by Gabi Moore
“You have no idea. I have a little something in mind for you. Let’s make this something between you, me and fuck head over there.”
He laughed, maniacally in return, and then I heard someone walk over toward me. Piper ripped my blindfold off, and then slapped me viciously. Still stunned, I watched her bare ass walk back toward Maurice, who stood there, waiting proudly with his cock erect.
“You three, give us some space,” Maurice announced to the guards who stood near them. “We have all of the audience we need,”
This time, when he grinned, I could see it with my own eyes.
“You want to fuck my throat?” she asked him. “You want to fuck my throat while that fuck head over there watches?”
She laughed, and pulled her hand along her tits once more. “You think he’ll get hard, wishing he was you?”
“I don’t fucking care if he gets hard,” he replied. “Open up.”
I watched while he grabbed the back of her head and shoved his cock forward down her throat. Her lips were open, and she was angled so I could watch her drool and lick at the base of his cock. He cleared her hair away from her face so I could see how much of his cock was shoved down her throat. I watched as she gagged, and spat on the floor.
He wiped saliva from the head of his cock on her eyes, and it mixed with the moisture on her face. With eager lips, she reached forward at the base of his cock and began to suck on his balls. This lasted for a minute, before he grabbed her by the head once more, and then pushed himself inside of her once more.
Shaking his cock over her face, he came on her forehead. Then, with his cock still hard, he pushed himself inside of her mouth once more. She pulled on him, and managed to fit not only his entire shaft down her throat, but both of his balls in her mouth. The dull sounds of sloppy sex filled my ears. I was both hard, and burning with a sad form of desire.
To see her shoving her shoving him greedily inside of her mouth was intense, but to have her watch me while she did it was a whole other level pain. She was so eager for him, and he was so hard for her.
“You’ve always given me more throat to fuck than any of the other girls,” Maurice said, rubbing the head of his cock on her face.
She sucked him off again, and pulled at the head of his cock with her lips, spitting and smiling at me as she did. It was clear to me that he was enjoying this little power play as well, though his enjoyment would only last for another minute or two.
In ecstasy, he managed to cum a second time, shooting his entire load on her open mouth. She panted in front of him, fucking his cock with her hands until he had to forcibly push himself away from her from the sensitivity of it all. Watching that whole exchange was probably the worst part of the torture.
“God, Piper,” Maurice said, wiping the sweat from his brow while Piper wiped the cum from her lips. “You sure know how to work a man. That might have been the best head I’ve gotten out of you yet.”
“More where that came from,” she replied, laughing and grinning, her eyes staring at him, as though she were completely entranced by him.
More than all of the torture that I had faced from this man, the torture of seeing her wipe his cum from her lips, and then smile like that afterward — that was by far the worst of it. I’d take getting shot in the thigh again any day of the week.
And then it happened…
The resolution to everything I had just witnessed came so suddenly that I almost missed it in my reverie of pity. While Maurice was exhausted and Piper was holding his cock, she leaned in to kiss him on the lips, grabbed his weapon, and in one swift motion, placed it to his chest and pulled the trigger.
Maurice fell to the floor, and without saying goodbye, she unloaded the remainder of the clip into his body. I watched, speechless as she killed him without warning or mercy. The final shot rang out in my ears, only to be followed by a loud, commanding voice.
“Drop your weapons and put your hands up!” the voice said.
… And then it was over.
Chapter 29 - Piper
The police came just after I delivered the final killing blow to Maurice.
Standing there, I felt like I was an angel of final deliverance. Judgement day was at hand, and I my hand had been the vehicle of delivery. There are few words to describe how that feels, and so I will simply reserve two for you, and allow the mind to fill in the blanks surrounding them.
The first word is Terror.
Not terror in the sense that most people consider. When most people consider terror, what they are thinking about is having a man stalk you, torture your friends, and kill your father; these sorts of things are the standard for terror. The sort of terror I felt was the knowledge that within our skin, we are all incredibly fragile beings, where only a single decision is strong enough to terminate that line of continuity.
The second word is Fear.
You might think that the two words are the same, or even similar, but I can assure you that they head towards very different pools of the mind. While terror describes the awareness of our intense fragility, Fear is an anticipatory force which redefines identity.
Now, I knew what it was like to kill someone. For sure, I had been given enough practice. I had fired warning shots off at Maurice’s man, and I had been there to assault the windshield of that car that had been tailing us. The first one was a case of nerves, and the second was more of a tactical maneuver, in which I had been conned into playing my part.
Fear, in the case I describe here, is the knowledge that I, in full awareness, had chosen to ignore the edict, “thou shalt not kill,” and that given that decision, was now aware of every step along the way which would be necessary should I ever decide to do so again. Fear was the knowledge that the difference between Maurice and myself was not so vast, no matter how much I might like it to be.
With Maurice dead, I dropped the handgun to the ground. I heard it clang on the concrete floor, and my eyes glazed over with definitive silence. I watched while Maurice’s blood seeped out of his body onto the concrete below my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the officer’s setting Tyler free.
I felt them push me into the nearest wall and hold me there. As I was still naked, there was nothing for them to search. I held no weapon. I was as nude as nature made me. I didn’t get a chance to see Tyler on the way out of the bunker, and to be honest, I’m glad that didn’t happen. I was ashamed, though I couldn’t be clear exactly why. I didn’t want to be bothered with the details of that shame until I had more time to think, and so for the ride in the police car, and on the ferry back to Rome, I sat — deaf and mute to the world.
“What city are we in?” I asked, my mouth wet from the shittiest tasting espresso I had experienced in a long time.
“You’re back in Venice,” the man at the other side of the table replied. “Are you in shock?”
I shook my head, slowly, but with a definitive assertion of body language.
“Definitely not,” I replied. “Long trip.”
“With a lot to think about,” he said, not missing a beat.
I said nothing.
“Alright Piper,” the man continued, “We’re going to be asking you a few questions. Anything you say can be held against you, and or used to prosecute any parties concerned. Do you consent to answer these questions?”
I nodded and took another drink of coffee.
“I do.”
“Good. I’d like to start off with the subject of Maurice Benoit's death.”
They asked me about how I killed Maurice, and I told them that I shot him.
“Twelve times,” the man replied, tapping a set of papers on the table. “Usually, we don’t see numbers like that in homicides. It tends to indicate that there is an unrestricted amount of passion present within the assailant.”
“Never been accused of being bland, though. Never quite been accused of being an assailant either.”
The conversation went on and the man tried to extract more informat
ion from me about my relationship to Maurice, but I had nothing more to say about the matter. The fact was I had shot him, and they all knew that. As far as I was aware, they could interpret that information any way they liked.
“We also have information that your father was recently killed,” he continued. “Do you consider this to be a related attack?”
“You know what they say about assumptions, commissioner.”
“Very well.”
He paused to write down some notes on a pad of paper on the desk, and then raised his head up to continue.
“You were at the scene of the crime naked, and evidence indicates that bodily fluids besides the blood of the victim were also present,” the man said. “Did you have a long-standing relationship with Maurice?”
“We have fucked before, if that’s what you are asking.”
“Were those relations consensual?”
“I’m not sure that’s relevant.”
“Well,” he said, quickly. “It is relevant if we are trying to build a motive for why we have a corpse on our hands.”
“You’re free to build whatever you like,” I said, truly not caring whether not I was free or hung at the end of this interview.
“A lot of drugs were located on the scene, and some of them were within a bag which had your fingerprints.”
“I used the drugs to gain access to the compound. I used to work for Maurice, and then saw the error of my ways.”
Now it was the interrogators turn to pause.
He blinked, as though he had not expected such a forthright answer, and then shuffled the papers in front of him, in order to move onto the next question.
“And last question for the day,” the man continued. “The phone you used to dial 911 was routed through a ghost proxy. Do you know what that means?”
I shook my head and stared straight at the man.
“Well, let me explain,” he continued. “A ghost proxy is a method by which one number can be utilized to store data from a phone conversation, while remaining undisclosed. That number can then forward that information in real time — in this case, to 911 emergency services.”
“I found a phone in the bag, and I used it to call the police,” I replied easily. “Not sure why that is a relevant question. I have no idea how to set-up a ghost proxy.”
“Very well, Piper. We’ll be taking a closer look into the matter. That will be all.”
Without spending much time in police custody, I was released and freed of all charges. The police marked my case down as one of self-defense and pardoned my involvement with the drugs and with Maurice due to my being instrumental in bringing him to justice.
Frank too, was pardoned, though apparently, his pardon came from an international intervention, coupled with the condemning evidence collected through Angela’s Ghost Proxy.
In truth, she was the single most critical factor within the entire experience, and yet she was the most unresolved.
The police had apparently been working tirelessly in order to track down the source of the Ghost Proxy, but there was very little to be accomplished in that area. She had done her job well enough to stay free. With that much heat on her, I didn’t want to risk going to see her, though I wanted to more than anything else in the world.
I spent the next several weeks sitting alone in my home, packing things away, and sleeping. I was in a very deep depression, and I knew I needed a change in my life. As it turned out, my dad had a bit of money set aside for me. I was also given the proceeds for punitive damages from Maurice’s estate as compensation for sexual assault. The terms weren’t exactly accurate, but I wasn’t going to bother them over details.
“Thank you,” was my only response.
When Tyler finally showed up, I was just getting ready to evacuate the town. I had cash, and no more problems leaving the country, so I was ready to get lost. I had even considered the possibilities of stopping by Angela’s place on my way out, just to take a chance on seeing her one last time before I left.
I was afraid, for a moment that Tyler was going to berate me. Call me a whore, or do some other unmerited shaming. I had told myself time and time again, “We do what we have to do,” but I think my feelings stemmed from the fact that I was unhappy about giving myself to Maurice, more than anything else. I was actually more fine with killing him than I would have thought.
“You were brave,” was all he said, after a long and uncomfortable pause.
“You think so?”
He nodded, solemnly.
“Yep, I think that much is apparent, you did great work, and as a result of your efforts, this place is better off,” he said, gesturing to all of Venice with a simple gesture of his arm.
He walked toward me then, and we kissed. The contact was simple, and even somewhat clumsy, but it was sincere.
Chapter 30 - Piper
I was in my underwear before long, staring at him with my arms stretched out to my sides.
“I want you to bend over for me,” he said, pulling my thong to the side.
He reached forward and pushed his hand against my labia. He and I had been through too much for me to be purely passive in all of this, so I got down and lowered his pants. He was already hard by the time my lips hit his cock.
“Always impressed with how big you are,” I managed to say. I had to strain my head backward so that I could look at the tip of his cock while my knee was beneath his legs. He tapped the head of his cock on my tongue, and I held the base of his shaft with my hand. He tasted good, and I enjoyed myself while letting my hand fall down the smooth muscles of his thighs.
There was less struggle in this fuck compared to the others. He and I no longer had anything to prove to one another, or to anyone else. I was free to enjoy him, just for the sake of enjoying him. My lips parted easily for him, and my hands turned gently on the surface of his cock. I smiled, and let my tongue do the subtle work that made him squirm in his body.
“Mmm.. I missed that,” he groaned.
He stood there for me, and let me take him at my own pace, which I felt was incredibly peaceful of him, considering the last time he saw me give head, I was brutally throat fucked by my previous boss.
“I want you,” he said, lifting me up and bending me over.
I could feel his hands pinching my ass gently, while his cock parted the lips of my pussy. He eased himself into my vagina, and then began to fuck me slowly. Feeling the fullness of him inside of me was a beautiful thing. We enjoyed a soft pace for a while, and then he picked up pace a bit more.
I loved how massive his hands felt on my body while he held me. Whether he was pulling my hair, holding my shoulders, or putting his hands on my hips, he felt so strong compared to me. The feeling was liberating.
“I think what I love about this,” I moaned in between thrusts, “Is how much power you give me.”
In response, he removed his hands completely, and let me push myself backward onto his cock. I enjoyed myself for a time, letting his cock be something independent for me to work my body against. This little game of ours held out for another couple of minutes before he lost himself and pinned me down not the couch.
“Oh God, yes!” I cried out.
It was obvious to me that I didn’t just love that he gave me power, but that he took power away from me as well. His cock was pumping inside of me, threatening to pull me out from the inside over and over. The couch creaked, and I could hear the wet sounds of his cock fucking he hell out of my cunt. I moaned and pleaded for him to keep going, and he slowed down in response, teasing me all the while.
When I would get out of line, squirming because of the pleasure, he would thrust deep and hard into me, and put me back in my right place. I could feel his body weight bearing down over me. His hands held me down on the couch by pinning my back shoulders. I gave up completely, and used my hands to either grab a hold of the couch, or spread my ass cheeks so he could have easier access to my body.
“I love you,” he grunted, diving dow
n deep into my cunt.
“Fuckin’ cum on me then,” I replied, feeling a bit visceral.
He pulled out and shot his load all over the small of my back, then he leaned forward and licked his cum up off from the surface of my skin. His tongue moved slowly on my skin, and I swear I came just then — only knowing what he was doing to me. He kept the jizz in his mouth, and then came up to kiss me. The two of us spent a fair amount of time just exchanging the load between our mouths, swallowing each other’s saliva and cum until there was nothing to exchange besides our own kisses.
All in all, it was likely our most sensitive fuck until that moment.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked when we were done. “I’ve got a bit of time before I head home, and I’d really like to go somewhere nice with you.”
“I was just about to leave,” I told him as we laid together on the floor of my living room. “This place will be empty tomorrow, and I might as well go with you.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and then my heart spoke what needed to be said.
“Mind if I bring a friend?” I said with a grin.
His response was laughter and a nod. We didn’t need much more than a will in order to figure out how to make that happen. Perhaps a visit to Rome was in order. No explanations or articulated plans were necessary.
We had been through this once before.
Chapter 31 - Angela
The shores of Crete are not so different from Lido, but they are far enough away that it feels like you are in another world; that was the point, more than anything else.
I sat on the sand, staring out at all of the beautiful men and women. It seemed like the people on this particular beach had nothing better to do than show me their tan asses through variously undersized bathing outfits. Naturally, I didn’t have any objections. This was infinitely better than whatever was happening back in Lido, that much was for sure.
