Spark the Runner Ch. 02

Spark loved letting go and letting all the sensations wash through him simultaneously. There was no better high in the Universe. Simply awesome.

And the reason the Cresco were going to become addicted to Tonya in a big hurry.

Spark knew the women had had their fill when they let him coast back to "normal" and pass out.

* * * * *

"Probable hit, Stargazer Saloon," Spark said aloud as Okami zeroed in on the signatures she was sure were disguised Cresco. "Seediest part of the Spoke. Lovely."

"Not very original," Tonya commented as she monitored their vicinity for possible interruptions.

"Doesn't have to be," Spark told her. "They have a full-service back room."

"Full-service?"

"Yep, word of mouth, everything from furry to mutant and everything in between..."

The everything in between was mostly kink, Spark knew. Most "aliens" on Mars were humans, or originated on Earth. The Canilupes were an accident, the Gorman a castoff from a government Build A Better Soldier program, the tek-enhanced sex trade workers, making better money here but nowhere near as many places to spend it. Midgets and mutants, psionicists to psychos... about as mix-and-match as you could get. And Stargazer's street rep was a Special back room, to cater to those with a lot more disposable cash than sense, to fund their kink. And Spark was betting part of their Special back room were at least a pair of Cresco.

Of course, it didn't hurt that they sold some of the best bootleg booze on the planet. For those that just wanted to get seriously hammered and didn't care where they woke up.

"So what do we do?" Tonya asked as Okami and Spark came off the Run. "Pretend we are customers?"

"I don't think so," Spark mused as he opened some fortified water to rehydrate. "I think your idea of me being your pimp is a good approach. Like we've heard they've got some special guest employees and we think we could give them a treat. Play it like we think they'd want to pay us. It would be obvious why I'd be offering Okami, because she's furry. You're a harder sell, but I think we can come up with something. Some tasty tidbit to leave behind so we can get a 'proper' introduction. Without an audience. Or much of one."

"Get me to the manager," Tonya answered, "and I will have him begging us to come back."

For some reason, Spark did not doubt her. Maybe it was just that confidence thing, but so far she'd been mind-blowing and she hadn't even begun to pull out the stops.

"Okay, let's get online the old-fashioned way and see what we can dig up about the Stargazer," Spark decided. "I know most of their business is going to be off the grid, but let's find out what we can about the lions, before we head into their den."

The next couple of hours were spent cruising the public and not-so-public information about the sex club -- the owners, their backgrounds, who ran the place, who the investors were... even as much about the employees as practical.

* * * * *

Spark tugged his slouch hat down and straightened his leather trench coat. This was his normal garb for slumming. The coat concealed a body pistol and a couple of knives. He didn't want to be in a position to have to use them, but he didn't want to miss having them if needed, either.

Okami was dressed in her usual fur, with a belt and pouch around her waist and a purse-like bag slung across her shoulders. Her lightning fast reflexes and superhuman strength were her best defense, with teeth and claws coming in second. She didn't bother wearing any weapons.

Neither did Tonya... of course, after a slight demonstration, Spark understood she was a weapon. Like Spark, she was dressed in a leather trench coat, but she'd forgone the hat, letting her now spiky platinum hair be the attention-getter. She'd forgone just about everything else, too. She wasn't wearing much under the coat. That was the other attention-getter. Together, they kept other people focused away from what her hands and head were doing.

When Spark had questioned her about leaving herself so vulnerable, she'd nixed the conversation by the simple expedient of cupping the side of his face, sending him to the floor in waves of agony. She'd stepped back, breaking contact with him, but he felt his heart start racing like it was going to burst. Then all of a sudden, the pain and adrenaline was replaced by severe chill, leaving him shaking and breathless. Finally, she stepped forward again and took his hand. At her touch, a healing, comforting warmth had flooded through him and Spark was able to stand up again with no aftereffects.

"I have many offensive and defensive capabilities built into me, Jamie," she told him before he could get his voice back. "I hope not to have to use any of them, but if necessary, I can make it uncomfortable to be around me, avoidance being the best deterrent. That is why I will be going with you to protect you, while you concentrate on your role as my pimp."

After that, Spark had no qualms about walking into the hell that was Spoke Six with these two women.

The journey into Six as it was usually called, started out as one might expect the public face of a den of iniquity -- with the slightly raunchy. The entrance was an intentionally narrow arch containing the government controlled airlock/blast doors which also served to funnel traffic past the watchful eyes of the Home Guard, also known as the Police, or the Governor's Boys. They were there to generally isolate the denizens from the citizens and to maintain a certain amount of peace.

They also acted as a filter against curious kids. Or at least those not accompanied by an adult. It was an unspoken axiom that when a young man reached a certain level of maturity, there was quite the education to be had down the corridors of Six, usually accompanied by his father. Occasionally, parents would bring their girls there, too. Girls with an unrelated escort were politely turned around.

Mostly, though, the visitors were the Spacers, Grounders, drifters and grifters that worked hard and played harder. Booze, drugs and sex were the commodities of the day and very few people has a reason to venture into Six that wasn't related to one of those three. The three attracted very little attention as they passed the checkpoint, dressed de rigueur for Spoke Six clientele. It didn't hurt that Tonya was using her meta capabilities to make them appear inconsequential.

Immediately inside were the detritus of the spoke, the hookers and hustlers, the beggars and bagmen... the ones so low on the ladder, they were working the street instead of from some storefront. And there were a lot of them -- a long gamut to run to get to the small tents and shops where the next level of misery made its living before yielding to the permanent establishments. Whether or not you had to deal with the street people there was dependent on how tolerant the business owners were.

Letting out a slight sigh, Spark started forward with Tonya and Okami flanking him, slightly behind. He focused on the lane and ignored the come-ons from the hookers and the pushers, the pleas from the mendicants, the threatening looks from the would be muggers, pickpockets and cutpurses sizing them up. And gradually, as they moved forward, it seemed that the crowd wanted to ignore them, too. Strangers turning away, rather than trying to hustle them. Dark glares disappearing into the crowd. And very, very few tried to actually touch any of the three.

This place is not so bad, Tonya's voice reached Spark's mind. For being the alleged cesspool of the best villainy, depravity and slime Mars had to offer. Spark glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment.

Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I shall fear no Evil, he thought back, for I am the meanest Bitch in the Valley. He saw the corners of her mouth turn up slightly.

There is significant interest in Okami and myself, Tonya added after a bit. Of the lascivious sort. You, they would rather gut and throw in the trash.

Yep, Spark thought back. Earth, Mars... Plus ça change, plus ce la meme chose.

Same shit, different planet, Okami broke in. Spark had almost forgotten she could ride their frequency. I'm getting vibes like some of those 'establishments' would like to spirit me away. Three guesses why and the first two don't count.

Where the hell did you learn your idioms? Spark wondered. You're all over the map.

Literally, Okami thought back. I've lived a lot of places. Most influential were probably New Edo and Frisco. Maybe Nola, too.

Well, buckle up, Spark admonished her and Tonya. That cheesy-looking blinking neon star is the place we want.

The one with the Gorman brute out front? Tonya confirmed. That is annoying. I did not get a chance to familiarize myself with their particular proclivities while we were in transit.

They are big men with big dicks and they take pleasure in seeing how far into each hole they can push themselves, Okami thought to her. They have been somewhat desensitized, as you would want for a soldier, and they like it rough -- basically so they can feel it. They aren't particularly mean. They just need hyperstimulation.

Thank you, Okami, Tonya thought back. That gives me something to work with. I presume you know from experience. A glance towards Okami picked up her nod. The bitch's attention was on the doorman. He was giving them the hairy eyeball.

"Greetings, friend," Spark addressed him over the driving bass as they approached. "What is the cover, and how does one meet with the manager?"

"A hun'ert cred fer you, da ladies is free, an' you ain't goin' nowhere packin'." The brute was looking at a device that looked like a wristwatch. Lovely, Spark thought. A scanner. Wish I'd known about it ahead of time.

"Is there a checkroom?" Spark inquired. This time, he'd play the game their way. This guy would remember the next time they showed up, and a negative scan would be expected if Spark had 'learned his lesson.'

"ID" the doorman demanded, holding out his hand. Spark gave it to him. "Gun," the doorman added. Again, Spark gave it to him, holster and all. The doorman pulled out a P-com and took a picture of the pair. He handed Spark's ID back to him and pressed a button on the wall, where a vertical unit slid out, filled with rows and rows of some rather nice weaponry. The Gorman put Spark's gun in a basket and gave Spark the brass tag from it.

"You wan' it back, you show me da token an' yer ID," the big guy informed Spark. "You wanna talk to Vito, you talk to da bartender. You can keep da knives." Spark started to move past him but got stopped.

"The ladies is free. You ain't no lady. A hun'ert cred." The doorman pointed to the kiosk with the receptacle for the credstik. Spark plugged in a credstik and waited for the little light to turn green. Then he pulled it out and turned to the doorman.

"Okay?" he asked as he put the credstik away.

"Enjoy yerselfs," the brute told them as he motioned them through.

Long on muscle, short on brains, Spark thought as he led the other two through the door and into the densely packed bar. The air was heavy with various kinds of smoke and there was a DJ up in a booth, sending out music that was mostly glass and gut shaking bass, while part of the mob tried to dance to it. Spark steered them towards the bar that ran the length of the right wall.

Smart enough not to let you slide by, Tonya responded and Spark could feel the smile.

So Vito is the manager, Spark thought. Creds to crap he isn't. Probably some assistant to the assistant...

I take it you were not paying attention to Okami's report, husband? Tonya asked rather pointedly.

Um... the only possible response when confronted with the truth.

Vito, aka Muscular Vito is, as you pointed out, the assistant to the assistant manager, Okami's thoughts broke in. His boss, the assistant manager, is Not Known For His Compassion Nick. His boss, the actual manager, is Lewd Lou, but usually just called Boss.

Uh, okay... thanks... let's start with the bar. Spark walked them towards the far end, making sure everyone got a solid look at the two attractive women. Or one attractive woman and one attractive bitch, depending on their orientation. In passing, Spark noticed a number of mutants hanging around, both as clients and employees. Mutations on Mars varied widely, depending on the cause. Many were influenced by radiation exposure over generations until out popped a Mute. Some were more direct, like the silvery discoloration to the eyes caused by exposure to certain elements in the Olympus Mons mines. Some were genetic alterations actually created on Earth and sent to Mars when they were of no more use. A lot of the enhanced workers in the sex trades originated that way. Spark's personal favorites, mostly for the novelty, were the multi-titted humans -- more than two -- and the ones with the forked tongues... amazing what some of those whores could do.

Then there were the Pleasure Units, a whole different level of robotic constructs which could almost pass for human. Not the Tonya level of construct. She was bloody perfect. But close enough for jazz. There weren't many of them on Mars because their owners tended to keep them until they were worn out, sometime through generations of a family.

Spark noted the guy tending bar was a midget. Or dwarf. Or whatever. He had some kind of track built around the inside of the bar to get him up to operating height and he was damned quick. Neither the customers nor the barmaids waited long to get their orders filled.

Tonya? Spark thought as he looked at the crowded bar. Mysteriously, a group of five barflies decided they all needed to leave their seats for some important reason, making room for Spark to grab one, with Tonya and Okami on each side, and still have a buffer. It didn't take the bartender long to get to them.

"What?" he growled as he cleared the glasses from the previous occupants and looking disgusted at the lack of tips.

"I want three shots of Schlivovitz," Spark told him. "Neat." The man stopped hustling and looked at him.

"You want what?"

"Schlivovitz," Spark iterated. "Plum brandy." The man's look went from confused to disgusted.

"Fuck off, wanker," he told Spark and turned to deal with other customers.

"In that case, I want to talk to the Boss," Spark told him, a bit louder.

"Vito ain't here," the man growled. "Shove off..."

"I don't mean the flunkies," Spark told him. "Not Vito, and not Nick. I want to talk to the Boss."

"About a fuckin' drink? Like I said, shove off... but your ladies can stay."

"How charitable. No, it isn't about a fucking drink. It's about an offer he won't want to refuse. One you won't want to get in the way of..."

"Yeah? What kind of offer?" The man was still hostile, but paying attention.

"Special Services," Spark told him.

"What kind of special services?" the man demanded. Tonya? Spark thought.

All of a sudden, the bartender got a funny, glazed look on his face and started breathing hard. Spark expected that. What he didn't expect was when the guy's massive schlong burst out of his jumpsuit and started spurting cum everywhere. Besides ducking in a hurry, Spark had to marvel. The guy's cock was at least half his size long, maybe more, and a good hand wide.

"Holy fuck..." Spark murmured while the bartender tried to get his act together. When he did, it was to reach up over the bar and grab Spark by the lapels, pulling him halfway over the bar. Spark didn't fight it... Tonya wouldn't let him get seriously hurt. And he had just crapped in the man's yard, figuratively.

"What..." the man growled, a few centimeters from Spark's face, "the fuck!... was THAT?!?!"

"The Special Services I was talking about," Spark told him evenly. "Now if you would kindly let go of me and take me to see Lou, I would appreciate it."

The man eased up on his grip and let Spark straighten up. Spark noted the man was a lot stronger than he appeared. Not uncommon with Mutants. Something he'd have to remember.

The man tucked himself back in his clothes and called to somebody, obviously named Gus.

"Yo! Imbecile! You... Gus! Get your ass over here and take over the bar!"

A creature with bug-eyes, long ears and virtually no nose detached himself from the wall and walked over, getting behind the bar. Probably human at some point, Spark reckoned. The barman left the bar by the simple expedient of jumping over it.

"Alright, asshole," the barman addressed Spark. "You and your girls follow me." He led them off through a side door, past another Gorman bouncer and up a flight of stairs. When he got to the top, he stopped at a door and knocked. Then without waiting for an answer, he opened it and told them, "in."

Spark didn't like this kind of treatment, but he'd gotten used to it. Tonya and Okami seemed to be handling it well... not acting docile, but not taking umbrage, either. They walked in.

It was a standard office... a massive chrome and aluminum desk, a couple of couches, vidscreens, what was probably a wet bar on one wall and so forth. At the moment, there wasn't anyone there but them. They turned at the sound of the door closing behind them and watched the barman walk to the desk and jump up into the chair. At that height, he looked like your usual pompous, annoying boss.

"Alright, asshole," he addressed Spark. "I'm Lou. What the fuck is going on?"

"May we sit?" Spark asked evenly. Lou just nodded in the general direction of the couches. "Ladies?" Spark intoned to Tonya and Okami. They took his cue and went to the couch to sit. Spark stayed standing. When they were comfortable, Spark turned back to Lou.

"Although it appears 'asshole' is one of my many aliases," Spark told the man, "I would prefer you call me something different."

"Such as?" Lou growled.

"Oh, how about Patrator?" Spark suggested. "Because I make things happen."

"Alright," Lou nodded. "I'll ask again. What the fuck is going on?"

"One of my many talents is gathering information," Spark told him evenly, easing into the tale. "It is my belief that your full-service backroom hosts a couple, at least, of some very interesting... um... people. I believe that some of the special abilities I, and my girls, wield would be of intense interest to them. Your ability to provide these... special people... with a challenge they haven't found among humanity would probably cement your somewhat symbiotic relationship with them. You are already getting obscenely rich over what they can do for your clients, and all by word of mouth. What if you could improve on that position?"

Spark paused to let the words sink in and to take a measure of the man. Okami would be able to read him better, brain to brain. Okami? he thought.

An avaricious mutant with a massive libido supported by extraordinary stamina, she thought back. Still fixated on what Tonya did to him back at the bar. Spark smiled to himself.

"Perhaps you would like a better, more unfettered demonstration?" he asked Lou. "An idea what ultimate pleasure can feel like?"

"That might be... interesting..." the man mused.

"Okay, then... Venus?" Spark turned to Tonya. She rose from the couch with a slight smile and dropped the trench coat. Spark thought Lou's eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

In her current configuration, Tonya had added some height, to around 1.75m, and kept her weight to around 60 kilos. She'd kept the athletic hourglass, but bulked up some to about 90-65-90 and boosted her bust to a firm F-cup, changing her skin tone to a golden tan. Coupled with her now spiked platinum hair and royal purple eyes, plus the fact that the only thing she had on under the trench coat was a utility belt, and no hair, she pretty much got the attention of every one of Lewd Lou's hormones.