You’d need to know exactly where the nightclub was to find it. Go down a narrow alley after 10 o’clock and half-way down, if you squinted, you’d begin to notice a narrow, open door, blocked by a dark velvet rope and an enormous bouncer on a stool.

The club had no sign, and it had no name, but when Barbara led Sally, Alex and Eugenie down the stairway single-file, the girls found it packed to bursting. The techno, hyperpop music was overwhelming and intoxicating – and the lights, the pulsing, strobing, flashing lights were so… so… entrancing…

Barbara Jones owned this night club as a little pilot program. If the new generation hated billionaires, she’d give them a little attitude adjustment.

Barbara told the girls which booth to go to while she went to get drinks. Sally in a miniskirt and mini-T-shirt, Alex in a sweaty singlet and panties, and Eugenie in an unzipped pink hoodie, pink panties and pink thigh-highs had to fend off a dozen horny lads. They didn’t know why Sally’s aunt Baba had brought them there, but… she had… something very important… to show them…

Alex tried to watch Barbara at the bar, but quickly lost her behind a crowd of people. Barbara was certainly the oldest person here, early forties or something. Everyone here was eighteen to twenty-nine, and they acted like it. Alex felt a fight could break out. She could handle that, but she worried about Sally.

“Hey! Hey!” said the DJ, turning the music a little lower. “Eyes on me!”

The clubbers suddenly stopped, like obedient students, just looking at the DJ high on his platform as multi-coloured light strobed down their faces. 

“Who here loves billionaires!”

The crowd cheered.

“And who’s your favourite billionaire?”

“Barbara Jones!”

“Babs!”

“Ms Jones!”

The DJ shouted, “I can’t hear you!”

All at once, they said in unison, “Barbara Jones!”

“Well, let me tell you who hates Barbara Jones – those fat cats in city hall. They want to raise taxes, raise the minimum wage – make it impossible for Ms Jones to keep your favourite night club open!”

“Boo!”

“Fuck them!”

“They can suck my cunt!”

“Let your voices be heard!” A QR code was projected on the wall above the DJ. “Let the fat cats, the lying politicians, know that you will not let them step on Ms Jones!”

Everyone took out their phone, following the QR to a page where they could contact their representatives.

“And how will you vote on Prop 56?”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

Alex had gotten to her feet, Eugenie too. The lights were softening their brains, but they had just enough critical thinking left to know that something… something was not right. Sally was snuggled in the corner of the booth, pumping her finger in her cunt.

Barbara returned to the table with three big glasses on a tray.

Alex said, “They’re doing something!”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” said Barbara, laying down the tray.

Eugenie said, “There’s… There’s…”

“Nothing to worry about.” Barbara waved at the DJ and the QR code and the obedient crowd of billionaire-loving youngsters. “That’s not important.”

“Not important…” said Alex.

“In fact, you feel so stupid for getting so worked up.”

“I’m..” Alex planted her ass down and crossed her arms. “I’m not stupid. I didn’t care. I just thought it was weird.”

Eugenie sat down. “Yeah… Weird…”

Barbara had on her contact lenses, which simulated severe colour blindness, so she had nothing to worry about from the lights.

The three girls were on one side of the booth, and Barbara Jones was on the other.

“Well, you gonna show us what’s so fucking important?” said Alex.

“What I have to show you comes later. Don’t worry about it. You all need to just relax. How about a little game? Ever heard of truth-or-dare?”

Alex groaned, Sally fantasised about getting dared to be spitroasted, and Eugenie blushed at her memories.

Eugenie had already taken a few gulps of her drink, so those memories just flowed out, “For freshers week they made me streak through the faculty building.”

The thought of running around naked sent Sally’s hand deeper in her cunt.

“Christ, we’re not in high school!” Alex barked.

“You will enjoy playing truth-or-dare,” said Barbara. “You are excited to play truth-or-dare. Thinking of playing truth-or-dare makes your cunt wet.

“Wha…” Alex’s cunt was moist, but she wasn’t sure if she’d heard Sally’s aunt right.

“I just you’ll enjoy it. How about a round or two?”

“F-fine!” said Alex.

“Good girl,” said Barbara. “I’ll be first in the leader’s chair.” She silently eenie-meenie-miney-moed the girls, and landed on Sally.

“Truth or **dare**, Dummy?”

“Dare!” Maybe she’d be dared to cum.

“I dare you…” Barbara let the girl grind her thighs together as she stroked her chin. “I dare you to crawl onto the dance floor like a horny dog, humping all the dancers legs.”

Sally was against the wall in the booth, so she had to clamber onto the table, on all fours, knocking over drinks glasses, spilling down onto Alex and Eugenie’s panties. Sally barked and hopped onto the ground, scampering to the dance floor. 

The political messaging had ended, and the crowd was back to partying. The first girl to get Sally’s snout in her crotch screamed before laughing in the dumb dog’s face. Sally humped the girl’s leg, getting her wet thighs all over the girl’s torn denim jeans. The girl filmed Sally with her phone, while shouting her friends to come over and watch the crazy slut. The girl’s friend, an H-cupped girl, pulled up her dress and told Sally to come and get it. Sally’s nose nuzzled against her panties. This girl pushed Sally off, took off her panties, and made Sally fetch them at the other end of the dance floor. Sally bounded like a Great Dane through the thick crowd of dancers.

“Now for…” Barbara tick-tocked her finger between Alex and Eugenie. “Eugenie, I hear you're a real hacker, a real wiz at getting into other people’s business. I guess it’s a fitting irony then that you get off on having your private bits exposed for the whole world to see.”

Eugenie only ever used pseudonyms online, had five-layers of VPNs, and never let a picture of herself get online. But as Barbara spoke she felt a shameful kink being uncovered.

“You’re an exhibitionist, a slut who loves when strangers see your naked body.”

Eugenie’s nipples hardened beneath her hoody. She leant forward, her hands on the bench between her thighs.”

“So, my little exhibitionist, truth or dare?”

“Dare…”

“I dare you – to get twenty separate selfies done – with your tits out, or your cunt, or maybe a cock in your mouth, maybe getting railed from both ends. I dare you to get twenty selfies you wouldn’t dare show your professors.” Barbara knew exactly who she’d be sending these selfies to first.

Eugenie stepped over Alex’s legs, stripping off her hoody, her tits bouncing free.

Barbara shouted after her, “And make sure they post them to their socials. Hashtag Hacker Whore!”

Eugenie went first to a gaggle of girls already crowded together for a photo, bent at the knees, doing peace signs. As they were snapping the pic, Eugenie burst out behind them with her tits out. Needless to say, Eugenie became very popular. Two lesbians got a pic of them kissing one of Eugenie’s tits each. One guy stuck his head between her thighs while another had his balls in her mouth. A group of burly guys hoisted her up, two holding one thigh each, two holding one arm each, five jacking off onto her face and belly. By photo five, Eugenie had lost count, perfectly content to go all night.

“Lucky last,” said Barbara.

Alex sneered and leaned back further into the bench. “What pervy shit have you got?”

“Have you ever been felt up, Alex?”

“What?” Alex hissed.

“Felt up? Molested? Groped?”

“Last guy who tried that has a broken wrist.”

“But deep down, Alex, don’t you wish you had been too weak to stop him. It makes you horny, Alex, to think someone could just grab your ass and you’d be too weak to stop them.”

Alex remembered that cunt who felt up her ass, and the fury that she’d felt… the fury that was quickly becoming a fire in her pussy.

“F-fuck are you on about?”

“There’s no shame that you have fantasies about being a weak, little slut who can’t fight back. In fact, you are weak. All those muscles are just for show. You are as weak as a kitten. You’ve never won a fight in your life. Have you, Alex?”

How had Sally’s aunt found out her secret? “Wh… No… I’m…”

“But you’re glad you’re weak. It means that if a burly guy, or a strapping girl, or really anyone, decided to have their way with you, you could do nothing at all to stop them. It makes you wet, Alex, knowing how weak you are.”

“Pfff! Sexist shit!” But her cunt was wet. Her body needed a hand on it. Her thighs had parted under the table, and she needed to be groped.

“Truth or dare?”

“Tr… Dare…”

“I dare you to be fondled, manhandled, violated by ten different people. You can try to fight back – but you’re weak as a kitten, but then again, failing to fight makes you even wetter, doesn’t it?”

Alex had just been waiting for her to finish talking. She dashed to the dance floor. She didn’t have flirtatious subtlety. She’d never really flirted at all before. Guys liked tits. She stuck out her chest, but her muscled washboard had nothing to show. No one was talking. God, she needed a hand on her. She pulled off her sweaty singlet and pulled down her wine-soaked panties.

“Would someone fuck me!”

That did the trick. A mohawked lesbian grabbed her by the cunt from behind. Another butch grinded against her front. A massive shouldered smiling man had his enormous pecs in Alex’s face, and stuck his thumb into her opening mouth. 

Alex had black belts in five martial arts. She twisted and squirmed, but she was as weak as a kitten. And she was so wet. A tongue entered her cunt, and cock filled up her throat.

Barbara sipped her wine as she watched the girls having fun. But she had other business for them tonight. She took out her phone and sent a message to the DJ.

“Hey! Hey!” said the DJ, shouting over the music. “This is a message straight from Ms Jones to three special sluts on the floor! Sally, Alex, Eugenie! If you hear me, shout your slut shout!”

Sally barked and howled as a body-builder fucked face down, ass up. Eugenie was taking a selfie as she rode a guy cowboy style. “Yee-haw!”. And Alex gargled something around the cock in her mouth.

“Girls, your message is – CUM!”

The cock down Alex’s throat was exploding just as the orgasm hit her. She squirted over the lesbian between her legs. Eugenie gripped the hair of the guy she was riding, dropping her phone – its last photo a blurred photo of her biting her lips and trembling through her belly.

And Sally? Ears were ringing as she screamed out the orgasm that had been building for eighteen hours of edging and denial.

When they’d come down, the DJ demanded that they return to their booth. They were now all naked, covered in cum and pussy juice, sweaty, and exhausted.

“Now, girls, I think it’s my turn. Sally, you’re the leader.”

Unlike Alex and Eugenie, Sally’s head was now more clear than before. She was tired, but now she could think of something other than sex. She remembered what Baba had told her.

“Um… Baba, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Baba, who are you?”

Barbara looked the two other girls in the eyes. “I am Barbara Jones.” She gave their sex-exhausted brains enough time to suitably shiver at the revelation. “And I am the most important person in the world. I deserve your total, unquestioning respect and obedience. Snooping around my businesses, trying to ‘expose’ me, was such a bratty, disrespectful, ungrateful thing to do. How dare you investigate me!”

The girls were trembling. How could they have been so blind. But it was obvious now they were wrong, that they were stupid brats just playing detective. After all, this was “truth”.

“And you should be so grateful to me for brainwashing you.”

“Brainwash?” asked Sally.

“You… hypnotised us?” said Alex.

“And you’re so grateful, aren’t you? Would you ever have realised how wonderful I am if I hadn’t taken your little minds away from you?”

“Thank you, Ms Jones!” Eugenie pressed her face to the table and grabbed Alex and Sally’s heads to bow down against the table too. “Thank you for brainwashing us!”

Barbara smirked. “Sally, one last truth or dare for me.”

Knowing that her beloved Baba had brainwashed her was a bit of blindside… but of course it was for the best, and she remembered the last part of the plan Barbara had told her.

“Truth or dare?” Sally asked.

“Dare.”

Sally said, “I dare you to make us your own, personal girl detective slaves. We’ve been brats, trying to undermine you and destroy everything you worked so hard to create. Use us to spy on your rivals, your political enemies.”

“Yeah!” said Alex, eyes watering onto the table. “We have to make it up to you!”

“Yeah, I’ll hack for you,” said Eugenie. “I’ll… I’ll even be your bimbo mascot!”

Barbara Jones cackled at her new slaves. Oh, yes, she’d have fun with them.

***
Of course, because this is one of the adventures of Sally Wu Coed Detective and her Gal Pals, you know that the goodies win in the end. Lachlan, their out-of-town peer in the computer science department, had noticed something was up with the girls. And what’s more, he had degenerative colour blindness, so he was immune to Barbara Jones’ brainwashing lights. He came to their rescue and turned the lights on Ms Jones’ herself.

But that happy ending is a month or so away for our heroines. In the meantime, Sally, Alex, and Eugenie would be Barbara Jones’ happy, helpless, blissfully reverential detective sluts.