by B. B. Blaque
“Oh, and kid . . . the offer’s on the table for you. If ya get tired of the cold and wanna come down south, I know them three would be more than happy to take ya in and warm you up.”
We’d heard good shit about Redhook’s son Colt and the way he runs his chapter. We also knew of his past workin’ for the mafia, and when the doctor was in, it was downright evil. Sundown was like Colt—practically born Malevolent—and had a national reputation ‘cause he’d been in so many chapters. Kash’s old man was Graffiti, the president of the Vagabond Vipers out west. He’d been cool to us when we were out there, but Kash had a reputation that bordered on psychopath. He was also tight with Bish. Takin’ him up on the offer sounded like it could be interesting, but I didn’t have any plans to move.
“Thanks for the offer . . . really . . . but I’m not a bird . . . Not ready to fly south for the winter. The rest of it . . . I’ll take it to church and the guys to see what’s what. You got a timeframe for this? I can speed shit up if needed.”
There was goin’ to be some kinda deal made and I was more than happy to split the pie with Redhook. It was just a matter of gettin’ my head together with Casket before we talked with everyone else. Brooklyn was as good as ours.
We hung out for a little while to be respectful and then Casket looked at his phone. “Brother, I gotta hit the road. BQE is callin’ my name and I need to put it behind me.”
The Brooklyn-Queens Expressway was already gonna be a pain in the ass. We’d taken longer than expected, but as much as was necessary. I already knew I was gonna hang for a while in Brooklyn before headin’ to the other side of the bridge. I wasn’t gonna get stuck in all that bullshit.
“Okay . . . see ya at the Mounds later?” I kicked a leg over my seat and lit a smoke. “If ya can’t make it, no sweat. We got it covered, I’m sure.”
I hadn’t even been back for twenty-four hours, but everyone—except maybe Rattler—was on their toes since I was home. Casket was always good to have around if for no other reason than he could give me a good hip check when my head was too far up my ass. Unfortunately, he’d just ridden off to Long Island and I was alone in Brooklyn.
Fi is in Brooklyn.
6
Every Breath You Take
I knew before I fired up the bike that I shoulda hung out with Redhook gettin’ to know Blitz a little better. My brain said that and was screamin’ it loud and clear, but my heart was tellin’ me to go look for her. Even though I kicked that bitch out I couldn’t kick her out of the one place that really counts—my heart.
I’d followed her a bunch of times over the years. Sometimes it was an honest thing to check in on her. If she didn’t come around for awhile it made me nervous and it calmed me down a fraction of an inch to just see that she was still there. Protecting her forever, it just came as a knee-jerk reaction. We’d both been thrown away by our parents and then the church cut the cord on me after what that cunt did. Even though I’d tried to throw Fiona out, I’d never been able to. Fi probably tried her damndest to wash herself clean of me—maybe that was the whole point of the shit we kept doin’—it seemed like we were both massive failures at it. Bein’ on my bike and headin’ toward the convent was makin’ it crystal fuckin’ clear that I couldn’t make a clean cut.
Looks like I’m back on the merry-go-round and ridin’ into Brooklyn after her.
It won’t be the last time.
When I got to the neighborhood I checked the time. I knew the schedule and how they did shit. I knew when she was supposed to be in the garden and when I didn’t see her come out it made me feel queasy.
Did they see her come back?
Did they give her a different job and schedule?
It’s been months since I’ve been here.
I kicked back against the sissy-bar and waited just in case. Another group came out, but no Fi.
Snaps where the fuck are you?
Fi. Not Gingersnap!
There hadn’t been time for me to watch the news in case somethin’ had happened to her on the subway or walkin’ alone in the City. I’d wanna eat a bullet if somethin’ happened to her because I gave her the boot. After I found and killed whoever did it to her. I checked on my phone and found nothin’ about a nun gettin’ fucked up anywhere in the area. Where is she? I decided to wander around to see if there was a sign of her anywhere. One of the nuns looked at me weird, but maybe it had somethin’ to do with me bein’ in a Royal Bastards’ rag and havin’ a braid almost to my ass. I couldn’t just leave the bike sittin’ so I had to go back before it grew legs and walked away.
Fuck! Fi where are you?
I rode off with my balls in my throat. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the Mounds, so I stopped in a diner and rode back to the convent a couple times. Still no Fi.
Every time I saw that damn convent I thought of the night they gave me the boot and how she tried to come after me. Stupid little girl! Stupid me now! I barely had a bag of stuff to my name and that crazy chick snuck out to be with me. Just like then, the only thing I could try to do was let it go—let her go—especially since I was the one who slammed the breaks on shit. How long do ya think that’s gonna last? I decided to do the motorcycle version of puttin’ one foot in front of the other and to get where I needed to be.
The Mounds—buried deep inside Rock Candy’s sugary, sweet snatch.
The Ultimate Sin
The Mounds Bar later that night
There was a small tap at the door and Rock Candy peeked in. I was more than ready for her after thinkin’ about Fi. I hadn’t been able to ride her outta my head, and there wasn’t enough business with Redhook, or Jack, in the world to get the job done.
“Casket called and said you wanted to see me.”
When the titty-dancer walked in dressed in a vinyl habit with stockings, I was ready to go. Just get back on the horse. My office was set up to look almost like a church—dimly lit, with red and black leather, and candles everywhere. There was a kneelin’ bench and a St. Andrew’s. My signature crosses were worked into all the leather like the seat of my bike and hangin’ on the walls. Nothin’ was done in a blasphemous way—my childhood shaped me and the room was a combination of my past and present. I ain’t against God, but I got zero love for the church. Them pricks and cunts fucked me up and still had the woman I love. The one I’m stalkin’ again. Thankfully, I’d learned to make the best of my bad situation, but it didn’t make me hate it or them any less. It hadn’t ever been as bad as it was that night.
“Come on in, kid . . . you said you need to confess.” She walked over to the candles on the shelf and lit a few. I pointed to the floor and snapped at my boot. “Kneel . . . tell me all the sins you’ve had while I was gone.”
Try to show some enthusiasm, motherfucker.
Candy was a money maker. I knew she’d have a ton to atone for. She also had a big fuckin’ mouth and I was always more than happy to use it to punish her.
“Crucifix . . . Father . . . I’ve been greedy . . . and seduced men for that greed. I lost count of how many men I’ve made come in their pants” She lowered her head and looked up at me with big doe eyes. “I won’t even try to think of how many hand-jobs and blowjobs . . . I’ve been really bad for you guys.”
You don’t know when to shut it, do ya?
The confessin’ of her bullshit is what got me off. I wanted the money she made and there was no denyin’ that. I turned a blind eye to whatever the girls did to make it. She coulda told me she got wet by lookin’ at some guy on the subway and it woulda been enough for me. Candy just wanted to blow up her own skirt to get points. I wanted the kneelin’ and confessin’. I needed the punishment and I didn’t give a fuck what it was for. I grabbed her face and turned it up to me.
“Did you forget the sin of bein’ a prideful slut? That’s the only fuckin’ reason you’d say all that shit. You wanna get in my good graces by confessin’ and lettin’ me know you lined our pockets while I was gone.” I yanked the veil at the back of
her head and forced Candy’s face to my boot. “Lick it with that dirty mouth . . . like you licked their cocks and like you’re tryin’ to lick my ass right now.”
Fi wasn’t prideful and if she wasn’t such a pain in the ass—that’s not where—I’d definitely be a prideful motherfucker to have her up against my sissy-bar. Her biggest sin is her lust for me. It’s way more than that. If Sister Antoinette had never taken advantage of me, there woulda been no stories for Fiona to hear. It all woulda been null and void. I’d be a priest and she’d be a nun—end of story. I wouldn’t have the hunger to punish her for all the times she went back to bein’ Sister Fiona and not my Gingersnap. Like right the fuck now! I wouldn’t still be so fuckin’ in love with her after all these years.
I coulda ratted her out. She woulda been on the streets with me.
She coulda died out there.
Better to have her come beggin’ and breakin’ my heart than to visit her grave.
Pay attention to the bitch at your boots. Don’t get sad, motherfucker.
I pulled Rock Candy’s face up and shoved her away from me. She didn’t disgust me or anything—she was just one of many willin’ vehicles for my fantasies. When I got to the shelf and grabbed a candle, I heard her take in a deep breath. You know you deserve the pain. My candles weren’t just the warm, soft religious candles—some were downright hot and borderline dangerous. A chick never knew when she lit them what she’d get. If it was a red beeswax candle, she’d have marks for a week. Those got my rocks off when I saw them under the stage lights.
The marks of one of my sinners.
I bet Fi’s are insane right now.
Wherever she is.
She looked hot in the shiny, vinyl habit and I couldn’t wait to punish her. Punish Fi outta my mind. My dick throbbed thinkin’ about how I’d slammed her against that gate and all those marks on her body. I was gettin’ harder as I stalked over to Candy on the floor. I undid my belt, pulled my zipper down, and opened the front of my jeans.
“Your fuckin’ mouth gets you in a lot of trouble . . . doesn’t it? You use it when and where you shouldn’t and you never think to close it for your own fuckin’ good.” I snatched up the the hair at the front of her head and the veil came off. “Kiss the cross . . . and get ready to take your punishment.”
Candy kissed the base of the cross tattoo on my stomach that pointed to my cock and licked up to the top. That always makes me tingle from head to toe and she knows it. I crouched down and grabbed her tongue. “Stick it out . . . that little muscle seems to be the root of a lot of your sinful ways.”
Fiona who?
I poured wax over her tongue and remembered Sister Antoinette doin’ it to me—a bolt of electricity shot to my cock. What doesn’t kill you makes you a strong and twisted motherfucker. Then I thought of the wax dripping over my dick and around my balls. Sins of the flesh. The root of evil. I didn’t lose my hard-on that night because I was thinkin’ about Fiona and how I couldn’t wait to do it to her.
Candy made talkin’ noises in her throat as I sprinkled the wax and watched it fall over her chin. The white looked like cum—I knew it was one of the cooler candles.
“Look at you, tryin’ to confess about what a whore you are . . . your tongue is payin’ the price and you’re still tryin’ to use the fuckin’ thing.”
Just like me.
Just like Gingersnap.
Fi!
No matter how much I was punished—I didn’t stop. I have scars coverin’ my back from the nun’s floggers and canes and I still kept fuckin’ those pious bitches. They said they realized what a sin it woulda been to waste my talents on priesthood.
Fiona begged me for much harder punishment than I ever expected, and she still can’t stop goin’ against her vows with that filthy tongue.
Those vows should be to me. Period.
Shoulda been.
I pulled my cock out and dragged it across Candy’s lips. Her eyes were closed—she knew better than to look at me unless I told her to or tapped her head. We’d played the game enough and she knew I wanted to see Fiona’s blue eyes starin’ at me, and Candy hadn’t had time to put in the contacts she sometimes wore. At least she plays the role to the hilt most of the time.
She’s not the same.
There’s no replacement.
Fuck my life!
I rubbed the head across her mouth and the crusted wax started to fall away. My hard-on was ragin’ and I shoved it deep down her throat with a quick snap of her head.
Punish what deserves to be punished.
Fi.
“Your dirty whore mouth feels so good on my cock . . . I know it’s not the only part of you that’s been sinful though . . . isn’t that right, baby?”
She let out a squeaky Umm-hmm.
“How many times has that pussy gotten off while I was gone? How many impure thoughts have you had?”
I pulled the belt out of my jeans, folded it in half, and popped it hard. Candy jumped, but didn’t try to move away from my cock. I can’t wait to bring the leather strap down on that bare flesh.
My hand went back to her neck and pushed so I’d go deeper down her throat. When I tapped the top of her head, she looked up and I saw tears runnin’ down from her eyes. Like Fiona. Black make-up mixed with them and it was like when I made Fiona dress slutty for me. Just for a few moments, I enjoyed holdin’ her head against me and lookin’ at her eyes. For those seconds, I was back inside Gingersnap when I popped that sweet cherry—still and savorin’ it all.
“Get off my dick and bend over the prayer bench . . . you need to atone, don’t you?” I let her go and pushed her over to kneel for me. While she got situated, I grabbed a candle and thought about what I was gonna do. “Don’t answer that . . . you know what that filthy mouth can get you.”
I want to hurt her. I want to get rid of the crushing pain in my heart.
Shoulda been simple, “Crucifix, I love you. I’m staying.”
I pulled her hips back and slammed my cock inside the soaked pussy kneeling in front of me. When I lifted the candle, I didn’t give her a head’s up and it was one of the beeswax ones. She shrieked and clamped tight around my cock. That’s it, baby. Take the pain you deserve.
“Pray that your sins can be washed away . . . you can’t help bein’ the filthy whore you are and that’s why I’ll keep punishing you . . . I don’t expect you to ever get it right. You’ll go home when I’m done with you and finger-fuck that pussy until it floods. You’ll need to confess again sooner or later . . . and I’ll gladly hear you out.”
I was thrustin’ hard and some of the wax fell onto my cock. I slammed in again with more force.
I never got it right. Gingersnap never got it right.
Sister Fiona gets punished and tries to pray me away.
I had to walk away.
“I’ll always be into hearin’ about your dirty thoughts and how they make you cream . . . and denyin’ your pleas to come when you’re with me. You have to learn somehow and it won’t be for lack of tryin’ on my end.”
I was gonna let her get almost there and say fuck you, bitch. Nope. You ain’t gonna come on my cock and then blow my load down her throat. My belt would get a workout after I was done. It was all goin’ nice-nice, and then a voice came over the intercom and interrupted my roll.
“Crucifix. Ya got company down here.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake! The cocksucker couldn’t wait?
“Get ready for communion . . . it appears I’ve got shit to do.” I rammed in a few fast times and was intentionally brutal as I hit bottom. Punish the pussy. I kept thrusting and my mind went to Fi and what a nasty whore she can be for me. How hard she tries to fight it and how bad she wants it. I imagined grabbin’ a fistful of that long red hair and pulled Candy off the kneelin’ bench and in front of my cock. “Suck it . . . drain it dry!”
I came hard down Candy’s throat and held her head firmly against me so she wouldn’t be able to dribble a drop. She smacked at her
leg and then grabbed my ass in a death grip while I nearly choked her. Then there was Rattler’s voice on the intercom again.
Motherfucker!
“I told you there’s company for ya.”
I walked over and pressed the button to call back. “Yeah . . . no shit. I got that the first time.”
“It’s a fuckin’ nun . . . like a real one . . . says it’s important. She’s freakin’ the fuck out, man. She asked for Giovanni.”
Candy was still on her knees and I went over and ruffled her hair. “Sorry, kid. Looks like you’re on your own. Sorry to leave ya hangin’, but I gotta find out what this shit’s about.”
For the love of all that’s holy. What the fuck now?
7
Sweet Sister Isabella
I ran downstairs and Hazard grabbed me and pulled me over to the bar. “Man, this lady is losin’ it, bro’! I put her in the champagne room . . . needless to say, she wasn’t happy about it. She’s a fuckin’ nun! Who woulda ever thought a nun would show up in the Mounds?”
I glanced over to Cassie, raised two fingers, and she brought me a double shot of Jack. Fi wouldn’t dare call me Giovanni or come back when we’re open. A random nun showin’ up during business hours and callin’ me by name was at least worth a double shot.
How am I still even standin’ right now?
“You guys said she was trippin’… did she say what she wanted? I know I didn’t knock up any of those black habits.” I tried to joke it off, but I was tryin’ to get some kinda idea before I went back there. “Was she wearin’ a habit? I mean, maybe she’s fuckin’ with me ‘cause of my name.”
After the night before and not seein’ Fi when I went to look at the convent, I was goin’ outta my mind. What she did by comin’ to me that way was crazy and, I didn’t want her crazy to get her hurt.
“Crucifix, man, she was wearin’ the whole deal. She’s not fuckin’ with you . . . you shoulda seen the look on her face when I took her to the back. She’s probably on her knees prayin’ as we speak.”
