Keywords: MF, MFF, Mult, violent, slow Part: 8 of 8 Author: Knave of Hearts
Title: Grim Fairy Tales
Chapter 25: Hooke meets Felicia Paulus Hooke, Bobby's mercenary,
traveled westward in the daily police convoy. He drummed his fingers on
the steering console, impatient with the 30 mph progress that the long
string of vehicles made. Looking at the sergeant sitting in the
passenger seat next to him, Hooke attempted a joke.
"Here's some serious progress, eh? This drive used to take three and a
half hours. Now it takes two days."
His mirrored sunglasses masked the sergeant's face. "At least you get
there alive," the deadpanned.
Deciding to do something other than talk with his passenger, Hooke keyed
his cell phone and dialed the number that Bobby had given him.
"Miss Thompson, please," he said when a voice answered.
"This is Felicia Thompson. Who's speaking please?"
"I'm an associate of Mr. Tyler's," Hooke didn't want to talk too much
in front of the PG sergeant. "He suggested that we meet and help each
other out."
The name of their mutual patron had the hair on the back of Felicia's
neck standing on end. "Yes."
Hooke sensed her hesitation so he took charge. "Name a place to meet
tonight. Some place private."
"But I'm not sure . . . That is, I'm . . ." She seemed at a loss for
words.
"Fine. We'll meet at your place. I have the address." He waited for
her to say something but Felicia remained silent. "I'll see you around
eight. We'll keep this casual. OK?"
"Um...OK. I guess that's the best way to do it."
"It is. See you at eight."
Hooke keyed the phone again. This time he hit Bobby's number on speed
dial. A female voice answered Bobby's private line.
"Yes."
"Mr. Tyler, please."
Hooke sniffed dismissively; he wasn't about to talk business with some
bed warmer. There was a pause before Bobby answered the phone.
"Tyler."
"I'm close. I've made contact with your girl."
"Good. If she gives you any trouble, she's back on the highway. You
tell her that. Just let her know you work for me." Bobby emphasized the
last part for Hooke's benefit. "Oh, by the way. She likes it up the ass.
Enjoy."
"Ciao." Hooke hung up, wondering about the people that his job brought
him in contact with.
The sergeant didn't make a sound for the last hour of the trip. He sat
like a statue in the passenger seat behind his mirrored sunglasses. Once
they reached the last checkpoint, Hooke said goodbye to his enigmatic
passenger and eagerly headed for Felicia's apartment.
Hooke pulled his sleek, expensive car on to her street, very aware that
he was sticking out like a sore thumb. He pulled the car into her
building's parking lot and got out. Looking over at the knot of that
were sitting at one corner of the parking lot, he motioned for one of them
to come over. Lighting a cigarette while the sauntered over, Hooke
looked up as the laborer made it within conversation range.
"You live here?"
"Yeah. Whatchu doing round here? 'Specially in that nice ride. Aren't
you afraid it'll get scratched?"
"Yep. That's why I want you to watch it for me." Hooke pulled a fifty
dollar bill from his wallet and held it up. "What's your name?"
"Jerry."
"Well Jerry." Hooke suddenly tore the crisp bill in half. He handed one
part to the man. "This is a down payment. If I leave and my car is
alright, you get the other half." Jerry took the half bill and looked like
he was going to say something clever but Hooke continued. "And if the
slightest thing is wrong with my new car," he paused and caught Jerry's
eyes. "I'll kill your family."
Jerry didn't look like he was impressed by the threat. He'd heard them
before. He just nodded slightly. He was more interested in the other half
of the fifty than in seeing if this guy was the real thing.
Hooke walked confidently toward Felicia's townhouse. While he looked
calm, his brain raced to observe his surroundings. Escape routes.
Possible threats. Paulus Hooke had survived this long because he treated
the world as a combat zone. Observers would have called him overly
cautious. A psychologist would have called him a paranoid psychotic.
Arriving at her apartment door, Hooke ran his hand over his hair to make
sure it was neat before he rang the doorbell. Felicia answered
immediately.
"Hello. I've been expecting you."
He pushed the door open and stepped inside without answering her. Hooke
closed the door behind him and looked around the cramped apartment. There
wasn't much to see. The sitting room had cheap, new furniture clustered
around a small vid unit. A kitchenette lined one wall. He walked over to
the window and noted that the bedroom door was open. It looked as if she'd
just moved in.
Hooke smiled and turned around quickly, surprising Felicia and making
her jump back against the door.
"Nice to meet you Felicia. My name is Hooke." His face held a false
smile, the kind that didn't extend to his eyes. "Mr. Tyler's told me a
lot about you."
"Yes." She was unsure what he meant. "Can I get you something to
drink?"
"Vodka. On the rocks."
He watched her walk to the kitchenette. She hadn't changed from her
office clothes.
"You're a nice looking woman Felicia."
She sounded as if she was unsure how to take the compliment. "Thank
you."
Felicia stretched to remove the bottle from the cabinet shelf and Hooke
murmured as he admired her tight bottom. She looked at him through lowered
eye lashes, uncomfortable with his open leering. When she brought him his
drink, he made no attempt to disguise his lecherous gaze down her shirt.
"Yes. A nice looking woman indeed."
Hooke took a sip of the clear liquor. He made eye contact with her over
the rim of the glass.
"I'm here to find something for Mr. Tyler. Do you understand?"
She nodded her head silently. She stood in front of him, captivated
like a deer in a set of headlights. She could neither move nor break his
hypnotic gaze.
"You're going to help me. I want to know about a named Arabella
Hood. Friends, hangouts, the whole deal. Questions?"
She shook her head slightly from side to side.
"Mr. Tyler wanted me to remind you how much his good graces mean to
you. You do what I say, when I say, or you'll be taking it up the ass in
some roadside whore house." He saw a sheen of perspiration on her forehead.
"But you like it up the ass, don't you my dear?"
Felicia didn't move. She felt torn between doing what she knew she
needed to do to survive and running from the room screaming. The
desperation that she had felt when she'd had to leave Washington D.C. came
flooding back. She remembered the ruined city; her home in flames, her
expensive car destroyed, the heat of the long walk through all of the
unfriendly little towns. Taking a deep breath, she shivered but stayed
where she was.
Hooke saw that she had acquiesced. She would do what ever he needed her
to do.
"Come on over here Felicia." he patted the sofa cushion next to his.
"It was a long journey. Why don't we get to know each other a little
better?"
His implication was unmistakable. Felicia, showing a burst of bravado,
made a show of looking him up and down.
"Well, at least you're cute," she said as she unbuttoned her blouse.
"Baby ducks and little kittens are cute," Hooke scoffed.
"I'll bet I can make you purr," she said as she undid her belt and
unzipped her skirt.
Felicia made sure he got a good look at her body as she folded
her clothes over the back of a dining room chair. She stood, her arms
akimbo, in her cream-colored bra and garter set in front of the sofa.
"Now it's your turn," she said confidently.
Hooke put down his drink. "Cut the shit and get over here."
"We're partners." She giggled at her own boldness. "And I want to make
sure you're not hung like a sardine."
Hooke smiled, a genuine smile this time, and pushed himself to his feet.
At least she wasn't a complete pushover. "Well, Felicia, this might work
after all," he said.
He never looked away from her as he stripped. His movements were quick
and efficient. He hung his jacket on the back of a chair, carefully
smoothing out any wrinkles. While he folded his and placed it on to
the table, Felicia noted the scars on his chest and arms.
"You look a bit chewed up. Are you some kind of street samurai? Is
that why Tyler sent you here?"
Hooke didn't answer immediately her but a small sneer crept across his
mouth as he folded his trousers and placed them over the back of another
chair.
"No. I'm a draga plumber on a guardian angel job."
Felicia understood him despite the street slang he used. He was an
expensive gunslinger who had been hired to find and protect someone. And
she was expected to help him.
Hooke stood naked in front of her, haughtily enjoying the look on her
face as she watched his long cock twitch and harden. He stroked himself
slowly and made his cock thicken.
"And the verdict is?"
"Good size. round head," she admitted. "Now let's see if you
know how to use it."
Felicia closed the distance between them and smoothly went to her knees.
He held his semi-stiff cock as she extended her tongue and lightly licked
its head. Still without using her hands, she ran her tongue in a circle
around his plum colored knob, making it wet and shiny. Felicia looked up
and watched his face as she leaned forward and took his cock into her
mouth.
Hooke grunted softly as he felt her warm, wet mouth envelope his
manhood. Taking that as his approval she cradled his balls in her hands and
took more of him into her mouth. He felt his rod swell and grow, filling
her mouth until it nudged against the back of her throat.
He pulled his cock out of her mouth and boosted Felicia to her feet.
His hands cupped her ass and pulled her to him. They kissed deeply and
Hooke could taste his salty pre-cum on her tongue. He dipped his knees and
then lifted the on to the back of the sofa. She wrapped her
legs around his hips and squirmed as he guided his schlong into her
ready cunt.
Felicia took the entire length of his cock in a single thrust, gasping
as she felt him her love tunnel and fill her with his hard throbbing
manhood. She held him deep inside her for a moment and then used her
vaginal muscles to squeeze his cock shaft.
Hooke groaned appreciatively, "God, that's amazing."
He started sliding himself in and out of her willing pussy, slowly at
first and then with more speed and force. Felicia threw her head back and
felt his powerful muscles flex and contract as he drilled his cock into her
willing hole. He sat her on the couch's back and lowered his mouth to her
tits while he fucked her. A small cry escaped her as he bit her swollen
nipple with his teeth. The pain was sharp but fleeting and Felicia could
feel her pulse pounding in her head.
"More. Give me more."
"Yeah. I'll give you what you want."
Hooke reached beneath Felicia's bottom and scooped up some of her love
juices. He slowed his cock's pace while he smeared the oily fluid around
Felicia's tightly puckered backdoor.
"Bobby told me you like it in the ass." Hooke inserted his digit
into her rectum. "Now why don't you relax and we'll both enjoy this."
He balanced her on the couch and sneered victoriously as Felicia mutely
lifted her knees and bared her ass to him. Hooke aimed his slick cock at
her ass.
"Please go slow," she begged. "Please."
Hooke ignored her pleas and pushed his prick into her with a sharp
thrust. Her ass clamped down against his invasion and Felicia cried out in
pain. Ignoring her pleas for him to stop, it took him three more jabs
before his cock was totally encased in her ass. Once inside her, he reamed
her asshole with long, deep strokes. His face wore a mask of pleasure.
Felicia moaned incoherently as her pain faded into bliss.
She held her knees back to her and chanted breathlessly as his cock
sawed in and out of her back passage. "Cum. Cum. Cum."
Crying out as Hooke's cock finally released its load and pumped his hot
cum into her deepest recesses, Felicia felt her body convulse. Hooke's
body trembled and he sighed contentedly as he gently helped Felicia slid
down from her precarious perch. He staggered back from the sofa and
admired Felicia's distended asshole drooling his pearly down her thigh.
"I think it's time I left."
Hooke walked to the kitchen and wiped his cock with a napkin.
Returning, he bent toward her and kissed her softly on the lips. She
kissed him back but when she opened her eyes and looked into his face, she
sighed.
"You're not staying here?"
Felicia gulped as she realized what she had just said. She hadn't meant
to say anything but it had just come out. The scornful look on his face
told her all she need to know about what he was feeling. He had used her;
fucked her like a nameless, faceless whore.
"No. I need to find a place where we can take our prize after we've
captured her. Someplace a little more private than here."
Leaving Felicia sitting quietly on the couch, Hooke quickly dressed and
walked to the door. Felicia levered herself on to her feet, conscious of
the spooge running down her leg. She watched him leave with out moving
from the living room. Hooke looked over his shoulder at her. Her bravado
was gone. She looked vulnerable once again.
"I'll be in touch," he said as he stepped through the door.
Jerry sat on the sidewalk in front of his car. Hooke tossed him the
wadded up half of the fifty dollar bill as he climbed into the car without
saying a word.
Chapter 26: The Fifth of July Arabella was confused, torn by her fears
and Simon's desire for commitment. Her breakfast shift in the mess hall
had just ended and Arabella walked back toward the campsite, her mind
churning through all the things that she wanted to tell Simon. Important
things. But she didn't know how to start. Suddenly, the clouds in her
thinking parted and she had the answer.
"I'll call Safi!" she said to no one in particular.
Although she'd found the answer, finding proved frustratingly
difficult. Arabella spent the morning on the phone trying to locate
Granny. Finally, with the time for the lunch shift close, Arabella
dialed the FEMA office. Felicia, Simon's secretary, answered and sounded
overjoyed to hear from her.
Questions shot back and forth as the two women caught up with each
other. Arabella nervously evaded Felicia's unspoken question about where
she'd been, changing the subject to office gossip. Arabella found out that
Granny, ever the energetic party girl, had dropped from site when Arabella
had gone away.
Felicia's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I think that
Saffron's in some kind of trouble."
A feeling of dread crept up Arabella's spine. "What do you mean?"
"You know how she was hanging out with a guy named Paris? Well, the PG
came around asking about folks that knew him. That was about the same time
she got scarce."
"But she hasn't been arrested has she?"
"Not that I've heard. I'm starting to get worried about her. Are you
coming home soon?"
"I'll try. I'm with some friends at a place called Calypso's but I
think I can make it home by the weekend."
Felicia gasped as she realized that she was on the brink of
accomplishing the task that Hooke had set for her. She was going to get
Arabella to come to them. But she had to act quickly.
"OK. Great. Look, don't come into the office. People will just ask
too many questions." Felicia thrashed through her desk drawers looking for
the police convoy schedule. "If you can, get a seat in the convoy tonight
and I'll meet you in Fishersville. We'll find Saffron together."
Arabella felt relieved that someone was offering to help without
expecting anything in return. "Felicia, I can't thank you enough."
"Don't think about it. You just get home."
Felicia carefully pressed the button to disconnect the call and took a
deep breath. She looked around the office to make sure that she wouldn't
be interrupted before she dialed the next phone number.
"Hooke?" she said in a whisper.
"Yeah."
"I just talked with Arabella Hood. She's on her way home."
"You're hosing me." Hooke laughed out loud. His fortune was looking up
finally. "Good girl. You know we're trying to avoid any police
involvement.
"No sweat. I'll meet her day after tomorrow in Fishersville and bring
her to you."
"Well you've earned a reward lady. Come on out to my place and
we'll celebrate."
Felicia wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or dismayed at Hooke's
blatant invitation, but she knew that she couldn't refuse. She hung up the
phone and looked at the clock, there was a lot to do before Arabella came
home.
Chapter 27: Simon goes to Town. Simon was uneasy. Arabella had been
avoiding him since their discussion in the shower the night before. With a
heavy load on his mind he had made his way back into the city to continue
outprocessing. The lines were as long as they had been before the
holidays; the only change was that it was hotter. As Simon despaired at
the thought of sitting in another line, he knew that he had to leave the
Army properly this time or they'd just show up on his doorstep again.
Finally, he had made it to the front of the line. Anxiously perched on
the front of his chair, Simon made sure that his paperwork was in order.
Simon readied himself to answer the clerk's question as fast as he could.
"Uhh. I'm sorry Major Woodsman. Someone's flagged your records. I've
got to make some phone calls. It won't take a minute." The clerk smiled
apologetically but it was clear that there was nothing for Simon to do but
wait.
After a few minutes on the phone, whispering his name and ID number to
whomever he was talking to, the clerk looked up and flashed another
apologetic smile. "It won't be much longer sir. They're sending someone
down to take care of you. Could you wait over there?"
Simon gathered up his papers and relinquished his seat to the next
fortunate in line. A few minutes later a soldier stuck his head in the
door and called out Simon's name. A sleek staff car sped them across town
to one of the plush hotels that the military had commandeered during the
Rebellion. Another soldier met him at the hotel's entrance and guided
Simon past the large pool to a secluded bungalow.
A small group of sat on the bungalow's porch. Simon immediately
recognized the at the center of their assembly. Major General Arthur
Manlius. Surrounding him were the that the media portrayed as the
general's "brain trust". Yes one and all, Simon thought.
The guide offered Simon a seat but the general made no move to greet
him. Simon sat and made polite small talk with the people on either side of
him while lunch was served. Most of the conversation centered on the
pacification of the Eastern Shore and the military's plans for the future.
Simon winced as the general's flunkies spoke cavalierly about "intervention
squads" and the sweeping legal powers that the President had granted the
occupying forces under a set of legislation called Article 9.
Simon's eyes narrowed suspiciously when he recognized the that brought the food in from the kitchen. From his place at the
head of the table, Manlius noticed this and gloated softly at the look on
Simon's face.
"That's right Major, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. She's the
same lady that caused a bit of ruckus during the Rebellion."
The general threw his arm around her waist and gathered the silent to him, patting her hip possessively. "Her daddy thumped his Bible when he
had the connections. But then the Article 9 commission got wind of his
rebel friends." He paused for dramatic effect. "And he got sent back to
school," he said using the euphemism for a government re-education camp.
There was polite laughter from the general's sycophants. "Even his
political buddies couldn't interfere with Article 9," Manlius boasted.
Simon gave the general a slight smile and nodded. Manlius, sensing that
his audience was receptive, released his hold on Christine and charged
ahead with the real subject of the meeting.
"So Major Woodsman, you're getting out?"
"Yes sir," Simon said.
"Then I think we might be able to help each other."
"How do you mean, sir?"
General Manlius leaned back in his chair and smiled as if he'd been
waiting for this question. "It's a new era, son," he spoke to the table at
large, "and leaders need to attune themselves to all segments of the
population." There was a polite scattering of nods around the table as the
flunkies warmed up to the fact that their boss was on his soapbox.
"And how do I fit in?" Simon's question froze the conversation. The
Chief of Staff looked like he had swallowed something rotten, but the
general recovered smoothly from the interruption.
"That's what I'm asking you." Manlius pulled a handheld computer from
his suit pocket. Reading the small screen, he tut-tutted to himself.
"Woodsman. Simon M. Major. Assigned to First of the Twenty-sixth
Infantry. Regular Army. Six foot one, 185 pounds. Seems to be a little
confusion about that unit. It never seems to have been deactivated. . ."
"A hundred and eighty five? I swear I've lost at least ten pounds."
Unruffled, the general put the computer away and put on his best
'fatherly' look. "What I'm saying Major is that we're asking you to join
the team."
Manlius casually held out his hand and accepted the cigar that Christine
placed there. As she bent to offer the general a light, Simon noticed the
red welt that crossed her shapely rear end. Manlius puffed noisily on his
double corona.
"There are really only two sides to this situation." The general blew a
cloud of blue smoke above the table. Simon held his breath to keep from
coughing. "Ours. And our enemies."
"Well sir. I guess when you look at it that way. . ."
Simon was interrupted by a sudden commotion from the pool area. The
general looked around, annoyed that his dramatic moment had been spoiled.
Christine, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth, looked
over the screen of bushes and told the group, "Mr. Tyler is here."
Those simple words seemed to curdle in General Manlius' stomach. Simon
sensed the moment and excused himself, passing behind the screen of
ornamental plants as he left the pool area. Through the bushes, he could
see Bobby mugging for the media cameras that he had undoubtedly brought
with him, and the general, glowering as if someone had pissed in his
champagne, emerging from the shadow of his bungalow to stand in the
sunlight with the politician.
Simon walked quickly through the hotel lobby and nodded to the doorman
for a cab. A piercing whistle stopped him as he was about to get in to the
back of a local taxi. Juliet, her shoulder length hair framing her
beautiful tan face, waved him over to her convertible sports car.
"Where the hell did you come from?" Simon asked as he climbed down into
the roadster's sleek leather seats.
"Shut up and listen." Juliet stomped on the accelerator and shot from
the hotel's driveway across two lanes of traffic. "Your girlfriend is
swimming in shit lover boy. The heat's looking for her because she was
messing around with a guy named Paris Mawbry."
"I know." Simon sounded a lot calmer than he felt.
Juliet slapped his thigh with a well manicured hand. "Well aren't you
pissing ice water!"
Simon noticed that her short skirt accentuated her long tan legs.
Juliet swerved to miss a slow moving car and Simon jerked his eyes back to
the road.
"Get the folder out of the glove box. You're officially out of the
Army," she said.
He fumbled with the catch and removed the crisp manila folder.
"What's this going to cost me?" he said warily. "The last favor I you
gave me put me in the middle of a war."
Juliet kept her eyes on the traffic and continued to talk in the same
sassy, streetwise tone. "Don't say thank you. Just get your ass back to
Staunton and get your girl."
"What?"
"She left in this afternoon's convoy. She'll be home by tomorrow
afternoon. If they let her live." The powerful car smoothly slid next to
the curve and stopped.
"But why are you doing this?" Hundreds of questions flooded his mind.
She gave him an annoyed look. "Cause I'm your fairy fucking godmother.
Why else?"
As Simon scrambled to pull himself up from the low car, she added the
kicker. "It's almost midnight Cinderella. Watch your back."
Simon stood on the curb dumbfounded as Juliet hit the accelerator and
sped away in traffic.
-=)0(= Arabella rode the convoy bus, near sick with fear for herself and
Granny. She had always known that Granny's free spirit, "live for today",
lifestyle had her mentor walking on thin ice when it came to the
authorities, but she had a definite feeling that this time was worse than
ever before. The bus was quiet. Most of the passengers were soldiers
being demobilized from the Rebellion. Looking around her at the other
passengers, Arabella thought of Simon.
The bus pulled into Fishersville early on the second day of travel.
Arabella quickly disembarked and, not having any luggage, disappeared
toward the coffee shop that Felicia had told her about. Felicia was there,
as promised, and Arabella made only a passing note of the worried look on
the secretary's face. Once in Felicia's little car, Arabella started
asking about Granny. Felicia admitted to not being able to track down but told Arabella that they were going to a "friend's" house to up and think of ways to find without attracting a whole lot of
attention to themselves.
Felicia drove up to a small camp cabin at the end of a gravel road.
'Isolated' was the thought that entered Arabella's mind as she followed her
lover's secretary up the wooden stairs and into the small building. The
interior of the cabin was sparsely furnished with battered, seedy
furniture. At the table sat a tall, muscular in a white dress and
extravagantly patterned vest.
Arabella looked puzzled as the stood and moved toward her. She
noticed the sparkle of diamonds in his cufflinks as he stuck out his hand
to greet her. She also noticed that his conceited smile didn't extend to
his eyes.
Felicia made the introductions. "Arabella Hood, this is Mr. Hooke."
He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Please, let's not be so formal. Call
me Hooke."
"Do you know where Saffron Hodges is?"
Hooke ignored her question and poured her a tumbler full of crystal
clear liquid. "Do you take ice?"
Arabella didn't move.
"Please take a seat. I asked Felicia to bring you here because we have
some mutual friends that are interested in helping you and Saffron. I
believe you call her Granny? Yes, anyway. These friends are most
concerned about keeping you and safe from the authorities." He took
a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers. "Things are so difficult
these days with the trials on and all. Don't you agree?"
Arabella nodded. She slowly sat in the chair he'd offered; watching him
like a small bird watches a snake as it slithers close by.
"And what do you need from me?" Arabella knew that there was something
this wanted from her.
"I happen to know that you were a companion of a named Paris
Mawbry." He saw Arabella start to deny it, but he cut her off. "I know
this because I spoke with some of the people in Eastville. They remember
you."
Arabella reached forward for the glass. The vodka smelled like raw
alcohol.
Hooke snapped his fingers to Felicia to act as hostess. "Would you like
some apple juice? It makes the vodka smoother for those not used to its
bite." He took another sip and then returned to business.
"Your friend Paris had an indiscrete habit of meetings on
video. Did he ever show you any of these recordings?
Arabella remembered the disk of her having sex with Paris in the hotel.
She nodded her head negatively.
"Did he ever give you anything to watch for him? Any disks or
equipment?"
She wet her lips and answered in a small voice. "No."
A chill ran down her spine as he looked at her over the rim of his
tumbler. After staring at her for a few seconds, he finally spoke.
"Well Arabella. I believe you. For now." He smiled again. "Why don't
we make you more comfortable. You'll be my guest here for a while. Maybe
we can invite to stay with us as well?"
"I think I'll just look for on my own. Thanks anyway."
Arabella stood and moved for the door. She stopped when Felicia moved
to block the door. She whirled around when she heard Hooke's voice at her
elbow.
"I'm afraid that I must insist."
Arabella turned just before the Taser gun's shock hit her in the ribs
like a sledgehammer.
-=)0(= Groaning from the pain in her side, Arabella slowly regained
consciousness. The first thing she realized was that she was completely
naked. The second was that her wrists and ankles were chained to the
corners of a bed, spread eagling her on the rough mattress.
"Look who woke up." Hooke sneered as he pinched Arabella's nipple
cruelly between his thumb and forefinger.
Hooke looked down on his captive. A sense of power surged through him
as he surveyed her svelte, shackled form. Felicia sat naked on a stool
beside the bed. Her legs were primly crossed, her hands folded in her lap.
"No. Please. You don't need to do this," Arabella begged.
Hooke sat down on the bed next to Arabella. "The people I work for want
to ensure that you are incommunicado until the end of the month." He
stroked her and laughed as she flinched.
"And what then?" Her voice quavered.
He gave Arabella an evil smile. "I've been looking for another
playmate." Hooke looked meaningfully at Felicia. "I'll tell you a secret.
Felicia wants to taste your little strawberry cunt."
Felicia looked embarrassed but didn't say anything.
"Please. . . Please let me go. You don't have to keep me like this."
"I thought a cock slut like you'd enjoy something kinky."
Tracing her flanks with his fingertips, he stopped at the junction of
her thighs and toyed with the tufts of reddish brown curls that grew there.
"I'm. . .I'm not a slut."
"You ran off with Paris Mawbry. Left your friends. Left your lover for
another man. A you barely knew." Hooke's finger roughly parted her
labia. He ground his finger against her dry slit. "And from what I hear,
you liked your in groups." Looking up at Felicia he said, "Shave her."
Arabella flushed, unable to reply to the vulgar, but true, accusations
from her captor.
Hooke undressed slowly, enjoying the fear that radiated from Arabella's
prone body. Felicia scurried back to the bed, shaving gear in hand.
"Don't look so scared, my dear. With your reputation for chasing dick,
you'll fit right into our happy crew in no time at all."
Felicia looked up from her work. She had carefully shaved Arabella's
labia as smooth as a baby's bottom. "I'll look after her," she said to
Hooke.
"Yes. She'll make a fun playmate. Now clean her up. Let's see your
handiwork."
Felicia wiped the shaving cream from Arabella's crotch and proudly
petted the redhead's shorn pussy. Knowing what Hooke would want, Felicia
made a great show of feeling how smooth Arabella's outer lips were and
how wet the younger woman was after being shaved. Without waiting to be
told, Felicia bent down and licked around Arabella's pussy, nibbling and
sucking the redhead's fat lips into her mouth.
"Mmmm. She tastes sweet," Felicia purred.
Hooke's cock was hard and straight, standing out from his bushy pubes
like a flagpole. He took Felicia's head by the hair and directed her mouth
to his meat.
"Felicia's going to suck my cock and get it real wet for you, Red." He
slowly fucked Felicia's mouth, careful not get too excited and spoil
Arabella's initiation into his new harem. "And once she gets it slick and
wet, I'm gonna pound your until you bed me to full you with cum."
Hooke grew more and more excited as he described what he had planned for
Arabella. "So if you play nice, you'll get to stay with me. Safe and
sound. But if you cause problems, I'll shoot you full of DeSade and sell
you to a snuff porn studio as a meat puppet. The choice is yours."
Arabella felt like she was going to throw up but she didn't say
anything.
"This is your audition." His cock was and swollen, bobbing in time
with his pulse as it pointed at her wet snatch. "You do a good job and
I'll let you stay and play with us."
"Now spread her nice white lips," he told Felicia as he pulled her
mouth off of his prod.
Felicia spread Arabella's labia with her fingers and guided Hooke's cock
toward Arabella's dark pink love tunnel. He grasped his stalk at the base
and aimed its fat purple head at Arabella's pale, freshly shaven labia.
Hooke groaned as he prodded her vulva and spread her slick honey to ease
his entry.
"You." He grabbed Felicia by the hair and pushed her face against
Arabella's belly. "Make yourself useful and lick her while I see how tight
her little is."
Without any further preamble Hooke started pumping away, driving his
thick pole into Arabella. His cock grated against her sensitive vaginal
walls as he fucked her dry pussy.
Grimacing with pain, Arabella started to cry. "Please, Simon save me,"
she murmured.
Without missing a stroke, Hooke casually slapped her face. "Shut up,
bitch. You're not going anywhere." He thrust forward brutally and laughed
when she cried out. "Whores like you need to toughen up."
Tears blurred her vision as Hooke pumped away impersonally at her pussy.
Arabella realized how wrong she was to have spurned Simon, treating him
just the way she said that she didn't want to be treated. Being raped on a
ratty camp cot, she knew that Simon was her only hope.
Felicia teased Hooke's cock and Arabella's clit with her tongue, trying
to make Hooke quickly and end Arabella's ordeal. Despite Arabella's
revulsion, Felicia's persistent tongue swelled her sensitive clit and made
her juices flow. The rhythmic thrusting of Hooke's prick, filling
and stimulating the velvet walls of her love tunnel, soon had Arabella's
hips rising to meet his.
"I told you that she'd like it," Hooke sneered as he shifted his hands
to cup Arabella's buttocks.
He started to and pulled his cock out of her pussy. He thrust its
spurting head into Arabella's open mouth. "Here's your reward," he growled
through gritted teeth, as he decorated the redhead's lips and throat.
He climbed on to the bed and straddled Arabella's torso. His cock
rubbed against her cheek. "Now lick me clean." He stuffed his prick into
her mouth. "But if you bite me. Well, they say that DeSade makes you so
horny that you actually want pain. And I know a place where you'll get all
the pain you can handle. And then you'll die."
Once Arabella had cleaned the combination of her juices and his sperm
off of Hooke's shrinking cock, he threw himself into the chair next to the
bed. "OK Red. Now you've got to repay Felicia for all her hard work." He
pulled the chair close to the bedside. "Eat her until she cums."
Totally beaten, sore, and covered with sticky sex fluids, Arabella
sighed miserably. Felicia tenderly kissed Arabella on the lips.
"Everything's going to be alright, sweetheart," she said as she crawled
around to squat over Arabella's face, facing Hooke. Arabella, still
sobbing quietly, lifted her chin and submitted to his order.
As her tongue found Felicia's moist lips, Arabella heard Hooke mock her.
"I think you're getting into the spirit of things," he laughed and patted
her thigh. "And I think that Felicia will enjoy having you here as her
playmate."
Chapter 28: Looking for a Glass Slipper When Simon arrived in Staunton,
a customs guard, anonymous behind her helmet's black faceplate, checked his
Citizen Identification Card while her partner scanned his vehicle for
contraband and illegal weapons. Once clear of the checkpoints, Simon drove
through the small bustling town on his way home. He noticed the
surveillance cameras on the light poles and the wary looks people gave his
car. Parking his car in the driveway, he walked over to the neighborhood
warden and signed in.
The warden was a frumpy, self-important housewife who seemed to take an
instant dislike to Simon.
"Been gone a while, haven't you?"
Simon had never met this lady before and she was openly nosey.
"Military duty," he said smoothly. "Just got out of the Army
yesterday."
Seemingly satisfied, the heavyset woman became all business. "Here are
the rules. Read them over. You owe the Smith for keeping your yard
mowed while you were gone," she said as she ticked through a laundry list
of regulations.
Finally finished with the warden, he returned to his house, eager to
start preparing the place for home life once again. The house smelled
humid and musty, having been locked up for months in the depths of a
Virginia summer. Simon looked around sadly. All the plants were dead. A
fine coat of dust covered the kitchen counter. He slumped into a chair.
This wasn't the homecoming that he'd planned.
Simon called his office but Felicia didn't answer the phone. He sat for
a few minutes trying to think of whom to try to call next. The only person
he could think of was Granny. He grimaced at the thought of having to deal
with the "Earth Momma", as he called her when Arabella wasn't around, but
knew that Arabella would probably call if she had come home and
needed help. Whether he liked it or not, contacting Saffron was the most
logical next step.
After he'd straightened up the house and gone to the corner store for
dinner, Simon went to the rave club looking for Saffron. He had never felt
comfortable in the thundering dungeon of a club and had been secretly glad
when Arabella hadn't insisted on coming back there when they went out on
dates. His eyes scanned the crowd of writhing bodies, jerking and hopping
in the stop motion of the strobe lights.
After some searching, Simon found Saffron in a corner with a group and
tried to pull her into a side room to talk with her. The worn and stained
couch barely fit inside the closet sized room, but it was marginally
quieter than the bar area. Granny, dressed for the night in a flowery lace
bustier and a mini skirt, wasn't pleased to be dragged away from her
friends and sat down in a huff. She shouted at Simon and accused him of
treating Arabella like a runaway slave.
"I'm just trying to get her out of the mess you got her in when you
introduced her to your friend Paris," he retorted.
stuck out her bottom lip and pretended to sulk. "It was his
mysterious side that appealed to me," she explained with a shrug.
"You've got to help me find her."
threw herself against the back of the couch and pouted. "Why
should I help you? All you want to do is chain her to the stove while
you're out saving the world. She deserves better than to be somebody's
live in cook and bedwarmer."
Simon was shocked to silence by Saffron's sudden outburst. Before he
could think of a reply, she continued her tirade.
"Have you ever really thought about how you're going to treat her?
What's she going to do when you two settle down with you white picket
fences and wife's coffees? I bet that you're a once a week, missionary
position kind of guy."
"There's more to life than sex."
"That's the part of life that I choose to ignore."
Saffron waved down a waiter and ordered some drinks, giving Simon time
to reflect on his feelings toward Arabella and his plans for their life
together. His thoughts distracted him, blocking out the loud music and the
smell of tightly packed bodies and cigarette smoke. Seeing him lost in
thought, Saffron crawled across his lap and took his head into her hands.
Simon opened his eyes and saw that his field of vision was completely
occupied by Saffron's brown eyes. Satisfied that she had his attention,
Saffron unsnapped the topmost hooks of her lace bustier and exposed her
small brown tipped to his view.
"Relax." She drew his face into the valley between her tits.
"Stop thinking so hard. The answers will come to you."
She pressed her naked thighs against his lap. His hands reached around
her to cup her ass cheeks and hold her steady. Her skirt rode up and the
smell of her excited reached him. Saffron writhed and pressed her
snatch against the growing bulge in his pants.
"Now show me what keeps coming back to your bed," she sang in his
ear in a little voice.
Her hands tugged at his belt and then at his fly. She gripped his
engorged cock though his briefs, roughly jacking him off through his
underwear. While he a rock hard nipple into his mouth, his hands
grasped her firm ass cheeks and pulled her hips firmly against him.
"Give me your cock. Give it to me now." Her voice rasped against his
ear.
Simon strained to lift his hips and push his clothes away. Saffron
raised herself from his lap and helped his trousers and underwear slide
down to his knees. His cock sprang from its confinement and slapped her
thigh. Guiding his mouth back to her throbbing nipples, Saffron rubbed his
long cock against her furry slit. Her hips undulated against his
firm shaft, parting her engorged labia and smearing her copious juices
along the length of his cock.
Simon's eyes were screwed shut. His senses assaulted by the slick feel
of her and its musky, intoxicating scent. Her tasted warm and
salty. Her rubbery hard nipples swelled under his tongue. He felt her
hot, velvety envelope his manhood like an oily glove wrapping itself
around his fleshy spike. He gasped as Saffron tugged at his hair, riding
the length of his shaft as she impaled herself on him.
She grunted softly in his ear as she worked her way down his pole, "I
can feel you. Feel you me. Feel you all the way up to my stomach."
Simon felt her as well. The way her gripped and milked his cock;
the warmth of her juices leaking from her and spreading over his
balls. Her gyrations became more and more insistent as she slammed herself
down on his prick, wetly slapping against his lap.
His cock swelled until it felt as if it would explode. Simon threw his
head back, his mouth gaped open in a silent scream. His balls tightened
and unleashed a surge of hot sperm into Saffron's depths. As his fluid flooded her, she ground her ass against his lap.
"Christ. Fuck. Good," she babbled. "Close. Cum. Agh. Fuck."
He held her still and felt her convulse and flutter along his
entire shaft. A rivulet of sweat ran past his ear and onto his shoulder.
Saffron's raspy voice was loud in his ear as they both fought to catch
their breath.
Her teeth nipped his earlobe lightly, waking him from his reverie.
"That's my favorite way to relax."
She lifted herself off of his lap. His cock slid out of her to lie
wetly on his bar thigh.
"We'll definitely do this again," she said as she gave him a quick peck
on the cheek.
She tossed a slimy tissue at the trashcan in the corner.
"Just remember what I told you," she said from the door. "And thanks. I
hardly ever on the first try. You tell that I think you've got
potential."
"Saffron, do you know anyone who can help me find Arabella?"
"I haven't seen any of that crowd for months. They all left about the
same time did."
"Shit." Simon felt his hopes sink.
"You might try Hank. He lives out by Monterey. Got a quiet little
trailer off the main road. If he's there, he might know something."
"Draw me a map. I'll go up there tomorrow."
-=)0(= Simon drove along Route 250 West toward Monterey. His thoughts
centered on what Saffron had said about Arabella's fear of being neglected
while he worked. As he drove, a face hovered in front of his mind. The
face of a beautiful, bitter woman - one that had loved him and had later
tried to kill him to ease the that she'd gotten from a husband who had
chosen duty over love. Laura Buckley. He whispered her name aloud but it
was lost in the noise of the car's air conditioner. Her name and the
vision of Laura's sad face as she tried desperately to understand what her
husband had though was more important than their marriage consumed his
thoughts as he drove.
He was so preoccupied that he drove past his turn. He slammed his foot
on the break pedal and backed his car before parking on the shoulder and
crossing the road. A rusty chain chain stretched across the dirt track.
He walked along the muddy ruts that led to a small trailer beside a stream.
Simon was about to yell toward the trailer when he heard a rifle bolt slam
shut behind him.
"That's far enough." The speaker was a man, rather than younger,
with a voice made raspy from smoking.
"We know him Doc." The second voice was younger and had a heavier
Southern drawl. "He's Miss Airy-bella's feller."
"That doesn't mean that he's not here to kill us boy. Mister. Just put
your hands on that tree. RJ you stay on your side of him and search his
pockets."
Simon did as the voice bade him. "I've got a pistol in a shoulder
holster," he told them.
"I got it Doc." Simon recognized the as one of the that
had found Arabella when they had been at Swoope.
"Didn't you used to live around Swoope?" Simon tried to get the
voice with the rifle talking. No answer. "I'm trying to find Arabella.
She caught an earlier convoy and I haven't been able to find her."
"So why'd you come here?" The voice didn't change position so Simon
tried to twist around so that he could see the speaker. "I wouldn't move
if I were you," the voice warned.
"Look I was told that a guy named Hank lived here. He knew Arabella and
I wanted to ask him if he'd seen here. Are you Hank?"
"Turn around Mr. Woodsman." Simon turned to see a small with
a patch covering one eye. The gestured toward the trailer with his
rifle. "Hank's buried behind that big oak over there."
"I've got to find her." Simon pleaded with the man. "I've got to find
someone, anyone that can help me find her."
The looked at RJ and then at Simon. The muzzle of the rifle lowered
as he considered the state of things. "C'mon up to the trailer. We'll
tell you what we know."
Doc filled the hours until dinner with a confusing of corruption,
politics, and violence. Doc told Simon how he and his used to loot
armories and warehouses under the protection of a motley band crew of Army
deserters and bandits. Once the equipment and goods had been gathered up,
Doc would meet Bobby. The politician would pay him and tell him where to
take the trucks.
"It was easy money," the said. "Nuthin like stealing and
killing like other folks were doing."
Slowly, Simon pieced together the of how Bobby Tyler had played
everyone for his fool. Using people like Doc, Bobby had collected military
hardware and then, using government connections, he had sold weapons to the
highest bidder. In this case, the rebel Shoremen.
Simon gulped his drink and felt the cheap whiskey burn its way down his
throat. Arabella was dead the minute Bobby's goons find her, he thought.
Even if she doesn't know anything about how the weapons got to the
Shoremen, she was proof that the rebels traveled freely throughout the
state at the height of the rebellion.
Doc finished the story, a distant look on his face as he looked out the
window. "Once Bobby had what he wanted, he started to clean up the loose
ends." Doc tapped his eye patch. "Lost this in a little ambush outside
Elkton. Same that used to ride shotgun with us pulled the ambush.
Bel, Marcellus, all the boys. Dead." Doc took a large of his
drink, a tear rolled down his cheek from under the eye patch. "Just me and
RJ made it out."
Composing himself, Doc said, "There are no hard feelings. It was just
business."
-=) 0 (=
Just thirty miles away as the crow flew; Felicia and Hooke came to visit
their guest. Arabella watched warily from the bed as Felicia popped two
little brown capsules into her mouth.
"Want some? It's Sin."
Arabella recognized the name of one of Granny's favorite club drugs. A
powerful aphrodisiac. "No thanks."
"Try one Red," Hooke said as he threw himself into a chair. "We're
celebrating."
Arabella rolled on to her side and tucked her knees under her chin.
"What are you celebrating?"
"Heh, heh. Part of my job is soliciting donations for the cause. Today
the mayor of the fair city of Waynesboro made a generous contribution. One
that my employer will be most appreciative of."
Arabella felt herself start to get angry. "All that means is that
you're a crook. You lie and steal and extort money from people."
"Only people that lied and cheated and stole to get the money in the
first place," he said, mocking her. "And to celebrate, you're going to
help fulfill one of Felicia's deep dark fantasies."
The woman blushed furiously as she stood next to the bed.
Felicia reached into her big shoulder bag and pulled out a leather harness
and a 12 inch tan dildo. Without saying a word, she undressed.
"Arabella. I want to play." Felicia obscenely stroked her latex cock as
she crawled on to the bed. "I want to fuck you."
A flush crept up Felicia's neck as the drugs that she'd swallowed
started to take effect. Hooke pulled up a chair to watch while Felicia
lengthened Arabella's chains.
Arabella sobbed and asked, "Why are you doing this to me?"
Felicia stroked Arabella's hair. "Sweetie, in this life you've got to
choose sides or get caught in the middle. I've had nothing and I'm not
going back there again."
"But Simon would have taken care of you."
Felicia, the high powered aphrodisiac racing through her system, kissed
Arabella softly and cupped the redhead's smooth shaven mound.
"In this game, Simon's just a pawn like you and me. It's people like
Bobby Tyler that are making the real moves."
Felicia had a sad look on her face as she sat astride Arabella's face.
"Let's not talk about anything like that." The woman reached between
her legs and held her lips apart. "Now be a good and eat me."
-=) 0 (=
While talking with Doc, Simon recognized that Bobby was the real enemy.
Bobby Tyler was a who had twisted the system and become more powerful
with each turn he took.
"But Doc," Simon asked, "how come, if you know so much, Bobby's
left you alive?"
Doc put down his drink; a wry smile wrinkled his cheek. "For starters,
he can't find us. We came up here to find Hank and ended up burying him.
Figured we'd stay 'cause lighting don't strike twice and all that."
"That's it?" Simon was suspicious. Doc seemed to be a lot smarter than
what he was putting on.
"That's it. The world's a big place to hide as long as you stay quiet
and don't make yourself a target. There's been a guy running around town
asking questions, but we don't get into town much. Do we RJ?" Doc swirled
the ice in his drink, laughing silently.
"Mr. Woodsman, if I thought I could pull it off, I'd show the world
what Mr. Bobby Tyler really was." Doc saw the puzzled look on Simon's
face. "RJ. Pour the another drink. We're going to watch a movie."
Doc placed a disk in the small player. Settling back into his
chair, he used a remote control to start the movie. The was grainy
and full of shadows but it was damning enough to put a death sentence on
Bobby Tyler's head. The politician was easily identifiable, his trademark
smile firmly fixed on his face, as he made deals for special military
hardware.
"But Doc, I don't understand what Tyler got out of all this?" Simon
started the over at the beginning. "How were the rebels paying him?
Anti-tank missiles for corn and sweet potatoes?"
Doc laughed and settled into his chair as if preparing to explain a
simple fact to a child. "Bobby just wanted everyone's attention somewhere
else while he built up his organization. Then, once he was ready, he
jumped into the ring and made himself the peacemaker. He was going to
negotiate a settlement with the rebels, win himself a Peace Prize, be the
main and all that shit. He'd a pulled it off too, but your General
Manlius got trigger happy and stole the show."
"But the in the video. . ."
"The tall one was Paris Mawbry. The was his father." Doc
shook his head sadly. "They were idealists. They thought Bobby would help
them. I don't think they realized that they were being used until the very
end."
"And now what?"
"They're dead and we hide like animals." Doc froze the on the
screen. It was Bobby smoking a cigar and talking. "He's got the world by
the balls and he knows it. In two weeks that little will be
Virginia's next senator."
"Unless someone sees these disks."
Doc's laugh sounded more like a cough. "And who's going to show them?
The media's controlled by the government. The government's controlled by
Tyler. Haven't you been listening? The has built an organization
specifically to protect himself from this kind of shit. You, me, RJ.
Shit, we wouldn't last a day if we started letting folks know about these
disks."
"But Doc." An idea started to gel in Simon's mind. He put down his
drink and smiled broadly. "Doc, there's one that can bring Bobby
down."
"Who's that?"
"Major General Arthur Manlius. He's got Article 9. And he hates Bobby
just as much as we do."
Simon paused to enjoy the shocked look on Doc's face slowly change to a
smile as the realization of what Simon was proposing sank into the
professor's face.
"RJ, pour the another drink. Now Mr. Woodsman, how do we get these
disks to your friend the General?"
-=) 0 (= Full of hope, Simon returned home after his meeting with Doc
and RJ. Doc had been eager to help strike back at Bobby Tyler, but had
insisted on keeping a copy of the disks for his "own piece of mind." Doc
had agreed to meet him in the Greenville Market, the Freezone trading
outside the city limits, and deliver the disks.
The next day Simon passed through the checkpoint and wandered the market
admiring the stalls that lined the mall. He was standing in front of a
tailor shop when he felt a light touch on his elbow. It was Felicia.
"I'm glad I caught up with you," she said, her eyes constantly watching
the crowd.
"How did you know I was here?"
"I'm friendly with some of the guards. They let me know when you passed
through the checkpoint." She glanced around and steered him through the
flow of people in the narrow lane. "Come with me. I can take you to
Arabella."
"What? Where is she?" His heart raced at the prospect of finally
finding his girlfriend.
"She's safe. She's with some friends at place outside of town. We can
go there now."
Simon looked around for Doc. He needed those disks but he couldn't risk
missing the chance to find Arabella. Spotting RJ through the crowd, Simon
thought quickly.
"Felicia, meet me at the south entrance in five minutes."
She nodded her head and disappeared into the crowd. Simon slid through
the knots of people toward where he'd seen RJ. He looked around and
finally spotted Doc sitting at a small cafe table.
"Good to see you made it." Doc seemed to be in high spirits. A wry
smile made his eyes twinkle.
"I don't have a lot of time. I've just found someone who can take me to
Arabella."
Doc slid the disks, wrapped in a envelope, under the table. "Then
this is goodbye and good luck," the said.
Without another word, Simon stood and headed toward the south entrance
and his rendezvous with Felicia. He didn't notice Doc's signal and the
shadow that detached itself from a nearby stall and followed him through
the crowd.
Once Simon reached the exit, Felicia swooped toward him and quickly
dragged him into the parking lot. Simon was surprised when they stopped at
an expensive, shiny sedan. The driver, a well built in an expensive
suit and mirrored sunglasses, smiled as they got into the car.
Felicia made the introductions. "Simon, this is Hooke."
The shook hands as Hooke piloted the sedan out of the market and on
to the highway headed east.
"Arabella talks a lot about you," Hooke said, starting the conversation
as the countryside sailed by the window. "The two of you seem to have a
bright future around here after the Troubles die down."
"Yeah," Simon said noncommittally.
Simon hadn't expected Felicia to be involved with anyone, much less
someone who looked as much like a mobster as Hooke. Hooke noticed Simon
eyeing him.
"I was wondering if we could team up," Hooke offered. "I was thinking
about an arrangement. You in the office. Me in the field."
"What are you working on now?" Simon was intrigued by Hooke's offer but
wanted to see where the was leading before agreeing to anything.
"Let's just say that I'm working for a mutual acquaintance. After the
election, I'll be in a position to work with an organization that will be
running things."
"So why do you need me?"
"Times are coming when a will need more than a fast gun. Arabella
and Felicia tell me that you are good with people."
"And you need this?"
Hooke smiled, showing his even white teeth. "My methods are a bit more
direct, shall we say. But I recognize the need for other, more subtle
means as well."
Simon glanced into the backseat and noted the odd, anxious, expression
on Felicia's face.
"What sort of office job did you have in mind?"
Hooke gave an arrogant half-smile. "Oh. I'll do the scouting and the
field work. You'll meet all the right people. Go to parties. Smooth the
political paths, as it were."
"Sounds easy." Simon noticed that they were turning on to a small
country road and heading into the forest.
"It will be for you. They say that you're a natural at this sort of
thing."
"Well I don't want to disappoint you. I'll have to talk it over with
Arabella," Simon said, trying to stall for time.
Hooke slowed and drove the expensive car on to a gravel road. "Well
that will be easy. We're almost there."
Hooke stopped the car in front of a small hunting cabin. "Think about
my offer."
Felicia led the way inside the small log cabin, disappearing into a side
room as soon as they entered.
Hooke played host. "Have a seat. Please pardon the Spartan setting.
We'll be moving to better surroundings soon."
"We?"
"You see, I've been sent here to find some things that might be
considered embarrassing for my employer."
Hooke opened the side room door with a flourish. There was Arabella.
She knelt submissively on the floor, half naked, her hands manacled behind
her. Felicia stood behind her looking uncomfortable and embarrassed.
"What the fuck!"
Hooke stood as still as a statue, indifference chiseled on his face.
"Just business, I assure you." He gestured for Felicia to bring their
captive into the room. "Now calm yourself Mr. Woodsman."
Simon took a step back toward the center of the room as Felicia led
Arabella out of the bedroom. He swept his shackled lover into his arms.
"Why are you doing this to her?"
"I thought that I had lost you again." She buried her face in his neck
and sobbed.
"Touching. Really touching." Hooke's sarcasm dripped like acid. "Now
why don't we postpone the reunion and get back to business."
"Simon! He's a murderer and a crook. He made me. . ."
"Enjoy myself?" Hooke finished. "Yes Simon, we've been having quite a
bit of fun here. I think that the have been getting along
splendidly."
Hooke moved back to the table. "Like I told you. Just business. It'll
be over in a few days. Bringing you here was my idea." Hooke's smile
reminded Simon of a shark moving in for the kill. "My offer's still open.
She's part of another deal but, if you accept my offer, we might be able to
come to an arrangement."
Simon's temper over rode his judgment and he reached for his shoulder
holster.
"That's enough," Hooke said.
Hooke's laser sight painted an eerie dot on Simon's chest. Simon
slowly withdrew his hand from his jacket. The dot didn't waiver from
Simon's heart.
Simon dropped his hand to his side, still holding Arabella against him.
He looked toward Felicia, who was cowering in the corner. "And what part
do you play in all this?"
Hooke answered for her. "She's a foot soldier, just like me. She's
doing what she has to. You want me to show you what she's best at?"
Simon looked from the black muzzle of the pistol to the arrogant sneer
on Hooke's face. "And what next?"
"My orders are to keep the redhead alive. You weren't mentioned. That
makes you extraneous to my mission."
"Has anyone ever called you psychotic?"
"Not twice."
Simon took a deep breath and steeled himself for the thunderclap from
the pistol. Time froze until the window behind Hooke shattered. Before
any of them could move, a blinding flash exploded in the room and the front
door flew open.
Hooke, his reflexes honed through years of combat, threw himself at the
first intruder as he came through the door. He knocked the slim backwards but this only made him easy prey for the second intruder, who
rapped Hooke smartly on the head with a sap.
As Simon picked himself off the floor, he recognized Doc's bemused tone.
"Don't be laying around, this one's got a hard head."
Doc placed the muzzle of his rifle against the unconscious gangster's
head.
"No Doc. There's been enough killing," Simon said as he pushed RJ
toward the door and the clear sunlight. "We can't start a new life if
we're running from a murder charge."
Doc grinned as he kicked Hooke's limp body away from the door. "I think
you're making a mistake, but it's your funeral."
Simon and Arabella dashed through the open door and dove into Doc's panel van. Doc floored the accelerator and sent the van down the rough
track like a rocket. They skidded on to the highway's pavement and raced
toward town.
"What happened to Felicia?" Arabella asked. They had all momentarily
forgotten about the secretary and her betrayal.
"We'll settle with her later," said Simon. "Right now we've got to get
you out of this bondage get-up."
Arabella quickly told Simon about Hooke and Felicia, their involvement
with Bobby Tyler, and the hopelessness that she had felt during her
captivity in the small cabin. Simon's jaws tightened as he listened to her
tell him about Hooke's twisted games.
Simon stared out of his window as Doc drove them toward town, his
stomach sour as he saw Bobby's election posters staked in people's front
yards. There wasn't much time left. The only bright part of the day was
that Doc, ever suspicious, had followed Simon to the cabin. Simon patted
the lump that the disks made in his jacket.
At the Freezone, Simon hid Arabella in the trunk and bid Doc and RJ
farewell. Traffic through the checkpoints was light and none of the guards
bothered to search his car as Simon re-entered the town. He drummed his
fingers on the steering wheel, his mind turning over the problem of the
disks. Entering the town's small downtown area, Simon turned down a small
side street and parked. Checking his pistol, he made sure that he was
alone in the street before ringing the a doorbell.
A few seconds later, a slender answered the door. Simon
exchanged a few words with her before returning to the trunk and helping
Arabella to the door, still wrapped in a blanket from the trunk. Together
they stumbled wearily up the stairs to the landing and pushed open the door
their guide had gone through.
Arabella, her eyes from crying, looked at the long legged who
answered the apartment's door.
"Jules. You don't know how good it is to see you again." Arabella's
shoulders dropped as she relaxed.
Juliet, dressed in a T-shirt and cutoffs, embraced Arabella like a long
lost sister. Pushing the blanket on to the floor, Juliet looked over the
leather and chain manacles that restrained Arabella's hands behind her
back.
"A little kinky for you two, isn't it?"
Simon's face soured. "I didn't do this. Some guy named Hooke kidnapped
her. Felicia helped him and he. . . he. . ."
Juliet's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. "Hooke?" She led them
into the room and called for her thin brown-haired assistant. "Dee, bring
me my toolkit." She helped Arabella to a chair. "Simon. Get a hold of
yourself and tell me what happened."
Dee delivered the small leather case to Juliet and then handed Simon a
drink. He looked at the tumbler but it sat untouched in his hand as the
story of Arabella's rescue spilled out. While he talked, Juliet used a set
of small lockpicks to remove Arabella's shackles.
"And you left Hooke alive in the cabin?"
Simon's head drooped. He took a long of his drink. "Yes."
Juliet tossed the leather harness on to the floor and shook her head.
"Now that's a unique twist." She looked closely at Simon. "Hooke's way out
of your league Cinderella. He won't give up and he won't go away. You
might want to think about taking a vacation. Someplace far, far away."
"Well before I go getting tickets, I've got one more favor to ask." He
pulled the envelope out of his jacket pocket and weighed it in his
hand. "Do you think that you can get this to Major General Manlius'
headquarters?"
"You starting some kind of club?"
"It's evidence. For the military tribunal."
Juliet's eyebrows made a peak in her tanned forehead. "I'm down with
that," she said as she took the package and tossed it to Dee. Looking back
at Simon she said, "You just take care of Arabella. I'll give you a call
when your package gets delivered."
Hugging Arabella tightly, Juliet smiled. "And the next time you show up
on my doorstep wearing nothing but a thong you won't be leaving so
quickly."
Arabella smiled, thankful for the humor in the middle of this dark hour.
Simon shook hands with Juliet and then helped Arabella down the stairs. He
still hadn't spoken when they reached the car and started for home.
"Simon, what will we do now?" The thought of Hooke hunting them scared
Arabella to the core.
"We'll go home, pack some clothes, and try and plan our next move."
-=)0(= Once inside their house, Simon muttered something about scraping
together dinner and disappeared toward the kitchen. Arabella announced
that she was going to take a long, hot shower. She carefully folded the
sweat suit that Juliet had lent her. Naked, she examined herself in the
bathroom mirror. Her wrists and ankles were still raw and angry from the
chafing cuffs, but otherwise there weren't any last marks of her
confinement. She was about to step into the shower when she heard a loud
crash from the kitchen.
Without a moment's hesitation, she went to the closet and grabbed the
shotgun Simon kept there. Still naked, she ran into the hallway and saw a
large standing over Simon, a long barreled pistol in his hand.
Arabella's knuckles whitened as they gripped the shotgun's pump. She
jacked a round into the chamber, spreading her feet and bringing the weapon
to her shoulder just as Simon had taught her.
Hooke heard the metallic sound and moved. The hallway filled with noise
but he had ducked and spun to face the small redhead and the cavernous maw
of the 12 gauge she carried. The shotgun's slug creased his scalp,
knocking him unconscious instead of killing him.
Arabella forgot about Hooke and ran to Simon's prostrate form. Dropping
the shotgun at her feet, she cried and held him to her naked breast.
"Please. Please don't leave me. Not now. Not now."
She rocked back and forth as she sobbed in near hysteria. Bending down
she kissed him on the mouth, her tears falling on his face.
Simon, his head still ringing from Hooke's blow, slowly cracked open one
eye. "Shhh. I'm not going anywhere. I just got home. Now let me
breathe."
-=)0(= After the police had come and collected Hooke, Simon and Arabella
looked wearily at each other.
"It's been a hell of a homecoming," said Simon. He threw the ice bag
that he'd been holding on his head into the sink.
Arabella gave him a sly smirk and toyed with her bathrobe's belt. "You
know, since you've gone through all this trouble. I mean, rescuing me
three times and all. I guess I'd better just stay close to you from now
on, so you won't have to find me again."
She kissed the bump on the side of Simon's head. "Well I'm finally
going to get that shower. Do you think that I could interest you in
scrubbing my back?"
-=)0(= Arabella groaned with contentment. The hot water sprayed against
her front. Her lover stood behind her, his turgid cock resting in the
soapy crack of her ass as he slowly scrubbed her shoulders.
Simon slid his hands down to cup her pert breasts.
She looked over her shoulder at him. "Penny for your thoughts."
"I was just thinking of the conversation I had with Saffron. She asked
me some questions and I'm still looking for the answers."
Arabella turned around and pressed herself against his body. "I'll
wait. Right now, I just want to make myself feel at home."
Simon sank to his knees with a smile. "Let me help you with that," he
said just before he ran his tongue around the rim of her belly button.
She rewarded him with a throaty gasp and he drove his tongue down to the
top of her smooth shaven slit. Arabella's hips jerked slightly as his
mouth hard on her sensitive clit but she was clutching at his head
within minutes as he her inner labia into his mouth. She cried out
his name when Simon aggressively thrust his tongue along the length of her
slit, plowing a furrow through her juicy sex.
"God, I love it when you eat me," she gasped.
Arabella held his head by the hair and made sure that his mouth never
lost contact with her throbbing cunt. She felt her belly tighten and
flutter when her lover tickled her with his thumb, his digit smearing
her honey around the rim of her love tunnel. She cocked a leg over his
shoulder, opening her wider for his attention.
Simon fucked her with his thumb; short strokes punctuated by wide
circular motions that tickled the sensitive spots along the edges of her
hole. While his hand worked on her insides, his mouth roamed over her
snatch, careful to avoid over stimulating her clit and bring her to her
climax too soon.
Arabella recognized what he was doing and tried to push her swollen
nubbin toward his mouth but he only laughed at her from his vantage point
below her belly.
"You're teasing me," she said though clenched teeth.
Using his tongue, Simon slowly drew a circle around her throbbing clit,
teasing it from its hood, before answering. "You're right."
"Stop. I want to feel you inside of me."
Arabella moved her leg from his shoulder and held his head away from her
excited twat. She turned to face the wall, bracing herself against the wet
tile wall. She arched her back and spread her legs, presenting her sex to
him like a in heat.
Rather than answer her needs immediately, Simon remained on his knees at
eye level with her cunt. He extended his tongue and rimmed her pussy,
dipping deeply inside her to relish her oily honey. Holding her slender
hips, Simon ran his tongue from her hot love gate to the valley between her
firm ass cheeks. Arabella shivered when he kissed the spot between her
pussy and her asshole. Her legs almost gave out when his tongue flicked
across her vulnerable, puckered asshole and she groaned.
"Fuck me. Fuck me now. Stop teasing me," she said as she shook her ass
free of his probing tongue.
Simon felt the power trip that every feels when his lover begs for
him to fuck her and make her his woman. He gripped his tool and placed his
engorged helmet against her ready opening. He ran the plum colored glans
tantalizingly around her labia, spiraling his cock inside her until the
head was completely encased in the mouth of her soft tunnel.
He held himself still and pulled her hips to his cock. His hands
stopped her from throwing herself onto him as he slowly impaled her with
his steel hard eight inch cock. The shower beat down on his chest like a
monsoon rain but his senses were consumed by the feeling of his throbbing
manhood driving up her silken shaft at a snail's pace. He felt her body
flutter and clutch at his pole as he finally reached his goal and his balls
nestled against her wet mons.
Arabella sighed as she felt him fill her secret cave. The tip of his
cock pressed against her cervix, stretching her in delightful ways
that no one else could. She bit her bottom lip and pressed her hips back,
urging him to fuck her harder.
Simon knew what she wanted and, as his balls began to swell and churn,
he knew that he wanted it as well. He spread his feet apart for balance
and slightly bent his knees as he set a slow, long pace. His cock ran its
entire length with each cycle, exiting until only the tip remained inside
her before reversing course and sliding back toward her womb.
His measured tempo didn't last for long because his own climax urged him
on. Simon's jaw tightened as he breathed though clenched teeth and drilled
his cock into his lover's depths faster and faster. Although he still let
her feel the entire length of his cock with each stroke, his hips moved
like a jackhammer. He pushed his cock forward as he pulled Arabella's
pussy toward him, slamming their bodies together under the hot spray.
As his climax grew, his body stiffened and his strokes shortened until
his strokes became quick, stabbing thrusts. Simon roared as his balls
spewed their creamy payload deep inside Arabella's depths. Simon felt as
if his body was exploding through the tip of his cock; his soul draining
into his lover's body along with his passion. He clasped her hips tightly
as he planted his cock in her hilt deep.
Arabella, feeling her body being flooded by the spurts of his hot cum,
pressed her face against the cool tiles and surrendered to her own climax.
Her knees weakened as the orgasmic waves of pleasure rolled and crashed
through her. Her became hypersensitive and she felt every ridge and
vein in his cock as it throbbed and jerked inside her.
Their strength ebbing, both Simon and Arabella sank to the shower floor,
the water still running over them like a tropical rain. Reluctantly Simon
pulled his cock free from Arabella's and helped her sit beside him as
they gasped for breath. No words were spoken because none were needed in
those moments when they held each other. Now they were truly at home.
Chapter 29: Bobby's End By lunchtime the next day, Juliet's cocky,
teasing voice called and gave him the good news. "The General loved your
flicks. You've got about 45 minutes before the Public Guard moves in and
arrests Tyler, sport."
Simon used the phone number Juliet gave him to call Bobby.
Bobby looked annoyed when he saw Simon's face on the small terminal.
"What do you want? I'm very busy, Major Woodsman."
"Check your telefax." Simon smiled as he saw Bobby pale as the
politician took the faxed copy of the arrest warrant and read it.
"This won't last," Bobby looked like a trapped animal. "They don't have
any evidence against me."
"I gave them of you and Paris Mawbry. I gave them signed
testaments from people that ran guns for you to the rebels. You'll be
lucky if they ever let you out of prison."
"Forgeries. Doctored video."
Bobby licked his lips and sat behind his big desk, his eyes darting back
and forth. Even on the small screen, Simon could see that Bobby had
started to perspire.
Bobby fidgeted in his chair. "But if this evidence does exist, I am in
a position to pay handsomely for it."
Simon was disappointed. He had thought that it would feel exhilarating
to confront Bobby. Instead it made him feel dirty. Simon checked his
watch.
"I figure that you've got about 15 minutes before the PG get there."
Bobby voice turned to pleading. "I've got influential friends. People
that will even the score if I go to jail."
Simon heard a loud knock on Bobby's office door. Bobby reached into a
drawer. A feeling of pity filled Simon but he knew that the drama was
over.
Simon shook off his emotions and steeled himself to finish what he'd
started. "Here's the deal. You can either pull the pistol from your desk
and shoot yourself or take your chances with the Public Guard. What's it
going to be?"
Without speaking Bobby sank into his chair, his face wooden and his eyes
staring off into the distance.
Simon shook his head sadly. "I didn't think you had the guts."
Simon heard the office door open. Three armored police troopers entered
the room and fanned out quickly, their weapons leveled at Bobby's chest.
When their leader spoke, his voice sounded metallic through his helmet's
audio system.
"Robert Tyler. We have a warrant for your arrest."
After the police had led Bobby away, Simon left his home and drove
through the town toward the FEMA building. The media had converged on
Bobby like vultures on a carcass. As the feeding frenzy built, the
reporters scrambled for sound bites while the network analysts dissected
Bobby's every career decision. The scene of the slender politician, his
hands cuffed behind him, being helped into the back of the police cruiser
was played and replayed on every station.
Simon parked in front of the FEMA building and looked up at his office
window. Entering the building, his feet felt leaden as he walked off the
elevator. Felicia stood in the office foyer flanked by a hulking pair of
policemen. Stifling her tears, Felicia looked into his eyes with a silent
plea.
"Why did you betray me?" Simon's voice was choked with emotion.
Felicia, her handbag clenched in front of her, stood and shook her head.
"I don't know."
Simon, sick of killing, just wanted peace. "You'll go to Richmond with
your employer." Felicia winced at that word. Simon struggled to find the
words to say what he felt but was cut short as the troopers, impatient to
finish their job, hustled Felicia on to the elevator.
-=)0(= Bobby and Felicia waited for their plane; a police escort stood
ominous and silent next to them. Felicia looked trapped, like a lab rat in
a cage. Sitting next to her, Bobby flipped through his organizer,
seemingly unconcerned. His stylus tapped against the plastic screen as he
plotted his next move; his plans to bring himself back into power despite
the threat of the disks.
Felicia trembled in her seat. "But what's going to happen, Mr. Tyler?"
she whimpered, nearing hysteria at the thought of being thrown back out on
the streets or put into prison.
Slapping the organizer's cover shut, Bobby looked annoyed. "I'm not
finished yet. People still owe me favors. I'll put some deals together.
They'll see." He turned to face Felicia. "We may have to grunge for a few
months while things gel but. . ."
"I can't. I can't go back to the camps."
"Dear, I'm sure you're used to surviving. The only difference between
where you're coming from and where you're going is that you won't be
fucking over a desk." He laughed bitterly at his own joke.
Bobby's last comment snapped something inside Felicia. She had a
far-off, stunned look on her face but Bobby was through baiting her and had
turned back to his own thoughts. Her bag slid from her lap and, before
anyone could think to restrain her, Felicia grabbed the policeman's sidearm
from his holster and pushed him out of the way with adrenaline charged
strength.
Her first two shots sprayed Bobby's brains all over the waiting area's
wall. His body slumped like a sack of potatoes in the cheap vinyl chair,
his face no longer ready.
Felicia spun back toward the police escort and placed the muzzle of the
heavy pistol against her temple.
"Just put it down miss. We can talk this through." The stunned
policeman tried to calm her down.
"I think it's time for me to leave, Felicia said with a sad smile on her
face.
The shattering report of the .50 caliber pistol mingled her brain tissue
with Bobby's on the wall.
Chapter 30: Happily Ever After "Simon. Look at this."
Simon looked up from his section of the newspaper to see what Arabella
was reading. He'd been trying to hide from the incessant barrage of news
reports on Bobby Tyler and had been looking for some sports scores.
"What?"
"Bobby Tyler got shot."
"Sounds like the government getting rid of an embarrassment. They
couldn't really put him on trial, could they?" Simon took a sip of his
coffee. "And admit that the world went to hell? Shit. Wouldn't go well
in between the soap operas and the talk shows."
She handed him the newspaper section. "No," Arabella sounded somber.
"Read the rest of this."
Arabella watched her lover over the rim of her coffee mug. "So what is
next? I thought things would be getting better."
Simon put the paper down and studied her with a thoughtful look. He set
his jaw and cleared his throat before sliding from his chair to kneel in
front of her chair.
"It will get better when we make it better. I know you were hesitant
before, but you need to know that I've decided to spend the rest of my life
with you."
Tears welled in Arabella's eyes. Her stomach knotted and she felt a
lump in her throat as she realized what Simon was saying.
"Arabella. Will you be my wife?"
"But. But. But what about all that's happened? All the problems we've
had?"
"I know that you're the one I want to marry because of what has
happened."
Arabella took a deep breath and looked into Simon's eyes. "Yes. I
don't know why I hesitated before. The answer has always been yes."
They leaned forward and kissed; softly, passionately, as only people in
true love can.
Finis
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