Not Quite a White Knight Pt. 03

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Both surprised. Gracie rides sex horse, plus lots more sex.
16.3k words
4.78
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Part 3 of the 37 part series

Updated 04/05/2024
Created 07/07/2018
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Sunday

This flows directly from Part 02.

A busy day for the couple. Chapter 14 has the third piece of equipment. There is also sex in chapters 15, 16, 17 and 18. After that there was no rest for the wicked.

Chapter 12. Rise and Shine

When the alarm clock went off Abril was sleeping on my arm. She despises all alarm clocks, but she hates somebody waking her even more, so she settled for it. With me watching she did her "cranky kitten" act as she got up, turned off the alarm, tore off her nightshirt, which was her only clothing, then pranced around the room bare-ass, posing with a grumpy look on her face while making sure she showed off her outstanding booty and everything else in the most attractive way she could. That included very high kicks and the old 'hold up the wonderful boobies' pose.

After her show she looked towards the bed for my reaction; she expected a unique form of applause. I knew what she wanted, so I removed the covers hiding my crotch. I was in extremely light PJ shorts, my cock tented my shorts to the max. It was demonstrated appreciation, in a form Abril's live-in girlfriend could not give her.

Abril's frown turned upside down. That quickly she switched to "happy kitty" and gave an encore of the prancing, which she was sure I appreciated.

This was a job for her. I was the boss. We both stressed that to others. But in private we played it like a brother and sister who happened to share a bed "like the old days" when she was happy. She did not want to screw me and she knew I would not screw her without serious need or an ardent and sincere request. But we were not really brother and sister so she liked "the most sincere applause" to her very attractive body. Thus we played this, her favorite morning game.

The things I do to keep my people happy.

Satisfied with my demonstration of unmet desire, she flounced to her bedroom where her clothes were. She was in such a good mood that she sang in Spanish and made me a spicy Mexican breakfast. She was raised right, she even cleaned up after. I asked her to thank her mother for me, for raising such a fine cook. This was a twofer compliment, Abril was thrilled.

She had done an excellent job at the party last night, charming the oh-so-white men and their women yet keeping her behavior on the right side of the line. She had done right by me also, we cuddled, she was affectionate and allowed my hands wherever I wished, but took it as appreciation, not a come on. I praised and respected her with my hands on her body; it is a skill. I wanted to let her know I appreciated everything, including her fine womanhood which I could never taste, so I'm sure my hands gave her the inspiration for some very naughty dreams. She admitted she got the best naughty dreams sleeping with me.

Since she was so good at the party, when we were ready to leave I flipped her the keys to the Porsche and her smile grew to outshine the sun. I had a black 911, it looked like one of the most popular combinations on the road in that price range. The NoZ tanks in the back said something different, but right now they were locked shut. To Abril, driving this car was better than sex, plus it marked a new level of trust and appreciation between us. She had driven the car only twice, both times on a closed track; this was the first time on the streets. I figured Sunday morning traffic gave us a good chance of survival.

I knew better than to tell her to take it easy. She obeyed the speed limits on the straights, tested us on the turns and stretched out her near-orgasm experience to 20 minutes as she drove the long way home.

She did not drive to the apartment building where we both lived, but pulled into the parking structure 2 blocks away. There was a overhead walkway to the Pablo Apartment's parking structure and then a tunnel for her walk to the apartment building, all covered by security cameras. Still, she was so happy she almost kissed me when she gave back the keys.

-

I drove to the Batcave where I swapped the Porsche for the old pickup truck, a 1989 S-10 extended cab that looked like a workman's truck ("Aaaabee HVAC Service") with a cap on the box and an overhead rack holding a ladder. The body showed rust and dents appropriate to it's age and apparent use. Underneath things were different, The frame was reinforced, the drivetrain was pristine and there was a Corvette V8 under the hood. The oversize tires are a giveaway, but who looks at tires?

First stop was the welder/diver, who had what I wanted. I overpaid with a smile. Next was a diner for food and some Sunday newspapers. My last stop was a medical research lab; I knew a guy who mixed me up some wizard experimental super glue for medical purposes, it stuck to skin for 48 hours, give or take 4 hours, then came right off. The solvent was micro-encapsulated in the glue. But the mixture had to be applied exactly 2 hours after the stuff was mixed. He did the mix while I watched. I was on the clock. Then I was off to the Fort and the manifest wonders of Gracie's body.

I had been away for about 16 hours, the largest part of that with Abril and her sexy body. Abril may not be interested in me as a lover, but her Spanish blood makes her jealous as hell. She would not be pleased to know that all that time she was acting as a teaser for me, providing pheromones and stimulation to get my balls working overtime for the next woman. Gracie was going to get all the benefit, I expected to spend at least 20 hours with her, using her body for my pleasure whenever and however the mood took me. Because of the stops I made, that would be a lot easier than it had been, and I would have more very pleasant options.

-

Gracie was waiting, she had showered and was naked, reading a book while drinking tea when I arrived. I had been away a long time, but she learned yesterday's lesson well. So she was happy to hear my voice and acted like it. Over the intercom I asked Gracie to slip the bag on, but to leave it untaped as I would just be a moment. I brought in her food and the newspapers, then left her to deal with both.

Our story of Friday night's gang violence and carnage made the front page below the fold. They really could not do good pictures of the carnage, there was too much blood and guts. But they ran the story, showed the outside of the building and speculated about how three young men (no mention of Cosmo or a female) were hacked to death and beyond without a hint of who did it. Somebody suggested it was a hit by professional. Gracie dove into it while eating - this was her they were talking about, and her body would have been there, with her best high school picture above the fold, if I did not come along.

The writer could not help himself, he speculated with his language that the attackers were black. Also he mentioned about the bodies being naked and the presence of woman's clothing; the fool actually hinted at cross-dressing games and sodomy on the down-low. The insult was sure to earn him a contract on his life with special enhancements, assuming the Black Kings survived the next week or two. The papers did reference the gang colors on the bodies and different tags, making the message clear to those that knew: these boys were caught in the wrong place with their pants down. No specific gangs were named, and the 49 tags were not shown (they were obvious), that was policy; but those who mattered knew who was involved so our stock went up. Because it was such a rich story and they had time to write every angle it made the front page despite the low body count.

I let Gracie take it all in at her own pace, she really had not seen anything. But she knew it could be her story.

The story about the hit on the Black King command group (body count: 6 dead Kings - but not the Warlord, 2 wounded non-Kings escaped) was in another section, so it was officially unrelated and Gracie did not make the connection. I was also pleased that no civilian casualties were mentioned, those can be poison. Despite the higher body count and the public location there was really nothing unusual or newsworthy about one street gang hitting another gang on the street. The factory hit (body count: 12 Black Kings dead, possible 3 non-Kings killed or wounded, removed from the scene based on what I saw on the dark web) was too late to make the paper. Since the police had that scene, the press would not get much.

-

Chapter 13. Shark Warning

After reading the paper Gracie said something was confusing and wanted to talk. I let her keep the bag on without tape.

"Look," Gracie said, "I am smart enough to know that you can't admit too much about the events when we met. But I got the impression that none of the folks I went into that basement with left that basement."

"I won't argue with that," I said. "I am sure the parts were removed by now."

"Yuck. But I am confused because the pictures in the paper today showed three black guys." They had published arrest mug shots of the hacked-up trio; they were not too out-of-date. "However, the pictures did not show the guy who met me at the mall and started the whole party going. I was confused about that."

That got my attention. "Are you sure about that? I know who was there."

"Yes I'm sure. Look, all three guys in the paper were real ugly, so I never would have talked to them. Plus, the one with the lip ring? The picture in the paper showed a hole on the right, not at the left corner. I did not recognize him. I recognized the other two from the car. But the guy who picked me up at the bookstore was kind of baby-faced handsome, and a real charmer. He had his lip ring on the left corner, plus a big diamond eyebrow ring on the right."

That comment twigged to a name for me, a damn critical one, so I had her start at the beginning.

Friday Gracie drove her car to a mall, it was not especially close to her home, but the bookstore she went to had the best selection of 'naughty' books like Penthouse Letters. She was browsing there when she met this man who was browsing the same section. They struck up a conversation. He was black, heavy set but not fat, about 5 foot 10, bald with the lip ring and the diamond eyebrow ring. (None of the guys in the basement had any eyebrow hardware.) They got to talking over coffee which he bought for her; she said his speech and references suggested he was in college, maybe grad school. When she mentioned that she was open to some fun, "maybe where guys didn't have to be real nice all the time," he suggested a party with two other "frat brothers" at a private spot he knew. When he said he would give her some "fun nose candy and Ex," she said yes, her mother-approved white boyfriends could not give her those extras. He texted somebody, got a text back, then led her to a car, an old Caddy in good shape with big silver spoked rims, which had the two guys in the back seat. The good-looking guy drove to the location. The backseat pair of guys were pictured in the paper, one was the tall guy and the second had dyed hair. So there were three guys in the car with her. Then, after they parked but before they got out of the car, they bagged her, saying there was a surprise involved. They had to lead her past a building or two plus they made two turns before they got to the stairs leading to the basement. They carried her downstairs.

"When we got there they did the cable ties quickly. Once my arms and legs were secure they all of a sudden got kind of nasty, it was like a switch was flipped as they were cutting off my nice clothes and talking about using me in real bad ways. There were three voices, I heard them distinctly as they moved around. But now that I think of it, only two people touched me between the car and the basement, there might have been somebody already there with the tools and stuff. Anyway, once I was secured and naked they stuck tapered tubes in to expand my front and back holes. Then they got naked, I heard them open their belts and stuff, and while they stripped they talked about doing real bad things to me. Dry ice was mentioned." She shivered at the memory, they had some really unspeakable ideas for her to think about. "The newspaper did not mention the tubes but they found the ice..."

"I removed the tubes. I don't know if LAPD has your DNA, but those tubes would have given it to them and that would be a problem for me; it was either leave you or take them. There was no car of any type in the area when we found you, but from what you said I know where the Caddy parked. So it looks like the guy who picked you up passed you off and drove away. The guy with the right-side lip ring took his place. I wonder... you know, the Sharks just might have planned to come back after you were decorated with lots of Black King DNA. If they killed the Kings themselves, and left some evidence blaming somebody else, there would be more gangs engaged in a more intense war." I knew who would get blamed. "I wonder... Now, I have to trust you a bit."

"What Sharks? You can trust me with anything," she said.

"Just keep the bag on."

I had to leave her and get something from a filing cabinet in the house, where I had some pictures. The trusting part was when I returned.

She still had the bag on when I came back - another test passed. I gave her something to look at, then left the room again. She looked at the 6-pack of pictures I had left, just like the cops use. They were all prison shots with no rings in place. Still, at first glance she picked out baby-faced Darnel, the Sunset Shark VP for Mayhem & Turmoil. He was a smooth charmer and a real bastard. I talked to Gracie on the intercom, I said I needed some time to think but that I would get back to her soon.

I called Jax and explained we had a serious problem, he was to go to def-con 2 for the apartment building, street dealers and secure locations. Plus assemble our SWAT unit to standby. However, I was not specific beyond that. Once those steps were in place I could think.

I had thought that the pain party Friday was a petty territorial insult by the Black Kings against the Crystal Aztexs, small-time because they were always fighting for territory. But the face Gracie had picked was a Sunset Shark VP who specialized in smooth-talking folks into things, and that made the situation much worse. It meant the Sharks were deliberately instigating a war which would involve and weaken everybody in the area. They were planning a big move. By now they probably had the remaining Black Kings acting on their behalf. It was the way the Sharks did things, they always had a bigger plan in the works, with more gang-on-gang battles of the "you and him fight" variety. When it was over they would move in and chew up both weakened combatants. Either that, or do a coup.

I channeled The Patron for a moment; grandfather would ask, "why do you not plot to take over the Sharks?" But the answer to that was that the Sharks were all psycho, in a bad way, and one of those (that was me) was enough for any gang. Plus, their presence kept the other gangs, including the big one that dressed as LAPD, to busy to hassle me.

One thing about the Sharks is that they never moved without recon and deep spies in place with all the gangs involved - that was a science they had down pat. They played the long game. They obviously knew the patrol route for Cosmo and I, which probably meant a 49 member had betrayed us. Not too many knew those specifics.

The thing was, I had made a last minute change in our route on Friday that probably saved my life. Simply put, when I parked I decided to walk South instead of North. On the patrols Wednesday and Thursday, I went North which meant we got to the store with the basement three hours later. By then the Sharks would have come back in numbers, killed the Black Kings, and then used Gracie to lure Cosmo and me into a trap. Bingo, three gangs at war, exactly the Shark style. But because I turned South on Friday we killed the Kings too early! The basement was under observation and crawling with Aztexs getting Cosmo's body and his ear collection when the Sharks returned. They could not get close to that.

After the two Aztex attacks Saturday, the Black Kings would never listen to a word the Aztexs said, so that war was already on. But because the Black Kings were weakened the Sharks needed a new strategy. The Sharks were probably feeding intel to the Kings now, effectively dictating their next move which would be a trap for somebody; heck, they were also probably feeding the wrong move to that somebody. That would probably be a win by the Kings against somebody weaker, sucking another gang into the war and causing more mayhem.

Then I recalled the Mustang that had shown up Friday, and the take-down I ordered.

For me the problem was that I could not even trust Jax, if I had been a target Jax might be the spy looking to step up. Right now my first priority was go "Crazy Ivan" (read Clancy's "Red October") and clear my own baffles. That meant a face-to-face with Jax in a safe location where I had control. Well, I had just the place in mind.

On my computer I texted Jax with three code words that called for a secure face-to-face meeting Wednesday night. It would not go as he expected.

He sent back his acknowledgment.

At this point I was in full paranoid mode. Outside of 49 I had three soldiers in LA I could trust, all cousins. My first "Crazy Ivan" test would be Uncle Toad. He lived in semi-retirement about 45 minutes from the apartments, on undeveloped land that was very isolated. I would pay him a surprise visit after some recon, at night. Fortunately, not even Uncle Toad knew about this Fort, so I was safe.

With that decided I made a quick call and put my cousin next door on alert. Then I called my other two cousins.

The calls were with an encrypted sat phone. That seems kind of silly to use such a device to make a call next door, especially when we would speak in a language known by only 5 people north on the Panama Canal, but that was the way we did things at this level of paranoia. The next two calls were the same.

We had a some time, if the Sharks were going to attack fast it would already be over. But 'fast' was never their style. However, they did have one time limit - in two weeks the autopsy on the hacked up Black Kings would probably show a drug to make them more suggestive, something Darnel has used in the past. That would get the police looking at the Sharks.

Also, because I had messed up their plans Friday the Sharks had step back to switch up their play. First they had to test their spies, to make sure they had not already been compromised. Even the Sharks were not dumb enough to keep going with a plan that had already failed. Meanwhile, the Black King losses on Saturday meant the Kings, who were indecisive by nature, now had no leaders except their Warlord - and he had a bunch of enemies inside the gang that the higher-ups always kept in line. Now, with the higher-ups gone, all the remaining dogs would try to move up. No doubt some of those dogs were secretly owned by the Sharks, but now those dogs had to worry about their peers and underlings, who might be ambitious, instead of their Shark masters. Also, the Black Kings needed some other help, since half their prime shooters were dead. Where the Black Kings had been a useful shock force for the Sharks, they were now at war with each other.

Letting the other gangs hit the Black Kings would not work now, instead the Sharks needed the Kings to ally with another strong gang, which meant first getting the Kings a leader who was not too independent or smart, then strengthening that leader's position by getting them to strike somebody, making a new ally of the enemy of whoever they struck. Maybe. Then they could get the new Kings leadership and their new ally to strike back at somebody, followed by chaos making everybody weaker.