Tracking Evil, a Podcast Pt. 12b

Arlene just wanted to cover her face, bury it into the soft duvet of the bed so she could pretend it all wasn't happening. She got the opportunity a moment later, Billy releasing his hold on her throat so that he could cling onto her hips, holding her still as he bucked and jerked against the softness of her rounded buttocks, his black cock spitting cum deep in her bowels, soothing the ravaged passageway.

She slumped face first onto the bed spread, twitching occasionally as a mini climax trickled through her nervous system. Above her she heard the men talking in snatches, Sam directing his son to begin opening windows and stripping bedclothes for laundering. It seemed he was concerned his wife would return home to a house filled with the scent of satisfied white pussy.

Chapter Three: "Never was anything great achieved without danger - Niccolò Machiavelli"

Erica stamped her feet, glancing about once more to see had anyone been following her. There was nobody in sight as there had been nobody since she had ducked into the public restroom to pick up her correspondence from Trent.

It had been two days since she'd been approached. She figured that was long enough to not appear too eager when she called, quick enough for it to suggest her desperation.

The regular routine of communication with Trent had to be fast tracked. She had left a detailed message describing her progress and her plan to call the number that evening. There was every chance things might move swiftly from that point so she needed to know her back up was prepared.

It was, Trent had left a reply immediately as she had requested, assuring Erica that he would be watching her constantly, tracking her via the GPS in her cap and he would be ready for a rake down or an extraction on her signal. With no comms, Erica had informed Trent that she would disable the tracker as a sign that he was to move in.

With all that agreed, now she had to make the call.

The first payphone was vandalized, the cord for the receiver severed. The second one smelt strongly of ammonia, someone deciding to urinate against it at some point in the recent past. Erica used it despite that, her desire to get to the next step of the investigation overcoming her distaste.

She danced from one foot to the other, keeping herself warm and burning nervous energy as the call connected and the ringing tones came through the earpiece.

''Hello?' The voice was cool and unruffled, familiar as belonging to Oshun.

"Umm yeah. I'm looking for Oshun," Erica said, the excited energy that made her words jump from her mouth could easily be mistaken for nerves.

"And this is...?"

"Erica. Uh, I got a card with this number to ring."

A small dry laugh, confidence, arrogance dripping through the phone. "Why yes of course. The young lady from the food kitchen. Can I assume from your call you have considered my offer?"

"Uh, I guess. You didn't really give any details though."

"Nor will I. Not over the phone at least" Oshun replied. "Where are you now?"

Erica gave her the street address and Oshun arranged for them to meet in thirty minutes at a small cafe two blocks over.

Hurrying to get out of the chilly air, Erica arrived first. She received a frosty look from the uptight blonde working behind the counter, the thaw barely settling in even when Erica produced enough change to buy a large mug of coffee. Taking her drink she sat at a table at the back of the room, hoping Oshun arrived before she finished it as she was in no doubt she would be 'encouraged' to leave as soon as she had.

As it was, the elegant black woman turned up early as well. She ordered coffee for them both along with a small selection of pastries that Erica attacked unthinking, her hunger slapping her manners into the rearview mirror.

Oshun smiled beatifically, eyes tracking the rapid demolition of the flaky pastry pile.

"Good?" Oshun ventured the opinion when Erica stuffed the last morsel into her mouth.

"So good," came Erica's mumbled reply from her still chewing mouth.

"Let's talk then. You're not from the city, Midwest I am guessing. Did your family move here?"

Erica slurped some coffee and leaned back in her chair.

"Look I appreciate the food and all but let's not chat about me. I'm not from round here, my family life sucks, I live on the streets and that's before I get into my actual problems. So, let's not do twenty questions, you mentioned money when we talked."

Oshun didn't look unhappy at Erica shutting her down, if anything the prospect of getting straight to business pleased her.

"Of course, so let's say that there is an opportunity to make money working in front of a camera, doing more or less what you did for a few dollars the other day. The work is... vigorous but rewarding. You'll get the bonus of a shower before and after, money paid on the day."

"What's the catch then? You could go to an agency or something, get someone that way. Why me?"

"Why you? You are young, could pass for younger, attractive, seem to have a talent and you'll do it for far less than a professional. More, my employer has a liking for amateurs and people who will work and no questions asked. Good enough?" Oshun leaned back in turn, mirroring Erica.

Erica chewed on her bottom lip, acting as if she was torn over making a decision. Finally, she leaned forward, speaking in a resigned sounding whisper.

"Fine, no questions asked. Thousand bucks."

"Five hundred dollars and I will go to six hundred as a bonus if you manage to stick to the script," Oshun countered.

"Fuck. Okay. Deal!" Erica said, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Oshun rose to her feet, a card once more pushed towards Erica.

"Get to this address before this evening. They'll run a check on you for STD's and to make sure you are clean. Wait for the results and then they'll tell you where to go for work."

With that Oshun left. Erica held the coffee cup between her hands and wondered exactly what shit she had signed up for. Then the blonde with the stick in her ass came marching over to clean off the table,

Erica rose to leave even before the Cafe owner reached her table, she knew when she wasn't welcome.

Erica went straight to the address provided by Oshun. It turned out to be a small apartment in a midsized tenement building. Her expectations weren't exactly boosted by the grime and filth that seemed to ooze from the dilapidated building pores. She could hear the crying of a child somewhere inside when she went to knock on the door. 'Figures' she thought to herself.

The door was opened by a middle-aged Latino woman, her dark hair frazzled, her non description face care worn and tired looking.

"You Erica?" She asked bristly as she pulled the door open.

Erica nodded in confirmation and was pulled unceremoniously through the threshold and into the small hallway beyond.

The apartment wasn't what Erica had expected at all. It was clean, sparkling clean actually and a fresh scent of pine wafted across her senses.

She followed the woman as she led her through the apartment. There were two children under ten playing a computer game. Both of them well dressed and the console they were fixated on looked expensive and fairly new.

Neither child could bring themselves to tear their eyes from the screen to acknowledge Erica's presence. A highchair stood near the kitchen counter, a young boy sitting in it. From his red face and tear-filled eyes, he had been the source of the crying she had heard from outside.

The woman carried on to the room at the far end of the apartment, a small bedroom that looked to have been converted into a home laboratory. Erica could see what appeared to be drug samples in various vials and jars.

"Strip, then sit," she was told in the same brisk no nonsense manner that she had been welcomed with. Erica removed her clothes slowly till she was down to her underwear.

"All of it, don't waste my time," the woman called over her shoulder, seeming to know that Erica still had some garments left. The undercover reporter did as she was bid and then sat in the chair waiting.

The woman returned with a grunt of satisfaction at Erica's nudity. She then began examining Erica with all the grace she might have expected from a vet inspecting a horse. Her arms and feet were checked for needle tracks, her teeth and gums reviewed for cleanliness and health. That was the easy part. The woman then gave her a brief check for lice presumably, pawing through Erica's hair and the stubble of her pubes that had begun to grow back since living on the streets. Finally, a swab test was completed on Erica's vagina before the woman stepped back, peeling off the latex gloves she had worn throughout.

"I will have results in half hour," she said matter of factly. "You wait in the bathroom next door."

Erica nodded, picking up her clothes from the floor. As she was about to leave, the woman handed her a disposable razor and a can of shaving foam.

"I was told to have you shave, armpits, legs, your pussy. So, you shave now while I get the results ready."

Erica, dismissed it seemed, went to the small bathroom as she'd been told. At least there was hot water, piping hot, meaning that the feel of it as she shaved was something akin to pleasure. She had finished up and was almost fully dressed when she heard the woman talking in the room next door. She couldn't make out what was said and only heard the one voice so Erica reasoned that the woman was on the phone to someone.

The voice stopped and a moment later an impatient rap on the bathroom door signaled that Erica's results were ready.

"Tests were fine," the woman started talking as soon as Erica began opening the door. She thrust a slip of paper into Erica's hand, a hand scrawled address on it.

"Be there tomorrow at noon."

And that was that, Erica was hustled out of the apartment at speed, emerging from the tenement housing to wonder if she might be in time to get a bed at the shelter tonight. Tomorrow would hopefully provide a location for Lawrence Jackson the erstwhile employer of The Hockey Fan. It would also make Erica's debut in porn it seemed.

<0>

'Three different guys. Three. And all related' Arlene thought to herself before tapping her forehead off the cool tile of the shower wall in a display of deep frustration with herself.

Three black guys and now she was on her third shower since waking up and it was just gone lunchtime. The fact that Sondra and Destry, she gave a shudder as she thought of the dead man, would have been high fiving and back slapping her for cutting loose wasn't a comfort. The less control Arlene was holding when it came to decisions of the flesh, the more it was exciting her, waking her from her life's stupor. In a way, her abandoning control, being submissive sexually was giving her more control on the rest of her life, invigorating her. But it was tough on her mentally, hard on her after the fact. She had been brought up to be more resilient and instead of being tough it had made her brittle in places. Surrendering seemed to grant her some form of mental flexibility.

Arlene pushed away all the emotions, already feeling her shoulders tensing, undoing the reinvigorating results of multiple orgasms from the morning. Keeping her mind, and hands, busy; Arlene picked up some shampoo and began washing her hair as she soaked up the heat from the spraying water of the shower. Her hair needed this, the vigorous sex had made her perspire heavily and her red hair had grown damp and lifeless from the sweat. Standing under the full spray of the shower she left it flush the lathered suds from her, closing her eyes as the hot water cascaded down her body.

With her eyes closed, her ears full of water and her mind elsewhere, Arlene was essentially without senses. So, when she felt a touch on her hip, she hopped an inch off the ground with a squeal of shock. The shock lasted less than point five of a second. Even as her feet returned to the ground, she was turning, twisting, arms raising to engage whomever had snuck up on her.

Arlene's fists froze as they reached the apex of their defensive arc... there was no threat. Not from a man in his seventies. Zeke had snuck into the shower behind her, still naked but now with a wide-eyed look on his face. For a moment Arlene expected him to clutch his chest signaling a heart attack.

Instead, he beamed a massive smile at her.

"Sweet baby Jesus, and there was I thinking you couldn't get more beautiful looking! I got half a mind to let you beat seven shades of shit out of me, just to see you move like that again."

Arlene just threw her head back and laughed, what else could she do? Zeke joined her, his own laugh rasping out almost like a cackle as he stepped closer, beneath the spray as well.

"Sam and Billy are cleaning house, I need to clean myself up. My wife would smell you on me before I ever set foot inside the house." Arlene nodded and handed him some shower gel.

Zeke slathered some on his torso, working it across his chest and arms. His eyes remained on Arlene's body as she did the same. After a quiet minute he spoke again.

"I left your clothes on the bed when you are done here. Sam had them hidden in the oven, think my boy had a lot of this planned once he saw you on Billy's bed."

"Yeah, makes sense," Arlene said, not really bothered now all was said and done.

"Your gun is there too," Zeke said, "You were on the level when you said you were on the job?"

"Mmhmm, Deputy Sheriff out of Mecklenburg County," Arlene confirmed. "Were you on the level about being a lawyer?"

"Well, I'm retired now but yes. Spent time working as a state prosecutor and as a defense attorney, I enjoyed arguing both sides in my time."

She considered that for a second before looking at him with serious eyes.

"Would you know some judges then?"

"Ha! You bet that beautiful backside of yours I know some. I got me one at my monthly poker game. Two if you count one of them being retired like myself."

Arlene dropped a hand to Zeke's crotch; her own hand was still creamy with lathered shower gel and this she began working along his cock and balls.

"Think you could introduce me to them?"

"Lordy but you are a wicked red-haired temptress, aren't you?" Zeke's voice rose to match his swelling cock as Arlene rubbed it. "Help me out if this here predicament you've created and yeah, I'll introduce you."

"Deal," Arlene said and she got onto her knees.

She leaned back so that the spray of water from above sluiced down to clean the suds from his cock, her hand never leaving the swollen black member as it was washed clean. Once it was free of shower gel, Arlene leaned over to take it into her mouth.

She hummed as she worked, lips locked over his cock, her tongue sliding against the sensitive underside of his shaft. The small vibrations of her humming exciting his black cock, making the flesh tremble. Arlene was humming though as she was considering the benefits of having legal advice, possibly a judge onside. It might help them make some sort of headway investigating Henry Marks. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Zeke soon had her back on her feet. The old man buried his head between her firm's tits, rolling his face against the soft mounds of flesh before pulling it free in order to tongue vigorously at her sensitive nipples. His hand was between her legs, teasing at her pussy while Arlene's hand returned the favor, cupping and fondling his ball sack.

Zeke's nostrils flared, his blood up, as his head finally rose from Arlene's breasts. He turned her around so that she faced the tiled wall of the shower.

"Assume the position," he said with dark humor.

Arlene placed her hands flat against the tiles, her body curved as the old black attorney nestled in behind her. His cock was seven decades old but you wouldn't have known it from the way it pierced her pussy in a smooth stroke. He began working it in an out, deliberate long strokes with the occasional twist as his hips moved side to side.

"Let's see if my memory serves me as well as my dick seems to be doing," Zeke chortled happily behind her. Arlene could feel the paunch of his stomach pressing into the small of her back as he ground his old black cock deep inside. She shivered and moaned in pleasure, the warmth of the shower and the endorphins from the sex relaxing her mind and body once more.

"How did it go again? Oh yes. You have the right to remain silent. Except you appear to be moaning up a storm. What's next... if you give up the right to be silent anything you say can be used against you in a court of law." He ground his cock deep again so that Arlene gasped in pleasure. "Of course, no matter what you say, this cock is getting used against you right now."

Arlene thrust her ass backwards to meet his stroke. For all of his bible quotes and his airs and graces, Zeke was a lecherous old man to his core, even sexualizing the Miranda rights into dirty talk, a married retired lawyer fucking a widowed cop.

"You have the right to consult an attorney. Maybe this is what you call consulting these days, I call it fucking," Zeke continued. Arlene could feel an orgasm brewing, her stomach churning like a washing machine with an unbalanced load, her body afire with the need to cum hard again.

"If you cannot afford an attorney, we'll this one is only too happy to take his pay in tight white pussy any day of the week. Well, those are your rights, except for the one where you got the right to cum on my black cock like a sweet little whore, just you know I won't be stopping this arrest till I am unloading in that womb of yours again." With that he fell silent, concentrating now on getting himself off, and as a consequence, Arlene as well. Zeke was no slouch but he wasn't a young man anymore. Arlene knew that, like ten dollars on a night out, it wasn't going to last long.

She pressed her forehead against the wall, bracing herself as Zeke gave these last few thrusts everything he had. His scrotum had dropped lower with age and as he levered his cock in and out at speed, the heavy balls struck the back of her legs, swinging like lead pendulums.

"Saints and sinners, drop that gavel because I'm about to rest my case!" Zeke proclaimed with a strangled cry.

Arlene's fingers swept into two bunched fists and her mouth dropped open into a low guttural snarl of unmitigated pleasure.

"Oh, oh gawd! AAAANNHHH!!" Arlene's cries filled the bathroom as she orgasmed on the black cock spurting inside her clenched pussy.

<<0>>

Erica arrived at the address a couple of minutes early.

It was a small warehouse in the Cobblehill district in Brooklyn. From the signage above the large roller shutter doors, it was a rented space and she doubted the person paying the rent had explained exactly what the space would be used for.

To the right of the roller shutters was a steel door, a hard looking individual loitering beside it. With his swarthy looks and hooded eyes, the man looked like an extra on a Scorsese film rather than a security guard at an illicit and illegal pornographic film shoot. He held up a hand to stop Erica as she approached, so she slowed to a stop. He flicked a finger at the brim of her cap and Erica pulled it off, running her fingers through her pixie length brown hair.

"Help you?" He asked politely enough, but Erica guessed that helping people wasn't high on the list of his skills.

"I'm expected."

"Course you is," he replied genially.

"No really, Oshun is expecting me."

At the older black woman's name, his demeanor changed dramatically, the man straightening up to usher Erica toward the door. He held it open as she stepped through, the heavy steel clanging as it closed firmly behind her.