Becca XXX - Hard Time Ch. 11

Sasha was going to unknowingly lead me to my target, but what happened after that was down to me. I wanted answers from this guy who'd been lurking in the shadows for so long, pursuing his own agenda. The Generals were a secretive bunch and although I was under orders to kill Hamilton, I was going to see what information I could get from him first.

It was a shame that I was in such deep cover. I knew of a dozen safe houses nearby where we could have hidden in comfort and luxury, but I couldn't risk arousing Sasha's suspicions. A safe house would also have given me access to weapons and equipment which would be extremely useful to help me take this guy out. I also had my own secret stash of weapons and money which I'd kept from previous missions. My trusty Makarov and MP7 were hidden in a self-storage place not too far away, but again I couldn't risk it with Sasha in tow.

Once I finally got to meet Charles, I'd have to use whatever was to hand to get the job done. Killing him was easy, but getting away was going to be more difficult. I had no doubt that he would be surrounded by body guards or security. A man in his position would need all the security he could get. After I thought through several scenarios in my mind, I gave it up and got my head back into driving.

I felt exhausted and I wasn't surprised that Sasha had fallen asleep. The stress of being gang raped followed by killing the prison guards and then escaping as The Crow burned the place to the ground had drained me completely. I was looking forward to a hot shower and warm bed for the night and it couldn't come soon enough.

****

"Wake up, bitch face," I laughed, slapping Sasha on the thigh. "We're approaching Brighton. Where do we need to go?"

"What... oh... fuck... yaaawwwnnnn," she groaned, stretching back like a yawning cat. "What time is it?"

"It's three thirty. Where are we heading?"

"Head for the marina," she replied in a sleepy voice. "There's a load of holiday homes down there. We just need to pick one that's empty."

She straightened herself up and wiped her eyes as I drove the car down Marine Parade. The seafront was like a ghost town, lined with hotels on one side and the beach on the other. The black inky sea stretched out to the horizon as we passed Brighton pier.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked.

"Yeah, me and Melody used to do this all the time. No one wants to be in this part of the world when it's cold and rainy. There'll be a lot of empty holiday homes for the taking."

I kept going along the seafront and soon saw the turn off for the marina that she'd been talking about. I was about to turn onto Marina Way when Sasha stopped me and directed me straight on.

"No, keep going," she said. "We need to ditch the car away from where we're staying. We don't want to advertise our whereabouts once the police realise they're looking for Reid's car."

"Good thinking," I said, pulling the car onto a side road called Lews Crescent.

We were now in a housing estate with plenty of parked cars on either side of the road. It wasn't exactly a long way from where we were planning on spending the night, but it was far enough away not to cause us a problem.

"Just park up anywhere," said Sasha, picking up the day sack and stuffing it full of anything useful. "We'll walk the rest of the way."

Her anti-surveillance skills were good and I was glad that she was leading the way with this part of the mission. It looked more natural if we shared the responsibility of the escape plan. I parked the car between two large vans which would help to hide it from view and then I switched off the engine.

The town was eerily quiet as we stepped out into the cold. It was freezing and I wished I'd managed to find a coat from the charity bins. We closed the car doors quietly, giving them a shove rather than a slam and Sasha swung the day sack over her shoulder.

"Let's go," she said. "It's back the way we came. Head for Marina Way and then on to The Strand. We need a place to hide until we can get the train to London in the morning."

I put my baseball cap on and then pulled my hood up to keep the cold out. Sasha led the way and we crossed the main road and headed into the marina. The smell of salty sea air filled my lungs, almost burning the back of my throat it was so cold. I always loved sneaking around in the dark when everyone else was asleep. There was something so thrilling about it.

We crossed a small roundabout onto The Strand which was a man-made area with the marina on either side of it. This area looked expensive and I could see why Sasha had picked it. It was very secluded and couldn't be used by through traffic due to the barriers across the road entrance. To enter the area by car you'd need a key card, but we were on foot and just walked under the barrier. This was where the rich people holidayed or rented their swanky marine-front homes out to the people who wanted to pretend they were richer than they were for a week or two.

The road came to a junction with large houses to the left and right. The houses were three or four stories high and some had private access to a jetty where their expensive boats were moored up. I guessed that some of the houses had been turned into apartments for holiday rentals, but some were privately owned.

"This way," said Sasha. "Fingers crossed that it's still owned by the same people and that it's empty."

We turned left onto Trafalgar Gate and kept walking as though we belonged there. I doubted that anyone would be looking out of the window at this time of the morning, but it paid to be vigilant. Most of the driveways were well kept, but Sasha headed for one which wasn't. There were weeds growing through the block paving as though no one had been maintaining the property.

We were both looking the place over like a couple of burglars casing the joint. All the lights were out and there was no condensation on the windows. The lights being out wasn't unusual at three thirty in the morning, but the lack of condensation meant that the heating must have been switched off. It was the depths of winter and there was no way someone would be staying in there without heating. It looked empty.

"I've stayed here with Melody a couple of times," she said as we approached the front door. "Apparently, the owner is some rich Russian guy who only visits twice a year. He rents it out for the rest of the time to his friends and relatives, but only during the summer."

"That's great, but how do we get in? Have you got a key?" I asked, checking that we weren't being watched.

Sasha moved over to a large plant pot and lifted it up with one hand. She reached underneath it and to my amazement, she produced a key for the front door.

"I do now," she giggled quietly, with a big smile on her face. "The owner leaves the key for his guests so they can let themselves in. It saves him having to pay an agency to look after the keys while he's away. It would be rude of us not to take advantage of his laziness and hospitality."

"What about a burglar alarm?" I pointed out.

"He never used to have one, for the same reason. If he's had one installed since I was last here, we'll have to make a run for it."

I looked up for an alarm box on the front of the building, but I couldn't see one. That didn't mean that it didn't have an alarm, but it was a good start. Sasha took a deep breath and turned the key in the lock. After a quick push, we both waited for a burst of noise and flashing lights, but none came.

"See," she smirked. "We're in."

She pushed into the house and I followed her in before closing the door quietly behind us. Getting into a crouch we both stayed quiet and took in the surroundings. The house was deathly quiet and lacked the feeling of human presence. It smelt musty as though it had been shut up for a while, but I wouldn't be able to settle until I'd searched every room.

"We need to make sure it's empty," I whispered. "I'll check down here and you check upstairs."

She nodded and tiptoed up the stairs as I checked the kitchen. My heart was pounding and my mouth felt dry. If there was a Russian or a member of his family in here, we'd soon find out. The kitchen was empty and there were no pots on the draining board. It didn't look lived in so I moved on to the lounge.

That was the same and so was the dining room. The view out of the back patio opened out onto a private garden and jetty, but there was no boat moored up. Maybe his Russian wallet wouldn't stretch that far - the house must have been at least a million on its own.

Suddenly, I heard a dull thud from the hallway and I froze to the spot.

I didn't know if someone had woken up or if it was Sasha coming back down the stairs. I wanted to call out to her, but I knew that would be a bad idea. Instead, I moved back through the kitchen, picking up a large knife from the block as I went through. I didn't want to kill whoever might be living here, but I needed something to threaten them with.

I stayed still and listened, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prickle up.

I heard another bang from the hallway followed by a click and then all the lights came on around me. I dropped behind the kitchen island, squinting in the bright light. Someone had flicked the main circuit breaker on and I heard footsteps entering the kitchen.

My heart was in my mouth and I broke out into a cold sweat. Adrenaline filled my body at an alarming rate as I gripped harder on the knife handle.

Suddenly, I heard a voice.

"Becca? Where the fuck are you?" said Sasha, appearing in front of me with a big smile on her face.

I let out a sigh of relief and stood up in front of her, placing the knife onto the worktop.

"For fucks sake, Sasha," I gasped. "I thought someone else was here. You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," she beamed. "There's no one here but us. I told you it would be alright. We can relax for now. We just need to keep the noise down."

She had a mischievous look on her face as though she'd done something naughty and was very proud of it.

"I've put the power on," she continued. "This place has a combi boiler so I'm going to have a hot shower and wash the filthy spunk out of my hair."

"I'll go in after you," I replied. "I'll see if there's anything to eat."

"And drink," she laughed over her shoulder as she left the room. "Champagne would be nice. We need to celebrate our freedom."

"I'll see what I can find."

Sasha skipped off up the stairs as I went foraging in the brightly lit kitchen. Now that the lights were on, I could see how swanky the house was. The kitchen was very modern and minimalistic. It was more of a fashion statement or a symbol of opulence, but it did look like it had been used. Maybe the Russian who owned it liked to show off his culinary skills to his guests. I moved over to the fridge and I was delighted to find it well stocked with wine, but no food. I then checked the freezer section next to it. It was full of ice cream and pizzas. Living a healthy lifestyle obviously wasn't on people's agendas when they came here on holiday. The food must have been left over from the previous occupants before heading home to Russia.

I threw a pizza into the large expensive-looking oven and switched it on before searching for some glasses and a cork screw. I heard the shower running upstairs and imagined how nice it was going to feel to jump in after she'd finished and wash the dried cum from my hair and body. My entire body felt dirty and clammy after the orgy and I was itching all over. I smiled to myself at how far I'd come since the day I'd been arrested. It had been a roller coaster so far and it was far from over, but this down time with Sasha in an expensive house was exactly what I needed.

I needed to take on food and get myself prepared for the next steps, but first it was time to enjoy ourselves, if only for our own sanity. After being locked up and being deprived of the simplest of luxuries, all I wanted to do was flop down on the leather sofa and enjoy the feeling of a soft cushion against me. The plastic chairs in Bronzefield were functional, but very uncomfortable. I opened the wine and poured two glasses out, enjoying the sound of the liquid sloshing into the glass. Even the small detail of a glass rather than a plastic beaker made a world of difference. I took my first small sip of heaven and savoured the fruity flavours before swallowing it down.

Leaving the pizza cooking in the oven, I placed my glass down and went in search of Sasha. I kicked my shoes off onto the wooden floor of the hallway and ran up the carpeted staircase. Even the feel of a soft warm carpet was like sensory bliss.

I found a trail of clothing leading from the landing to one of the bedrooms and I followed it into the nearest room. The smell of minty shower gel and coconut shampoo hit me like a wall as I stepped over her coat, fleece and jeans and walked towards the en suite bathroom. Steam was pouring out of the half open door and I stuck my head in to see if she was done.

The bathroom looked as expensive as the kitchen and was decorated in large white tiles. The shower cubicle was big enough for three people and I could see Sasha's sexy body through the steamed-up glass. She was standing under the cascade with her eyes closed and her head back. It was obvious that she was just enjoying the hot water without the worry of being beaten up or molested in the shower.

"I've found wine and pizza," I said. "Let the good times roll."

My presence startled her and made her jump. I smirked as her boobs jiggled and she instinctively covered them up and stared out at me.

"Oh. My. God. Becca, you have to try this shower. It's sooooooo gorgeous," she cooed. "I feel like a new woman."

"I will if you hurry up and get out," I laughed.

She looked so sexy with her glistening soapy body, but I knew what she'd been through tonight and I didn't want to push her into anything.

"I'm nearly done," she replied. "I'll leave the water running for you."

I took my hoody and T-shirt off and threw them out of the door to join hers. My jeans quickly followed and I stood naked in front of her as she rinsed her hair. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes. She wasn't as toned as me, but she was definitely in shape. Her puffy hamster cheeks and long blonde hair gave her a beautiful innocence. I knew how old she was, but she appeared much younger. Her tits were large and round and looked fake even though I knew they were real. Her skin was pale which made her nipples and areola look darker in contrast. I carried on staring at her as she kept her eyes closed to stop the soap from washing into them. Her hips and ass gave her a nice hourglass shape without making her look fat and they gave way to her strong thighs and dainty feet.

Her hands swept the water from her face and down over her boobs as she caught me staring.

"Sorry," she apologised, shyly. "I'm just enjoying the hot water. It feels amazing compare to the luke-warm showers of Bronze."

"Take your time," I replied. "There's no rush."

She obviously didn't want to delay me any further and stepped out of the shower dripping wet. She made no attempt to cover herself now and had a wry smile on her face as she glanced at my nakedness.

'It's all yours," she said. "Even the shampoo feels gorgeous."

I deliberately brushed past her, rubbing my breasts against her arm as she exited the shower. I wanted to fuck this girl and show her that sex could be loving and gentle rather than the rapey violence she'd experienced a few hours ago. The decision had to be hers, but I wanted her to know that I was attracted to her.

"You have an amazing sexy body," I said, testing the water with my hand before walking under the torrent.

"Thanks," she replied wrapping a large fluffy towel around her. "I'm not a fitness model like you and Naomi, but I do ok."

"I'd say more than ok," I gargled, closing my eyes and allowing the water to wash into my mouth.

I kept my eyes closed and just enjoyed the water washing away my sins. I'd been raped and abused by twenty-seven men. Twenty-seven rapists who were now dead thanks to The Crow's handy work. Spunk coated every inch of my body both inside and out and although I loved sperm all over me, I couldn't wait to get cleaned up and relax on the sofa with a glass of wine and some pizza.

When I opened my eyes, Sasha was gone. I heard her searching the wardrobes for something to wear and felt a little disappointed that my advances and compliments had gone unrewarded. I washed my hair twice to get the cotted mess of semen out of it and then moved on to my more intimate areas. My breasts felt flaky as the dried cum dissolved and ran down my body. I used the minty shower gel to scrub myself clean which made my skin tingle. Eventually, I worked my way down to the heart of my being and used my fingers to spread myself open. I took the showerhead from the riser and sprayed it upwards into my pussy.

A shudder went up my spine, starting at my over-sensitive clit and spreading upwards like an electric shock. My fingers wormed their way into every crevice and eventually slid into my vagina as I scooped out whatever rape-juice was left inside me. Gloopy jizz ran down my legs as I pushed out as much of it as I could and then moved on to my other fuck hole.

I knew that I hadn't eaten enough for my ass to be full of anything other than cum so I decided to squat down and push it out. I placed the shower head back on the riser and got onto my haunches. I hoped that Sasha didn't put her head round the doorframe to see me shitting what felt like a pint of cum out of my anus and onto the shower tray below me.

Squuueeeellcccchhh. Prrrrpppppppp.

Runny semen left my body and ended in a quiet, bubbly fart as the last of it dripped onto the floor. I took a quick pee while I was there and washed the whole lot down the plughole before hosing myself down one last time.

I stepped out of the shower feeling like a new woman and switched the water off.

"There's a robe on the bed for you," said Sasha from the bedroom. "I'll go and check on the pizza."

"Thanks. I'll be there in a minute."

After quickly drying off and towelling my hair dry, I ran a brush through it and went back into the bedroom. There was a white robe on the bed and Sasha had put all of our clothes into a pile in the corner. At first I couldn't see why she'd done it, we'd be needing them again in the morning, but then I realised why she'd done it. The wardrobe doors were still open, displaying a vast array of women's clothing. Whoever owned this place must have been used to female company and knew that a girl needed a change of clothes. Either that or a young girl had been staying here on a regular basis. I had visions of a fat Russian guy enticing girls back to his million-pound home for a good fucking. Maybe he was some sort of sugar-daddy for the local sluts. Whatever the reason, we would be able to help ourselves to something clean to wear in the morning, rather than putting our charity offerings back on.

I slipped my robe on, tied it loosely at the front and went down to find Sasha.

As I got to the bottom of the stairs the smell of freshly cooked pizza filled my nostrils and it made my stomach churn in anticipation. Other than a gallon of cum, I'd had very little to eat since seven o'clock and I was now famished. Sasha was standing in the kitchen, cutting up the pizza into slices and placing them onto plates.

"I was about to call you," she said glancing up at me. "How was the shower?"

"Heavenly," I swooned. "It's nice to be able to enjoy a long soak rather than watch my back in case The Sisterhood decided to have another go at me."

"I know what you mean," she replied. "Bring your plate and wine. Dinner is served."