6 comments/ 41111 views/ 13 favorites Interrocution By: manyeyedhydra "So which Bond girl would you most like to fuck?" Aaron Dwyer asked. "Now that, my friend, is one of the great imponderables," Brian Wolfe replied. Dwyer was the taller of the two men, but he still possessed some of the puppy fat of youth. In contrast Wolfe looked like he had been hewn from teak and draped in toughened leather. "I can't really say that I'd turn any of them down given the choice," Wolfe said. "Okay, maybe not the midget with the knives in her shoes." "That was Austin Powers not James Bond," Dwyer laughed. "No no no," Wolfe said. "Rosa Klebb in 'From Russia with Love'. One of the really old ones." The two men dragged an unconscious man along a plain corridor and into a small room, empty apart from a single wooden chair bolted to the dusty concrete floor. They propped the man up in the chair. "The crazy one in Goldeneye," Dwyer said. "The one that crushed people to death with her thighs." "Ah, Famke Janssen. Yeah, she was hot. A bit flighty for me though." "I like a woman that can take care of herself if you know what I mean," Dwyer said. Using rope they bound the man's hands together behind the chair. Above them a naked light bulb, flecked with dirt and the crisp remains of incinerated flies, illuminated their work. They tied the man's ankles to the chair legs and then stepped back. "So who is this joker?" Dwyer asked. Approximately fifteen minutes ago, over on Burlingame and Rochester Avenue, they'd coshed him on the back of his head and then bundled his unconscious form into the back of their Chrysler. "Best not to ask," Wolfe said. "Yeah of course," Dwyer said. "That's Mr Koontz's business." The two men waited in the small room. The unconscious man remained unconscious, his head slumped forward as he sat bound to the chair. "What do you think of Mr Koontz?" Wolfe asked. Dwyer thought carefully about how he should reply. "On the level?" he asked. "On the level," Wolfe replied. "I know he controls all of the west side..." "But he ain't what you expected," Wolfe finished for him. "You see a fat guy in silk pj's that looks like the bastard offspring of Hugh Hefner and Ozzy Osbourne and you wonder, how the fuck did he get where he is? We've all been there." "You hear some of the talk," Dwyer said. "They say he's soft, or mad. They say he lives in a mansion surrounded by his 'ho's and doesn't give a shit anymore. It's hard to know what to think sometimes. I mean take this. I'm the new guy and you got me in on the wetwork already. Either I should be honoured at Mr Koontz's trust in me or freaking scared shitless at the lack of professionalism." Wolfe laughed. It was a mirthless sound. "Mr Koontz gives all the new guys an assignment like this. You'll understand." ***** Ow, what the fuck, James Jackson thought. His head felt like it had been used as the ball in a volleyball match. He opened his eyes and stared blurrily at a plain concrete floor. Someone needs the services of an interior decorator, he thought. Urgently. He was sitting in a chair. He tried to stand up and then realised he couldn't. His hands were bound behind the chair and his feet were bound to the legs. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. At least it saved him the embarrassment of vomiting the very expensive Sushi he'd had for lunch over his very expensive Hamilton shirt. His stomach churned like a washing machine full of crack whore's panties. Any sudden movement and he'd be adding his own bit of colour to the dusty grey floor. He raised his head. Slowly. Uh. His skull felt like it had been blown up to beach ball size and pumped full of raw sewage. It hurt like a bastard. There were two men standing on either side of the door. Jackson recognized Ben Grimm's younger brother, but the younger man he hadn't seen before. "Hey Wolfe, wassup?" Jackson said. Wolfe stared into empty air with stony silence. The door opened and a fat man walked in wearing a red silk dressing gown. "Hey Mr Koontz, how's it hanging?" Jackson asked. "Like a long, fat pendulum," Koontz answered. Same old Koontz, Jackson thought, a fat greasy shit with absolutely no idea of how ridiculous he looked. This was the same guy that ran the whole of the west side. A guy that crazy mad dog killers like Estevez and Winter spoke of in hushed tones. He was wearing white bunny rabbit slippers, Jackson noted. Jackson was less interested in Koontz than the tall, strikingly beautiful girl that followed him into the room. She was dressed from head to foot in tight black latex. Fuck, now that was a seriously royal piece of ass, Jackson thought. The girl was very tall, six-two or maybe six-three, even after taking into account the thigh length boots with high stiletto heels. Her long long legs were covered in rubber leggings so tight they might have been sprayed on. A tight bodice pushed up her full breasts and gave her a haughty posture. Haughty seemed an appropriate description, Jackson thought. She looked every bit the icy bondage queen. Her jet-black hair was tied back in an austere ponytail. Her full red lips were pursed together in a pout, like a precious bloom pushing up through a field of snow. Jackson wasn't surprised her skin had put him in mind of snow. For all of her sensual appearance her posture radiated about the same amount of warmth as an open grave in Siberia. "So what can I do for you Mr Koontz?" Jackson asked. "I hear you've been a naughty boy James," Koontz smiled, his two lips looking like a pair of mating slugs. A small pair of rose-tinted spectacles floated adrift in the fat sea of his face. "I'm always a naughty boy Mr Koontz. What specific naughtiness did you have in mind?" Jackson wasn't about to be intimidated by a man wearing white fluffy bunny slippers. "I was hoping you'd tell me," Koontz said, stepping forward until his face filled Jackson's field of view like a lunar eclipse. Jackson smiled back at him. Koontz was fishing. He was giving Jackson's tree a little shake, just to see what fell out. And the answer to that question was nothing. Jackson's shit was too together for that. "What can I say Mr Koontz? I'd love to help you with you being the boss and all, and what a wonderful boss might I add, but I think there's been a misunderstanding somewhere. You know me. I've always been loyal and hard-working." "Indeed you have James," Koontz said. "Crain Hill street has certainly become far more productive since you took over the reins." "The girls need a little extra encouragement now and again," Jackson smiled. "So I've heard," Koontz said. "I hear many things." "So how about untying these ropes so I can get back to my girls? You never know what they might get up to without careful supervision." "That's up to Physalia not me," Koontz smiled. He turned, revealing a wide expanse of red silk that covered his back like a tent. He walked to the door, motioning for the two guards to follow him. At the exit he turned and smiled back at Jackson. "Have fun." Physalia stepped forwards, her stiletto heels making little clicking sounds on the hard concrete floor. Her shiny latex catsuit glistened like oil beneath the light bulb. "So it's you and me babe, all alone," Jackson said. Physalia stared down at him, her cold face totally unreadable. Her body was totally hot though, Jackson thought. A narrow wasp waist bloomed into wide sexy hips and flowed on into long slim legs that would have graced any catwalk. "There's all kinds of fun we could get up to," Jackson continued. Physalia's sumptuous bee-stung lips turned up in a little half smile. "See, is that a little smile," Jackson said. "It's my natural charm you see. I just can't help it." Physalia loosened the laces of her bodice, showing Jackson a little more of her voluptuous cleavage. "You have a very nice pair of breasts there, if you don't mind me saying. I know some girls get a little prickly about it so I'd just like to add that my appreciation of your breasts doesn't mean I see you as nothing more than an object. I'm sure you have a fine brain and a fascinating personality and I'm just itching to get to know them better. But right now I'd just like to say you have a really nice pair of breasts." Jackson looked down her body to where the trim lines of her thigh and calves were sheathed in a second skin of tight black latex. Put on a pair of hooves and they'd shame a champion racehorse. "Can I also point out that you also have a fabulous pair of legs? I know some girls feel a little threatened when men compliment them, but there's no need to feel that with me. I just felt the need to tell you that your legs, and your breasts, and that sexy little tush you got there, are all extremely beautiful." Physalia walked up to him and leaned over. Looking down he got more of a look at the slopes of her pale breasts. He also caught the scent of her perfume. It was delicate and fragrant, but for some reason reminded him of funeral parlours. "May I again complement you on your exceptionally nice breasts," Jackson said. "I know these things. I consider myself to be a connoisseur of the female form. We should go into business together. I've got contacts. I could even set you up with a little dungeon all of your own. With gilded manacles. How about it?" Physalia was wearing false nails. They were black like the wing cases of beetles. She gripped the front of Jackson's shirt and ripped it open. Buttons pinged across the room and skittered across the floor. "Hey! That was a Hamilton! That was over three hundred dollars." Physalia shot him an angry glance with her deep brown eyes. "Ah but it's only a shirt. I've got plenty more of them at home." Physalia ran her hands slowly over Jackson's muscular chest, her fake nails tickling his skin. She reached his nipple and gave it a hard little tweak. "Ow!" Jackson said. "May I just take this opportunity to mention pain isn't really a massive turn on for me. I'm not a wimp or anything like that. I'm just the kind of guy that prefers a kiss to a slap if you know what I mean. I know. Why don't you pretend to hit me really hard and I'll pretend to shout out really loud? What do you say? That way we can both be happy." Physalia put her hands on Jackson's knees and forced them apart. She moved into the space and went down on her knees until her head was just above his lap. Her fingers dextrously undid his fly and Jackson could finally let out a sigh of relief. "He's a right joker isn't he, old Koontzie? He gets some goons to bash me on the back of my head, ties me to a chair and gets me all shit-scared and why? I mean I have no fucking clue." Physalia pulled down his trousers and the boxers underneath until Jackson felt cold air against his cock. "So here I am, all freaking out and confused as to why my boss would bash me on the head, abduct my ass and tie me to a chair, especially given the shit-ton of money I've made him by whipping his Crain Hill street 'ho's into shape, and it turns out this is his warped way of showing his appreciation. I mean what a guy. He's a complete nut job, but what a guy." Physalia lifted his drooping cock with her thumb and forefinger and pursed her luscious red lips. Jackson waited for the blow job, but it never came. Instead she lightly blew on his cock. The warm air flowed around his member and incredibly it twitched into life, swiftly rising to a full erection. She continued blowing until his cock swelled up to its maximum length. "That's some party trick babe," Jackson said. "You must be one of Koontz's special girls. I heard a lot about them. It's an honour to finally meet one of you. I'm at the lower end of the scale at the moment, but not for long. I'm moving up. I'm a man with drive and ambition. Stick close to me and I'll get you business with the stars. Affleck, Gyllenhaal, Hartnett... I can make it happen I'm telling you." Jackson was surprised she'd got him aroused so quickly, especially after he'd spent the whole morning fucking one of his 'ho's. They were always so obliging when he brought round their weekly bag of white powder. Physalia stepped back. She was wearing the kind of rubber catsuit that had a zipper at the crotch. She unzipped it and exposed the fleshy folds of her vagina to the open air. Jackson could see she was already highly aroused. Her juices dribbled over the zipper and onto the shiny black rubber. Jackson looked at her unzipped crotch and for a brief moment he saw the superimposed image of a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. He blinked and it was just a regular zipper again. "Fuck babe, now that's what I call keen," Jackson said. "I guess the sight of little old me tied to this chair is quite the turn on for you." Physalia stepped forward and elegantly lifted first one and then her other leg until she straddled his lap. "And there was me thinking you dominatrix types weren't all that interested in sex. There's a couple of girls I know that go all wet at the thought of beating the crap out of some dumb banker and watching him come all over the floor, but they'd actually physically vomit if that same little limp cock came anywhere near their pussies. That might be because they're more into each other if you know what I mean." Physalia lifted herself up until the moist lips of her vagina rested against the head of Jackson's cock. She put her hands on his shoulders. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I don't want sex. I love sex. I'm just a little surprised this is what you want as well. You see I'm a little confused over this little relationship we appear to have here. I mean who exactly is getting their Christmas bonus here. Mr Koontz wasn't clear on—" Physalia slid down, slowly drawing Jackson's cock all the way up into her tight vagina and performing the impossible by temporarily rendering him speechless. "Oh fuck baby. So that's what high class pussy feels like." She was hot, juicy and very tight. Physalia began to thrust her hips back and forth with a slow, steady rhythm. The full curves of her pale breasts rose up and down in front of him. No wonder Koontz was able to get all those big shot senators and judges to eat out of his hand if he supplied them with girls like this, Jackson thought. He could feel the silken walls of her vagina stroking against every millimetre of his flesh as she moved up and down. He needed to have some words with his bitches when he got back. They had a lot to learn. Remembering to squeeze their cunt muscles so it didn't feel like he was fucking empty air would be a good start. Physalia stared into his eyes with her brown eyes and continued to thrust against him with slow and steady movements of her hips. He felt the smooth rubber surface of her catsuit as she moved against his thighs. Jackson wanted to thrust back into her, but being tied to a chair restricted his movements. It didn't matter too much. She'd found a nice rhythm and Jackson was content to sit back and feel his cock slip back and forth into the slick warmth of her pussy. "You're really fucking good baby, you know that," Jackson said. "How about you untie these ropes and we'll really get down to it?" Physalia ignored him. Her hips kept moving up and down with the same steady rhythm as her sumptuous flesh sucked the full length of Jackson's cock. "Oh baby," Jackson sighed. He closed his eyes. He wasn't going to last much longer, not with that luscious pussy giving his cock a thorough working over. "Oh—." Jackson's balls tightened and he grunted as he felt them empty their contents into her warm pussy. "I hope you're on some kind of birth control," Jackson said. "Daddy Jackson's little boys are quite the swimmers." Physalia's face was completely impassive. He could have sworn he'd felt her pussy vibrate around his cock in simultaneous orgasm, but her face didn't betray a single flicker of emotion. Her brown eyes were indifferent as she stared into his; her lips were still pursed in that same bee-stung pout. "You really like playing the ice maiden don't you," Jackson said. "What's wrong with a little smile now and again? Especially when we're having such sweet sex together." "You revolt me," Physalia said. Her voice was elegant, cultured and about as warm as an artic wind. So she did speak. "Baby, that's harsh," Jackson said. "You haven't really gotten to know me yet. I'm sure with time you'll find I'm merely repulsive." Physalia was still rocking back and forth in his lap with the same steady rhythm. Jackson was surprised to find his erection showed no signs of receding either. Even after just coming it was rock hard and eager to be engulfed in the dark warmth of her pussy. "Damn girl, you're like human Viagra. I gotta get you to come and teach my girls some tricks. No wonder Mr Koontz has all those city bigwigs doing whatever he tells them." "I'm not a hooker," Physalia said. She continued to rise up and down on his cock with steady thrusts of her hips. He closed his eyes and grunted as her pussy effortlessly stroked his cock to a second orgasm. Wow, so soon. That one had caught Jackson unawares. He lay back and savoured the feeling as his cock spurted another thick stream of sperm into her moist pussy. He didn't feel like he was finished either. Neither was Physalia. She paused long enough to let her pussy suck up his seed before resuming her steady pelvic thrusts. And he was still fucking hard. Where had Koontz found her? She was fucking incredible. "No? Then what's this?" Jackson smiled. "Torture," Physalia replied. "Torture?" Jackson had to laugh. "If this is torture give me an orange jumpsuit and put me on the next flight to Gitmo. Oh please stop with the fucking my brains out. My body can't stand the stress of all these multiple orgasms." Physalia's full bee-stung lips twisted up into a smile. "You know, I think I preferred it when you were all icy and impassive," Jackson said. He tried to sound flippant but there was something about her smile that injected ice water directly into his spine. "It feels pleasurable now. The first few ejaculations always are, before the testicles run dry. After the fifth you will start to feel pain. After the tenth you will be in agony. By the twentieth you will be begging me to kill you." Was she serious? Her eyes certainly looked serious. "You should lay off the crack you crazy 'ho," Jackson laughed. "It ain't humanly possible to get any man to come that many times." Physalia cupped a black-nailed hand beneath Jackson's chin and tilted his head up until his gaze was level with hers. "Who said anything about being human?" she said. Jackson grunted and his hips jerked forwards as his cock spurted another load of semen into her pussy. Again? So soon. "I'm a succubus," Physalia said. "That's nice babe. I'll be sure to let you know if I come across any public transportation in need of oral stimulation." Fuck Koontz. Was everyone in your household completely fucking nuts? Physalia smiled and continued to rock up and down on Jackson's cock with slow, steady thrusts. She hadn't changed rhythm since she'd started to fuck him and his cock still remained hard, even after coming three times. The soft muscular walls of her pussy stroked and squeezed his cock, stimulating his body to yet another orgasm. Fuck, he was about to come again. Jackson closed his eyes and thrust his hips up as another bolt of semen exploded from his balls. The afterglow wasn't quite so pleasant this time as he felt a scratchy ache start up in his sac. "Would it be easier to understand if I told you a succubus is a sex demon?" Physalia said. "We feed off male sexual fluids like a vampire drinks blood." "Whatever you say babe. You might want to cut down on the drugs." Interrocution Five more slow, sucking strokes and Jackson was coming again. This time the pleasure was completely eclipsed by a burning ache that started in his balls and began to spread outwards. There was nothing left in his sac, but still his cock wasn't going down. How was that possible? She must have coated the inside of her vagina with some kind of freaky Viagra cream or something. She continued to move her hips up and down his cock with the same regular rhythm. After the fourth stroke Jackson could feel the next orgasm stirring. There was no pleasurable anticipation of release this time. Instead Jackson gritted his teeth in preparation for the pain to come. It was worse than he feared. It felt like ejaculating razor blades. It felt like Physalia had shot fish hooks into his testicles and was trying to reel them up through his cock. He thrashed and squirmed in the chair as what started as a minor niggle began to build into a towering wave of pain. Jackson was no longer enjoying this. "My sisters are more tender with their prey," Physalia said. "They get caught up in the sensuality and pleasure of human sex. They pretend to love their victims. They enfold them in feelings of euphoric bliss because they believe it is easier to suck out their prey's life fluids if it enjoys it." Jackson gave a little cry as a seventh orgasm was ripped from his body. Fish hooks on tiny filaments had spread from his balls and into his lower abdomen. He felt them tear and pull his flesh as her cunt remorselessly sucked on his cock. "I don't care if you enjoy this or not. You are food. I'll swallow your life as easily as you'd drink a glass of milk," Physalia said, her eyes cold. Jackson's eyes were watering with pain as the eighth orgasm hit. White-hot hooks were embedded in all of his soft vital organs. Their lines trailed back out through the centre of his cock and into her insatiable cunt. She sucked and his balls exploded in a blazing supernova of agony. "No more!" Jackson screamed as his body twitched and bucked for a ninth time. A nest of ants had settled in his guts and were slowly eating him away from the inside. "We did it," he added breathlessly. "I found out about the two mules coming across from Columbia from one of the new girls. We picked them up at the airport, cut them open, took the drugs and disposed of the bodies out by the old mines. The drugs are still at Montague's place. This isn't all. There are plans against the fat man. I can give you names. Stop. Please. I'll tell you everything." Physalia threw back her head and laughed. Her body juddered and shook. Jackson watched in horror as two great bat wings unfurled from her back and expanded in twitching shudders. They spread wide behind her, catching the light from the dirty electric bulb and throwing abyssal shadows across the room. Physalia tipped her head forward and looked at Jackson. Her eyes were gone, replaced with two empty windows into a vast abyss that trapped Jackson's gaze and pulled him into a darkness that stretched on for eternity. Her bee-stung lips were black like the buboes of a plague victim. She opened her mouth to reveal long fangs. "Whatever gave you the impression this was an interrogation," she said in a voice that echoed with the cadence of twisted pieces of metal rubbing together. Jackson tried to pull away, but he was tied to a chair that was bolted to the floor. The demon continued to thrust her hips against him in the same steady rhythm. Her tight pussy refused to release his cock or let it go down. He was still hard and helpless as his body continued to respond to the hot embrace of her pussy. He felt her hooks proliferate throughout his body until every soft tissue felt the remorseless tug of her cunt. No, not again. Jackson screamed as a tenth orgasm erupted from his body. It felt like a stream of boiling lava was flowing up his cock, burning it from the inside. He was still screaming when the succubus wrapped her leathery wings around him, enfolding him in a darkness from which there was no escape. Jackson kept on screaming and didn't stop until the succubus had finally drained every last drop of fluid from his body. ***** "Fuck, that's some high class talent," Dwyer said after Koontz left them outside to guard the door. Wolfe didn't say anything. "Did you see the legs on her? And the ass? And those breasts? Fuck man. I know she looks mean enough to tear you in half in bed, but that's a risk worth taking. Wolfe didn't say anything. "And that tight rubber catsuit. I know some people think that's too freaky, but me, man I love that shit. How tall do you think she was? Taller than me?" Wolfe didn't say anything. Dwyer was still gushing about the girl in shiny black rubber when the screams started. "Heh heh. Sounds like she's really going to town on him. I really wish I could see this. Do you think she'd mind if I took a peek?" Dwyer stopped chuckling once the screams passed the hour mark. Once they reached the three hour mark Dwyer quietly apologized before turning around and vomiting on the wall. Wolfe looked on sympathetically. The screams no longer sounded human. They had become a pure distillate of agony that cut through the ear drums and bypassed the brain entirely before sinking talons right into a man's naked soul. The screams stopped shortly after, bringing a blissful silence to the plain corridor. The silence was broken as the door opened and the girl walked out. She didn't even deign to look at the two men before walking off down the corridor, her high stiletto heels clicking on the concrete floor. Slowly, Dwyer and Wolfe entered the room. "Fuck!" Dwyer said. He brought up a hand but it wasn't fast enough to catch the stream of vomit that gushed from his mouth. There was nothing left of the figure tied to the chair apart from skin and sinew wrapped over twisted bones. Empty eyes stared at the ceiling and the mouth was frozen open in a soundless scream of agony. "Christ. Jesus fucking Christ," Dwyer said. "What did he do to get Koontz this pissed?" "This was for your benefit not his," Wolfe said, moving over to pick up the desiccated corpse. The wrists and ankles had shrivelled up so much the binding ropes had fallen away. "All the new guys get an assignment like this. It's a lesson." He picked up the corpse. "Don't cross Mr Koontz and don't EVER go near his girls."