Whitewash High Ch. 27

"Alright, keep your hands steady people. This bullet is in deep and I do not want any slipups," Maya spoke out to the ER team. "How are the X-rays looking?"

"Three in the back. Two exit wounds and one located dangerously close to the spine," the other ER doctor replied, off in a corner, examining the x-rays.

"Great, he could end up in a wheelchair even if we manage to save him," Maya mused aloud. "Everybody ready here? We do not have any time to waste."

For the next few hours, Maya, the other ER doctor and the attending nurses worked feverously to save the kid who got brought in by the ambulance. He had been the target of a gang shooting. Those with him were dead on arrival, with the teen hanging by a thread.

For the past week, Maya worked around the clock with little to no rest as shooting victim after shooting victim entered the ER of her hospital. She did not know why but the violence escalated in the city, packing her ER with victim after victim. The Indian doctor slept an hour here or there, not enough to keep her nerves from fraying.

Maya understood in an emergency situation shit happens and a doctor won't get much sleep, however none of the others on the roster picked up the slack or were that interested in showing up for their shifts. The already stretched thin hospital got pushed to the breaking point.

"Doctor, we're losing him," the nurse watching the pulse monitor called out. "He is flat-lining."

Another nurse rushed over the automated internal defibrillator. Maya opened it up and did her best to setup the machine properly. It took her experienced hands seconds to place the paddles correctly.

"Ready...charge..." Maya stated, using the device.

The patient's heartbeat flickered for a moment but flat-lined again quickly.

"Ready...charge..." Maya stated again.

Still nothing.

"Turn up the juice," she ordered. "Ready...charge..."

"Doctor, he is dead."

"Again!" she commanded, fiercely, ignoring the nurse's words.

Maya attempted to revive the teen a couple more times but to no avail.

"We'll call it...death occurred at 7:43pm," the other surgeon commented, looking at the clock.

"I need to get some air..." Maya said.

Maya left the surgical room, pulling off the bloodied mask, and immediately walked off to the staff room in a haze. A nurse here or there tried to flag her on the way but she heard nothing, saw nothing, as her mind performed on auto-pilot while walking through elevators and hallways. The moment she entered the empty room, she found a clear spot against a wall and sank to the floor. Tears began to flow from her face, uncontrollably, as the death hit her hard.

Strung out, tired and jaded from patching up gangbangers who'd walk in with their war wounds, this spat of fatalities made the usually calm, cool and collected doctor crack. All the victims that came in died, each and every single one of them. One week of life, one week of her world-class experience failed as not a single gangland victim survived. One or two were gang members, but most were kids, victims of the wrong place at the wrong time.

This last kid, barely looking eighteen, had no chance but she tried to perform a miracle. The bullet lodged itself too close to the spine, not counting the two open wounds through other vital organs. All the time, money, and experiences flushed down the drain because of a situation on the streets she had no control over.

Her job required mending the wounds of soldiers in an unending war, and the victims who only wanted to survive for one more day. Maya took out her phone, grabbed on the way to the staff room, and shakily typed in a message. Each character typed got retyped as her fingers could not focus on a simple job. She had to stop for a moment, taking a deep breath to focus her nerves. More tears kept flowing down her cheeks, flushing her brown skin, and dripped down her chin to splash against the blood splattered scrubs worn.

"Nik...I need to talk. Please be home later. I need you. I can't be alone right now..."

It took her ten minutes to type the message. Maya did not wait for the reply, determined to go over to his house regardless of who or what went on at the moment. Without warning though, the door to the staffroom opened up.

"Dr. Rai, we have another code red. Get scrubbed up again. Another shooting," the doctor said, ignoring her condition. "Come on."

"I can't. I need a rest. Get Dr. Benson."

"Dr. Benson is not here."

"What a surprise. Get Dr. McClusky or Dr. Quinn," Maya stated.

"They are busy too. We do not have time. We have to get scrubbed again."

"I said I can't!" she shouted. "I just spent six hours trying to pull a fucking bullet from a child's spine. Before that, fixing a bleed to the brain. Before that, Uzi bullets from a girl's leg. Before that, Glock rounds from a boy of five. I'm tired of death," she snapped. "I...need...rest..."

"Okay, okay, I'll call in Benson," the doctor replied and left quickly.

Maya rested her head back against the staff room wall, laughing and sobbing, her emotions raw and bare. After a moment to regain her composure, she stood up, keeping it together as best she could while walking out of the door. Straight to her beater without a word to anyone else in the hospital, Maya sped away to Nik's house.

When she arrived, only Nik's car rested in the driveway. No knocks or doorbell pressing, she just walked in directly to the living room. With the couch empty, Maya sat back down, tears running again now that she felt safe.

X

"Ow!"

"Lift your arms."

"Ow!"

"You're not lifting your arms."

"I am too."

"Not high enough. Higher."

Gale looked on, smirking, as she took a break from her own training to observe Keishu testing out Suzy. She remembered her own first days under Keishu's tutelage, and all the bruises.

"Want to get whipped again? Higher!" Keishu commanded, slapping Suzy across the face with her punching pad.

"Ow! Fuck you, chink," Suzy spat out in contempt.

SMACK!

Keishu's padded hand hit Suzy square across the cheek, knocking the girl over.

"Chinks are Chinese. I'm Japanese. If you're going to insult me, at least get the slur correct," Keishu calmly corrected Suzy.

Suzy got up and returned to the guard position Keishu ordered her to be in. For half an hour they practiced the same position, doing so until Keishu believed Suzy learned enough to move on.

"When am I going to get to punch back? You're wearing boxing pads," Suzy asked. "Ow!"

"When you are able to dodge my attacks. You're bruised, not wounded. You're slow, lethargic and have no muscle. Right now you're just a punching bag," Keishu truthfully analyzed Suzy.

"I don't need muscle if I have a knife."

"Knives only help if you know how to use them," Keishu calmly replied. "Do not become complacent because you have a weapon and the enemy does not. Anyone can be disarmed and put at a disadvantage."

"Ow!"

Another smack to the face forced Suzy to stop and call a timeout, stomping off in a huff. Keishu looked over at Gale and waved her forward.

"I do not want you out of practice, especially now."

Gale nodded, jumping up off the bench and proceeding to take over the exact same stance Suzy performed.

Specially designed for sparring, the private room inside Gale's gym could only be accessed with a special keycard. It had its own shower, vending machine, office, the works. On the other floors where all the trophies and medals lined the walls to impress customers and visitors, Gale kept the real versions in her private office. A special shrine to her own abilities and domination, it constantly reminded her of the journey's difficulties.

Five minutes later Suzy came back, a bottle of water in her hand and calmed down. She stopped in her tracks, surprised and gobsmacked at Gale gracefully dodging and weaving all of Keishu's strikes. For a solid minute, Keishu picked up the pace, letting her hands fly faster and faster, and Gale deftly moved around each attack.

"Time..." Keishu commanded.

The bodyguard jumped back suddenly, dodging a kicked to her stomach, now on the defensive as Gale became the aggressor. The pair began moving around the mats as Gale kept striking out with kicks, moving with the speed and grace of someone smaller than her.

Another minute passed without Gale landing a single hit, in which case she said time. Unlike Keishu, Gale chose not to dodge but block the immediate kick to her face, transitioning to a low sweeping kick that got jumped over by Keishu. Finally, the sisters stopped sparring, noticing Suzy returned.

"Enjoy the demo?" Gale asked, walking back to her bench.

"How long did it take you to learn all that?" Suzy asked, legitimately star struck.

"Keishu has been training me since I was around your age, maybe a year younger. You think you have it tough? I know exactly what you'll be going through."

"Isn't she too young to be your teacher?" Suzy asked.

"She is older than me. Asian genes, we always look younger than we are. I have important paperwork to do. Keep on training, and when you're finished you've got the weight program to continue as well as your homework."

"My homework? How do you have my homework?"

"How do you think?"

"Mistah-cracka man is such a goodie-goodie," Suzy huffed in annoyance.

Gale smirked and headed off to her office.

"Suzy, get back here."

The mulatto girl sighed and walked back in front of Keishu. Despite now living partially under a dictatorial regime, Gale offered her a better life than she could have hoped for. Just sleeping in a quiet bed, without a mother turning tricks loudly in the next room, and eating consistent, healthy meals improved her life dramatically. Suzy knew Gale had an angle, but whatever the angle was, if learning how to defend herself and not having an empty stomach covered the tab, she'd pay it.

Gale sat at her desk, looking over some of the paperwork piled up. The top paper had a message about profits and losses from her various 'legal' enterprises. The gym made a profit, barely, each month. It did not concern Gale because it acted as a public headquarters and sanctuary for her public persona. Putting the hit on a gangster at a gym would make the frontline news and bring down too much heat on the offending organization, plus who would think some gym rat pulled the strings of a powerful Japanese crime family?

It also did not help her profit margins that only selective clients came to her gym considering she sold gym clothing and merchandise brandishing the crime family's WIR Productions porno studio. Despite the Playboy bunny logo being vogue and mainstream, the hardcore arm of the Yamato porn empire would not go over well in the mainstream.

Looking at another piece of paper, she read a bunch of numbers in code. To anyone else reading it, they looked like complete gibberish and completely random. She understood them as the profits her illegal businesses produced back home. Everything looked in the green.

She pushed aside those papers and picked up a set of photos, all of an Iberian woman posing at a fitness competition. Gale had another small tournament to attend soon, defending her title. She kicked her feet up on the desk, looking over the pictures in minute detail. The woman stood as the only competition she had at the event, as all the others were not in their league. Smirking, Gale nodded, noticing the weaknesses in the woman's physique and exactly where the strong points were.

"Guess I'll need to work the back a little more to give it some extra pop. I'm not losing to you. Hasta pronto, perra."

She looked over at all her trophies and medals. They stood in a large cabinet, displayed in a specific manner, with the world titles set in the middle, flanked by all the other titles in descending chronological order. They showed a timeline of her successes and dedication.

Ring...Ring...Ring...

"Hello?" Gale answered, her trance broken up by the call.

"Yes, thank you for confirming. I will be defending my title. I'm sure the event should be a big success; I'll make sure of it by putting in a top performance. The music selection will be sent by email tomorrow. Thanks."

Gale put down the receiver and went back into her trance, visualizing every move, flex, pivot and pose on the stage.

X

Nik came down the stairs shirtless; phone in hand as he had woke up from a nap after his own hard day at the school. He heard the sobbing, and did it not take a brain surgeon to know who made the sounds.

"Maya, you okay?" he asked.

"Hi Nik, what do you think?" she laughed but kept sobbing.

Nik sat down next to her, wrapping a consoling arm around her shoulder and hugged her. She turned immediately into his chest, crying all over him. He said nothing, nor did she, for a good ten minutes. He let her sob, cry and moan, letting her get the tears and the emotions out at her own rate and time. Nik knew all too well this moment required shutting up.

He caressed and rubbed her hair, giving her head a soft kiss hoping to help her relax. Her arms wrapped around his wide frame, hugging him even tighter for fear he would stand up and leave.

"I couldn't save them. I failed. All of the..." she sobbed. "I couldn't save any of them."

"You did your best, Maya," Nik replied, realizing what happened. "You're one of the hardest working doctors. If you cannot do it, no one can."

"They all die. My efforts are for nothing. I'm a hack and slash doctor. I patch them up just to send them back to that meat grinder."

Nik rubbed her shoulder, softly, hoping it'd help calm her frantic, manic condition.

"Again and again and again, they come in looking up at me with dead eyes hoping an angel could save them. I failed them all."

"You're only one person, Maya. It is not your fault the hospital is in a warzone. You're doing selfless work."

"Normally it does not bother me, Nik. They are just a bunch of thugs who want to shoot each other up, fine. They die, fine. They did it to themselves. This week the number of innocents that came in, I've never experienced this kind hopelessness before. Why did they have to be shot? Why can't the animals just go to an island, shoot each other up and be done with it?"

She broke away to look at her hands. They were clean but in her mind they were still covered with the blood of those who needed her divine help.

"I trained years to be one of the best surgeons in the world. What am I doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Nik asked, bluntly.

Maya hesitated, thinking, trying to put everything into words.

"I'm running away, alright. I'm running away from the responsibility," she sobbed. "I used to work at a big shot hospital, you know, one of those you'd hear about on TV or in movies, where the Richie Rich types would get the best care in the world. I worked hard to get onto a surgical team, some immigrant from the subcontinent with a funny accent, helping fix up mega stars and world shakers."

She rubbed her eyes, laughing sarcastically.

"Only working with the rich meant working for the rich. With so much red tape, if something went wrong, even within the normal specs of a procedure, I'd hear about it five minutes later from the director of the hospital. This was the big leagues, a private hospital, so the bosses ran it like a business. At first I did not care because I did not make mistakes. Flawless to the final stitch, I gave them no reason to discipline me.

Then the requests came. Certain patients called upon me for more than medical advice. They wanted a personal whore that also healed them. I'm a proud woman, Nik, and I turned them down...all of them. But this is big business with big wallets and big egos. The bosses never came out and said sleep with patients, but they had ways to put the screws to people. Evaluations that were flawless magically worsened. 'Errors' that were never discussed previously were suddenly being brought up in meetings, dissected with microscopic detail. My shining star darkened as it fell back to Earth.

I saw the writing on the wall and left with my dignity intact. I never did what they secretly wanted. I'm not a whore. So I bounced around until I found this spot. No one wants to work in a hospital whose main cliental are street thugs but people need to work. No one bothered me though. I did my job perfectly and no one said a thing. No bullshit, no meetings, no unspoken pressure. I found freedom in being able to do what I pleased with little-to-no oversight. No one gives a shit if 'animals' die, Nik. Log them or bag them, one of two options.

It's the kids and the innocents. Normally I don't see them but I don't know, this week, it got to me. Days ago I had to do surgery on this girl a few years younger than your friend. She should have had her whole future ahead of her; instead she'll be missing her left leg from the bullets, assuming she even wakes up from the medically induced coma.

I could have saved the leg. I could have saved her life. We do not have the proper equipment and supplies and trained doctors. I'm dealing with burnouts, Nik, and I cannot blame them for being burnt out. Look at me, I've cracked. The ice queen of the subcontinent finally split."

Nik hugged her tightly again, saying nothing to allow her to vent anything and everything that topped her sporadic mind. He knew she needed to feel safe to let go of all her emotions, and after all she did for him, this was the least he could do to help.

X

Glug...glug...slurp...gag...slurp...

Amanda squatted down at her favorite gloryhole, sucking off the fattest pale cock to get shoved through the hole yet. So many veins etched the light-skinned cock, she could feel them pulsate while her tongue wrapped around the shaft.

Glug...glug...slurp...

"Does it turn you on knowing a black bitch is sucking you off?" she called out to the unknown man, jerking him off. "Want to paint my black face white? Want to turn me into an Oreo cookie?"

Glug...slurp...slurp...

"Coat my fucking face with your white goo and make me drink it like the perfect cocktail it is," she smirked.

Her hands worked in perfect tandem with her mouth, sucking and stroking off the thick cock. Once it sprayed her throat and face with the thick goo, she turned to the next cock that quickly replaced it. The porno shop saw a large increase in business thanks to all of Amanda's ministrations and tender loving care. She did not care who shoved their cock from behind the wall as long as it had the right pale color.

"Oh, saved up some dick cheese for me, hunk," he purred, squeezing the foreskin back to reveal a welcoming snack. "A girl cannot live on cum alone."

Her tongue snaked out, greedily licking up the copious amounts of dick cheese from the unwashed white cock. The scent made her cunt gush. The room had holes on both sides but she made a deal with the owner to give the suck side a head start. She knew once the first white cock entered her pussy, her oral skills would deteriorate from her mind shutting down in lust.

"I'm wearing a business suit, guys; does that turn you on knowing you're spray painting some high class bitch? Oh, I think it did," she giggled mischievously, as Mr. Dick Cheese quick drawed on her face.

She tenderly licked up the ooze leaking from the tip, and sucked it clean with a loud plop.

"Next, I've got thirty minutes left boys, and mama is hungry to drain you all."

Just because Amanda awoke to an unquenchable thirst for white cocks did not mean her uppity, bitchy attitude left. She held total control and dominion in the booth. Locked from the inside, she could control every encounter, the pace, the progress, everything. Her natural dominatrix demeanour shone through, and none of the guys cared because it meant getting the suck and fuck of their life on a regular basis.