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KUMIR, Chapter 26: Exeunt Ridens

15 Feb

courtesy My Lush Life via Flickr CC

Jane walked out of the compound into the flashing red lights of the ambulances and police car. Law enforcement had finally shown up and was dealing with the last of the wounded and unconscious Incubikers left by Patrick and Jason’s assault. She paused to take in the sight of wrecked bikes, unconscious and wounded bikers, and turned to Jason. In his military gear he blended in perfectly with the police and EMS personnel. He looked nothing like the calm barista she’d first met in a flannel shirt and apron. His face held the grim satisfaction of a veteran and he wore his military webbing and gear as if born to them.

“You guys did good,” she said, softly. “But it looks like we won the battle but lost the war. Level not achieved…”

Jason shrugged. “The Gods work in mysterious ways,” he said. “At least these guys are gone. And Tony and Kitten.” He looked across the street at the empty steel facade of Kitten’s Toy Shoppe. “As long as neither of them have the kumir, that’s at least some measure of security.” He paused, cleared his throat, and looked sideways at her. “Look – about what I said before. You need to keep your secrets, that’s fine. I think – I think it’s possible to be friends even if you don’t understand each other.” Jane just looked at him. “And besides…you’re good in a fight. We could use your help, maybe…” Jane’s stare finally unnerved him enough that he simply trailed off.

She held it for a second longer, then relaxed into a laughing smile. “Maybe what, Jason? Forge an alliance of sexual rebels, fighting against the evil empire of the repressed and nonconsensual?” She punched him in the shoulder, not hard but enough to shift him. “I don’t know about you, qadishi, but my people aren’t anywhere near that organized. Hell, that’s why they had to send me out here, and I didn’t even accomplish the goddamn mission.” She looked down the alley, and saw that her motorcycle still leaned, unobtrusively, against the wall of the café. “Eh. I fucking hate long goodbyes, Jason. I’m glad Patrick’s gone already.” She gave Patrick a hug suddenly, pressing her full body against him. “As for you, this is all your gonna get from me, so better enjoy it.”

Jason squeezed her back, hard, and for just that interval they were both back in the healing room, sharing the eternal now of the white orgasmic light

Then it was over. She felt a tear rolling down his cheek and into her hair. She ignored it and gave him a pat on his body armor as she pulled back.

courtesy My Lush Life via Flickr CCTurning, she caught a glimpse down the street of Theo’s boots laying dirty and scuffed on pristine white sheets, bound tight to the gurney as Jonesy shut the door to the ambulance. The speed-freak driver saw her and waved, happily. Jane started towards him, calling over her shoulder to Jason. “I’ll be over to the Café in a bit to get my things. I need to say goodbye to Jonesy.” Jason nodded, wiping his eyes unselfconsciously, but she was already halfway down the street. He watched her a moment longer, and turned towards the warm glow spilling from the shattered windows of the café.

Walking over to the ambulance, Jane smiled wearily at Jonesy. “I wouldn’t go too far,” she said, waving behind her towards the other injured Incubikers. “I suspect you’re going to be coming back here pretty soon.”

The ambulance driver ran a hand through the greasy locks on his head, pushing them out of his eyes for just a moment and Jane saw they were a brilliant blue. “S’ok,” he said merrily. “I like takin’ care of people.” He nodded towards the back of the ambulance. “That guy, he’s gonna be ok. Not gonna look so pretty, but his face still works. Mostly.” He shrugged. “Maybe Doc Jonesy’ll make it work better. Maybe.”

Jane looked sadly at the closed doors. “Well. That’ll be somethin’, then.”

Jonesy nodded. “Yeah. It’s better than poor Padre Innocente, that’s for sure. Nuthin‘ to do for him. He wasn’t even mostly dead.”

Jane couldn’t help but smile. “Nuthin’ to do but go through his pockets for spare change, then?”

He nodded happily and walked towards the front of the ambulance. Hand on the door handle, he looked at Jane, a crafty look trying to conquer the blissed-out expression he normally wore. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked her in a dramatic stage whisper.

Jane smiled and played along. “Sure!” she whispered back. “I promise, I won’t tell no one.”

Jonesy looked exaggeratedly to each side, checking for eavesdroppers, then leaned in. “The Padre?” He waited until Jane nodded, and then continued even more gravely. “He didn’t have no spare change.” His eyes were heavy with the solemnity of this revelation.

Jane nodded back, her expression grave. “I believe you, Jonesy.” She waited, but he didn’t seem to have anything else to add, so she squeezed his shoulder and turned away. “Take care,” she called over her shoulder, heading towards the café.

“Nope, no spare change at all. Just that pretty necklace.” Jonesy slammed the door of the ambulance, and Jane froze, just barely hearing his next words. “Sure does look pretty here on my mirror, though.”

Jane’s mouth opened, but whatever she said was drowned as the siren whooped to life and the ambulance drove off down St. Antoine’s, leaving her laughing in the chaotic flashing red of the night.


KUMIR, Chapter 25: All Debts Paid

8 Feb


Jane whimpered, eyes wide, desperately trying to twist her neck and look at the man who held her. “Theo…” she rasped. “We were…good! You know we were. Don’t throw…us…away! Please!”

He laughed cruel and low into her ear. “You really think that was anything, slut? You were a distraction. I used you like I’d use a tissue to blow my nose.” He flexed his bicep and cut off her carotid again. The brothers laughed together as Jane felt the world graying out again. .

She coughed, and let out one last gasping plea. “I know…where…kumir…is-”

Her words cut off as Michael slapped her again. “Really, bitch?” he barked, but his voice sounded less confident in their anger. “Why would I believe anything you say? You’ve played us from the start.”

Jane moaned, a little dribble of spit dripping from her mouth to the carpet. “I just…wanna live.” She swallowed, and as Michael’s hand lifted, she winced. “I swear! I can get you Isabella’s necklace! It’s at Kitten’s…secret place…”

Michael’s hand paused mid-slap as he thought about it. A moment later he tapped Theo’s shoulder. He released Jane and she slumped to the floor, coughing through desperate breaths as she tried to recover. She could still hear shouts and crashes from below through the roaring of blood in her ears. Silently she wished Patrick and Jason luck in rescuing Alec. Her own diversionary tactics weren’t working quite as planned.

Michael’s boot hit her in the side, and she barely managed to roll with the impact and escape some broken ribs. “Talk, you poxy trollop, before I break your nose again.” he shouted. “What is Kitten’s secret place?”

Jane looked up at the two men, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Look, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Yeah, I thought I could play you and them off against each other. I seduced Kitten, I seduced Theo…” She looked over at him, and he spit at her, the gobbet landing on her cheek. Jane didn’t bother to wipe it off, just slumped lower to the floor. “He…you know your brother, he’s too strong, too loyal to you for me to really get to him. But Kitten wasn’t! She was going leave Tony, for me! We were going to take the kumir… going to-“

Michael kicked her again, but the blow was half-hearted as he calculated the possibility that she was actually being truthful. Finally he grimaced. “I don’t give a fuck what you sluts were going to do, I just want you to tell me where this goddamned kumir strast’i is!” He drew his foot back again.

“Headboard!” Jane blurted out before he could kick her again. “It’s hidden in her headboard. Left knob, pull it three times, then push down” she gasped. “It pops open on the other side.” She bowed her head to her hands, shoulders shaking. “It’s there, I swear. Please! Just don’t…use that drug on me. Not like that…again.” She looked up at Michael, eyes red and streaming tears. “I couldn’t take-” Her voice stopped as she saw his pitiless expression. She shifted her gaze. “Please, Theo – I can…you know it can be good between us…”

Michael backhanded her again, saying “Theo doesn’t need a cheating slut like you-”

“Michael.” Theo voice was quiet but it cut through his brother’s tirade and the older man paused. Theo gestured at Jane’s huddled body, her head in her hands as she sobbed. “She’s done. Let me go down and make sure the boys have taken care of that fucking moustachioed barista, and I’ll also check out the magic headboard.” He crouched down and looked at the crying woman like she was an insect he’d pinned to a board. “And Jane…” Her face came up, eyes puffy and wide with tears, cheek bruised from Michael’s slaps. She winced as Theo grabbed her jaw tight, lifting her face higher. He was quiet with menace. “You’re not going to lie, are you? Because you really do want to get on my good side. Just ask Ksenya. He,” He nodded towards his brother. “…doesn’t have one.” Michael laughed sharply, but Theo just held his gaze on Jane’s tearful eyes.

She nodded mutely, afraid to speak, her face the picture of abject surrender. Theo growled and brought his other hand around. Jane winced, expecting another slap, but instead Theo gently cupped the back of her head and drew her face up to his. There was nothing intimate about his kiss at first – it was simply an expression of his power over her. Jane closed her eyes, still half-expecting him to strike her, but as the kiss extended she relaxed against him. She seemed to find sanctuary in the way he held her head, inescapable. She opened her mouth further and moaned into his devouring kiss.

Michael grunted with disgust, turning away, and Theo broke off the kiss finally. He stood, grinning at his brother. “Told ya, bro, you catch more with honey. And when you’re done, it makes breaking ’em all the sweeter.”

He turned to leave, and Jane called out to him with a suprisingly strong voice. “Hurry and get the necklace, Theo!” He paused at the door, looking back, smiled with a slightly puzzled look as she spoke. Jane’s tears were wiped away, and she smiled encouragingly at him. “Don’t stop for anything, but be sure to watch the grease out there!”

Theo’s smile grew wider, as if he’d just heard the best news in the world. He nodded vigorously to her and gave a thumbs up to his brother as he turned to leave. Michael suddenly realized something was wrong, and called out “Theo!” His voice was lost in the sound of his brother’s boots going down the stairs. As they receded the room fell silent but for the occasional distant crash of whatever struggle was still going on in the floors below them. The three women still huddled by the kitchen, looking confused and worried.

courtesy Kris Van De Sande via Flickr CCMichael slowly walked towards Jane. She didn’t move from her place on the floor, just watched calmly as he approached. Michael looked at the door where his brother had exited, then back at her. “I’ll be a sonuvabitch,” he said. “You just played him, didn’t you?”

Jane looked up at him with wide eyes, face still streaked with dried tears. She slowly nodded and opened one of her clenched fists. A vial of black liquid rested in her palm, the drug that she’d lifted from Theo’s shirt during their struggle.

Michael raised his fist to drive it into her face. Just then the sound of his brother’s bike starting up came through the broken window. The throaty roar of the pipes filled the street, revving fast, and Michael ran past the women to the window, shouting his brother’s name. Jane watched Michael’s face as the sound of the bike clutch popping into gear came through the room. Jane saw the man show the first genuine emotion she’d ever seen as he looked out the window.

Michael’s expression eyes were wide with shock and horror and Jane imagined what he was seeing. His brother accelerating down the street towards Tony’s building. Hurrying, as Jane had told him. Looking down to watch the grease on the street. As Jane had told him. She heard the sound of acceleration followed by a sudden scream and the torturous sound of metal crunching and tearing.

The sound of the crash echoed in the following silence. Michael’s mouth was open in a silent echo the of the scream as he stared out the window. He closed it, finally, whispering “Theo…”

Michael turned slowly from the window to look at Jane. She didn’t move until he moved , stalking towards her with slow and deliberate steps. She stood quickly, wincing as she favored her ribs. She’d not been faking that much, Michael’s kicks hurt. She took a balanced stance and prepared to defend herself.

Michael’s attack beat her down easily, striking with cruel precision that cut through her defenses with ease. Jane was fast and experienced in combat, but so was Michael. With an even match of experience his strength and Jane’s fatigue became the deciding factors. As they threw strikes, blocked, and moved around each other, they both knew that the fight was only prolonged by his sadism and her stubbornness.

Finally a combination of an upward block combined with a strike to her ribs staggered Jane long enough that Michael made the winning move. His arm twined around hers, locking the joint and putting her neck in reach of his hand which wrapped around it. His thumb pressed into the nerve plexus under her jaw and she craned her neck back, trying to move away. Her cervical vertebrae ached as he lifted her smaller form, the weight of her body adding to the torque on her arm and neck. Her other arm waved helplessly, trying to guard her open body but too tired and beaten to do more than ineffectually flop around. Her boots brushed the floor in a vain attempt to find secure footing.

Michael bared his teeth in a feral grin as he watched her struggle and opened his other hand. He held the vial, still half-full, where he’d picked it up from the floor as he’d torn through Jane’s defense. “That’s right, bitch,” he said, cruel satisfaction in his voice. “No Beecee, no little brother. Just me, and I’m not going to fucking kiss you or let you suck my cock.” He flipped the lid off with his thumb. “But believe me, cunt, you will  swallow.” He tightened his grip on her hair and as she gasped with pain he drained the vial into her mouth. Discarding it, he clapped her jaw shut as she struggled. “Now you’ll pay, you little – oof!”

Jane had twisted her body, driving her knee up into his solar plexus. There was a sharp crack as his xiphoid process broke off his sternum. Michael retched and gasped just as Jane pursed her lips and spat the drug into his face, lips pursed like she was playing a horn. The dark liquid aerosolized and Michael released her, coughing and spasming as he fell to his knees. She stood there over him, watching him slowly recover his breath. He wiped his eyes, and looked up at her. The anger was gone from his face.

“Stay there, Michael.” He nodded happily at her, then winced as the motion aggravated the small fractured bone in his belly. Jane slowly walked across the room and picked up her black stone knife. As she walked back towards Michael every step seemed to transform her body from the beaten victim to the dancer’s grace she was accustomed to. As she reached Michael her she gave a wide stretch with her arms, rotating her shoulders back. “Fucking method acting…” she muttered. “And Patrick thought I couldn’t play the innocent! Michael! You believed I was beaten, didn’t you?”

Michael’s expression was unfocused, as if struggling with some inner conflict. “Michael!” Jane repeated, sharply, then crooned to him. “It will make you feel better if you answer my questions. You’ll really enjoy that.”

His face cleared and he smiled. “Oh! Yes, Jane, I was sure I’d kicked the shit out of you.”

“Score one for you,” came Jason’s voice from the door, and Jane looked up. She smiled wearily at him.

“Did you get Alec?”

Jason nodded. “Patrick’s got him on the way to Isabella and Joey. They’re fine – we’re sending them to the middle of nowhere. There’s a Bakushi that will put them in the other half of his duplex and watch over them – literally.” He grinned. “They’ll be fine, as long as they learn to like shoveling snow.”

Jane smiled back. “Good deal. And you?”

Jason shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I thought you needed help. I just wanted to catch the end of the show.” He nodded towards Michael who knelt dazed on the floor. “Looks like I got here just in time.”

Jane sighed as she looked wearily at the beaten man. “Yeah. There’s just one thing left to do.” She went to stand in front of Michael. Kneeling, his head was level with her breasts. Jane put the point of her knife under his chin, lifting his face to her. A thin trickle of blood trailed down from the grizzled whiskers in a crimson trail down his neck, but he didn’t seem to notice. From the kitchen Jane could hear the Russian women muttering nervously to each other as they tried to understand why their abuser was so cowed by the petite blonde.

“Michael,” Jane said. “It will make you feel really good – really really happy – to answer this question for me.” Michael was still breathing ragged with pain, but his eyes shone with devotion as he hung on Jane’s every word. She took a breath, looking intently at him.

“Where is the kumir strast’i?”

Michael’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. His body trembled, and Jane had to move the knife to keep the man from slitting his own throat. An agonized gurgling came from his throat as he struggled “I don’t know!” he cried out, weeping uncontrollably, and fell to his side, sobbing in a fetal position.

Jane looked at the broken man on the floor and thought of all the things she could do to him. All the things she wanted to do to him. She thought of everything she should do to him, everything he’d done, everything he deserved.

Then she shook her head and sheathed her blade. She looked up Ksenya, Valya, and Nastya, now standing closer, unsure of what they saw.

Nu vot, devushki. Sdelai s nim kak khotite,” she said to them. Michael’s stopped sobbing, then, looking up at her with a strange angry helplessness, as if a part of him deep within raged against his lack of control. Jane hoped that was the case.

“I’m…theirs?” he asked, incredulously. “You’re giving me…to them?”

“Yer damn right,” she said, no trace of pity in her voice. “And Michael…” she crouched down, looking close into his face. “You’re going to absolutely hate that. I want you to feel miserable every minute of it. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” Michael nodded happily at her, mindless with devotion.

Jane turned away and started towards the door where Jason waited. Behind her one of the Russian women muttered something and ran back to the kitchen. Coming even with Jason, Jane winced as she heard it.

He cocked his head. “What did she say?”

“She said Podozhdi minutochku! Kofemolku chut’ ne zabyla! Mne eto nado…” Jane repeated. As they went down the stairs, she shook her head slowly. “She asked her friends to wait to start with him because she knew where the coffee grinder was.” Jane kept her face straight ahead. “She said they were going to need it.”

Jason shuddered and followed her down, almost – but not quite – feeling sorry for the man.

KUMIR, Chapter 24: Diversionary Tactics

1 Feb

KUMIR chapter 24: Diversionary Tactics

Jane's Obsidian BladePatrick looked up at Jason as both men checked the fasteners on their body armor. “You know, I knew things would get rough, eventually. But this was not how I pictured it going down.”

Jason grunted noncommittally and slid a matte-black collapsible baton into one of his belt loops. He set the handle at an angle to give easy access and tapped it with satisfaction. “True ‘nuff. But we go with the flow of fate, my friend, and right now, it’s flowing towards Alec, not towards some magic mind-control necklace.”

“The kumir stras’ti is more than that.”

“Yes, I know.” Jason shrugged. ‘I’ve even seen it.”

Patrick paused in his equipment check. “A picture – wait, of Isabella? Wearing it?” Jason nodded blandly as he strapped a Sykes-Fairbain commando knife upside down on his chest harness. Patrick was stunned. “But…that means you’re worshipping her!”

“Yes,” Jason said matter-of-factly. He paused and gave Patrick a significant look. “We all worship in our own way.” Satisfied with his kit, he thumped his chest armor. “I know that what I do is what is best for her. Therefore it’s easy to do it.” He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s incredible, you know – the kumir stras’ti. Not just amber. There are other stones, clear like water from a glacier frozen in crystal. Smooth metal spheres woven with the bronze cord, twisting whorls that catch the eye and carry you…away. It has a milkstone, like a chip of comet fallen to earth suspended over the frozen amber…it glowed against her skin, shone with the essence of everything I’ve ever desired…” Jason’s voice had grown soft and distant. Patrick was gentle as he grasped the man’s arm to bring him back.

“You’ll always want her that way, won’t you, brother?”

Jason shook his head, running fingers over his moustache, smoothing it unconsciously. “I dunno. But I knew this guy Patrick a while back who took on a burden that would never be lifted.” He looked into his friends eyes. “He turned out alright.”

They smiled grimly with the familiarity of unhealable wounds. Then Patrick broke the gaze to look up the stairs. “Jane’s been up there a while.” They exchanged worried looks as they realized how unnaturally silent the street had been after Alec’s capture. “I wonder what kind of distraction she’s plan-“

There was a sudden crash came from the alley, the sound of glass breaking and falling to the street. Faint shouts came from the compound, fewer than before but sounding more panicked.

“That would be it,” Jason said. The two of them headed out the door to get their friend.

It felt good to be back in her leathers, Jane thought. Her brown leather chaps over worn gray denim and darker vest over a green chamois shirt gave her both the comfort of familiarity and the protection of armor. Laying rone along the power line, one leg dangling straight down and the other hooked behind for balance, she flexed her grip and looked down at the Incubiker compound, her her dark gloves protecting her from the hum of electricity. She frowned, eyes fierce and bright as she studied the side of the building. She was facing a temptation.

Thanks to a few swallows from a particular tonic recovered from her rucksack she felt a sharp and crisp feral energy. A long sheath at the small of her back held her only visible weapon. The time of tricks and devices was, for the most part, over, so Jane had tried to be subtle with her plan. She really had. A simple strategy: crawl along this power line to the roof of the compound and make her way inside, sowing mayhem and chaos on her way to finding the Doukas brothers – that is, the kumir strast’i. If she happened to meet up with the brothers, well, there were some debts that needed paying…but she was focused on the mission. On her simple plan.

OK, she admitted to herself. Maybe simple wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t really much of a plan at all when she thought about it.

On the other hand, it had more nuance and subtlety than most of her plans.

Now she was inching her way along an line that thrumming with electric current, only held at bay by her leathers. Her hand-over-hand journey high above the street had been absolutely silent, no bulky gear to get in her way or rattle, and the idea of climbing a power line was just crazy enough that no one seemed to be watching.

Most of the windows on the building were sealed tight with the security shutters that Alec hadn’t managed to short-circuit. Jane thought that she could see vague silhouettes moving in the light behind one, though, and the garbled sound of a conversation floated up through the night air. The words were unintelligible but Jane thought she could hear a definite Russian tone to the voice. There was an urgency to their tone that implied some dread and impending arrival. There was too much grime to see inside, but slender silhouettes cut the light as Jane watched.

Of course it was a trap. Jane was under no illusions as to that. The question was, did she want to spring it, or avoid it? Jane continued along the line for a few more feet, stopped, measured the angles with her eyes, and then inched backwards a foot. She lay prone on the wire breathing slowly with eyes closed for a moment. “Eris guide my chaotic way,” she whispered, adding “Mei absolutio” Then, with a smooth motion she rolled off the wire, holding the line with one hand while she drew her obsidian knife with the other and sliced through the metal and insulation in a single stroke.

The swing didn’t take her directly through the window, but she’d planned for that. She hit the wall of the compound feet-first, boots planted wide to absorb the impact. She flexed her knees and pushed away from the wall, letting the bounce carry her to the side. As she reached the outer swing of the arc away from the building she drew her feet together. The hard soles of her boots drove through the window pane with a crash and Jane gracefully arched her body through the frame, landing with a small crunch of shattered glass.

She straightened up and looked around. She had landed in the Doukas’ private kitchen. Expensive dark-metal pans hung from racks set into the ceiling, and a dark slab of a fridge took up almost half a wall, resembling a bank vault more than a home appliance. Jane smiled evilly at the two women who stood over a large granite counter bent over white lines of powder. They reacted slowly to her entrance, their expressions confused by the drugs as they tried to make sense of this woman-in-cowboy-clothes that had just broken through the window.

Jane recognized the women from the truck, and squinted as she tried to remember their names. Ksenya? Valya? Nastya? It annoyed her that she couldn’t remember. They both wore negligee that clung to their slight frames but barely covered their surgically enhanced breasts. Jane could see a bruise on one woman’s ass cheek, about the size of Theo’s hand. She snapped her fingers. “You were Theo’s partner during the duel! Ksenya, right?”

The brunette looked shocked, worriedly glancing at her companion, then back at Jane. “Da?” her voice quavered.

Jane’s expression turned cold along with her voice. “Michael?” she asked softly.

Both women looked at the doorway to the left, then guiltily back at Jane. Neither moved, frozen like rabbits caught in the shadow of a hawk.

Spazeba,” Jane whispered, and moved towards the doorway. Just as she reached it a large hand appeared around the frame, grabbing her by the throat and throwing her violently into the next room.

She was able to convert her fall into a smooth aikidoroll, coming back to her feet with her black knife held blade-reversed. She whirled to see Theo leaning casually against the doorframe.

His smile was amused, but his eyes were dead cold. “Cute blade,” he said, pushing off from the wall and sauntering towards her. “Get it out of a cereal box?”

Jane squinted at him, puzzled, and gave a little shrug. “I don’t know what that means,” she said, shifting her balance slightly on the balls of her feet, knees flexed.

“It means, in Australian terms, ‘thet’s nowt eh knaife’,” came Michael’s voice from behind her. Jane ducked instinctively feeling a whoosh in the air high above her head. She looked up to see Theo easily catch the handle of the K-Bar that Michael had lobbed high over her head. “Wound a little tight tonight, Ms. Jane?” he asked sardonically as Theo flipped the blade in his hand, testing the balance. Jane swore softly and breathed more deeply, spreading her awareness to take in the two brothers who had been waiting for her to take the bait.

Michael held an identical blade as his brother, the standard-issue Marine combat knife altered so the blade was a flat black that seemed to drink in the light. The two men circled Jane slowly, legs bent, feet silent. They moved like hyenas trying to decide the right moment to finish off a wounded gazelle on the savannah.

“My brother is easily distracted by hot asses, Ms. Jane,” Michael said, his voice laconic as if he were delivering a lecture. “But even he develops an immunity over time.” Jane shifted as the older brother spoke, trying to keep him in her peripheral vision as he circled. “Besides,” Michael continued, “considering what we had that sweet redheaded rugmuncher put you through, I don’t think you’ve got anything between your legs he’d want anyway.” He watched Jane’s expression for a reaction, but she simply watched him, calmly. Then he frowned and missed a step, squinting. “Didn’t I break your nose?”

Jane shifted again, making sure both brothers were within her field of view. She held her knife in a low guard position, ready to strike in any dirction. “Maybe you did, maybe you only thought you did.” Jane let mockery creep into her tone. “Kind of like you thought you got me, or that you got Isabella.” The three Russian women watched the predatory dance from the kitchen. They seemed fascinated by Jane’s defiance but unwilling to risk helping her. Jane didn’t blame them; the odds were not good. She flicked a glance back to Michael directly. “Or the Kumir Strast’i.”

She watched Michael’s face carefully as she said the words, but he gave no trace of recognition. His mouth did twitch, though, as a crashing sound came from the floor below them. Jane smiled as she heard more shouting and swearing by the Incubikers struggling for control of their compound. “Or like you think your boys can handle Alex.” She cocked her head slightly and smiled at the gray-haired man. “Frankly, Mr. Michael, I don’t think you have anywhere near as much as you think.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed and he straightened, lowering his knife. “OK. I’m officially tired of this bullshit,” he said. His eyes glanced over Jane’s left shoulder towards his brother. “Fuck this noise, Theo, quit dancing around. Take this bitch out.”

Jane turned to the left to meet Theo’s attack. As he hit her from the right she thought Stupid, stupid, such an obvious feint, they’re brothers, after all, should have known – and then she was caught. Theo gripped her knife hand, pressing in on the nerve juncture just over the thumb joint and forcing her fingers to loosen. The blade clattered to the floor. Her foot sent it spinning across the room as they struggled. Jane held the K-Bar away from her body with a joint lock on his arm, but that unfortunately tied up her own arms. She couldn’t risk any kicks for fear of losing her center of gravity. It came down to a losing battle of her leverage and skill against his strength and weight.

Jane shifted and spun inside of the circle of his arms, driving her hip up under his groin as she pulled his arm down to throw him to the floor.

It was a textbook throw, but unfortunately the textbook hadn’t covered petite blondes tossing large bikers. Jane’s small frame wasn’t enough to lift Theo’s center of gravity any higher than an inch or two. She ended up simply clutching at his shirt, hips shifting like a weird combat lap dance. Theo chuckled and wrapped her neck in the V of his arm, bicep and forearm pressing against her carotid arteries.

Jane’s vision started to tunnel into a gray blur. Her hands clenched Theo’s forearm. She gasped. “Theo! Please! Don’t!” Her voice was desperate and hoarse as she fought to stay conscious.

Theo stopped just before she went under, letting her body sag into the chokehold. Jane’s pulse pounded in her head as he relaxed just enough to keep her conscious. Jane’s vision was still hazy and she could feel the iron in Theo’s arm, ready to take her out at the slightest provocation. Dimly she could see the outline of a man in front of her. Michael? she wondered, just before he slapped her, left to right and then backhanded the other direction. His hand felt as if it would rip her head off.

Michael’s facade of self-control was finally gone. “Fucking cunt! I can’t believe you took out Beecee. He’s been with us since the beginning.” He slapped her again, then grabbed her short hair tight, wrenching her head back. “This time there’s no reason to stop, little whore,” he hissed into her face. “My brother and I are going to make sure you last a long time.” He bared his teeth in a cruel smile. “I’m sure those Russian bitches will appreciate the break. They don’t even know that we’re drugging them – they just wake up sore and tired. That’s because we’re merciful – to them.” Michael shook her head again, fist tight in her hair, and Jane moaned, her body helpless in Theo’s grip.

“You, baby, oh, you’re going to wake up mutilated, despairing, knowing exactly what we’ve done to you, and then we’ll just put you under again.” He laughed harshly. “You’ll be awake just long enough to wonder what part of your body will be cut off the next time you wake up.”

KUMIR, Chapter 23: The Eidolon of Lust

27 Dec

Le Temps des Finances by Apolonis

Wondering what this is about? Read prior chapters!

When Jason finally felt like opening his eye – only one was available, the other pressed against Jane’s warm skin – he saw the line of needles still sticking in her back, like strange little cel-towers on a warm skin-toned landscape. They’d stopped glowing, the tiny filigreed wires spiraling back in to protect the gems now that the healing was done. Jason sat up, seeing Jane and Isabella lying with eyes closed, breathing easily. Down at the foot of the bed Patrick was sitting quietly, looking at the two women, his hands now folded reverently in his lap.

Reaching for the crown of Jane’s head, Jason carefully withdrew the needle, wiping it down with a surgical cleanser before placing them one by one in the inlaid box. After the third one Jane smiled and stirred, turning her head silently to watch Jason. Isabella still rested, eyes closed. Patrick began untying the ropes slowly so as to not disturb her. Both men moved with a careful ritualistic reverence, only stopping on occasion to caress the Jane, who gave soft, happy murmurs at their touch. As the last coil of rope unwound from her calf Jane carefully slid off to the side of her sleeping friend. Now that the magic had calmed, there was a strange, post-orgiastic awkwardness in the room.

“You’re more than a barista, aren’t you, Jason?” Jane asked softly. He didn’t answer. He turned and rummaged some more in the lacquered case at the foot of the bed. Jane watched to see if he would answer, finally sighing and looking over at Isabella. Her wrists and legs were marked with the impressions of the hemp ropes. Her body sprawled lush and relaxed, her mouth slightly-open with a soft snore. (more…)

KUMIR: Chapter 21 – Enter the Qadish

18 Nov

KUMIR chapter 24: Diversionary Tactics

Jane snored softly, head in Isabella’s lap as the redhead calmly watched the goat eating. When the door clicked open Isabella looked up, still calm, only mildly curious, a soft smile on her face as a black-gloved hand edged around the opening. It was followed by a man in black fatigues and a military harness strapped over his broad chest. He wore a black bandana tight over his scalp and his face was smeared black with camo paint over and under his neatly trimmed beard. He crept into the room silently and efficiently, closing the door behind him. Putting an ear to the wood he listened for a moment, then glanced up at the cameras in the corners to verify their lights were out. He gave a grim nod and turned towards the two women.

He spoke into a small microphone strapped his shoulder. “Alec, this is Patrick. I’m in the room, video is confirmed disabled, I’m – holy shit!” His eyes widened as realized he was standing in a pool of blood. Beecee’s head was inches away from the edge of the man’s boot, eyes frozen wide with the shock of his unexpected death. The crimson pool was mottled with the white and blue of the biker’s intestines, spilling out of his large belly. The goat stood close over the grisly mound, and Patrick looked away, trying to ignore the happy muffled bleating of the goat as it continued to munch.

He looked at the women and swore again. Isabella looked up at him placidly, body smeared and crusted over with the dried remains of various body fluids. The wild tangle of her auburn hair looked muddy brown. Her eyes had deep circles of fatigue under them, but they still shone with the drug-induced devotion. She looked like a refugee from an 80’s punk band. (more…)

KUMIR, Chapter 20: Mangled Fuck in Blue

21 Oct

Editor’s note: As noted earlier, this is a novel about bad people doing bad things. This chapter gets extremely dark, and trigger warning for nonconsensual scenes of torture and sexual assault. Because this is about the villains, folks, and they are Bad People. Proceed at your own risk.

Jane came awake slowly, her head filled with a dull roaring tide of pain left over from the chokehold. She was laying naked on her side on what felt like a cement floor. She listened without opening her eyes, trying to orient herself. She couldn’t feel any bonds on her body or limbs. There were no street sounds, and as far as she could tell she was alone, wherever she was. Cracking one eye, she saw the corner of a frosted window high up in the wall letting a dirty gleam of daylight into the room through chain link barricades covering the frame.

She moved ever-so-slightly and realized that what she’d mistaken for freedom was actually her hands and arms numb in the tight ropes binding them. She didn’t try moving her hands – couldn’t feel them anyway – but instead shifted her shoulders with her breath, trying to gauge the range of motion available.

There wasn’t much, but the movement inspired a sudden click and sliding sound of a door opening. “Hello, Jane,” Theo’s voice echoed through the empty room cheerfully, and she opened her eyes fully just in time for a floor’s-eye view of his boot rushing towards her abdomen. (more…)

KUMIR, Chapter 19: The Bloody Sunset

1 Oct

courtesy Kylir Horton, via Flickr CCPadre Innocente looked over his empty chapel as the time for the exchange approached. Tall columns loomed over rows of empty pews cut by the diagonal rays of the setting sun slanting through the rose window. The glowing shafts of red, green, and blue speckled the rich dark wood and red velvet of the seats. A large and bloody figure of Christ crucified dominate the wall behind the priest, but he hardly gave it a thought. Like the altar before him, that symbol had long ago stopped having any spiritual significance. As he looked down at the altar, he felt again the physical urges sweep through him, and his face wrinkled slightly as he fought them. It was no use, though, and images of her on the altar – the way he wanted to – if only she’d… His breathing hissed through tight lips as he fought against the lust that invaded his mind.

Abruptly his face cleared. He might not serve the church any longer, but that simply meant a different master. While the relationship wasn’t giving him everything he wanted right now, the promise rewards were always tantalizingly close. Also, he reflected with a touch of fear, the consequences of failure even closer. Padre continued to play his part as a “spiritual leader”, as if he had something to offer the misshapen souls that came through the big sacristy doors in search of something beyond their pathetic lives. Over the years he had provided guidance, it is true, sending them wherever his Master wanted – off to New York City to feed the city’s vast hunger, or the hands of the Incubikers or Kitten’s Playroom here in Detroit. They all fed into the machine of control held tight in the Master’s hands.

Then she had come to town a few weeks ago. Isabella, the computer guy’s wife, bringing their son and her own special brand of sexy to the cybersex company. Padre’s master had seen this red-haired woman as an opportunity to gain more leverage over the wily Australian. He was to watch her, report, and then use her as his master directed, or send her off for someone else’s amusement. Padre Innocente had done it with dozens, hundreds, maybe, of girls before, and he’d meant to do it this time, too.

Really, he had.

But then that damned Greek gangster, Michael, had grabbed her – as if he knew there was something was special about her. A minor setback, but Padre was a patient man, and he knew how to wait for her to come into his sphere of influence. He hadn’t been surprised when one Sunday, in a fit of generosity, Michael had let Isabella come to Mass. Padre Innocente tried not to imagine what she had done for the filthy man in return for that brief freedom.

As he watched her from the pulpit that sabbath he knew her motivation wasn’t spiritual. The homily he’d delivered hundreds of times before suddenly felt foreign to his tongue, his mouth dry as he tried to maintain his composure in the presence of her glorious form. The homeless rejects who sparsely attended the service seemed oblivious, and Padre wanted to shout at them: Don’t you see? How can you not fall to her feet and worship her? SHE is the true divine!.

Isabella hadn’t even looked at the priest. Her gaze had focused beyond the bored Incubikers set to guard her to the pew on the left where a tiny boy sat next to his father across the aisle. Her son, Padre Innocente had realized, and her husband. That was the moment his passionate hatred for Alex, the man who dared claim that title, was born.

It burned deep and strong because as Padre looked at Isabella, her red hair wildly curling down her shoulders, her neck draped with a delicate chain hung with amber, her body a suggestive wave of lust covered by her wrap…he had fallen.

It was quite simple, really. His master wanted her, and eventually his master would have her. Padre Innocente had no doubt about that. But first, surely, he could have just a taste, just a bit more of that unnameable feeling that she inspired.

Surely the master would not mind that much? he had thought on that day, weeks ago, standing in this same pulpit.

Now he shivered as the cold fall air seeped through the thick stone walls of the sanctuary. His master had minded, it turned out, and was not pleased with the Padre’s attempts to console Isabella. It turned out that Michael’s kidnapping had been designed to demotivate her, to break her as so many other women had broken. As ineffective a priest as Padre was, his words had comforted her, given her hope of a negotiated peace to reunite her with her husband and son. Padre had given her carte blanche to come to him for support at any time. Then she had come, but not alone, not helpless so that he could be her salvation. No, she’d shown up with her husband and child in tow, and really…what else could he have done?

Padre shivered, remembering how beautiful she’d been, how her sad face had begun to lighten with hope the last time he’d seen her, leaving the chapel with that pitiful, unworthy scum who called himself her husband…

Innocente’s thoughts were interrupted as the door at the far end of the sacristy opened. The remains of the light outside starkly silhouetted a small form, sending long tails of Jane’s shadow darting up the aisle between the empty pews. She stepped in warily, eyes flashing up and around the large chapel, her hands open and ready at her sides.

Padre Innocente idly wondered if she had any guns or other weapons with her. He found this woman distasteful; her hair short, stunted like her body, nothing like the Isabella’s long lush beauty. Isabella’s beauty had been a lie, though, he reminded himself, a cruel teasing mockery. It stiffened his posture as Jane worked her way down the aisle.

When she reached the midpoint of the aisle, Jane finally focused on Padre Innocente. She smiled at him with a sarcastic, devilish grin that made him uncomfortably unsure whether she was planning to laugh at him or fuck him. He flexed his fingers, wanting to reach into his pocket for the comfort of what rested there.

He held still with the discipline of impersonated reverence, ignoring her smile. After a moment, she moved to sit in the pews at his left. Don’t think I missed you choosing the left hand of God, whorebitch he thought. She brought two fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle.

More silhouettes appeared at the door then. First Michael, then Theo supporting the shambling, barely-conscious Tony. The IncuBiker leader’s hands were palm out before him, showing peaceful intent. He looked for all the world like a supplicant come to the faith at last. The trio paused at the head of the aisle, looking down the expanse of the sacristy towards where Padre Innocente stood.

He waited a moment to see if more IncuBikers followed, but none did. The priest knew they waited just outside, but outside was all he needed. He lifted his right hand, two fingers raised together as if about to bestow a blessing. Behind him, the door to the vestibule cracked open, and Kitten peeked out. “Is – is it safe?” she asked, querulously, and Michael’s sardonic laughter echoed through the church.

Is it safe? Are you really asking that? And me without my dental chair…” He smiled over at his brother, but Theo was looking at him blankly. “’Is it safe.’ Olivier? Marathon Man?” As Theo continued to look at him with a blank stare, he shook his head. “Oh, my brother. I have neglected your education…” He looked down the aisle again and called out. “It’s as safe as it’s gonna get, bitch. You have the flash drive?”

She nodded, and handed it to Padre Innocente, who motioned to Theo and both began walking down the aisle towards each other.

Michael and Kitten watched their designates slowly approach each other at the center of the chapel. Michael had a frowning, almost bored expression while Kitten nervously shifted her weight back and forth, fingers fluttering first at her chest then dropping and drumming frenetically at her legs. Jane leaned back in the pew, legs crossed, watching it all with an amused and aloof expression as if in a box seat at a Shakespearean drama.

As the Incubiker and his captive came closer, Padre Innocente saw Tony’s face, a ruin of puffy flesh, ragged cuts and abrasions. One eye was swollen shut and there was a thin trail of spittle drizzling down the left side of his mouth. Dark bruises on his torso were visible through a rip in his shirt and one foot seemed to be twisted off to the side, necessitating Theo’s support under his shoulder. Padre Innocente closed his eyes, realizing he actually had a shred of sympathy for the man. Then he remembered his master’s priorities his eyes snapped open, dark and glittering.

Padre had carefully paced it so that they all reached the midpoint of the sanctuary where Jane sat at the same time. Without looking at her he held out the flash drive and Jane took it casually. Lifting her other hand she fit it into a socket near the wrist of her fingerless glove. She stretched her fingers flat, the small black squares of plastic on each knuckle aligning to form a small rectangular screen. It flickered amber, small lines of text appearing row after row. Jane tsked with approval and looked up at Theo as if she were about to say something. Seeing his serious face she apparently thought better of it and simply nodded.

Theo nodded back, and sullenly dipped from under Tony’s arm. The wounded man sagged, barely managing a half-step towards the priest. Padre Innocente caught him awkwardly, his white robes instantly soaked with blood that covered Tony from head to toe. Theo turned and began walking back up the aisle where his brother waited, ignoring Jane.

She stood but waited a moment longer to make sure the beaten Tony and the priest could walk back. That meant she saw Kitten first. The aging porn starlet was standing in front of the altar, the last of the evening night glittering orange reflections on the blade she held at Isabella’s throat.

Theo was still walking towards his brother, blocking his view, and so Michael saw them just as Theo grinned and yelled “Now, Beecee!” Michael’s incoherent “No!I” followed a split second later.

Padre and Tony reacted very differently to the shouts as they stumbled down the aisle between the pews. Tony hunched, conditioned to associate those voices with the onset of more pain. He curled away from the priest and fell painfully thump to the worn carpet.

Padre Innocente, angry at the idea of any voice but his being raised in his chapel, turned indignantly towards the Doukas brothers. Beecee’s bullet, fired from the choir loft, tore through his left jugular and exited the back of his neck, half decapitating him. His head flopped forward onto his chest, eyes still rolling wildly, body still too shocked to fall. The last image on Padre Innocente’s retinas was not, as he would have liked, the tearful face of Isabella, crying at his demise. Instead he saw Jane, upside down, looking at him with pity. He wanted to snarl at her, to roar out the truth of his master and his awesome purpose and make her tremble in fear.

That was his final thought – of his master, and how terribly disappointed he would be at Padre’s failure. As the darkness engulfed him in an inexorable tide of cold oblivion, the priest had time for one final wish.

He wished he were an atheist.

Michael found his words as the priest’s body thumped to the ground, shouting “Hold your fire, Beecee!” even as the clear metal click of another round being chambered into the rifle came from the loft.

Kitten screamed. “I have her, Michael, and I will slit her fucking throat right now if you do anything else to my husband!” Her voice was edged with a twangy panicked whine as she beckoned her husband. “Come on, Tony, love, come here, we’ll get away…”

Tony tried to get up, but fell again, clutching his side. Michael swore, eyes fixed on Isabella. Theo was looking back and forth, first at his brother, then down the aisle to where Kitten held Isabella as a human shield. He was torn between not understanding his brother’s obsession and fearing him enough to not dare object to it.

Jane looked at Isabella. She was dressed for travel in an open-necked white blouse and jeans, hair pulled back in a ponytail which Kitten used to pull her head back viciously. Isabella didn’t look at Jane. Instead she leveled a burning glare at the fallen body of the priest, slowly bleeding out a final sacrament into the center of the chapel. Janes hands flexed as if wanting to hold something, but no one seemed able to move except for Tony, inching his way towards his wife’s end of the chapel.

“For fuck’s sake, Jane, help him out,” Theo finally said, and Jane jumped at the sound. She glanced back at the brothers and saw that Michael was still staring at Isabella, the fear replaced with a growing anger. “Jealous boy…” she murmured, shrugging, and stepped into the aisle, doing her best to avoid Padre Innocente’s blood. She reached Tony within a few steps and bent down to help the injured man to his feet.

As they hobbled along she did her best to support him but everywhere she touched seemed to bring a new hiss of pain. Some places were worse than others, moving under her hands with the sickening wrongness of broken bones. When they finally reached Kitten and Isabella, Tony focused his one good eye on his wife and her strategy for saving him.

“No, ya bitch!” he moaned hoarsely. “Without the fookin’ ginger whore we’ve got nothing – we need the…this was all for…” He reached out towards Isabella and the woman hissed in disgust as his bloody hands ineffectually smeared her white shirt crimson.

Her reaction inspired a reaction in Tony. He looked wildly between Isabella and his wife. Something seemed to give him more energy, perhaps the imminent reality of his escape from the IncuBikers, and he pushed Jane away. He braced himself at the edge of the altar and Jane stood there as he and his wife made their slow, hobbling way. Kitten kept the knife at Isabella’s throat until they reached the doorway of the sacristy. As Tony pushed it open Michael’s voice rang out. “Take her and I will tear that building to the ground, Nesmith!”

Tony turned, a wild smile twisting his broken mouth. “Take the bitch, then!” he laughed, nudging his wife’s arm. She frowned, protesting, and he roared at her. “Let her go, ye fookin’ cuntbag! We don’t need her anymore!” Eyes widening with understanding, Kitten pushed Isabella hard and simultaneously stepped back with her husband. The door shut with a solid thud as they locked it. Isabella stumbled back towards the altar, trying to recover her balance.

Jane caught her before she fell, eyes full of questions. She didn’t dare ask anything as they both stood. Michael and Theo were walking quickly down the aisle, leaping over the remains of Padre Innocente like wolves on a hunt.

“Thank you, Jane,” Michael said, grabbing Isabella’s arm and pulling her to his side. He held out his other hand. “The flash drive?” Jane nodded absently, eyes still on Isabella as she unclipped it from her glove and gave it to him. Then she looked away, muttering to herself. Michael tilted his head. “What was that?” he asked in a mild tone.

“I said, Mr. Doukas, that was quite the clusterfuck.” She motioned towards Padre Innocente. “Was that really necessary?”

“Of course not.” Michael’s tone hardened. “In fact, it was entirely unexpected – as was her being here.” He pulled Isabella closer, then paused. He looked at the redhead with a puzzled expression. Isabella returned his gaze coolly as if nothing was wrong, as if she hadn’t shown up in the hands of his enemies instead of in the lavish prison he’d created for her.

Michael studied her a moment longer, then turned to Jane. “Speaking of surprises, Kitten called me just before we got here. She wanted to clarify one detail that you got wrong about that video.”

‘”Oh?” Jane said, voice casual, shoulders tensing.

‘”Yes. She told me the whole video was shot from the point of view of someone sitting on top of the tanker.” He waited, but Jane didn’t respond. “She also told me that it showed all of my boys, especially Theo. In fact, there was only one person it didn’t show at all.” He paused again, then nodded towards her. “You.”

Jane bent her knees to spring at Michael when Theo’s arm came around her throat. She felt his muscles clench around her carotid arteries like an iron vise. She coughed and struggled as he lifted her entirely off the ground.

Michael reached into his pocket. “I didn’t need her to tell me that, though, to know you were a scheming bitch,” he continued. “You also left this in Isabella’s room.” He held up the silver sarong she’d worn during her duel with Theo. He dropped it fluttering to the floor as Jane lost consciousness.

Isabella watched Jane’s body go limp as Theo grinned. She looked bored and pressed closer to Michael with an easy possessiveness. “Yeah, the little lezzy just wanted to fuck me the same way all your boys do, Michael. Throw her ass back on the street. ” She traced a finger idly down his jaw, a purr of lust filling her voice. “You never did celebrate your victory over Tony, you know…”

Michael pulled away and looked at her, his expression still puzzled. “When I first saw you,” he said, “you filled my vision. I couldn’t eat or sleep without wanting you, craving you, more than anything else. Your touch made my head feel brighter than the best drugs I’d ever tried. You completely entranced me.” Suddenly he shifted, grabbing her wrist hard. She cried out as he forced her to her knees.

“I don’t know why, but you don’t do that any more,” he said flatly, raising his fist. “and that pisses me off.” His punch caught her flat against the side of her head. Isabella’s eyes rolled up and she slumped unconscious to the floor next to the crumpled pile of silver fabric that glittered with the last rays of the sun.


KUMIR, Chapter 18: The Mouth of the Messenger

6 Sep


“She has what?” Michael shouted into Jane’s face. Theo stood next to the desk looking worriedly at his brother while BeeCee lurked behind his boss glaring at her. His forehead was still bandaged where her whip had marked him. In the corner of the office Tony lay in a pool of his own blood. He was breathing raggedly, bound tight with some rough manila rope.

Jane kept her voice low and calm. “As best I can tell, she has footage of Theo helping Ksenja and the other Russian whores out of the truck. She said that the DA gets it unless Tony comes back unharmed.”

Theo laughed harshly. “Unharmed?” He gestured towards Tony’s limp body in the corner.

Jane sighed. “Yeah, I told her that really wasn’t an option. But I downplayed it – told her he’d gotten a little roughed up but he’d be fine.” She looked earnestly at Michael. “I told her she should take what she could get. She said she just wants things back the way they were.” Jane paused, trying to guage Michael’s reaction, but the gang leader just kept the same frown and angry glare. Jane gave a little shrug. “I think we could get the video pretty easily if we promise her that.”

“You’re right.” Michael’s voice was even again, sounding like the soul of reason. Theo relaxed his shoulders slightly as his older brother turned to look at him. “What do you think, Theo?”

His second-in-command gave a wry smile. “We could do that, I guess. We’ve still got the whores…”

Michael seemed to not hear his brother. He snapped his fingers. “Come to think of it, if we gave them Isabella too, that would patch things up even more.”

Theo looked up sharply at his brother. “Um…well…I don’t know if we…”

“And then, Theo,” Michael continued, “we could shave your ass so that when you bent over for Kitten to fuck you she wouldn’t scratch her shiny pleather harness. Maybe BeeCee could gargle her piss, while we’re at it.” BeeCee worriedly glanced at his boss, not sure where this was going but sure he didn’t like it.

“For that matter,” Michael’s voice never raised a decibel, pronouncing each word with vicious banality, “maybe we should let dear Ms. Jane here pull a train on all three of us first. You haven’t been airtight with the Incubikers yet, have you, Ms. Jane? What does that cost-wait, let me guess. $1500? Each?” His words may have been calm, but his glare could have melted an engine block.

Jane looked unimpressed. “Hey, Mr. Doukas, don’t shoot the messenger. Yeah, I’m usually tryin’ to make a buck, but I’m not any happier about this news than you are. I was there when Theo grabbed the whores, too. I dunno how Kitten got it – maybe some kind of remote upload – but I’m telling you, Theo and BeeCee and everybody, including me, is in it clear as day.”

“Fuck,” Theo breathed softly. He looked down at the floor. “OK, big brother. I get it. We don’t bend over for the bitch. But what are we gonna do, then? We don’t own this DA like the last one.”

Michael stood up suddenly, and Jane was the only one who didn’t flinch. Her eyes stayed locked on Michael’s, neither challenging nor submissive. The older man stood for a moment, considering, then answered Theo. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, little brother. We’re going to use your pussy-du-jour one more time to set them up.” He turned his head slightly, speaking over his shoulder. “BeeCee!”

“Yeah, boss?”

“You still got that rifle?”

“Yeah, boss!” BeeCee sounded eager at the thought of some action.

“Good.” Looking forward again, his voice lowered to a growl. “Ms. Jane. I will be paying you $5000 for this.” Jane opened her mouth to reply, but Michael cut her off. “That will be the last money you see from this town, understand?” His eyes glittered. “I’m tired of your mouth, no matter well it sucks my brother’s cock.” He waited. Jane closed her mouth and simply nodded.

It seemed to satisfy him. “Good.” His voice took on a more businesslike tone as he laid out the plan. In the corner, the puddle of blood continued to spread around Tony’s ravaged form.

Kumir Chapter 15: Tension Relief

9 May

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.

KUMIR, Chapter 12 (part the first): The Duel

14 Jan

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!” (more…)