by marat
Chapter Three
Lynn Simms
slumped in her chair. Behind her, the computer monitor glowed in the darkness
of her office space, set aside in one of the bedrooms of Karenfs apartment. She
had stared into that hard luminosity for two hours, seeking any information
about Crimson Flarefs whereabouts; she met only with failure. It was as if the
earth had swallowed up the heroine.
Her blonde hair
had been tied into a ponytail to keep it out of her face while she worked, but
the shorter strands had an hour ago been loosed from the binding and now hung
down over her blue-grey eyes. Lynn stared out through the windows of Karenfs
apartment, off to the southwest where flashes of lightning announced a coming
storm. The red dawn visible in the clear skies over Mitropoulos and to the east
would soon be swallowed up by the heavy thunderheads seen in the distance.
Where could she
have gone? Lynn kept asking herself. Crimson Flare had left the apartment only
a few hours ago to pay off the blackmailers who had found videos of the torture
and humiliation of the heroine. She was to go to Centre Park, to a copse of
trees, and deliver the payment. It was all a ruse, of course. Crimson Flare
would never submit to blackmail. But this was an opportunity to catch the
criminals red-handed.
There had been a
brief telephone conversation before she had entered the park. The place had
looked entirely deserted. But the Maiden of Mitropoulos had sounded optimistic
about this episode ending quickly with the capture of a couple of would-be
criminals who got in over their heads.
But since then,
there had only been silence.
Three hours.
eTo hell with
this!f Lynn said. She stood up and made her way toward the door. She had to get
to the park. If she could see where Crimson Flare had gone, maybe she could
find some evidence of what had happened to her friend.
*****
Lynnfs blue van
pulled into a parking space on Mitropoulosf famous Monroe Avenue. Across the
wide sidewalk stood the poured concrete barrier, shaped like a series of Ionic
columns that protected the edge of Centre Park. Beyond the barrier was the dark
green open expanse of the Meadows. And a quarter mile beyond that, barely
visible at this distance, was the stand of trees and shrubbery where the drop was
to have been made.
Lynn stepped
from the van. There was no one in sight. At this hour, even a city the size of
Mitropoulos was only awakening from its sleep.
Well, it was
mostly asleep. In the distance a police siren sounded.
She followed the
sidewalk to an entrance where a wide stairway dropped down into the esplanade.
A bike path and a walkway led toward the thicket probably more than a half-mile
distant, if one followed either path, a quarter-mile, if one walked directly
across the lawn. As she quickly walked the ground leading toward the trees, her
ankle boots crunched on the gravel of the hikerfs trail.
The small stones
crushed beneath her soles were much too loud in the still air. Distant thunder
rumbled announcing the coming storm. Lynn broke into a trot, hurrying her way
toward the trees, worrying, a little, about getting caught in the shower.
By the time she
got to the grove, the wind had kicked up, shaking the greenery noisily. The
lithe blonde moved to her left, looking for an entry into the coppice.
Eventually, having failed to find anything, she simply plunged into the blowing
stand of trees.
It was dark
there. Behind her she could still see the lights illuminating the street, far
distant, and the landscaped parkland. But here, beneath the canopy, it was much
darker, an eerie darkness that sent a chill up her spine, a chill amplified by
the cool breeze now whipping across the open space of Centre Park.
The cold front
just passed right across me, Lynn thought to herself. She plunged deeper into
the trees.
About twenty
yards from the edge of the park she saw a clearing in the midst of the grove.
Rushing into the open space, she noticed how utterly quiet the area was. That
is, until she stopped her frantic rush, and brought her panicked breathing
under control.
eMMMMmmmmmpppphhhh! MMMMMMmmmmmmmmmppppppphhhhhh!! MMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!f
Off to her
right, hidden by a single-standing spruce, someone was offering muffled cries.
Even in the dim light, Lynn quickly recognised the figure and uniform of
Officer Maria Blakeman.
The svelte
blonde college student quickly covered the distance to the evergreen and, in a
single motion, pulled, not exactly gently, the tape from the policewomanfs
mouth.
Maria tried to
expel a piece of cloth from between her jaws, but dry mouth prevented her. Now
acting delicately, Lynn turned the uniformed figure onto her side, and plucked
out the fabric, tossing it aside with disgust.
Maria breathed
in deeply while Lynn went to work on the ropes securing her wrists. eThank god
you finally came, Lynn,f she said finally, her voice raspy.
eWherefs Ka-, er,
Crimson Flare?f Lynn was in no mood for small talk.
eI donft know. I
was unconscious, drugged. When I came to, I was alone. The only thing I can
figure is that she was captured by the same men who grabbed me.f
eDid you hear
anything? Do you know where she is?f
eI didnft see
anything,f Maria said softly as Lynn freed her hands. eBut I do know that
Fareed Gouyannou is behind this.f
Lynnfs jaw
dropped. Gouyannou! She and Crimson Flare had thought this was the work of a
couple of cops trying to make a score. This made Crimson Flarefs disappearance
all the more dangerous. She had difficulty breathing for a moment. eAre— are
you sure itfs Gouyannou?f
eBefore I was
knocked out, I heard one of the men mention him. You usually donft drop his
name unlesscf
eYeah, I know.f
As Lynn freed
Mariafs hands, she stood straight up. Maria quickly began to undo the ropes
around her ankles. Meanwhile, Lynn stared into the distance, feeling more
helpless than she had ever felt in her life. Her vision clouded and tears ran
down her cheeks.
*****
Fareed Gouyannou
watched appreciatively as Dr. Callahan prepared the second injection. Crimson
Flare lay helpless on the floor, her wrists now freed from their bonds. As he
gazed at the powerless woman, he could feel himself salivating at the defeat of
Mitropoulosf Masked Maiden.
Her arms now lay
by her sides, their great strength no longer contained by the ropes. Crimson
Flarefs mind had no awareness of the fact that she now possessed the great
strength she needed to free herself from her captors. That mind had, in fact,
been seized by a single desire: the desire for sex. Unconsciously, her hips
rotated and pressed down upon an imaginary loverfs prick, which she felt had
penetrated deep inside her.
And yet, she
felt no satisfaction. The emptiness of the act confused the hapless girl. She
saw her lover, in her mindfs eye, emerge from shadows surrounding her,
glistening sweat covering his naked body, his powerful, taut muscles hovering
above and just beyond contact with her own aching, sensing body. Her eyelids
fluttered and she tried to peer into the darkness to see his concealed face, a
face she expected to embody her dreams and desires. She tried to raise her arms
to embrace that form, that hovering form, but the instant she did so, he seemed
to disappear from her view, only to return as she dropped her arms helplessly
to the floor.
Jan Leathers maneuvered his body to
untie the ropes at her ankles, a task made more difficult by the hard-on
brought on by his stimulation of the girl. But he removed the bonds with
surprising ease. He watched as her hips circled slowly, provocatively, the
sweet-smelling scent of her musk filling his nostrils. He felt a shudder pass
across her naked torso as he released her booted ankles and he sat up, prepared
for Gouyannoufs next command.
Dr. Callahan was
busily injecting the first dose of the heroin concoction into Crimson Flarefs
bared arm. As he removed the needle, he placed a small cotton swab over the
puncture. eNow, sir,f he said softly to Leathers, eyou must penetrate her.f
Callahan understood that the climax forced from the heroine would fix the
identification of sexual gratification with the warmth of the drug cocktail.
The desire created by the aphrodisiac was to be sated temporarily, only to be
reinvigorated by a new injection of the love potion, which would alternate with
the heroin mixture. Her strength would permit Crimson Flare to endure injection
after injection of both drugs without real danger of loss of life. Each set of
injections would be accompanied by a male suitor who would penetrate her and
bring her to climax.
Jan Leathers
looked from the kind doctorfs face toward his boss. Gouyannou gave him only the
smallest of nods.
Crimson Flarefs
breathing became shallower and more ragged as Leathers gently placed her body
fully on the polished wooden floor. Her masked face swung slowly from side to
side, as if she were trying to vainly clear her vision. She moaned softly. eOooooooohhhhhh,
god,f she barely whispered. eOOOoooohhhhh, god, p-plea-sse. Fffffuuck
me! P-p-plleeaassse, Ic I n-neeed ac a f-f-fuck!f The thug stood up and
dropped his pants as quickly as his fumbling fingers permitted.
The girl moaned
again weakly, the great strength in her body fighting the triple threat of
Leathersf earlier stimulation of her sexual appetite, the powerful aphrodisiac
still coursing through her veins, and the newly-introduced drug cocktail.
Behind her glistening black mask, her eyelids fluttered, and Leathers saw that
her eyes were completely unfocused. He did not know that she saw only the grey
cloud enveloping her dark lover, mysterious and powerful, as powerful as she.
In the brightly lit ballroom, though no one heard the Masked Maidenfs whispered
pleadings except him, all could see her helplessness.
Leathers took
hold of the famous uniform and pulled it unceremoniously from the heroine,
exposing her to the crowd. He could hear the smiles forming on the faces of the
men who watched, but it was the chorus of womenfs voices that was audible
across the ballroom. The heroinefs last defense had been removed and she now
lay naked to her enemies. Many of the ladies present turned away, fearful of
seeing what was to follow. He next grabbed the colourless tights and viciously
tore them away from her hips and nether regions, the tatters still visible on
her gloriously shaped legs. As Leathers, Gouyannou, Sealing, and all the others
gathered in the ballroom stared at her now-exposed sex, the large man clearly
saw the dampness formed on the short, dark hair at her entrance, and a dribble
of the syrupy honey ooze from her, rolling languorously down her smooth flesh
toward the floor.
Spreading her
legs a little wider, he placed his already engorged prick at the entrance to
the helpless Champion of Women. All across the ballroom, the ladies of the
evening who had been the guests of Gouyannoufs employees audibly choked back
gasps and cries as they watched the first rape of Crimson Flare.
Ominously,
distant thunder rolled into the room.
*****
Maria and Lynn
walked quickly back toward Lynnfs van, raindrops beginning to fall heavily on
the sidewalk. Although Maria ran to get out of the storm, Lynn walked dazedly
toward the vehicle.
The two had
covered the quarter mile from the stand of trees quickly, avoiding the parkfs
pathways, but neither had spoken. Maria, however, had seemed concerned about
getting shelter from the storm, while Lynn seemed utterly uninterested in anything
around her. Her mind raced, filled with innumerable questions, but all stemming
from the same point: Crimson Flare was the prisoner of Fareed Gouyannou.
She climbed into
the driverfs seat and sat staring out the windscreen. Lynn seemed to be barely
breathing, when, all of a sudden, she collapsed, in tears, onto the steering
wheel.
eJesus
Christ,f she wailed.
eJesus Christ,f she shouted again, ewhat the hell am I supposed to do
now?f Tears poured down her face.
*****
Her small
breasts were as hard as marble, the nipples perfectly erect. Her back was
arched almost to a ninety-degree angle as her hips slid up and down on
Leathersf erection. The perfect thighs clung to his hips as he knelt on the
floor, while the black-booted calves pressed brightly polished black leather
hard against his backside. The thugfs powerful arms supported her sweating,
naked back above the wooden floor at a point just above her naked, perfectly
formed ass. The vaulting curve of her back placed her cowled head mere inches from
the polished wood on which the couple were locked in this embrace. Behind the
glistening black mask, her eyes were closed, her face covered with beads of
sweat. Her mouth was open, though she was now silent, the pleasure of the
penetration sending waves of ecstasy to the very core of her being. Her gloved
hands held tightly to those strong arms, and her hips stroked him strongly, up
and down, up and down, desperately seeking fulfillment. Each time she plunged,
the tip of his penis penetrated deeper into her, creating sensations of delight
all through the lovely masked maid. Rivulets of sweat rolled down her chest
onto those perfectly shaped mounds, from there curving toward her sides where
her ribs were clearly visible pressing against her flawless flesh.
The only sound
in the room was the agitated breathing of the two who were coupled in this
dance. Even the pending storm seemed awed into silence. The crowd of onlookers,
including Fareed Gouyannou and Officer Bruce Sealing, stared, transfixed,
almost unbelieving. For the principals themselves, it was as if they were only
now discovering the heights of bliss that could be scaled in the act of sex.
For Jan leathers, his prick felt as if it would not gush forth with his seed,
but rather was on the verge of rupturing, the pain-pleasure carried all the way
from its tip to his spine.
For Crimson
Flare, who happily pushed herself down onto that hardened organ, she only
sought to drive him deeper, deeper into her to satisfy the desire that now
enveloped her whole being. In her mindfs eye she continued to seek out the dark
and handsome man of mystery who had conquered her. She could not yet see him,
but she did feel him inside her, reaching up from her entrance into her womb.
eMMMMmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnn!!
Guh!! Oohh! OOOhhh!! OOOoooHHHhhh!!!f Her rapture became audible.
His voice joined
hers in a fugue of desire, frenzy, and bliss. eNNNNNnnnnnngggggggggg!! Uuhhhlll!
Ah! AAAhhhkkk!! AAAaaaHHHhhhKKKkkk!!!f
The Champion of
Women felt the hard muscles of his body. She looked deeply into her mind to see
the face of this conqueror, and each time she sought the details of this
powerful lover, clouds snatched away his countenance, leaving only an
intimation, a hint of the nature of this desired mate.
eUUUUgggggghhhhhhhhaaaaaggghhhhhh!!f she screamed, raising her body upright.
Then she wrapped her powerful arms around his chest, pushing herself against
him, so that the sweat on their bodies mingled. The sweet smell of love that
rose to her nostrils only served to further stimulate her.
Leathers licked
the sweat from her neck, then nibbled on the spot where he had done so. A
droplet of perspiration rolled from the back of her head down against his lip;
it was blocked there, but then he gaped open his mouth to receive the globule.
His tongue traced its path upward toward the tight-fitting cowl that helped to
protect the identity of Mitropoulosf Avenger. His progress blocked now by the
shining leather, he reached one hand up to the hood, easily pulling it from the
heroinefs head. Underneath, her short, dark brown hair was askew and soaked
with sweat, which now rolled freely down the sides of her face and across her
glistening mask. Meanwhile, the manfs tongue searched for her ear and, finding
it, penetrated deep into its interior; at the same time, he nibbled at the
lobe, his stubble brushing seductively against the soft skin of her neck.
As he did this,
she pressed herself even more tightly against his manhood, seeking to drive him
further into her body. When this failed, a moan of such forlorn sensuality
passed through her lips that all who heard it were freshly stimulated. Leathers
slid his hands up her sweat-soaked back. Then, bending his elbows beneath and
behind her shoulders, he brought his hands forward from behind her, allowing
them to wrap themselves across her face. The little and ring fingers of both
hands lay on top of the brilliantly shining black mask.
eDo not remove
her mask,f Fareed Gouyannou cautioned.
Jan Leathers was
not about to do any such thing. The secrecy of his victimfs identity was too
great a prize—and too significant as a turn-on right now—to wish to lose it.
The softness of her flesh under his ministrations, the delicacy of her own
gently moving hands across his back, the mystery offered by the mask concealing
her features, the sense of her vulnerability conveyed by the costume and
delicacy of this diminutive heroine, and the sensation of the leather boots
against the small of his back, even the latent power he felt coursing through
her arms as they pressed against his back: all these things contributed to
Leathersf enormous and raging erection, the greatest sensation of pleasure-pain
he had ever experienced. His wildly pounding heart, the sweat pouring down his
face and torso, his effort to penetrate as far into this remarkable Champion of
Women as he was able: this was the evidence of the completeness of his sexual
and sensual arousal. Never had he felt so enraptured as at this moment.
Bruce Sealing
watched in amazement, as the pairing seemed to become one creature. The slow
rolling of the single body that was the two conjoined lovers, the symbiotic
rising and falling, the twisting and turning of this entity that had been
created from these individuals served to draw his awec and his anger. He had
given Gouyannou the secret to capturing Crimson Flare to see her destroyed, to
have her become what the police always knew she was: a slut working against law
and order. Yet, here she was, giving voice to ecstasies he had never
experienced, or even was aware of. His purpose had been to torture the cunt.
Notc this!
eMr. Gouyannou,
sir,f he said quietly, approaching the short, dark man from the crowd.
eYes, my boy,f
the drug kingpin said cheerfully. eWhat is it?f The two stepped away from the
centre of the room. To most observers, they appeared to be discussing a most
secret affair.
eWell, uh, sir,
you see, uh,f he stammered.
Gouyannou wasnft
angry when he urged Sealing to speak his mind. eCome, come, what is it? You
know you have my good will.f
eOh, yes, sir, I
certainly am aware of that. But arenft you going to destroy her, like you said
you would? I mean, we agreed that both the police and your organisation wanted
her out of the way. I donft see howc.f
Fareed Gouyannou
laughed. eSurely, you understand that the ultimate goal hasnft changed, donft
you?f He continued chuckling. eThe destruction of Crimson Flare will happen in
any event. We each have our own idea about how we should attain our goal. You,
Mr. Policeman, would prefer the direct route.f He smiled at his newest
employee.
eThat is good,
and the way you understand the world. For a policeman, things are always black
and white, no pun intended.f The words flowed freely in his accented English.
eBut for me, and in our organisation—f Sealing was pleased with the use of
eourf—eevery opportunity such as this must serve as a lesson to others. gMen
are ruled by the appearance of things,h Louis XIV said. Here—f he indicated the
defeated heroine, ewe have our greatest enemy. It will not be enough to defeat
her, for a mere defeat would not linger in the imagination. She must be
disgraced, humiliated.f He smiled. eHumbled.f
The policeman
turned to look at the Masked Maiden of Mitropoulos. She was now laying on her
back. Her uniform was gone, lying several feet from her. Her colourless tights
had been torn from her, the tatters of that violent act visible just above her
boots. Jan Leathers had just spent himself and was withdrawing from her. The
utter exhaustion on his face spoke volumes about his experience. He was still
on his knees, but most of his weight was now on his arms, which straddled his
victim. Those who saw the scene from the proper angle saw his surplus seed
dripping from the girl, rolling slowly toward the floor.
Gouyannou nodded
toward Dr. Callahan. Immediately, the healing hands dipped into his medical bag
and he prepared his next series of injections for the heroine. In a moment, the
first of the two needles had pierced her, and the aphrodisiacfs power over the
helpless heroine was redoubled. The second injection, finding the same
vulnerable spot in a vein, quickly followed.
eWould you like
to experience Americafs Darling?f Gouyannou asked Sealing.
In a matter of
moments, a naked Bruce Sealing had impaled the hapless avenger.
*****
Crimson Flare could
feel nothing. Or perhaps, more accurately, her sensibilities were overwhelmed
by a single sensation. It might be called edesiref, but that word would imply a
singularity of focus. In fact, Gouyannou and Callahanfs plot did not allow the
hapless girl to isolate such an exclusive yearning. Their purpose required that
her mind would be unmoored from any semblance of stability, and forced to
confront separately waves of stimuli. Each would seize control of her, only to
be overwhelmed by a new sensation as soon as it did so.
It could be
termed elongingf, for Crimson Flare had had experience with this sensation in
the past. The days in the abandoned subway station, in the power of the Normans
and of Cos. Now reawakened in her sensual memory, these feelings rushed to
overwhelm her: the warmth and comfort of a drug-induced haze, blocking out the
harsh reality of the world; the strong embrace of a man, protecting her from
those who would do her harm; the frenzy of sexual passion, which flooded her
being with but one demand, a demand that she be penetrated and satisfied.
However, the
Maid of Mitropoulos could not be satisfied. The superhuman lust she felt could
not be quenched by mere men, however driven those men might be to surfeit their
victim. With each renewal of Dr. Callahanfs bill of fare, the heroinefs demands
would escalate, and the capacities of a mere mortal would fall further and
further short of her requirements. Each penetration, however large the manhood
of her attacker, would be insufficient. Regardless of the rapistfs ability to
sustain his erection, Crimson Flare, whose orgasms were both manifold and
extravagant, felt empty and unfulfilled. Only the dark, mysterious stranger of
her imagination would be able to meet her expectations. Why, she wanted to
know, did he not oblige her?
She felt his
arms on her. Powerful muscles stretched tight beneath his rough skin. His
unshaven face rubbed against her own silken neck, his stubble adding a staccato
to the swelling harmony of their embrace. He knew all the ways to seduce a
woman: his hands showed a familiarity with her anatomy, innately knowing the
places where her response would be heightened because of her heightened
sensitivity. Sometimes tender, sometimes agitated, he moved knowledgably from
one hypersensitive locus to the next, the progress raising the increasingly
helpless Champion of Women to a higher and higher plane of exaltation. Why
would he hold her but refuse to satisfy her cravings?
Those cravings
were heightened by the drug-induced image of the hero who embraced her, the
hero who had rendered her powerless. Through their influence, she saw more
details of this man, though his face continued to elude her. She saw the
muscular arms and the powerful chest, powerful enough to challenge even Crimson
Flarefs strength. As his massive limbs pulled her body to him, she felt her own
strength slip away, and she felt a weakness wash over her body. She lifted her
legs to encircle his hips and she pushed herself toward his massive prick,
which she could clearly see through the haze that encompassed the lovers. But
he denied her. The sensation of the penetration did not match her expectation. It
was not his! And the masked Maiden, the emptiness of the experience seizing
her, groaned. She groaned her dismay again and again, and still she sought the
hero.
Crimson Flare
was able to find him, for he did not hide from her. She saw his form moving
through the fog, and she heard him. Through the smoky whirl surrounding them
she heard his laughter, like a hundred voices laughing at once. eComec
backcf she whispered huskily. He only laughed louder.
The avenger
reached out and felt him. His powerful legs were directly in front of her. She
could see them, the rippling muscles of his thighs and calves naked before her.
Her gloved hands brushed gently against the sturdy, upright limbs. Even with so
light a touch, she could feel the latent power in him. She pulled herself
toward him and pressed her face against the sweaty flesh of his legs. As she
did so, she felt the familiar warmth rush over her again, the warmth that
seemed to be coursing through her body, but which was obviously radiating from
him. She felt it every time she came near him. The masked Maiden licked the
perspiration rolling down the thighs and pressed herself closer to him. If only
he would impale her on his mammoth cock. Then, she was sure, she would achieve
the satisfaction she so desperately desired. Her hands reached up between his
legs, tenderly searching for his balls, rubbing the backs of both hands against
the underside of his scrotum. There, before her eyes, she saw his manhood
emerge, as large as she had imagined it to be. Rigid, elevated, it stood there,
inviting her. Americafs Darling reached up with her tongue and licked his
member, beginning at the root and running the entire length of the shaft,
inviting him to enter her. As she did so, she gazed upward, almost desperately
now trying to discern some part of his features, a countenance she imagined to
be of godlike beauty and perfection.
*****
Nick Napolitano,
one of Gouyannoufs eheavy liftersf, could not believe what Crimson Flare was
doing to him. All his life, he had been laughed at for his squat, hunchbacked
posture, and yet, now, here was Crimson Flare, the object of so many of his
fantasies, licking at his mean little prick. The laughter that had so often
been directed at him, in part because of his looks, in part because of his
intellect—or lack of it—rolled across the ballroom, but this time it was not
directed at him. It was the Maid of Mitropoulos who was the object of the
uproar. The play of her gloved hands against his package sent chills running
uncontrollably up and down his spine. He raised up on his toes and arched his
back in an effort to contain his exhilaration.
eLovec me...f he
heard her whisper. Her voice was of such a sensual sweetness, such as he had
not heard in many years—a woman speaking to him as a lover, not as a whore—that
once again he felt a tingle rush through him, beginning at his crotch and
spreading outward with a speed he had never experienced.
Oh, god, she
was licking his cock! Oh, god!!
Nick had never experienced anything so sensual! The smooth lapping of his
manhood by this woman, this heroine, naked before him, was more than he could
take.
He ejaculated into
her face.
*****
Crimson Flare,
naked except for her mask, gloves, boots, and holster, still containing her
baton, had knelt abjectly before one male after another. And one after another,
all five that Gouyannou had summoned had penetrated her, each time using the
most available orifice. Her perfectly shaped ass was encrusted with cum, and
the excess that still rolled from inside her passed across a crusty orgasmic
mixture, formed of her own making, as well as that of her partners, now flaking
from the insides of her flawless thighs.
Napolitano, the
sixth in the line, had been intended as comedy relief. The others had been
high-ranking figures in the criminal world, but when the kingpin had summoned a
mere thug, it demonstrated that soon Crimson Flare would be open to all comers.
Each had been preceded by Dr. Callahanfs potions. Each supplement had increased
the haze surrounding the helpless girl. As each of the crime worldfs leaders
had penetrated the now-defeated crimefighter, cunt and ass, the audience was
less in awe and more given to the revelry that Gouyannou sought. He wanted to
shatter the myth of Crimson Flare, to destroy her mystique in the minds of his
underlings, so that she would never again represent anything more to them than
she did on this night.
That was why
Napolitano was to be the climax, so to speak. Mitropoulosf drug lord smiled as
he thought of it. Crimson Flare, Americafs Darling, the Champion of Women,
Defender of Mitropoulos, reduced to providing enjoyment to the least of Gouyannoufs
men. Napolitano had never been with a woman he hadnft paid for. The sight of
his clumsy efforts, peaking in his penetration, would be the end of her.
But this was
even better than he had anticipated. To have the powerful heroine submissively
on her knees before Napolitano, stripped of her uniform and her glory,
desperately trying to get her luscious red lips around his prickc licking the
entire five inches and seeking to embrace himc. This would be a night for all
to remember.
The menfs
raucous laughter rang out everywhere in the ballroom. It even overwhelmed the
rising storm outside, which rattled the French doors with its fury. The women
had been silenced, their prayers unanswered. The men, previously dumbfounded by
the awe that surrounded the heroine, now voiced their disdain for Crimson
Flare: Crimson Flare had become their bitch.
When Nick
Napolitano suddenly came, streams of fluid spurting into the face and onto the
shoulders and chest of the defeated Champion, the ballroom sounded more like a sports
stadium than a gangland conventicle.
Gouyannou
couldnft have been more pleased.
*****
Crimson Flarefs
mind begged for satisfaction. As she gripped the mammoth prick in her hands,
licking the tip, her mind told her to stand in order to impale herself on the
monstrous entity. But the warmth she felt radiating from the body of her hero
wouldnft allow her to separate herself from him. She needed to press her face
and body against the warm hard limbs. It was somehow comforting. All that she
wanted was to have that glow continue to permeate her being. The flame of his
presence heated her and made her feel secure in this fog that surrounded her.
His laughter reassured her that all was safe. Besides, as she gripped his
manhood, she felt the surging in him. She wasnft about to release that. But the
frustration of her own desire still nagged at her.
Oh, god, he
was cumming. I must save
it, she thought. This is meant to be mine, itfs meant for only me! It
must be preserved!
She pressed her
body against his legs, in order not to lose the contact that was so important
to her safety, and, with her satin-gloved hands, she pushed her loverfs seed
into her. She opened her mouth and swabbed her face, enjoying the taste of his
manhood. Then, seating herself and leaning back, she pushed and scooped the
deposits on her chest toward her anxiously-awaiting sex.
End of Chapter
Three
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contact the author at marat1793@comcast.net