Nashville, Tennessee
No matter how hard Tempest struggled to move forward, the van always seemed to roll backwards and downhill, making her entire existence fucking miserable. At the tender age of sixteen, she had made a list of all the shit she didn’t want in her life but instead ended up with a new list of how she managed to acquire all the items she swore she didn’t desire. The new reality of the Glitter Man being hot on her heels, dropping glitter all over her tits with schoolhouse glue while she slept, topped that list.
“He is nuts,” she whispered, picking up a bag of scrap quilt pieces from the bin, a small habit she started years ago when she came into the little store. The owner of the small store asked the same question each time Tempest came through the door.
“That quilt done yet, Honey?” Maylene asked again. “Are you working with a glitter fabric? You look all sparkly over there.”
“Almost there, Maylene. I just need a few more pieces here and there,” Tempest replied with the same lie she’d been telling for six years. The glitter on her clothing and hands she wouldn’t comment on. She would try again to wash more of it off her fingers, but that stuff never truly went away no matter how much soap and water was applied to the situation.
After paying for the bag of scrap fabric, she carried it to the white van which she also referred to as her shop, and added the fabric to the pink bin under the shelf of cleaning supplies. She did plan at one point to start making a quilt, but her life didn’t flow that way. Any day, any moment, she could be called in to clean up a hit or a crime scene from a technician who had allowed the job to get a bit messy.
There were nine technicians and Tempest made the tenth member of The Company, Eastern Division, and became the glue which somewhat held them altogether. Lately, a few of the members had become almost symbiotic, reaching out to her ahead of Beauty, which had become a problem with the boss. Tempest never made a move unless the call came from Beauty herself. At times she felt like a mother to the team, cleaning up their messes and often holding them together after a tough job. Like any mother, Tempest never said which technician was her favorite. She did have preferences of who she liked to work with and which technicians made her stomach roil. Of the ten-tech team, there were only two females, herself and Mrs. Hump.
Mrs. Hump had been inactive for a while, but for at least five years, that woman had kept her busy and rolling in the dough. In between times, Tempest managed to keep life interesting with three loving men in her life. Her home was right outside of Athens, Georgia in an older, more established neighborhood with senior citizens, good neighborly people who kept an eye on her place when she was on the road, making stops, working, or just plain loving.
Once, she had tried living a normal life and experienced the whole family thing, but as she tried futilely to explain to her mate, “Not every woman is mother material.”
Ferdinand Muldrake never understood that about Tempest. After two years of constant togetherness, Tempest had given up trying to make him achieve the level of clarity she needed. Instead, she had found Jacob. She had also found Markham. And once, a long time ago, she had shared a special night with Nathaniel Mann, who openly explained to her face that she was entirely too broken to be a permanent part of his life.
Tempest shrugged him off and found Timothy, a mild-mannered man who enjoyed pampering women, tea parties, and delightful conversation. At times, he enjoyed dressing as a woman and loved doing hair. The sex ranked high on her list of interesting, but not earth shattering. Timothy’s head skills made him worth the monthly stop for a good licking to keep her heart ticking. He lived in Columbus, Ohio and was her third week of the month stop. Markham was her second favorite, right after Jacob.
Markham lived in Nashville and usually received a visit from Tempest on the second week of the month. Today, she was running scared and would pop in on him in about two hours. It was going to be an uncommon visit since she still had a ‘poom’ filled with last night’s activities with Jacob. She hadn’t had a chance to wash and Markham would want her on the rack.
“Shit, Tempest,” she mumbled, locking the back door of the van and sipping on the coffee. Coffee was the last thing she needed on her upset stomach. At some point, she needed to call Beauty. At some point, she would have to face the reality that the Glitter Man killed Jacob and wanted her dead. At some point, those things really needed to happen. Yet she was more focused on Markham. She placed the call to him instead.
“Mark...baby, I need to see you, now,” she said in the line, her voice breathy.
“Come on, Baby. Daddy is always ready for you,” he replied in that calm baritone that made her vaginal muscles contract as if her love canal had teeth greedily trying to get at the last bit of apple from the core.
He had that effect on her considering he’d trained her body to respond to his every touch and command. Tempest didn’t really mind coming over to his place. When she was with Markham, their interactions were all about the wow. She didn’t need to think. She didn’t need to be in charge or in control, just feel. She loved the way he made her feel all the emotions her brain refused to process in daily interactions with other humans. Once more she thought of the selfishness of the Glitter Man, out there destroying lives with no real concern for the long-term impact of his actions. It angered her inside and out.
The phone in her hand chimed with the arrival of a new message.
It was from Markham.
He sent a dick pick of himself on the ready, holding the punishing instrument in his hand.
All thoughts of the Glitter Man went out the window as she pondered play time with Markham and his sweet instrument of torture. She grinned as she turned the nose of the vehicle, heading straight into Nashville. Markham was waiting for her, waiting to punish his Tempest for her naughty deeds.
“YOU SMELL LIKE ANOTHER man! Get in there and strip down so I can wash you from head to toe,” Markham shouted at her.
“Yes, Daddy,” Tempest answered, bowing her head and scuttling down the hall. Truthfully, she needed to disclose what was happening to her and the life she was leading, as well as the Glitter Man following her steps, but Mr. Mann was right – she was broken. The thing she wanted more than anything was to be punished by Markham.
She wanted him to reduce her to a quivering pile of jelly in recompense for losing Jacob. His body wasn’t even cold yet, and she was ready to be placed on a rack and punished by making her cum six or seven times consecutively in a row. Besides, Jacob was dead. She couldn’t help him. The clues led back to the Glitter Man. Rami would get the recognition he wanted. She would get to have more orgasms and punished at the same time for failing Jacob.
Then she would call Beauty. Now, it was all about Markham, who demanded her undivided attention.
“Why have you been giving my goodies to some other man, Tempest?” he asked, smacking her softly across the bottom as she tried to slip past him.
“I need to talk to you, Mark,” Tempest tried to say.
“You don’t call me Mark! My name is Markham or Sir or Daddy. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Sir, and I need to be punished for being a bad girl, but I also need your help,” she said, stepping into the bathroom.
Tempest undressed, taking off the skirt and revealing stained yellow panties. Markham scowled in disgust. She removed the blouse to reveal her breasts, covered in rose gold glitter, some of which had flaked off, leaving gaps in the pattern The Glitter Man had taken care and time to create.
“What the hell is this, Baby? You playing games with some other prick? My cock ain’t good enough for that tight little snatch of yours?”
He said it in such a way that Tempest’s eyes went to the front of his pants. Just as sure as she was covered in glitter, Markham was hard as a rock, and her body responded. The thing she liked about him more than the others, outside of him being a sadist, was that he loved to make her cum as punishment. The other thing she loved about him was that beautiful thick cock. Seven thick,
fat, ridiculously chubby inches with an overly large mushroom head that each time it slid into her she would squirt like a water gun in an excited six-year-old’s hand. Unlike Jacob, who had length and power, Markham had girth, which felt like her hole was being stretched to the limits, coupled with nipple clips and a suspension rack that allowed him to lick every orifice on her body; all of the shenanigans that kept her coming back each month.
“Strip, Tempest!”
She removed the dirty underwear as he started the cool shower, washing her from the top of her shoulders down to the girl curls, matted from the residue of Jacob. He threw a cloth at her, along with a bar of Dial soap, making her sit on the edge of the oversized tub, her legs spread wide, the water spraying in between her legs each time she wiped with the rag.
“Daddy, Baby needs to talk with you. It’s important,” Tempest said, loving the intimacy of Markham watching her wash.
“Can’t be that fucking important. You haven’t said the magic word to take us out of play,” he said, touching the front of his bulge in his pants. “I think, this time I shall only allow you to cum three times before I fuck you until that tight little snatch creams all over my hard as a rock cock.”
“Markham, seriously, I have a problem,” Tempest interjected, not feeling shame for the moisture building between her legs.
“Your primary problem right now is pleasing me. The rest, we can discuss later. To the rack...now!” he yelled, rubbing himself briskly. He could barely wait to get his pants off as she entered the closet he used as his sex dungeon. The dungeon was a large space, a walk-in closet for a couple the size of a small bedroom. At one point, Tempest recalls Markham bragging that the original floor plan labeled it as a home office. The previous owner turned it into a walk-in closet. Markham turned it into a personal sex-room. He called the room the Red-Light Zone, to coincide with the red leather gear and one red light bulb in a red lamp shaped like a throbbing penis.
“Tiddlywinks,” she said, using the safe word to take them out of play.
“Please, Tempest, not now. Just let me,” Markham started to say as he walked up to her. The dampness from the shower had made her skin slick. His cock stood stiff, ready, and jutting upwards, making her ache with longing at seeing it. He moved quickly, pressing her against the slanted rack. Markham lifted her legs, sliding them into the holders which opened her hips wide and placing the juncture between her thighs in the perfect position. His breathing was ragged as he stepped in the space between the open legs, rubbing the tip of his penis over her labia, then quickly jamming it inside of her vagina.
“Oh, shit!” Tempest yelled out, ashamed at being so easy. A moment of embarrassment hit her deep for cumming so quickly and wanting to cry as she begged him for more.
“Yes, that’s my good girl. Cum for Daddy,” Markham said, clamping the bracelets around her wrists. As quickly as he had jammed himself inside of her, he pulled out, dropping to one knee to use his mouth.
He held the control for the rack in one hand and used it to lift her body higher in the air as he came to his feet, his mouth perfectly positioned to lick, snack, and bite anything he pleased. Markham pressed the button on the rack making the table gently vibrate as light electrical shocks sizzled at her wrist. Tempest, in the position she was in, couldn’t see his face.
“Markham, I said the safe word.” She repeated, “Tiddlywinks,” but there was no answer. “Markham?”
Tempest cried out his name. Her head turned left then right, listening, straining to hear what she could not see. A soft moan escaped his lips, then an agonizing wail from the back of Markham’s throat. The thudding of her heart raced blood to her ears hindering her ability to think straight.
“Senses, focus on the senses,” Tempest said to herself.
She could no longer feel Markham’s mouth or his hands. Struggling to look down and see where her lover had gotten off to, the bare feet were no longer present, but instead a pair of heavy black boots. Tempest’s breath caught in her throat.
The boots belonged to the Glitter Man.
He’d found her.
Just that quick.
He was here.
She blinked several times, trying to adjust her eyes to the reality that she and Markham were about to die. If today was the day, she wasn’t ready. There were real wrongs she needed to right. Loved ones who needed to hear from her. She had to live. Play along with him, Tempest, so you can get away. Play along. Live.
Rami knew all of her tricks and wasn’t about to allow her to ease out of the issue that easily.
“Rami, Glitter Man, can we talk this through? Maybe I can help you get what you want,” Tempest said, trying to stall for an opening to save both of their lives.
“See, that’s the problem with selfish bitches like you, Tempest. You chose to get butt naked and spread your legs first before warning this man about his impending death,” Rami said, stepping from the shadows.
In his hand, he held the throat of one nearly nude Markham Robertson, the assistant District Attorney for the City of Nashville. Mark’s eyes were wide in fear as he looked at the man in the Halloween mask and at Tempest.
“Yes, Mr. Weirdo, she knew I was hot on her trail which is why she ran to you,” Rami said softly. “You’re just as bad as she is—a woman is in trouble and this is the first thing you think about? What the fuck is all of this any way? Your cock don’t work unless you have a black woman in chains? And you, Tempest...”
The sound of Rami’s tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth made tears well in her eyes. He moved from the shadows so she could see the mask on his face. The humiliation was far greater than she’d anticipated.
“Don’t try to cry now, Tempest,” Rami said. “You weren’t crying over Jacob’s dead body. Yes, Mr. Weird Man, those stains in her panties were from the hump she had last night. Not even three hours later, she’s here, cumming like a freight train for you. The sad part is, that mutherfucker ain’t even cold yet, and here you are, your shit still caked up with Jacob’s jizz, getting spit on by another sick bastard who just wants to use you. Girl, you are seriously fucked up in the head, you know that?”
Tempest swallowed hard. The tears choking her words, but she wouldn’t give him any more satisfaction.
“What do you want Ra...I mean Glitter Man? I was just following orders. I was told to get rid of the Sheriff and drop some glitter. It’s not even the same color you use. If I wanted to set you up, I would have used the same type of rose gold,” Tempest pleaded.
“Bitch, please! I just ordered the rose gold last month, which works out well for me going forward. Give me a signature calling card color,” he said, squeezing Markham’s throat tighter while taking out his phone. “Let’s make this worthwhile for all involved, shall we?”
She knew the tone of the three numbers he pressed in the same order she’d used so many times. He held the phone in the air as the dispatch operator talked into the line.
Tempest yelled, “Help. Help us!”
“Ma’am what is your location?” the operator wanted to know.
“Caldwell Towers, downtown, apartment 718, please hurry,” she screamed into the air.
“Units are on the way. Is anyone in immediate danger?”
“Yes, Bitch, me! The Glitter Man is trying to kill us,” Tempest yelled and Rami ended the call.
“See, wasn’t that simple,” Rami said, raising his foot and kicking Markham in his exposed scrotum.
The Glitter man dragged Markham, holding himself and tearing up from the pain, across the floor by one arm, unlocking the hanging ankle cuffs and snapping them on Markham’s arms. Tempest, panicking, locked in herself, looked left and right to see what Rami was staring at.
“No, please, no,” she said, spotting the butt plug and other items Markham used either on himself or on other people who visited the dungeon.
Tempest could almost feel the sinister smile behind the mask looking down at the writhing Assistant District Attorney. If Beauty’s plan
s had been to humiliate and frame Rami in order to get the likes of the Glitter Man out of her hair, she just didn’t know who she’d angered.
Rami was a different type of vengeful. He didn’t understand or believe in mercy anymore. If he had to take them all down one by one, he would.
Beauty.
The Technicians.
All of the carefully cultivated law enforcement buddies who made it easy for the contracted assassins to fuck over people’s lives as if they were better than everyone else had made it to Rami’s list. Looking at Tempest, butt naked on a slab, proved just how demented those people were and how they cared for no one but themselves. If nothing else, he would fix the broken part of Tempest and bring her to heel.
The Glitter Man held the butt plug in his left hand, a bag of glitter in the right. He generously sprinkled rose gold flakes over the device and pointed it at Markham. As much as Markham tried to scramble away, his hands were harnessed and chained to the rack, leaving him susceptible to what happened next. The squeezing of his throat left him hoarse, unable to cry out over a harsh whisper.
Tempest turned her head to the left, looking away as Markham whimpered loudly in pain. Rami chuckled manically, enjoying the spray of rose gold onto the floor and down Mark’s legs. He was also certain that once dispatch realized whose address it was that the higher ups in the department would want to handle the call for help personally.
In the background, the sound of sirens hastened his movements.
“Oh Tempest, I wouldn’t go to Columbus and see Timothy if I were you,” Rami said as he waved goodbye. “He has a cousin who is also a Technician, but you knew that, right? That’s why you went out of your way to do a job that was outside of your pay grade. You were trying to protect his cousin. Bitch, aren’t you curious now who is going to protect you from me?”
Flat on the table, she barely heard his footsteps going out of the condo, but moments later, she heard the rumble of footsteps coming in. Markham held his head low in shame as paramedics came through the door. Professionalism went out the window as the men tried not to laugh, but the police chief also arrived, taking note of the sheer amount of glitter on the floor. His attention went to Tempest, whom he draped in a sheet.
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