Big Booty Bitches Ch. 39

Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All names of characters are fictional and were made up. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.

******************

Miami Beach, Florida

An overcast of clouds blocked the rays of sunlight across a sky that was blue only hours prior. Wind rustled through palm trees in the distance as the usual number of people walked the paved blocks of sidewalk. Their voices were muted for one woman with a pair of wireless earbuds nestled in her ears. Her black hair was pinned in a high ponytail to reveal a small tattoo on the back of her neck for anyone to possibly see from behind her. A black shirt went with a matching leather jacket. Every curve of the woman's muscular legs was visible thanks to a pair of stonewashed blue jeans. High-heel pumps were the final piece to make up this casual outfit. Vida Guerra found herself strutting her hips out in South Beach as if she did not have a care in the world.

In her ears, she could hear a synthesized flute playing the intro to an old song. Her iPhone was shoved into her right pocket. The zipper of her leather jacket was undone as she clutched her black leather Gucci purse tucked under her right shoulder. She wore sunglasses earlier in the day when she first set out for lunch. Horns and guitars entered the musical mix, filling her ears. A smile ran across her pink lips as she noticed some of the pedestrians looking in her direction. One man gave a nod to her. A friendly look from a stranger was enough to make her smile in return. She doubted he recognized her as a famous model, but that did not matter to Vida. The voice of Peter Gabriel greeted her through the earbuds as the song intro moved into the first verse of his old hit 'Sledgehammer'.

"You could have a stream train... If you'd just lay down your tracks.

You could have an aeroplane flying... If you bring your blue sky back.

All you do is call me. I'll be anything you need."

The trumpets played the familiar riffs as the song shifted into the next verse. Vida continued to strut her hips, walking in sync with the beat of the song. She was in a good mood today after going out for lunch by herself. Nothing could bother her on this fine day as she took the long journey back to her condo. A long walk made up for not going to the gym last week. Now that she was stuck in Miami, she had to find other things to do outside of the career activities of what little was left of her modeling career. A month had passed since that unforgettable night she shared with one particular vice squad detective she had a history with. Detective Miguel Martinez had put mortal fear into her heart with his warning for her not to leave town. She knew he was more than capable of keeping tabs on someone like her and watching her every move.

That incident was a life-changing event for her. Miguel had not contacted her since leaving her naked and stranded in South Beach sands, but that did not mean he was not out there watching. As the days progressed, Vida could feel his presence whenever she was out and about. Anytime she saw a white sports car, she had to do a doubletake to make sure it was not his F8 Tributo. There were times she thought she saw the car in traffic, only to be mistaken for a different one. It was as if her mind was playing tricks on her through a game of endless paranoia. After a week of isolating herself behind the locked door of her condo apartment, Vida made the decision to fight back. The fear of that man was not going to take over her life. Her first decision was to buy cheap, disposable cellphones to use as burners. She used one to call a friend in town she knew had spare weapons. She paid him in cash for a personal handgun and enough rounds to fill two clips.

"I wanna be your sledgehammer! Why don't you call my name?

Ah, you'd better call the sledgehammer! Put your mind at rest."

The song had ended several minutes ago by the time she stepped through the front doors of the condo. The air-conditioned lobby was a welcome relief for anyone who had spent more than an hour outside in the afternoon heat. Her heels clicked and clacked loudly across the marble floor as she marched to an open elevator. Once inside, she pressed the button for her proper floor. When the doors shut, she finally decided to take out the wireless earbuds. She had listened to more than enough music to last the rest of the day. Vida always liked to be focused and prepared for anything unexpected when venturing back to her apartment. She shoved the earbuds into her purse before the elevator doors opened. The hall was empty. Sunlight glared out of an uncovered window down the hall, illuminating the faded white wallpaper.

Carpet flooring muted the sound of her heels into subtle bumps. Vida took her time walking to her room. All the doors were white, with a small peephole directly above the decorative gold-plated numbers. As she stopped at the door, she brushed her right hand over her hip. No one could see the concealed holster for her Glock handgun underneath her black leather jacket. That was the only reason she went out in public with a jacket. Her eyes shifted to the left side of the hallway, then gazing down the opposite side as her left hand fiddled with the keyring from her pocket. She kept her right hand resting on the gun, prepared to pull it out of the holster if necessary, while her other hand shoved the key into the door and turned the lock. So far, so good; there was no one there but her. When the door unlocked, she turned the knob and entered her apartment.

Her heels boomed loudly across the wooden floor. The first thing she always did was shut the door behind her and flick the light switch. She turned around and locked the door, as had become routine at this point. Her home was undisturbed, with no unwanted guests. Vida pulled the gun out of the holster as she began to step into the living room. A white rug sat under a wooden refectory table, facing a gray couch. A few magazines and an empty bottle of water sat on the glass surface of that table. Vida carefully placed her gun and purse onto the table with a subtle clank sound. She was now free to take off her jacket and sling it onto the empty couch. It was time to venture into her bedroom now and unwind in the silence of her home. Now that she was home, Vida was able to relax and not think about the undercover psycho cop out in the city.

During this month of isolation, she had become lonely. The only contact Vida had with anyone she knew was her friend, whom she bought her gun from. She did not tell him why she suddenly needed a firearm for protection. As the days passed by, she felt as if she were stuck in a small world all by herself. In the past, when she was in rough spots like this, she could turn to Steven. Everything felt wrong with how he had disappeared and seemingly vanished in thin air. Even if he was out there somewhere, Vida had to worry about Miguel going after him. One of the reasons she felt cornered was how the detective was using her as a wedge between not only Steven but Tony as well. It did not matter that his superiors closed the case. Vida knew what kind of man Miguel was. He was bound and determined to take down Steven or perhaps Tony.

She wondered what would happen if Steven suddenly showed up out of the blue back in town. Vida figured that would be enough for Miguel to reveal himself. He was out there somewhere, lurking in the shadows and keeping her under surveillance. She was sure of this, despite the paranoia within her mind. One of her greatest regrets was planting the wiretap bugs on Tony's yacht. Nothing had come out of it, but it was still something she had to think about when she was awake every other sleepless night. Vida was unsure how she could even confess her crimes to Tony or Steven. How could she look at them and admit to what she had done? So many regrets left her with feelings of resentment. If only she could right the wrongs and make up for those mistakes. Steven had to be out there somewhere. If he ever did come back, there was so much she wanted to tell him about.

There was no use in going after the past. So many what-ifs. So many could've, would've, and should'ves to make up a lifetime of regrets. Wherever Steven had gone, Vida knew there had to be other reasons besides killing Carlos. If he did show up in town, she felt it was up to her to find him before Miguel. The only way she could redeem her past mistakes would be to prevent this glory-chasing cop from having his moment of fame. If Tony and Antonio did not know where he was, then Vida had no idea where to look. He could have left Florida for all they knew and disappeared with someone else. As she lay on the bed, gazing up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan, Vida began to think about the other Diaz men. Tony seemed happily reunited with Jennifer Lopez. Then there was his son Antonio, working as a club manager like his father wanted. Their futures were at stake with someone like Miguel out to get them.

The longer she thought about them, Vida began to reminisce about the good times. She gleefully remembered the day she seduced Antonio. A devious smile ran across her lips, as she could still vividly recall the details of that day. Antonio was so easy to have wrapped around her finger. The young man had proven himself to be skilled at eating pussy. The mere thought of that day was enough to make her wet. He was the first and only man she had taken up to her condo home. He watched her swim at the private pool before she seduced him and enjoyed a day of hard fucking under the sun. Antonio looked so surprised when she visited the club searching for Steven last month. Perhaps it was time to dig her fingers into that young man again and see if he was still capable of serving her. She could not bring him back to this apartment. If anything, she would have to convince him to take her back to whatever place he called home. There was more than enough time for her to figure out a plan before nightfall.

******************

Thunder crackled from outside the tall building. The forecast had called for a day of heavy rain leading into the night. That was of no concern to Antonio as he sat in the living room, enjoying the company of Abigail Ratchford. This was yet another day he sat around shirtless in a pair of leisure shorts, wasting away hours with the bombshell glamour model. Despite the intimate feelings he had for Demi, Antonio felt he could trust Abigail with certain secrets about his family and their past. Her curiosity was sparked when Antonio thought he recognized his uncle Steven in photographs printed in a gossip magazine. He seemed so sure of the man's identity yesterday. Abigail wanted to learn more, as she found it interesting that one of his relatives would be in the same social circles as Kim Kardashian.

That led Antonio to tell her about his father and the relationship he had with Jennifer Lopez. Abigail seemed impressed, wanting to hear more. After breakfast and a shower, he spent the morning telling her old tales of events that happened at the club. Old stories about famous women he had affairs with and the others that his father and uncle knew. Her reactions were priceless. Antonio grinned every time Abigail gasped and made her eyes big at another confession. Apart from Jennifer, he broke down his one-night stand birthday with Britney Spears. Some details were left out in his retelling of the story, but she did not seem interested in that one. He skipped over telling her about his time with Khloe Kardashian. It was not until he mentioned the name of Kate Upton that Abigail's jaw fell in complete shock.

"Oh my god! Seriously? You banged Kate Upton!?"

That reaction was something he would never forget. All he did was nod his head to her and begin telling Abigail the story of how his uncle Steven invited him to join in for a special threesome. Abigail teased him, saying that the more he told her these stories, the more she became interested in this other man. She had already teased him about that yesterday. The tale of a threesome between uncle and nephew sparked her imagination. As he sat on the couch, Abigail marched in front of him. She made sure to capture his attention with only a skimpy outfit to partially cover her body. Her long, jet-black hair flowed over her shoulders. Her heavy breasts looked as if they were about to pop out of a white bikini top tied too tightly. A black thong covered her pussy, yet Antonio could still see a visible wet spot in the front.

"What do you think of this outfit? This is the closest I can get to looking like Kate with the few outfits I have here."

Antonio laughed.

"You don't have to try and look like her, babe. There's no other woman like you."

"I still can't believe you fucked her with your uncle. That sounded sooooo hot. I wish I could've been there to watch."

Her voice rose to a high pitch in those final words. A small hint of how horny she was for him.

"You did fuck her tits, right? I mean, it's Kate Upton! I imagine every guy who's ever been with her is thinking about perfect, big tits wrapped around their cock."

He nodded while grinning.

"Oh, yeah. My uncle made sure she put those tits to use on both of us. He told her that I was his son. She called him papi, it was real funny."

Abigail bit her lower lip as she planted her hands on her hips. Antonio knew that look on her face. She was having naughty thoughts as he continued to feed her ideas for what to do. Demi was still gone, leaving him with plenty of time to share new experiences with Abigail.

"What are you thinking about, babe? Kate's tits or something else?"

His words made Abigail glare at him with her piercing emerald eyes. She raised her hands and pushed her fingers together before lacing them together.

"I'm thinking about tits, yes. But I'm thinking about someone else with a huge rack besides Kate."

"Demi?"

She shook her head as she began giggling at him.

"Nope! You've already had her tits. At least I'd think you've had them wrapped around your cock at least once or twice. I've got to say, I'm pretty impressed you managed to nail Kate. She was a real inspiration when I first got started modeling. I did a photo shoot a few years ago paying tribute to her Fourth of July shoot. You know, the one with her sucking on the popsicle?"

"Oh, yeah. I know the one. I also know she sucked on my popsicle that day."

Abigail smirked at him.

"Keep bragging, Antonio. You aren't gonna make me jealous since I've had you myself. I knew there was something special about you, though. I've never met a man who fucked Kate Upton, so that really surprised me. I keep thinking about this, so I guess I'll be dreaming about watching you fuck her."

She flashed her teeth and burst out laughing. That made Antonio blush before he giggled with her.

"You didn't tell me who you were thinking about."

With a smirk, she stepped forward. Abigail pushed her hands down onto his knees and leaned into his face. She watched his eyes shift, gazing at the cleavage merely inches away from his face as she breathed on him. The scent of her peach perfume nearly overwhelmed him. Abigail spoke to him in a low voice, almost whispering.

"What if I told you I have a friend who has bigger tits than Kate Upton? Would you believe me?

"Maybe."

"I don't have a reason to lie about this. My friend is Lindsey Pelas. I'm sure you've heard of her before, yes?"

"Yeah, I know who you're talking about. I've seen her photos online. She's pretty damn hot and has huge boobs."

"Mmmmhhhhhhmmmm. She has bigger tits than Kate. Way bigger! They're freaking huge! I'm sure you would love them if you ever got up close and personal with her."

Before Antonio had a chance to respond, Abigail pressed her lips against his and began kissing him passionately. He moaned into her mouth and suddenly felt her hands pushing down on his legs. Abigail wasted no time straddling him before she nestled her thick booty into his lap. Their tongues danced together as they moaned into each other's mouths. He could feel the fabric of her bikini top rubbing against his bare chest, with her plump breasts begging to be freed from the tight constraints. She managed to get his blood pumping and his heart racing in excitement. After breaking the kiss, Abigail climbed off him and stood up. Anthony was confused by how quickly she got off him.

"Save your energy. If Lindsey likes you, then you're gonna need everything you've got to handle us both. It's been a long time since I had a threesome with her. We know how to wear a man out as a tag team."

She turned her back to him before walking out of the room. Antonio was left sitting there on the couch, watching her thick ass cheeks rub against each other with each step she took. He sighed in disappointment since Abigail did not want to engage in a quick fuck. For all that talk about tittyfucking, he would have enjoyed getting to fuck her tits before meeting another girl. Yet still, he could not complain about this situation. The thought had not even crossed his mind that Abigail could introduce him to another woman, just as Demi had done the same with her. It all came from his confessions about other famous women Abigail seemed inspired to be like. The chance of meeting Lindsey Pelas was something he could not pass up. Abigail seemed confident in her own right that this would lead to an everlasting memory the three of them would never forget.

******************

Los Angeles, California

Fluorescent lamps ran across the ceiling to illuminate a dark corridor. The rectangular shapes of the lights radiated a dim hue to reveal the black concrete walls. Cold air filtered from events throughout this underground facility where sunlight could not be seen. Down the hall, a row of small rooms with locked, barred doors resembling prison cells. The same dim lights were embedded into the ceilings of these cells. All of them contained the proper necessities to make up a prison cell. A metal toilet and sink combo sat in the far left corner. On the opposite side was a basic mattress with cotton sheets, a white blanket, and a pillow to make a minimalistic bed. A metal link post was embedded directly above the headrest of the bed, with a chain dangling down to the bed. Similar posts were drilled into the wall opposite the barred metal door.

Throughout the days and nights, heavy breathing and the sounds of screaming could be heard echoing down the long hall of this hell hole. One man sat on his knees within a cell. His arms were spread, both locked in wrist cuffs dangling from chains connected to a post high in the wall. A shiny, silver metal collar was locked around his neck. In the front of the collar was a thick metal ring attached to a chain that dangled to the floor. The back of the collar was engraved with the words 'Property of KoKo' in deep black letters. Every letter was visible from the back due to the man's lack of hair. It was protocol for every man who was sentenced to this place to have all of his hair removed. The baldness made them all look the same as men by the time they were in the same room with one another. Only three women knew the total number of men who were collared and chained at any given time in this prison.

When Steven Diaz awoke to find himself in this dark place, he was unsure if this was a bad dream or purgatory. He thought he was truly dead at first until he felt the pain of bruises on his naked body and face. When he looked up, his eyes met the sight of Kim Kardashian standing tall in knee-high leather boots. A black corset covered her chest, which matched the boots and her dark hair. She curled her lips into a sinister grin while tapping the end of a riding crop into the palm of her left hand. This may not have been hell in the literal sense, but it would prove to be a fate worse than death in the following days. Kim wasted no time picking up where Sean had left off in beating him. Her heavy boots bruised his stomach with several hard kicks. She commanded her guards to enter the chamber wearing strange black robes and black ski masks. They dragged Steven into another room to begin the protocol for his enslavement. A ballgag was fastened over his mouth as Kim forced him onto his knees. She had the honor of shaving his head and face with an electric razor.