[Disclaimer: The following depicts adult situations, sexual intercourse, and depravity on a massive scale. You must be of legal age to continue (18+) and it must be legal in your area for you to do so. Consider that this is a work of fiction in progress and that nothing you read - although possibly based heavily from true life experiences - is in any way a true account. Again, this is FICTION. None of the characters are meant to resemble persons either alive or dead, famous or infamous, and you should under no circumstance try any of this at home. This is my original work and I would appreciate any feedback you might have for me. Send that to metonym@gmail.com and please include which story/series/chapter you're refering to in your e-mail. Anyway, I think that about covers the basics and my ass. So, let's get on with it, shall we? -J. Kingsgrave]
[One more thing. I don't know where this story is going to end up but I do know where it's basically headed. Expect elements of Authoritarian, Urination, Masterbation, Encounters, Military, and even SciFi Fantasy. This is going to get nasty in the best ways. Since I'm not set in plotline or direction, feel free to send me any suggestions or requests. I make no promises, but I'll considerate your input. Send it to metonym@gmail.com.]
I leave my entourage in the lobby and head for the elevator bank. The notable one, the one I had a little fun with back at my apartment before he confirmed himself and we had to stop, tags along with me like a lost little dog. I glare at him as I press the button. "What... the fuck... are you doing?"
"Going with. You need back-up." I laugh. I don't even have to force myself to chuckle contemptuously. I am genuinely laughing at such an absurd statement. "I can help you. I can be useful." I stop laughing.
"They want you to keep your eyes on me at all times, don't they? Report back. Keep me on a leash, so to speak." I twirl the leash I'm wearing and bring it down with a crack against the side of my left boot, the one nearest to him. He jerks a bit and then realizes I haven't struck him. "Unfortunate, but not unexpected. Well, then. You will act in the place of my pimp. You're too fidgety for a thug and too conservatively dressed to be anything else. An accountant, maybe." I add looking him over again. At least he has very expensive taste, I can give him that much.
"An accountant with mob ties?"
"Don't push it." We enter the lift and I select the number 10. The doors close. We stare at each other through the polished metal. "Are you packing?" He opens his jacket to show me the piece in this shoulder holster. "Nice piece." I say pressing the emergency stop button. The alarm goes off. I open the box for the emergency phone, reach up behind the elevator control panel, and with a quick yank sever the appropriate wire. The alarm stops. I turn around. "Can I touch your piece?" He grins and nods. I pull open his suit jacket and firmly cup the crotch of his slacks with my left hand and grope it savagely. He grunts and pulls away, but my grip is firm and unyielding.
"What about the mission?"
"It can wait. I can't." I grip the back of his neck with my right hand and pull him into my kiss. When I feel his tongue cross my lips I yank his head back by his short black hair. I bite his neck viciously and crush his balls in my fist. He groans and cries and we both go falling back against the back wall of the elevator with a shared grunt and thud.
"Oh yeah. That's it. Make it hurt. I want you to own me. Make me your bitch."
"I accept your offer and expect you to act accordingly." I let go of the back of his head and balls and let my hands meet in the center of his chest. I rip his shirt open. Buttons fly. I chuckle and he grins. He's just barely hairy. A small patch in the center of his pecks and then a trail that disappears when it reaches his belt line. I suck at his nips, first searching my way through his clothing and around the dangling tie, and then sucking them madly. He quickly tries to undress himself. He shrugs off his jacket and loses the pistol harness with a loud clunk on the floor of the suspended elevator. I reach behind his back and take a handful of shirt in both hands pulling violently outward in opposite directions and splitting it down the back. It falls aways limp and I stop to admire his upper body. He pulls his hands free of his sleeves and the tattered shirt falls onto the floor.
"You like?" He asks with a grin when he sees me admiring him. This, as he is about to learn, was the wrong thing to ask. As it turns out, anything at all is the wrong thing to ask. I take him by the throat.
"Who said you could speak?" His eyes go wide and his cock twitches. "Answer me when I ask you a question, you maggot fuck. WHO said YOU could SPEAK?"
"No one." I tighten my grip.
"What was that?"
"OOooOOoo uUuuUUunnn. EEEeeeeettth." < meaning: No one. Please. >
"No one what? No one motherfucker? No one douchebag? No one asshole?"
"OOooooOO uuUUunnnN, EEEERRR!" < meaning: No one, Sir. > I release my grip. He inhales deeply and quickly. Gasping for air, as they say. His face is still burning red.
"That's more like it. Turn around." He obeys. I reach around him and undo his belt and whip it out of the loops. "Place your hands on the wall." I whisper into his ear. I double the leather belt over in my hands and smack them loudly against my open palm. "Wider apart." He obeys but it's a little late for courtesy. I step away and swing my right arm down in a broad sweeping motion. The belt falls across his back with a loud smack and brings a yelp from him and a shudder which starts at his feet and flows all the way up before erupting and drifting out to his hands. I whip him again, but this time I do it proper. Just a flick of the wrist and the belt licks him sideways across the width of his back. There's a red cross welting there now. "Repeat after me." I say and whip him again. "I will not speak unless permitted to do so." I wait.
"I will not speak unless permitted to do so." I slap the belt in my hand. He jumps a little anyway.
"I will answer a direct question without having to be asked to do so." He repeats it. I sigh. "I will end every statement or answer with 'SIR'." He repeats and adds 'Sir' at the end like a good boy. "Remove your pants." He slowly removes his hands from the wall and unzips his fly and lets the slacks fall off his body. He's not wearing any underwear. I whip his ass. He yelps again. I look over his shoulder and down at his cock. "Well, well. Looks like someone enjoys being punished and humiliated. A little too much, perhaps." I reach into my jacket pocket. "Now, interlock your hands around that." I point with my free hand and he follows my gaze with a frown. All the way around the three inner walls of the lift is a hand rail. It is welded into the walls in three places on each side of the elevator and juts out just far enough for him to squeeze one hand behind. He clasps his hands together when he does so and looks at me. I remove the cuffs from my pocket and lock him in place. I reach over and press the number 7 and release the emergency brake. We begin to climb again. He looks half crazy with worry. He should. The door opens. The hallway is empty. I pick up his shoulder harness and deposit it in the garbage can across the hall from the elevator and step back inside. I shake my finger at him. "Playing with firearms is dangerous." We climb three more floors. I go to step from the elevator but turn back around to look at him one last time. I reach over, pressing and holding the 'door open' button. "If you're a good boy and stay out of my way and don't move from here, I'll come back for you and we can finish this little game of ours. Would you like that?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good dog. Now sit and stay like the good, obedient little bitch you are. Not a word, no matter what." I release the 'open door' button and place the finger on my lips as the sliding metal shuts him inside. I turn and strut down the empty hallway to room 1034. There's an added step in my heel knowing my new boy will still be exactly where I left him, no matter who happens to stumble upon him, or else my happy little heel will find itself lodged directly in his insubordinate little ass. I knock at the door for room 1034. There is movement on the other side. I listen carefully judging distance and number. No less than five. Two on either sides of the door, another at the opening of the foyer into the living room, another at the end of the hallway perpendicular to the foyer off to the right, and one directly in front of the balcony window. But, of course, this isn't an accurate estimate. Not everyone was careless enough to be moving just then. The ones I mentioned were barely a threat even armed to the teeth. Amateurs. Mercs possibly. Hired guns. The others were my only true concern. The door opens and there is nothing but darkness behind it except for the brilliant white screen of the uncovered balcony window and the shadow of the figure framed in the center of it.
"Welcome." He says. His arm goes up and with a whisper and a gust of wind, everything fades away and I am gone. I misjudged that one. A mistake I will not make again.
[...to be continued.]