H When Hell Is the Favourable Option......

by David C Jaundrell

  H Chapter 21

  Angelika

  Angelika Mauss loved sex.

  It was three in the afternoon and she was sitting up in bed. The soft blue silk sheets caressed her naked body while a man kneeled over her who had seven inches of cock in her mouth. She held his hips tightly and moved them backwards and forwards as quick as she could. She would have been even happier if there had been one in her pussy and one up her arse as well but alas….not today. She thought about that as she was having her face fucked and it made her even more wanton. She pushed his hips away.

  ‘Harder’ she demanded ‘harder!’

  She took a deep breath and he thrust it back in, pushing it as far down as it would go. As an accomplished exponent of fellatio she did not gag when it started to slide down her throat….just felt the incredible sensation of being filled up and let him pump…..

  The phone by the bed rang and startled her. She thought for a moment…. Take phone call? Take out cock? It was hardly a coin toss. More a dick toss. She tried to get it even farther in. The phone continued ringing… Why hadn't she put the answer phone on? Because this had been…impromptu.

  He had arrived to do an alteration to the kitchen cabinets and Angelika had a bit of a thing about quid pro quo……..if you're going to screw the cabinets its only fair you screw the person who's paying.

  A man had once been called to unblock an ‘S Bend’ and ended up in Angelicas’. It was only fair……

  The phone continued insistently and she inwardly groaned. Pushing his body away so that his cock came out she took a deep breath and leaned over to pick up the phone ‘Yes?’

  ‘My angel’

  She froze…. Oh Christ! ‘Heinrich, my love where are you?’

  ‘I'm in a taxi. I managed to get an earlier flight; isn't that wonderful’

  ‘Wonderful’ she said ‘how long will you be my love?’

  ‘I'm about fifteen minutes away’

  ‘Ok I'll go and put a pot of coffee on ready for you….’

  ‘See you soon’

  ‘My husband is in a taxi on his way here’ she said putting down the phone.

  ‘Oh shit’

  He started to move but she hung on ‘Finish!’ she commanded.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Finish!’

  ‘Your husband will be here in minutes!’

  The danger had excited her even more. There was a lot at stake but……

  ‘Finish it now’ she demanded and pulled him back in her mouth. Self preservation overcame any reticence on his part. If that's what it took to get out of there then……. He pumped like crazy, thought of the most obscene things possible and came in record time. She moved it from her throat to her lips, squeezed it to get every last drop and then her demeanour changed.

  ‘You have to go! Now!’ she screamed ‘my husband will be here very soon’

  Oh fuckjng wonderful thought the carpenter, fucking wonderful. Never again! Never again! His heart wouldn't stand it.

  ‘Quick!’ she screamed at him, her face changing from wanton slut to anxious housewife.

  Panic was setting in; he tried hard to put on his clothes but it was all going wrong. His pants went on back to front followed by ‘Fuck!’ and they stayed that way. Balancing on one leg to put his trousers on he overbalanced and smacked his head on the bottom of the bed. ‘Fuck!’

  With the situation overwhelming him he just grabbed his sweater, ran downstairs, put on his shoes, picked up his toolbox and ran down the path to the road where his van was waiting to take him away. The gate latch snagged his shirt, he stumbled and his tool box went flying before him and as it hit the road it burst open.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!

  He went to the box, righted it and started picking up his tools and fixings. Flustered he dropped them again…..

  ………Jorgen Mannesmann sat patiently in the Carrera as the Kitchen Fitter picked his tools up from the road.

  He smiled as he thought of Simone. Simone…… a French name for one of the children of the heir to a German dynasty. Not exactly popular with the family but………he did have a French wife. It was Simone's christening tomorrow and he was looking forward to that.

  It would be nice to be home….

  Jorgen noticed that the logo on the van was one of his fathers companies and the website pointed to the Group. He was very proud of what his family had accomplished and he was glad that there were proud of him.

  As the son of the owner of one of Germany's largest industrial Groups he was immensely wealthy and had everything he wanted in life that money could buy. He was also intellectually gifted. Whilst at Oxford he was President of the Union Debating Society, fluent in seven languages and an accomplished classical pianist.

  Jorgen was a happily married family man with a wife he loved and three children he adored; a man at one with his life.

  Seeing the traffic was building behind him he gave the horn a couple of gentle beeps and watched as the man looked up and acknowledged him.

  The sounding horn startled the fitter and he realised that his crouching body was in the middle of the road stopping the traffic. Looking behind him he saw the expensive car at the front of the procession and put up a hand in apology. He saw a hand acknowledge him. It was not an angry hand.

  He quickly picked up the rest of the tools, as many of the fixings as he could and jumped in the van.

  Jorgen put the Carrera into first and the big V went gently forward. The sharp fixings left on the road glinted in the sunlight for just a second before the Carrera passed over them…………

  Ten minutes later Heinrich opened the door, put down his travelling valise and went into the kitchen to be greeted by a cup of coffee and a sexy, half naked wife. What more could a man want? His marriage was truly blessed. He sat at the table and she sat on his lap. After kissing her lips he held her right breast and sucked her erect nipple…..

  Taking his lips away he tweeked her hard nipple ‘You are happy to see me….’ then he moved back down and put it back in his mouth.

  It was good to be home.

  When he had finished playing with her tits and they were sipping coffee he asked ‘By the way, did the kitchen fitter come?’

  ‘Yes’ she said. And behind the cup she sensuously licked her lips….

  H Chapter 22

  Needles

  At ten the next day H went to see needles at a smallholding on the outskirts of the city. The yard was untidy and the farmhouse needed a good pointing and lick of paint. It stood in about fifteen acres and sheep wandered around the grazing area. He walked around the house to several small outbuildings at the back. These looked even tattier and demolition rather than revamp would be in order. He opened the top half of a stable door to be confronted by a heavier door with an intercom.

  He pressed it and said ‘H’. The door clicked, he went in to a small entrance room where there were two easy chairs, a small table and magazines. He went through and opened another door to a much larger room. Brilliant white and looking like a surgeon's operating room – which it was. H saw two men unconscious on trolleys, their hands and feet strapped securely. Needles came over to him, they shook hands warmly and went back to the waiting room and shut the door.

  Needles was just a year or two younger than H and they had been friends for about ten years. Needles, whose actual name was Sebastian, was a brilliant surgeon whose only setback was the lack of a licence to practice his trade due to a small misunderstanding a few years ago. Since then he had been the preferred doctor or surgeon for every top criminal and well off mobster in Britain and for one or two abroad. And what needles couldn't do he could arrange and would be on hand to supervise so that his clients felt safe. His speciality was as expected; gunshot wounds, knife wounds, plastic surgery, abortions and the usual things that go with life for people who cannot go to an NHS hospital.

  He also, on rare occasions and for selected clients, would help with remedial medicine. This was essentially on peo
ple who couldn't remember things or for some reason had lost their power of speech and couldn't talk. Remedial, needles thought, sounded quite proper.

  Needles was tanned from a recent holiday in Courchevel in the French Alps which he did once a month for a week in the season. Needles could afford the time off and the skiing as he was the highest paid ‘doctor’ in Britain.

  H and Sebastian had a quick chat about life, what he wanted from his captives and then went in. The men on the trolleys were in one half of the room and H and needles were in the other. Needles dimmed the lights in their half and switched off the lights in the other. It was gloomy rather than dark which would suit needles from the point of view of recognition afterwards. Needles went over to the men and gave them an injection. The light anaesthetic wore off rapidly and they stirred.

  He moved to one side and H spoke from the shadows. ‘As you can see and feel you are bound to the trolleys. You have not been blindfolded or gagged. You can see very little but you will be able to see and hear each other. My questions are simple and if you answer them willingly and truthfully you will be taken from here and dropped off unharmed. If you refuse you will be subjected to pain that you never knew existed and from which there is no escape. You can scream as much as you like but no one will hear you. If you do not talk and we reach a point where we feel you need a better demonstration of our intent, one of your arms will be amputated. After another thirty minutes one of your legs will be amputated and we will carry on from there. If you die before you talk we will kill you. It's that simple’.

  One of the men burst into tears and started to shake; the other pulled and tugged at his straps but to no avail. Needles moved towards the first man. ‘As you may know’ his dark shape said ‘a man's body has several parts that are conducive for creating extreme pain; the eyes, testicles, inner ear, mouth and inside the anus. As we want you to see and hear I propose we do it in this order; testicles, anus, eyes, mouth and inner ear? Is that ok with you?’ he asked gently as though to a patient.

  They went wild. One started to stink as he lost control and shit himself. The other one sobbed with rivers of tears flooding down his face and his body convulsed. Needles let them inwardly die for a few moments until he felt the time was right then he moved to one with a large gleaming scalpel in his hand. He lifted the man's surgical gown to reveal his testicles and cupped them in his surgical gloves. Preparing the scalpel for the first incision the the man screamed hysterically, begging him not to do it. H slowly reached in his pocket and pressed the send button on his mobile. The phone on the desk went off and needles paused, irritated, but he put the scalpel down and went over to answer it. Speaking for a moment in Russian he beckoned H and they went out of the room. In the adjoining room needles and H smiled at each other then sat and watched the television monitors and the images of the two men. It took a few minutes for the men to regain any semblance of sanity.

  ‘They haven't worked out yet why they are getting hurt before we asked them any questions’ said H.

  The men were now talking to each other urgently and going from English to something like Estonian. ‘What do they want?’

  ‘What the fuck do you think they want?’

  ‘We're going to die’ wailed the one.

  ‘If we're that lucky’.

  ‘Let's tell them’

  ‘Tell them what? We don't know what the fuck they want?’

  ‘Tell them anything! Anything they want to know we can tell them’ Hysteria was starting to flood through him again and he started sobbing. ‘They'll kill us anyway’

  ‘They said they wouldn't’

  ‘He talked Russian’

  ‘What?’

  ‘On the phone he talked Russian. Are they mafia?’

  ‘What difference does it make? We could be in Russia now for all we know’

  ‘Do you really think we're in Russia?’

  ‘I don't want to die’

  ‘You should have thought of that before we agreed to do this. Fucking Androv the bastard getting us into this. Fucking easy he said. I don't fucking think so’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Tell them’

  ‘They'll kill us’

  ‘If we tell them we have a chance. If we don't we're going to suffer so badly and I can't take it’. He started to sob again and felt the warm liquid run between his legs as he wet himself.

  They gave them a few more minutes then went back in. Needles picked up the scalpel again and moved towards the man as though nothing had intervened.

  He screamed ‘What do you want to know?’

  H asked questions for about an hour and got everything he could but in truth it was not too much. It gave H a fair amount of background and it became clearer but he did not know who was doing it. These were just gofers doing an errand for someone else in Britain on behalf of someone else in Eastern Europe. Needles gave them a jab that knocked them out and then H rang Andy Pandy. After a few exchanged pleasantries he said ‘….both legs, clean breaks and by the way these boys are quite pretty………east European, nice chiselled features….’

  Andy Pandy would already be salivating at the thought. They wouldn't be pretty when Andy Pandy and the boys had finished with them and they would have two of the sorest arses in Britain……

  It was not ideal for H but at least it sent a message. He didn't know to whom but it told them he would not roll over.

  H Chapter 23

  The Ferrari

  A few days later it was time to go to Hathaway's Chateau to celebrate their good fortune. A ritual that had developed over time and Hathaway invited a few extra guests to attend that would add to the get together.

  H was going to drive to the chateau as it gave him a chance to give the Ferrari a decent run rather than be shut away the majority of the year which it usually was. H had driven Ferraris ever since he could afford them and had a 599 on order but that would be another eighteen months before it arrived. In the garage alongside the Merc sat a gleaming red 360 Modena 2 door Convertible. Only two years old it had done less than four thousand miles and its 3.6L V8 engine hardly used.

  H loved driving Ferrari's. He particularly liked the 360 with its 395 horsepower and pop up headlights, in smooth styled clusters which made it look sleeker and even classier. He had also opted for semi automatic transmission which still took the 360 to sixty miles an hour in about four seconds with a top speed a shade under a hundred and ninety miles an hour - or so the brochure said.

  He would drive with Benny through Germany to Geneva where she would catch a plane to Rome to stay with a girlfriend for a few days, while H drove on through France to the Chateau.

  The long run would give the Ferrari a good blow out otherwise it was a waste of the driving lessons he had paid for at Maranello. They caught a ferry across the North Sea to Amsterdam then drove and stayed overnight in Essen in Germany.

  Five kilometres from the Autobahn he stopped at a die tankstelle and filled the twenty five gallon tank. With the Ferrari doing about fifteen miles to the gallon he could go three hundred odd miles without a stop which at the most would be three hours dependent on traffic but with a good wind H was hoping for nearer just over two!

  He pulled on to the Number 7 Autobahn which travelled straight through Germany from North to South and being relatively clear he took the 360 up to 120 mph, kept it there for about ten minutes and then up to 140. Benny was a touch nervous but said nothing.

  After an hour his rear view mirror lit up with blazing headlights. H looked momentarily and saw a Porsche Carrera GT coming up to him like a bat out of hell. Oh fuck….. If there was one car you didn't really want up your arse it was this one. Typical thought H; here I am in one of the fastest Ferraris in the world and blowing me out of the way is a six litre fucking monster that ought to be at Le Mans; not up my arse. Bastard!

  He looked at the sparse road ahead. Ah well……. and floored the accelerator. The semi automatic box shifted down and the prancing horse four hundred hors
epower forty valve, quad cam engine responded instantly. The Ferrari flew forward to one sixty, on upwards to one seventy, one eighty…….. one eighty five. Benny was getting more nervous and gripped the seat tightly. They were going past cars as though standing still and the thought that one may just decide to pull out……….? Holy Mother this was too fast….too fast. She wanted desperately to tell James to slow down but was terrified it would cause a lapse of concentration and they could both be killed……

  H glanced at the speedometer. One eighty six ……..one eighty six….. …one eighty six…….where the fuck was the one eighty nine it said in the brochure? With another flash of its lights as a reminder of its superiority the silver Carrera edged closer, H pulled over, it overtook and went on up to it's top speed of two hundred and five.

  H was elated but deflated. He had found out the Ferrari's top speed much quicker than he had anticipated but had got trounced doing so……… Easing off the throttle he brought the 360 down to a more manageable one forty and let the Porsche go into the distance. The Ferrari and the speed made H feel alive. It was wonderful! He looked at Benshima and saw she was white so he brought the car down to a gentle hundred for a while.

  On quiet stretches he went down to sixty or so and then floored it. Benny was squeezed back into the seat and she teasingly berated him for being childish. He smiled and so did she. She adored this man and she loved him being happy.

  But she desperately wanted him to live……..

  The driver of the Carrera smiled and held up a comradely hand as he went past the Ferrari.

  He knew the 5.7 litre V10 could go past the Ferrari.

  He had a 360 Modena sitting in the garage at home…….amongst his other cars.

  H Chapter 24

  The Cabal

  To one side the sun glistened on the ocean. To the other the scattered and untidy materials of the building site and beyond that the beautiful rugged mountains.