May 092014
 

Jane followed Theo up a set of stairs across the room from the golden door. It led up to a hallway filled with more doors, and Jane realized she was looking at the barracks for the IncuBikers. Theo pushed open a door at the far end of the hall with “T.D.” on the small brass nameplate, revealing a small apartment furnished in modern bachelor.

A double bed was pushed into one corner, covers rumpled, with a utilitarian desk facing the opposite wall. There was an open laptop on the desk flipping through a pornographic screensaver. Jane recognized some of the models from the IncuBiker DVDs. One wall was covered floor-to-ceiling with shelves of books and several more lay haphazardly open next to the bed, on the desk, and pretty much everywhere there wasn’t some article of clothing. There was also a large flatscreen TV mounted on the ceiling over the bed.

Theo looked at Jane with a guilty grin. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” He kicked a path through the books and clothes to the bathroom.

“You kidding?” Jane laughed, and waved a hand at the room. “It’s just like my old place.” She dropped her rucksack in the corner, laying her leather jacket over it. Stretching her arms overhead to give Theo a good look at her nipples pushing against the thin cotton babydoll t-shirt. She waggled her fingers towards the suspended plasma TV. “Doesn’t that make you nervous?” Before he could answer she grabbed a large book from the pile on the desk. “Ooh! House of Blue Leaves! I keep hearing about how great this is, and I can’t ever quite finish it!” She dropped the book back to the desk and saw the remote control laying near. Quickly she grabbed it, jumping and turning so that she landed face-up on his bed. She pointed it with both hands like a pistol, aiming up, and pressed some buttons. With a loud click the screen flickered to life revealing a DVD menu for a popular cable series about a family-owned ambulance business.

Jane frowned. “Huh,” she said, looking disappointed. “Here I was hoping for Fashionistas.”

Theo had been watching her antics with an amused look on his face, but he suddenly winced as he inadvertently moved his shoulder. “Sorry to disappoint your porn addiction. You were gonna help me with this graze, remember?”

Jane smiled. “Yeah.” She dropped the remote and bounded out of the bed. “Yeah, I am.” She pushed Theo towards the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, revealingan alarming number of medical supplies, and leaned wearily against the sink.

Jane started by ripping open a gauze pad to stop the oozing blood. The bullet had torn through his T-shirt at the trapezius and the white cotton was stained with blood and sweat. Jane caught Theo’s eye in the mirror as she cleaned the wound. His face was tired, but the strong lines and dark trimmed beard made him look like some mythic Athenian hero. His eyes were dark and searching as he met her gaze in the mirror.

Jane lifted the gauze when the bleeding had mostly stopped and used another to start cleaning around the wound. Her other hand rested lightly on his chest. “I was wondering,” she said softly, ” if you wanted this to be just a patch-and-go.” Her fingers traced their way across his well-defined pec. “Or something more full-service.”

Theo grinned wolfishly. “Oh, I’m all about the service.”

Jane smiled. “Glad to hear it.” There was a metallic schnick-thwack-click and a knife appeared in her hand. In less than a second the edge rested against his throat. Theo didn’t move. He continued to smile at her in the mirror, even when the blade ever-so-gently touched rocked across his throat to press slightly against his jugular.

Jane watched him in the mirror for a moment, then chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t really think you’d be freaked. But isn’t it pretty?” She held the blade in two fingers, still pressed against his throat, revealing the cherry wood of the hilt. He nodded very carefully, watching her in the mirror, and she continued. “I traded it for some jute rope I wasn’t using any more. I’m pretty sure I got the better end of the deal.”

She lifted the blade from his throat and pushed the tip under the collar of his t-shirt. The sharp edge sliced through the material with little effort, and she quickly cut through the other sleeve. The top of his shirt fell away to reveal a scattering of freckles and older scars patterning his muscled shoulders. Jane put her knife between her teeth and impatiently ripped the rest of the shirt away.

She touched a patterned scar down his side gently with one hand. “Rote raff?” she murmured, and seeing his puzzled look, took the knife out of her mouth. “Road rash?” she asked again, and he nodded.

“Laid down my bike to keep from being killed by a Lexus asshole on his cel.” He grimaced as she poured hydrogen peroxide over the wound, watching the white hiss of bubbles. She waited a moment and blotted it with another pad of gauze, then poured again. Finally satisfied that the wound was clean, Jane soaked a washcloth in warm water from the sink and began slowly wiping the grime and sweat off his back with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Is this what you mean by full service?” he grinned, turning as she prodded him around, so that he was resting his ass against the edge of the sink.

Jane kept intensely focused as carefully drew the warm cloth over his hairless chest, apparently oblivious to the way the dripping rag was soaking through her babydoll. Theo grinned down as her hard nipples and breasts were outlined by the transluscent wet cotton.

Jane wiped the washcloth slowly across the skin between his belt and belly button, and then suddenly looked up at him. “You like my tits, boy?” she asked in an aggressive tone, and he looked up with surprise. “Want a better view?” She reached behind him to the sink and grabbed her knife. She put the tip under the edge of her own shirt right over her sternum and sliced up through the low neckline. She grabbed each side of the ragged V-cut and ripped downward. The thin wet cotton became two ragged strips of cloth held in place by her shoulder harness. Her chest and taut stomach were bare, nipples hard and pink, the aureolae a darker rose.

Jane arched, breasts lifting towards Theo like a gift. He accepted her eagerly, dipping down and he taking her left breast deep into his mouth. Jane moaned as his lips enveloped her in warmth. It deepened into a satisfied purr as he lapped at her nipple deep in his mouth. The rough texture of his beard and moustache were delicious counterpoint to the silken wetness of his lips. She dropped the knife uncaring to the floor and tangled her fingers in his hair, burying her face in the dark curls. He smelled of smoke and gasoline, and she felt a tremor go through her pussy as he continued to suck and lick.

She felt him undo her belt and chaps and barely managed to heel her boots off before he was slid the denim and leather down her legs. She kicked them away, naked now but for the leather shoulder harness and shredded babydoll t-shirt. She pressed against him, humming happily as he slid his hands around her ass. Jane tensed her glutes against his tight grasp, pressing hard into his hands. He worked her muscles with the inexorable pressure of a masseur and Jane breathed out a long indulgent sigh and sank further into him. Theo finally released her breast just long enough to take the other into his mouth, and Jane threw her head back with wanton joy.

She cried out as she felt his teeth lighltly bite the nipple. “Fuck, yeah, harder, Theo, make it hurt!” He bit down and her voice echoed strangely in the bathroom as she let out a long “Fuck yessssss…” She disentangled from his lush hair to reach for his belt, loosening it with clever, confident fingers. She unbuckled and unsnapped and unzipped and then his cock was bare, pressed hard between them. She gasped as she wrapped both of her small hands around the unyielding hard shaft. Jane squeezed as hard as she could and he moaned around her nipple.

Reluctantly she pulled free of his mouth and knelt before him, lowering his jeans a little more until she could cup his balls in one hand, the other grasping the base of his cock. She looked up at him, mouth open, lips poised a millimeter from the glistening tip. “If you want, you can fuck my face the way you did that Russian whore, Theo.” Her tongue darted out to lick the underside of the glans, and he gasped. “But you might want to see if you like what I can do by myself, first.” She took him deep into her mouth with hungry abandon.

She traced wild spirals around his cock with her tongue, mouth stretched around his girth. She relaxed her lips soft at first, then suddenly clamped firm around his cock as she slid it in and out, fucking him with her mouth and throat. She coated his cock with saliva until it glistened and then began moved her hand up and down the slick rod, fingers tight. Her other hand flickered tiny taps and scratches just under the base of his shaft, occasionally massaging and lightly tugging on his sac.

She quickened the pace until he was pulling away from the sink to thrust up into her mouth. Jane suddenly tightened her grip on his balls, freezing him mid-arch, her mouth wrapped around just the head of his cock, lips suctioned tight. He was panting, looking down at her, but her eyes were closed as if she were savoring a fine meal. Theo’s eyes widened as he felt her tongue flicking at the tip of his cock, an echo of his own ministrations to her breast earlier.

She extended a finger from the clench of his balls, then, and pushed up against his prostate, eliciting an “Oh, FUCK!” from him as he bucked. Opening her eyes and mouth, she gripped the base of his cock hard, and he felt the impending orgasm stop like it had slammed into a brick wall, leaving him quivering with desire.

“Not yet, big boy,” she teased him, pulling him down towards the floor, nudging him onto his back on the plush bathmat. She turned so her ass was facing him and straddled his chest, peeking playfully over her shoulder at him. His eyes burned with lust but he didn’t say anything. Jane wrapped her fingers around his cock again, holding it tight as she watched his face, seeing his eyes flit from her gaze to her ass and back up again.

“I’m gonna ride your face, Theo, you fucking gorgeous hunk of man. What do you say to that?” Theo didn’t answer, just grabbed her ass with both hands and slammed her hips down towards him. His lips wrapped entirely around her vulva as he furiously attacked her clit with his tongue. He let out a muffled growl and Jane laughed, gasped, and moaned all at the same time. She bent down and wrapped her mouth around his cock, letting it slide in and out. As she relaxed her throat his thrusts pushed deeper, until her face was buried in his dark curls with every stroke. Jane felt his body tense, and she pulled her mouth off of him, pulling his balls up. Her fingers wrapped around the base of the sack and she dug her nails into his skin.

“Oh, no, Theo my boy, I’m not some willing bitch like Ksenja. You’re gonna make me cum, boy, before I let your little soldiers run free.” She ground her pussy down against his face, and he arched his neck, pushing his chin up against her clit as his tongue pushed deeper. “Oh…yes…” she moaned. “Deeper, yes, don’t change that, deeper, goddamnit, fuck me with that tongue, I’m gonna push your whole fucking head into my cunt it feels so good!” She started slapping his hard cock with her free hand, feeling him buck with the sensation, knowing it didn’t really hurt. She raked her fingernails over the taut skin of his balls and slapped even harder as she rode his mouth.

Her own thighs began to tremble with her impending orgasm, and she murmured, “Oh, yes, sweet boy, that’s what I’m talkin’ about…” The rest of her words turned incoherent as she collapsed down on him, his cock pressed up in between her breasts. As she came she began fucked him with her cleavage, pushing her tits together hard as she slid up and down his body. She kept grinding hard against his chin as the she rode the orgasm through screaming release. Finally Theo stopped moving his mouth and she lifted her hips slightly from his slick face.

Jane continued the smooth rhythm of his cock sliding between her breasts, pushing them harder together to give him a tighter fuck. She dipped her head forward with a happy humming noise to lick his balls in long sensuous strokes that made his eyes roll back with pleasure. She felt his cock thicken between her breasts. “Yeah, Theo, baby,” she murmured between licks. “Shoot that cum all over my tits! Cover me, baby, cover me…YES!”

With a savage roar he grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto his face, screaming into her pussy as he filled the space between their bodies with hot spurts of cum. His muffled roar subsided into low growling noises as he relaxed, and Jane let out a low, satisfied chuckle as she felt his cock softening. “Babe, I think I’m gonna have a bruised sternum from this monster.” Rolling off of him, she sat up, looking at his glistening body, glazed with both of their cum from crotch to forehead.

Theo looked at her, looking almost innocent in the afterglow. His mouth opened, and he seemed about to say something, then changed his mind and set his jaw. “Fucking hot!” he growled as he sat up. He winced as he moved his shoulder, and he looked grimly at the blood that had seeped through during the sex. “I think you’ll need to do that dressing again,” he said. Jane wasn’t looking at him anymore, but up past him at the bathroom door.

Theo turned and saw Michael standing there. His brother was frowning the two of them, the slender blonde in nothing but a shredded tee and leather harness, Theo even more naked. Michael’s voice was low and even, highlighting his bitter sarcasm. “Glad you guys had fun. While you’ve been playing I had a very meaningful discussion with Tony. It seems he’s about as thoroughly acquainted with Jane as you are, dear brother.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. It’s not quite sloppy seconds- she didn’t let him dip his wick in her either.” Theo looked away, embarrassed, and them up again, suspicious eyes focused on Jane

Jane didn’t look at him. She watched Michael as if he were a dangerous predator, waiting to see what he would do next. Theo scowled, confused by the dynamic between his brother and the woman sitting naked, still covered in his cum.

Finally Michael broke the silence. “Clean up and come downstairs, Jane. I have a job for you.” Without waiting for acknowledgement he turned and strode out of his brother’s apartment and down the hallway.

“Yes, sir,” Jane called after him. Theo’s scowl turned confused for a moment, and then he forced a playful leer, trying to bluff past his confusion. He reached over and tweaked her nipple, which had gone flat against her breast. Jane slapped his hand away.

“Hey!” he protested. “What’s up with the sass? I think a ‘Thank you, sir‘ would be more appropriate, don’t you?”

Jane looked at him with an incredulous look. “No, that would be for your brother.” Theo frowned, and she patted his head condescendingly as she stood up and grabbed a towel to wipe his jism from between her breasts. “But I do thank you, Theo, for a much-needed tension reliever.” She tossed the towel at him and unbuttoned her left shoulder pouch. She pulled out a tightly-folded black lump of cloth which shook out to reveal a t-shirt identical to the one she’d ripped off earlier. As Theo looked on disbelieving Jane shrugged the shirt on with an easy motion. “Hey, a girl’s gotta be prepared. Too bad we don’t have more time, dear boy.” She patted his cheek. “The other pouch is full of condoms.”

Leaving him there naked on the floor, she grabbed her boots and jeans and was gone.

Jan 142014
 

Whew, chapter 12 is a long ‘un! It’s also proving more time-consuming to edit than I’d expected, but it’s also fucking hot, so I thought I’d post the first half just to give you a taste. A couple of things to note: Bad People do Bad Things. Please do not extrapolate that I condone in any way some of the acts done by or to the characters.

Others, though, I certainly do. I won’t bother to say which is which.

Also, you may notice the sudden change of one character’s appearance. Yes, that was intentional, and in the final draft of the book, the previous chapters will be edited to reflect it. In the meantime, we press FORWARD into the Duel!

Theo shifted restlessly in his chair. Across the room the blonde woman Elsie had come down from the table and was now totally naked, on her knees surrounded by Incubikers. Their cocks jutted out from their unzipped jeans and they were passing her around like a joint, every man taking a hit of her open mouth for a few strokes before handing her off. Elsie’s eyes were vacant and almost rolled up as she opened her mouth for each new cock, spittle and mucus drizzling down her chin and glistening slick on her breasts. She knelt with legs spread, hands furiously masturbating with a desperate grind of her hips. Even at a distance Theo could hear her grunting as she rode her orgasms one after another while the men fucked her face. Nudging Michael, he nodded towards the camera the IncuBikers in the circle were passing around as well, getting closeups of Elsie as she was passed on from cock to cock.

“That’ll be prime content for the our next bukkake title,” he murmured. “I bet we can get her to take a few of them in her ass, too.”

Michael glanced at the group and sniffed dismissively. “Elsie? She doesn’t do anal, brother – at least, not for the kind of green I’m willing to pay. The little bitch still has that ‘I’m young and beautiful and the next Belladonna’ attitude.” He took a sip of beer. “It’ll take a few months to wear her down, but in the end we’ll get her to take it in the ass for next to nothing.”

Theo grinned and he shook his head in amusement. “You’re lucky I’ve already got a money on a different bet tonight, brother, or I’d take your money proving you wrong.” He leaned in towards Michael, voice low and urgent. “I told you – I found something special in New York. It’s big, and it’s gonna make even your sweet Isabella seem like last year’s whore.” Seeing Michael’s skeptical expression, he said “Fine. I’ll give you a little preview.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted over to the blonde. “Yo, Elsie! Listen up!” Continue reading »

Dec 232013
 

Jason was glaring at her before she even opened the glass door to the Hellas Café. In one of the booths Alec was finishing off dinner with Joey, and Jane gave the boy a playful wave of fingers as she walked quickly to the counter. He leaned aggressively towards her, frowning. “Who the fuck was that woman you –” he began, and then stopped as she laid two fingers against his lips. He smelled sandalwood and a kind of clean, oily aroma underneath. It was a familiar smell to him, but he couldn’t remember where…suddenly his eyes widened as he realized she had gun oil on her hands. Jason swallowed, and met her green eyes, focused intently on his.

“No time, boyo. I’m on a very tight schedule. Her name was Nastya. Did my note make sense?”

“Yeah,” he grudgingly allowed. “She’s upstairs sleeping in your room. I gave her some hot cocoa, as you suggested.” His scowl returned. “And I took it off your tab.”

Jane was unfazed. “Good. My kit?”

“Right here.” Lifting a rectangular black hard case from under the table, he looked at her quizzically. “Not to pry, but that looks just like a portable bar kit I once had. Shaker, shot glasses, mixing tools…”

“Right the first time, my sexy barista.” Jane seemed inordinately pleased that he’d recognized it.” She flipped open the case, revealing neatly coiled lengths of rope where the bottles would normally go, and a dizzying array of stainless steel blades, iron clamps, and brass chains neatly arranged under leather straps. “Works remarkably well as a tool kit, as you can see.” She looked over the collection with a critical eye, reaching out and rubbing a smudge off the dark mahogany handle of a butterfly knife. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, and finally seemed to come to a decision. “Hmm…Yes, this’ll work.” She snapped it shut with a satisfied click of the latch, and noticed Jason’s expression, somewhere between confused and worried. “What?” she said, a little defensively “It’s my rope kit!”.

Jason just stared. Jane sighed, setting the case down again. “You haven’t been to many kinky play parties, have you?”

He smiled wryly. “No, I keep my sex where it belongs, between me and my partner and God.”

Jane looked sharply at him, and opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. “I would explain, but as the Spaniard said, no, eet ees too mush. Lemme sum up.” She took a breath, and held up a finger as if giving a lecture. “Ego-driven attention whores such as moi who do frequent such parties –  ” she pirouetted, eliciting a round of applause from Joey in the far booth. “- have kits like this full of our tools. These are a few of my favorite things.” She tapped the case. “Nipple clamps. Blades, for sensation or cutting. Needles and sutures and chains, oh my!” Despite his best efforts, Jason was beginning to smile. “A few carabiners, my graspin’ brass ring for suspension, and about two hundred feet of Twisted Monk Nutella Rope.”

At that, Jason’s grin changed into a shocked O. “Twisted…what? Nutella…rope?” he gibbered. Continue reading »

Dec 202013
 

When they returned to the club, the van had already pulled into the garage and Michael was waiting for them. The Russian women were huddled around him, laughing as he smoked a cigar and bantered in Russian. As Theo and Jane walked towards them she saw the men exchange the smug grins of bandits enjoying the sweet plunder taken from their enemy, Tony.
Michael waved his cigar expansively. “Theo, my brother, someday that techie asshole across the street is going to know better. Meanwhile, this is an awfully fine batch of igrushka you’ve brought me.” He whispered something in the ear of the blonde on his arm, and her eyes widened, but she nodded, sinking to her knees in front of him. “Tanye here is especially fond of cigar service, she says. I’m about to test that claim.”
He looked at her expectantly, and she held up her hands, cupped in front of her. His eyes narrowed, and he growled “Nyet, shliukha.”
Her eyes widened a little more, and she shifted on her knees, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. Michael’s expression was icy and expectant, and eventually she settled, dropping her hands to her lap, and closing her eyes. Taking a breath, she tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide, her tongue sticking out slightly, cupped like a tiny pink bowl.
With a satisfied grunt, Michael tapped the ash of his cigar onto her tongue. Her body tensed, but her mouth remained open, her eyes opening and looking to Michael. He held her gaze for a moment, finally nodding, and she closed her mouth and swallowed. “Spasibo, Pakhan!” she said after a moment, voice a little hoarse. She waited there on her knees until he motioned her to rise.
Michael tried to hide his pleasure as he looked over at Jane, but she could see a slight smile. Showoff she thought. “So. You don’t have a problem with all this? Doesn’t offend some feminist sensibilities or some shit like that?”
Jane shrugged. “What, cigars? I’m a big fan, though I prefer Ashton. I also tend to roll my ash on the tongue, because I usually have plans for it later.” She grinned impudently at him, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Oh, you mean the whores in general? Why would I have a problem with that?” She looked at the half-dozen or so women still unloading their belongings from the van. “They know what they’re here for; just because we’re too stupid over here to make sex work legal doesn’t mean it’s any less of a choice.” She motioned at Tanye, who was rather urgently gulping water from a cooler in one corner of the garage. “That kind of thing? Hey, that’s between you two. I’m all about consent, and Goddess knows I’ve consented to a lot more extreme – well, let’s just say the answer to your question is no, whores and porn and camgirls don’t shock my feminist sensibilities.” She held up a finger. “But don’t get any ideas. I don’t affiliate myself with anyone on more than a short term basis. No offense – this girl just likes the feel of the road under her wheels.”
Theo smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “Fair enough. We’ll talk about those other skills later. You’ll find our audition isn’t quite as easy as that fuckwad Tony. Gonna take more than pussy licking and a foot job. ”
She smiled at him mischievously. “I sure hope so. There’s a reason I bailed on them and came over here, after all.” Continue reading »

Dec 172013
 

Theo Doukas was tinkering with his bike as the rest of the men in the security detail finished putting on their leathers. Jane watched as they strapped various implements of destruction to their bikes, spiked baseball bats, chains, even a large pipe wrench with a rock clamped into the jaws. Their jackets were patched with a Satanic-looking stud grinning and grasping the shapely hips of a naked woman face down and ass up. Along with the “Incubiker” and “Detroit” rockers was the not-so-subtle Latin phrase “FUTUIS MUNDO”.

As Theo became aware of Jane’s presence he glanced over his shoulder, smiling at her puzzled glance. “Wanna know what it means?” he growled with the voice of someone confident with command. He dropped his wrench clanking to the ground as he rose and turned towards her. He was a little over six feet tall and moved with the grace of an experienced martial artist or even a dancer. Wiping the grease from his hands with a black bandana, he tucked it in his left back jean pocket as he looked Jane up and down slowly. His gaze was appraising, not invasive. She returned the look, taking him in from his well-worn but neatly polished engineer boots to his slightly tousled black hair.  Theo’s demeanor was masculine without being macho, and Jane’s smile was more authentic than she’d expected.

She liked him.

“I know what it means,” she said, waving at the motto. “Nice sentiment. Just kind of trying to relate it to my own motto, Futuis viam meam ad Deum.” She watched him carefully to see if he caught the Latin.

Theo blinked thoughtfully. “Hmmm. ‘Fuck the World’ or ‘Fucking My Way to God.’ Never had much use for the big G myself. I like what’s here, what I can take. Speaking of which,” he met her eyes. “Before we start this run, you got to know one thing. I’m told that you’re the tough little bitch that put my crew in the clinic.” He paused as she nodded once. “No biggie, I’m sure they had it coming. But don’t try that shit on me. I won’t make the mistake they did.” As her expression turned puzzled, he smiled grimly. “Thinking that tiny isn’t dangerous.” He lifted his hand as if to brush his hair out of his eyes, and gave a quick flick that Jane couldn’t quite follow.

However, she had no problem feeling the edge of the knife Theo now held at her throat. She didn’t move. Softly, he murmured, “Fuck with me, I will end you.” The tone was almost loving, and Jane wasn’t surprised to find herself turned on. He nodded downward, and she risked a look. His other hand had a Sig Sauer 9mm pistol leveled at her midriff. “Blink once if we’re clear.”

She looked back up at him solemnly, then suddenly grinned and widened her eyes comically before exaggerating a slow blink. Nodding, Theo smoothly reholstered the gun and pushed the blade back into a wrist sheath hidden under the his denim sleeve.

“Damn, you guys really are brothers, aren’t you?” she murmured, and he finally grinned at her. “Yeah. He got the brains, so I had to settle for the looks.” He gestured at her leathers, her jacket, chaps and boots all varying shades of brown incongruous in the garage full of black leather, iron, and chrome. “What’s with the Sky Captain getup?”

She shrugged. “Eh, black leather makes me look pasty. Same reason I’d rather have amber than diamond, any day. I like things that used to be alive to look that way.” She fingered her aviator’s cap, and smiled up at him. “Plus, I used to masturbate with a Rocketeer action figure.” She was gratified to see his eyes widen slightly. Gotcha. “So what’s the plan for this? We’re getting some Russian imports?”

He grunted assent. “You might say that. Tony Bumblefuck across the way was kind enough to facilitate their trip here, and now he seems to think that we’re dumb enough to think he actually needs an fuel truck delivery to his fortress of stupitude. Taking down the tanker is not a big deal – my boys can do that in their sleep – but the whores inside need to be moved quickly into the van.” He waved towards the corner of the garage, where an overweight Incubiker lounged back against a black van with no windows, smoking a cigarette.

“Last two times we had Rich to sweet talk the sluts out of the truck, and that worked fine. He even got a little on the side, just because they like hearing ‘suck my cock’ in Russian.” Theo grimaced. “Seeing as he apparently had a violent conversation with your foot, it’s a good thing you’re fluent in Mother Russian, or we might not be so happy to have you around.” He glanced up past her shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Beecee?”

Jane refused to turn around, just turning her head slightly to where the big man from the alley slouched towards them. Theo looked amused at the man’s surly expression, eyes glaring at the small woman from under a white bandage covering his stitches. “BeeCee, I don’t know that you’ve been formally introduced. Jane, BeeCee. He’s Michael’s left hand man – me, of course, being the right.” Seeing that neither of them were making any move to greet each other, he sighed, as if the father of unruly children. “Right.” He motioned towards the black helmet the giant held in his oversized hands. “What’s with the hardhat, BeeCee?”

The larger man grunted, nodding towards Jane. “Mr. Doukas says she’s supposed to wear it.” As Jane frowned, Beecee grinned mockingly. “It’s the law, bitch. Deal with it.” He held the helmet out just long enough for her to reach for it and then opened his fingers to let it drop.

Jane gave a slight kick, her boot catching the helmet before it hit the floor. It flipped neatly up into her waiting hands with a hard slapping sound. Beecee’s mouth opened for a moment, speechless, then he frowned with annoyance and stomped sulkily to his bike.

Theo watched him, amused. He swung a leg over his own bike and watched Jane as she gracefully mounted the seat behind him. “What was that, more of your kung fu Barbie shit?”

“Nope,” she said, eyes twinkling as she buttoned the helmet strap under her chin. It fit her like a black shiny salad bowl, making her look like a character from a video game. “Hacky sack with the stoners in high school.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning forward. Theo could feel her breasts pressing into his back through the layers of leather. Jane nuzzled against his jacket, breathing in deeply with satisfaction. “Mmmm…Love me some leather. Yum, yum.” For a moment she seemed lost in reverie, then looked up, seeming surprised to see him watching her. “What, like you don’t sleep with your floggers? Let’s go, stud, Mother Russia has some pussy waiting for us.”

He laughed then, but there was no warmth in it. The garage was filled with the roar of exhaust pipes as the bikes rode out of the garage into the Detroit afternoon.

An hour later, Jane was standing on top of the tanker truck, tapping the helmet absently on the against the side of into the dark circle of the opened hatch. To her left the Incubiker team waited impatiently, alternately glaring up at her or nervously along the street, watching for police. Theo stood at the bottom of the ladder on the side of the truck, his face angry and intent. “They want what?” he said loudly, voice filled with frustration.

Jane looked down at him, her expression regretfully bemused. “They want a Hello Kitty vibrator.” She laughed softly at the ridiculous request. “That’s really what they said, Theo. Hey, on the bright side, they’re only asking for one.”

Theo looked up at her suspiciously. “You’re fucking with us, aren’t you? I told you this needs to happen quickly – The money we gave Detroit’s finest only keeps them away for so long. Plus, Beecee’s getting carried away.” He waved towards the big man who was working over the hapless truckdriver. The poor delivery man’s face was bloody and his body sagged between the two Incubikers who held him up for Beecee’s fists.

Jane sighed. “Boss, I would fuck with Beecee from here to wednesday, but I would not fuck with you. I’m seriously telling you, they are insisting that they were promised a ‘hello kitty’ vibrator – ” Jane stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to her. She called down into the tanker for a moment, and when an answering stream of Russian echoed metallically up to her, she started laughing.

“Something to share with the class, Ms. Jane?” Theo did not look amused as she turned to look down at him, chuckling.

“Sorry, boss. My mistake. It’s not ‘hello kitty.’ It’s Kitty LaRue – as in, the ‘great American pornstar’” She shook her head. “Tony promised them that she would be here to greet them”

Tony didn’t look amused. “Where do you get ‘vibrator’ out of that? Do you even speak Russian?”

Jane chuckled again, unfazed by his suspicious tone. “Better than Tony does. Apparently he charmingly referred to Kitty as his ‘fucktoy’.” She shrugged. “Fucktoy, vibrator, same difference to them.” She grinned impudently down at Theo’s scowl and laughed again. “Hey, man, you gotta love cross-cultural communication.”

“Tell them to get their skank asses out of that truck in the next two minutes or I will toss in a match and close the hatch.” Theo turned angrily from the tanker and walked over to the van, yelling at the driver to unlock the back. Jane shrugged and turned back to the hatch, speaking quickly to the sex workers waiting fearfully inside.

A moment later a thin pale hand reached up and she helped the first woman out. She was painfully thin, elegant cheekbones sharply outlined under a shock of ragged black hair. She wore a metallic black tube dress with silver shoulder straps, small breasts barely tenting the fabric as her nipples crinkled in the chilly air. She clutched a tiny bag in her hand, and Jane could see a small book and some loose photographs inside. In spite of her emaciated state she looked inquisitively at Jane, asking a short question.

Jane’s smile turned sad, and she replied with a few short Russian words, trailing off into English. “I’m nobody you need to know, sweetheart. Just go with them.” She motioned towards the bikers.

The Russian woman looked down the ladder at the men waiting below, then back up at Jane. Her voice was earnest to the point of desperation. “We are good fucking! They not be sorry to buying us!”

Jane sighed. “I’m sure they won’t be sorry, you poor sweet slut. But you might be.” She caught the woman’s eye, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “If that happens, let me know. I’ll see what I can do.”

The woman’s expression changed and she suddenly looked disdainful. “What you mean? We LOVE to fuck! And drugs! We are party girls! You said these men give more than Tony and Kitten. You lie?” Seeing Jane shake her head slowly, the Russian laughed, hard and brittle. “So we go with them. We work in America finally! We will find rich man!” Scornfully, she sniffed dismissively at Jane and turned to make her way down the ladder. “You just can’t find man for you!”

Jane just watched her go down into the waiting arms of the leering Incubikers, a hard look in her eyes. As she heard the next prostitute climbing up out of the hatch, she gave a sigh and reached out to help her.

When they were all out and in the van, she and Theo remounted his bike. He looked at her thoughfully. “You did a good job up there. Worth the $1500, easy – we’ll make that back off those girls in a day.” Firing up his engine, he raised his voice over the growl. “I’m kinda surprised, though. Don’t you feel a little guilty? You are tough, but you don’t seem the type for running whores.”

She looked at him evenly. “You’d be surprised at what type of work I’ve done, Mr. Doukas, sexual and otherwise. ” She nodded towards the van as it drove off. “Those girls chose to come here. They chose this kind of work. They knew what they were getting into, even if they convinced themselves it would lead to something else. I call that risk-aware, and as they say back in Mother Russia, ‘not my circus, not my monkeys.’” Her voiced softened just a bit, but there was no regret in it. “I’m no fucking saint, Theo. I just want my money. Speaking of which…”

Theo nodded, and took a hand off the throttle to fish out his cel phone, pressing a number to speed dial and then saying, curtly, “Brother. It’s done. Bitch delivered as promised.” There was a pause, and Theo nodded again. “Good. Later.” Pocketing his cel, he nodded at Jane. “Your money is deposited. Feel free to check.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “No need, I can tell.” She held up her wrist, where a bracelet made from an intricate skein of copper and brass housed a dark green stone. Theo looked puzzled, but Jane simply smiled, waiting, and nodded towards the jewel. It suddenly flared brightly, the light fading into emerald numbers glowing inside the stone: “$-1-5-0-0-*” Jane ran a finger over the stone, and it dimmed back down into dark smooth jade.

Theo grunted. “Neat trick. LCD under tinted glass, wired with Bluetooth to your cel?” She shrugged noncommittally and got on his bike, and he muttered over his shoulder. “All that fancy shit. Just call the fuckin’ bank, get it over with.” Revving the throttle, he waited as she pressed her body against him.

“Ah, Theo, you’re a Luddite at heart.” At his angry glare over his shoulder, she laughed. “Relax, big boy, it just means you like to keep things simple. It adds to your charm, manly man.” She playfully tapped her helmet against his. They rode back towards St. Antoine Street, leaving the empty truck and the ruined driver on the side of the road behind them.

Dec 092013
 

Jason looked up as Jane sat down at his counter. “You take debit cards?” she asked as he poured her a cup of coffee.

“Five dollar minimum,” he said sourly, sniffing. “Pardon me for saying so, Miss-I’m-too-cool-for-a-name, but you smell like a whorehouse.”

Jane smiled good naturedly. “More like one particular whore than the whole house, but no offense taken – these things take time.” She grinned as his scowl deepened. “While we’re on the subject of houses of ill repute, though – I found Tony and Kitten…amusing, but not really roommate material. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra room available?”

Jason nodded suspiciously.” Yeah,” he grudgingly allowed, “but it’s a hundred a week, and I’m not putting that on your tab…”

“No need, my friend.” She rummaged in a pocket of her leather vest and tossed him a strip of plastic. “Run that like a credit card for two weeks rent. It’ll do for starters.” She leaned over the counter, looking left and right. “My rucksack still back there?”

Jason absently opened a cabinet under the register and handed her the leather bag, motioning towards stairs leading upstairs next to the counter. “Take room three. Alex is in two, and it shares a door with one, where his boy stays. There’s an outside entrance, too, door code is 4692.” When she didn’t move, he looked at her. “Something else?”

She was looking at the tied laces on the flap of the rucksack, and then up at Jason, her expression grave. “You didn’t open this.” It wasn’t a question, and as he returned her gaze steadily, she sighed. “Oh, Jason. You’re an honest man, aren’t you? What the hell are you doing in a shithole like this?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and headed upstairs.

“Whatever I can,” he answered softly, and pulled a cel phone out of his pocket. Pressing a button, he began to talk in low tones, his eyes never leaving the staircase.

The next morning Jason had her pancakes and eggs ready as she came down the stairs, and she saluted his timing with a quick snap of her hand and a brilliant smile. Alex sat at the counter with a small boy of about 4, the two of them sounding out words in a Seuss book. “Sam-I-Am!” the boy said happily, pointing at a sad moustachioed figure in the book. Then he looked up and noticed Jane sipping coffee in the booth. “Who dat, daddy? She pretty!”

Alex hushed is son with a whispered “Don’t bother her, Joey, let her eat alone.”

“Hello, Joey.” Suddenly she was standing next to them her hand offered to the boy. “My name’s Jane. You’re doing a great job on that book – it was one of my favorites.” She looked at the book critically for a moment, then at the boy. “Can I tell you a secret?” The boy nodded warily, and she whispered a few sentences in his ear. His eyes grew wide for a moment, then he looked at his father sitting next to him and started giggling. Smiling, Jane tousled his hair and went back to her breakfast, reading a battered paperback with some sword-wielding barbarian on the cover.

Jason came over and topped off the boy’s orange juice. “What’d she tell you?” he asked casually, glancing over Joey’s head to Jane in the booth.

“It’s a SEEKET!” the boy pronounced happily, then more quietly, “That means I have to whisper it.” Jason nodded gravely, leaning over. Joey whispered intently, and giggled as Jason began chuckling.

“Well, then, I guess it’s lucky for him you’re done! There’s your bus!” Joey squealed with excitement, hugging his puzzled father and giving Jason a high-five before jumping off the stool and rushing out the door.

Alex watched him go, and then turned to Jason, curiosity getting the better of him. “What?” he demanded.

Jason indicated the moustachioed fish in the book. “She told him that her father kind of looked like that fish,” he grinned. “And that if Joey didn’t eat all his food, it might happen to you, too.” Chuckling, Jason cleared away the plate, and in spite of himself, Alex grinned back. Taking his coffee, he turned around and walked over to her booth. She looked up at him and waved him into the seat.

“I ran into your wife earlier this morning,” she said bluntly.

Alex’s expression didn’t change. “Yes, I heard. Thank you for not involving her in your little…demonstration.” He sipped his coffee and Jane thought she saw just a glimpse of the deep pain he felt at the mention of his wife. “I didn’t watch the tapes, but Tony and Kitten were quite impressed.”

“What’s the deal with them, anyway?” Jane asked. “With a sweet set up like they’ve got there, why can’t they make ends meet? Those camgirls and boys I saw in there – man, talk about walking poster children for the Big Burnout.”

At this Alex chuckled, a soft, bitter sound. “Yeah, that’s a good way to describe just about everyone over there. The problem isn’t the infrastructure – it’s that it’s a castle under siege.” He looked up at Jane, then, and she was startled by his eyes, which had looked brown, but now revealed a vivid green ring around his dark irises. “The Incubikers won’t let any new talent in, and if old talent goes out, they don’t come back. That talent you saw? They haven’t been out of that building in three months. Tony and Kitten are able to get supplies in and out, they have that much pull with the teamsters, but people…” He trailed off. “When the Doukas’ catch someone trying to get out, well, if they’re lucky, they disappear. Some they keep… for their own amusement.”

Jane sipped her coffee and speculated out loud. “And in town known as “the Murder City”, I guess it doesn’t take much of a donation to keep the police out of the whole thing.”

Alex laughed again. “Police? You kidding? The Doukas not only have them paid off, they have them procuring. Notice that Juvenile Detention facility down the street? Both Tony and the Doukas brothers used to take advantage of that, scooping up people close to the edge. Doesn’t take much paperwork to get a pretty not-quite- 18 year old released on a ‘work apprenticeship’. By the time his or her birthday comes around they’re strung up on smack or in debt or both, and they just start working the cameras.” He waved out the window in the vague direction of the Incubiker enclave. “Or the clients.”

“So what changed? What put Tony and Kitten are on the defensive?” Jane snorted. “For that matter, why doesn’t Doukas just roll right over him?” Her tone dropped low. “And why do you get to come and go freely?”

Alex looked at her steadily. “I really don’t know the answer to the first two questions. At some point the détente failed, that’s all I know. The Doukas brothers just decided one day to make a move on one of Tony’s stars.” His eyes were expressionless. “That’s part of the answer to your last question, though.”

His voice quickened, as if he wanted to get the telling over with quickly. “Isabella. That’s her name. The one you saw in the alley, the star that the Doukas brothers took from Tony.’ He took a breath, eyes glued to the table in front of him. “Joey’s mother. My wife.”

Jane said nothing, simply waited, and after a long moment Alex got his emotions under control and continued. “She was an indie model, came to work for a month-long exclusive contract with Tony. She’d just finished a great trip to New York, worked with some really high-end photographers, and we thought – that is, I thought – ” his voice cracked, and Jane simply sipped her coffee and waited, silent, for him to regain composure.

“I wanted to stay in the city, keep working the contacts. But she told me she had gotten something really good during her time in New York, something that she wouldn’t show me…I never really understood what it was, or what she thought it would do, but…fuck, I don’t even really care anymore. She just seemed to think it would be our ticket to the dream – for her to stop traveling all the time, for me to stop having to scrambling for freelance gigs, for us to do what we wanted.”

“What is it that you wanted, Alex?” Jane’s voice was soft.

He looked at her bleakly. “Fuck if I know. Never had enough breathing room to actually figure that out.”

Jane nodded, solemnly. “Fair enough. So what happened?”

He sighed. “Again, I don’t really know. I couldn’t meet her when she landed at the airport because of Joey’s school stuff, and from what I heard, Incubikers were waiting there to take her. That was three months ago. Since then, they’ve intercepted every talent Tony and Kitten have tried to hire – and anyone who gets out of Kitten’s building gets disappeared, or worse.” He stirred his coffee and gave a soft chuckle. “The last two times it was a bund from Russia. Tony thought they might be beyond the Doukas brothers’ reach.” Alex gave a bitter laugh.” Didn’t matter where they came from, though,” he pointed out the window again, “that last mile is where they grab them. Didn’t even have to use force; just convinced the girls that working for them would be much more convenient than working for Tony and Kitten.” He chuckled again, sounding tired

Jane tapped a sugar packet thoughtfully. “Why the laugh?”

Alex grimaced. “It’s not really funny. Another bunch of girls are supposed to come in today. Tony is nothing if not persistent. I’m just thinking it might not be so easy for the Incubikers to convince this group to switch sides.”

“Really? Why’s that?” Jane’s tone sounded speculative.

“Because the only guy they have who speaks Russian is in the clinic with his jaw wired shut,” Alex grinned with a bitter triumph and tapped a finger on the table in front of Jane. “Thanks to you.”

Jane stood up from the booth and was gathered her things. Alex looked up, surprised at the sudden exit. “Hey, where are you going?”

Jane gave him a big smile. “That, Alex, was some valuable information. In fact…” she handed him a small card. “Here. PIN is 1469. Take out a hundred, get Joey something nice. And hang onto that card. Anything else you hear about that you think I might be interested in, pass it on, and I’ll authorize more.” She snugged her fingerless leather gloves over her hands, and carefully dogeared her place in her book before tossing it in the rucksack. “Place like this, the right piece of information can be worth a lot to a woman like me.”

Alex looked at the card with a bewildered expression. “I don’t understand. What are you doing?”

She smiled and slung her rucksack over her shoulder. “Going to see Michael Doukas about a job. I hear he might be in need of a Russian translator.”

Alex still looked confused. “And…you speak Russian?”

Jane gave him a wink as she went out the door. “Vot tak!”

Nov 252013
 
2013-11-11 10.18.42
Only slightly posed.

Only slightly posed.

So, a while back, I told some friends of mine “I’m a simple man of peace!”

They laughed.

It bothered me. More than it probably should have, and so I tried it out on other people. Exactly one person – my oldest friend, in fact – didn’t snicker, laugh, chortle, or guffaw when I said I was a simple man of peace. They pointed at the San Francisco GRUE, at Dark Odyssey Surrender, at the upcoming Washington DC GRUE (which conveniently comes right after Thanksgiving). They pointed at my self-employment, my public work, my private relationships, my kinks and hobbies and goals and gadgets.

And you know what? They were right. I was – I am – about as far from a “simple man of peace” as I can be.

And that bothers me.

So I decided to take arms against a sea of brainweasels and do something about it. The lovely Miss Ali had asked me if there was some special way we could spend a weekend together, and as I outlined what I had in mind, she enthusiastically agreed. Thus, SMOPcon was born.

The idea was to find an environment both reclusive and also inspiring. To pare things down to a minimum, to cut down on the noise just to see what kind of signal might actually be coming through.

For my part, the rules I made for myself (the aspiring SMOP) were relatively simple:

  • No technology more complex than paper and pen. That meant no clocks, watches, smartphones, computers, whatever. I was OFF THE GRID.
  • I would sit zazen three times a day, for 1/2 hour per session.
  • I would do yoga twice a day.
  • I would eat simple and healthy (mostly) meals.
  • I would go to bed when tired, get up when rested, fuck when horny.

Miss Ali, for her part, was taking on the role of “Service Muse.” This meant that she was accepting the responsibility of:

  • Locating an appropriate space for the SMOPcon and negotiating its use (AirBNB for the win, btw!)
  • Planning & preparing the menu, usually
    • Fruit, coffee, and toast for breakfast
    • Vegetables and fish or sausage for lunch
    • Salad and (possibly) meat for dinner
    • Fruit, nuts, other snacks as needed
  • Minding the technology:
    • Monitoring my phone for emergency messages
    • Changing the music as I requested
    • Keeping track of time when I sat zazen
  • Leading yoga workouts twice a day
  • Courtesan/bedwarmer/rope bottom services as requested
  • Providing stimulating conversation, a sounding board, or a silent companion as needed.

I could write. I could read my books. I could smoke cigars, drink whiskey, listen to music (though I couldn’t actively use the iPod, see rule 1). I could bounce ideas or thoughts off of Miss Ali, or simply enjoy watching her do the work she’d brought along for herself.

This lasted from Sunday afternoon thru Wednesday noon.

So, Did It Work?

That’s a good question. Am I now a SMOP? Well, no. As the zen saying goes, first mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers, then mountains are not mountains and rivers are not rivers, and then mountains are once again mountains and rivers are once again rivers.

To put it more clearly, did something happen? Yes. Was it enlightenment? Come on, are you serious? Here’s the way it broke down:

  • I had thought that going off the grid would drive me crazy. It didn’t, not at all. I surrendered my phone when we got in the car to go to the location, and never had the slightest temptation to check it, check in, or anything else. That surprised me just as much as anyone.
  • I also thought that sitting for 1/2 hour 3x/day would be hard. It wasn’t – even though that’s six times longer than I sit any other day. In fact, I grew to really look forward to that part of each day.
  • The location was SPECTACULAR:

pirateShackSmall

 

  • …which probably had a lot to do with how easy it was to monotask.
  • I found that my days went pretty much as I’d planned them, with the big chunks of time spent on each making them feel more…nourishing, I suppose. Like eating real food instead of fast food might taste.
  • I found that for the most part I didn’t want to listen to music, but I really treasured the time I spent talking with Miss Ali. We discussed her own work (some career planning) and I would talk to her about where my thoughts were leading. Like a true muse, her comments often led me in directions that led to breakthroughs.

And yeah, while I didn’t achieve enlightenment, I did have an epiphany or two (life-changing, even) and also came out of it with a pretty nice outline for a cigar-themed erotic romance. Also some unforgettable sights, sounds, and memories.

I can’t speak for Ali, except for two things she shared with me: one, she did get a great deal of her own work done, and two, she would have liked to have a third service provider there to “…do the meals. And the yoga!” So maybe her calling was more towards the muse; I only know that she gave me exactly what I asked for and several other things that I needed but wasn’t aware enough to ask.

The hardest part of the weekend was the aftercare – or rather, the lack of it. I mentioned that leaving the grid behind was no problem; coming back to the grid has continued to be difficult. I find myself much less tolerant of noise, of bustle, of busy-ness. I came out of the SMOPcon right into managing and hosting a variety show/street fair night at Dark Odyssey Surrender, and the number of times I wanted to just scream “FUCK RIGHT OFF!” and go find some water to sit by was more than I was comfortable with.

It’s been a couple of weeks now, and that urge only hits once in a while. Meanwhile, I find myself monotasking more – every chance I get, in fact – and guarding jealously my morning rituals of yoga, meditation, and caffeinated journaling.

For me, it was a SMOPcon, but you can easily remove the gender and call it STOPcon – whether that’s Simple Top of Peace or even a non-power-dynamic Simple Time of Peace. But oh, do I ever recommend it. That silence, when all the rest goes away?

Glorious.

Aug 112013
 

So I just finished “Banging Rebecca” (don’t I wish!) and thought I’d actually post a review to Amazon. Much to my surprise – and VERY quickly after I submitted it – my review was rejected. I’m still not sure exactly why…but fuck ‘em if they can’t handle the word “cunt” when I’m writing a review. Here you have it, in it’s original and uncensored form.

I’ll get the one thing I didn’t like about this novella out of the way first: safer sex. There isn’t any mention of it in the whole shebang (see what I did there?) and as a sex-educator that’s a little disconcerting.

But I got over it, because DAYUM, this has some very hot stuff. Outside sex. Bondage. Impact play. Dominance/submission, all set within the kind of conflicted tangle of emotions and desires that really accompanies that kind of play. There is a real story here, with conflict, with foreshadowing, with character development and everything else English Comp teachers teach us about. But it’s also dripping with (and built by) amazingly rendered sexual encounters, one after another, building up to the surprising and satisfying finish (see, I did it again!).

It’s a short read, yes. But it’s also full of scene after scene of cock-throbbing cunt-drenching sex, so if you’re in for some wank material, this is the best deal you’ll find. If you’re just looking for a good story, though, it’s also just a good buy.

Oh, and Alison? I’m a pretty experienced BDSM educator and enthusiast. So thank you for a new idea that I can’t wait to try out…

Jul 202013
 

Apologies for the tardiness of this next installment; I let other priorities distract me from my goal of releasing a chapter a week. I will endeavor to be more prompt, promise, especially as things are about to REALLY heat up…

Crossing the street, they approached the dark building that housed “T.S. Enterprises” according to the burnished steel letters on the side of the building. As they approached the door the woman saw the camera she’d sent the message through was accompanied by more cameras at regular intervals all around the building. The doorway itself was a seamless black slab resembling black slate, no knobs or hinges visible in the twelve-foot tall slabs, each half that in width, that formed the front entrance. As her escort paused in front of them, she looked expectantly up at him.

Though he tried to maintain his disdainful composure, he finally gave in to her inquisitive gaze and said “What!?!” with the desperate tone of someone who feels harassed but is not sure why.

“Are you kidding?” she said, gesturing with a hand at the doors. “C’mon, with doors like this, I’m just waiting for you to toss a bone in the air so it becomes a space station or something.” Her expectant grin faltered as he just stared at her with a blank, faintly hostile stare. “Oh, c’mon, you’ve never seen 2001: A Space Odyssey?” She shook her head, muttering to herself “Honestly. What are they teaching the children these days…” She reached out and tapped the wall with a knuckle, the tiny brass rivets on her fingerless gloves making a rat-at-tat sound. “So, what do we ‘Speak, friend, and enter?’” Glancing up at the guard’s blank face, she shook her head. “Never mind. What are we waiting for.”

The guard held a finger to his ear, listening to an unseen voice. Then he looked at her with a smug smile. “Seems you’ve got a few items we don’t exactly feel comfortable with around the boss. So I’m going to have to do a…” he licked his lips suggestively “thorough search.” He flexed his hands in anticipation and stepped towards her.

She held up a hand. “I’ve got a better idea, Schmuckballs. Let me save everybody some time.” Under his astonished gaze she rapidly unbuckled, unzipped, and unbuttoned her entire ensemble, a pile of brass, denim, and brown leather slowly pooling at her feet. In less than a minute she was completely naked, nipples pink and hard in the cool morning air, a thick tuft of blond hair at her pubis trimmed into a neat triangle. Her breasts were full and round, looking mature without being out of proportion for her relatively tiny body, and her skin had a soft cream color that was almost luminous. She stood with her weight evenly distributed on both feet, looking up at the flabbergasted guard with a calm, expectant expression. Then she very deliberately lifted her middle fingers in a double fuck-you, a thin silver band on one and a large amber stone gracing the ring on the other. “There. That satisfy you?” She waited, but the guard seemed mesmerized by the tiny nubs tipping her breasts. She sighed. “Oh. Right. I’m supposed to satisfy someone with more brain cells, obviously.”

Looking up, she noticed another video camera, and smiled at it. Lifting her hands behind her head, she cocked her hip jauntily and stepped forward, pivoting like a beauty contestant displaying the goods. As she turned, she revealed an ass of cream-colored skin broken by long lateral bruises like thin shadows across each cheek. As he saw them, the guard’s breath left him in a long hiss, and she shot him an inquisitive look as she finished turning. “What? A girl can’t enjoy a good caning once in a while? Ask your Master’s voice if we can go in now, Schmuckballs, it’s fucking cold out here.”

At this he seemed to recover himself, growling at her. “Stop calling me that, you cu-” his voice broke off and his eyes unfocused in widened surprise as he listened to unseen commands. “Sir? Yes, sir. Of course not, sir. Right away, sir.” Swallowing, he stepped back from the door as it opened and without looking at her motioned for the nude woman to walk in. “Please come in, Ms…” again he left it a question, and again she ignored it as she sauntered past, patting his arm as she went past.

“Be a dear and fold up my kit, won’t you, Schmuckballs?” A vein in his forehead bulged, but he simply said “Yes, ma’am,” and bent to gather the clothing as she disappeared inside.

The lobby of T.S. Enterprises continued the black slate and steel theme of the outer doors, this time with a stone floor leading to a glass and chrome latticework stairway leading up to a ring of offices, the atrium continuing up six stories to a skylight filtering the gray-bright morning sky. The woman walked up to the base of the stairs, ignoring the security guard at the tiny desk and looking up them to the man descending. “Tony Nesmith, I presume?” she said, her voice not quite a purr as her weight shifted, one hip cocking a little further in front.

“None other, shela, and I’m beginning to like making your acquaintance more and more.” Tony unabashedly looked her up and down, eyes evaluating with a professional detachment that nonetheless showed a happy grin on his face as he took in her body. At a slight gesture of his hand she turned, with the calm smile of one who is simply replaying a gift already given. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her ass striped with bruises from a past caning, and his nostrils flared slightly. “Mmmm…I do like a woman who knows what she’s got and isn’t afraid to flaunt it.”

“Like me, honey?” came a soprano, slightly nasal voice from higher up the stairs, and both of them looked up to see Kitten descending to meet her husband. Her outfit did certainly flaunt something, though how flattering it was seemed a bit more debatable. The naked woman seemed to have some trouble keeping a grin off of her face as she watched the former star descend, a skin-tight spandex dress painted on her rubenesque curves, a keyhole neckline showing off cleavage like a miniature ass crack in her chest. The implants in her breast seemed to move slightly out of sync with her body, and there was a definite dimple in the curve of her hip where a too-small thong bit into her waistline.

Her perfect teeth smiled predatorily at the young naked woman at the base of the stairs, scarlet lipstick opulently lacquered under the smoothest unwrinkled cheeks money could buy. Impossibly long lashes surrounded eyes that would have been liquid in a more slender face, but which now seemed to squint out from the round fleshiness surrounding her visage. Her hair was big and sweeping in frosted blonde and sandy brunette strata that would have been almost still in style a decade before. Like her breasts, it seemed to move somehow independently of her body motion or, for that matter, gravity, and as she finished her descent and took her husbands arm, he seemed to deflate a little, the sag of a man who has been too long in battle and now simply has resigned himself to his fate.

“Yes, dear.” He smiled at her, and there was the echo of real affection in his gaze. “Of course like you. Doesn’t she look like a yummy little treat, though?” His heavy Australian accent made the word sound like “trite.” “I daresay you’d like to sink your teeth into that cute little arse yourself, darlin’.” Addressing the woman, still contrapostally posed at the base of the stairs. “What should we call you, Little Miss Stripey Butt.”

A coy smile crossed the woman’s face. “Cute as that name is, I’m actually called ‘Jane’.” Her smiled dimpled. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Kitten. I’ve been an admirer and fan for decades.” Kitten’s eyes widened angrily, but there was too much innocence in Jane’s words to take real offense.

Instead she laughed again, a false staccato sound. “Jane? As in, Plain Jane?” Her hand tightened territorially over her husband’s arm while he simply endured their verbal fencing.

“Actually, ma’am, more like ‘Calamity’, as those Incubikers found out.” Jane straightened, all posing gone from her figure. “Which is, I think, why you wanted to see me, right, Mr. Nesmith?”

The man chuckled and nodded, motioning her up the stairs. “Yes, yes indeed. I have a…few proposals for you, in fact. Especially with the way you handled that singletail. A switch,am I right?” As he walked between the two women up the stairs, his hand fell with casual grace across Jane’s ass, tapping the bruises there. “Looks like you had some fun at some point in the recent past…care to tell?”

“I could do that,” Jane replied, not reacting to his presumed intimacy at all in spite of Kitten’s glaring from across her husband’s shoulder. “Or I could just show you. I have heard about your legendary paddle on Kitten’s beautiful ass, and…well…” She gave an apparently unconscious wiggle to the curve under his hand, and just as Kitten’s mouth opened in protest, she continued. “Of course, my real fantasy is to be under Kitten’s hand. Or…well…ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying…” As they reached the top of the stairs she looked demurely at the woman, seeming oblivious to the jealous fury filling Kitten’s eyes.

The older woman simply stood there, glaring, until a suggestive throat-clearing from Tony reminded her that a reply was expected. “Oh. Yes, dear.” The word dripped like acid from her lips. “Please, do share with us your true fantasy.”

“Well…” Jane looked demurely at the floor, then up again at Kitten. “Ma’am, you’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. I used to get off just imagining tasting you, having my mouth close to your…” she trailed off, looking down in embarrassment, one arm coming up to massage the back of her neck.

Kitten couldn’t help but notice how it lifted her breast on that side, the nipple seeming to quest towards her husband and herself. In spite of her anger, she found herself licking her lips. Then she suddenly shook her head. “Wait a minute! What the fuck is going on here?” She took a step away from the naked woman and her husband, seeming to shake off some sort of glamour that had filled her eyes. “She comes in here and barely introduces herself and suddenly she wants to eat me out? While you paddle her ass? Who does that?” Her hands fluttered agitatedly in Jane’s direction. “Why the fuck are you naked in my house, bitch?”

Jane looked at her with wide eyes, an innocent, wounded sadness welling up in them. “Well, ma’am, I imagine I’m naked for the same reason they are.” She pointed behind the woman to the opposite railing one floor above them in the atrium, where a row of naked and semi-dressed women interspersed with a couple of men watched the three of them with more than a little interest.

Tony noticed them, too, and bellowed out “You aren’t getting paid to eavesdrop you sloppy cunts! Get back in your rooms and make those perverts give us more money!” The crowd scattered with alacrity, and in a chorus of slamming doors the balcony was empty again. He looked at Jane. “Those are our cam girls, little Jane. You think you belong with them?”

“Well…not exactly, Mr. Nesmith.” She smiled at him, just short of an invitation. “I suspect that my abilities are…specialized enough to attract a more erudite and discriminating audience.” Looking at Kitten, she smiled. “And I’m sorry if I presumed, ma’am, but I just figured that like them you’d rather I prove my…abilities.” She smiled again, eyes flicking up to the balcony, and this time there was no mistaking the invitation. “Didn’t any of them get an audition?”

Kitten looked at Jane for a moment more with suspicion, and then, gradually, another expression – not quite predatory, but hungry and cruel nonetheless – came over her face. “Ah. I see. Well…yes, I’m certain we could arrange something, after the appropriate tests are taken care of. Can’t be too careful these days, you know…”

“My most recent AIM test is in my wallet that Schmuckballs has in my pile of clothes,” Jane said promptly, and she seemed to wiggle like a puppy while at the same time standing in place. “I really do have some skills I just would love to show you…” Somehow she managed to plead without whining, and Tony’s eyes now glittered with possessive intent.

“An audition it is, then, shela. Been a while since we’ve had this kind of toy, hasn’t it, Kitten-o-my-heart?” He smiled wickedly at his wife, and she suddenly seemed to acquiesce to her husband’s desire.

“Oh, yes, dear, it will be just like old times…” Looking Jane up and down again, this time with a lascivious gaze, she smiled. “And if the audition goes well, I’m sure we might be able to make each other a nice bit of money, indeed, all the while having lots of fun…” She caught her breath as Jane moved next to her, snuggling her breasts against the larger woman like a smaller version of her namesake.
“I’m sure we will. Though I think, since I’ve already given Mr. Nesmith a ‘screen-test’, this should be more of a work-for-hire deal. I know I would rather we had the cameras rolling, to have something to remember you by…” She smiled and looked at Tony, head not moving from his wife’s bosom. “Shall we say, $1500 for the video, no stills?”

“Um…well…we’ve never really paid for an audition before…” Tony began, but his voice trailed off as he saw his wife’s hand dip towards the golden curls of Jane’s vulva and come away slick with moisture. Looking at the expression on his wife’s face, he realized she wouldn’t brook more negotiation. “$1500 it is. We’ll get you a check mailed just as soon as…”

Janes hand floated up languidly and curled open at his nose. A strip of flexible metal uncurled there, which a moment before had been a ring around her middle finger. There seemed to be writing on it, and looking closer he could just make out a website. “You have a computer in your bedroom, don’t you, Mr. Nesmith? This will be so much more convenient for you and me both, don’t you think?” He took the ring from her, and her hand seemed to float down and brush the bulge in his pinstripe trousers. “Then we can get on to…other things.”

May 192013
 

Editor’s note: If you’re new to the series, start here. If you’re wondering about the chapter title, well, it’s a work in progress, remember? In fact, as I was editing this, I found myself questioning whether it really merited being a “chapter” at all – that maybe it should have just been tacked on to the end of Chapter 2. Mainly because while I love that there is exposition, witty dialogue, and pancakes, there’s not a lot of action here. Speaking of which, if you’re wondering “Hey, Gray, where’s the sex?” trust me…it’s coming. Got feedback? I’d love hear from you, either in the comments or directly.

“I knew you were trouble!” Jason glared at Jane as she came through the door. Crew Chief Jonesy just gave her a merry grin, though, as he accepte a tray with four large cups from the barista. “And you still can’t pay for anything, unless you robbed those poor fellas too…” Jonesy suddenly froze, looking distressed.

“You gotta pay for coffee now?” he said, sounding panicked.

“What?” Jason shifted focus for a moment to the wide-eyed medic. “No, no, Jonesy, you know you never have to pay for your coffee. Especially since you have to lug those poor guys to the clinic.” He glared at Jane as she sat in a booth, a small amused smile on her face. “Quit grinning like that! He told me what you said about getting three beds ready! How can you call that self-defense?”

She nodded thoughtfully, expression becoming more serious. “You’re right. That was a mistake.” Looking at Jonesy, she said “I’m sorry to cause you more work, friend. But I was wrong.” She held up a hand, thumb tucked. “Doc Jonesy’s gonna need four beds.” As Jason’s glare darkened, she gave him a nod. “Fire up the grill, Jason-my-friend, I’ve got a powerful hunger, and this girl’s work has just begun.”

Jason looked for a moment as if he would explode. Suddenly he sagged, leaning against the counter for a moment. “But…you can’t pay!” His objection was only half-hearted as he turned to the grill.

“Don’t worry about it!” Jane called to his back. “My moneyroll is on his way. Breakfast, and then some.” Jason looked at her over his shoulder, an eyebrow cocked in mute question. “Eggs, scrambled, sausage links, pancakes, and coffee.” She paused for a moment, thinking, then added “And throw some cheddar on those eggs, wouldja, darling?” She settled back in the booth, giving Jonesy a wave as he walked out the door. Her eyes closed and a serene smile came across her face at the sound of the griddle sizzling mingling with Jason’s muttered imprecations.

Shortly the man brought the plate of food to her table and sullenly dropped the plate with a rude clatter. “That’s another $7 added to your tab,” he announced darkly.

“Seven?” she said, surprised. “That seems kind of steep for, well-” she waved her hand around, indicating the shop’s decor, “– a place like this.”

“You get a $2 pain-in-the-ass tax,” he snapped. “I told you that you should just go. Now you’ve just gone and stirred things up that didn’t need stirring. Four men – Incubikers, no less – in the clinic. Not that they were really good men to start with, but still.” Jason looked up intently at her. “There’s been a truce, almost, lately. Uneasy, sucky for everyone, but mostly peaceful. Violence is not the answer!”

“Kinda depends on the question, don’t you think?” she said quietly, then took a forkful of eggs. She motioned for Jason to join her across the booth. He grudgingly sat downas she swallowed, humming appreciatively. “Good eggs.” Gesturing with her fork, she continued. “Question for you: who was that redhead they were escorting? She was…” she looked away a moment, seeming to go through several possible adjectives before finally settling on one. “Striking. Moreso than I’d expect from that crowd, that kind of porn.”

Jason chuckled bitterly. “Oh, she’s not part of the porn. I wish she were, it would be easier on…” He stopped and sighed, taking a different approach. “She’s Michael’s own little pet – he thought she was ‘striking’ too, and so he just had to have her. Any trace of mirth left his face. “So he took her.”

“Took?” Jane asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

“Took her from Alecs.” Jason nodded upstairs, indicating his lodger. “From him and from her little boy.” He looked down at the table again. “Continues to take her. Night after night.”

Jane looked puzzled. “Why doesn’t anyone – ” she began, but Jason cut her off.

“The answer to any question beginning with ‘Why don’t they – ‘ is usually…”

“Money,” Jane finished the quote. “Yeah. Figures. They pay off the police, eh? Can’t Alec go higher in the food chain?” Before he could answer, she held up a hand. “Never mind. Stupid question. He didn’t go quite high enough, did he? They found a way to discourage him from trying again.”

The barista set his lips, looking away before replying. “If you count his fingernails, you won’t get near ten.”

The woman’s face went blank. “Ah. I see.” She ate the rest of her meal in silence, and after a moment Jason got up and returned to polishing and re-polishing the glassware behind the counter.

Just as Jane was mopping up the last of her syrup with the final shred of pancake, the door opened and a well-muscled man in a dark designer sports coat walked in. Ignoring Jason, he walked over and tried to loom over the woman by standing too close to the booth. His attempted intimidation was a diluted by her complete disregard for his presence, and his face slowly grew red as she continued to idly draw little designs in the syrup.

“Hey, bitch. Mr. Nesmith wants to talk to you.” His voice had a nasal whine to it, making him seem more petulant than threatening.

With a glacierlike calm she turned her head to look up at him. “Really? And why do you think that is, shit-for-brains?” His mouth opened, but she continued before he could speak. “Do you think it might have something to do with the four assholes I sent to the clinic half an hour ago? And do you think,” her voice suddenly took on a strident tone, like a slap in his face “- that if he decided to just send one asshole to get me, he expects you to treat me like shit?” Eyes narrowing, her voice suddenly lowered, becoming a low, predatory purr. “Or maybe…tell me, schmuckballs, what did you do to piss Tony off? Did you say no when Kitten wanted you to take your turn? Because if he sent you to me alone…he must not be expecting to get too much back.”

The man’s face had gone white as the woman talked, and when she finished, his stance was a little more unsure, and finally he shifted away from the booth. “Mr Nesmith…requests your company,” he amended, voice surprisingly gentlemanly. “If you would be so kind as to let me escort you, Miss….?”

“Thank you, schmuckballs. That’s much better.” She didn’t move from the booth for a moment, taking a final, leisurely sip of her coffee. Then with a lithe movement she was out, the motion so sudden that the man jumped a bit as she suddenly was inches away from his broad chest. Looking up at him, she winked. “You can call me ma’am, for now. Pay the man, and let’s go. Mustn’t keep little Tony waiting.” She handed her rucksack over the counter to Jason. “Keep an eye on this for me, willya?” He nodded, a grimly amused smile on his face, her tab in his hand. “Oh, and don’t forget the asshole tax, Jason! Schmuckballs certainly qualifies.”

Jason presented the bill neutrally to the rough man who glanced at it with a look as if he were swallowing glass. With a muttered “Fucker!” he threw a ten at the counter, and stiffly opened the door for her as they went out into the morning light.