Return of the Contract Killer Pt. 01

The man reeled back, and viscous liquid exploded from his nostrils. I saw that the man was The Squeeze, Uncle Vic's favorite muscle, and that I had broken his nose. Good. Squeeze couldn't go far as he'd grasped his weapon in a two-handed grip, and I kept his arms pinned as he staggered backward. I used my free left hand to grab his shirt and direct him further backward to the edge of the roof. Squeeze lost his footing and nearly fell, but I held him upright. I hooked my left foot around his right ankle to keep him off balance.

My mind raced. Clearly, Uncle Victor had Squeeze watching me. No... Victor liked to keep Squeezie and his ubiquitous Sudoku puzzles close at hand, so more likely, an underling or two had been following me around for the last week. The underling(s) must have called Squeeze when he (they?) saw that Cindy and I were on the move, and Squeeze had come running in the hopes of catching me red-handed in the process of butchering a pretty young whore. I grimaced. This also meant that Squeeze might not be alone; a few more of Uncle Victor's offal might be too close for comfort.

I couldn't take long here.

"Drop it," I said. I felt Squeeze's wrists wriggle and then go loose. The gun clattered when it hit the roof but didn't go off. I held my eyes on Squeeze's puffy red ones. "He got away, you idiot!" I all but snarled in the man's prodigious face.

He scoffed. "You mean, your buddy? I suppose I should say, 'You're welcome.'" Blood made his voice thick. He coughed, and I felt wet drops spatter my face.

I shot back at him: "Are you that stupid? No, it's just convenient to believe I'm with the Ripper, so you can shoot me in the back. Victor would probably give you a promotion." I shook him then continued. "Think about it. Do you really think I'd interrupt the Ripper in the middle of a murder and that he'd run from me if we were on the same side?"

"He... was running... from me," The Squeeze said, but I could tell he didn't believe his own words. At least, not as much as he wanted to.

"I should toss you off this roof, you blockheaded motherfucker," I said. I weighed the consequences. It wasn't that far of a drop. The most Squeeze would suffer was probably a few broken bones, and he had it coming. Downside? Uncle Victor wouldn't appreciate me breaking his right hand. That con outweighed any satisfaction I might feel in giving Squeeze something to think about.

The Squeeze read my mind and opened his mouth, "You wouldn't d—"

I shoved. To hell with the consequences. Mikey Tutone a.k.a. The Squeeze fell in surprised silence and made no sound except a loud clang when his neck hit the side of a metal dumpster and snapped. The reverberation of the Squeeze's death knell carried him to hell and echoed my doom throughout the alleyway.

Dumbfounded by the epic scope of my bad luck, I stood open-mouthed at the edge of the roof and looked upon the biblical disaster I had wrought. His head dangling at an impossible angle from his shoulders, Squeeze hung from the dumpster like a carelessly slung piece of garbage. Uncle Victor would want blood for blood. My blood. I said the only word that came to mind.

"Oops."

If I had learned one thing in my time as a contract killer, I learned my bad luck had no limit, and this case proved no exception. Two long, man-shaped shadows attached to likewise man-shaped figures appeared at the end of the alley and stopped with a start. One said, "What the hell?" They must have seen what was left of Squeeze.

The other glanced up and pointed in my direction. He called, "There he is! The Ripper!"

I ducked away from sight as the mens' guns spewed bullets in my direction. I guessed these men belonged to Uncle Victor. Like Squeeze, they shot first and asked questions later. Unlike Squeeze, they had not silenced their weapons which meant someone would hear and call the police, and the building would become even more crowded with unwelcome guests. I needed to make my exit.

I snatched the gun that Squeeze had dropped and moved away from the whiz of bullets. I considered my options. Victor's men would come from the access door. One may have already entered the building from the alley, the way that I had come, while the other attempted to pin me down. The Ripper couldn't have left through the stairwell, not without passing Squeeze, and since I refused to believe in magic, he must have escaped in another direction. I scanned the roof and threaded my way past the air conditioning units and ductwork. A wooden structure, a poorly-constructed shed which leaned a little too far to one side, held plastic tubs for storage but little else and no secret trap door, at least not from the quick glance that I could afford it. I moved on but didn't see anywhere to go. I tried not to let panic set in, but things were about to get hairy. I had two armed idiots heading my way, and the boys in blue would appear with blaring sirens and flashing lights at any moment.

I noticed that roof of the building to my left was relatively close and only a few feet lower than the one on which I stood. I went to the edge. I guessed there was about an eight foot gap between the buildings, a distance which I could jump. It'd be hell on my ankles but doable. A muffled voice approached, coming from behind the closed rooftop access door, and I knew I was out of time and options. I backed up to give myself a bit of a running start, hit the bricks as hard as I could, and launched myself off the roof.

Did I hear the rooftop access door swing open as I leapt? I prayed the darkness of night camouflaged my movements, and for a second, I only heard the wind whistling a dull, morbid tune through my ears. Then I landed hard, rolling into it as well as I could manage. I lost the gun. I banged my elbow against something hard. My knee splashed through a puddle of something wet. I came to an abrupt, teeth-crunching stop when I hit a large wooden box full of potting soil and dead plants, someone's sad attempt at a rooftop garden. I found my breath and pulled myself to my feet. I wondered how much sound my not-so-graceful landing had made. No one had shot at me yet, so there was that. However, I couldn't waste time banking on the fact that I hadn't been discovered. Pain would have to wait.

A weird ringing emanated in my heads, making my head throb, and I wondered if it was the echo of Mikey Tutone's neck clanging against the lip of a deadly dumpster. Finding all my appendages still attached, I counted my blessings and kept moving.

At the moment, I wanted to take the director of every action movie ever made which included a scene of someone leaping from one rooftop to another, and I wanted to kick each and every one of them in their celluloid-warped balls. If The Ripper had escaped this way, I figured he was a limber son of a bitch adept at parkour.

I found the gun I had dropped, made sure the safety was on, and shoved it into the waistline of my pants. I could hear at least one man's shoes crunching on the opposite roof. Based on his chattering, he was either talking to himself or on the phone. I kept to the shadows and moved as quietly as I could. As I searched for a way down, another action movie cliché´appeared before me— a metal fire escape. I shrugged, thinking this would be at least easier than my leap of faith, and began climbing it. Every step seemed to bring a rusty metallic screech that I feared would be heard by the man above me, but then the blessing and curse of the sound of sirens grew to cover them. With the police approaching at least Uncle Victor's men would also have to make themselves scarce. Finding that the ladder at the bottom of the fire escape had rusted shut, I dropped the last six feet or so to the ground. I knew my ankles would scream their displeasure at this abuse in the morning.

I came out of the alley into a side street, and a speeding car nearly flattened me. It braked with a squeal, its tires skidding on the pavement. I expected half a dozen goons to swing open the doors and pop out with guns blazing, but only the passenger window went down. I caught a flash of Cindy's red hair, and relief blew through me.

"Get in," she ordered, and I did just that.

***

Luckily, Cindy had managed to pull Chastity into the backseat of the car before Squeeze's men had come into the ally to see what was keeping him. The girl spent most of the ride to Cindy's apartment murmuring under her breath and sleeping off the drugs with which The Ripper had dosed her. I didn't fare much better.

When we arrived at Cindy's place, the first thing I did was treat myself to a hot shower to wash off the grim and blood and to clear my head. I tried to make sense of my eventful evening, but questions swirled around my head like the soapy water around the drain.

I remembered The Ripper's words: I know your face.

That made two of us. The Ripper looked much too like Simeon Dread for it to be a coincidence. What was the connection? Did The Ripper style himself after Dread or might there be a more personal reason?

I pushed the Dread connection aside and moved to a different set of questions.

Why had The Ripper attacked in the open and killed Chastity's client? Had he done so before and it been missed by the police? His previous killings had seemed to careful. Had he been stimulated by something either Chastity or her john had done?

My thoughts turned to Chastity. Why was The Ripper drawn to her type?

My mind's eye flashed to the curve of the girl's hips and the way she arched her back as she blew her client. I felt myself begin to harden but cut off these thoughts before they went too far. I leaned over and twisted the shower handle to the cold side. The change in temperature brought goosebumps but renewed focus.

What was The Ripper's connection to the building to which he had led me? He had left the door unlocked and must have planned to bring Chastity there. I also suspected he planned on disposing of the john's body there as well. How?

Something else bothered me. I didn't buy the idea that either Squeeze or his men had been following me and Cindy. I would have noticed. I refused to believe I was so rusty that I would not have picked up a tail, especially one lasting over multiple days. That meant someone had fed Uncle Vic, Squeeze, or one of his men information as to where Cindy and I were going or what we were doing. How? And who?

The answers were lost in the steam that fogged the shower stall and my thoughts. I gave up and focused on washing the gunk out my hair.

***

Cindy offered me a bed in the guest room, and I decided to take it. The longer I could avoid Uncle Victor, the more of a chance I had of wrapping my mind around the situation in which I had found myself before facing him. Tutone had died while following me, and the men with him should have notified Vic by now. My uncle would be chomping at the bit to get his hands around me, probably around my neck. But he'd wait to strangle me until after I'd answered his questions, at least.

Despite my concern about the near future, not long after I sank into Cindy's comfortable guest bed, I fell into a deep, mindless sleep. I didn't open my eyes again until fresh yellow sunlight filtered through the blinds and I felt the bed shift underneath someone's weight.

It was Cindy. Her hair hung at her shoulders, wine red against the pearl-white of the pillow, sheets, and comforter. A mischievous smile curled her lips, and wearing a silky ivory nightgown which clung to her in all the right places, Cynthia Skye crouched on all fours like a feline predator preparing to leap upon its hapless breakfast. From the corner of my eye, I saw Chastity standing at the end of bed. She looked none the worse for wear, considering last night's drugging and attempted murder. In contrast to Cindy, Chastity wore sheer black lingerie that left nothing to the imagination. Also, she wore fishnet stockings. I am not too proud to admit that I have a bit of a fishnet fetish. If I'd had morning wood already, it was now the erection equivalent of a redwood.

"Good morning," Cindy purred from the corner of the bed.

I blinked and said, "Am I dreaming?"

Cindy leaned forward and slid a milky arm under the comforter. Thankfully, she squeezed rather than pinched what she found straining there. Her touch sent dizzying shockwaves through my body, and I went tingly all over.

"If you are," Cindy said, "it's the kind where you wake up all sticky."

"I wanted to thank you," Chastity added, her voice naturally low and seductive. With her hand, she brushed a wave of long, dark hair from her face, and something about her made my manhood twitch in Cindy's hand. "For saving me. And Cindy, well..."

"I have some business I need to finish," Cindy said. She lifted the comforter and slid underneath it. I couldn't see her, but I had a feeling what she was doing, a feeling verified when I felt my erection fished from my boxers and then encased in something hot and wet. I sucked in air between my gnashed teeth while Cindy sucked something else between her pursed lips. The tent made by Cindy's head and shoulders under the comforter rhythmically began to move up and down. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. The woman was good. So very good. It didn't hurt that she was insanely hot, either.

When I opened my eyes, I found Chastity hovering above me. She'd lost her underwear, and she flashed an impish smile as she began to lower herself towards my mouth. She said, "Don't be lazy, dear. Be a good boy and lap it up."

Chastity sat on my face, and I did as I was told. She tasted wonderfully sweet. I moved my mouth to flick her clitoris with my tongue. Using two fingers, I delved into her, feeling her wetness thicken at my manipulations. She gasped, sighed, and began to wriggle above me, synching her body to my motions. This girl knew exactly what to do.

Naturally, I couldn't see Cindy, but my toes curled from the incredible oral assault with which she pleasured me. I felt her warm, moist mouth sliding up and down and stopping occasionally for her tongue to dart out and lash at my shaft. One of her hands cupped my balls; the other helped to stroke me through her skilled lips.

Just when I thought that neither Chastity nor I could take any more, the raven-haired woman lifted away from my face, and Cindy spat me out with a slobbery slurp.

"Let me get him into second gear for you, dear," Chastity said to Cindy, and she slid down my body backward. Her breasts rubbed against my chest, and I felt her smooth thighs to either side of my hard-on.

Meanwhile Cindy maneuvered herself so that her head was next to mine. She kissed me, then looked down at Chastity. Her eyes sparkling, Cindy said, "I want to watch."

I nodded and smiled. "Me, too."

Chastity put a hand between her legs, found me, and worked me into her slippery tightness. I moaned and arched my back. She felt so good, I went a little stupid.

"That's hot," Cindy announced. I couldn't argue with her.

Chastity began to ride me, slowly. Her slightly messy hair hung down her shoulders, and she held my gaze with sex-glazed— yet aware— big, brown eyes eyes. Her hands rest on my chest, and my hands held her by the hips as she gyrated. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked like a black-haired porcelain sex doll come to live. I don't know that anyone makes porcelain sex dolls (seems unlikely), but that's exactly what this fair-skinned goddess looked like.

Also, if they do make porcelain sex dolls, and if they look like Chastity, I want one. She was perfect.

I moved my hands up and tore open her black lingerie, freeing her breasts through the ripped fabric. I took them in my hands and squeezed.

"Oh, my! So violent!" Cindy said. She giggled and then licked the side of my face. She punctuated this with a kiss on my cheek. My beautiful friend had her left arm under my torso, holding me in a half-hug, while her other hand toyed between her legs.

"Okay, so you want to move beyond beginner level," Chastity said with a grin. "Challenge accepted."

Then she went wild. Her hair became a black tornado, flung this way and that, cycloning around her head, and her thighs became blurry, slapping claps as skin smacked against skin again and again with mind-blowing rapidity. Her hands became claws, fingernails digging into skin just hard enough to not draw blood.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and my cock strained so hard that I half-thought it had been replaced by an iron rod. I stayed blind until the Chastity-storm passed. I felt her slow, and I heard both women laughing. I felt as if I had regained something of my senses. When I reopened my eyes, the swirling vortex of a world came to a breathless stop. A layer of sweat gleamed from Chastity's skin, but of course, this only gave her a glow which made her all the hotter.

She blew a curtain of hair out of her eyes and said, "Seems you're not ready for a doctorate, so we'll settle for something in the middle. Maybe let your friend have a chance."

I let Chastity take me by the arm and lead me up so that I was standing and now Cindy was bent before me. Cindy peered over her shoulder and smiled. She said, "Finally."

Chastity put me in Cindy. I sucked air between my clenched teeth. Cindy felt hotter, tighter, wetter, and better than I had remembered. Chastity's lips went to my ear, and she whispered, "Fuck the hell out of her. She's dying for it."

I thrust hard into Cindy, and she yelped. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Again! Give it to me!"

I did, and Cindy's ass rippled with the impact. Her breasts and hair swayed. I put one hand on her right breast and the other into her swishing wine-red hair. I clenched my hands.

"Harder!" Cindy gasped. I began pumping into her like a madman, giving everything I could which seemed to be exactly what she wanted. She screamed into a pillow, then glared back at me and yelled, "Yes! More! More!" Sweat formed my on brow and slid down my face in salty, cold paths. I felt like a horse being pushed to the limit, foaming at the neck.

I body went all tingly as I felt something flicking at my balls. I glanced down and saw Chastity in the short, small gap between Cindy's and my bodies as I thrust back and forth. Chastity's tongue lapped out, moving from my bouncing, frothy testicles to Cindy's dripping slit and the swollen clit above it. I considered again just how awesome Chastity was, and then I moved my hands, gripped Cindy by the hips, and pumped as deep into her as I could.

Cindy screeched, shivered, and began to writhe uncontrollably. Her supple white bottom had turned pink from the slaps of our bodies meeting. She made a sound like a simultaneous snarl and bellow. Her entire body shook with tremors. After a few more thrusts, she collapsed to the bed in a heap of quivering flesh from the aftermath of her orgasm. "Oh my god," she kept murmuring. "Oh my god."

Cindy, her face flushed nearly as red as her hair, turned and looked up at me. She said, "That was so good."

"Stay right there," Chastity ordered. I wasn't sure whether she was speaking to me or Cindy, but we both obeyed. Chastity lay down on the bed beside Cindy and spread her legs. She said, "Fuck us both until you cum."

Chastity wrapped her ankles around the back of my neck as I entered her. A hungry, devious look twinkled in her eyes. The two women had made me so hormonal, that I felt like I was on a high, riding a euphoric wave that made thought meaningless. All that mattered were the intensely pleasurable sensations that made me both dazed and dizzy.

Cindy whined, "My turn. My turn, please. Now." She had lined herself up next to Chastity, and she had her legs held as far apart as she could manage. I couldn't deny her.