by AJ Adams
I made sure when I built the house that I didn’t touch the surroundings. Nature usually does a better job of landscaping than anything we can create. For me she provides some good pasture, a sprinkling of mature oaks and crystal clear river water that keeps the place cool.
When I’m home, I’m either sitting in the back yard looking at the river, or I’m in it. Running is hell on the knees, so I make it a point to keep in shape by swimming a few miles several times a week.
You’ll understand that my home is pretty much my idea of heaven. The other thing I like about it is that it’s isolated. To get there, you drive about 40 clicks south of Nuevo Laredo on the road to Reynosa. Slow down at milestone 43, and look for the private road on your left. You can see the bungalow at the end, just where the river twists and bulges.
It’s a glorious place to live, but you won’t find any housing developments here. We don’t allow it. This place is ours, and we don’t want city scum fucking it up. Some of Arturo’s lieutenants live a few miles downriver, but they have their own road. They like to hang together, but I’m not much for company, so we’re careful to stay out of each other’s faces. I can go for days without seeing anyone, and that’s the way I like it.
When we blasted out of Arturo’s place the sun was low on the horizon. It was one of those glorious evenings where the clouds are pink, orange and that strange blue-green that designers call aqua. Normally I’d be tempted to go for a long ride, but with my bonus clinging to my back, I was totally focused on the upcoming fun and games that come with the other kind of ride.
The road was deserted as always, so I let the Blackbird rip. That’s another advantage of the cartel: if you’re not one of us, you’ll need an armed escort to get to my place; we keep an eye on traffic and tend to disappear casual visitors rather than warning them. The effect is that there is seldom traffic on the road.
I was enjoying the ride, but I noticed the bonus was clinging tighter. If she’d moved, I would have had to slow down on the curves, but she fused her body into mine – just like she had when I was fucking her face earlier. I liked the way she did that. This was going to be a good night. Maybe even a couple of nights.
When we slid to a halt at the end of the road, the bonus didn’t seem to realise we’d stopped. She just held on and made little moaning noises. So much for thinking she was into the ride; speed clearly wasn’t her thing. It didn’t matter, the way she was hanging on felt pretty good.
I flicked the electric gate opener and watched the garage doors open smoothly. Every time I do that, I half expect a big fireball. That’s why I always stop a good twenty meters away, out of the direct line of fire, where I’m protected by some solid oaks. If they wanted to get me from here, they’d need a pound of C-4 loaded with ball bearings—and even then they’d have to get lucky.
When nothing blew up, I peeled the bonus off my back and told her to go sit on the porch while I checked things out. I’d only been away for two hours, but you can never be too careful. After rolling the Blackbird into its slot, I checked the board. Everything was flashing a nice, reassuring green. Certain that nobody had breached the perimeters, I relaxed.
The bonus was sitting on the porch, clutching her backpack and looking like shit. It had been a long, busy day for her.
I pushed her into the house and walked her straight to my bathroom. I was half expecting tears or hysterics, but she just stood quietly as I stripped her. The jeans had survived, but the torn tee was going straight into the burn pile. There were some long scratches around her hips and waist, and a tonne of blackening finger bruises all over her body, but she was in pretty good shape, all things considered.
I switched on the shower and pushed her into the stall. While she sudsed up with soap and shampoo, I ran the tub for her, too. A good hot soak does wonders for sore muscles.
The washing machine had dealt with my work clothes but they still smelled a bit odd, so I added her jeans and put them through another cycle. Looking at my black jeans taking another dose of detergent, and remembering how they’d squelched with gore earlier, I decided it was time for another shower. My hair is the regulation one inch long, and I’d washed it twice already, but it still felt sticky.
Some people in my line of work have nightmares. I sleep like a baby, but for a few hours after a job, my imagination works overtime. It goes away after a few hours, but it helps if I’ve got a nice distraction. The bonus would make for a perfect distraction, so I picked out a bottle of tequila, a fancy reserve that Arturo had gifted me the month before, and went to join her.
Instead of soaking in the tub, she was in front of the mirror, trying to see the back of her neck. When she saw me, she froze and then gave herself a little shake. She smiled tentatively, as if unsure if it was the right thing to do. Then she looked down at her feet, too shy to look me in the eye. From the look of her, she’d drop to her knees in a second if I told her to.
From the bits and pieces I’d read in that dream book of hers, the submissive bit is something she used to do for Him, the unnamed man who she was so terrified of, who she’d do anything to please. I’d say he was more nightmare than dream, but that might be because I don’t understand women much.
I’m reckoned by some to be a bit of a nightmare myself. Most of my associates call me chismoso, that’s blabbermouth if you don’t speak Mexican, because I don’t talk much. When they think I can’t hear them, they call me Mixcoatl, that’s one of the Aztec warrior gods, the one that hunted you down and demanded blood sacrifices. They call me that because even if you don’t know what I do for a living, just the way I handle myself makes me come across as a bad bastard.
By the looks of it, the bonus thought she was a step away from Mixcoatl himself. She had a bad case of the frights. She was trying to look as small as possible, and she was shivering.
I’m a bad bastard, but I don’t actually enjoy rape. I prefer them willing. If I were going to make the most of my little bonus, I’d have to put some effort into being nice to her.
I reached out and touched her hair, running my fingers gently through it. It felt like raw silk. “Feeling a bit better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” The voice was small and rough. I guess that was partially my fault. I knew I’d hit the back of her throat when we were getting acquainted, back in Arturo’s rose garden. There was a pair of small bruises forming underneath her hairline too. I had the nasty feeling that was where I’d been holding her steady.
When you’re my size, it’s easy to hurt, so I tend to be careful around women. With the bonus I’d let myself go, and I can’t say I was proud of it. I was careful to be gentle as I held her against me and stroked her hair. “That hot tub is for you too. Get into it and soak for fifteen minutes. It will help take the ache out of those bruises.”
When I let her go, she got straight into it, even though the water was just a few degrees from scalding hot. The bits of her that weren’t black and blue instantly went lobster red. The way she looked, she was going to be stiff and sore for a few days unless she got some help. I got a Soma out of my medical kit and got her a glass of cold milk from the kitchen, too. Soma’s a terrific muscle relaxant, so I always keep it in stock for the times when someone bashes me before I get a chance to put them down. The milk was a reflex – my mother used to make me drink an extra glass whenever I’d been hurting from a fight, and the habit stuck for life.
When I handed the pills and the milk to the bonus, she looked at both with wide eyes, and then, for the first time, she gave me a real smile. For a moment I could see the pretty girl underneath all the contusions. “Thanks.”
“Take another fifteen minutes, and then come and express your gratitude properly. I’ll be waiting in bed.”
Instantly her face was wiped clean of all expression. Then she gave me that careful, whipped smile again. I have that effect on some people.
I took another shower and went to wait for her. I picked up the dream book and was downing my second shot of tequila when I heard th
e tub drain. She came sidling out, looking as if her last moment had come, and she ground to a halt by the side of the bed. She twitched a bit, as if she was going to go down on her knees and say her prayers, but then she came to attention like a Marine might. Having read the better part of her dream book, I had a good idea of what was worrying her. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn that He was Arturo’s twin brother.
“How long ago did this all happen?” I asked while showing her the dream book.
“I’ve been free eight years,” she said. Her voice cracked. It could have been emotion or just an effect of her busy day. Her face gave nothing away.
“Has there been anyone since?”
She was still expressionless but her hands twitched. “Three years ago.”
“Been tested since?” She looked blank. “Have you been tested for the clap? The plague?”
“Yes. I’m clean.”
That was good news. I put the dream book away, pulled back the coverlet and patted the bed invitingly. She slid in and rested against me, curling into my waist and putting an arm around me. It was a pose of trust and vulnerability, as sweet as a kitten –and totally fake. I could feel her heart racing, and the heat of her body wasn’t just due to the effects of the tub. She was shit scared.
So I set about gentling her. I stroked her hair, massaged her shoulders and fed her sips of tequila. Combined with the Soma, they settled her, but it wasn’t until I started sweet-talking that she really relaxed. I called her a sweetheart, a honey and an angel, and when I ran out of things to say in English, I switched into Farsi to tell her she was as pretty as a flower, the delight of my heart and a sweetly fragrant treasure. Farsi is a pretty romantic language – if you discount all the things they say when they’re killing each other for being the wrong religion, tribe or sex, that is.
She lapped it up and relaxed, curving sweetly into me. After some more tequila, she gave a gentle sigh and didn’t even wince when I finally turned her onto her back. The sun was going down, filling the room with a pink glow and deepening shadows. Nature can be very romantic, too.
I was dying to run through my own version of the dream book, so I thought I’d be thorough and start at the first scene. Except that where He tied her down, blindfolded her, and fucked her till she stopped crying, I was planning to make sure she was enjoying herself, too.
I kissed her eyelids before picking out the airline mask I keep in my bedside dresser for when I want to nap in the day. “I’ll take it slow,” I promised her. She nodded and closed her eyes as I slid it in place. I moved her arms up gently until her hands were touching the bed’s brass bars. “Shoulders all right?” I whispered. She nodded again. The Soma was really doing its job, and the tequila was taking the edge off any lingering nerves. I dug in the dresser again and secured her hands with a thick, soft cotton scarf I wear when I have to go up north for a job in fall or winter. She was holding her breath, so I dropped kisses on her wrists and elbows to show her I was going to be friendly.
She breathed again, and when I kissed my way down her face, stopping to nuzzle her breasts and then moving down her belly to the soft warm spot between her legs, she moved her knees apart to give me better access.
Another man might have taken this as a sign she was enjoying herself, but I knew better: it might have been three years since she’d fucked anyone, but this girl was on autopilot. This was something she’d done for Him. It was all right, but I set about rewriting the script by doing something He’d not done for her: I started eating her out.
When I first ran my tongue over her clit, she cringed and tried to push her way down through the mattress. I think she thought I was going to bite her. After gentle words and trailing kisses along the velvet inside of her thighs, I tried again. I wasn’t sure what she’d do, so I made sure I had a firm hold on her legs. If she recoiled again and tried to go through the ceiling, I didn’t want her pussy bones breaking my nose.
It was all right, though. This time when the tip of my tongue brushed the little tight bud, she froze. I kissed and licked, then used my hands to stroke her stomach and thighs for good measure. I knew she’d realised I wasn’t going to be a tricky bastard when she exhaled and loosened up. Ten minutes later, when I was rubbing her clit with one finger, and sucking sweet juices from her soft folds, her knees came to rest around my ears, and she moaned softly. I knew I had her then.
I slipped a finger inside her pussy and fucked her gently with it. She was now soaking wet and making small motions with her hips. When I dipped in with my tongue again, lapping the hot, tight clit at the top of the creaminess, she gasped with pleasure. A steady sucking led to her pussy muscles rippling tightly around my finger. I added a second finger and moved them both slowly in and out of her. She made a small growling noise and brought up her legs, settling her heels on my back. I upped the pace, making sure my fingers kept a gentle pressure inside her while I tongued and sucked her soft flesh.
She moaned, arched and finally tensed, her toes digging into my back as she came in a sweet, creamy wave. When she stopped shimmering, I kissed her lightly on the belly and patted her thigh to show her it was my turn.
I grabbed a condom and settled over her. I stopped to give her quick kisses on the side of her face to reassure her, but I needn’t have bothered: the bonus was past the point of being afraid. She was rubbing up against me, encouraging me to have my fun. I put the tip of my cock against her hot, creamy centre and paused for a moment to take in the body beneath me. Instantly, the image of the other one came back.
I’d gagged her so we didn’t disturb the neighbours and turned her face down over the back of the sofa so he could look into her eyes as I was doing her. Despite the panties I’d jammed in her mouth, her muffled screams had echoed in the room as I’d fucked her.
I make no apology for what I did. They knew the risk when they decided to betray us. They also knew they were dead when I walked in and started asking questions, but like fools they tried to lie to me. If they’d come clean immediately, it would have been a quick shot to the head and game over. But they told different stories, so I had to sort out what was true and what was not.
I taped him to a chair and decided to begin with the woman. She broke the second I started slapping her about, but she didn’t know the whole story, so when he wouldn’t come clean, I warned him it wouldn’t be him that suffered, but her. He told me to go to hell, so I got ready to take her in front of him. Usually that’s when they break. This bastard told me to go ahead. So I took her. I thought he’d tell me to stop, that he’d talk, but he didn’t.
He didn’t break until I told him his daughter was next. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. He talked, and when I was sure I had it all, I cut the woman’s throat.
The knife is good because it’s fast and silent. It’s also merciful. I don’t think she even felt it. The drawback is arterial spray. I got a good soaking from her.
I knew Arturo wanted to discourage anyone else from even thinking about going over to the opposition, so I needed to send a particularly strong message. Looking at him, and thinking of his name, Jesus, gave me the idea. Luckily he had a well-stocked garage. I picked up some six inch nails, a heavy duty hammer and went to work.
I put up the woman first, and as I hammered the nails through her wrists, I got another shower of blood. Actually, I was quite pleased about it. People tend to focus on the gore when there’s an execution, and this one was bound to provoke some very clear thinking about the importance of loyalty.
When she was up, it was his turn. She’d been dead meat when I started pounding nails into her, and I could have taken him out first, too, but I hadn’t liked the way he’d given his woman up so easily. When I put him up, he was alive. It took a bit of doing but I managed it. Unfortunately he died in the middle of it all. I think it was a heart attack, because I was careful not to let him bleed out. I was a bit disappointed, and I have the suspicion that his woman would have liked him to last a bit longer, too.
; Anyway, although his heart stopped pumping before I’d finished, it was still a messy job. By the time I added crowns of tinfoil, twisted into circles (did I mention I’m creative?) I was dripping with blood, gore and bits of bone.
The other one had been screaming when I took her; my little bonus was moaning in an altogether different way as I slid into her. I kept up the flow of sweet nothings, figuring it would help keep her enthusiasm high. Like the gentleman I can be, I was taking my weight on my elbows so that I didn’t crush her. The bonus was enjoying herself far too much to be a lady: her legs scissored around me, and her heels crossed over the small of my back as she tried to pull me all the way inside her. This wasn’t in her dream book, and that move was definitely not a learned one. She was having a good time.
I plunged inside her, feeling her welcoming warm wetness gripping my cock. Her moans told me she was going to come again. I distanced myself, thrusting slowly in and out of her hot, slick softness and sucking on those pebbled rosy nips until she tightened, gasped and peaked again.
I decided to improvise by adding an edited rerun of my morning. I pulled out of her, flipped her over, and, kissing her shoulder blades first so that she would know this would be fun, too, I knelt over her, put my forearms next to her shoulders, and used my knees to spread hers wide. She was settled too low for me to fuck her easily, so I shoved a pillow under her hips. It was perfect.
I slid into her again, driving all the way in slowly and pulling out before launching into her again. As she’s just a little thing, and I top six feet and am built in proportion, I had to make sure I wasn’t banging into her cervix. It would have ruined the effect of all the foreplay. When she lifted her hips, welcoming me inside with a little whimper of pleasure, I stopped the gentle giant act and let rip.
