Becca XXX: Dangerous Cargo Ch. 08

Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous episodes of Becca XXX Dangerous Cargo. Please read them before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters.

Becca XXX. Dangerous Cargo. Ch 08

We drove out of Simon's road and headed back towards the Cedars Estate. It was just after ten and the frost had already come down hard. The road and pavements sparkled like stars as the temperature dropped under a crystal-clear sky.

We hadn't spoken for a few minutes so I decided to break the silence.

"Why didn't you fuck me?" I asked.

"What?"

"At Simon's party. Why didn't you join in with the others and fuck me?"

"I was watching your performance. You were quite impressive. You just got straight down to it without so much as a flinch. I've never seen anything like it. I even treated you like I owned you and you didn't resist," he explained.

"I love being treated like a whore," I admitted. "But I think you were the only one in the room who didn't cum."

"Probably," he laughed. "Don't worry, the night is still young."

"I was hoping you'd say that. If you could feel how wet and slippery my pussy is right now, you'd be inside me in seconds."

I wasn't lying. My vaginal walls were caked in the semen of at least six guys, who'd used me like a cum bucket. The fact that I wasn't wearing any panties wasn't helping the situation either.

"You never stop with the dirty talk, do you?" he laughed.

"I just love sex. I loved being shared. Who were all those people?"

"Most of them are Simon's friends. It was his idea about a year ago to throw sex parties. The first two that he had were a complete disaster because people were too nervous and inhibited. I suggested supplying drugs for his shindig and it was a game changer. Simon was a little apprehensive about it, but when everyone started stripping off and getting down to it, he soon changed his mind," he laughed. "The dirty bastard is all about watching other people fuck. He loves it."

"Yeah, I can see that. Does he take drugs?"

"Simon? Fuck no," he gasped. "He's still twitchy about it even now. He wasn't happy about charging an entrance fee of one-hundred pounds either, but he soon got used to the idea."

"A hundred quid each? Fucking hell, he's just made four grand in one night?" I exclaimed.

"Minus expenses. Drugs aren't free, Becca."

"Is that why he gave you the envelope?"

"Shit. You don't miss much, do you?"

"I like to know what I'm getting myself involved in."

"Nosey, as well as slutty. Your talents never end. Yes, that was my share of the takings."

"So, why did you give it to the guy with grey hair? Is he a dealer too?"

"You really are an inquisitive little bitch, aren't you Becca?"

"Like I said -- I like to know what I'm getting involved in. Is he the head man?"

"Ryan? Fuck no. He's just a friend who I owed money to, that's all."

"Well, I hope you've got some money left for me. You haven't paid me the two-hundred quid yet," I laughed.

"After your performance, I'm going to double it to four-hundred. You earned it."

"Holy shit, really?" I swooned, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek as he drove. "Thank you."

"Like I said -- you earned it."

I was playing my part well, even though I despised everything that this man stood for. Kissing him as though he was my hero was all part of getting closer to him. I looked out of the window as we continued our journey. We were back out in the rough end of town and I recognised the road we were driving along. I'd ran down this road a few nights ago. We seemed to be heading to the Slaughtered Lamb pub. I snapped back to reality as I realised the night wasn't over. I was still in danger, but I felt the flick knife in the seam of my jacket and it put my mind at rest a little.

We drove past the pub without stopping and continued in the same direction that I'd run on Tuesday night.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"You wanted to know why I'm a drug dealer. I told you, it's easier to show you why," he replied, avoiding the question.

I could see the row of shops in the distance and the remains of the warehouse where I'd killed two of his gang. My heart started to beat harder in my chest and I wondered if my cover was blown. Maybe he'd recognised me from the news report when I'd been seen on cctv. I couldn't see how - my face had been covered. It could have been anyone in that photo.

The shops looked deserted and only the kebab house was still open. There was no sign of any dealers, but I still moved my hand to the inside of my jacket ready to make a grab for the knife if I needed to. I went through the actions I'd need in my head at light-speed. I'd have to take the knife out, press the button to extend the blade and then stab Brian with it. My other hand would be on the door handle which I would have to pull twice to unlock and open the door. I'd then click the seat belt off and make a run for it.

We drove past the shops and turned into the road where the abandoned warehouse was. My heart felt like it was about to explode and I broke into a sweat. My breathing increased as my body prepared itself for a fight.

Out of the side window I could see blue and white tape where the area had been cordoned off while the police had done their investigation. The bodies were obviously long gone but there were signs up asking for witnesses to come forward.

Brian pulled over at the curb.

He switched the engine off.

The silence was deafening and the atmosphere could have been cut with a knife.

"We're here," he said, taking his seatbelt off.

I clicked mine off too. It would be one less thing I'd need to do to escape.

"Where's here?" I asked.

"Come with me and I'll show you," he said.

He opened his door and got out. I felt the chill blow in from outside and wondered what the hell was going on.

I got out of the car and closed the door, expecting the worst.

"Come on," he said.

He headed back towards the shops and I walked in step with him. My eyes were out on stalks, expecting to be jumped by some of his gang at any moment.

We crossed the road and walked past the kebab house.

I was ready for anything, but nothing happened.

To my amazement we walked past the shops and he stopped outside the old people's care home. I had hidden here a few nights ago, when some of his customers had walked past me.

"In here," he said, nodding at the main entrance. "They don't normally allow visitors at this time of night, but the receptionist is a good customer of mine and she lets me in whenever I want."

"What are we doing here?" I asked, feeling confused but somewhat relieved that he hadn't mentioned the warehouse or his dead dealers.

He didn't answer, we just walked into the reception area and Brian nodded at the girl behind the counter.

"There's been no change, Brian," she said. "Go on through."

We walked down a brightly lit corridor and stopped outside one of the doors.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"It's a care home for the elderly and the terminally ill," he replied. "You wanted to know why I turned to a life of crime and drugs? I'll show you."

He opened the door and I followed him inside. There was an elderly woman lying in a hospital bed with tubes and wires coming out of her. She was connected to a ventilator and heart rate machine which was beeping and rasping.

"It costs two thousand pounds a week to keep her here," he said sadly.

"Who is she?" I asked looking down at the woman in the bed.

She looked ancient and barely alive. There was no meat on her bones and she looked like a skeleton in a nightdress.

"My grandma. She's always been my only family. She brought me up and looked after me until I was old enough to move out and get a place of my own," he said, picking up her hand and holding it in his.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Cancer. She has pancreatic cancer and there's no cure. They keep her comfortable here and the machines are keeping her alive. I'm not ready to let her go yet."

"I'm so sorry, Brian. I had no idea."

"She's been here for eighteen months. The government wanted to put her in a state hospice, but I've seen those places. There was no way I'd let her die in a shit hole like that, so I brought her here," he explained.

"And you're paying the bills?" I replied as I started to see where he was going with this.

"Yes."

"And you couldn't afford them on a normal wage, so you turned to crime?"

"What else could I do?" he shrugged. "I didn't think it would be for long, but I got in with a local gang called The Lees. I dealt drugs and got paid enough money to pay for her care."

"The Lees? I've heard of them," I gasped in fake shock. "They've been all over the news. They're dangerous people."

"I know. At first, I was shitting myself, but they kept throwing money at me and they accepted me. I felt like I was part of something," he said. "I liked the excitement and the power."

I didn't say anything. I just waited for him to explain himself. He obviously felt like he needed to talk to someone. Maybe I was wrong about him. It sounded like he'd been backed into a corner for the love of his dying grandmother. It was a bit of a cliché but I understood it.

I suddenly realised why his car had been parked up outside the warehouse when I'd looked at the tracker data. He wasn't hiding guns in the warehouse he was visiting his only relative. He may have been resupplying his dealers too, but the main reason for him being there was lying in the bed in front of me.

'The intel team have excelled themselves again,' I thought to myself. 'They should have known about this.'

"Nobody knows she's here," he said, as if he was reading my thoughts. "I pay cash for her treatment. I don't want The Lees knowing about her."

"That's understandable," I said. "Are you going to leave them when she's gone?"

"Why would I do that?" he said.

I was surprised by his answer.

"To get a normal life back? To do the right thing? To stop being a criminal? How many more reasons do you need?" I stated.

"I don't want my normal life back. People fear me on the streets. They're scared of me because of who I am and what I do," he said proudly. "Everyone knows not to mess with Yorkie."

"So, this is all bullshit," I said gesturing at the bed. "This sob story is nothing to do with why you're a criminal. You do it because you enjoy it. That's the real reason."

In the blink of an eye, he let go of his grandma's hand and launched himself towards me. His hand gripped my throat and he pushed me back against the wall, squeezing hard.

"You little fucking skank. This isn't a fucking sob story. She's my grandma. Don't fucking talk about her like that," he said through gritted teeth. "I could kill you right here and no one would ever find your body."

I felt the blood rushing to my head and the veins popping out of my temples. I couldn't speak. All I could do was nod and plead with my eyes for him to release my throat. He held me for a few more seconds to make his point and then he let me go. I flopped down onto the floor gasping for breath and coughing loudly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I spat. "You're fucking unhinged."

"Exactly," he replied with madness in his eyes. "Don't fuck with me, understand? I wasn't joking when I said I owned you now."

"So why bring me here?" I choked.

"You asked why I turned to crime. I did it so she can die with some dignity," he pointed to the bed. "It's changed me and I don't want to change back. I like being a bad-ass."

"I wouldn't call lying in bed in a vegetive state, dying with dignity," I pointed out. "You're just prolonging the inevitable.

"Do you want me to fucking choke you again," he glared at me.

"No, it's ok, just calm down," I said, getting to my feet. "Maybe I've upset you by asking too many questions. I don't mean to pry."

Once again, he'd played into my hands. He thought he had some power over me and that meant I was getting closer. He'd already told me the name of the grey-haired man and now he'd shown me what started his criminal career. I wondered what was coming next.

"Yes, you do ask a lot of fucking questions, Becca," he snapped. "It makes me wonder why."

"I'm just curious about what makes people tick," I lied. "I never asked you to bring me here. You could have just told me to shut the fuck up and to mind my own business."

He looked at me as if he'd seen something within me that he hadn't noticed before. He was suspicious.

"Are you really who you say you are?" he squinted at me.

"Of course I am. You know everything about me."

"Have you dealt drugs before?" he asked.

"No. You've read my criminal record. You know it doesn't mention drugs."

"That doesn't mean you didn't do it. It just means you never got caught," he pointed out. "You weren't bothered in the slightest about tonight. You just got started dishing them out as though it didn't bother you."

"I was trying to impress you and I need the money. You might not want to get a better life, but I do. I want to get out of the Cedars Estate and move away from crime. This is a temporary arrangement."

"That's what I said when I started," he replied. "Now I'm practically running the show."

He was still telling me far more than he realised. This guy was like a schizophrenic. One minute he was choking me and the next he was telling me his life story. When I'd told him, he was unhinged -- I meant it. It was easy to see how he could just flip a switch and start gunning people down in the street.

"You're in charge?" I quizzed.

"Of certain things, yes."

"Dare I ask?"

"Probably best if you don't."

He went silent for a moment and moved back to the bed. He picked up his grandmother's hand and kissed it gently before placing it back on the bed.

"See you soon," he said. "Come on, I'll take you home, you need to earn the rest of your money."

He pushed past me and back out into the corridor. I followed like an obedient puppy snapping at his heels.

"Is that it?" I asked.

"Not even close," he snarled. "Now you've got the answer to your question. You know who I am and how it started. But also know this -- you work for me now. If I call you and tell you to do something, you do it."

"What if I don't," I protested.

"Then you'll lose more than your job," he gave me a menacing stare.

Death threats never really bothered me -- they pissed me off more than anything. I knew he was capable of it, but I was better trained than he was. Without him being armed, I would have the advantage.

"And what am I expected to do? Fuck strangers at Simon's party again?"

"No, that's just a bit of fun. Now that you work for me, you'll be distributing drugs to the street dealers. I'll get you the use of a car," he explained. "I'll explain it all back in the car. This isn't the right place to discuss business."

He put his hand into his jeans pocket and produced a wad of cash. He held it out to me, but kept hold of it as I tried to take it. It was another display to show me he was in charge.

"Four-hundred, just like I told you. This proves I'm a man of my word," he said with a crazed look in his eyes.

He let the money go and I realised it was another threat. What he was saying was that he was true to his word about the money, but also about the death threat.

I nodded and put the wad in my jacket pocket.

We walked back down the corridor and through the door into reception. Brian approached the girl behind the desk with something in his hand.

"Thank you," he said, sliding it over the desk to her.

Their hands crossed over and she quickly put the item in her pocket. It was obviously a drugs transaction to keep her sweet.

"You're welcome anytime, Yorkie," she smiled. "She's comfortable here, but deteriorating every day."

"I know. Keep me posted," he nodded.

We pushed the door open and went back into the cold night. I pulled my jacket around me tighter to keep warm and I felt the flick knife dig into my side.

Brian seemed to be rushing to get back to the car, probably to get back into the warm and tell me what I was expected to do for him. Maybe he just wanted a blowjob before he took me home. I had achieved a lot tonight. Apart from having three orgasms and taking multiple loads of cum all over me, I was now working for Brian. The one thing that I'd been hankering after all week. I felt proud but concerned as the next stage was going to be even harder.

As we approached the car my mind was racing with all the new information and my guard was down for longer than it should have been.

I didn't see them coming until it was too late.

Three men jumped out of the darkness near the warehouse with their pistols drawing down on us. At the same time, a black van screamed into the top of the road from the shops and screeched to a halt next to us.

"Don't even think about running," said one of the men in front of us. "We'll gun you down like a dog, Yorkie."

I weighed up my options -- I had none.

The knife would be useless and running would get me killed. For all of Brian's bravado about what a dangerous man he was, he seemed to be terrified. We both put our hands in the air as the side door on the van slid open. I heard footsteps behind me. There were at least two men, big and heavy by the sound of it.

A strong hand gripped my arm and I felt a cold sharp object being pressed into my neck. Out the corner of my eye I could see that Brian was receiving the same treatment. I recognised the object being forced into the nape of his neck. It was small and black and had two metal prongs sticking out the end of it.

It was a taser.

Bbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Fifty-thousand volts pulsed through every nerve in my body and I convulsed and twitched as though I was having a full body orgasm.

Everything went black.

****

When I came too, I heard the rumble of tyres on the road and felt the coldness of the steel floor of the van. I opened my eyes but just saw the blackness of the inside of a sack which was over my head. My hands and feet were tied and I had someone's feet on top of me using me as a foot stool.

"I can't believe we've got the fucker," said a deep guttural voice. "The man himself."

"I know. I thought we'd get a couple of his crew, but this cunt was stupid enough to return to the scene of the crime," said the guy with his feet on me.

I kept still and passive, pretending to be unconscious. All I could do was listen and try to tune in.

At least five men had been involved in our capture, plus the van driver. The obvious conclusion was that these were The Mancs, looking for further retaliation over the killing of three more of their men.

"The boss is going to be ecstatic when we turn up with Yorkie," said Feet. "Just imagine what's going to happen to him."

"You hear that, asshole," said a younger sounding guy. "I hope you like pain."

I heard one of them kick him, but there was no response. Either Brian was still out cold or he was doing the same as me.

"What about the crack whore?" asked a softer voice. "The boss can have fun with Yorkie, but I'd like to have some fun with her."

"Join the queue. Have you seen the tits on her?"

I realised that my leather jacket had flopped open as I lay on my side. The slogan on my T-shirt was plain to see, as were my braless breasts which were obviously getting their attention. Maybe wearing such a suggestive T-shirt hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"She's not wearing a bra either by the look of it. Dirty bitch," said Deep Voice.

"Haha, I bet Yorkie was planning on sticking it in her later. Don't worry mate, we'll do it for you," laughed his friend.

I'd already been fucked senseless at Simon's party and now it looked like I was about to be gang raped as well.