It was rough sleeping with every breath causing me pain. I managed to get enough sleep, a half hour at a time, by 10AM the next day. From there I went on auto pilot for the best part of a week. I didn’t follow up with Mission, because I didn’t want a job at that moment in time. By the sixth day I was beginning to fell less pain. Every time I swallowed I could still feel it, but it was only a minor discomfort. I should have been really pissed, but each time I swallowed there was a reminder of the whole experience. I stopped fighting it and decided to go with it. It hadn’t all been bad. After six days, even the memories of the bad didn’t seem so bad.
I’m not sure how many baths I took during those six days, but I am sure it was less than one a day. The only reason I mention that is when Mission finally got around to returning my call it, set things in motion to right myself.
Mission said, “I know it seems as though I have been ducking your calls. I feel awful but that shit at the safe house wasn’t my call. Anyway, I have called around and found someone who is looking for someone just like you. I can’t tell you about them, because I don’t know a lot. We ran across his group in an investigation down east, One which got shut down quickly. So they have some serious juice,” She said all that without letting me get a word into the conversation.
“Damn, I’m just fine how are you,” I said making an issue of her terse manner.
“I’m sorry, they have me on edge around here. I’m not supposed to contact you. I shouldn’t be calling around looking for a job for you, that’s for sure. So anyway the guy is going to come talk to you sometime today. Make a good impression, these guys are a big deal in some circles, I have been told.”
“Why all the mystery?” I asked.
“I don’t think the company exists to tell you the truth. I mean I have never been shut down so fast. I figure the two of you might be a perfect fit. I mean the state attorney general wishes you didn’t exist as well. Why I’m not quite sure. So make a good impression,”
“I guess in that case, I need to take a bath,” I said.
“Yes you do for sure,” Message said then hung up without saying goodbye.
I not only took a both and washed my short thin hair, I also ran a broom and then a damp towel over the hardwood floors. The apartment look nice by the time the big assed SUV pulled into the drive after lunch. Since I still wasn’t up to eating my lunch was a slice of bread and a large glass of chocolate milk. That lunch was a non memorable event in my day. Only the SUV made it special. Two men got out of the SUV, they both walked as though they had broom handle up their asses. The driver looked around at the houses surrounding him, before the second man left the cover of the SUV to walk to the stairway which lead to my balcony. They had been in the drive a total of about five minutes before the knock on my door came.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello, I Colonel Martin.” he said with the coldest smile I have ever seen. It was like staring into the face of a snake.
“I’m Sylvia Porter, Colonel Martin,” I said not offering him my hand. “Would you like to come inside.”
“Of course, I would hate doing business outside even though the weather has definitely take a turn for the better,” he said. He took a seat on my DYI small sofa/bed.
“Yes it has,” I said even though I hadn’t really noticed. I had been inside the house most of the last six days. I guess I was licking my wounds. “So in what are you a colonel?” I asked.
“It’s just what they call me at the office. I’m retired. Actually British SAS, Just so you dont need to ask.” he said.
“I figured it was something British, The accent gives you away.,” I said.
“So I’m told,” he replied.
“So what kind of office are we talking here?” I asked.
“I run a branch of a private security company call Swamp Dog,” he informed me.
“Holy shit, I have a mercenary in my living room,” I said with a laugh.
“Well the branch I am in charge of doesn’t do black ops type things. We are strictly body guards, a little more expensive than the usual body guards, but we are a bit better at it,” He said.
“I don’t think I have the qualifications you are looking for,” I said,
“Oh you meet our needs quite well, or I wouldn’t be here. I don’t often waste my time. We have done some checking. You are one of those people who take your job seriously and do whatever is necessary do it well.”
“Yeah, but I’m not a commando ninja assassin,” I said. “And I have a hand that isn’t healed yet.”
“Well let me tell you what the job is, and then decide if you can do it.” I nodded my agreement. “We have a client, who is a rock concert promoter. He has a huge rap music star headed out on tour this summer. He has a certain liability for his safety. Since he is liable, he has purchased insurance. He gets a much better rate, if he has a body guard travel with the performers. You see Sylvia, it just business. You can pass the insurance company qualification easily.”
“So you don’t give a crap whether I have any experience as a bodyguard or not. You just want someone, who can fill the client’s needs on paper?” I asked
“Well it won’t do our reputation any good, if we lose a client, but we aren’t expecting any serious attacks on him. We see it more as a law enforcement type thing, than a commando type thing, as you put it,” The colonel answered.
“Look for the single man with a gun, rather than a frontal assault,” I said in agreement.
“Exactly,” the Colonel replied. “So you in?”
“If you provide me with the right equipment and this so called rock singer cooperates,” I replied.
“You didn’t even ask what the job pays,” he replied,
“Okay, whats the pay,” I asked.
“Well the tour is three months and there will be two of you so we are thinking five thousand.” he said.
“A week?” I asked.
“A month, but it isn’t a forty hour a week gig,” he said. “One of you will have to be with him at all times, At least when he is doing anything for the promoter. If he goes for a press conference, you will have to be there. If he goes to the theater to check equipment, you will have to be there.” He said. “But not when he goes to the bathroom at home.”
“So the promoter will have a representative along to inform us when we are needed?” I asked.
“Yeah, you are responsible only if you are called in, but let me warn you, they will be keeping you hopping I assure you. There are lots of promoter sponsored events on a rock tour. Lots of press parties all that sort of thing.”
“When do we have to start?” I asked.
“Not tomorrow, but the next Thursday. You will show up at the first venue, and pick him up when he arrives at the airport.”
“So, who is this rap star?” I asked.
“Coca cola or some such stupid name,” he said. “He sings that chuga chuga kill whitey shit.” It sounded strange in his British accent. I rather liked it. “So are you on board with it?”
“Sure, what do I need to do. Other than show up with my bad assed attitude?” I asked.
“My associate outside will drop off your equipment. Here is the number of the office. If you kill anyone, or anyone kills the subject you are protecting, call us otherwise handle it yourself.” he said. At the door he stopped and handed me a thick brown envelop. “First months pay. Just in case you need anything. I will have the office call you with the names of the hotels and that sort of thing.” He left me with the impression that he didn’t know or care about the details of the operation.
When he got to the SUV he had a quick conversation with the driver who went to the read for a black canvas bag, which he delivered to my door. The bag was very much like the bag in which I carried my clothes for the road trip. It was some smaller though.
Inside the bag I found a Glock 10mm and a holster that went inside my pants. I also found the license and registration for it. Whether it was real, or not I didn’t even want to know. I found a box containing a brand new stun gun with a note on top. Use this till your hand heals. Those things were good for one use, then I would need to recharge it. I figured that it should be enough, if there was more than one bad guy, I probably needed to shoot a couple of them first. There was one more item in the bag that convinced me they really did their homework. There was a plastic handle with a craft style snap blade inside it. I had its twin brother in my pocket. I had been there even as I spoke to Colonel Martin. If he had proved to be an assassin, I might not have been able to stop him, but I might mark him for the cops.
After he left I decided that it was time I stopped feeling sorry for myself and start acting like the tough bitch he thought I was. I had time to go shopping, so I did just that. I went to the department store at the plaza. It didn’t have the biggest selection or the best prices but I thought it would have enough. I couldn’t find the biker whore section of the department store, so I went to Mary Ellen’s store. She had what I wanted, but even she had it behind the counter. I bought a top with about four inches of coverage and spaghetti straps to hold it up, and a very short skirt. Hey if I was going to be a biker whore, I ought to at least look the part. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen one up close.
I had to explain to Mary Ellen what happened the last time I was out. She said, “My God, you should have called, so I could get that on film.”
“Mary Ellen I am sure you would have been in the pit with me not filming it,” I said.
“If these guys are as violent as you say, I’m glad I wasn’t there, unless it was with a camera crew.
“Honey your camera crew might have been in the pit with you. These guys play rough.” I said.
“Then why are you going back?” She asked.
“You know I’m crazy, that’s why your customers love me,” I said.
“So you are really going back to the club,” Mary Ellen asked.
“Sometime between now and next week this time yes I am,” I replied.
“Would you let me put a bug on you. The camera crew has some new technology they are dying to try out,” she said.
“If they catch me with a camera, it will be me that will be dying for trying it out,” I said.
You know you love the danger. You are a adrenaline junkie,” she said. “You get off on the fear,”
“That’s crazy,” I said. I didn’t believe what I said any more than Mary Ellen did. I could see her mind trying to find a way to cash in on my quirk.
I left Mary Ellen’s shop with a bag full of half clothes that were over priced. Mary Ellen’s brain was still spinning with possible schemes, I was sure.
When I arrived home, I swapped the Toyota for the trike. I was a glorious day once I left the house I felt much better, so I went on a joy ride. I rode down the main street and around the square. I left town on the road to Dobson with no real plan in mind. I had purchased the trike with 15 to 20 mile trips in mind. I certainly never thought I would be job riding it around County Seat. I barely heard the siren behind me so absorbed was in the sights around me. I immediately pulled over, when I realized it was for me.
I watched as Butch came to the trike. “I heard you were back in town. What’s with the bandage.”
“I was standing beside a tree someone decided to shoot. Got some splinters in my hand. Why did you stop me, just to talk?” I asked.
“Not really, you know you are supposed to be wearing a DOT approved helmet on the road.” He saw me look at him with a ‘are you kidding me’ look. “You know it’s the law.” he said.
“So Simpson told you guys to look out for me in particular. You know if you write that ticket I going to hire a lawyer and fight it. Then it’s going to be you on the stand, when she asks if you were told to look for me by name. Then to write a ticked for this petty bullshit. Butch we used to be friends, you know I’ll crucify you for this. It won’t be Simpson on the stand it’s gonna be you.”
“Okay, I didn’t see you, but consider this a warning get yourself a helmet. You can find something cool. Ask your friend Monk.”
“Alright Butch and thanks for not making me hire a lawyer for this,” I said. I wasn’t going to hire a lawyer. I was going to have Mission talk to the judge, or someone from the State’s Attorney’s office. I decided to go ahead and get some kind of helmet. I was not going to wear a heavy motorcycle helmet though.
I returned home and searched the Internet for something that would pass for a motorcycle helmet. The search let me to several bike helmets which at a distance would look like a motorcycle helmet, but were much lighter. So I got in the Toyota and drove through the twilight to Dobson, and the bike shop. I was able to find the helmet I wanted. It was way over priced at forty bucks and tax. The other problem was the bike helmet, though it had the right shape, also had air holes to make it even more comfortable. To disguise those the helmet needed a custom paint job.
I hadn’t seen Monk, since my return. I am sure he thought I fell off the face of the earth. Well if he had thought that, I have no idea what he thought when I showed up at his shop. “Hello Monk,” I said.
“Well fuck me, Silvia Porter how the hell are you?” he asked.
“I’m good. I”m back living in County Seat, but I’m not a cop any more.” I held up my hand. “Permanent disability.”
“I’m sorry I know you loved that job,” he said. He was quiet and second waiting for me to speak.
“Monk, I need your help. I have a bike helmet I need custom panted so it looks like a motorcycle helmet.” I went on to explain it all.
“You got a good shape for it. Motorcycle helmets are round and bike helmets are generally teardrop shaped. You got a nice round bike helmet this should be pretty easy to disguise. Just plug these three vent holes and paint it. I have a guy who does my motorcycle painting that will do it for twenty bucks.” Monk said.
“How can you quote his price,” I asked.
“Because I outweigh him by twenty pounds, and twenty bucks is a fair price,” Monk said.
“Thanks Monk,” I said.
“We should get together again,” He said.
“I’m just getting over my visit to the iron horse in Dobson,” I said with a weak smile.
“I don’t go there it is a club house and I’m unaffiliated. We would not be a good mix. If you are going there, you should be very careful,” he added.
“I am very careful,” I didn’t tell him what had happened.
I didn’t get home before dark. When I did get home, I found a note on my door from the blue haired lady. It read, Dear Miss Porter, there has been a car parking on the street outside all day. If it is a friend of yours please ask them to stop. If it isn’t, I am going to call the Sheriff.
I went by her house. “Hi there.” I said when she answered the door. “Ma’am there is no one I know, who would be staking out my place, so call the Sheriff.”
“Then I will if it happens again,” she said.
I went home and tried on my biker’s whore outfit. I didn’t look hot like the girls with real boobs, but it was skimpy enough that I looked taller and even thinner. I had a few scars that showed, so I looked like a tough broad. I took one last look in the mirror before I decided to go to bed early. I didn’t worry about the car parked outside the old lady’s house, but I kept the .38 a little closer that night.
I spent two more days in limbo. I didn’t make any move as I waited for my throat and my hand to continue healing. The throat healed first of course. I was half way through my week off before I felt like even going out to eat. I rushed it by a day or so because I was just bored as hell and sick of frozen dinners. I wanted to go out somewhere nice for dinner. Somewhere the biker whore outfit would get me kicked out. If I could even get in that is. I dressed in my usual butch outfit and went to a family style restaurant in the Plaza for dinner .
After dinner alone, I swing by Monk’s shop and got my helmet. The plain black helmet had been transformed The holes had been covered and painted over. It looked solid and the dragons head was beautiful. I gladly paid Monk the twenty. “You know if you were friendly you could save twenty bucks,” He said.
“That wouldn’t surprised me at all, but I’m really not feeling it honey,” I said. “My hand is giving me hell tonight.” I’m sure he recognized it for the lie it was.
I went to the apartment and changed into the short skirt and top. I went out into the chilly night air with the parka covering the top and nothing covering my bare legs. I had to turn the car heater on even though the night was fairly warm for the mountains. I’m sure you guessed I went back to the Iron Horse. I walked in and right up to the bar without looking around. The parka had been left in the car, so I felt naked. Hell in my mind I almost was.
“Well the Girlie is back. So Girlie, you looking for more of the same?” the voice behind me asked.
“Not really Eddie, it was a little more than I bargained for last time. I just came by for a drink,” I said.
“At least you dressed properly this time. No more of that though bitch stuff?” he asked.
“No more,” I said quietly.
“Good, then come just us,” he said as he turned away and walked to a very small table by the overhead door in the garage part of the building. Those doors had been nailed shut and the tracks removed. I found an empty seat and began drinking the beer. I drank very slowly though. Unlike the others I wouldn’t be able to hide from the deputies, who were on the look out for me.
“So Girlie, what do you plan to do tonight?” Eddie asked.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I replied honestly.
“So you are just an opportunist. Ready to take advantage of us poor motorcycle thugs?” he asked.
“I thought, I was the one who got taken advantage of,” I replied.
“So far that has been the case,” he replied. “So, if you are a good girl, then we will get along fine. If you resist, then we might have a problem.”
“It was my understanding that after that last little test, there would be no more,” I said.
“Girlie. everyday is a test. You should know that,” he said. “Now get on your knees.”
I had more or less decided to go along with anything by coming into the club unarmed. So I slipped to my knees in front of him. He was seated of course, so working his cock out wasn’t especially easy, but I did manage it. “Now kiss it,” he said.
I leaned forward and kissed his penis. I couldn’t believe that it turned me on, but my breathing was labored and I could feel my heart pumping. I couldn’t resist sucking his penis into my mouth and nursing on it as I imagined a child nursed on his mother’s breast, I felt his hand under my almost non existent top as he massaged and tweaked the nipples of my small but sensitive breasts. I could feel the lubricant begin to ooze out of me.
I was deep into the sense of depravity, when I felt hands lifting my hips. I felt the head of a penis prodding me as it tried to find it’s way inside my vagina. Whoever it was, his struggle was rewarded as I felt the penis spread me open. I could feel it working its way inside me. The sensation in my mouth struggled with the sensation in my vagina. One was purely physical lust and one was more a depravity of the mind. Then again I couldn’t distinguish between them as I was climbing quickly toward orgasm.
“God she has good pussy, Eddie you have to try her cunt,” the voice behind me said.
“Oh I intend to try all of her. I plan to turn the whore inside out,” Eddie said as he worked toward his own orgasm.
The one inside me came first. I could not feel him ejaculate, but I felt him stiffen and stop pumping then pull away.
Eddie was a different story. I had finally found out how to suck his cock. He was saying, “Yes that’s right cunt,” so I knew that I had it right. I h ad discovered that I didn’t have much of a gag reflex left after the initiation. I could work Eddie’s cock into my throat the inch or so that it took for me to feel his pubic hair tickle my nose. He not so thick that I could not swallow against his cock once I had it in my throat. Then I would ease it out and take a breath. After a second or two to relax I would swallow his cock again. When Eddie came the sound he made was almost a scream of relief. I managed to get his cock into my throat when he came, so it went almost directly down my throat without filling my mouth. I did swallow many times but it was more to milk his cock than to clear my mouth of semen.
I was allowed to leave the club without any more depravity. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that, but I drove home in any case. Far from being injured as I had been the last time, I felt exhilarated and couldn’t get to sleep for hours. I was trying to hold on to those feeling.