by Sa'id Salaam
The Black Mob had excellent surveillance. They were everywhere and nowhere at the same time all of the time. As a result, Nano popped up everywhere Allo said he would.
“See?” Allo said when the Bentley pulled to a midtown condo where Nano copped the mollies that he popped. “He’s going to Lenox next.”
“Not bad,” Yolo admitted. She couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of the rapper up close.
He was a tiny little fellow with a big dreadlocked head. Every visible surface of skin was covered in tattoos. His bright orange skinny jeans hugged his narrow ass and squeezed his balls tightly. Electric blue Chucks and matching derby made him look more like a clown than a rapper. Then again, those lines have been blurred since the nineties.
Big Kodac provided the large security guard for the man knowing he was less than a man. He further protected his investment by putting a life insurance policy on him. It was to offset the inevitable drug overdose in his future. Or unexpected Yolo.
The next stop was upscale Lenox mall. There the rapper would pick out a blouse for the evening and promote his upcoming show. It was also the best place to meet groupies. There’s far too much going on to select quality groupies during a show. No, better to pick them up in the daylight and bring them along. Let them hang out backstage since backstage always leads to back shots.
Knowing the emaciated rapper ate the mall pizza when he did eat that's where Yolo waited for him. He arrived in line and scanned her from the bottom up. Nice small feet, firm calves and a round ass under a super short skirt. Once he had seen enough and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Sup shorty?” he asked with his signature platinum grimace.
“Sup with you?” Yolo asked displaying her own fangs.
“Dang dem shits is dope!” Nano cheered and moved in for a closer look.
“Careful, they sharp,” she warned and took a playful chomp at him. It was then she realized she wouldn’t even need a gun for him. No, she would save the bullets for his team.
“Who did dem? I got to gets me a set!” Nano proclaimed.
"Doctor Kilroy in New York. He…”
“I heard he got kilt!” he gossiped.
“Really?” Yolo asked as if she hadn’t murdered the man herself. Grrr… “Guess I got the only set,” she shrugged.
“Speaking of sets…you wanna be my guest at my show tonight?” he asked then bust a rapper type pose.
“Show? What are you a magician?” she asked. Just then, she noticed he was wearing a girl’s shirt. Was sure too since she had the same shirt, in the same size.
“Nah I ain’t no magician. I’m Nano… The rapper Nano?” he asked when she still didn’t acknowledge him. “I sing that song ‘That’s my Bitch’ and 'Bitch Please', Bitches be Like', 'Bitch Who',' Who Dat Bitch' and 'B…”
“You must not like girls very much.” Yolo wondered what kind of man would advocate and promote use of the derogatory word so much. Perhaps his mother was a bitch or his daughter. Maybe his wife and sisters were bitches? No shade but if the shoe fits buy a purse to match cuz you’re probably a bitch too.
“What? I love bitches!” he insisted. “Come to my show.”
“Only if we can hang out after the show,” she said tracing her fangs with her tongue seductively.
“Fuck yeah!” Nano cheered showing he did indeed have a little bitch in him too. Yolo scrunched her pretty face and tilted her head at the curious display.
“Are they coming too?” she asked of his crew all staring down her throat. She didn’t mind since the 40 caliber held ten shots.
“Shawty my house so big you won’t even know they there,” he said half truthfully. The house he lived in was indeed big enough to be alone in, even if twenty people were there; it just wasn’t his. The house, the cars, and even the jewelry he wore where all assets of the record company.
****
“Who is dat bitch over dere? Dats my bitch! What about dat bitch in da chair? That’s my bitch! I ain’t never gon’ switch cuz dats my bitch!" Nano rapped as bitches in the audience rapped along. Even the bitches backstage called themselves bitches along with him.
“I’ma be his bitch tonight,” a pretty young groupie dared. She had read so many bitch books and heard so many bitch songs coming from black men she just accepted being a bitch. We could pause for a moment of silence for black pride…
Yolo counted the nine groupies and added them to her tally, which would make 20 plus Allo. Being a girl short meant one of them would have to pull a double. No, not working two shifts but fucking two men. Another moment of silence could go here.
Inside the limo, Nano popped an upper, a downer, licked a line of Mollie, slugged a shot of liquor, fired up a blunt, and sipped on his syrup. He nodded off several times during the ride out to his suburban digs. Yolo was tempted to pluck the blunt from his tattooed fingers but she didn’t like the way it sparked and sizzled when he pulled it.
When the convoy of cars arrived, the entourage and groupies all filed in behind Nano. They quickly spread out for places to get their freak on. Yolo followed the woozy rapper.
“In here,” Nano directed when they reached the third floor master suite. He groped Yolo’s ass when she walked in. She fought the urge to pop him in the mouth. In the end, she let the free feel go, why not since she was about murder him. Or so she thought.
Nano swooned and swayed as he stripped out of his clothes. Yolo stripped too since she didn’t bring a change of clothes and planned to get bloody. The only thing in her purse was a plastic pistol and pair of pliers. She giggled at the sight of the naked rapper. He had smoked, snorted, and sipped himself into a tattoo-covered skeleton. Even his dick was shriveled up from abuse and barely visible under the dense bush of pubic hair.
Then, the strangest thing happened. Nano’s eye fluttered as he swayed then fell flat on his face. Yolo cocked her head curiously and leaned in to investigate. Nano took a deep breath and exhaled raggedly. He took another but didn’t blow that one out. He would take that one to hell with him. The combination of drugs had euthanized him like a puppy. Nano had a strong chemical odor coming out of his pores from the fatal combination of drugs. In fact, he had the perfect mix of drugs in his system to kill certain cancers.
“So! I’m still getting them teeth,” Yolo pouted to the corpse. She was in her feelings about not getting to kill the man. Sure, she would get credit for the kill but couldn’t count it towards her goal.
Yolo retrieved her pliers and opened the man’s mouth. She braced her foot against his face and pulled out the jewels one by one. Luckily poor dental hygiene had them loose making her job a little easier. Once the deed was done, she set out to kill 19 people with ten shots.
“Bad girls move in silence and violence,” Yolo whispered as she screwed the silencer on the tip of the pistol. Still completely naked, she tipped out into the hallway.
Yolo tilted her head listening for sounds of life so she could go kill. Slurps and moans alerted her to sexual activity in a nearby room. She crept down the hall and peeked in a cracked door. There she was, the head groupie giving the head of security some head. She watched for pointers before pointing the pistol. A round each cancelled the blowjob and Yolo went off in search of more prey. Two down seventeen to go with only eight shots left. She was going to have to get creative.
The barber and hype man were so busy ramming themselves into opposite sides of the groupie pulling double duty that they didn’t hear death creep into the room. Killing two birds with one stone is a lot easier then killing two men with one shot especially since they were both moving which made the shot that much more difficult. Yolo was patient though, she waited, waited, waited, and then ‘PST.’
“Ten!” she cheered quietly scoring her shot. The bullet passed through the back of the man delivering back shots and entered the forehead of the man getting head. Another trick shot. The groupie looked up just in time to see the flash that made her a memory.
Another trick shot down through the back o
f a humper and into the humpee left 14 but only four bullets. Those rounds were quickly used on the next two couples. A lovely set of knives in the kitchen got put to new use as she cut, slashed, and stabbed the remaining victim.
Yolo was covered in blood from the different donors once she finished. She placed a call to Allo to come pick her up before jumping into the marble shower. All the excitement had her excited; luckily, the shower had a hand held sprayer. She stepped out clean and relaxed from busting a nut just as Allo texted from the driveway.
“Come in,” she texted back and shimmed into her panties and bra.
“Dang! They all dead?” Allo asked as he stepped inside of the massacre scene.
“One left,” she said leading him inside. He was too focused on the butt cheeks protruding from the panties to think.
Yolo led him into an unused room and turned to face him. He was her height so they were face to face. Allo tried his luck and leaned in for a kiss. Yolo giggled coyly before running her tongue around his lips. She then sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit it clean off.
“The fuck?” he asked in confusion and pain watching her chew on his lip. He reached for it and got popped in his eye. He frowned as if he didn’t understand so she popped him in his other eye. Once he understood what was happening he put his scrawny arms up to fight and got beat to death.
Yolo hit him so many times he gave up and tried to run. A quick swipe of her feet tripped him onto his face. She knelt over him and delivered an elbow to the base of his skull that separated his brain from his spine and soul from his body. 82 minus Nano meant 81, 19 to go.
Chapter 14
By 20 Yolo was up to 90 and things grinded to a halt. The previous murders were so brutal that it forced honor amongst thieves. No one wanted to get chopped up so they stepped up and did good business.
The inactivity was driving the killer crazy. She went months without a hit and she was itching to murder something. Luckily for her Playa-D started fucking up and decided to donate to her cause.
“Hey! Make it rain!” Daryl Jones aka Playa-D cheered as he made it rain. He carelessly tossed bills on the stage in at his favorite strip joint.
His favorite stripper, a platinum blonde dubbed Platinum popped, shimmed, and shook under a flurry of bills. They say it ain’t tricking if you got it and I say they a damn lie. Especially when it’s not your money.
The girl was smart enough to know her pussy was worth more by showing it to the man than giving it to him. She had been a hoe long enough to know that vagina loses its value once a man busts a nut. This of course does not apply to wives.
“Please stop,” T-Rock pleaded once more. He was the second in command in the Black Mob Orlando chapter. They had the city and surrounding counties on smash handling all drug sales. It was going so well until Playa-D started fucking up.
T-Rock did all he could do to cover up the fuck up. The payments to Casper got shorter and shorter. Soon he had to come clean to save himself. His friend was a dumb ass and he wasn’t going down with him.
Playa-D was a big trick. Besides his wife, he had ten baby mamas. Ten but only seven kids. Several sidepieces plus the strippers and jump offs. Even his mother had her palm out every time he saw her. All that pussy cost. It cost money at first but when they were summoned for a meeting, it was going to cost a lot more. A whole lot more.
“Please stop my ass!” Playa-D shouted as he tossed more money on the stage. "I’m tryna fuck that bitch!”
“That bitch isn’t tryna fuck you! Besides, we got a flight to catch in the morning to go meet with Baron,” T-Rock reminded.
“The Baron ain’t gon’ say shit to me,” Playa-D laughed. He knew from previous meetings that the man never spoke.
The pasty white man named Casper did all the talking because he actually ran the mob. An older white man used to do all the killing but he disappeared years ago. That’s when money started coming short. Casper let him put himself in the air, now it was time to kick away the chair. (Jay-Z)
“Yeah, you right,” T-Rock shrugged. He left him tossing his life at the stripper’s feet and went to tell his wife about his upcoming promotion.
The next morning T-Rock had to track Playa-D down for the flight. Platinum had chumped him off so he ended up at a baby mama’s house. Dude was so busy flirting with the ticket clerk he didn’t notice that T-Rock purchased a round trip ticket for himself but one-way for him. He would not be coming back.
Yolo had recently underwent the big chop and cut off her thick crop. Actually, she had a hairdresser cut it then killed her for it. It was a flimsy excuse but she did make number 91. Nine to go.
The short curly cut looked great on her cute face but also served practical purposes. It allowed her to rock an array of wigs that concealed and changed her identity. By far her favorite wig was the blond dreadlocks. It was heavy because the thick dreads as well as cap were made from bullet proof Kevlar.
She pulled on the wig and stepped into a tiny skirt over the leopard panties. A tight half t-shirt and sandals later she slinked into the boardroom where the meeting had begun.
Casper had already slapped Big Rock for declining sales in Baltimore. He blamed it on some outsiders from New York who came down and set up shop. Yolo drew slight attention as she swung her curvy little hips in the room. Most men shot a quick glace and turned back to the speaker. Not Playa-D though. He locked on the girl licking his lips lustfully watching her every step.
T-Rock tried to kick him under the table to alert him to the fact that Casper was calling his name. When Yolo plopped wide legged into a chair he zeroed in on the leopard print covered rabbit. The rest of the men could only shake their heads at what was to come. They gave him one last look knowing he would never be seen again. Not unless you wanted to go sifting through pig shit for him and ain’t nobody got time for that.
“Mr. Daryl I have called your name five times but you’re more concerned with the goings on between Yolo’s legs than in your own city,” Casper explained after slapping him viscously across his check.
“No,” he replied like a child as he raised his hand to the welts rising from the slap. He didn’t even hear the question he said ‘no’ to.
“You think if Yolo were to take you in the other room and suck your dick it would help your concentration?” he asked like a gracious host. What a great host!
A few of the men in attendance closed their eyes tightly and tried to beam him telepathic signals to shut the fuck up. Others shook their heads tersely hoping he would shut the fuck up. Only he would not shut the fuck up. Dumb ass nodded his head in agreement with what on the surface sounded like a good idea.
“You know what? A nigga is a lil uptight. Long ass plane ride. A good blowjob might take the edge off," he agreed, with his dumb ass.
Yolo couldn’t help laughing at the statement. She was going to take the edge off alright. She stood up and extended her small hand to lead the man off to slaughter. The second they cleared the room T-Rock was congratulated on his promotion.
“In here,” Yolo directed stepping aside so her victim could enter. He stepped in, in one piece, but would not leave the same way.
“Yolo that short for Yolonder? I got a cousin named Yolonder," he said making small talk.
“Nah, it’s an acronym,” she replied alluding to you only live once. Of course, she had no way of knowing how or why she was named, but guessed correctly. You only live once.
“If you suck this real good I’ma let you ride it,” Playa-D announced as he produced his semi erect dick and stroked it.
“That’ll be a first,” she chuckled at the generous offer.
Yolo had been too busy killing to think about boys. Not to mention Killa had her heart so she was saving her cherry for him. Since she was fond of the outfit and didn't want to ruin it she stepped out of it and put it in a drawer.
When she knelt in front of him he handed his now rock hard cock to her and leaned back royally. She took it with one hand and reached under
the bed with the other. That’s where She-Ra’s bag was. Yup, same bag with the knives.
“Ouch! Damn!” Daryl griped when Yolo bit the head sharply.
“So sorry,” Yolo giggled and bowed like a geisha girl. She planted loud kisses were she bit to ease the pain. It did the trick and he laid back down. Yolo took him in her mouth slowly and gently and then bit him again. This time she bit him harder at the base of the shaft causing him to pop up again. When he did, she locked eyes and slid him back into her mouth.
The player watched her work her head and hands until he was satisfied she would not bite him again. She didn’t, the next time he laid back she pulled out the knife. The super sharp blade cut through the hard dick like a hot knife through soft butter. Playa-D winced from the dull pain and looked up to see Yolo still sucking his dick. A second later, he realized she was standing up. He looked down to where his dick should have been just in time to see a long arch of blood skeet with his heartbeat.
“Give me that!” he insisted planning to put it back. Sure, it wasn’t a rational request, but in his defense, he just got his dick cut off. Give him a break.
“I used to be scared of dick. Now I throw lips to the shit” Yolo ripped into the severed penis as she scampered away.
Of course, Playa-D gave chase; she did have his dick after all. He chased her around the small room losing more blood with every step. He almost had her when he grabbed a handful of dreads. Yolo shook her head and came out of the wig and got away.
Playa-D ran out of steam and dropped to his knees. He reached out for his dick and fell onto his face. He looked so sad when he passed Yolo felt sorry for him.
“Here then,” she offered apologetically and put his penis in his pocket.
Yolo showered, changed, and arrived back in the boardroom just as Casper announced the solution to the problem Big Rock was having in his city. Her.
“Yolo pack a bag. You’re going to Baltimore.”
