24 Hours to Live Ch. 03

Joel McCabe faced a dilemma on this his final day on earth. Having set himself the Herculean task of stealing the virginity of arch nemesis Mickey Standish's eighteen-year-old daughter Tiffany, somehow he had to get to her. It would be no simple task, for home to the luscious Barbie clone was one of the flats above her father's club. With the only access via a door inside the club, it was about as impregnable as Fort Knox to the unwelcome former barman. Thus, a cunning plan was needed to worm his way inside.

It occurred to Joel that Fridays were big money Hold'em days in the Standish Empire. Well, how could he forget three weeks earlier when a wave of ill-placed optimism had seen him lose not only his life savings but another £4,000 on top? Now if only he could get a game... Sadly, a minimum buy-in of £500 all but priced out Joel. Yet, facing imminent death, he was on a suicide mission, prepared to do just about anything to wreak vengeance on Mickey and Tiffany Standish.

Joel really, really didn't want to part with the trusty VW Golf that had served him tirelessly over the past decade, certainly not for the paltry sum of £500. It was worth double if not more. But, having received just the one firm offer so far, and with time running out, he was in no position to hold out for more. Besides which, reliable German road-holding didn't count for much where he was going. Within an hour the deal was done, the wad of crumpled notes in his clammy paw.

* * *

"A last throw of the dice, huh Joel?" observed Standish, theatrically checking his fifty grand Rolex as Joel joined the assembly of gangsters, drug dealers, chancers, henchmen and hangers-on.

Joel nodded silently, cheery in the knowledge that he knew something Mickey didn't. Though his heart was racing. This was by far the biggest gamble of his life, and it had nothing to do with money.

Three tables of ten, the format was simple: last man standing took the lot. With unlimited rebuys for the first hour, the pot was liable to swell to enough to buy Standish a new wristwatch. For Joel, however, the dream of starting a new life with the fifty grand, of Mickey Standish's willingness to extend his credit and an idealistic belief that he could outplay these lowlifes had been Joel's downfall back then. Three weeks ago seemed like a different lifetime.

This time, however, once the initial stake was lost there would be no credit line for Joel, no second chance. But then that wasn't why he was here. He had bigger fish to fry. Resigned to his fate, Joel intended to leave a big ugly mark on those that had made his life a misery.

An hour in to the game, his stack had dwindled to a handful of notes, any outside hope of playing himself out of trouble having rapidly diminished in the fog of grey smoke. Glancing up, his heart missed a beat as, through the haze, his eyes fell upon Tiffany Standish, fresh from the West End and weighted down with shopping bags. A peck on her father's cheek so as not to disturb his card playing, she retreated upstairs avoiding Joel's glare. He heaved a deep breath, steeling himself for what had to be done.

When finally his luck at the table ran out, Joel issued his goodbyes. Engrossed in the game, no one paid any heed to the left turn, as he headed up the stairs, heart pounding violently. He could hear Tiffany the other side of the door, speaking on the telephone. Raising a fist, he took another huge breath and knocked. Tiffany's eye filled the spyhole. "Joel? What do you want?"

"Let me in, I need to speak."

"I can't, I'm going out soon."

"Just two minutes," he implored.

The door opened and Tiffany smiled thinly. There had been a time Joel believed she might have had genuine feelings for him and he for her. Those were heady times when the adrenaline and danger made his worthless life worthwhile. Another stupid pipe dream, the shallow brat had betrayed him, at the same time conferring this death sentence. Now all he felt was hate. "Well?" she pouted, dressed in a white tank top and pleated blue skirt from the finest Knightsbridge boutiques, her long blonde hair tied in a bow.

Hands on hips, a look of impatience filled her face. He made his move with ninja-like swiftness, twisting her round so that she faced away, a palm pressed to her mouth, the knife to her belly. As they shuffled along to the living room, his whispered warning in her ear not to struggle went unheeded.

It was as they entered the lounge that it occurred to Joel just how badly he'd misjudged the situation. Sitting on the couch with exasperated, fearful expressions were two other females Joel instantly recognised the pair as Mickey Standish's third wife Jackie and his older daughter Charlotte. Mouths fell open, all eyes his way as he wrestled Tiffany into an armchair, clasped tightly to his body. "Don't hurt her," cried Jackie instinctively.

A former pole dancer pushing forty, Jackie Standish had the figure of a younger woman, her breasts defying gravity and the intervening years. A bubbled-haired streetwise brunette, her eyes were large like a baby's. In a spangly tight pink shirt and jeans, she had been tending to the hair of Tiffany's older sister Charlotte prior to Joel's intrusion.

Sat across from Jackie on the couch, Charlotte Standish sported an armless, spaghetti-strapped turquoise top that stopped above the belly to reveal the obligatory navel piercing. In stark contrast to the other woman, Charlotte had a slender body, lacking cleavage, reminiscent of a schoolgirl. Her big highlighted hair was piled upon her head in readiness for a night on the town. Charlotte recognised Joel, her eyes slanting, though it was Jackie that spoke. "You've got some nerve."

Joel swallowed hard, assessing the situation. "Make a sound and I'll slit her throat," he warned, trying to convey an air of menace as Tiffany squirmed and wriggled in his lap, the blade held snugly to her throat.

"Let her go," reasoned Jackie. "Let her go and you can walk away no more said."

Joel didn't rate his chances. He'd be lucky to get past the front door. As Jackie made to rise from the couch, Joel ordered her to remain seated, his grip tightening at Tiffany's neck. "If it's money, you want..."

Joel shook his head over Tiffany's shoulder, the captive physically shaking. It wasn't about money.

"We'll do anything you say, just don't hurt her," offered Charlotte.

Joel contemplated the offer, salacious thoughts springing to mind. Maybe he could turn this adverse situation to an advantage. A three-for-one deal, his cock was throbbing with anticipation. "Anything, huh?" he mused. "Okay, I want you to start by taking off each other's clothes...slowly mind."

The pair looked at each other then at Joel, the blade remaining at Tiffany's throat. "No fucking about or she gets it. And believe me, I mean it."

There was a flicker of recognition in Jackie's huge Bambi eyes. Maybe she knew his fate. Maybe she realised he had absolutely nothing to lose. Certainly she was more compliant than he might have imagined, turning and inviting Charlotte closer. Charlotte hesitated, drawing a growl of displeasure from Joel's lips and a whimper from Tiffany as the blade tightened. It needed a prompt from the older woman to animate Charlotte. "Just do as he says, honey."

Gingerly Charlotte shuffled closer, Jackie inhaling as the younger woman's tremulous fingers reached out to pop the top button on the pink shirt. The sheer material stretched across the expansive breasts, drawing Joel's eyes. The second button opened to reveal the smooth tops of each breast. Joel heaved a deep sigh, his cock inflating to press at Tiffany's coccyx.

The third button hinted at a white bra, a pair of buxom breasts straining at the lacy cups. Joel's breath came faster, his arousal prompting Tiffany to shuffle uncomfortably. As the fourth and final button opened, Jackie's breasts forced the shirt to part and expose her belly. Charlotte looked to Joel for direction, his gesture telling her to remove it completely, the shirt sliding down Jackie's long arms. She sat in just the lacy bra, boobs quivering. It was the older woman's turn to look to Joel for direction. "Now take hers off."

Charlotte lifted arms above her head, allowing Jackie to grip the sides of the turquoise armless top, hoisting it clear to reveal a thin, athletic and tanned body, noticeably lacking in curves. Both turned to face Joel in bras that contained breasts of such wildly differing dimensions. Joel savoured the sight and the immense feeling of power. "Okay, strip each other off," Joel prompted.

After a brief hesitation, broken by Tiffany's whimper as Joel twisted the blade, Charlotte swung her shoulders around, allowing Jackie to reach for the clasp. A pair of pert b-cups, finished with the perkiest pink nipples imaginable was unveiled and immediately Charlotte went to cover herself. A further squeeze upon her sister's throat and the resultant squeal, coupled with Joel's steely glance, prompted them back to her sides. Joel feasted for precious moments, his bulge once more brushing the small of Tiffany's back.

Jackie mirrored the younger girl's actions, turning her back, Charlotte's shaky fingers fumbling with the catch. The uncoupled bra rested momentarily upon Jackie's globular breasts, before slipping down in slow motion into her lap. Her breasts were a high d-cup that stood defiantly upon her chest, with no midlife plunge as Joel might have expected. Jackie it seemed had been utilising Mickey Standish's dirty money for a little cosmetic enhancement. "I want you to play with them, Charlotte," mouthed Joel.

Charlotte's eyes darted from Jackie's to Joel's to Tiffany's, the latter's wide with terror as the blade scored her throat. Firmly seated in Joel's lap, she was repeating under her breath. "I can't believe this is happening...I can't believe this is happening..."

Joel chuckled, bathy in the rosy glow of control. Oh how he was going to go out in style, and to hell with the consequences. His only regret was not being able to witness Mickey Standish's face when the scene was uncovered. "Oh it is happening," he whispered back in Tiffany's ear, prompting a volley of light whimpers from the girl. "Play with them, Charlotte," he prompted, head raised.

Across the room, tentatively Charlotte extended an arm, her fingers lightly touching the top of Jackie's right breast. "Stroke it," directed Joel.

Following the obligatory pause, Charlotte consented, her tiny digits trailing the expanse of spherical flesh to the soft nipple. A caress and the nipple inflated. "Pinch it," ordered Joel.

Charlotte clamped the tips of thumb and forefinger over the erect teat, squeezing gently. "Harder!" barked Joel.

Jackie gave a little nod of approval to the younger woman, sucking in air as the tightened fingers pinched and twisted. Charlotte moved her hand across mimicking the action on the left nipple. At the same time, Tiffany shifted in Joel's lap, and instinctively the hand around her waist started to stroke the toned belly through the white tank top. Held tight, Tiffany could do no more than shift side-to-side. Higher the hand progressed, finding the undersides of her breasts. Bra-less underneath the tank top, Joel ran a palm over the curved surface, grazing each attentive nipple. Tiffany fought to control her breathing. "Lift your arms," Joel whispered in her ear, then louder: "LIFT."

Tiffany consented, the blade momentarily leaving her neck as Joel tugged the tank top clear, the other two women's attention drawn to Tiffany's peach-shaped boobs that held the middle ground size-wise. Charlotte's fingers seemed almost subconsciously to squeeze more meaningfully at her stepmother's nipple, a stifled gasp betraying Jackie. His ultimate fantasy, Joel's cock was so hard it chafed on his trousers.

Tiffany gasped too as Joel's free hand found her newly exposed breasts, cupping each in turn, kneading and pinching. They felt good in his hands, so fresh and young. "Change around," ordered Joel to the pair opposite. "I want to see you do that to Charlotte, Jackie."

Charlotte's arms dropped automatically to her sides as Jackie reached in to cradle each tiny breast. Concentrating on the perky nipples, minimal stimulation was required to prompt a treacherous moan of appreciation from the younger woman. "You want her to suck them, don't you Charlotte?" grinned Joel.

Charlotte shook her head in defiance. "Do it, Jackie," he boomed.

Jackie hesitated, glancing over to see the knife had been lowered to caress Tiffany's left breast, the blade teasing the nipple. "Please God, no," Tiffany begged, her throat clenched. "Do as he says..."

Having appraised the severity of the threat, Jackie obeyed, bending into Charlotte's lean body, her tongue extended beneath the erect teat. A lash of the tongue and the nipple was coated in saliva. Puckering, Jackie's lips closed in. She sucked long and hard, causing Charlotte to dig her teeth in her bottom lip. Looking up, Charlotte saw Joel grinning over, quickly allowing her face to cloud over once more. "Put more effort in, Jackie," sounded Joel, the prompt causing Jackie to glare but nonetheless press her face in harder.

At the same time, Joel wet his fingers on his tongue, reaching around to roll Tiffany's hard nipples between thumb and forefinger. She wriggled uncomfortably in his lap, each movement forcing Joel's stiff cock into her crevice of her arse. Sinking his teeth in her soft neck, she shied away, before the blade forced her back into position. "Run your fingers through Jackie's hair," Joel directed Charlotte. "Then I want to see you suck Jackie's tits."

With a look of hatred in her eyes, Charlotte stroked the older woman's brunette curls, fingers vibrating when Jackie's tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. Jackie flung back her head, a further glare at Joel before she allowed Charlotte to press her lips to her huge orbs. Charlotte tried to copy Jackie's actions, this being her first time with another woman and highly uncomfortable for her.

After a minute or so, Joel ordered a cessation. "Don't they look so good together, Tiffany? Mmmmmmm. Charlotte, stand up. Jackie, stay put."

Cleaning the saliva from her lips with a soft tongue, Charlotte did as ordered. Rising, her arms were folded across her breasts. "Move closer, Charlotte. Tiffany, I want you to take down her jeans," mouthed Joel over his captive's shoulder.

As Charlotte edged in, Tiffany's fingers reached for the belt at her sister's waist, sliding it through its holds. Joel took charge of the discarded length of leather, his brain flooding with nasty ideas, watching as the buttons at Charlotte's crotch popped open. The jeans were so tight that, despite wrinkling a little at each thigh, they remained more or less in place. "Pull them down," he ordered Tiffany.

Tiffany tugged and the denims eased down in a concertina at Charlotte's knees. They fell the remaining two feet, crumpling at her ankles to reveal a pair of angular legs. Joel's eyes, however, were transfixed to her groin, covered in a skimpy blue thong. The feint outline of Charlotte's pussy lips was visible, whilst an unmistakable dot of arousal at the crotch betrayed her nonchalance. "Take off her thong," suggested Joel matter-of-factly to his charge.

Tiffany baulked at the thought of touching her sister in that most private of places. Voicing his disapproval, Joel shifted, the knife providing the requisite encouragement to Tiffany to hook her thumbs through the side strings. Tugging sharply, Charlotte's cleanly shaven pussy was exposed. Pink, plump and glistening lightly, Joel smacked his lips in appreciation. "Now turn around," he ordered Charlotte. "Bend over and hold onto your ankles."

Charlotte did as instructed, an exchanged glance with Jackie who looked back sympathetically. Charlotte's tight arse mere a foot away, those plump pussy lips peeped back through her thighs as a hint of female arousal clung unmistakeably to the air beneath Joel's nostrils. Tiffany shifted uncomfortably, trying not to look at her sister's buttocks.

Suddenly Joel raised his free hand. Tiffany and Jackie could both see that it gripped Charlotte's belt, their eyes widening. The trio of backhand swipes took Charlotte by complete surprise, the leather stinging numbly. Fortunately for the girl, with Tiffany on his lap, Joel had been unable to gain much leverage, three feint pink lines running from cheek to cheek. Moreover, he had spared her the buckled end – for now. Nonetheless, Charlotte shrieked, as much in surprise as pain. "That's a warning, okay? If any of you steps out of line or disobeys me, it's the buckle end, and I won't fuckin' hold back. Understand? UNDERSTAND?"

Each woman acknowledged with a nod and a grunt. Jackie stood, appealing. "Leave these two innocent girls alone, take me, do anything you want..."

"Shut the fuck up," barked Joel. "Now turn around sideways," he directed, Charlotte shuffling around, the jeans still at her ankles. "Jackie, I think Charlotte could do with some pain relief. Get down on your knees behind her."

Jackie glowered over, defiantly staying put. She had decided this had gone too far.

"Now what the fuck did I just say?" Joel boomed.

Losing his temper, Joel lashed out with the belt. This time the buckle end bit into Charlotte's soft butt cheeks. She cried out in sheer pain. "Do as he says, please Jackie," she begged in between bouts of sucked-in air, a series of red welts materialising on the cheeks.

Jackie stood to take up a position at Charlotte's rear, staring into the younger woman's pussy. "God, you're sick," spat Tiffany, wriggling in his lap. "You're never going to get away with this, you know."

Joel smiled inwardly, knowingly. Little did she realise how little he cared. His own small inevitable death was worth this humiliation, the battle lost but the war won. "Enjoy the show," he whispered in Tiffany's ear. "I know I will."

Jackie looked over, awaiting instruction. "I want to see you eat that hot pussy," breathed Joel.

The clock on the wall told him that there were two hours left of his life, two hours to make these women pay for their association with that evil bastard, Mickey Standish. Two hours. Conceivably this could be the best two hours ever in Joel McCabe's life.

*

Having found myself unable to do the climax justice in one chapter, this story is to be continued into chapter 4. Thanks for your continuing words of encouragement. Please keep those votes and comments coming – it's what inspires this writer to be keep going. Many thanks, Mark.