn exited the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind her.

Well over thirty minutes later, Cindy plodded into the "parlor" - what the girls called the living room. Karyn was sitting on the loveseat, watching television. Cindy was wearing her pajamas: a white, oversized, man's dress shirt and white panties. Karyn was wearing a navy-blue skirted business suit. Cindy plopped down on the loveseat next to Karyn.

"How are you feeling, sweetie," Karyn said as she turned her attention away from the television to Cindy. On the television was the "TV1 12 o'Clock Report."

"Better," Cindy said with a weak smile. She was feeling better about herself. She was starting to feel less like a slut and more like a trollop.

"Hey, it's like I said, we all went through it this morning. Whatever it was, it only lasts about an hour, and then you're back to your old self," Karyn said. "Anyway, Ms. Jacqui said that our client, Mr. Clint, was very pleased with our performances."

Karyn handed Cindy an envelope. Inside the envelope was a $100 bill and three pictures taken with an instant camera. "That's yours," she explained. "It's a bonus, we each got one."

Though grateful for the added cash, Cindy was more interested in the photos. All three pictures showed some man - Mr. Clint? - fucking Cindy and her two housemates here on some boat. No, it was a ship. That's right, the guy had a yacht, Cindy remembered.

The first showed the guy's hairy ass as he stuffed his condom-covered cock in Maggie's ass while Cindy frigged Maggie's cunt and Karyn reamed the guy's ass. The second showed Karyn and Maggie kissing while Karyn sat on the dude's face, Maggie sat on his lap, and Cindy sucked on Maggie's massive boobs. The third picture showed Cindy squatting over the man's dick while Karyn stuck a vibrator up Cindy's ass, and Maggie squatted over his face.

"I thought his name was Dr. Clint?" Cindy asked as she studied the pictures. What Cindy finally noticed was that the pictures did not show the guys face, at least not clearly. Also, if the four of them were all in the pictures, then who the hell took it?

"Yeah, well, I thought he said his name was 'Mister' Black," Karyn said, studying what Cindy was wearing. "Anyway, I don't know if you heard, but Ms. Jacqui and I have a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce today in about half an hour. Then, we've got dance rehearsals an hour later."

"Today? I thought that the next rehearsals weren't scheduled until Friday," Cindy said.

"Today is Friday," Karyn said gently but firmly.

"Bullshit! What happened to Tuesday?" Cindy asked angrily.

"I wish I knew," Karyn said wistfully. "All I know for certain is that you called us up Wednesday night and begged us to join you and Mr./Dr. Whoever on his boat. Then, we partied and screwed until we somehow ended up here. At least, that's the way I remember it. However, my mind is still rather fuzzy."

"Shit!" Cindy said, in shock. "I remember meeting the dude Monday night and getting diddled by him. And, I'm starting to remember doing some of the things in these pictures. But, between Monday night and this morning it's all.... Shit!"

"I understand," Karyn said sympathetically.

"Anyway, I was trying to find out how hot it's supposed to be today," Karyn said, returning her attention to the television screen. On the screen, two handsome people sat behind the "TV1 News Desk." There was an impeccably dressed white guy with meticulously groomed blond hair, and a stylishly coiffed and fashionably dressed black chick. Each one had a wide smile plastered to their faces.

Chuck, the white dude was saying, "and in local news, the President has asked former state senator, Erin Walsh, to join his Violence Against Women task force." As Chuck spoke, the image of a sharply dressed middle-aged white woman appeared over his right shoulder.

Cindy took one look at the image and muttered, "Irish Waltz." Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach again. She leapt up from the coach and ran back to the bathroom.

"Hey!" Karyn called after her. "Don't worry about rehearsals!. If I don't see you there, I'll just tell them you're still hung-over!"

"Many political observers, Chuck," Marcia, the black chick said, "think that the task force might be just the next level in Senator Walsh's quest for national office."

"I don't give a dawn about that bitch!" Karyn said angrily and flipped the channel. "I want to find out about the weather!"