The Ponytail Express Ch. 11

"I can only smell you ladies," he admitted.

"What do I smell like, Freddy?" Deb asked.

"Lilacs with a hint of musk and chlorine."

She grinned. "Nothing else?"

"When you're aroused, the lilac and musk scent intensify. It's pretty awesome," Fred complimented.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but what do I smell like?" the redhead asked.

"Popcorn, and leather, primarily."

"That's an odd mix. Does my pussy smell that way, too?"

"Your pussy smells like all of the above, plus about a dozen more that are tough to explain. You taste even better than you smell. You both do."

"Smooth customer." Mia had no idea how sexy she was with that low tenor still feminine voice coupled with that "Oh Shucks" grin; his dick pulsed.

Niamh mumbled something about nice, and even dozing began to masturbate herself.

"Jesus. She's done this before," Mia spoke, exasperated.

"She should just keep going if she feels good. I don't mind," Deb offered.

"You're not helping, cheerleader."

Deb decided to change the subject abruptly.

"On the bright side, I think I know what your punishment should be, Freddy"

"Hit me with it, dear."

Niamh continued to finger herself slowly. She smelled like orchids.

"For the length of my punishment, you must refrain from sex with anyone."

Fred winced.

Mia broke the silence. "Sound's harsh."

"Well, I'm going to be someone's slave for the next week," Deb countered.

"Why?" Mia asked, confused.

"We broke up a couple that we shouldn't have."

"Yeah, but you can get them back together, right?" The redhead asked.

"Trying to," Fred answered, "I'll know for sure tomorrow morning when I talk to Edward, but it's looking good."

"Then what's the deal with the punishments?"

"It's a reminder not to that kind of thing. Consider it a self-grounding."

"Do you still get to have sex, Deb?"

"Yes."

"Ouch. That's not very fair to Fred, then."

Fred listened to Mia counter. She was good at that, but he wanted to support Deb. He didn't think the punishment was very realistic.

"Deb, I would like to add terms to the punishment. If I need to control someone like for instance Minka, I reserve the right to have sex with them. However, not having sex with any member of the current group is acceptable."

Mia's voice cracked. "Why the hell would you bring that bitch up?"

"She's recently been inside Deb's dorm hall, stalking either me or Deb. Either way, I may need to be able to take her."

"You mean take her out like killing her, right?"

"I mean, fuck her brains out. Inject her with some ScSc."

"No. Not her, Fred. Fuck that bitch!" Mia bristled.

"Mia, I know you don't like her. Hell, she made me into a pincushion, but with a shady organization keeping tabs on me, I'd like to get as many capable people around me as I can, and she fits that description."

"Dammit Fred, I see your point. Just keep her away from me, okay?"

"That's fair. And hey, it might not even happen. I'm throwing out hypotheticals."

The group eventually parked outside the hotel. Mia woke her cousin up.

Fred and Deb got out on the driver's side, Mia and Niamh scooted out the passenger's side. The valet took Fred's keys and jumped into the truck. His eyes bugged out, because as soon as he did, his cock was rock hard and the inside of the truck smelled awesome. The valet parked, then made a beeline to the restroom and rubbed one out, thinking of the gorgeous women who exited the vehicle.

Not thirty minutes later that same valet would get a car come through, sit inside of it, and feel almost the exact same way, as he parked the car for a lone young woman with asian features and raven black hair.

The quartet entered the lobby of the hotel and Fred immediately discovered three familiar scents. They were Mr. Terry, Guppy, and Minka. Judging from the scent trails, Mr Terry and Guppy were a group whereas Minka was alone and passed through within 15 minutes. Fred knew he could follow all three scent trails until tomorrow morning, when the cleaning crew came through.

There was another note to Minka's scent that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was still her, just a bit different.

On the way up to the Executive Suite, the ladies were looking at their cellphones, except for Niamh, whose hand wandered down under the waistband of her shorts. She looked at Fred with a cross between embarrassment and desire.

"Sorry," she offered.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Fred answered.

It was silly, but Fred was impressed that Mia had gotten to a point where she trusted both him and Deb with Niamh's well-being, even though the scent was influencing her cousin. Fred had the urge to take her in the elevator while ordering Deb and Mia to do filthy things to each other, but it wasn't an overriding one. He'd been sated since the meeting, patiently anticipating the carnal plans Mia had for both him and Deb.

He hoped Minka wasn't waiting for them near the suite. He texted Oni, "Mr. Terry and Guppy are in the hotel. If you're coming here alone, be careful, please."

"Guys, before we get to the top, Mr. Terry, Guppy and Minka are staying in the hotel."

All three women tensed.

"That's good to know," Deb said looking at him.

Niamh's hand flew out of her shorts. "That's not good to know. We have to run." She was on the verge of losing her composure.

"Don't worry," Fred soothed, "this might be an opportunity to find out more about who their defense team is."

"It might be a trap," Mia spoke, clearly not liking the news.

"We're not running," Deb spoke to Niamh but also to everyone else, "we're going to roll them up and we're going to do it as a team."

Mia looked at her cousin. "But without Niamh."

The pale brunette looked almost relieved until the elevator doors opened. Everyone was on guard. There was no one in the foyer and the quartet moved in, Mia taking point while Fred and Niamh were in the middle, with Deb in tow.

Over the next five minutes, the group went through both rooms in order to ensure the coast was clear.

Fred said, "I think something's up with Minka. I'll grant you it may be a trap of some sort, but I think she's separate from Mr Terry."

"Fred, you don't know them like I do. If you decided to kill them all, not only would I help, I'd bring music to dance on their graves."

Mia was out for blood and Fred couldn't blame her, but that was a dark road to go down.

"What's better than killing is finding out what they know, then making their lives a living hell," Fred countered. He approached Mia slowly but surely. It had been since the morning he'd felt her embrace.

She saw him coming and was angry but didn't resist when he came in to give her a hug. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around him.

"I take it this wasn't what you had planned for tonight," Fred spoke lowly into her ear. She chuckled in response, hugging him tightly. Niamh grinned slightly, obviously happy for her cousin. Deb watched from across the room, still sweeping the area for listening devices.

"It's the opposite of what I had in mind."

The room suddenly buzzed, letting everyone know someone was at the door.

"Maintenance with the massage tables," a man's voice spoke from the other side of the door.

"Oh shit! My surprise," Mia said, releasing Fred from the pleasant hug and moving to the door. Mia was no idiot; she looked through the hole and whispered to everyone there were two people outside. Fred knew there could well be more but decided if they were going to storm the place they were done anyway.

Mia opened the door, and a man and woman came in, each with a massage table, along with blankets, towels, and squeeze bottles of requested oils. What amazed Fred wasn't the massage setup, but the fact that one of the maintenance staff was a pleasant looking woman with short, shoulder length platinum blond hair. Everything about the woman screamed average, but the smell of burnt oranges and musk were unmistakeably Minka's. Now he had to add master of disguise to the killer's repertoire. He wondered if any of the girls would be able to figure it out. Fred fugured out what the extra smell was; Minka had a large cut across her back.

You had to look hard to see the mark on her chin from the kick she took last night from Oni. In the end, the women didn't figure it out. Before the maintenance staff exited, Fred wrote "laundry room 4th floor ten minutes" on a post it note. He took out two ten-dollar bills and tipped each of them, putting the note into her tip.

"Thank you very much for supplying us with this," he complimented, seeing them both out. She didn't seem to shy away from his hand; in fact, her touch lingered.

"Mia, were you going to give us a massage?" Deb asked after they left, smile on her lips.

The tall redhead blushed slightly, "Seemed the thing to do."

"Well, that is awesome. I know I'm looking forward to it, aren't you, Freddy?"

"It's incredible, Mia. You're incredible. Thank you," Fred smiled.

The redhead's "Oh shucks" grin surfaced again.

"Before I give out massages, we need to take care of the criminal element in this hotel," she announced.

"We'll have to sleep in shifts," Deb agreed.

"Fuck that, we deal with them tonight to make sure they don't fuck with us."

"Mia, there's more than just that going on. Mr. Terry may have been running a trafficking ring for the NireCue Institute."

"Really? Those assclowns?"

"Yeah, those assclowns."

"If that's the case, the more Mr Terry spills, the more chance NireCue has of shutting him up by killing him. I take it he hasn't shared this information with the FBI?"

"Freddy?" Deb asked.

"I didn't know last night, so I couldn't get him to admit it then. Now that I know, I can have him go in and admit it for next time."

As the group talked, Fred waited for 7 minutes to go by before accouncing he was going to grab some ice as the group discussed multiple options.

"As an addition to everything else," Fred began, causing both Mia and Deb to look at him, "Oni snagged a separate room. She wants to talk to me privately sometime later tonight. I was going to relay this earlier before all the other shit hit the fan."

"Oni's having...problems with her feelings for Fred," Deb spoke. She was uncomfortable talking about Oni in front of the other women.

"Say no more," the redhead offered, "on the plus side she's reinforcements, right? You both kicked Minka's ass last night, against the three of us she doesn't stand a chance."

"While you ladies talk strategy, I'll get some ice. I'll bring my cell and be back in a bit." He motioned for Deb to walk him out, and she caught his look.

"Any chance we could order some room service? Niamh, Mia are you guys hungry?"

"I could eat!" Niamh admitted.

Mia shook her head. "I'm still stuffed from the meeting, but we should order for Niamh at least and some apps, maybe."

Deb walked Fred out. He pulled her in for a kiss. God, he loved kissing her. She was so hard, yet so soft and her kisses were like erotic tidal waves. She had the most active salivary glands around. He swooned momentarily, then broke the kiss.

"I'm meeting Minka in the laundry. I'll have my cell on in case things go pear shaped. I know you can follow my scent if you need to."

"I'll back your play, babe. Go and fuck your merc." Deb teased.

Minutes later, Fred keyed the door to the laundry with his pass card. He stepped in and it was empty except for the maintenance woman, who stood about fifteen feet away. Fred closed the door; judging by the lack of foot traffic, either he'd made a terrific choice, or a deadly one.

"I'm Fred. Is Minka your real name?"

The woman didn't grin. "Perceptive of you," she spoke softly, with a Slavic accent, "what gave me away?"

"Nothing. Just played a hunch," he lied.

"And the others?"

"Don't know I'm here, or that you were just in our room," Fred confessed.

"Then this is just as dangerous for you as it is for me."

She began walking towards him, producing what looked like a cross between a walkie talkie and a star trek tri-corder.

"What's that?" Fred asked, fighting the urge to run. She stopped at five feet away.

"Turn around."

Something made him want to trust her, and it wasn't because of her looks. Fred knew he was looking at a chameleon; she could be ugly or gorgeous. It wasn't just masks, it was the way she carried herself. He turned around before she had a chance to repeat herself.

"Is that from the first Matrix movie? You going to pull some weird mechanical insect out of me..."

She pushed him up against the door, then Fred felt heat in his wounded shoulder, replaced by cold. The whole thing was over inside twenty seconds.

"How do you feel?" Minka asked.

"Like you reopened the wound you made yesterday when you hit me with one of your throwing knives," he answered through gritted teeth, "can I turn around?"

"You may. And you are welcome for getting rid of your tracker. They will succeed in tagging you again, but not until you and I have spoken."

Fred turned around, and she was right in front of him, tricorder on a washing machine. In her current alias she was about six inches shorter than his six-foot-one-inch height. She inhaled him deeply, her eyelids fluttering. "O Bozhe," she muttered.

Fred smelled her growing desire, and he wanted to fuck her brains out.

"Minka, why are you helping me? What's in this for you?"

"You think I'm helping you, but what I am doing," her features faltered for a mere second, "is payment of debt."

"You really should be more vague when you answer questions," he replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Did I say talk? I meant the other thing," Minka replied coyly.

Fred understood what she meant.

"Okay, Minka, mouth or pussy."

She chuckled, "Sweet-talker." Her hands began exploring his body.

"Mouth. And you may not touch me, Fred," it was both a command and a threat.

Fred didn't like that, but decided two could play that game, "In that case Minka, suck my cock."

She blinked several times before responding, "Harazd."

Fred guessed it meant something like "Okay", because she knelt in front of him, unzipping his shorts. Seconds later, both shorts and briefs pooled around his ankles as the plain-faced killer stroked his erection. Fred marveled at the fact this was the same woman who had thrown a knife into his shoulder 24 hours ago. What a difference a day makes.

He told himself he wanted to make Minka his because she was a dangerous commodity; a wild card running loose who could cause real pain. While that was a legitimate reason, it was also true having a trained killer in his harem would be fucking cool. He stared as she slowly took him into her thin, moist lips.

She grabbed Fred's ass with one hand while grabbing his shaft with the other. Fred moved to grab either side of her head, and she batted him away, his cock still inside her mouth. He felt her teeth bear down on his manhood painfully, the threat clear.

"Don't. Bite. Me." He snarled, his command hitting her with tangible force. Minka was trying to exert her own control in the sexual tug of war. He moved to take her head in his hands and again she batted him away, while managing to still suck his cock. It was like she was trying to swat flies.

"I am going to cum inside your mouth and you are going to swallow every fucking drop," he ordered. She began bobbing on his prick, concentrating on the task like it was her sole mission. Fred was aroused, but not in his usual way, and not in a way he was comfortable with.

"Look at me," he commanded through clenched teeth.

She shot him a look, stopping her polishing of his knob.

"Keep going and look at me. I want you to enjoy sucking my cock," he commanded.

She began humming into his cock while going faster, sometimes moving her head from side to side, which didn't affect Fred in the least. He decided she really wasn't very good at sucking cock, which was something coming from a guy who hadn't received many of them. Fred imagined it was Alexandra and Oni sucking his cock in tandem, and he felt his nuts tighten. He kept his hands from her but pumped his hips into her mouth anyway while she kneaded his ass. She released his balls with her other hand, moving down to please herself.

"Do not masturbate yourself," Fred ordered.

Fred could tell she tried to stare daggers at him, but was too aroused. The action scrunched her face and looked adorable. He suddenly realized the reason she didn't want him to touch her was because he might ruin her disguise. Grabbing her hair would pull of her wig. Maybe the reason he didn't give good head was due to either a mask, or the persona of the non-descript woman she portrayed. All this was fascinating, but he was at the point of no return.

"Use your tongue," Fred spoke to her with annoyance, "I want you to love sucking my cock." Once he felt her tongue on his glans, even as unskilled as she seemed, it pushed him over the edge.

"Swallow it all," Fred insisted as his dick shot ropes of cum into her mouth a half dozen times. Suddenly, he pulled out to shoot a load across her face, landing in a line across the bridge of her nose and onto her left cheek before Minka dove for his cock in accordance with his order.

"I want you rub the sperm that is on your face into your skin like lotion."

As she obediently performed the task, Fred noted she scooped the sperm onto her finger and rubbed it across her lower neck. So she was wearing a mask. He put his hand on her shoulder this time and she let him, albeit warily.

"Where are you hurt?"

She blinked away a haze of lust enough to ask, "What?"

Fred heard her ask the question with a southern lilt to her voice. Was it her actual dialect, or just another ploy?

"Where are you injured? And who injured you?"

Minka looked up at him, still cradling Fred's deflating member in her hand. There was a rivulet of Fred's cum slowly running down her chin.

"My lower back is hurt. Knife wound by a rival agent."

"Jesus. You don't work for Mr. Terry do you?"

She didn't answer, just shook her head, confirming his suspicions. She rose from her crouch, still fully clothed.

"I want you to let me get you off."

Fred stepped up into her, close but not kissing, their faces inches apart. Neither embraced the other; instead, Fred unbuckled her belt, and she unzipped, opening her pants to give him the space he needed. His hand glided over her pelvic region into her stubbly sex, feeling how utterly drenched she was as he began rubbing her vulva at a good pace. He felt her breath on his face as she gazed up at him with lust filled eyes.

"I don't want you to work for me, but you must work with me. We can do that, yes?" he asked.

"Y-yes," came her breathless reply.

"I'm being watched by people I don't like watching me. I'd like you to help me out with that," he moved from rubbing her vulva to inserting two fingers into her dripping cunt. He began slowly moving them in, using his index finger to twist in a "come here" motion inside her pussy. Minka responded with a half snort, half ecstatic sob while she bucked her hips into his hand.

"You can help me out with that, can't you," Fred requested, twisting his fingers betwixt her vaginal walls.

"Yesyesyesyesyes!!" Minka replied, almost incoherently, as her hips swiveled.

Fred chuckled, staring into her half-lidded eyes, "Good."

Minka moved to kiss him, but he moved back.

"You may not kiss me, but I want you to dream about it until our next meeting. Until then, keep tabs on me, protect me, keep interested parties off my trail if possible, and report."

When Fred got to the word "until", Minka's insides quivered as her pussy convulsed around Fred's delving digits.

"If your mission runs counter to my survival, I want you to let me know. There's a bulletin board in the commons area of the Student Union. There will be a job posting for a clerk at Mel's Diner. It'll give directions on where to meet. Now repeat back what I just said."