2 comments/ 25530 views/ 11 favorites Lotus Queen, or Sex and Kungfu Ch. 01 By: JMaxwell69 Billy Smithson looked at the door wide-eyed when he heard the rusty bolt sliding to a sharp metallic clack - the noise of which reverberated through his concrete cell. He felt exposed and vulnerable. Smithson, a sophomore at Pace University, lay naked and spread-eagle on his back strapped to an odd sort of table. He had tried to escape, but the more he struggled the more his restraints seemed to tighten and bind. He was gagged, and his attempts to call out amounted to no more than a feeble "m" sound. When the door opened, he was shocked to see two lovely Asian girls of about his own age walk through one after the other. His feelings were mixed. He had been terrified that some big goon with a hot cattle brand was going to come through the door or maybe an al-Qaida kook with a big decapitating knife and a video-camera. So, in one sense, he was happy to see the innocuous looking girls enter, each giving him a warm bubbly smile as if they were greeters in a Tokyo or Shanghai department store. On the other hand, it was incredibly embarrassing and humiliating to be on display, particularly in front of two attractive girls. Smithson was in good shape and was not particularly shy about his body, but, still, the girls' glances seemed to cut through him. Billy then recalled his last memory before waking up in this place. It was talking to a cute Chinese girl in a college dive. She had intimated that her apartment was nearby, and her roommate was away visiting parents. Smithson didn't give a second thought to leaving with what he considered a "hot Asian chick", and, the next thing he knew, he was strapped naked to a table in a small concrete cell staring up at a the peeling paint and brown water stains on the ceiling. The girl who he had been walking with had looked like these girls in that she had had long jet-black hair that was worn up, the same placid cream skin, and the same lithe figure. "You must be terribly hungry. We will get you some food shortly, but now it's time for your first treatment, Mr. Smithson. Do you need to void your bowels or bladder? This will go more smoothly if you get that out of the way. Nod your head once if you need to pee, twice if you need to poop, and three times if you need both." One of the girls said. Billy nodded once. The girl moved his flaccid dick so that it pointed down between his legs. "OK, go ahead...There is a hole cut out in the table and a drain below you. You can urinate or defecate whenever you'd like. Then, if we are not here, just push this button, and one of us will come to hose you down." The girl said moving Billy's fingers over the edge of the table to a button with her warm smooth hand. Billy's brow furrowed. He had no intention of peeing on himself or the edge of the table to which he was strapped. He had wondered about the garden hose that was coiled on an old car's rim on the wall, and about the bit of chill on the backs of this thighs and butt. He was left with a conundrum. He had no way to communicate his desire to be allowed to go to the restroom because of the gag and restraints. "Do you have a shy bladder? Would you like us to come back in a minute?" The other girl asked. Then the first girl said to the second. "Do you think we should put in a catheter?" Billy went wide-eyed, and dearly hoped she was joking though she gave no hint that she was. "Tell you what... we'll come back in five minutes. You either do your business, or we'll stick a tube up your urethra." The first girl said. Billy's mind raced. Why were they doing this to him? How could he try to communicate with them? What kind of "treatment" were they talking about? Had he done anything that would anger someone so much they would go to these elaborate lengths to get even? Could these be the girlfriends of some girl who had had a bad experience with him? He didn't think so. He couldn't remember doing anything with the Chinese girl from the other night and he hadn't had that much to drink. She was the only Chinese or Asian girl he'd ever gotten close to sleeping with, but the last thing he could remember was walking with her down the sidewalk. What happened after that? He tried to remember, and wished he could apologize. He hadn't broken up on bad terms with any girls so far as he knew, and the few girls he had slept with without dating seemed no more after a commitment than was he. It had to be connected with the Chinese girl from the bar, but how? Could he have done something to her, something bad, and repressed the memory? He couldn't imagine having done so. He had no history of being other than a gentleman, or at least as respectful as boys his age got. These girls seemed so polite to him. If this was some revenge caper, wouldn't they be hostile towards him. Of course, in a way, they were being hostile to him. They were humiliating him. They were just doing it with polite smiles. Maybe he was just a random victim. Maybe he hadn't done anything to bring this upon himself. But what was he to be a victim of, besides wanton embarrassment? He pushed dreaded possibilities from his mind, like the urban legend about kidney removal. He had had to pee so badly earlier, and now he couldn't bring himself to do so. He willed himself to calm down and relax. He knew that was the only way he was going to avoid the horrible alternative mentioned to him. He pushed aside thoughts of the possible horrendous fates he might face. He rationalized that any minute NYPD would break in and rescue him. He just needed to get through one thing at a time. He tried to visualize standing at a urinal. The flow came and he resisted the urge to clench up when he felt the trickle of hot liquid on his inner thighs. As far as he knew or could remember, he hadn't urinated lying down since he was an infant. It was so demoralizing. He heard his water spatter on the drain below. He felt unclean. It seemed like an eternity of waiting, though it was probably only a couple minutes, before the two girls returned. Smithson did not want to press the button because he wanted to stall whatever the "treatment" was that he was supposed to receive. He had to believe he would be rescued soon. One of the girls was in the process of pulling on a pair of rubber gloves when they returned. This made Billy a little queasy because the gloves conjured up images of surgical procedures. "Good job. I think you made a wise choice." It was a patronizing compliment by the girl without gloves. The gloveless girl uncoiled a section of hose and, moving toward the table, directed a light spray of warm water between Billy's legs, over the table, and then washed it all down the drain. She then ran some water onto the gloved hands of the other girl, who had some sort of soap in her palm. That girl lathered up, and proceeded to wash the table and those parts of Billy's anatomy that had been soiled. She started with his inner thighs. It felt quite pleasant, but Billy was too mortified and demoralized to become aroused by it. He was being treated like an infant. When the girl's soft touch passed over his ass, then lightly washed his testicles, and then began to clean his penis, it became increasingly difficult to avoid succumbing to the pleasure. However, being treated like an infant gave him a knot in the pit of his stomach. "Don't you like that? Doesn't it feel good?" The other girl said in the almost shy yet coquettish fashion that makes men enamored of women of the Orient. Smithson looked over to see that girl was topless, having removed her blouse and hung it on a hook, and was in the process of removing her skirt and panties to do the same with them. "It's OK to get excited. You like girls don't you?" The girl said with a punctuating giggle as the other girl went from washing to stroking. The nude girl approached running a warm soft hand lightly and seductively over Smithson's chest. Billy's heart seemed to skip a beat and his breath caught in his throat. "Oh, I think he likes girls." The stroking girl said to the other, nodding at the rigid purple soapy member now in her hand. The nude girl leaned in close running her fingernails lightly through Smithson's hair and raking them over his scalp to excite the skin and generate pleasant tingles. Billy was conscious that, as she leaned over him, her pert warm breasts pushed against the side of his own chest. Her mouth was close to his ear, and the glorious scent of jasmine intoxicated him. She spoke, "I know this must be disconcerting for you, but all you have to do is lay there and enjoy. There is nothing to be gained from resisting. Just relax and let us take care of you." Smithson was so excited now that he was about to climax, though he willed himself to hold out. Just when he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, the stroking stopped abruptly, and he felt a sharp pressure between his legs below his testicles. Then there was a spray of water. This time it was cold water. "Sorry about that, but we need to put on your ring." The first girl said. Ring? What was she talking about? Billy's head was spinning. On the one hand, he liked hand-jobs from sensual Chinese beauties as much as the next guy, but, on the other hand, it was all just so bizarre. What was the purpose? Where was this going, and, of ultimate concern, was it going to take a bad turn at some point? Smithson remembered a movie in which a man was drugged and video-taped such that it appeared he was cheating on his wife, and then blackmailed for some purpose Smithson couldn't remember. However, Billy was single and hadn't even been steadily dating anyone since he and Stephanie Jensen broke up of mutual agreement five weeks ago. Furthermore, he was clearly tied down and gagged, and so in any video he would appear as he was, a helpless victim. They could threaten to show his parents, but his mom and dad both knew he was not a virgin, and, while it would be embarrassing, it would not be the end of the world. He was not from some kind of ultra-conservative background. All these thoughts were an attempt to make sense of strange events in a world he almost didn't recognize. All paths toward reason, however, came to a dead-end. The ring mystery was solved when the girl who had been washing Smithson returned to the table with a stainless steel ring of approximately three inches in diameter hooked on her finger in a hand that held a towel. She took the large white terry towel and began to thoroughly dry Billy and the plastic surfaces under him that were still wet. While Smithson had never worn a cock-ring, he had seen porn videos on the internet in which they were worn, and, therefore, was not surprised when the girl began to gingerly work one nut at a time through the hoop before pulling his flaccid cock through. Smithson knew that the purpose of the ring was to intensify and extend erections. It was still not clear to Billy why they would need the ring. He was trying to reason through alternative explanations when the nude girl climbed up onto the table and took to straddling him. Immediately, he found it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the beautiful nude astride him. She ran her warm hands over his flesh seductively while occasionally letting the nails rake across his flesh. He felt the unusual feeling of constriction as his cock became engorged within the ring. The nude girl spoke to him. "Oh you are such a stud; you make me so hot." She said in a breathy excited voice. Then, in a shy, naïve, and vulnerable voice, she said, "Do you think I'm pretty." Smithson nodded his head slowly. It was the only way he could signal an answer in the affirmative. Smithson was so focused on the girl and the overall euphoric pleasure he was experiencing that he hardly noticed the snap of the other girl putting on a fresh pair of gloves, the cold lube running down his shaft, or the resumption of the hand job. He couldn't see how stiff and darkly colored his cock had become, but he could feel it. However, it all blended together in a general head-to-toe feeling of arousal. The nude leaned forward pressing her small but shapely breasts against Smithson's chest. Once again, as he breathed in her perfume, he thought he might pass out from the blood rushing away from his brain. She spoke into his ear as if asking something requiring the utmost confidentiality, "You want to fuck me don't you?" Smithson again shook his head "yes" in a way the girl was too close to see, but could feel. Resuming the whisper, she continued speaking, "What about my friend? She needs a big hard cock in her cunt too. Would you put yours inside her?" He nodded once more. "I have a secret. I love cum. I think it's so yummy. Would you make some nice creamy yummy cum for me?" She whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair. While the cock-ring extended out the period before his climax, it did not take too many more exchanges in this one-way conversation before he was on the verge of cumming. Once again, as before, this resulted in the hand-job stopping and a light pressure being applied at his perineum. The purpose of the cock-ring was now clear. They did not really want him to cum. Why would you kidnap a man just to repeatedly bring him to the edge of climax? It didn't make any sense. The fact that it didn't make any sense caused Bill to consider the crazy and dire possibilities. The nude girl hopped down off the table nimbly. She then walked up to the other girl and took her in an embrace. Nude girl spoke, "It's too bad you're all tied up, and can't help us out." To punctuate this statement, the nude girl began to kiss the other girl who was wearing short-shorts and a cotton tank top. Each girl's mouth opened as the kiss became more passionate, and the clothed girl's hands began to roam over the nude girl's body. The clothed girl let down the nude girl's hair, and it fell in a silky curtain, which the clothed girl swept over nude girl's shoulder so that she could kiss nude girl's neck and shoulder. Smithson's erection was now painful, with the skin pulled so rigid the light glimmered off it as if it were metal. Nude girl pulled the other girl's top off to make her topless girl. Nude girl kissed and gently sucked topless girl's hardened nipples. Then both girls became nude as the girl who had been astride Billy, dropped the shorts and undies of the girl who had been giving him a hand job. Billy's head lolled to the side so he could see the action as the squatting girl lightly kissed the smoothly shaved pubic triangle of the girl she had just disrobed. That girl stood once more and the two moved closer to Billy, kissing, embracing, and caressing the entire time. "Oh, my, your cock is so hard." One of the girls said as she gave it the lightest and most tender stroke. One of the girls slipped behind the other into a standing spooned position. The girl behind reached down and put her fingers between the front girl's legs. They were so close, and the cell so quiet, that Billy could hear the delicate moist sounds as the girl squatted slightly so that the girl to the rear could part her labia. The moist sounds continued as the girl behind gently stroked the sex of the girl to the fore. The girl being massaged tilted her head back and softly moaned. The girl who was doing the stimulating concluded, withdrew her hand, and popped her index finger into her mouth. "It tastes so good. Would you like to try some? The girl said as she put a finger under Billy's nose. It was a mean tease because the gag prevented his mouth from accepting the digit. Still, the aroma of the girl's hot sex aroused him still further. The other girl lightly massaged his nuts. "Time is up for this session, but we'll be back." The girl said as she withdrew her finger and gave Smithson a kiss on the cheek. Lotus Queen, or Sex and Kungfu Ch. 02 "Sure is a quiet night, for a full moon and all." Patrolman Valkov said- half in jest. "It'll pick up. You wait. The full moon always brings out the crazies." Sergeant Raimes, Valkov's supervisor, replied. The full moon showed itself intermittently between jagged sailing clouds, and, when it did, it cast the city in feeble light and deep inky shadows. It had rained earlier and the clouds that remained were the tailing edge of the weather system. As the moon passed behind clouds, the way it lit the feathered edge of cloud seemed to be straight out of a Werewolf movie. "Turn around here. We'll cut over to Amsterdam. There may be something going on over there." Raimes said. "Sure thing, Sarg." Valkov responded, and then he turned sharply nosing into an alleyway to begin a three point turn. "What the...? Stop the car!" Raimes said and then he immediately jumped out of the vehicle drawing his sidearm while pulling out a small but bright tactical flashlight and assuming a Harries Method stance that allowed him to keep his weapon on target while also keeping the target in the beam of light. Then, speaking to the individual in his light, he said, "Hands! Let me see your hands." Valkov slammed the car into park, threw the emergency lights on because the tail end of the patrol car was hanging out into the street, and then got out of the car. The sight before him was almost comical. It was a Bizarro-world version of events. A pretty, young, and petite Asian girl was squatting down preparing to lift the inert form of a young man into the trunk of a car. The young man had blond-hair, was athletically built, and looked to be a college kid. His hands were bound and there was a patch of duct-tape over his mouth. The girl was also about college age, had shiny straight black hair, and was wearing a cleavage-accentuating corset top. The girl, who looked to be Chinese, let go of the boy's head and it dropped with a quiet but disconcerting thud to the pavement. She raised her hands while slowly standing. As she was doing so, she looked from the alley to the street. The alley seemed to be a dead-end, but the opening of the alleyway onto the street didn't present an appealing escape route because it would mean running toward the police onto a well-lit sidewalk. "Valkov, cuff her and then search her." Raimes said. As Valkov approached the young woman, she began to slowly move to her side toward the edge of the alley. It was a subtle movement that was not meant to unnerve the officer, but rather seemed perfectly benign. Valkov, in a combination of rookie mistake and overconfidence about the threat presented by a Chinese girl of slight build, did not notice that the young woman was putting him in the line of fire between her and Sgt. Raimes. Raimes noticed this tactic immediately, and began to shift to toward the opposite side of the alley to maintain his bead. He did not want to yell, either to Valkov or the girl, because he was afraid it would distract Valkov and the rookie would look over his shoulder taking his eyes off the woman at a dangerous juncture. Raimes, therefore, just cursed under his breath. "Face the wall, and put your hands on your head." Valkov commanded. The girl, now playing the shy polite Asian girl to the nines, did as she was instructed with a cute and innocent smile. As Valkov began to snap the first cuff around the girl's wrist, she spun around in an almost impossible burst of speed, snatching out a concealed dagger from her waist, and driving it into Valkov's chest. The patrolman reacted too late, and had only the time to twist sharply. Valkov shrieked and dropped to his knees. The dagger had gone into the Kevlar bulletproof vest obliquely due to Valkov's twist, and became lodged in the dense tight-knit material. The girl let go when she realized she could not easily withdraw the weapon, and knowing taking advantage of surprise was essential. She dropped and rolled, as a piece of brick shattered over her head. It was Sgt Raimes' first shot. As she came up running into the darkness of the alley, Raimes got off a second shot that winged her, but did not stop her fast and committed motion. Then she was in the blackness of the alley. Raimes pursued, but cautiously. He kept the flashlight beam, his gun, and his eyes always pointing in the same direction. He put his partner out of his mind for a minute, reasoning that as soon as the threat was gone he would check on Valkov. When he came to a dumpster he edged in a wide arc around it careful to minimize his vulnerability through well-engrained tactics. He made sure to look up, in case the girl had made it to a fire-escape. He systematically searched. There was articulated garage door, and Raimes made certain it was secured. "Got you covered, Sarg." Valkov said, beginning to come up behind and startling Raimes. The junior patrolman now had weapon and light drawn. "You OK?" Raimes said, still searching. "Yeah, the knife only made it a little way through the vest, I think I got a little cut on my chest but I won't bleed out. I thought for sure it went all the way in. It sure felt like it." Valkov said. "Good, check that door, and be careful. Stay to the side." Raimes commanded. Valkov, standing to the side as directed, tried to open one of two metal doors in the alley. "It's locked, Sarg." Valkov said rattling the door. Raimes checked the other door. It, too, was locked. "In the dumpster." Raimes mouthed quietly so that Valkov could hear, but anyone in the dumpster couldn't. The interior of the dumpster seemed to be the only remaining hiding place available. Raimes got low, and put his hand on the lid, ushering Valkov to keep his weapon drawn and aimed at the opening. With a swift motion the Sergeant pushed open the door, and cautiously peered over the edge. He worked his way around making sure there was no place that the perpetrator could hug tight to the dumpster wall to avoid detection. All of a sudden, there was a low "MMMM-mmm" sound. It was the young man, who had apparently regained consciousness. Valkov went to remove the young man's gag and bindings, as Raimes had one more look around for the girl who had vanished into thin air. "Call it in, Valkov. Have them put out a BOLO for that girl." Raimes told Valkov. When he came back, Raimes spoke to the young man, "And who might you be?" "Trevor Wardlaw. I'm a grad student at Columbia." The young man said. *** Mei's tricep still burned, but it was not as agonizing as when her comrade, Xin, had poured peroxide over the wound to cleanse it. The bullet had not gone into the muscle but had torn a gash along the back of her arm. It was a combination of skill and luck that had gotten her out alive. She had used her ability to move stealthily and her keen hearing to double back out of the alley. It had all hinged on taking advantage of the officer's concern about the dumpster as an ambush point to creep along the opposite wall one painfully slow step at a time. Still she had almost been caught when the second officer turned his flashlight on unexpectedly. One couldn't keep misfortune from frowning one. The best you could do was to prepare for the worst case, and, thus, hopefully mitigate the damage. Xin spoke as she finished taping a gauze bandage over the wound that she had cleaned and to which she had applied antibiotic ointment, "The Mistress wants to see you immediately." "Certainly, where can I find her?" Mei said, attempting to be nonchalant but dreading the conversation. "She's with one of the men, in the caves." Xin said. The "caves" were what they called a series of concrete cells. The facility had once been a warehouse that stored explosive materials. It had a series of thick walled containment spaces that were designed to contain explosions and keep them from taking the whole place down. It had been used for that purpose in over a decade. It had been entirely vacant for several years before they bought it for a song. Mei exited the construction trailer and walked through the open space at one end of the facility. The clack of her heels echoed through the cavernous space. It smelled dusty and musty. The Mistress kept odd hours. It was now the wee early morning hours, during which most people slept unless they were, like Mei, forced by the dictates of their occupations to be up. Mei knew which cell it was because the steel slab of door was open. The young beauty moved quietly to the cell and stood in the doorway. Mei was looking at the back of Mistress Ling and the soles of the feet of the young man she was squatting astride. The Mistress presented an enigma. Her silken silver-hair suggested an advanced age. However, her ability squat over the young man and engage in controlled bounce to take the man's cock inside her was a more physically challenging than many young athletic individuals could carry out for such an extended period. Ling wore a black thin clingy slip-like camisole that was loosely bunched up at her waist and dipped down in the back to show the smooth skin over an athletically muscled back. "They say you failed spectacularly. Is it true?" Ling asked without missing a stroke. "Yes, Mistress. A police patrol happened along as I was..." Mei began to explain. "I don't need to hear excuses. I just need to hear what damage was done." Mistress Ling interrupted Mei while continuing to ride the young man. "I was not able to get away with the man. Also, I lost the dagger." Mei said. "Dear girl. You were one of my favorites. I had great expectations for you. That is why I entrusted you with the dagger. It is only because of this that I am willing to give you one opportunity to redeem yourself. You must find out what the authorities know, make certain they cannot interrupt our activities, and it is vitally important that you reacquire that dagger." Ling said without the slightest interruption of her rhythm as she continued to fuck the young man who wore a cock-ring to prevent his release. "Yes, Mistress." Mei said, looking at the strained expression on the man's face and trying to determine if it was agony or ecstasy. The difference would be in whether the Mistress was five minutes or five hours into the session. Mistress Ling was known to practice sex without release for hours as a means to build chi and to train her body. "You are dismissed." Ling said. Lotus Queen, or Sex and Kungfu Ch. 03 It was a breezy autumn evening as two trench coat wearing NYPD detectives walked down a side street in Chinatown. The sidewalk glowed red with the cumulative reflection of stoplights, tail-lights, and marketing signs. The threat that the sheen on the pavement might be refreshed by yet more rains remained. Most, but not all, of the businesses complied with the requirement to have signage in English, but it still took great efforts to find the right place. The little section of red awning over the door said "Pei Ying Stationary and Gifts" in English letters below larger Chinese characters that Detective Rathko assumed said the same thing. The awning sign was old and faded, but while large flecks of the lettering had chipped off over the years there was enough of the jigsaw puzzle left to read the sign clearly. "Is this the place, Chow." Detective Rathko, the more senior detective, asked his younger partner in a thick New York accent. Rathko shone the beam of a flashlight on the sign because, while it was not yet 7:00pm, it was already dark, and the nearest streetlight was out. "The number is right, but it's not supposed to be a tchotchkes store. We'll see." Detective Chow replied without any discernable accent as she pressed the button on the intercom. "Ke yi bang ni ma?" A voice, which sounded like an elderly woman, came over the intercom in sing-song Mandarin Chinese asking if she could be of assistance. "Ni hao. It's Detectives Rathko and Chow of 5th Precinct. We made an appointment to speak with Sifu Chen." Detective Mandy Chow said. The buzzer immediately sounded, and Chow pulled open the wrought-iron burglar-bars and found the inner door unlocked. The door, as expected from the narrow frontage, opened into a steep staircase that lead up to an interior door at the back of the building on the second story. By the time the two cops had gotten to the top of the stairs a woman, presumably the one who answered the intercom, had opened the door, and she stood aside quietly while the two entered. After closing the door behind them, as soon as the detectives shed their shoes, she directed them to follow her. The inside was quite different from the run-of-the-mill brown brick storefront exterior. It was a pristinely maintained unit painted a deep red and trimmed with gold. There were plants here and there, along with calligraphy and paintings of Ming Era scenes. They walked along the back wall of what seemed to be a small martial arts training hall. There were four students following the motions of an instructor doing a Tai Chi Chuan form. The class moved slowly and smoothly together almost as a single unit. The old lady bowed slightly as she silently extended a hand toward a door ushering the two detectives into a room. Sitting on a cushion, which in turn was upon a mat, was an old man with a white beard wearing white loose-fitting robe-like garb. "Ahh. Detectives, please come in and have a seat." The old man said directing Rathko and Chow to sit on cushions themselves. Chow took a seat smoothly, but the process was awkward for the muscular but inflexible Rathko. "Detective Rathko, would you like a chair? Americans are not used to sitting this way." Master Chen asked. "No thanks. I'll be OK." Rathko said, following the "when in Rome" rule his first partner had taught him. "Then, what can I do for you?" The master said in accented English. "Word on the street is that you might be able to identify a piece of evidence." Rathko opened an expandable file and extracted a plastic baggy with a dagger in it. The dagger had a manila colored tag tied to it. Rathko handed the baggy to the old man. The master looked at it conscientiously through the clear bag. He turned it over, and looked at it multiple ways. "So, Master Chen, have you seen it before?" Rathko asked. "Not this one, but I have seen ones like it. I think I can provide you some useful information." Chen said. "So tell us about it." Chow said as she flipped open a notebook and clicked her pen. "It was made by a man named Xinlu from Shaanxi Provence in China. Xinlu died during the Cultural Revolution over forty years ago." Chen said. "You're sure." Rathko said. "Yes, this was handmade. It has his marks, and is very much in his style. There was a time when things were made by hand and they bore the mark of their maker." Chen said. "We're not meaning to challenge your conclusion, but it is unfortunate for us." Rathko said. "Why is that?" Chen asked. "Because if this is over 40 years old..." Rathko began Chen interrupted. "More like 55." "What?" Chow said. "Xinlu had bad arthritis for the last 15 years of his life, and stopped making weapons. He thought his affliction was from not living in accordance with the Way, and he resigned himself to give up making instruments of death." Chen elaborated. "Even more so. If this is over 55 years old, it didn't come from its original owner. That person is likely long gone." Rathko explained. "Tea?" The lady had returned stealthily and held out a lacquered wood tray between the detectives that held three steaming cups of tea. "Thank you." The two detectives said simultaneously as Chen said the same in Chinese. "Not necessarily. Consider the inscription." Chen said returning smoothly to the conversation at hand. "What does it say?" Chow asked. "You can't read it?" Chen said. "No." Chow said. "Really?... I would not have taken you for an illiterate." Chen said, not missing a chance to impart a lesson in humility in his usual style. "Only in Chinese. I read English quite well." Chow said defensively. Chen flashed a Cheshire grin. He enjoyed giving people opportunities to know themselves better and to overcome instincts toward pettiness. "Roughly, it says, 'Ling, best of luck in your search for immortality.'" Chen read. "That's even more evidence that the owner would be long past. If they were old enough, 55 years ago, to be searching for immortality, they would definitely be six feet under today. It could have been an heirloom that ended up being pawned off to some random person." Rathko said. "Unless she succeeded..." Chen said. This time he was not smiling. "You don't really believe that someone can live forever, do you?" Rathko asked. "A given body can't stay alive forever, but it can for much longer than you would expect, detective." Chen said, sipping his tea. "Oh. One more thing. Have you ever seen this girl?" Rathko said, handing a police sketch over to Chen. "No, but she is a looker, isn't she." Chen said looking at the drawing. It was a girl of about 19 or 20 with straight jet black silky hair and flawless skin. She had delicate features but a sharp look about her. She was a beauty, to be certain. "Well, thank you for your time. You've been quite helpful." Said Rathko "So that's it?" Master Chen asked. "Yes. Unless you know of something else that might be helpful in tracking down the owner of that dagger?" Rathko said, and, after a brief pause, he began to turn. "This is about the missing college students?" Chen asked. "What makes you say that?" Chow said. "Will you indulge an old man who likes to tell stories? You may find this one offers something of value." Chen said, stroking his white beard. Rathko looked at his watch, obviously not thrilled by the prospect of listening to what was described as a "story", but he had been trained to never stop a witness or suspect from talking as long as they were rational. You never knew what someone was going to say, and the more a person talked the more that person let his or her guard down. "Sure, let's hear it." Rathko said, sitting back down. Det. Chow followed suit. "When I was a young boy growing up in the Hubei Province of China, I had a job cleaning up a stockroom. I would sometimes eavesdrop on conversations between the merchant and some of the customers. One time I overheard a rumor, which was not meant for a child of my age, concerning a Taoist cult. Actually, it was far from the mainstream of Taoist thought, but, rather, its practitioners perverted some concepts of Taoism for their own use. They were a led by a woman who was called 'Mistress Ling' or, sometimes, the 'Lotus Queen' by her followers. This Mistress Ling was followed by a group of young women who were said to be the most beautiful in the province, if not all of China, and they were called the Lotus Blossom Army. "Ling believed that humanity was not in balance and thus was out of harmony with the Way. She believed that the Yang, that which is light and masculine, dominated in the human world, and that it was incumbent upon her to gather a group of women warriors to explore the ignored realm of Yin. Ling and the Lotus Blossom Army practiced strict discipline and sought to develop the life-force we call chi to the utmost. In addition to the usual approaches such as chi gong, tai chi chuan, nutrition, and traditional medicine, Ling's court followed some quite odd and arcane practices." "What kind of practices?" Rathko said in response to a brief pause by Master Chen. "I feel I must apologize for discussing such matters in mixed company, but I know in this day and age and in this country, it is unreasonable to be shy in discussing such matters with a female professional such as Detective Chow. But I am an old man and set in my ways. "You may be aware that in traditional Taoism, male ejaculate is considered to be among the richest sources of the life energy. Men are encouraged to either abstain from ejaculation or to maintain a sparse schedule of sexual climax so as to avoid weakening their life forces. Mistress Ling, taking this idea to perhaps an absurd and extreme conclusion, came to believe that if semen was consumed in a certain form that that life energy could be transferred from the producer to the consumer. As the story goes, she had her small army of young women seek out strong virile young men and kidnap them. They held these men for periods as long as months. Every day these beautiful girls would bring the men to the edge of climax many times. The men were restrained captives and thus could not 'relieve themselves', and the Lotus girls would prevent them from achieving climax. Then, at a designated day and hour, the ejaculate was 'harvested' and Mistress Ling consumed the largest portion with the rest being split among the Lotus Blossom girls." Chen finished the story. "And how did they go about 'consuming' the ejaculate?" Rathko asked. " Unfortunately, this tale has been told with two very different endings, and the endings have exceedingly different ramifications for the well-being of the young men. In the first variation, the ejaculate is... excuse my vulgarity... drunken straight from the man, so to speak. In the second and far more sinister version, the men are castrated and a soup is made from their testicles - as soups are made with animal testes in my country. The semen cannot be gathered up for later consumption anymore than you can consume a soup once it is poured into the dirt. In other words, the chi dissipates into the world instantaneously when it hits the atmosphere and is no longer in the extremely concentrated form that is sought." Master Chen explained. "So you think this 'Mistress Ling' is the same 'Ling' mentioned on the inscription, and that she became immortal by drinking cum?" Rathko asked without hiding his skepticism. "Probably not. I heard this tale as a boy. That was almost 80 years ago. In the tale, the Mistress Ling was described as being svelte and lovely, but there was one sign of her true age and that was her silver-white hair. I am living testament to the fact that those living in accordance with the Way can live long lives, but this woman would be at least 130 today. Even in the fresh air of the mountains, Taoist Masters rarely live beyond 120, let alone in the far less healthy city environment. I am just an old man telling a story that your case reminded me of. Of course, I am probably not the only one who has heard the story, and, thus, there could be a Mistress Ling imitator - the cult could continue with new members." Chen said. Rathko and Chow looked at each other. The man was wise to be sure. They were both astounded that he had been a boy 80 years ago. That meant that he was nearing 90 today. Rathko would have taken the Master for about 60 years old. The detectives thought maybe the Master was exaggerating his age, but, still, the idea of modern day copy-cat made sense. "Tell me, could Halloween have any significance for this cult?" Chow asked. "No, of course not. Halloween is an entirely Western invention coming from Western religious traditions... Why, may I inquire, do you ask?" Chen responded. Det. Chow paused. She was not certain that she should give the civilian any more information than he already had. Giving out too much information was a risky proposition that sometimes bit police officers in the ass. Rathko had a good intuition about the usefulness of the old man, and, as the senior detective, assumed the risk, breaking the silence. "Luck is a funny thing. Sometimes you can't ever seem to catch a break, but occasionally it rains fricking gold doubloons. We had a couple lucky breaks. For one, we got that dagger out of the bullet-proof vest of an officer who stumbled upon a young Chinese girl in the progress of kidnapping a male college kid. ... The officer's injuries were superficial." Rathko said, adding the latter when he saw the Master's somber reaction. "Anyway, our second lucky break was that the college boy, who had been bound and gagged, overheard the girl's end of a brief phone conversation as she was simultaneously talking on the phone and chloroforming the bound young man. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the girl saying, 'I know it's almost Halloween...' in Chinese. It turns out the guy was a graduate student in the Department of East Asian Languages at Columbia, and was fluent in Chinese. So are you certain that this cult couldn't have developed an affinity for Halloween. Perhaps it is a modern mish-mash, like Tai Chi - Yoga." Rathko said. Chen winced the mention of "Tai Chi - Yoga", a bastardization the Master clearly found painful to comprehend. "It is possible, I suppose. But another significance of Halloween occurs to me..." Chen said. "... and what is that?" Chow asked. "If one wanted to move around the city in masks to disguise one's face, and, possibly with blood on one's clothes, what is the one night a year one could do that without your NYPD compatriots promptly arresting one? I would suggest that if they want to move those men from where they are holding them, alive or... well... they will need to do so Halloween night. That means they will likely do what they have planned early that evening at the latest. I would guess during the 5:00 to 7:00pm timeframe; that is one of the times when the chi tends to be most active." Chen said. Chow and Rathko again exchanged glances. This time the exchange was one of dread. They had less than a week to break this case. Seeing these expressions, Chen spoke up, "You are not looking on the bright side." "Which is?" Chow said. "Detective Chow, you should know as well as anybody. Looking for a secret army of pretty girls is easy. Pretty girls can't do anything that escapes attention. Now, if you had to find a secret army of ugly girls, that would be a challenge." Chen said, referring to the fact that Mandy Chow was quite a fetching woman herself, though presumably slightly older than the Lotus Blossom girls. Det. Chow's expression brightened at the compliment and Det. Rathko's at the thought imparted by the old Master. *** "So I'm told you work in the 26th Precinct?" Mei said in a seductive voice to the black mustachioed man with an out-of-style mid-sized afro, after sliding into the barstool beside him. "Is that right? Now who would be telling you a thing like that?" Lamont Gribbs replied in a cautiously intrigued tone of voice. He sat on a stool, leaning over the bar, and nursing a tumbler of bottom-shelf rum. "My friend, Vinny Carletti." Mei said, dropping the name of a man who was not really a friend, but was an information trafficker occasionally employed by the Lotus Blossom Army. Mei was wearing a tight-fitting strapless black cock-tail dress that had a bustier-like top. "Don't know him." Gribbs said in a tone that did not ring true. "He knows you." Mei said, leaning forward to put her hands on Gribbs' thigh. "Lot of people know me. I'm a damn popular son-of-a-bitch." Gribbs said. "Look... I don't care who you know or don't know. I'm just interested in WHAT you know." Mei said in a whisper into Gribbs' ear. "I know a lot of things." Gribbs said, keeping his eyes facing across the bar as if fixated by the rows of bottles. "The night before last, two patrolmen interrupted a kidnapping in progress. I just need to know who is working the case, and whether you can get your hands on a piece of evidence confiscated by the officers." Mei whispered in the man's ear as she ran her hand down the top of his thigh and then up the inside of the thigh until she unexpectedly bumped into the member that was stiffening down his pant leg. "Ah-ha. You the crazy Chinese bitch they said was absconding with that boy?" Gribbs said. "Nooo. I'm just a curious kitty." Mei said sexily. "Look, miss, I'm just a damn janitor." Gribbs said. "Yes. I know. We both know that janitors go everywhere, and nobody pays much attention to them. What's more, we both know they are an under-appreciated group. I'm offering to show you a little appreciation, and I do know what you like... Daddy." Mei said, for the last word she shifted from a seductive tone to that of a ditzy teenage girl. Mei had done her homework. She spoke with the prostitute that Carletti had told her Gribbs occasionally visited. In one of those odd cases of reality being disjoint with expectations, the seeming man's man was into some odd kinks. This was great news for Mei. If he had been the "meat-and-potatoes" man he appeared to be, she would not have nearly as much potential leverage, but this particular bit of freakishness made the janitor particularly vulnerable. Mei didn't know whether Gribbs had ever done anything illegal, but his penchant for role-playing with age / incest provided a great deal of blackmail potential -given the fact that Mei's petite unblemished body, while that of a full grown woman, would pass on camera for pubescent. "I know I can't get you any evidence related to that case, but I can find out who's investigating and I do know something that might be of interest. What kind of appreciation are we talking?" Gribbs said. "The kind you will find very... very... pleasurable." Mei said progressively leaning in closer and punctuating her comment by lightly biting on Gribbs' earlobe. "Where you want to do this?" Gribbs asked. "I have a room, 421, just down the street in the Heritage. Come over in about 15 minutes. I'll be waiting." Mei said, covertly sliding a key card under his hand as she moved to put her hand on his. Mei didn't go straight back to the room for fear of being ambushed. Instead, she took up a position in a supply closet down the hall with the door slightly ajar. This way she could make sure that Gribbs didn't bring any friends, cop or otherwise, with him. Gribbs ordered a refill on his rum, figuring it would take about the requisite 15 minutes to drink it down. There was a bit of an alarm sounding in Gribbs' brain, but he'd had too much to drink and was just too damn horny to be responsive to it. If he hadn't been drinking, he probably would have erred on the side of discretion. But, instead, he cleared his tab, and weaved his way out the increasingly crowded bar. Lotus Queen, or Sex and Kungfu Ch. 03 The autumn evening air was comfortably cool as he walked in the direction of the hotel. The city smelled better in the fall. A siren screamed through the night without attracting the slightest bit of conscious notice from Gribbs. Gribbs wondered if he would get any challenging glances as he walked through the lobby of the trendy upscale hotel. He almost wished someone would. He felt the smooth plastic card in his pocket and was prepared to pull it out in response to any jack-ass that presumed to argue about whether he was in the right place. It turned out to be a gestalt of expectations, as no one seemed to give him the slightest bit of notice. Getting off on the fourth floor, it took him a moment to figure out which way the signs were directing him for 421. Standing before the door of room 421, Gribbs raised his hand, as though he were about to knock, but then decided to just let himself in. Mei watched. She realized that he probably opted to let himself in out of his own sense of cautiousness. If one is going to be ambushed, the more surprise one can grab the better. It was a reminder to her to not underestimate the man. What he might lack in sophistication and education, he could make up for in instinct and ferocity. Once she was certain Gribbs was alone and not followed, she immediately followed him into the room. She didn't want to leave him alone too long because he might either suspect a trap or snoop around and stumble onto the small motion activated cameras that she had cleverly hidden in a few places throughout the room. Gribbs entered the room, and, upon seeing no one, began to call out, "Hello." He was just turning to exit when Mei slipped into the room. "Sorry, I ran into an old freind." Mei said not concerned to take too much time with what they would both know as a fabrication. "OK." Gribbs said in his deep gravely voice. "Have a seat. Do you mind if I get into something more comfortable?" Mei asked. "Go right ahead. I'm all about comfort." Gribbs replied, to Mei's relief, sitting down in a chair Mei had carefully positioned a camera to capture. Mei ducked into the bathroom, and ditched the little dress with the strapless bustier corset top that was designed to create the illusion of cleavage for the girl who had only a couple smallish pointy mounds of tit. Standing topless in panties before the mirror, she quickly put her hair up in pigtails. She wiped off the ruby red lipstick, and replaced it with a clear gloss. She kicked off her heels, removed her stockings, and dropped her panties down around her ankles. Then she grabbed a soft loose-fitting cotton nightie and put it on over her head. It really was the kind that was made for comfort rather than sex appeal, and it was intended to create a certain effect. However, looking at herself in the mirror, she hoped she wasn't overdoing the little girl motif. She didn't know whether Gribbs had a dividing line below which the fantasy went from hot to creepy, and, if so, what that age was. She thus aimed for the ambiguously post-pubescent teen-aged girl the prostitute had described role-playing for him. She didn't want to be so blatant that she spooked him into recognizing the trap, but she wanted anyone viewing the tape to conclude Gribbs was a pedophile. Mei came out moving and acting in a manner that reflected shyness and a youthful lack of confidence. It was an act that she could change on a whim. As she approached Gribbs, she was conscious of the camera angles. Her objective was to prevent obscuring Gribbs' face while keeping hers hidden such that she could use as much of the footage as possible if necessary without identifying her. "What do you want me to do for you, daddy?" Mei asked in a bashful manner with her head hung low so the pigtails drooped forward. "I want you to sit right down in your old man's lap." Gribbs replied, uncrossing his legs by taking his foot off his knee, and letting his knees splay out. Mei sat on the man's lap and almost immediately could feel the stirrings of his growth beneath her. It was as if she had sat down on a thick snake under a thin blanket, and it was trying to crawl under her. Gribbs pulled her back gently so that she lay reclined against him with her head on this shoulder. It looked like a paternal enough behavior until the man began to run his rough calloused hands over the soft nightie, which conformed smoothly to Mei's youthful figure. Gribbs let his fingertips linger over the pert little tits of the Chinese girl. Mei opted to neither respond enthusiastically nor to play the role as dead-eyed and traumatized. Instead she squirmed a bit as if she was experiencing unfamiliar feelings and was being tickled. Gribbs spoke into Mei's ear in a raspy whisper, "Are you going to be a good girl, and make daddy feel real nice?" The smell of rum reeked on his breath. "Yes, daddy." Mei played along, though she let her head loll away from his ear rather than toward it so that her face would not be in view on the video. "That's a good girl." Gribbs said. With one hand over Mei's chest, Gribbs let the other hand slowly work its way lower and lower until it was over her pubic triangle. Without lifting the nightie, he slowly lightly rubbed her sex through the thin fabric. "Does that feel good?" Gribbs asked. "It tickles." Mei said, but then, concerned that she might be playing it too young, added, "but it's nice." Gribbs began to inch the hem of the nightie gradually up with his fingers until Mei's pussy was uncloaked. Her sex was completely clean-shaven, and Mei wondered if this would be appealing or unappealing with respect to Gribbs' fantasy. Gribbs' long brown fingers, with their deep knuckle creases and many small scars from a life of manual labor, began to probe slowly between Mei's smooth labia. Mei wriggled a little bit, partially acting and partially succumbing to the sensations. The Chinese girl had begun to experience the flow of arousal, and it increased with the direct stimulation. Gribbs was methodical and unrushed. While, in some sense, he was moving quickly, his physical actions were slow and restrained as if he were savoring every sensation. "You're suffocating daddy's cock. We need to let him free." Gribbs said raising his hips up to press his restrained erection into Mei's little round backside. Gribbs sat up, and was easily able to lift Mei's petite frame off of him. Mei tried, somewhat successfully, to subtly maneuver so that Gribbs' face and cock would both be in the frame. It was important that she not be too obvious and risk attracting suspicion. Mei then awaited instruction. She wanted it to be clear on the tape that Gribbs was calling the shots rather than Mei appearing to seduce the older man in a Lolita-esque fashion. "Do you want to see it?" Gribbs asked. "I guess so." Mei said shyly. Taking Mei's hands and pulling them toward his crotch so that she was forced to take a step toward him, Gribbs said, "Well take it out, and play with it a little." Given the height difference, Mei did not have to lean over to unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip Gribbs' pants. She worked slowly, as if she were a little nervous and uncertain. Given its stiffness, it took some effort to wrestle the meaty cock out of Gribbs' tightie-whitie briefs. The beefy uncut cock was stiff but sagged under its own weight. "Stroke it." Gribbs said, taking Mei's tiny white hand in his long-fingered brown hand and curling his hand to force the Chinese girl's hand to partially encircle his meat. He moved his hand a few times over hers as if to show her the way to pleasure a man. Then he removed his hand and watched the petite girl tug at his manhood. "Have you ever seen one this big?" Gribbs said. "No." Mei said. She was lying, but it was not a lie by much. Mei had seen a lot of a cock in her 23 years of life, and had seen one, may be two, that were as large or larger than that of Gribbs. Gribbs ran his hand over Mei's head. His massive hand seemed like it could easily palm her skull. Then he took a silky jet-back stalk of pigtail in each hand and pulled her face in the direction of his crotch. Mei went to her knees. "Now I'm going to let you put your mouth on it, and suck it like a lollipop." Gribbs said. Mei put the head of the cock in her mouth. It tasted salty and smelled musky, as was expected from a manual laborer whose work day had probably begun about 16 hours earlier. Still it was not the dirtiest nor the least tasty cock she'd ever had in her mouth. She began to suck as Gribbs slowly thrusted into her mouth. Mei's lips were stretched to a perfect "O" by the penetrating organ. "Yeah, that's it, baby girl. You're doing good." Gribbs said, as he gradually began to give Mei more and more of a mouthful. The man's big hands nearly touched at the fingertips and thumb tips as he wrapped his hands around Mei's head to pull her face down onto his shaft. He sped up his thrusts, and did not let the girl pull her head back in retreat. Mei played it up, gagging, gasping, and getting teary-eyed, but it was all an act. It was not that her throat wasn't being breached, but that she had a great deal of experience with rough sex and could have coped with the violating organ easily - if that had been what was called for. However, what was called for in this session was for her to play the inexperienced little girl who didn't know how to take all the cock that the big strapping man was giving her. She did just that. When Gribbs was ready for a break, he took his hands off and there were two clearly defined reddened thumb prints in the alabaster skin of Mei's forehead. He took those meaty thumbs and used them to squeegee the tears off the girl's cheek. "That was real good, but I'm afraid this next part is really going to hurt." Gribbs said. Gribbs sat down reclining back into the chair. His slobber-coated cock was still completely rigid. He ushered Mei to sit on his thighs and then helped lift her up so she could squat down over his member. The meat filled Mei's vagina, kept tight -despite frequent fucking- through daily exercises, and she could feel the uncut head press into her cervix as it approached, but did not reach, its maximum depth. Mei made convincing sounds of pain as though her virginal womb were being torn asunder. Many men seemed to be into fucking inexperienced girls, and so Mei got lots of opportunity to practice her withering virgin expressions and squeals. After a quarter of an hour of being ridden by Mei, Gribbs stood up still inside the girl and carried her the short distance to the bed. He lay her down on the bed and continued to breach her in the missionary position. The large black man loomed large over the tiny Chinese girl as he kept thrusting into her as deeply as her body was capable of receiving. "Do you want to try my snake in your butt?" Gribbs asked. Mei decided to play the game she thought Gribbs wanted to play, and it happened to involve telling the truth. "No, daddy, it's too big." "Well, sometimes we have to do things that hurt. You've got to learn to please a man." Gribbs said, still thrusting away. Gribbs climbed off the slight girl, and manhandled her over onto her stomach. He then put his hands around her waist and lifted her hips back toward him so that she was in an infantile ass-up position. Gribbs put his cockhead against Mei's puckered little bunghole, and, with only the girl's own slippery sauce as lube, pushed his hips forward while pulling the girl back into him with great effort. The sphincter at first resisted his efforts, but then yielded with a pop as the first four inches of Gribbs' bulky manhood shot into her at once. This time, there was no need for acting. The big thick unit that impaled her now was causing Mei great pain as it was seemingly forced and crammed deeper into her backside. The agonized facial expression and bestial moans and cries were not an act. Perhaps Gribbs sensed the genuine nature of Mei's discomfort. If so, it seemed to turn him on because it was only a few strokes before his veiny black monster began to throb as he spurted his cum into Mei's rectum. Maybe it was just that the bunghole had been so tight. Whatever it was, Gribbs produced an astounding load of his thick, almost gelatinous, jizm, and then rolled over onto his side spent. Mei stretched back out laying on her stomach. She remembered a Kungfu teacher who had made her and the other students punch each other repetitively in the gut to toughen up. Her lower abdomen felt similar now to what it did after those sessions, but this time the bruising was from the inside out rather than the outside inward. She felt dirty as she got up and a slug of Gribb's seed crawled down her inner thigh. "OK, I fulfilled my part of the bargain, now it's time for you to talk." Mei said pulling the tight hair bungees out that had held her hair in pigtails and letting the silken black locks fall naturally down her back. "Fair enough. You sure are a good lay, and quite an actress." Gribbs said, and then got to business. "The reason I said I couldn't get the evidence is that the whole case file was transferred down to 5th Precinct. Apparently, they recognized the similarities between the case of the kid from Columbia the other night and earlier kidnappings, and, since the first few abductions were in the Chinatown area, they already had a file started. I know someone down at 5th who works nights, if I can get in touch with him I'll let you know who the detectives are." Gribbs fished a cell phone out of the pockets of the pants that were unbuckled and unzipped, but were still around his thighs. He scrolled through to find a number from among his contacts. "Hey, Bishop, how are things going man?" Gribbs said into the phone. Mei could easily follow the conversation though she could only hear one side of the conversation and the occasional boisterous laughter coming through the cell phone. "Oh, you know, work is work... Hey, some of the guys were talking about that freaky case of the little Chinese girl kidnapping that boy up here." Gribbs said. "Yeah, that's the one." Gribbs continued. "Someone was asking about who's working the case now." "Ed Rathko and Mandy Chow. Mandy?" Gribbs repeated what he was told in confirmation. "Oh, for 'Amanda'..." Gribbs confirmed. Mei picked up a piece of hotel stationary and scrawled in big block letters, "Evidence: Dagger?" She held it up for Gribbs to see. "Say, man, they confiscated a dagger..." Gribbs began. "Yeah, the one they took out of the cops vest..." Gribbs said, and looked to Mei for confirmation. Mei nodded her head in the affirmative to indicate that it was, indeed, the right dagger. "I guess that's in evidence storage?" Gribbs asked. "I know it's a weird damn question, it's a weird dam case." Gribbs said putting the guy on the defensive expertly. Gribbs had balls; you had to give him that. "That's also weird; normally they don't check evidence out like that, do they?" Gribbs asked. "You put any money on that Giants game?" Gribbs restored the conversation to friendly topics briefly before signing off. "OK, catch you later." Gribbs signed off. Speaking now to Mei, Gribbs said, "Awright, the case is being worked by Detectives Ed Rathko and Amanda Chow. She goes by Mandy. Last my man heard, Rathko checked the dagger out of evidence to show it around to antique dealers in Chinatown. He doesn't know where it is now. Is that it? Are we even-steven?" Gribbs asked. He prided himself on paying up on his debts. "There is just one more thing. This never happened. I never talked to you. If you keep that in mind, yeah, we are even-steven." Mei said. "You think I want anyone to know about this? Shoot." Gribbs said tucking in his shirt and securing his pants. Mei would send him a snippet of video later to make sure he knew the consequences of running his mouth, but she was fairly confident he wouldn't. She could find out what she needed to know about the detectives easily enough from her network of contacts.