Barry's Sluts Ch. 03: Imani

But sense and reason were the furthest things from either of their minds right now.

Quickly, Imani reached up and grasped the back of Barry's head, bringing his lips to hers. He responded instantly, smothering their mouths together completely, not allowing a single pocket of air to escape the compression. His hands reached down to her thighs, her thick, meaty thighs, and his fingertips traced the outline of muscle that made them so obscenely gorgeous.

Through muffled groans, the two of them never stopped for breath, with air barely able to fill their lungs. Finally, they were forced to pause and gasp for breath. Giving deep, lustful gazes as they sighed for relief.

"Lord Almighty, Barry," she said, completely aghast. "What are we doing?!"

He only smiled sweetly, still laying atop her. "I don't want to stop."

"I -- I don't, either, but . . . My God, you're my brother! Half-brother, yes, but . . . God!!"

He gently stroked her beautiful face and confessed the truth. "I don't care. I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. I've never seen a woman like you before. Your face, your body, your magnificent ass and tits . . . they're all incredible! I've wanted this for so long!"

She stared at him, dumbfounded. "Even if we're related . . .?"

"Especially if we're related," he said.

"You . . . you're crazy!" She shouted.

"Then tell me no," he said. "Tell me no right now, and I'll stop." In the meantime, he lowered his mouth to her neck, where he began softly kissing and licking her most sensitive spots even as his hands boldly went to her chest, squeezing her tits through the thin, sweaty material of her top.

She opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was turned immediately into a sensuous moan. Barry continued what he was doing, immediately moving his lips to her ear, where he gently began nibbling.

"I . . . I can't," she sobbed. "God help me, I can't say that."

"Then just let go and enjoy it," he said, kissing her on the lips yet again. "Come home with me tonight, and let me—"

His words were stopped when the loud wail of Imani's cellphone echoed through the gymnasium. It broke Barry's spell over her long enough for her to roll away and answer. Barry reached out to stop her, but then forced himself not to . . . not willing to risk forcing his sister to make a choice she didn't want.

So he sat there, on his knees, while she crawled out of the ring and answered her phone.

"Yes? Imani Ahmad speaking."

"What?! What the hell happened?!?"

"No, no, don't do anything. Don't do anything until I get there! I'm on my way! Just keep her there until I get there!"

She hung the phone immediately and turned back to Barry. "Sorry, I gotta go."

"Wait," he said, "that sounded important. What was that? Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, just some work-related stuff. Something needs my immediate attention, so I need to run down and check it out."

Barry stood. "Well, if it's work-related, then it concerns me, too. You still work for me, am I right?"

She paused. "R-Really, it's nothing."

"Imani," Barry said sternly. "I've had enough of women trying to hide secrets from me lately."

She swallowed, and immediately caved to his command. "There's a problem at Talent Acquisition. It's . . . it's not even worth your time, reall—"

"Come on," he said, ignoring her words as he stepped out of the ring. "Let's get dressed and you can explain everything to me along the way."

******

As Barry and Imani rode the limo to the TA office, she filled him in on what she knew. They were doing a scene for "Anal Jihad", a series of Arabic-themed videos from Stallion's Exotic Foreign collection. One of their newest stars in this department was "Hasana Bin Laden", a girl that had been acquired along with seventy others from Rod's most recent talent search and barely spoke any English. During filming, two of the actors started getting rough during a double-penetration scene. She was crying and struggling, and without any way to understand what she was saying, they thought she was just getting into the scene. But then, she started to really go wild, biting and clawing through the men until they finally had to restrain her.

She'd been taken back to Talent Acquisition, where they wanted to try and figure out what had gone wrong. All of a sudden, a group of shady men showed up and demanded to take her with them. Knowing they looked like trouble, they put out a call to Imani, Stallion's newly-promoted manager of Talent Acquisition.

"So who are these guys?" Barry asked. "And what do they want with Hasana?"

"I don't know, but they're probably not going to leave because we asked them nicely."

Barry reached behind his back and brandished a .45 Magnum. "What if my friend asks them not so nicely?"

Imani's eyes widened. "Since when have you had that?"

"Got my CCW permit not long back," Barry told her. "All thanks to you and hitting the range time and time again."

"Well, I'm glad I was a help, but . . . hell. Look at that cannon! You planning on hunting a T-Rex?"

Barry checked the safety and the chamber carefully. "You were right before—fists aren't enough. I know what it's like to bring fists to a gunfight, and I'll be goddamned before I'll let another asshole point a gun at someone I love. I didn't buy this gun to shoot someone and let them keep the ability to shoot back. If I'm forced to fire this at somebody, they're taking a long nap. Period."

Imani didn't argue, but she seemed disquieted for the rest of the trip. Barry understood; he was hoping that this wouldn't result in violence, either, but he was prepared to do what he had to.

When they arrived at the office, every muscle in his body was tense and his heart was beating at a rate he'd barely felt before. When the car stopped, Barry's driver and bodyguard stepped out with them, nodding to his boss that he was ready to go. Barry took the lead and Imani followed, with the gigantic guardian right behind both.

Finally, they entered Imani's office, with a trio of thuggish individuals hovering menacing around the desk of Imani's assistant, who was practically pissing his pants.

"I -- I told you already, I can't let you without . . .Oh! Oh, there she is! My boss showed up! And with the owner of the company too!"

Barry stepped up and eyed the biggest of the brutes fearlessly. "There a problem?"

The man showed no fear or concern for Barry's garishness and actually smirked in contempt of the young man who was, at best, six inches shorter.

"There ain't no problem. We're just here to collect our little sister," the man answered, followed by a chuckle from the other two.

Barry's expression didn't change. His hands stayed locked behind his back, where his Magnum was easily within reach. His guardian stood with a hand inside his jacket, not even bothering to hide his intentions. But, as far as these men were concerned, they were three against two, and Imani didn't even factor into the equation.

"You're saying Hasana Bin Laden is your sister," he responded to the obviously-caucasian hooligan.

"You sayin' she ain't?"

Barry smirked and looked over to the terrified, Arabic woman cringing and shivering in the corner. Walking past the brute, he gently went to her and extended his greeting.

"Hi, Hasana," he said. She didn't reply and cringed in deeper terror. Barry didn't lose his smile and pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

"That guy says they're your brothers. Is that true?"

Hasana shouted something hysterically, but in Arabic. He couldn't understand a word of it.

"See? She just said, 'I wanna go home. Let me go with my big brothers'," the thug said smugly.

Imani folded her arms. "No she didn't."

The man turned and scowled. "You calling me a liar, bitch?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did it go over your head?"

"Look, unless you can somehow prove I'm lyin', then—"

"<Hi, Hasana. I'm Imani. I'm here to help you, and so is the man in front of you.>" Imani called out to the timid woman in Arabic.

Jaws dropped all over the room.

"<Oh thank you! Thank you! Please, don't let them hurt me!>" Hasana cried out. Her eyes flashed toward Barry happily as she threw her arms around him.

"Well damn," Barry said with a chuckle. "What did you tell her?"

"I said you were here to help," Imani replied. She turned to the thugs. "And then she begged us not to let them hurt her."

"Okay, fuck this," the crook growled, reaching in his coat. "You want this to be hard, then—"

"Stop right there," the bodyguard said, pulling out his piece and pointing it at the leader.

"Or what? There's three of us, smart guy, and you've only got one gun."

Barry brandished his magnum. "Sorry, counting must not be your strong suit."

The thug turned back toward him. "Last I checked, three was still more than two, dumbass."

Another gun cocked. "How about now?" Everyone turned, finding a shiny weapon skillfully held within Imani's hands.

The goons froze, knowing that they were fucked now.

"Okay," the leader said, taking his hands out of his coat and pointing them at the sky. His flunkies did the same. Barry's bodyguard then stepped in and began checking them for weapons, throwing all of them on the floor as he found them. "You win. Keep the bitch. But if you don't let us out walk out of here, it's suicide. You know that, right? Do you have any idea who we work for?"

"No, why don't you tell us?" Barry demanded.

"We're part of the Syndicate. And my buddies and I are all made men. If we don't walk out that door, all your days are numbered."

Imani glanced over at Barry with a nervous look.

"Why do you want her?" Barry asked him, indicating Hasana.

He shrugged. "Beats me."

"Bullshit. Talk now, or I put a bullet in your goddamn head," Barry growled.

"Barry . . ." Imani started to say.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" the thug said. "Do you know how much shit you'll be in? And for that skank over there? What the fuck is she even worth to you?"

"She works for me," Barry answered. "That makes her part of my family. And nobody points a fucking gun at my family."

The thug thought for a moment, trying to tell if Barry was serious or just posturing. But, the truth surely hit him not long after.

Barry was not joking.

"Look, we were told to retrieve a defective product. That's all I know."

"Defective product?" Barry repeated. "She's a fucking slave?!"

"What the fuck did you think she was?!" the mobster chuckled. "What, you thought she came over the pond on the Good Ship Lollipop without speaking a fucking word of English? She's just a piece of fucking trash, is what. Her real name ain't even 'Bin Laden'. That was just a little joke me and the boys cooked up at the towel-head's expense."

Barry grit his teeth, sick to his fucking stomach. There was a slave trade running in his studio. She'd been sold in his company, and forced to fuck behind his cameras. And these pieces of scum had the balls to laugh about it? By rights, he felt like pulling the trigger and ending them. But, he knew it'd only cause him more problems.

As it stood now, he was already neck-deep in shit.

"James?" Barry called to Imani's assistant. "Call the cops. The rest of you jackasses? Get the fuck out of here. NOW."

The crook started laughing. "Smart move. Why throw your life away for some third-world piece of garbage you don't even fucking know?"

"I'm going to count to three," Barry insisted.

"Okay, fine, fine! You don't need to convince me." He motioned for his boys to follow him, and they started out of the door. Barry's bodyguard escorted them on their way.

Barry breathed a sigh of relief and knelt next to the whimpering Hasana. "Imani, you speak Arabic?"

"My last name is Ahmad, you know," she told him. "Mom was Black Muslim."

"Fine, whatever. Just translate what I say for me."

Barry comforted the frightened girl and told her that no one would harm her now. She burst into tears and hugged him again.

When the cops finally got there, they asked more questions and took notes. Then, they took Hasana under their protection and left.

******

Barry and Imani left some time after, with both of them quiet until Imani finally spoke up.

"Thanks, Barry . . . for helping me with that situation. I don't think I could've handled that as good as you did. You acted better than most soldiers I knew in there today."

"Thanks, Sis," he said, beaming. "And I appreciate you backing me up when you did. Where did you get that gun from, anyway?"

She scratched the back of her head and blushed. "I . . . uh . . . kept one in my desk, just in case."

Barry chuckled. "Now, sis . . . . You wouldn't happen to have a permit for that, wouldya?"

She shrugged. "Must have gotten lost in the mail."

The two shared a laugh.

"But seriously . . . That was amazing, what you did. . ."

Barry sucked air through his teeth. "It's not like this wasn't unexpected. And it won't be the last time."

"What? What do you mean . . .?"

Barry bit his lip. But then, gently, Imani placed a hand on his thigh.

"Come on, Barry. Aren't we friends? Aren't we family? You can tell me anything."

Barry sighed. He reached over and pressed a button to his side, rolling up a divider between themselves and the driver to keep their conversation quiet. "I've been being blackmailed by Bill Thornton for years."

The name didn't seem to ring a bell. "Who?"

"The mayor of Chicago," he told her. "He's got my family by the nuts, and I need to pay him off to keep a few things . . . secret."

She lowered her voice. "What kind of . . . secrets?"

Again, he hesitated. "Imani, I don't know if you're ready to hear what—"

"Barry, please. I'm gonna back you up no matter what you say. Just tell me what this guy has got on you so maybe I can help."

He sighed in surrender. "My mother is one of my slaves," he told her. "And she gave birth to nine of my children."

Imani's eyes went wide. "What?!"

He sighed. "I told you you weren't ready."

Imani sat back in her seat, stunned. "It's not that, I just . . . wow. Wow. So . . . so, what you said at the gym . . . about not caring that I was your sister . . ."

"I meant every word of it," he answered truthfully.

She took a deep breath. "Okay, so is that it? Just the whole . . . incest . . . thing?"

"No," Barry answered. "My mother also controls a business which could be . . . construed as a brothel under certain contexts. She skirts the bounds of the law just about every day, and combined with our . . . unique relationship . . . either of us could lose our kids, our business, and even our freedom if we aren't absolutely careful."

Imani nodded. "So what's that got to do with this Thornton guy?"

"He works for the Outfit, aka the Syndicate. They run businesses here in LA, Vegas, Chicago, all the way up to New Jersey. The guys who we ran into today work for those same people."

"Can you prove Thornton works for them?"

"If I could, do you think I'd still be paying him off?"

She slapped herself on the head. "Duh. Guess not. But Barry, why did you stick up for that girl? What was she worth to you?"

"Like I said . . . she works for me. Or worked for me, anyway, and I don't tolerate slavery or coercion of any sort. I'm a hedonist. I'm all about doing what feels good, but only if it's fair for everyone involved. Shit like that sickens me, and I'm having any of that crap."

Imani nodded and smiled. It was obvious that she approved over everything he'd just said. "So why did you say you expect this to happen again? What haven't you told me yet?"

Barry continued, "I've been building a case against Thornton for years. Using my contacts to learn all of his shady little hideouts, where his . . . 'associates' . . . conduct business, and shit like that."

Imani was stunned. "H-How?"

Barry smirked proudly. "The day Thornton started to blackmail me, he said something interesting. He meant it as a taunt. Trying to make feel intimidated by how much he knew about me. But he's a goddamn idiot, and he didn't know he'd just given me everything I needed to fight his pimpled ass.

"He said that Emily, one of my mother's submissives, 'sucks the meanest cock' according to his boys. That told me that Thornton—or at least the people that worked for him—liked to dip their dicks into something they paid for every now and then.

"That was why my mother started her little . . . enterprise. In addition to being 'escorts', two of them are also private investigators. They're the ones who led me to you. One of my own submissives is a professional bounty hunter, along with her husband. Thornton's been squeezing them too, and they were eager to join us to take the bastard down. Three other women working for my mother are hackers, capable of breaking into damned near any system they feel like. Most crooks are cash only these days, but Thornton works political platform, so his money is traceable.

"All together, it's an effective operation. For the past five years, we've been slowly building our ammunition, case by case. We needed enough to go to either Thornton or the Feds with, without implicating ourselves at the same time. We needed to get enough on him to end this once and for all, and possibly deal with all of his 'associates' if the time came."

His brow narrowed. "But my family and my company are where I toe the fucking line. Like I said, I always knew that one day, Thornton or his goons would go too far. That some day, the war would start. We've spent five years getting ready. And if we didn't just start it today, then it's still only a matter of time."

Imani was still in complete awe. "You . . . you did all of this yourself?"

"Damn right," Barry nodded. "You can't believe how much time and money it cost. How many laws I had to bend or outright break—falsifying tax information, investment rackets, just to keep myself and my family afloat, and it wasn't easy. I've nearly been caught at it twice.

"Over the course of five years, I've walked the line. Every shady deal and crooked act taking me a step closer to becoming what I hate. But, I've promised every one of my friends and my family that I would do whatever it took to protect them, and I meant it. And I'll see that bastard Thornton rotting in hell If it's the last thing I do!"

All at once, Imani licked her lips and scooted forward. An instant later, she planted herself on Barry's lap, throwing her arms around him and pressing her lips to his once again. Again, Barry's hands went right to her thighs, caressing them lovingly even as she desperately combed through his hair, bring him as close as possible as their tongues wrestled.

After a minute or two, the car suddenly stopped.

With the strongest control he could muster, Barry tore himself away enough to speak.

"Y-You're home," he said, still staring at her with eyes glazed with pure lust.

Her sweet breath hard and rapid, and her lips still aching to feel his own, she cooed, "This isn't my home tonight, baby brother."

Barry grinned happily and touched the intercom at his side. "Ted?"

"Sir?" the driver said.

"You can keep going."

"Yes, sir.

******

They could barely keep themselves apart long enough to get inside the door. Their hands and lips were everywhere, already feeling every ounce of each other as if already nude. Neither cared, and as soon as the door closed, their hands were fiddling with their clothing.

"Just rip if off me," Imani growled. "Treat me like I'm your cow!"

Barry didn't need further instruction that that. His hands grabbed her and tore at her blouse, ripping to shreds with the use of every ounce of his bulging muscles. She yelped with great satisfaction as her enormous chocolate breasts bounced free, finally letting Barry get his first glance at their flawless, naked form.