Madison's Halloween Predicament -- Chapter 3
Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2022 3:38 am
Chapter 3
After an abbreviated Friday, Madison raced home to spend her weekend in frenzied masturbation. Something about the videos just resonated with her. Probably it was the number of times that Kristen had made her watch them. A few hours of watching porn over and over again, without any release because your friend is sitting right there with you, well that's enough to put anybody in a horny mood. Plus, Madison had been working a lot lately, and she didn't have anything she had to prepare for next week, so why not relax and enjoy yourself when you have a chance?
Fifteen bucks a video added up fast though. Madison had told herself "just one more" about eight times before she finally broke down and just paid for a month-long subscription to the site, which was another hundred. Then she discovered that the month subscription only gave you access to the videos from *this* month. If you wanted older videos, site-wide access was more.
"Wow, they really churn these out. Must keep a lot of porn stars employed," she thought. She hesitated to upgrade. How many of these did she really need to see? Access to all of last year would cost her another 500 bucks.
"How much did Kristen spend on this? What level of access had she purchased?"
Madison skimmed through the previews of the last few months. While most were generally the same, every month had one or two special videos that really stood out. March had a busload of sorority girls. April, a large group headed to a 'women in business' conference. May, some European soccer team that had gotten lost. June, a bunch of left-wing college chicks headed to a protest somewhere. It was so creative how they dealt with the "cattle call" videos, coming up with some kind of sexy, but also humiliating and funny disposition for a large group of women. The business women were put to work on a naked chain gang, picking up trash on the roadway, while the college protesters were shipped off to some kind of fetish mental asylum. The protester preview clip ended with a few seconds of tantalizing footage, a dozen girls in straitjackets and nothing else, heads shaved bald, feet up in stirrups as a buxom nurse attached electrode patches to their bare pussies. Madison clicked 'purchase' on that one immediately.
Her favorites were the videos that took women in their 30s and implied that they were going to be subjected to continuous sexual degradation. Not all the videos ended with women receiving years of judicially-mandated carnal enslavement, of course. Most of them ended with something like "Tiffany was held for ten days in the city jail, got 3 square meals (and 3 thorough searches) a day, and was released after paying a $50 fine." Or "Laurie spent five weeks working in the county brothel before the mixup was discovered, and all charges were dismissed."
All of these stories were so intriguing. It just seemed so much more fun than helping her clients fight over who got the Harry Potter dinner plate collection. Her selection of men had been pretty limited lately. Most guys ran screaming when they found out she specialized in divorce law. It was like she had "man-hating bitch" tattooed on her forehead. It wasn't true, but tell that to the men she had met. They were all so wishy washy, and intimidated by her. None of them were what she considered "real men", and it left a gaping void in her that had clearly gone unfulfilled. And oh boy, did she need her void filled.
Without really thinking of what she was doing, or more accurately, specifically *avoiding* thinking about it, Madison bought a subscription for the previous two years of videos.
A moment later she bolted up straight on the couch.
"Oh shit. That's a thousand dollars." She looked for the cancel button for 45 minutes. There wasn't one.
"I wonder if Kristen spent a thousand bucks on porn." She got the feeling that Kristen had.
After her weekend marathon of self-pleasure and shameful spending, Madison buckled down and spent the next three weeks buried in her work. The end of September came and went, and the leaves outside had started to change color before she finally came up for air. It was getting on to be late October, and the Halloween decorations were out in her neighborhood. She had put the videos aside, simply being too busy to let herself slip back into such an indulgence again. But they had never been far from her mind.
It was a Wednesday when she texted Kristen to see if they could meet for a drink after work. She needed to talk to somebody about those videos, and with Kristen she could at least play it off. No response came and so Madison went home that evening without the chance for girl talk. It wasn't until Friday that she finally became concerned. The message indicated 'delivered' and not 'read', which meant that Kristen had either lost her phone, or was purposefully avoiding her. And Kristen had always been a conscientious friend, answering messages and returning calls as quickly as possible. Leaving a message unread for two days wasn't like her at all.
Madison called her, and the phone went straight to voicemail. Social media messages likewise went unanswered. Becoming concerned, Maddie called Kristen's office.
"I'm sorry, but Doctor Harmon is out of the office. No, I don't know when she'll be back. She has had a family emergency."
Something didn't seem right. Madison knew all of Kristen's family, was friends with them online. She had seen no posts indicating that anybody had so much as the sniffles. She went to their pages. Sure enough, there were Kristen's parents, on vacation in Europe right now.
Worrying that something might be seriously wrong, Madison decided to investigate. She drove over to Kristen's house and used the spare key to let herself inside. Kristen had locked herself out half a dozen times, and so had three different keys hidden around the backyard. Three keys, of course, because if you only have one, you'll let yourself in, set it on the kitchen counter, and forget about it. Then the next time you lock yourself out, the spare key will be sitting there inside the house where you can't get it.
Nothing in the house seemed out of place. No signs of a break-in, nothing turned upside down, and no friend dead from auto-erotic asphyxiation. Kristen's car was gone. Maybe she just took a vacation, lied about where she went? And then as Madison walked by the den, the computer caught her eye. The monitor was still on, screen saver showing pictures of beautiful landscapes.
"No, she couldn't have..."
Madison walked over to the desktop computer and jiggled the mouse. A password screen appeared. Madison looked around, and found a yellow sticky note attached to the desk under the keyboard. She smiled. People who are both forgetful and responsible leave notes for themselves.
'Tequilasunrise01!' and the password screen dissolved to reveal Kristen's last activity, and to confirm Madison's worst fears.
More than thirty tabs were open, most of them either mugshot pages from the last few years, or videos that had been paused at various times. The other tabs were random internet searches for women's names, social media pages for people she didn't know, and Google Map searches that just showed empty highways.
"If she's been watching videos from several years, she spent a *lot* more than I did," Madison thought. She somehow derived comfort from the idea that her friend *also* had a greedy little void that needed filled. And then in her mind, she saw Kristen sitting in the office chair, legs draped over each arm, jaw slack and drooling, eyes vacant and glassy. She was 20 minutes into a 90 minute video, desperately fucking herself with a zucchini, but she couldn't cum yet. No, they wouldn't *let* her cum until the video had finished.
Where had *that* thought come from? She didn't know, but the idea made Madison clench her thighs together as a wave of heat surged through her nether regions. She could feel her lower lips squish against each other. Her breathing was ragged, she was slick and ready. Trembling, her hand slowly descended from the keyboard, coming to a rest on the outside of her jeans. Her fingers lightly drummed a silent beat and a soft moan escaped her throat. But there was no time for that, her friend was missing. Steeling her resolve, Madison bit down hard on one of her hands and forced herself to concentrate.
It was time for Maddie Rogers, Girl Detective, to take a crack at this case and find her friend.
It was late in the night before she could make any sense of what was going on. Madison had watched and rewatched the videos that Kristen had open multiple times. She scanned every inch of the screen at the paused time stamps, trying to find a clue. And she had meticulously examined every social media page that Kristen had open, as well as the map searches.
As close as she could tell, Kristen had found the place where they filmed the videos. There was a water tower in the background of one scene. The paused footage showed a large breasted brunette "college professor" bent over the hood of her car, completely nude. Her face was turned back towards the camera, mouth open in a comical "O" shape. A policeman already had two large fingers jammed up her asshole, and was starting to work in a third. Just over the woman's left shoulder, you could see the tops of trees and a white and blue striped water tower.
On the map search, Kristen had found the water tower. There was no town nearby, of course, let alone one with such a goofy name. But it was fairly clear that this scene, at least, had been filmed on that particular lonely country road. It was winter on the map, not summer, but it was definitely the same place.
One of the social media pages belonged to a woman who looked suspiciously similar to the porn actress in the video. And yes, it appeared that Rachel Sanderson here taught a women's studies course at a junior college in Virginia somewhere. "I guess teaching junior college doesn't pay all that well, considering her foray into porn," she thought. Or the resemblance was just a coincidence. Madison couldn't tell for sure if it was the same woman. One was holding up a #MeToo sign, the other had a man's hand halfway up her ass. Maddie leaned closer to the screen. Was that a tattoo? The woman being searched had a blue tattoo design on her right wrist, some type of tribal markings. She couldn't be certain, but the college professor *might* have the same kind of design in the same place. The angle of the picture was wrong and she couldn't tell. Not for sure.
So Kristen had been doing some sleuthing of her own. Okay, now that she found where they were filming this, what did she intend to do about it?
Madison thought for a while, and then decided that if she was going to violate her friend's privacy, she might as well do it all the way. She went to Kristen's bookmarks and scrolled to her bank's site. The account info auto-populated, and after entering the same password, she was in.
She was now snooping around in her friend's bank account. Maddie looked at the most recent expenditures. The last charges were from seven days ago. Dinner at some restaurant in Nowheresville, Alabama, and a motel stay in a nearby town the same night. The morning after, she filled up her car with gas. Nothing since then.
Of course, the lack of activity didn't mean anything. Kristen could have paid cash for some things, and very likely did. She also undoubtedly had other cards she could have used. After all, the expenditures for this site weren't showing up on her bank account (Madison had checked). Or maybe it was just taking a while for new charges to show up. Sometimes those didn't show up on your account for days.
So why the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? She didn't know what she was worrying about, but she *was* worried. Who knows what trouble Kristen was likely to get herself in, particularly if she went down to Hicksville and started accusing the local cops of kidnapping women.
Madison looked at the map. It was 8 hours from Indianapolis to the road with the water tower, right on the border of Mississippi and Alabama, smack dab in the middle of the two states. She sighed, and resolved to go down there to find her friend.
The first step was to copy the addresses of all the open tabs and email them to herself. Madison then quietly locked the house up, replacing the spare key where it was supposed to go in the unused charcoal grill. She drove home that night and packed a suitcase, then texted Denise at work telling her there was an emergency and she'd be gone for a few days. Denise was in law school and had an intern's license, she could reset any cases that were on the calendar until Maddie came back.
Then she got a large zucchini out of her refrigerator and ensured she would get a good night's rest.
After an abbreviated Friday, Madison raced home to spend her weekend in frenzied masturbation. Something about the videos just resonated with her. Probably it was the number of times that Kristen had made her watch them. A few hours of watching porn over and over again, without any release because your friend is sitting right there with you, well that's enough to put anybody in a horny mood. Plus, Madison had been working a lot lately, and she didn't have anything she had to prepare for next week, so why not relax and enjoy yourself when you have a chance?
Fifteen bucks a video added up fast though. Madison had told herself "just one more" about eight times before she finally broke down and just paid for a month-long subscription to the site, which was another hundred. Then she discovered that the month subscription only gave you access to the videos from *this* month. If you wanted older videos, site-wide access was more.
"Wow, they really churn these out. Must keep a lot of porn stars employed," she thought. She hesitated to upgrade. How many of these did she really need to see? Access to all of last year would cost her another 500 bucks.
"How much did Kristen spend on this? What level of access had she purchased?"
Madison skimmed through the previews of the last few months. While most were generally the same, every month had one or two special videos that really stood out. March had a busload of sorority girls. April, a large group headed to a 'women in business' conference. May, some European soccer team that had gotten lost. June, a bunch of left-wing college chicks headed to a protest somewhere. It was so creative how they dealt with the "cattle call" videos, coming up with some kind of sexy, but also humiliating and funny disposition for a large group of women. The business women were put to work on a naked chain gang, picking up trash on the roadway, while the college protesters were shipped off to some kind of fetish mental asylum. The protester preview clip ended with a few seconds of tantalizing footage, a dozen girls in straitjackets and nothing else, heads shaved bald, feet up in stirrups as a buxom nurse attached electrode patches to their bare pussies. Madison clicked 'purchase' on that one immediately.
Her favorites were the videos that took women in their 30s and implied that they were going to be subjected to continuous sexual degradation. Not all the videos ended with women receiving years of judicially-mandated carnal enslavement, of course. Most of them ended with something like "Tiffany was held for ten days in the city jail, got 3 square meals (and 3 thorough searches) a day, and was released after paying a $50 fine." Or "Laurie spent five weeks working in the county brothel before the mixup was discovered, and all charges were dismissed."
All of these stories were so intriguing. It just seemed so much more fun than helping her clients fight over who got the Harry Potter dinner plate collection. Her selection of men had been pretty limited lately. Most guys ran screaming when they found out she specialized in divorce law. It was like she had "man-hating bitch" tattooed on her forehead. It wasn't true, but tell that to the men she had met. They were all so wishy washy, and intimidated by her. None of them were what she considered "real men", and it left a gaping void in her that had clearly gone unfulfilled. And oh boy, did she need her void filled.
Without really thinking of what she was doing, or more accurately, specifically *avoiding* thinking about it, Madison bought a subscription for the previous two years of videos.
A moment later she bolted up straight on the couch.
"Oh shit. That's a thousand dollars." She looked for the cancel button for 45 minutes. There wasn't one.
"I wonder if Kristen spent a thousand bucks on porn." She got the feeling that Kristen had.
After her weekend marathon of self-pleasure and shameful spending, Madison buckled down and spent the next three weeks buried in her work. The end of September came and went, and the leaves outside had started to change color before she finally came up for air. It was getting on to be late October, and the Halloween decorations were out in her neighborhood. She had put the videos aside, simply being too busy to let herself slip back into such an indulgence again. But they had never been far from her mind.
It was a Wednesday when she texted Kristen to see if they could meet for a drink after work. She needed to talk to somebody about those videos, and with Kristen she could at least play it off. No response came and so Madison went home that evening without the chance for girl talk. It wasn't until Friday that she finally became concerned. The message indicated 'delivered' and not 'read', which meant that Kristen had either lost her phone, or was purposefully avoiding her. And Kristen had always been a conscientious friend, answering messages and returning calls as quickly as possible. Leaving a message unread for two days wasn't like her at all.
Madison called her, and the phone went straight to voicemail. Social media messages likewise went unanswered. Becoming concerned, Maddie called Kristen's office.
"I'm sorry, but Doctor Harmon is out of the office. No, I don't know when she'll be back. She has had a family emergency."
Something didn't seem right. Madison knew all of Kristen's family, was friends with them online. She had seen no posts indicating that anybody had so much as the sniffles. She went to their pages. Sure enough, there were Kristen's parents, on vacation in Europe right now.
Worrying that something might be seriously wrong, Madison decided to investigate. She drove over to Kristen's house and used the spare key to let herself inside. Kristen had locked herself out half a dozen times, and so had three different keys hidden around the backyard. Three keys, of course, because if you only have one, you'll let yourself in, set it on the kitchen counter, and forget about it. Then the next time you lock yourself out, the spare key will be sitting there inside the house where you can't get it.
Nothing in the house seemed out of place. No signs of a break-in, nothing turned upside down, and no friend dead from auto-erotic asphyxiation. Kristen's car was gone. Maybe she just took a vacation, lied about where she went? And then as Madison walked by the den, the computer caught her eye. The monitor was still on, screen saver showing pictures of beautiful landscapes.
"No, she couldn't have..."
Madison walked over to the desktop computer and jiggled the mouse. A password screen appeared. Madison looked around, and found a yellow sticky note attached to the desk under the keyboard. She smiled. People who are both forgetful and responsible leave notes for themselves.
'Tequilasunrise01!' and the password screen dissolved to reveal Kristen's last activity, and to confirm Madison's worst fears.
More than thirty tabs were open, most of them either mugshot pages from the last few years, or videos that had been paused at various times. The other tabs were random internet searches for women's names, social media pages for people she didn't know, and Google Map searches that just showed empty highways.
"If she's been watching videos from several years, she spent a *lot* more than I did," Madison thought. She somehow derived comfort from the idea that her friend *also* had a greedy little void that needed filled. And then in her mind, she saw Kristen sitting in the office chair, legs draped over each arm, jaw slack and drooling, eyes vacant and glassy. She was 20 minutes into a 90 minute video, desperately fucking herself with a zucchini, but she couldn't cum yet. No, they wouldn't *let* her cum until the video had finished.
Where had *that* thought come from? She didn't know, but the idea made Madison clench her thighs together as a wave of heat surged through her nether regions. She could feel her lower lips squish against each other. Her breathing was ragged, she was slick and ready. Trembling, her hand slowly descended from the keyboard, coming to a rest on the outside of her jeans. Her fingers lightly drummed a silent beat and a soft moan escaped her throat. But there was no time for that, her friend was missing. Steeling her resolve, Madison bit down hard on one of her hands and forced herself to concentrate.
It was time for Maddie Rogers, Girl Detective, to take a crack at this case and find her friend.
It was late in the night before she could make any sense of what was going on. Madison had watched and rewatched the videos that Kristen had open multiple times. She scanned every inch of the screen at the paused time stamps, trying to find a clue. And she had meticulously examined every social media page that Kristen had open, as well as the map searches.
As close as she could tell, Kristen had found the place where they filmed the videos. There was a water tower in the background of one scene. The paused footage showed a large breasted brunette "college professor" bent over the hood of her car, completely nude. Her face was turned back towards the camera, mouth open in a comical "O" shape. A policeman already had two large fingers jammed up her asshole, and was starting to work in a third. Just over the woman's left shoulder, you could see the tops of trees and a white and blue striped water tower.
On the map search, Kristen had found the water tower. There was no town nearby, of course, let alone one with such a goofy name. But it was fairly clear that this scene, at least, had been filmed on that particular lonely country road. It was winter on the map, not summer, but it was definitely the same place.
One of the social media pages belonged to a woman who looked suspiciously similar to the porn actress in the video. And yes, it appeared that Rachel Sanderson here taught a women's studies course at a junior college in Virginia somewhere. "I guess teaching junior college doesn't pay all that well, considering her foray into porn," she thought. Or the resemblance was just a coincidence. Madison couldn't tell for sure if it was the same woman. One was holding up a #MeToo sign, the other had a man's hand halfway up her ass. Maddie leaned closer to the screen. Was that a tattoo? The woman being searched had a blue tattoo design on her right wrist, some type of tribal markings. She couldn't be certain, but the college professor *might* have the same kind of design in the same place. The angle of the picture was wrong and she couldn't tell. Not for sure.
So Kristen had been doing some sleuthing of her own. Okay, now that she found where they were filming this, what did she intend to do about it?
Madison thought for a while, and then decided that if she was going to violate her friend's privacy, she might as well do it all the way. She went to Kristen's bookmarks and scrolled to her bank's site. The account info auto-populated, and after entering the same password, she was in.
She was now snooping around in her friend's bank account. Maddie looked at the most recent expenditures. The last charges were from seven days ago. Dinner at some restaurant in Nowheresville, Alabama, and a motel stay in a nearby town the same night. The morning after, she filled up her car with gas. Nothing since then.
Of course, the lack of activity didn't mean anything. Kristen could have paid cash for some things, and very likely did. She also undoubtedly had other cards she could have used. After all, the expenditures for this site weren't showing up on her bank account (Madison had checked). Or maybe it was just taking a while for new charges to show up. Sometimes those didn't show up on your account for days.
So why the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? She didn't know what she was worrying about, but she *was* worried. Who knows what trouble Kristen was likely to get herself in, particularly if she went down to Hicksville and started accusing the local cops of kidnapping women.
Madison looked at the map. It was 8 hours from Indianapolis to the road with the water tower, right on the border of Mississippi and Alabama, smack dab in the middle of the two states. She sighed, and resolved to go down there to find her friend.
The first step was to copy the addresses of all the open tabs and email them to herself. Madison then quietly locked the house up, replacing the spare key where it was supposed to go in the unused charcoal grill. She drove home that night and packed a suitcase, then texted Denise at work telling her there was an emergency and she'd be gone for a few days. Denise was in law school and had an intern's license, she could reset any cases that were on the calendar until Maddie came back.
Then she got a large zucchini out of her refrigerator and ensured she would get a good night's rest.