Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10804443.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Fiction_-_Fandom, Suspense/Thriller_-_Fandom, Original
      characters_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Damon_/Frost_(?), Damon_and_Blu_(friendship), Damon_and_Roze_(work
      relationship), Damon_/omc_(non-con)
  Character:
      Damon, Davis, Simon, Simone, Summer_-_Character, Roze, Blaze_-_Character,
      Jamaica_-_Character, Lunar_-_Character, Frost, Blu_-_Character, Joann
  Additional Tags:
      Military_Training, Rough_Sex, Martial_Arts_Training, Intelligence
      training, Past_Child_Abuse, past_child_sexual_abuse, Non-Consensual_Blood
      Drinking, Forced_Orgasm, Non-Consensual_Bondage, Object_Insertion, Object
      Penetration, Torture, Non-consent_confinement, Disfigurement, Starvation,
      Imprisonment
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-22 Chapters: 10/? Words: 27825
****** Death Angel ******
by unifairie
Summary
     Damon, is a killer for hire, emotionless and cold, feelings not a
     necessity in his line of work, nor his life in general. It's all
     about the thrill, on the job or in his pursuit of sexual fulfillment.
     Love is a wasted emotion, but lust is not. Whether on the hunt for
     his next kill or his next fuck, he pursues both equally. The quest
     for the thrill, something to make the blood rush through the veins,
     until it doesn't. Then, push rewind and start over.
***** Hello *****
His frigid blue eyes seemed lit from within, by the rarely visible amber
flecks, as he concentrated on the door lock which was a little more complicated
than usual and taking up more of his precious time than he would normally have
spared, with the only real source of light to illuminate the inky blackness
being the moon. Few were aware of those rare amber flecks, since their only
appearances were at moments of an adrenaline-high rush, as he had now, when he
was fulfilling an assignment, or at the height of a passionate encounter of the
sexual kind. Most others avoided those beautiful eyes of death, for fear they'd
freeze to death in their icy glare.
Finally...the soft click let him know it was his. Opening the door immediately
was only an exercise in stupidity; never part of his mentality. He had surveyed
the property beforehand and was well-aware of the security system in place, and
how to get past it. The two security gaurds, hidden in the bushes had been
unfortunate casualties, the only ones he couldn't avoid, dispatched rather
easily, necks snapped in under a second, without their ever being aware he was
near. The illuminating lights had gone out seconds later due to two quick pings
from mini stars, through the glass covers and bulbs in one flick of the wrist.
Thus, his work by moonlight, which was not a hindrance for him.
He slid the laser light from his pocket, running it along the seam of the door,
finding and memorizing the contact points, and with the small demagnetising
tool he'd invented himself, the door alarm was deactivated. Peice of cake, he
thought, opening the door and sliding inside, his lean wiry body flat in the
doorframe, as he closed the door, softly, body easing slowly to the floor. His
frame held no unnecessary fat, a perfect machine for stealth and death. In a
quick movement, he was flat on the floor, shooting across it like a snake,
reaching the next wall almost instantly. He was fast, feeling no need to waste
time. He had a job to do. He rose from the floor at the wall, knowing this type
of security system well, though the owner thought it highly sophisticated, a
system of invisible lasers that were crosshatching only this room. That was
idiotic on their part, thinking it an inpenetrable safegaurd, in combination
with the door and the highly trained gaurds. Damon had gained entrance in a
matter of minutes; but, of course, he was a special case. And, since he knew
that was the end of the security, except for the cameras, something else he
scoffed at, he quickly slithered up the stairs.
His target should be in the Master, alone if he was lucky; if not, oh well,
another casualty. Such was the job. He couldn't afford to get sentimental about
it. Everybody had to die sometime, and death was his business. He walked past
the first rooms, sure of his destination, stopping in front of a door,
listening for a moment. A smile. Asleep and alone. One, two, three, open door.
And he stepped inside.
The large man lay on the bed, in only his boxer shorts, feeling safe and
secure. To Damon, he was disgusting, pale bloated body of a beached whale, lots
of wirey gray-peppered hair on the body and head, rubbery blubber lips that
should have been surgically sewn shut long ago to stop his gluttony; his
appearance matching his deeds, This peice of worthless filth, who dealt in the
sale of children into sexual slavery, for other deviant peices of trash out
there, with more money than brains, to use up and discard the innocents sold
into their cruel care, so they could just buy another one. He would have taken
this one out for free, but fortunately he got paid well to get rid of the human
waste.
This pig called for a little special treatment. He only wished he had the time
for a slower death, but would just make sure it was painful and gory, and the
bastard was aware of his imminent demise, before he went. He brought out the
razor sharp blade, its metal a deadly glint in the dim light provided by the
night orb. It only moved three times, in deadly and rapid succession, to bathe
the scene in blood red, that looked black in the moon' rays, filtering through
the window. The man awoke for only the few seconds it took to realize his
death, seeing it in the moment, reflected on the blade, before it disappeared.
The blade slashed across the throat first, sending up an arterial spray, that
fountained down over the startled face, fat hands grabbing at the mortal wound,
in an attempt to save himself; not even a possibility. The blade's next target
was the fat gut it slid into, and ripped across. Things not meant to be seen,
made a sudden appearance, along with more blood. Then, the blade took it's
final move, plunging into one dark sadistic eye, full of panic, now, and down
into the brain. Instant death, far too good for this obnoxious poisoned slab of
meat.
Damon was glad his outfit was black, his chosen color for work, black
turtleneck and black jeans. Black hid stains well. He wiped the bloody blade
off on the bed linen and slid it back into it's sheath. He'd clean it
articulately later. He gave a cold smile, exiting the room, not bothering with
the alarm system on the way out, letting it blare, confident he would not be
caught, not even the image of his face on the security cameras. He knew his job
and performed it perfectly. Another piece of shit had been sent to hell,
courtesy of the Damon express, or the 'Death Angel' express; referring to his
nickname, given to him by the shadowy government people he worked for, but not
how he referred to himself.
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Damon finished his shower, scrubbed his body with the towel, then fastened it
around his waist. He decided to forego a shave, the stubble actually looked
good on him, he knew, not that he didn't look good smooth, as well. Damon
wasn't a shy man, though he was quiet, not a man to waste words. And, words
weren't really necessay, when a man looked the way Damon did. He wasn't the
obvious tall muscled hunk, but he was definitely a man, nothing feminine about
his looks, hard and chiseled everywhere, including his face, but super
streamlined, lean muscles and surprisingly soft skin over them. His lovers
often commented on that, after a rough bout of sex; of how such a wild animal
could have such softness.
Damon would often gave a hint of a smile at such words, a smile that ended the
conversation, so frighteningly cold. Lovers often felt fear from that smile,
unsure of their safety in the presence of this wolf, whose vibrant blues held
an inate intelligence, reading them far better than they wanted to be read,
seeing their souls, uncovering deep hidden secrets. Yes, Damon frightened his
lovers, but they would have been back for more, if it had been allowed. Damon
didn't allow. Sex, for him was a war; rough and painful, filled with bruises
and blood, but deeply satisfying. So, it was no wonder, his lovers wanted more.
But, Damon never took a lover to his bed more than once. Relationships weren't
for him. It was only about the sex, and the release he needed, and the manner
in which he needed it.
Damon got dressed for the hunt, the traditional black leather of the pants and
jacket, with the chest bare beneath, the beautifully sculpted and hollowed body
underneath the confining shell, ready to entice and lure, streaks of gold
lightly dusted the soft brunette curls, brushing elegant shoulders slightly.
His full lower lip had pressed into the thinner upper, in a moment of
contemplation. Those lips caused many a fantasy, and Damon was capable of
making them all come true. Any lover would attest, that his kisses were
heavenly, those lips put to exquisite use. Damon had perfected the art of the
kiss, but his lips and mouth were made for driving his lovers mad with desire,
as those pearly whites, added to the painful ecstacy. Multiple orgasms were a
requirement, for the night of hot sinful pleasure and memories to last
lifetimes, making groins and crotches damp with the thought of him months
later, and the yearning for his touches, an obsession which could only be had
in the memory.
Damon gave himself a last glance in the mirror, fully satisfied. He knew how
good he looked, and there was not a doubt he would not be alone tonight. But,
he just had to find what he was looking for, the right lover, built to take
what he dealt out, someone needing the violence of the erotic dance as he did,
someone hard and hungry as him, with endurance, gender unimportant, only the
hunger that matched his. The soft click of the lock, and the slightly louder
ones, of his boot heels on the shiny hardwood floor, as the door closed, before
he slipped out into the night, ready to burn off some adrenaline, built up from
his previous night's kill, before he allowed himself to be consumed by the
passionate flames of the erotic and exotic dance.
♧♧♧♧♧ ♧♧♧♧♧ ♧♧♧♧♧ ♧♧♧♧♧
Damon woke slowly, sleep having been a minimum, after his wild night. The phone
was buzzing, but he let it, knowing it was Davis, his bossman so to speak, the
shadowy man in charge of his 'assignments'. The man could wait a minute. He
took the time to wake up fully first. He had only gotten back to his own lair a
couple of hours before the phone rang, having taken his fling for the night to
a different room at a seedy motel for their romp. He never took one where he
would actually lay his head. Pleasure never mixed with reality, or the job.
This hotel suite was temporary too, and he would be moving on in a few days,
never one to overstay his welcome, nor one to give anyone a possible chance to
track him down.
There was a lot of super intelligence in his working arena, and friends could
be the enemy at any time. His bank accounts were also works of art. The instant
his payments were deposited into his account, they would disappear, cash later
being deposited into a secret account in another bank far away under another
name. Even the secret agency he worked for would never find his funds. He knew
they had tried, and it amused him. His friend, one of the few, as his trust
issues prevented friendships. But, he and Blu went way back, to a life in a
childhood neither wanted to remember, but where a soul bond had been formed.
They were willing to give over their lives for each other.
Blu's name was a joke to anyone that knew him, his shocking red mohawk the
first thing you noticed about the guy, the second being the biggest whitest
smile of teeth known to man, only slightly whiter than his skin. The man didn't
tan, sun turned him into a cherry, cooked well past done. Fortunately, he spent
most of his time in the night, because he always wore white tank tops, even in
the dead of winter, never a coat or jacket. He practically disappeared in the
damn things, along with camo cargo pants, with pockets filled with gadgets he
could use for anything, and one joint attached to the blunt clip fastened to
the small nipple ring on his chest, under the tank, and within easy reach.
Blu was flamboyant in dress and actions, tall and lanky, with wild tie-die
sneakers that he always wore, self decorated and enhanced. And, a super
intelligent brain he didn't let many know he had. From that description, you
would have pictured a geeky unattractive man, and would have been wrong. Blu
had an amazingly attractive face, and the elegant grace of a gazelle. Blu had
introduced Damon to sex at the tender age of twelve years, via his first blow
job. And, the boy was an expert, blowing a naive kid's brains out. It never
happened again, but it was a present from the redhead, an introduction to
manhood, he said, to his heart, how he referred to Damon. It was love in it's
purest form, the best he could offer. Damon accepted it as the gift it was,
blocking out how the boy had gotten such experience at such a tender age, and
the fact his friend had been turned out on the streets at the age of six by his
uncle who had taught him the fine arts of sex with practice on himself, so his
sweet lips could perform such arts that would pay the bills for the tiny one
room dump they lived in. Blu told him it was the only time he had ever looked
forward to sucking a cock. And, after his nightmare childhood, Blu had turned
out strait, loving the ladies more than he loved ice cream, and boy did Blu
love ice cream. He could have eaten it for every meal and never gotten tired of
it. It was just one of the quirks in his friend that Damon found amusing.
Blu didn't have much of an education, all self taught intelligence soaked up by
that sponge of a brain. He earned a living building computer programs, making a
fortune, and never even used a forth of that brainpower to do it. He had set up
Damon's checking account system, as well as his secret identities, and other
things that kept Damon's life running smoothly. And, the government had never
found this diamond, to get it's grubby hands on. Damon was the only one who
knew everything about Blu, other than the persona he put out to the rest of the
world. Damon had been the assassin to end Blu's uncles miserable life, his
present to the man who'd introduced him to manhood, the death being a long
overdue repayment of that gift.
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Blaze gave a secret smile, at her bosse's curses. She knew he had just ended a
conversation with one of his agents, and it didn't take three guesses to know
which one it was. Only Damon could piss him off like that. But, Davis used him
so often because he was also the best. Blaze was only one of Davis'
researchers, he had several, and they all researched in specific areas of
expertise. Blaze worked in the tech arena, finding the criminals to be taken
out of the world of computers and the technologies of secret intelligence, in
other words their competition. It was a little shady area, but it didn't
concern her. She was in it for the paycheck, which was mighty healthy to say
the least.
The tiny brunette was a beautiful hummingbird of activity, as her fingers
flitted over the computer keys, in search of nuggets of information she needed
to produce her latest admission for Davis, her thick hair pulled into a high
ponytail, fluttering down her back as her head and eyes moved with the computer
screen's words as well as bobbing to the beat of the song in the earbuds
connected to an ipod, where the rich tones of a Cyndi Lauper classic, 'She
Bop', threatened to destroy her eardrums. She could easily multi-task, lifting
up a McDonald's giant size soda for a quick slurp, as her fingers continued to
fly on the keyboard, and the ponytail fluttered. And her little toes tapped a
rhythem in spike-healed short boots under her desk. She wanted to finish the
report before she left. It was Friday, and she didn't want this shit messing
with her weekend. A final swipe over the keyboards, and her finger hit print,
with a grin. She plucked the smart looking reading glasses off her pert little
nose, shoved them into the eyeglass sleeve and dropped them into her suitcase
of a bag beside her chair, listening to the printer run off the sheets of her
report for her admission to Davis. The earbuds and ipod dropped into the bag
too. The office cleaners could take care of the soda container. She pulled a
stick of juicyfruit from the pack of gum on her desk and popped it in her
mouth, letting it's sweetness fill her mouth as she chewed, reaching for one
last swig of soda before she would abandon it. Fifteen minutes later, the tiny
brunette was stepping through the revolving doors out onto the street, her
admission folder on Davis' desk. She walked the six blocks to the underground
parking lot, showed her id to the valet, and soon had her sky blue mercedes
delivered to her side. The valet smiled as he handed her the keys, trying to
flirt. She ignored his effort, not worth her time and not in her class, even if
he was cute.
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Davis had watched the swing of the tiny brunette's hips as she left his office,
wishing he could say he was intimately familiar with them, but he was well
aware she would never give him that chance. It was hard to beleive such a brain
was packaged so beautifully. But, the females he was surrounded by were all
attractive and intelligent, as were all of his agents, and he felt a rise in
his blood pressure thinking about his latest hottest conversation with his
number one, Damon, the deadliest assassin in the bunch. He had an assignment
for the 'Death Angel', but it required more than one agent, needing a three-
person team to complete. And, his boy had said no. Damon only worked with one
of the other agent's, Roze; said she was the only one he'd trust his back with.
And, he never did a job that required more than two, too many chances to fuck
up, he said, and Damon didn't tolerate fuck-ups. And, when he had reminded
Damon that he worked for him, and that he was the boss, Damon had come back
with a quick retort to remind him that he didn't have to work for him, which
was a truth Davis couldn't deny. All of Davis' agents were temperamental little
porcupines, but Damon was the only one that gave him ulcers. So, he chewed on
antacid tablets as he called in Lunar to work with the twins, Simon and Simone
on this assignment. He knew Roze wouldn't do it. She worked solitary or
occasionally with Damon, being almost as paranoid as his top agent. So much for
having a good day, he thought.
***** One, Two, Are You Blu? *****
"Can I ask you a question?" Roze glanced at Damon. They were sitting at a bar,
having a couple drinks, though they were on high alert, waiting for their
targets. But, they were actually drinking. Roze wasn't one to turn down a
drink, even when on the job. She would have preferred a beer though, her drink
of choice. But, she had to be more sophisticated tonight, playing a part in a
drama that was life and death; so she was sipping at her 'Manhatten' in a
ladylike manner. Damon, on the other hand, looked quite at home with his
Bourbon, and quite sophisticated as well. Roze was probably the only person in
his vacinity that knew just how high his adrenaline was right now, as hers was
right up there with his.
"Ask away. No gaurantee on an answer." Damon allowed.
"Nothing personal, or at least not really." Roze was a bit vague. "Just wanted
to ask about Blu, a friend of yours, he said. As I really don't know much about
your personal life, needed to know if he was just shittin' me. He asked me out,
a date... Curious..."
"Want me to tell you if you should say yes?"
"No. I'm capable of making that decision myself, thank you. Just tell me if you
fucked him. I don't want your leftovers." Roze quipped. "And, also tell me how
he knows me." Roze was suddenly serious. She didn't want people to know who she
was, keeping her private life separate from her job. And, this was cutting too
close.
"If I had fucked him, he wouldn't have known me." Damon smiled. "He just saw us
together once. He doesn't know you, just thought you looked good. No, we
haven't talked. I just know him, and he knows me. He has good taste." Damon
threw out the compliment, casually, surprising Roze.
"If I'm all that much, why haven't you seen me?" Roze was curious.
"I've seen you, just not my type. Didn't want to hurt you."
"You think you could?" Roze sniffed, a little offended.
"I meant sex, Roze. I'm not easy, and I don't do friends. Too awkward for the
after. And, I want to keep you, not discard you...Our targets..." Damon ended
the conversation, concentration on the men that had just entered the bar.
Anyone looking at the group would have backed off, knowing these men were
dangerous. But, nobody would have suspected the elegant couple at the bar was
far more dangerous than the whole group combined. They would never know either.
The pair kept their identities hidden from all but their targets; and the dead
told no tales.
Damon could have taken them all out easily, but this was a case of needing to
make a statement, so he needed a second for an assist. It wouldn't be easy to
make this statement and maintain their covers, but that only upped the thrill
for Damon. For Roze, it was just another kill, no matter the difficulty.
A half hour later, they had exited the bar, meandering out like a couple
heading home for the night, and nobody could see the blood on Roze's spiked
heel, the same spike she'd driven through the skull of one of those jackasses.
It had taken a bit of time to lure all the men to the bathroom, and she had
lost patience with the last one, that wanted to feel her up outside the door.
So, she'd slipped out of a shoe, slamming it home into his brain as she shoved
him through the door. Prick was just plain rude, not gentleman enough to wait
to grab her ass until he was inside the toilet. She had helped Damon drag him
into the forth stall, dragging his pants down and positioning him on the
toilet, just like the other three had been positioned earlier.
The statement had been made. The fools had been caught with their pants down,
so to say. Their buddies might think about this shit in the future. Damon and
Roze had just taken out four members of the Della Base drug empire, four of
their enforcers. That should set them back a few months, or longer. This was
just the beginning. There were quite a few more to take out before Damon
delivered the coup de grace, taking the head of the empire, quite literally,
something he was really looking forward to.
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It had been three weeks since the start of the takedown of the Della Base
Empire, and tonight was the night that Damon was to finish it. Della Base's
head had upped the security for himself, feeling the need with so many of his
underlings being taken out. The man feared for his life, with good reason. He'd
practically gone into hiding, after sending his family away to safety, also a
smart move on his part, family members often became casualties. But, the man
thinking he could hide from his killer, that was stupid... when the killer was
the Death Angel. Damon had never failed a kill yet. He was just too good. And,
the fact this one was so much more challanging had upped the thrill for him. He
might have to go out for a fuck when he finished, to burn himself down, his
adrenalin was on overload.
The security gaurds weren't much of a problem, really. There were a lot of
them, but they were new to the job, and wouldn't be as efficient. The number
was an added risk, but their freshness was a break. Damon almost felt sorry he
had to take them out, since they couldn't put up any more of a challange than
just their sheer numbers. Taking them out wouldn't be as quiet as he liked
either. Thank god his target had helped him out in that department by finding
an isolated hideout. The asshole would be forewarned he was there, couldn't
really help that, but it wouldn't be enough to save his worthless life. Damon
would get him. He felt a grin at the thought of them coming face to face. He
really did like to see the fear in their eyes when they knew they were going to
die and they could do nothing about it. These arrogant pricks thought they were
invincible, until death actually knocked on their doors, and they realized they
were a human animal after all.
Damon slid through the darkness like a shadow. He had left the car a couple
miles away, traveling on foot through the woods, until he was close to his
destination. He skirted around the property, finding all it's faults, it's
weaknesses, and there were many for someone of his caliber. He felt fortunate
that gaurd dogs had not been employed. That would have really been tricky, but
not impossibe. It had actually surprised him that gaurd dogs weren't part of
the mix. The gaurds wre spaced out, instead of clumped together, so he'd have
to take them out one at a time and still work quickly, before they got the idea
of what was going on. He was sure that by the time he finally got to the
target, he'd be aware of him. Hopefully, he'd grow a pair of balls and put up a
fight, and not try to run away. Damon needed a bit of a fight, just to take the
edge off, or he'd have a hard time finding someone he could fuck without doing
serious injury to the person, and that would put a real damper on things. He
knew he wouldn't kill any sex partner he chose, but he didn't want to damage
them either. The sex was supposed to be hard and hot, but a definitely
pleasureable pain. The after was supposed to be a nice ache, to leave them
wanting a repeat performance, not needing a trip to an emergency room. No, he
needed to burn off some of that before he sought out a lover for the night.
Damon circled the exterior of the house, taking out each gaurd as he came to
them, a quick snap of the neck, then dragging the body into the shadows of the
house and the shrubbery. He worked quickly until all twelve were out of the
way. He had taken one of their radios to communicate with the four inside the
house, giving them intermittent, 'bravos', the all clear sign. When he opened
the door, the gaurd was shocked, a coffee cup in hand, headed for his mouth for
a drink, totally relaxed and at ease. He dropped the cup, trying for the gun,
he had tucked in the back of his pants. His hand never reached it. Damon put
two bullets in him in rapid succession, no overkill for him, no reason to waste
the ammo when he knew he was dead, a bullet to the head, and one to the heart.
The man dropped to the floor, his hand settling next to the dropped coffee cup.
Damon heard noises, raised voices and scrambling footsteps. Unfortunately, for
them, he could tell they were all headed toward him. It was just too easy,
picking them off as they came through the door, then shoving them out of the
way, as he went looking for the target.
He was encouraged when the man found him, instead, throwing out a spray of
bullets that had Damon diving for cover, and grinning with glee. The man was
going to fight back, yes! And, he was actually a decent shot. He had barely
missed Damon with his machinegun fire. He was probably a better shot than any
if his gaurds, and not stupid enough for Damon to sneak up on. He was going to
be the fight Damon needed, but the man had to be forced to use all his bullets
first, because Damon knew he wouldn't get into a beatdown with him until he was
out of ammunition. But, he was sure the guy knew what his assassin wanted. He
just wouldn't give it to him until it was a last resort. He didn't want it, but
would go for it if he had to. Damon was going to force it. He played the game
of tag, revealing himself over and over, drawing the wrath of the machine gun,
until it was out of ammo, and the bastard had to resort to his handgun. Damon
played him perfectly, waiting for a moment of exposure, and his bullet slammed
into the man's gun hand, ripping a howl of pain from him, and dislodging the
gun.
Damon rushed out at that point, ready for the fight. The man stood waiting, his
face twisted with pain, but a look of determination as well. He wouldn't go
down easy, his face said, and Damon believed it. He got in a few blows with his
good hand, and Damon knew he'd be feeling them tomorrow, and he received a lot
of the same treatment from Damon, who didn't hold back just because the guy was
handicapped. He knew the guy was a cold-blooded killer, and would have done the
same to him. But, in the end, he lay panting and bleeding on the floor, unable
to fight anymore, Damon having beaten him to the point of a barely conscious
slab of meat. But, Damon felt enough respect for the fight given him that he'd
execute him before he severed the head.
"Thank you..." Damon said to the man, as he pressed the gun to his head and
pulled the trigger.
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Damon hit the strip club, Darling's, tonight. It had strippers of both sexes,
always enjoyable for him. He would watch a few bodies get naked, since they all
stripped completely, and find a customer that would fit the bill for a night of
pain and pleasure. This place usually brought out the type he was looking for.
He had taken a shower and was fresh for the night. His kills were a couple
hours behind him, and he was in the mood, having dropped the bag with the head
of Della Base inside off at Davis' home. Davis would be pissed that he had left
it there instead of at the office, but Damon didn't care. Davis wanted the
head, and he got the damn head. What did he have to complain about?
Damon watched the hot little barely-legal girl as she came off the stage. She
could dance, a provacative little vixen, who seemed to have been dancing just
for him. But, she wasn't what he was interested in, even if she seemed
interested in him. She was pretty, but even her youth didn't keep the knowing
look out of her pretty hazel-green eyes. She was as graceful as a cat, long and
lanky, as she come slinking up to him, her light brown honey-streaked hair,
swaying gently across her back as she moved. She was bold, coming strait up to
him, letting her short flimsy robe hang open, to reveal a black silk thong,
along with a pair of small pert breasts.
"Hey, sugar. Would you like a real personal dance. Gaurantee you'll have a very
happy ending." She cooed.
"Go back to the playpen, little one." Damon rebuffed gently. This one was too
young and not as tough as she liked to act. She still had a soft core,
definitely not ready for the major league yet.
"The name is Jamaica, man, and I can take you on a trip that will relax you
just like a vacation at the beach, sweetheart." She didn't give up.
She was tenacious, he'd give her that, but it was still a firm no. These pretty
little things would give you heartburn if you let them. Best not to get wrapped
up in their bubblegum flavor. And this, Jamaica; probably her real name too,
would be a real tarbaby. No, definitely not.
"Baby, you are just too soft and gooey. I'm looking for something with a bit
more bite. And, you don't want those pretty eyes wet with tears tonight. I'm
too much for you to handle. And, I've been kind to you. Now, please take that
hot little ass away from me, so you don't distract . I'm hunting for a panther,
pussycat, so run along now."
"Jerk!" She hissed at him, like a feral cat, not cooing anymore, turning
around, with a flip of her hair, and swaying away like a breeze.
Damon had to laugh. She was a spirited little thing, but definitely not on his
menu. He was on the hunt for someone wicked and seasoned, someone who enjoyed a
good battle, because if it wasn't painful it wasn't worth it.
A few minutes later his hunt was over when he saw what he was looking for,
another tall and lanky lady, but she was seasoned, and also on the hunt. Their
eyes met, and the smile curved her crimson lips. Yes, she was looking for the
same as he, kindred souls in search of the thrill. He returned her smile, and
she strolled over.
"Hey, Beautiful." She straddled him like a stallion. "Can you fuck hard enough
to make me feel it for days? I don't want to be able to walk when you're done,
understand?" She bent down and took a painful nip from his lips.
He grabbed a fistful of he blond hair, jerking her head back. "I am in charge,
darling. Don't ever forget that." his voice was cool, but he felt the strum of
arousal.
She gave a throaty chuckle. God, he loved that husky sound. It was so sexy. She
stood up, reaching out a hand to him, which he took, letting her pull him to
his feet, and they headed out of the club, headed for a rendezvous with
destiny.
***** Fire and Ice *****
Joann sat at her computer, her fingers still for once, instead of moving over
the keyboard. She was working on a new case file, but not at the moment. At the
moment she was contemplating, giving consideration to her relationship with her
boss, Davis, or her lack of a relationship with him. She wasn't exactly sure
what to call it. They would come together for great sex, beneficial to both,
but it was more than that, but what. She just couldn't define what they had.
They melded together well, and she knew Davis respected her, both as an
employee and as a woman. She appreciated that, knowing he wasn't using her, at
least not any more than she was using him. But, she couldn't give what they had
a name, and that bothered her. So, she sat there, in her head, contemplating,
wondering what she wanted out of her life.
Davis noticed that Joann was sitting at her computer, possibly off in a
daydream, and he smiled. He should have been asking her what her problem was,
if she had hit a roadblock in the case she was working on, and if she needed
any help. But, the only thing he could think about was that maybe she was
thinking about him, and that made him smile. He wanted her to think about him,
to remember their night together, how their bodies came together so perfectly,
his hardness into her softness, they fit together like two puzzle pieces, and
it felt so good.
He remembered how his large hands had cupped her ass, lifting her up as she
opened herself to him, then letting her slide down onto him, enveloping him in
her slick heat, enjoying how she rode him, rocking, sliding up and down his
shaft, her body leaning forward, breasts over his face, so his lips could
capture first one nipple, then another, to nurse at, hearing her sighs of
pleasure. Then, his lips got a little rougher, and his teeth came into play,
nipping a little painfully at those tender nipples, as she bore down on him
harder, her sheath tighter and hotter, as she brought him closer to his finish,
until finally their mouths devoured each others, as they rode out the rush
together, bodies jerking in the pleasure of a shared orgasm, as always. They
were so tuned to each other.
Then, she slid off him, and they lay in each others arms for awhile, her
fingers carding through his sweat dampened salt and pepper, while his fingers
performed the same in her ruby tresses. Her hair was a fit for her passion. She
was a fierce lover, and responded so well to his touch. His hands slowly moved
from her hair over her body, fingers coming to rest between her thighs, that
she opened to him, letting him slide fingers into her slick heat, a passionate
moan, as he worked them in and out of her womanhood; and he slid down her body,
so his mouth could get to that hot slick heat, and she spread her thighs, to
offer herself up like a banquet for him to enjoy.
And, it was a feast for him, tasting himself on and inside her, his tongue
sliding up inside her heat, licking up all the essence she had to offer, over
and over, teeth nibbling at her bud, and kissing and sucking, until her body
quivered all over, then moving his body over hers, pressing his aching member
at the mouth of her womanhood, pressing into her, filling her, her legs
wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper into her slick heat. He rode her
hard, but she didn't mind, her hips bucking up into his, wanting it as much as
he did, until they rode out a second eruption together. Then mouths found each
other tasting each other again, as their bodies shifted, until they lay
entwined, his softening member sliding out of her. And, finally they had slept.
Davis came back to himself, realising his eyes were locked with Joann's. Her
lips curved in a smile, and a remembered heat came into her sky-blue eyes.
Davis knew she had seen the answer in his own warm brown orbs. He watched her
return to her keyboard, fingers moving easily over the keys just as they'd
moved over his skin the night before, sure and steady. He turned away, looking
forward to the next time those fingers would be gliding so steadily over his
skin, making him feel so grateful to be alive, and totally at her mercy, until
she was at his, and pleased that they had each other.
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Damon woke in the early evening hours, streching out aching muscles. He had
aches in places he'd never had them before, had used muscles he hadn't used in
such ways. That girl must have been a damn contortionist, with all the sexual
positions she had him in. And, he had loved it. He was sure he wanted to try
some of them with his next lover. He loved the ache all over from a hard night
of sex. He climbed out of bed and headed for the shower though, needed to get
limbered up, and his special massage showerhead, invented by Blu, was what
would work out the kinks.
The waterfall of pounding water worked miracles, beating his muscles into
submission, working out the stiffness, until his muscles had a nice pleasant
soft ache.Now he was ready for a night out with Blu. They hadn't gotten
together for a night out in a long time, and Damon needed it.
Damon dressed in well worn jeans and a t-shirt, knowing his friend would be
dressed the same, the only time Blu ever got out of his trademark look. Wasn't
like he could blend anyway, with that fiery mohawk, not that he wanted to. His
personality was far too wild to be contained. They'd find someplace to eat,
first, a place they hadn't been to before, then hit some clubs after, for
dancing and drinkimg, finally stumbling in with the dawn, to crash for the day,
parting ways with the next night. They'd keep in touch by phone after, until
they decided on another night out; and they were still tighter friends than
people who saw each other every damn day of their lives. They were each others
lifelines, only death would change that. Damon didn't even check his look in
the mirror, not going to pick up anyone tonight. This was their night, nothing
coming into that zone. He locked the door as he stepped out, heading for their
prearranged meeting place. They'd go from there.
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The music was throbbing and loud, the rhythem, hitting the body like a
pulsating beast. Damon and Blu both felt it, turning to smile at each other.
They could dance to it, but not yet. They headed to the bar for something to
drink, maybe several drinks to heat the blood before they made it to the dance
floor. When they danced, they always became the entertainment, not that they
cared. They lived in their own world and nobody was a part of it. And, they had
sex through the dances all night long. There was nothing like them, and they
turned any club they were in into an inferno of lust- addled patrons by the
time they were finshed dancing. Everyone would head off someplace to fuck,
after a night of watching Damon and Blu dance-fuck all night; and their clothes
never even came off, but they built up the libido of every customer in the bar,
with their erotic, sensual dancing.
Three drinks later, strait whiskey for Damon and something exotic for Blu, they
were on the floor, dancing to a wailing bluesy song, their bodies so tight
against each other, they seemed to be one. As Damon's hips undulated and his
crotch moved between Blu's thighs, grinding hard, it was hard to believe they
weren't really having sex. And, at the end of the dance, they looked blissful,
as they returned to the bar for another drink, waiting for the right song for
another round of fuck -dancing. Their next dance had the positions reversed,
with Blu's hips now undulating, and his crotch pressing between Damon's parted
thighs, fucking him hard. Damon's body jerking with each thrust, his mouth open
and slack, orgasmic.
And, that was how they spent the night, drinking and dancing, ignoring everyone
around them, concentrating on each other. Neither one had gone past their limit
with the drinks, either. Getting drunk wasn't much of a chance for either of
them, as well. Both had been drinking serious liquor from an early age, as a
way to deal with the misery of their lives, a way to cope. By the age of ten,
they'd been able to drink most adults under the table, and walk away laughing
at the stupidity of the 'adults'; serving alcohol to mere children, in an
attempt to take advantage of them. Fucking perverts. They deserved to be ripped
off, which is what the boy's had done, after all the adults had passed out from
drinking, having thought they were going to get to fuck the two children. So
much for wishful thinking. And, the boys would head off, to spend their pockets
full of money they had stolen, without one ounce of guilt.
They also saved some of it, hidden away in a secret place, where neither of
their families would gain access to it; not Blu's perverted uncle who was his
pimp, or Damon's abusive farher, who hid behind a badge, while beating his wife
and son, in his drunken rages, behind closed doors. By the time Blu turned
thirteen, he wasn't useful for sex anymore, to his uncle, and had moved on to
selling drugs, to keep the bills paid on the shack he called his home, though
it wasn't much of one. His uncle now living in a drugged stupor most of the
time, having gotten a heroin addiction, that Blu had to keep supplied.
Neither boy was spending much time at their respective homes, by that age,
acting more like street urchins, with Blu's uncle a drug addict, and Damon's
alcoholic father, who'd lost his job at the police department and had to take a
job as a security gaurd, which certainly didn't improve his temperament, making
him drink even more, making his job security questionable to say the least.
Both boys had lost the interest in school, but not in an education, and spent
several hours of their days in the libraries, learning computers and gaining
knowledge, which their highly intelligent minds absorbed like sponges. And, it
was all free.
By the ages of fifteen, neither boy even pretended to live at home anymore.
They'd make their way to the soup kitchens for one meal a day, hustle the
streets, Blu selling drugs or something else for a quick buck, Damon just
hustling, picking up a modeling gig from an eccentric rich artist that had a
thing for using street kids as models for his paintings, and Damon had become
his muse. He paid outrageously well, and his paintings sold exclusively to the
rich and famous. Damon found it amusing that his likeness was hanging on the
walls of millionaires; he dressed in rags, with a dirt-smudged face, looking
like a fallen angel; posed on the pier, leaning against an old warehouse wall,
or laying on a filthy street, 'sleeping'. The paintings spoke of the heartbreak
of a street kid, a total lie for Damon, who was quite happy with his life with
Blu.
The boys would still find a couple hours in the day to hit the library, free
education and all, before they looked for a place to sleep for the night. There
were abandoned buildings everywhere, which suited them during the summer, and
as long as the weather was tolerable. In the winter, if it got too cold, they
would seek out a shelter for the night, where no questions were asked, and the
ones in charge only cared about providing beds for the night for the needy.
They also learned very well, how to protect themselves, carrying well-concealed
and extremely deadly switchblades, which both were quite proficient with. And,
the street learned to beware of the deadly duo.
The pair had also managed to find a place to lay claim to, where they hid the
money they had managed to save, an unbelievable amount, over one hundred
thousand dollars in bills, buried in a coffin with a false bottom, in a
deserted morgue. The morgue was theirs. The other street people stayed clear of
it, to avoid their wrath. And, the pair, with all their gained knowledge,
scavenging and thievery, had managed to make it liveable. They had custom built
a bed, that they shared, a new queen-size matress provided by Damon's artist
friend, who also provided lots of warm soft blankets and pillows. Blu had
devised a solar and battery energy source, so they had a form of electricity to
use, when needed, as well as putting in a plumbing system, so they had a water
supply and a working toilet. The solar energy powered a heating system for
water for showers, as well as heat from the cold. This was all confined to two
rooms in the decrepit old morgue, that were kept in excellant repair while the
rest of the building fell to ruin around them. Nobody would be aware of it in
the confines of the abandoned building, which was the idea.
But, the life had come to an abrupt end only two short years later, when Damon
had gone on one of his regular visits to see his mother, and accidentally had a
run in with his father. The man was supposed to be working, as he always was
when Damon went to visit his mother, distressed by the new bruises she sported,
relieved she was still alive. On that day his father had come home, having been
fired from his job, and already drunk when he got there. He didn't even
recognise his own son, and began screaming at his wife about her being a slut,
fucking a boy in their home. He wanted a fight, threatening to kill both of
them, and trying to make good on his threat. But, he was just a clumsy drunk,
that Damon laughed at, as his switchblade penetrated, between ribs, puncturing
a lung. Damon casually pulled the blade out, before driving it into his throat,
then into an eye, sparing the other, so the prick could still see himself, but
with only one eye. He could have easily taken him out quickly, but wanted the
bastard to suffer, that's why his stabs had been where they were. He would
bleed to death, but not too quickly.
He sat with his mother, to watch the jackass die. Then, he had to get the hell
out of dodge, so to speak. His mother was going to take the blame, using a
self-defense plea. Damon left her his switchblade, after cleaning his prints
from it. He was sorry to lose the blade, but knew he'd easily be able to get
another. He hugged his mother goodbye, not knowing he'd never see her again,
and headed off to see Blu.
***** Breathing Frost *****
Damon woke, to the setting sun, glancing over at his naked friend beside him,
with a slow smile. He ran a hand down Blu's body, stopping to tug on his limp
cock, playfully, causing the man to open his eyes and smile at him.
"Thank you for the night, brother. It's been a while."
" Whatever you need, man. You know that." Blu husked. "But, I need to get a
shower and hit the street. Things to do, places to be. Catch you in the
aftershade, babe." Blu crawled out of bed, heading for Damon's bath, to take
care of a few things, before he headed out, knowing he'd catch Damon on the
wire sometime soon. That's how they worked.
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Summer was dressed appropriately for a nighttime Sunday service, which was
where she was headed. Her husband opened the car door for her and she slid
across the leather seat, slapping on the seat belt. Never could be too careful.
She was looking forward to the service. Being the wife of a minister suited
her. And, they would soon be blessed with twins, a boy and a girl, to be raised
in the faith. She rubbed her stomach lightly, thinking about the blissful day
to come, though it was some while away. She only had a small bump, to reassure
her of the blessed event to come. And, her husband wasn't some poor preacher
either. He had been born into a wealthy family, and inherited when his parents
had died in an unfortunate accident. By the grace of God, Summer had found out
she was pregnant shortly after, and her husband believed it was his parents
blessing them from the great beyond.
Summer wasn't sure about that, but wasn't one to question the beliefs of
another, especially her husband. He was a good man and a good provider. It was
what she'd always wanted from life and she wouldn't want it to chage. She
smiled at her husband as he put the car in drive. He gave her a warm smile in
return.
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Damon walked into the diner thinking of what he wanted to eat. Maybe just a
cheeseburger. That sounded good. He hadn't had one in a while, and he had a
yearning for something just that simple. He decided to go for it. And, maybe
he'd even order pizza later tonight. He almost laughed, thinking of acting like
a common man again. It actually felt good. He was just so used to being in an
elite class that he had lost track of common enjoyments, except when he went
out with Blu. Well, it was time to get back to that. So, he found a table,
settling in, and ordering his burger when the your waitress came to his table.
The pretty young thing tried to flirt with him, but he didn't invite her in. He
wasn't looking, and if he had been, she would not qualify. Innocent young
things never did. He offered her a polite smile for her trouble, and left a
ridiculous tip, but nothing else.
Damon decided to take a walk around the city, just for the hell of it, and
ended up at a bar about an hour later. He decided to go in, as he knew the
place; it being someplace he'd been before. They had good bluesy music and a
dark smokey atmosphere that Damon liked. He could drink some strong whiskey and
soak in the music for a few hours, before he headed home. It seemed like the
ideal evening for him.
It was about an hour later when he noticed someone watching him. He had drank
about four whiskies by then, and had settled into the music groove, the blues
sinking into his skin. He had been feeling really good until he got the vibe of
the watcher. And, he got irritated, then. He didn't sense any danger, but he
did sense the interest the other man had in him. There was a certain sexual
energy being given off. Damon wasn't feeling it though. He wasn't interested in
hooking up with anyone tonight. On another night the guy could have been his
fling for the night, but not tonight.
Damon gave him a quick once over. Long, lean body encased in tight black
leather, with the crotch laced well around a sizeable bulge. His face was
attractive, with sharp angles, lean and hungry, but the lips were full, a great
cock-sucking mouth. The hair was full and thick, and a rich shiny silver.
Beautiful hair, really.Then, Damon met the eyes, noting that they locked on
his. The man gave him a small smile. His eyes were intense, a beautiful shade
of light grey, with streaks of an amazing blue. Definitely fuckable, on some
other night, but not this one. The guy had the look of what he wanted. He gave
a sniff, turning away, to let the hunter know he wasn't in the mood, waving a
hand to the bartender for another whiskey, letting the music sink back into his
skin.
A minute later Damon felt a hand grip his shoulder, and swung around, pissed at
the interruption. It was the same damn guy, who hadn't gotten the message.
Well, there wasn't going to be anything with the possibility now. "You are a
persistent prick, aren't you?" Damon's voice was low and dangerous.
"Perhaps... Or maybe I just know what I want. My name is Frost. Let's go
somewhere and fuck." The voice was as smooth as silk.
"Why don't you just disappear. You're messing with my vibes. Or better yet, go
fuck yourself." Damon gave a cold smile.
"You and I are destined for each other, and we're headed for a collision. So,
why delay the inevitable. There isn't a single person here that can give you
what I can. I knew you from the moment I saw you, and I know you knew me."
"If you really knew me you would have stayed away. Then, if we had met on
another night, there may have been something. But, after you interrupted my
evening there will never be a night. Now, get the hell away from me before you
get yourself into some deeper shit."
"We'll meet again sweetheart..." Frost grinned, turning and walking away.
Damon was totally pissed now. The guy had wrecked his mood. He decided to
leave, heading home.
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Joann was laying on her stomach, naked, her legs spread wide, her back arched,
ass hiked in the air, her hands clutching the four-poster bed desperately.
Davis was between her wide spread thighs, sliding his thick cock leisurely into
her slick pussy. As he continued to fuck her slowly, she let out a frustrated
moan.
"Please... fuck me, damn you."Joann cried.
Davis slapped her across the ass hard, causing her to let out a little squeal.
"It's my birthday, baby. I get what I want, remember. It's all about me. And,
this is what I like. I like sliding my dick in and out of that slick pussy of
yours for as long as possible. And. The night is just getting started. We have
a lot of fucking left."
"Ohhh... my back is killing me from being arched like this for so long, and my
pussy is getting sore from being fucked for so long. Come on and shoot your
load, already...please..."
Davis slapped her hard across the ass again, continuing at his slow pace.
"Quiet, woman. You belong to me for the night, to use as I please. That's the
deal. I used plenty of lube and your pussy is nice and slick, so stop whining.
You can moan later when I stretch your asshole when I fuck it. And, I intend
for your mouth to get sore from all the blowjobs you're going to give me. So,
get over it. We have a long night of fucking. You have a few days off to get
over it, because I plan to fuck you until you can't walk. You are really going
to make this my best birthday ever. So settle in for the long ride."
***** Frost over Ice *****
Damon adjusted his backpack, so it rode smoothly on his back. It was heavy, but
necessary. He had a long hike up the mountain, and some things he needed for
this excursion were inside the pack. This hunt was a little out of the
ordinary, but Damon would be prepared for anything. This was also a dangerous
hunt, his most dangerous. He was hunting a hunter, a true predator, a killer of
the first rate, a rogue. He had little information on the prey, other than the
fact he supposedly had a cabin in the mountains, to hide out in. So, Damon was
headed there now. And Damon had been sent, because he was the best, and
possibly the only one who could take out the rogue; a highly-trained and
extremely efficient killer, who had been a class one, as Damon was. This was
the challange Damon had been waiting for all his life, a true test, that he
might possibly lose. But, what the hell was life without a challange?
He climbed steadily toward the top of the mountain. It was cold, but he had
disciplined his body long ago against the effects of heat and cold. His outfit
was lightweight, but warm enough. He didn't need the added bulk if it came down
to a physical fight...and it might. He knew he couldn't gaurantee it would be a
simple assassination. He would be ready, regardless. And, if he failed...there
would be noone else to send for the job. This prey would be free, unless some
other group had a capable hunter, and a want to take out this rogue. Somehow,
Damon didn't think it was even a possibility.
Just as the sun was setting, he reached the top of the mountain. Normally,
sunset was a good time to hunt. It was an advantage for a hunter. But, this was
not normal. This prey was every bit as dangerous as the hunter, being a hunter
itself...just having jumped ship, a shark loose in the ocean of the world, with
a hunger for blood. Damon only hoped it didn't feast on him. He liked the
challenge, but he hated the thought of a fucking loss, taking pride in being
the best. Well, now he got the chance to prove it. The tension was building up,
as he crept toward the cabin, wary for traps, surprised at not finding any. Was
the man that fucking confident, that he was invincible. Well, he was about to
meet his match, Damon thought, as he neared the cabin. That's when he made his
mistake, being just a little too confident, himself.
Damon stepped up to the door of the cabin, the snow crunching beneath his feet,
and suddenly he felt the give, realizing the trap, he in his own overconfidance
had overlooked. Then, he felt himself falling, snow coming over him, as he went
down. The stop was abrupt, jarring. He realized he was in some sort of net.
But, before he could make any attempt to free himself, he felt a painful stab
into his right thigh, and saw the hand jerk back, holding the syringe, that was
empty now. Then, everything faded to black. Damon was aware he had been caught,
as the light faded.
Damon gradually came back to his senses, his head still slightly foggy, but
able to recognise the direness of his situation. He had been restrained, on a
flat hard surface, flat on his... bare stomach, yeah, he had been stripped of
his clothing. This could not be good. His legs were hanging off the surface of
whatever he was bound to. Some sort of cable had been wrapped around and around
his body and the hard surface, from chest to waist. His arms, effectively
enclosed within, pinned at his sides. His hands had been made into fists, and
securely wrapped in duct tape, so he couldn't move them. Then, Damon could feel
something in his mouth, preventing him from closing it, and a strap around the
back of his head, keeping his mouth about half open, definitely unconfortable,
and also strangely sexual, he thought, but not in a good way.
Whoever this freak was, Damon knew he was not going to like it. His bare ass
twitched in unwelcome attitude, as he found his legs had been left hanging off
the surface, but they were spread, and fastened at the ankles to something
...no this was not good, for him. And, there was no way for this to not be
sexual, as he could tell, from the way he was restrained. He may have liked
rough sex, but only of a purely consentual kind, and his being the aggressor,
as well as choosing his partners. This was not such an occasion. And he felt he
would be the recipient of a lot of pain that he was not going to enjoy. But, he
also could see no way to avoid it. Then, he heard the distinct sound of ripping
duct tape, and a wide band was slapped over his eyes, effectively blinding him,
and more added, wrapped around his head...damn it was getting worse. He had to
hand it to the phycho. He was quite effective. And, now there was a rough
amused laugh heard, and Damon knew he was in serious trouble.
There were no words. Damon heard some sound, then felt his head being jerked up
by the hair, before his mouth was filled with a large cock, being forced into
it, and down his throat, gagging him...and his head was held firmly in place,
while the man shoved his cock repeatedly down his throat, over and over,
causing him to struggle for breath, as his was cut off, the man's groin
grinding into his face as he ejaculated down his throat, holding Damon's face
against his crotch as he finished depositing his load, and Damon's world faded
into his unconsciousness.
Damon's unconsciousness didn't last long. An intense pain brought him back
quickly, and he let out an involuntary moan, which brought out a horrible
rumble of laughter from his tormentor, who still had not spoken one word. He
laughed again, before Damon felt the pain as some sort of paddle slammed down
on his bare ass again and again. The creature brought the instrument of torture
down too many times to keep track of. Damon was sure he would be badly bruised
and unlikely able to walk if he were released, not that it was likely. Damon
knew this monster had no intention of releasing him. He was sure he would be
killed, but unfortunately, he knew he was going to be tortured for some time
before that happened. And this beating was only the beginning of the pain he
would be forced to endure.
Damon drifted in a field of pain for the next several hours, as his tormenter
left him alone with his misery. He couldn't be sure of the passage of time,
distracted by everything he'd been put through. But, he was sure it was several
hours later, before the man was back. Damon almost gagged as something was
shoved into his mouth, then a sudden rush of water was blasting down his
throat, and he realized it was a hose, as he choked and gagged at the force of
the water. Then, it was removed, as he gasped for breath. Little chance for a
reprieve as the man's cock was shoved back into his mouth. He tried to
struggle, but his hair was caught , holding him in place, while the man shoved
the cock down his throat again, holding him, while he fucked his mouth and
throat savagely, keeping the cock buried in his throat, as he delivered another
load of cum down his throat, as he lost consciousness again for lack of air,
only to be reawoken by the paddle beating him again. This time he was beaten
until he passed out from the pain.
When Damon woke again, he knew he'd been unconscious for some time, and he was
aware of the agonizing pain of his beaten ass. But, he could sense he was
alone. The feel of the cabin was emptiness, other than himself. But, he also
knew he could not attempt an escape. There was no way to free himself. The only
thing he could do was wait for his tormentor to return, and he was furious at
that thought...furious at his own helplessness. But, he was not afraid... he
was never afraid, because he knew death was the endgame...and he had no fear of
death...just hated the amount of pain he would have to endure before he was
granted that final rest. And, he was pissed that he had failed, and pissed that
he couldn't kill this son-of-a-bitch, because the bastard wouldn't give him the
quick death he deserved... wouldn't show him that respect that he deserved...
the respect that all hunters gave each other... the respect that was his due...
that he would have given, if he had been successful in his mission. The sex was
a humiliation that should never have happened, another rule the rogue had
broken. But, somehow, Damon knew the bastard had no regard for the rules... and
the bastard was truly insane now... of that, Damon was completely sure, not
that that tidbit of information would help him any.
Then, Damon heard the sound of the door opening, and the wash of frigid air
over his naked flesh. The bastard took some time, apparently hauling some
things inside, by the sounds Damon could hear. Finally, the door closed, but
Damon didn't feel any better about that. A few minutes passed, as Damon waited,
before the creature was back, running cold hands over exposed flesh, causing an
involuntary shiver from Damon, which earned a low chuckle from the creature,
before he moved away. He was back in minutes though, dumping a load of icy snow
onto Damon's body, causing him to gasp, at the shocking iciness. And as he
tried to catch his breath, he felt hands scooping up the snow, shoving hands
full under his body, enveloping his cock and balls in the freezing cold, and
instant pain... then more was scooped up, fingers forcing it into his rectum,
until his hole was numbed by the snow. Damon chewed his lips against the pain,
but couldn't help the moans that escaped his lips, though he wasn't actively
trying to be quiet or stoic either... just knowing the man didn't care about
his pain... and the moans seemed to excite him, which Damon really didn't
want... to give the bastard any more pleasure in his expressions of pain.
But, of course, that's what he'd done. He felt hands gripping his hair, holding
him in place, as the cock was stuffed into his mouth again, shoved down his
throat, as the man sat a brutal rhythem, slamming down his throat over and
over, until he suddenly pulled free, delivering his load all over Damon's face
this time, with an evil laugh. Then he made his way around Damon, back to his
ass, and the paddle went to work again, beating his ass until he passed out
from the pain. When Damon woke, the man stuffed his mouth full of snow, numbing
it, though it melted, and some ran down his throat soothing the rawness
slightly. At that point, Damon felt something against his rectum, having been
pressed between his ass cheeks, then he almost let out a scream at the
agonizing pain of that something being forced inside him... something hard and
large. Damon had never bottomed during sex, and his rectum had never been
penetrated, so he was a virgin in that department... until this penetration, of
course, and he was being torn open. Soon, he felt the warmth of his blood
running down over his cold balls and cock, as the object was lodged deep inside
his body. Then he felt the man twist the object, and the vibration started,
sending waves of pleasure through his body, the object against his prostate.
Damon's jerked, as the waves of pleasure flowed throughout his body, then he
felt the paddle slam down on his aching buttocks again, and the bastard beat
him as the waves of pleasure coursed his body, until an orgasm rocked his body,
but the vibrator continued against his prostate until it was pure agonizing
pain instead of pleasure, as the man continued to beat him, but slightly less,
so he stayed awake this time. Finally, he stopped the beating, but Damon was
moaning very loudly now... in too much pain to hold back. The man drug the
vibrator out of his torn ass, at that point, but there was no relief, as he
shoved his own hard cock into the raw, bleeding, still tight entrance, fucking
Damon savagely, finally forcing a strangled scream from those lips. Then,
another and another, as he laughed and laughed, until he ground himself into
the body beneath him, and released inside it. He collapsed onto Damon's body,
laying there for a few minutes, hands running up and down Damon's thighs,
grinding down into him as he enjoyed the last traces if his orgasm, before he
pulled out of the ravaged body. Damon lost consciousness at that point.
Damon woke to the sound of snoring. His body was in such pain, but he made no
sound, his mouth too dry to make a sound, anyway, and his throat was raw and
parched. The snow that had been shoved into his mouth earlier was only a small
amount of liquid, and Damon knew he was dehydrated, but there was nothing he
could do about that either. He wished he knew how much this bastard intended to
torture him before he killed him, and he had a feeling he was going to last a
while, as the man seemed to want to keep him alive, just to see how much pain
he could endure, Damon being his experiment, apparently, in sexual torture, and
any expression of pain from his victim seemed to arouse the monster further. He
really enjoyed inflicting pain. And, Damon was the perfect speciman for him to
unleash on, the beautiful speciman he could destroy. And, Damon would give him
his greatest pleasure, being able to endure so much. Yes, Damon had the phycho
figured out, not that it would help him in any way. He only wished his body
hadn't been trained to endure, because the monster would definitely use it
against him.
Damon wished he could die, end it all...but his body wouldn't allow it. He
didn't want to endure what was sure to be coming. He felt all the beating would
cause him permanent damage, but he wouldn't live for that to occur, he knew. He
wished he knew how he would finally die though...how the bastard would finally
end his life... and knew it wouldn't be anything as simple as a bullet to the
brain. No, the bastard surely had something hidious planned for his finale.
Damon wished he didn't have the starring role in this drama, dictated by the
madman. Those were his thoughts, as he drifted off again.
Damon was awakened by the paddle slamming down on his buttocks. He jerked
awake, making a dry raspy noise. He heard a chuckle, then the hose was pushed
into his mouth, and a minute later, the cold water gushed into his throat, and
he swallowed to keep from choking, until it began to overwhelm him, and he
choked. The hose was pulled from his mouth, then ran over his body, rinsing it
off, before his ass cheeks were pulled apart, and the hose shoved inside him,
filling his bowels with freezing cold, until he felt he would burst, before it
was yanked out. Horrible cramps began to rip through his gut. He felt a plastic
bag against his ass, just before his body forcefully expelled all the cold
liquid that had been forced inside him, along with the contents of his colon,
and he realized the bag also caught the contents of his cock, which let out a
small stream from his emptying bladder. The hose was used again to rinse off
his ass, not for his confort, but for his torturer's enjoyment, Damon was sure.
The man took the bag away somewhere, but was soon back, with a clean body at
his disposal. He moved immediately to Damon's mouth, shoving his cock into it.
But he moved at a slow pace this time, making deep slow thrusts down Damon's
raw throat, taking his time, soaking his cock in the wet mouth, before he
pulled it out, and moved down between Damon's thighs, pulling his ass cheeks
apart, forcing the bulbous head into the tight hole, then giving a hard thrust,
forcng into the hot sheath, causing Damon to moan in pain. He forced his cock
in to the hilt, grinding down to get in deeper.
Suddenly, Damon felt a stinging pain, as a knife slashed across the area
between his neck and shoulder, then his warm blood began to run down his back
and chest. But, it was only a second... as a hot mouth settled over the slash,
sucking at the wound, and orgasmic moans sounded close to his ear, and the
man's hips began to pump, driving the cock in and out of Damon's body, at a
slow pace, driving in hard and deep, pulling out slowly, then pushing back in,
trying to get in deeper with each thrust, as the mouth sucked and gnawed at the
wound. Then the mouth raised up. As the hips ground against Damon's ass,
getting his cock in as deep as possible. Then, another painful sting, as
another slash was made near the first, and the hot mouth closed over it
instantly, sucking, moaning in pleasure, as the hips began began to pump again,
the same slow deep penetration as before. This went on for some time, with more
cuts, until Damon was sure he'd suffered at least half a dozen cuts, before the
man ground hard into him, and released his load, gnawing at the last cut, like
a hungry dog.
Damon couldn't believe he was still conscious, as the man was draped over his
body, licking at the cuts he'd made. Finally the body lifted off his, and Damon
tried to take a relieved breath, but he felt the hard vibrator being shoved
inside him again, nestled in tight against his prostate, before being switched
on, sending waves of pleasure through his body again, as the paddle delivered a
hard slap to his ass, causing him to cry out in pain, and it came down hard
again, over and over, until his body convulsed in an unwanted orgasm, the
paddle continuing to slap hard across his ass until the pleasure turned to pain
inside his body too, and he was crying out in hoarse moans at the intensity of
the pain inside and out. Then, the man pulled the vibrator from his ravaged
body, pushing it into his mouth, to vibrate against his raw throat, causing him
to cry out, with small sounds from his stuffed mouth, until he could make no
more sounds. Then, the madman pulled the device free. He left Damon alone for a
few minutes, but it was only to collect more snow, which he forced into Damon's
rectum, filling him as full as he could, numbing him with the cold, then
leaving him...for the snow to melt, and his rectum to come back to the stinging
burning pain.
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Damon returned to consciousness slowly, realizing he was laying on his side,
feeling a soft pillow at his back, and a warm sheet and blanket draped over his
body. At first he thought he had died and gone to heaven, but remembered he
probably had a different destiny in store, and opened his eyes to the warm
whiteness of what could only be a hospital room. And, he was wearing one of
those silly hospital gowns. There were tubes and wires everywhere he looked. He
wondered how he had gotten here. Then, he became aware of a figure slouched in
a chair beside the bed, sleeping. He wondered who it was, sure it wasn't his
tormentor, but curious as to who it was. The figure seemed slightly familiar,
but he wasn't sure why. Damon tried to move, and the pain almost overwhelmed
him, causing a raspy groan, and the figure lifted it's head, and Damon let out
a gasp.
***** Melting Frost *****
A big grin lit the face when it rose to face Damon. And, those amazing eyes
were actually glowing with amusement. He didn't move though, just sat there
grinning at Damon, forcing him to start the conversation.
"Who the fuck are you, and why are you here?" Damon rasped, unable to growl
with his raw throat, feeling hoplessly unintimidating under the circumstances.
The guy definitely had a flair for the dramatic, clasping his hands over his
heart, and letting out a loud gasp. "You forgot me already. I was sure I made a
great impression. Even though you dismissed me that night, you wanted what ole
Frost had to offer. I'm never wrong in my judgement of character, and I was
aware of the once over... and now, this? I gave you my name, baby." The guy
tried a winning smile, instead of his grin.
Not an improvement in Damon's opinion. "Don't fucking call me baby. You sure
haven't been given that right." Damon managed to growl, slightly, his throat
flaring in pain. "And, you still have said nothing about why you are here."
I am your hero, dear. I rescued you from the big bad boogie man. So....," Frost
gave Damon a wink, "I think I am deserving of a, 'thank you'. And, I definitely
should have the right to call you, 'baby'. I also feel like you should reward
my heroics... in a manner we might both enjoy... when you are feeling better,
that is."
"You rescued me from that sadistic fucker?" Damon raised a brow, appearing
calm, but his mind was whirling. No matter what this guy was putting out there,
he was hiding a lot. That sadist had been a highly-trained assassin. Only
someone of his caliber could have killed him, and he would have had to be
killed. He would not have surrendered. So, Damon eyed Frost with new eyes. This
was a very dangerous man...but what did he want with Damon. "How did that
happen?" Damon spoke slowly, cautious. "Nobody knew where I was. And, I don't
believe in coincidence, like you just happened to be in the area..."
The smile took an absolutely deadly turn, a dangerous glint, suddenly appearing
in those truely amazing eyes. "We, all have our secrets, darling." The voice
held a coldness, now, that only Damon would have noticed." I must say, I was so
intrigued with you, that I decided to follow you..., until I managed to lose
you... Then, I had to take some initiative to find out where you had gone, thus
the delay in my rescue..." a look crossed the face, just for a second, but
Damon saw the compassion, before it was hidden.
"You tracked me down. How clever you are." Damon said. "And, you were capable
of taking care of the problem, I see. But, don't expect me to be in your debt.
I didn't ask for your help. And, you intruded on a situation ...you weren't
supposed to be there. So, feel free to leave now. I can recover on my own. And,
I have to cross a target off my list. You can put that down on your own list,
that I'm sure you have. My boss will pay you well for your effort, as I'm sure
you're aware of. But, I'm really not feeling grateful at the present time. Just
go away and let me lick my wounds in peace."
"I agree that you are totally ungrateful, given the circumstances. I put out a
great deal of effort, to be of aide to you, and I deserve a little gratitude
for that. I will excuse that for now, being as how you are a bit under the
weather, but I will expect my due... in time. Now, I will leave you alone...
'to lick your wounds.' But, I will see you again. Of that you can be sure. Be
seeing you, darling." He gave Damon a wicked grin, at his grimace, then rose
from the chair and ambled out of the room.
Damon waited a few minutes, then snatched the phone out of the bed railing,
dialing a memorized number. The phone rang several times before it was
answered, but the voice made Damon sigh in relief. "Operation fuck-up, Blu. I'm
in the hospital. Would love to see your mug. Don't know what hospital... trace
the call and find out. See you when you get here, babe. Love ya."
He replaced the phone, not placing a call to his boss. The man wasn't a
priority, and he was sure the prick knew everything already anyway... Damon was
waiting to find out about his injuries as soon as a doctor made an appearance
in his room. He didn't think that sadistic bastard had done him any permanent
damage, other than some scars, maybe, but he might have done more after Damon
lost consciousness. Damon was in a great deal of pain, even with medication in
his system. He could tell from the way he felt, knowing the pain would have
been much more without medical intervention. So, for that he was grateful. Now,
he wanted to find out just what the extent of the damage was.
The doctor finished rewrapping his bandages, then turned to give him an update.
'It seems you will have minimal scarring. There were numerous cuts made along
your shoulders and on your neck, but they were relatively shallow, don't expect
much scarring there, but a couple of cuts along your ribcage were a bit deeper,
and they will have some scarring. They may also limit your movement a bit if
you develop scar tissue. The cuts to your groin are also likely to scar. The
largest part of the damage though was to your scrotum. It seems it was sliced
open on the left side, and a testicle was removed. From the information we
have, it was apparently eaten by the person who perpetrated these injuries on
your person." The doctor paused at a surprised grimace from Damon.
"This information was provided to us by a Mr. Frost, who brought you to us."
The doctor continued, when Damon stayed silent. "We have provided you with a
prosthetic to maintain balance, something we've done with testicular cancer
patiants before, and they assured us of it's natural feel, saying they couldn't
tell the difference. It may be more difficult to father a child, but should not
hinder your sex life. Now, there will be some scarring in the rectum. It was
torn quite a bit and stitches were required, thus there will most likely be
scarring and some disconfort in voiding. When you have anal sex in the future,
be prepared for some pain even if being generous with the lubrication. So you
might want to take it easy..."
"I don't practice anal sex." Damon interrupted.
"Of course not." The doctor sounded sceptical.
Damon let it drop. The doctor's opinion of him really didn't matter anyway. He
was just the medical professional that was there to heal his abused body. His
opinion of Damon's sex life meant nothing. And, Damon would heal. Nothing else
mattered. And, the sick bastard who had abused him so badly was also dead,
albeit, not by his own hand, he thought irritably. God, that part really pissed
him off. He so wanted to kill that bastard, a long drawn-out extremely painful
death to be sure. But, he would never have that chance for revenge.
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"Mother-fucker actually ate one of your nuts?" Blu was astounded by Damon's
relating of his adventure into the den of madness. He didn't understand Damon's
need for that kind of adrenaline rush, the kind that could prove lethal. He
liked a bit of a rush himself, but didn't push it to the edges as his friend
did.
"Apparantly, I was unconscious at the time. Almost bit it this time, Buddy.
Closest I've ever been. I knew this one could be my last." Damon said. "I was
even aware it could be a long painful draw out, though I hoped for a quick
death, if it come to that, respect, hunter to hunter, you know. Wasn't prepared
for the sexual torture though. That fucker raped me...over and over...plus he
forced me to orgasm, too. That was what I hated the most, that he had complete
control over my body...and I was helpless against him using me any way he
wanted. You know I'm all about rough and dominant sex. But, it is always
concentual... never forced. That was total disrespect. He had the right to give
me a long painful death. I came into his world, with the intention of taking
his life. He had the right to take mine, in exchange. He had no right to rape
me. That is against the code. And, I didn't get the chance to take his head as
a personal trophy for that atrocity."
"What would you want his damn head for? Isn't that more of a thing for your
boss. He takes those trophies sometimes, doesn't he? Wonder what he does with
the damn things. You don't need to have a trophy. You got the memories of all
your kills."
"I wanted his fucking head, Blu. Don't know what I would have done with it, but
I wanted it. That bastard was my first fail, you know, and it was a spectacular
one. And, he took something from me. Taking his head would have meant taking
something from him, tit-for-tat and all that." Damon said.
"You don't need it. You already have something, unfortunately... you have the
memory. I'm sorry. It's not what you want to hear, but you know me. Honest,
man. But, for now, I'll give you some more advice. Rest...heal. Then, get back
in the saddle... and ride, cowboy, ride. We still have the most important
things... each other, for example. Thank God, I didn't lose you. That would be
my darkest day. Not sure I could recover from that. Might be the end of both of
us. You are my soul man. Can't live without my soul." Blu was silent for
several minutes after those final words, and Damon didn't break it. He knew it
was Blu's silent tears, and gave him that silent respect, then, "Gotta go,
though, man. Places to be, places to be. Stay cool. I'll catch some time with
you later." Blu bent down and gave Damon a soft kiss, then ambled out the door.
Damon missed him already. He would heed the advice though... didn't have a
choice. He curled up in the bed and sleep found him, though he was sure the
doctor had helped it along with a little something in his IV. He wouldn't
complain about that right now though... maybe tomorrow.
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"What is going on?" Roze said, suspiciously, as she slipped into the seat of
the limo. She had agreed to the date with Blu, but this was a bit over the top,
like a night at the prom.
"What does it look like pretty lady? A boy...a girl...a date." Blu said.
"A limo?"
"I know how to treat a lady. This is our first date, and it should be special.
A little dinner... a little dancing... maybe some romancing..." Roze raised an
eyebrow.
"Just saying..." Blu said, catching her hand, lifting it to his lips and
planting a kiss to the back of it. "I like to go in style, anyway. Not one to
do anything half-ass."
Roze gave a smile. She was glad she'd said yes to this man. And, he was right.
She just hadn't been treated like a lady in such a long time, and her job
didn't let her feel like one. She was a killer, and there was no sexuality
defined there. She could hold her own with the guys. And, they didn't treat her
any differently. They expected her to be as tough as they were, and she didn't
disappoint. But, it was nice to be treated this way. And, she was going to give
in to it, and enjoy. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
She was beside herself, in shock, devastated. This was not how her life had
been planned. She had been married to the perfect man, expecting her first
child, her future set in stone. Now, her world was in limbo. She had been the
perfect preacher's wife. It had been all she ever wanted. And, her husband had
inherited a nice tidy sum of money so they would live well in the faith. Now,
that had all been torn from her. Who would want to murder such a wonderful man?
But, that is what had happened. Her husband had been murdered. Now, she was a
widow, and her child would never know it's father.
It wasn't like she had to worry financially. That was covered. But, it was the
family that had been destroyed. She had expected to grow old with her husband,
and raise a family together with him, adding several children to the one she
was expecting. Now, that dream had been shattered. What would she do with the
rest of her life. Would it become just a lonely existance. She had been married
to the love of her life. And, his flame had been extinguished, long before it's
time. As Summer left the cemetary, where her husbands body had been interred
into a mausoleum, lost to her forever, her mind was whirling with these
thoughts. She climbed into the waiting limo, which would take her home, to an
empty house, a place to grieve and a place to find a way to gather her strength
and go on. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
"Hey, Little Girl Lost, come talk to me." the voice spoke from the shadow of
the canopy cover over the doorway, of a long-closed shop. Jamaica glanced in
the direction, but didn't move any closer. She had just come out on the
streets, to get a break from the club next door to this building. It was where
she worked sometimes; and tonight had been one of those times. She had a couple
hours left before she headed home, not that she was looking forward to that
place either. It could only be described as a place to lay her head, definitely
not home, though she wasn't sure what home would feel like, never having really
had one. But, back to the shadowy stranger. She wasn't curious enough to put
herself in danger. And stayed away from the darkened area, but kept an ear
open.
"I really don't bite, you know." The voice chuckled.
Definitely masculine. A bit more interest, but still no movement on her part.
Nor his either, she didn't believe.
"I just want information. Not looking for a date. I only like the boys anyway,
sweet. Though you are a lovely one. I heard you are the ear of the street and
can find out anything about anyone. And, I can pay for that. What do you say,
little doe? Can you spare some time?"
"Perhaps." Jamaica smirked. "But, not in the shadows. Buy me dinner and let's
start a conversation. Doesn't have to be a hotspot, but it does have to be
public. Choose wisely. I don't come cheap. But, I am always worth it."
"Ok, Sweets. Let's grab a cab, and have a dine with some lovely conversation."
Jamaica was surprised when he stepped out from under the canopy. His lean hard
body was encased in leather, which was a look the boys went for. But, she could
tell he wasn't the usual leather-boy. He had silver hair, which she was sure
was natural, but he wasn't really that old, only the thirties, for sure. And,
he had amazing gray eyes which had streaks of a brilliant blue in them, an
amazing combination. But, those eyes also said this was a most dangerous
individual, as well. She had to be careful. But, she thought she'd chance it.
He followed her over to the street, where she hailed a cab.
"You also pay the fare." She tossed at him as a cab pulled up to the curb.
"It was understood. Lead the way, Little Girl Lost."
***** Blu Days and Blu Nights *****
Blu was there, as usual, holding the door open to a shiny sports car, one from
his collection, Damon knew, though Blu rarely took them out, so he was making
this a special event for Damon. Damon felt a little emotional at Blu's display.
This was his man, his brother, his soul, and he didn't know what he'd do
without this one in his life. Hopefully, he'd never have to find that out.
He slid into the passenger seat carefully, still sore and feeling some pain,
after his ordeal. He was beeing sent home with antibiotics and pain meds, as
well as instructions on how to take care of himself, and a date to return to be
checked out, to see how he was healing. Yippee!
"Welcome to easy street, babe." Blu said. "Buckle up. Safety first, my motto,
and you will obey in my world, which is where you will be staying until fully
recovered. You are officially on vacation, got it. Your boss can fuck himself,
if he wants to disagree."
"Yes, Master." Damon gave a weary smile."Your wish is my command. I don't feel
up to a fight right now. And, I really could use a vacation. So, take me away,
Calgon Blu."
"Are you trying to be funny, man? Your sense of humor sucks. But, I'll give you
a pass, this time, only. We'll get you back to speed in nothing flat, don't you
worry. Let's go spend some time together, while you recover. Got a nice spot
for us to disappear for a while. You will love it." Blu retorted.
"Lead on, then, brother." Damon replied. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Summer had taken a couple of days since her husband's funeral, just wallowing
in the self-pity, then she pulled herself together. She had been a person
before she met Steven, a person of conviction, and a person with dreams. She
was not a weak person, and she needed to rely on that inner strength, now.
Losing her husband wasn't the end of her life. She had lost someone she loved,
true, but she hadn't lost herself.
So, she went through the house, touching everything, remembering, putting it
away, to be brought out for her children when they was old enough to need the
knowledge of their father, and of their parents together, before they were torn
apart. So, she locked the memories away, saving them for the day when they
would be needed.
She had a determined look on her face, when she was getting ready for bed. She
had a long day tomorrow. She was going to take over her husband's church. She
could lead as well as he could. Her belief was strong, and she'd do whatever
was necessary to accomplish her goal. And, she would not fail. God was with
her, as he had always been. And, her mission was to lead the congregation to
the right path, and to revenge her husband's death, and she would make sure she
acheived both goals. She was the Lord's child, after all.
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Jamaica danced slowly, sensuous lyrics playing over the speakers, the man in
front of her watching with those intense gray eyes, with fascinating brilliant
blue streaks. His smile would seem genuine, but she didn't believe it. It was
part of the mask he wore. She would have shivered from the cold emanating from
those eyes, but knew he wasn't directing it at her. It was all internal.
He directed the cold at himself, to keep from burning alive. He was aflame with
a passion, one that he was sure only one person could tamp. That person had
apparently gone into hiding, and even his bosses couldn't find him. Frost had
checked all of his contacts, finding not even the ghost of his footprints to
lead him in any direction to find the lost heart.
So, he had come back to see his Little Girl Lost, just to watch her dance, to
distract him from his burning. Frost may have fit his physical appearance, but
it was not a match for his soul. He should be a Flame, because that's how he
felt. And, the obsession he'd developed for the Death Angel wasn't cooling his
passion in the least.
He knew there was only one way he was going to save himself from turning to
ash, and that was to come together with the Angel in a clash of wings and
bones, until both were dripping blood and other fluids... lots of other
fluids... Frost motioned the girl over, placing five crisp one hundreds into
the g-string she wore, tweaking one of her pert little nipples, blowing her a
kiss, and walking away. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Joann watched Davis pace the office, angrily. She knew why he was upset. He had
lost track of one of his agents, his wayward child, Damon. The man seemed to
have dropped off the face of the earth. He had been in the hospital only days
ago, in serious condition, after an assignment had gone awry in a disastrous
fashion. A stranger had called Davis, letting him know, that Damon had been
retrieved from the location, and a patient in the hospital, and, the said
target had been neutralized.
None of this information set well with Davis. His organization was supposed to
be a secret, but someone had gotten in, a highly-skilled someone. His
sophisticated computer system had also been hacked, the stranger having gotten
in through a back door, somehow. So, Davis was not happy. And, even her skills
in the bedroom weren't going to be able to raise his mood today.
And, she knew he wouldn't find his lost agent until the man wanted to be found.
Damon was a special case, unlike the other agents. That one had always been a
little scary, so mysterious. And, it would be a scary day indeed if he decided
to turn on them. That was what ran through Davis' mind, she knew, the fear that
he would lose whatever control he had over the elusive agent. And, now there
was this stranger who had latched onto their organization, which really didn't
improve Davis' mood. She turned back to her computer, no more time to dwell on
the moods of her boss, and tonight she would go home alone, no rendevous
planned. The man needed his space, now.
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Blaze smoothed down her gypsy skirt, inspected her roman sandles and silky
silver tank one last time. Her long brunette hair tumbled over her shoulders
past her waist, decorated with a diamond headband, a perfect match for several
thin diamond dusted bracelets around her wrists, and the diamond dusted hoops
in her ears. Though she had chosen the jewelry, her paramour had paid for it.
He loved treating her, and this little gift was just one of the things he'd
given her.
She had only been seeing him for a couple weeks, and the man was totally
besotted, she knew, giving a knowing smile at the thought. He might be the one,
having all she required in a prospective mate. The man was young, attractive,
and a blueblooded heir to a fortune. Yes, a great match, but not quite yet. She
wanted to have a little fun before she settled into a marriage. And, going fo a
night sail was certainly a nice form of entertainment. It was a beautiful
night, and the moon would be bright and romantic. She sprayed on an extra puff
of her Pleasures perfume, then headed out the door, getting into her silver
Porsche. She'd meet Guido at the pier, for their night sail, wondering what
he'd gift her with next, maybe a shopping spree. She might drop him a hint. She
always loved to shop, especially on someone else's dime.
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
"Thanks, Blu." Damon took the iced tea his friend friend handed him him. When
Blu had taken him to the private airstrip a few days ago, he'd been surprised.
When Blu said somewhere private, he hadn't thought he meant a different
country. But, they ended up on one of Blu's private islands, ownership under a
fictitious company name, something Blu was good at creating, among other
things.
Damon was feeling better, almost healed after a few days in Blu's company, more
than the meds, making him feel that way. He was pretty much back to his old
self, after what had happened to him. He was ready to be the hunter again, even
though a hunter had put him out of commission. But, that had been his fault. He
had just gotten so used to being superior to all of his targets, and become
arrogant. That monster had apparently become the same. It wasn't a mistake
Damon would make again. He guessed the two of them had had a lot in common.
That thought made Damon unconfortable. But, Damon didn't understand the sexual
torture. He had never done anything against his sexual partner's will. It was
always consentual. And, he'd never used sexual torture on one of his targets.
He wondered just how far gone that hunter was, or if he had always enjoyed
sexual torture and unwilling participants. Damon just didn't get it.
"Sorry to interrupt your musing, but you're thinking so loud I can hear you."
Blu said.
Damon gave a wry grin. "Something you wanna say, Blu?"
"Yeah. Just wondering if what that guy did made you think about switching from
being being a top man all the time?"
"A guy raping me hasn't changed me from wanting to be in control, Blu. I've
always been a top man. The other way is just not my thing, you know that."
Damon said quietly. "But, I'd give it up for you, if you wanted, and I'd make
sure you enjoyed it, even if I didn't."
"I'm not into men, Dae, not after what my uncle did. But, when I gave you that
blow job a long time ago, I enjoyed it, because I could do that for you. You
are not just anybody. I would do anything for you." Blu said. "But, you are the
straitest bi I've ever met. Most enjoy a variety of styles, top and bottom."
"Are you saying you want to fuck me, Blu?" Damon was surprised.
"No. I don't want to fuck you. But, I think you need me to make love to you."
Blu replied. "You need to learn about pleasure, Dae. Just trust me. Give
yourself up to me, and I will help you."
"Blu, my body isn't ready to take that trip. You know how much pain I need..."
"Leave it to me. I can give you the most exquisite pain, without hurting you,
and I can teach you what your body was truly made for, what real pleasure
really is, and how to enjoy taking it.
"I trust you, Blu, but I'm not sure what you want. I said I would give it up to
you, but you said you don't want it, but you think I need it. Blu, I really
don't think I need to be fucked..."
"I never said you needed to be fucked, you idiot. I said you need me to make
love to you. You need to be taken by someone who loves you, someone who
understands your needs. I can give you the pain you crave, without hurting you,
and I can teach you true pleasure. You are not an animal, you don't just fuck.
I can teach you to feel." Blu said. "So, will you give me that chance?"
"You know I'll let you do whatever you want, Blu, but don't be disappointed if
it doesn't work."
It won't be a disappointment, bro. You will understand, later." Blu smiled,
softly.
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
***** Frosted Windows of the Soul *****
Roze gave the appropriate response, her smile looking genuine, even though she
really had no feelings about Blaze's engagement. The petite brunette showed off
her exquisitely expensive pink diamond engagement ring. It was beautiful, of
course. Blaze always liked beautiful expensive things, and men who could
provide them. She would never sell herself short, knowing her worth. She had
snagged a true blueblood, too, who was so besotted with her, he was totally
wrapped around her little finger, willing to go to any lengths to make her
happy. And, even though she had surprised herself by accepting his marriage
proposal so early in their relationship, she had no misgivings.
She had to share the good news with her coworkers, letting them know she had
found what she wanted. And, now she had a year to plan the wedding, refusing to
even consider having a shorter engagement. The wedding she wanted needed a lot
of time to put together. Everyone at the office wished her the best and went
back to their jobs, as did she. She would be cutting down on her hours though,
and very soon, needing time to plan her extravagant wedding.
Roze looked over her folder, checking out her latest assignment. It was
actually a fairly easy hit for her, the kind she'd executed many times before,
but it was best not to get complacent. That's what had happened with Damon, and
he had almost died. She didn't want to make the same kind of mistake. She new
that Damon was also with her new boyfriend, guessing she could call Blu that,
since they had gone on a date, a very lovely date, she thought, smiling.
She definitely liked Blu, and was hoping to see him again soon, though she had
no doubt she'd be sharing him with Damon, and, curiously, she was ok with that,
knowing the two were closer than true brothers, soulmates in a sense, mirrors
of each other's souls, almost. And, she didn't want to come between them. She
wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to come together with Blu, and be invited
into into Damon's life, become a third in the group, as a friend Damon could
believe in, and a lover Blu could bond with.
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Jamaica danced, but was a little off her game tonight, with those strange gray
eyes watching her so intently, tonight not so much intriguing as frightening.
They didn't even look gray with brilliant blue streaks anymore, but looked like
an icy luminous silver, that burned into her like the fires of hell. She wanted
to be off the stage, but was also frightened of leaving the spotlight, because
he was waiting, waiting for her, and she was terrified, knowing he wanted
something from her, but not what, and knowing she would not be allowed to
refuse.
Frost knew his Little Girl Lost was afraid of him tonight, and he didn't really
give a fuck. She had something he wanted, and she was going to give it up. He
had gone easy on her before, not realizing what a clever girl she was. She had
seemed an innocent playing grown-up, and he had bought it. But, she was far
from an innocent, a sly creature that was going to be brought to heel. When he
had first called her Little Girl Lost, he'd been thinking of her as a lost
innocent, putting on a hardass attitude. But, he'd come to realize the name
defined her perfectly, in a totally different way, meaning that the little girl
was totally lost, and a truely devious mind was held in that innocent pout.
Jamaica was a superb player for her young age, much smarter than many of those
weathered bitches, not putting her intelligence out there for all to see. He'd
always known she was clever, but not just how good she was. She had played him,
and he was pissed. Oh, he didn't mean to hurt her, but she didn't need to know
that. Because, as cunning and devious as she was, she still was young and just
needed to learn not to fuck with the devil, or you just might burn to ashes.
The song ended and it was time to leave the stage. Frost could see her
hesitance, but showed nothing as he continued to intimidate her with his icy
stare. She didn't need to get confortable, so she could play him again. He'd
known she had what he needed when he first met her, but a long conversation
with her had changed his mind, led him off a determined path. This time would
be different. She would give up her secrets, and she would give him everything
he wanted; and she would be left a trembling goddamn mess, because he would
teach her what it was like to really play in the damn big leagues.
About an hour later, fifty-three minutes to be exact, Frost walked out of the
dark motel room, leaving the terrified girl laying on the floor still trembling
in fear, not sure if she could believe she was still alive. He hadn't laid a
finger on her, but he had put the fear of hell into her, and she would never
try to play him again. His fascination with Little Girl Lost was over. She was
just another boring soul now, useless to him. She had been so easy to break,
and now he had information that was of some use to him, and his goal of having
the Death Angel for himself was a much more possible goal.
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The man climbed down the steps, taking them slowly, not wanting to fall. They
could become treacherous if one were not careful, but what could you expect
from the ancient, crumbling stone, leading down to the underground cavern where
the monster was imprisoned. He'd kept it there, on hold, until the time would
be right. As he entered the cavern, he smiled. It was there, just as he'd left
it, fastenened to the rock altar, the iron spikes driven though each hand and
foot, directly into the rock altar beneath. But, he had not relied on only that
to keep the creature secure, iron bracelets encircling hands and feet, attached
to chains, that had also been embedded in the rock.
The creature still looked human, even after all his handiwork. He'd gone to a
lot of trouble, after all. The body was nude, of course. The head had been
shaved bald, better to attach the electrodes to, so he could send jolts of
agonizing electricity through the creature. That was fun, watching it jitter on
the stone altar.
But he had done so much more. All the teeth had been removed, as had the
tongue, since neither were necessary for what he had in mind. He had also
removed all that unnecessary junk between it's legs, leaving only a small hole
for the liquid to run from. The other hole wouldn't get much use, as he had no
plans to feed the creature, so there would be nasty waste on his beautiful
altar, and only put enough liquid into it to keep it alive. He had been forcing
a hose down the throat on occasion to pour the urine into it. That was what
this creature deserved for hydration. He had removed the lips, eyelids and
ears, as well as puncturing the eyes and eardrums, so the creature was blind
and deaf as well. He would have destroyed the voice, but he liked the strangled
scream sounds it made, with no tongue for speech.
It's mind had been warped before, but now it was truely gone, which didn't
matter, as long as it could feel pain, which was the true purpose for it's
existance. He meant to torture it as long as possible, wishing it could be
eternity, but knowing that wasn't a possibility. And, now it was time for
another session. He flipped the switch, sending electricity through the body,
watching it jitter, as the garbled scream split the dank air of the cavern.
Well, it took a monster to give another what it desrved, and he would wear that
title proudly when it came to this creature.
Thirty minutes later, he was climbing back up those crumbling ancient stone
steps, back to the civilized world, back to sanity; for it took insanity to do
what he had to do, and enjoy it, because he did enjoy it, there was no doubt of
that. He had pressed the burning brand into the flesh of that creature several
times, his most enjoyable, with the last press of the brand against the cheek,
marking it in a fiery heat of hell, as the garbled screams tore through the
cavern, and the smell of burned flesh added to the stench of the urine running
from it's hole, until the creature became unconscious. Then, the fun was over,
and he was left to climb back up to the world of sanity once more, thinking on
his next visit, and what torture he could come up with, sure he could up the
pain.
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Frost entered his apartment silently, flipping on a light, illuminating the
lavish interior. The layout was stylish and expensive, but it really said
nothing about the man. He cared nothing for it. It was just for show. He only
cared about function, and the stylishness also had function. He stripped off
his clothes on the way to the bath, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake,
arriving at the bath totally nude, spending some time admiring himself in the
floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
He was not a shy man and enjoyed looking at his nude body, finding himself
beautiful. His hand slid over the lean smooth skin, down over his chest, over
the curves of his washboard abs, and caressing his sleek muscular thighs, then
sliding a hand around to squeeze one of his firm buttocks. He smiled. He was
perfect, and he wanted perfection for a mate. The Death Angel fit the bill, and
there was no way he would not have him. They would be perfect together. They
both craved the same things, the danger, the adrenalin rush, the pain... and
Frost would not be denied what he wanted.
Frost let his hand curl around his hardening cock. This was something he was
especially proud of, it's size, long and thick and perfectly shaped, with a
smooth velvety skin, growing harder as he held it, admiring it's beauty. He had
no false modesty, no modesty at all. He loved his nude body, the perfection of
it, and he had worked hard for that perfection, so why not love himself.
And, he knew that the Death Angel had that same perfection; he'd seen it for
himself, after all, when he'd rescued him... except for that one side of the
scrotum, where that bastard had sliced him open, to steal some of his
perfection. That had made Frost physically ill, and almost out of his mind,
that something had been stolen from him, because the Angel was his, every part
of him, from every inch of his skin to every hair on his head, to the very
breath in his lungs. The Death Angel, Damon... of course he knew his real name,
knew everything about him, or would soon. He did know the government group he
worked for, the fact that he was their assassin... hunter, as they called their
agents, whatever... that he was their best; and he knew this because he was
exactly the same thing, only working for another government group, a more
secretive one than the Death Angel's, even.
His group worked exclusively on foreign enemies though. He didn't deal with the
locals, though he was aware of them and of Damon's group. And, his obsession
with the man had grown as he crossed his path frequently over the last few
years, causing him to seek information on the hunter, and coming to know that
the hunter was a perfect match for him. And, he'd finally made his
introduction, sure of himself, shocked when Damon had not reciprocated, though
he hadn't shown it. He had been sure Damon was going to be his that night, so
sure that he'd intended to follow him home, forcing a confrontation, that would
end in violence and passion. He knew Damon wanted it as much as he did,
refusing out of pure arrogance, wanting the confrontation. But, then he'd lost
the Angel, and had to backtrack to find him, only to learn he'd headed out for
a hit.
He'd been pissed, at first, wanting to let the arrogant prick go for a while,
thinking he'd get him when he returned. But, then he decided to just follow
him, fortunately. He had almost lost his hunter to that psychopath, and that
was not something he wanted to contemplate. He had to have his mate. So, he'd
keep a better eye on him, now. But, of course, he'd slipped away again. And,
Frost had been left to stew, after a chat with Little Girl Lost hadn't
enlightened him as to how to find his hunter.
But, she'd spilled her secrets tonight, and he'd found out things he hadn't
known about the hunter, things he needed to research. He hadn't delved into the
hunter's past before, not feeling the need, thinking his hunter was a lone wolf
like himself, but now he knew about Blu... and he was going to find out about
that individual, and his relationship with Damon... and for Blu's sake, Frost
hoped it was only a friendship. Frost hadn't saved Damon from that psychopath,
just for someone else. He had saved him for himself, and god save anyone that
got in his way.
As Frost stepped into his huge shower, running a hand over the seagrass-colored
glass tiles, that rose all the way to the ten-foot ceilings, to the water
control, setting the temperature at what he wanted, and turning the lights
setting to rainforrest glow, before he turned on the waterfall, that would come
from the ceiling overhead. The water cascading over him soothed him, and
pleasure coursed through his body, his thoughts on Damon, and when he would
finally posess him, the feel of the tight sheath stretching to admit his
beautiful cock, taking him inside it's heaven, and he grew hard.
Frost stepped from the shower a half hour later, feeling clean, fresh and
sated. His orgasm had been wonderful, as he imagined Damon, up against the
shower wall, taking him in, as he fucked him violently; and he hadn't even had
to touch himself to come to an explosive orgasm, only cleaning himself after.
The trail of his rain-forrest scent lingered behind him, as he let himself air-
dry, the expensive special-order scent of the body washes and shampoos designed
only for himself. There was also a special lotion mist that finished, spraying
down over him after his shower, a special feature he'd had installed; another
reason to air-dry, giving the lotion a chance to soak into his skin, keeping it
luxuriously silky-soft.
Once he was dry, Frost spritzed on his cologne, and dressed for an evening out.
He had to find someone he could use for the night, someone who liked to be
fucked rough, a female that could take it like a man. When he fucked he didn't
want a man, to remind him of his hunter, he wanted the opposite gender, somone
he could just fuck emotionlessly, and get off with, someone very beautiful, who
was into S&M, liking it rough and painful. Frost needed sex, and since his
fixation on Damon, he'd concentrated on females, until he could have the
hunter, not taking another man to his bed, in place of his intended mate.
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Blu untied the velvet ribbons, releasing Damon's wrists, then his ankles. He
ran a hand down the beautiful body in a loving caress, then moved away. Damon
sat up slowly, curious, not understanding. Blu had tied him to the bed, after
he'd stripped and laid down on it for him. Then, he'd got out the oils and
given him a full deep-body massage, then... nothing... Blu had simply untied
him.
"What was that about, Blu?" Damon asked softly.
"I just couldn't do it... couldn't give you pain..." Blu looked into the eyes
of his friend, as he spoke. "I realized I could only love you the way I love,
and I don't love with pain. I love you Dae, and I can't cause you pain, even if
you want it. I could make love to you, but that's not going to prove anything.
It won't change anything about the way you feel. You might even enjoy it... but
you would never crave it."
Blu sighed, before he continued, "I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else
for that, and maybe someday you will. But, for now, let's just keep what we
have. There's nothing wrong with our relationship, so no need to break it by
turning it into something else. I'm sorry I even thought about it... It's just
that I didn't want that rape to be your only experience with giving up the
control, and letting someone control you. It's ok to submit sometimes... but,
I'll let someone else teach you, someone who can give you everything you need,
and also love you. You just need to be able to open yourself up for the
experience. Now, get dressed, while I wash up. I think we should go for a
moonlight sail. It's a beautiful night." Blu ended, walking out of the room.
***** Icy Flames *****
Damon shed his jacket, draping it over a chair, the rest of his clothes quickly
following, to be dealt with later. Within minutes he was in the shower,
preparing himself for the hunt, of the definitely erotic kind. Blu had dropped
him off at his hotel, with a simple, 'catch you on the wire.' They were ever
casual that way. Damon had fully recovered from his ordeal and was ready for
some action. After his shower, he donned his regular hunting wear, tight black
leather, and headed out to search the clubs, unaware of the shadow that
followed, too pent up to be cautious as usual, but unafraid, anyway. He was
sure he could deal with anything that came his way; and if not, it had been a
fulfilling life.
Damon still wasn't expecting what happened under the circumstances though. He'd
only been walking about five minutes, when he became aware of the shadow,
jerking around to catch whoever was tailing him. But, he was met by silent
darkness. His eyes peered into it, searching, but not finding; then, the silent
whisper of air and the sting at his throat, as he jerked back around, his
vision already a blur, and he was crumpling to the ground, only catching a
glimpse of the shadow, before his world turned black.
Frost gave an icy smile, dipping down to lift the unconscious man into his
arms. "Gotcha, my pretty." he whispered. "We have a date with destiny."
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"Well, hello, pretty lady." Blu purred into the phone. "The missing link has
returned, and wondered if you'd be free for some together time."
"You are lucky. I have nothing on my calander that is pressing me for time.
What do you have in mind?" Roze replied, smiling slightly, happy to hear from
Blu, and knowing Damon had now returned, but sure their boss wasn't aware of
that fact yet.
"How about I surprise you." Blu came back.
"That doesn't give me any idea how to dress." Roze protested.
"Keep it casual. We'll go shopping for our outfits together. That's when we'll
decide about our date." Blu countered.
"Boy, you do like surprises. You aren't even sure of the date... ok... how
about a pick up time?" Roze asked. "You'll have a pick-up within the hour, my
lady. Warm thoughts." Blu laid the phone down, smiling, feeling good. He had
hoped Roze would be free, and in the mood for him, and he had been rewarded.
The night was going to be fun. It was already off to a great start.
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Damon revived slowly, not allowing his captor the privilege of knowing of his
consciousness, keeping his eyes closed, trying to gather what information he
could about his surroundings, in the dark. He could tell there were lights on,
though they weren't bright, because of the dimness behind his lids, low lights,
then. And, he was laying on a bed, soft expensive linen, he could tell. He
wasn't restrained, he smiled in his head. His captor had been a fool, he
thought... a soft chuckle surprised him.
"I know you're awake, darling. I haven't survived this long by being stupid.
But, please don't try to assault my person... yet. That would be unwise on your
part. We have some business before the fun starts, and I think this business
will actually be fun for you, but it will be totally your choice if you want to
enjoy this business or not." the vaguely familiar voice said.
Damon thought about it for a moment, then decided to open his eyes. He sat up
on the bed, looking over at the familiar figure reclined in a side chair,
similar scenario, recognizing his so-called hero, his rescuer. He frowned, not
happy in the least. This was not someone he wanted to see again.
Frost smiled at the frown. It was ok, for now, but he meant to see a smile
later, in fact, he was counting on it. "It's ok. I understand your
disappointment. But, I brought you here for a reason, a couple in fact. And, I
think you will forget that disappointment soon, I assure you. I have given you
an early Christmas present, this year." Frost said.
"Why didn't you just ask? You had no damn reason to take me. What fucking drug
did you use on me that worked so damn fast... I had no time to react at all."
"Secret... and if I'd asked you would have refused. Couldn't accept that. So,
here you are..."
"I'm not staying." Damon snapped.
"Oh, I think you are." Frost replied. "If you'd reach up and touch your throat,
you'll find you have been restrained. But, mind you don't try to remove it, or
you will be immediately sorry"
Damon's hand flew to his throat, to feel the thin weightless chain that rested
against his skin. "What the fuck...?" he growled.
"It's tiny, but very powerful. If you can't restrain yourself, it's capable of
doing the job for you. It has a very nasty bite. I don't want to prove it to
you, so please don't force my hand in this. I want you to have a fun evening,
so don't ruin it."
"What do you want... sex? I already said no. I don't change my mind." Damon
sneered, taking his captor at his word about the chain around his neck, sure he
was telling the truth.
"Oh, I know what you said, but I also know what you thought. You wanted me, but
refused. Just arrogance on your part. We were meant to be together, and you'll
know it after this night." Frost assured Damon.
"We are not going to fuck, not tonight or ever. You'll be lucky if I don't
fucking kill you." Damon spat.
"We will fuck. Not only will we fuck, but we will FUCK! And, you will scream my
name when you come. I will accept nothing else." Frost smiled. "But, that is
for later. I want to give you a present first. Come with me. I can't wait for
you to see your present."
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Roze answered the chimes of her doorbell, wearing confortable jeans and a silk
tank, with slouch boots and rose gold hoops, her face only lightly touched by
some lip gloss and mascara, her Carmel glazed hair loose around her face, and
the scent of her Chanel perfume drifting around her. She had a Calvin bag
draped over her shoulder, and her cell phone slid into the front pocket of it.
She smiled to see Blu, in his trademark long white tank and tie die sneakers.
But, the white Porche at the curb was a new addition.
"You up for some fun, pretty lady?" Blu smiled, catching the tips of Roze's
fingers, bringing her hand up to his lips for a soft kiss. "For you, baby.
Would you like to drive?"
"Are you kidding?" Roze replied. "Of course."
"If you like it, it's yours." Blu said, causing Roze to glance at him in
surprise. "Just brought it from the showroom. It's new. Told the man it was
sold if my lady liked it. So, he'll be waiting anxiously to find out your
opinion, and if he gets that big fat commission, so please don't put the man in
the poor house by not liking it." Blu smiled.
"Poor house, huh?" Roze scoffed. "Wouldn't want that, would we?"
"No... we wouldn't." Blu chuckled. "Shall we go get this evening started then,
my lady?" Blu offered an arm.
"Yes." Roze closed her door and tucked her fingers into the curve of Blu's
elbow, as he led her to the driver's door, the keys dangling in the ignition.
"Where are we headed?" Roze asked.
"You decide, pretty lady. Pick a store. We'll make the decision on clothes
then. Just drive around and make a decision on the spur. Let it lead you to our
destination."
"Ok." Roze laughed. "Let's surprise ourselves."
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Damon stood at the bottom of the stone steps looking at the stone altar, with
something that looked like a body draped over it. He didn't know what to feel,
other than disgust. "What are you into...human sacrifice?" he growled at Frost.
"Not really. This is a special case. This one is yours, though I did enjoy
playing a little before I gave it to you." Frost chuckled.
"What makes you think I want this creature. I am not into this shit!" Damon
snapped.
Frost couldn't help laughing.
"What is so damn funny?"
"You." Frost chuckled. "I know your work. This is nothing you couldn't do
easily," Frost said, "for a reason." he added slyly.
"Don't have a reason..." Damon returned.
"Of course you do." Frost howled. "You have the best reason in the fucking
world." Frost paused for a moment. "But, of course... you don't know... you
never saw... this is your fucking tormentor, the demon who treated you so
rudely... your own personal devil. I saved him for you... although I couldn't
resist a bit of fun..." Frost sneered.
"This is...?" Damon was at a loss.
"The one and only." Frost smiled. "And, it belongs to you. You can choose how
it dies, hopefully you are in the mood for revenge... because I'd love to see
you covered in blood... it's a bit of a fantasy of mine, actually... that we
fuck, covered in blood... doesn't need to be our own..." Frost growled.
"Ok." Damon replied coldly. "You'll get your fuck. I'll consider it payment-in-
full for this present." Damon walked forward, to stare down at the creature
who'd tormented him. "And, you can have your fantasy, too. I'll let you be in
charge. You can have anything you want from me for this. And, you are right...
I do want a bloody revenge." Damon finished.
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Roze was giggling, something she couldn't remember ever doing, since she was a
child, many years ago. But, she was having so much fun, unbelievably, putting
on a bit of a fashion show for Blu. The store had been closed, but Blu had been
able to get it opened just for them, and she had been working on a decision of
what clothes she wanted to try. She had decided she didn't want to be too
dressy, but a little classy and a little casual. She had decided she'd like to
go for something that would work in the in between. She had loved several
outfits that fit the bill, but finally settled for a flowy-legged pair of soft
suede slacks in a medium gray tone and a jasmine blue cashmere t-style top. She
picked up some soft gray suede stack-heeled short boots. She had finished with
a bit of color for her lips and eyes. Blu added a rose quartz gold watch to her
look, then told the clerk they would take all the outfits Roze had liked,
though she had the outfit she wanted for her date.
Roze was astonished at Blu's disregard for prices, as he had spent thousands on
her clothes, but he brushed aside her concern, telling her it was only money,
and it was made to spend. Then, he told the clerk he'd need a coordinating
outfit for himself, as well as the men's version of the watch. She was quick to
comply, and soon Blu had a turquoise short sleeved shirt and some soft gray
linen trousers, as well as some confortable gray silk socks and loafers. His
watch was a perfect match for Roze's. Now, they were ready for that date. Blu
gave them the address for Roze's clothes to be sent, then they were out in the
car and headed in the direction Blu had decided for their date. He made a call
on the phone, and was assured everthing would be ready when they arrived, but
kept it a secret from Roze, giving her a sweet smile when she asked.
Roze was surprised, but delighted, as they drove up to the building, and Blu
told her they needed to go in and take the elevator up to the roof. She had
seen the helicopter on top of the building and figured they were going for a
ride.
"Yes, my lady, we are going for a flight over the city. It is beautiful at
night. Then we will have dinner on a private island, before we go to a museum
opening, or after, whichever you prefer."
"This is so wonderful, Blu. It will be a perfect night. But, let's save dinner,
til after, if you don't mind. I'd prefer the museum before dinner." Roze
smiled.
"Whatever you prefer, pretty lady." Blu took her hand as they entered the
building. "I live to see you happy."
"Well, you have been totally successful tonight then. The evening is perfect,
and you are perfect for me. I think you are what I needed in my life. Thank you
for coming into it at just the right time."
"You are what I've needed for a long time my lady, so thank you." Blu leaned in
and placed a soft kiss on her cheek as the elevator doors closed.
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Damon was breathing hard from his exertions, and his beautiful leather hunting
clothes were streaked with blood. Killing the monster hadn't been as much fun
as he'd thought, hadn't lasted as long as he needed, but it wasn't like he
hadn't enjoyed it. He had started by skinning the bastard, before he'd cut
pieces off him until he had to remove the vital parts. The man was dead long
before he finished cutting him up. And now Frost was waiting for his payment,
eagerly beginning to strip Damon.
Damon stood still and let it happen, then watched as Frost removed his own
clothes. When Frost had finally stripped all his own clothes off he scooped up
blood from the altar and began to run his hands over Damon's flesh, painting
him red with it, before he did the same to himself. Then, he stepped back to
admire his handiwork, walking around Damon, getting a full visual of his naked
body coated with the lifeblood of the bastard who had taken something vital
from him.
Frost could feel the rage flooding his body, as he thought of how that son-of-
a-bitch had gotten to Damon first, had experienced the thrill of being the
first to own the man. Frost hated that someone had taken what was his, and he
felt that Damon was his, that his virginity had been his to take, to own. Yes,
Damon was going to be his, but he hadn't had him first. The only thing that
gave him any satisfaction was the fact that he was going to be the last. Damon
was never going to have another. He wouldn't allow it. And, if Damon was fool
enough to think there would be anyone else, Frost would simply take care of
them, extinguish anyone that ever thought they could touch his property.
"I want to fuck you first, right here, draped over the alter, just a simple
good old-fashioned slamming my dick in you as hard as I can sort of thing. I
want to fuck you hard and violent in his blood. Then, we can go upstairs and
shower and fuck some more, before we move to the bedroom and really get crazy.
The first part is just for me. I don't want to give you any pleasure, I just
want to get off in you. Fucking you in the shower will just be for me too. I
want to hurt you, fuck you hard enough to hurt you, but only for myself. Once
we move into the bedroom, I want to do things to you that will please us both.
I need to see how much pleasure I can make you take. I want to fuck you until
you can't even think anymore, until you beg me to stop, until you promise me
your soul..." Frost hissed.
"I promised you the fucking, but my soul isn't negotiable. All you get is the
body. Do whatever you want to it, but only tonight. Tomorrow it returns to me."
Damon replied.
"What if I refuse to give it back?" Frost asked.
"You don't have that option. It's a one-night only deal. If you try to own it,
you better be prepared to kill or be killed. I owe you nothing after tonight.
You will be paid-in-full." Damon said quietly.
"Well, we better get started then. I intend to get my money's worth." Frost
smiled. He shoved Damon over to the alter. "Now, be an Angel and spread your
wings over that. In fact, spread that whole delicious body over it, spread
yourself wide open for me. Now, I'm gonna take you rough and raw, and you
aren't gonna enjoy it. But, that's the point. This is for me. The only lube I'm
using is blood, and part of that blood will be yours. You are gonna tear, but
it's to be expected, under the circumstances." Frost said. "Come on, Angel. Be
my sacrifice." Frost chuckled, coldly.
Damon went face down on the altar, without a word, spreading his arms and legs
wide, clenching his fists as his only confort for what he knew was coming. This
was a pain he didn't want, but he had no choice. He always paid his debts.
Frost stepped forward, catching one of Angel's wrists. "It's not that I don't
trust your word, baby. But, I really want there to be no resistance," Frost
clamped the wrist into a cuff, then moved to do the same to his other limbs,
leaving Angel spead-eagled on the stone. Then, he brought out the strait razor,
slicing it across one of Damon's wrists, producing an alarming amount of blood,
but only a shallow cut. He ran his hand over the slice, coating it well, before
he moved to his cock, and made the transfer.
Damon hadn't even let out a hiss, at the painful cut, and ignored the burning
pain of it after. But even he couldn't hold in the moan when Frost used one
hand to part his buttocks, before pushing the blood coated hard cock against
his tight star, forcing it inside him, and pushing hard until he'd fully seated
himself in the tightness and heat. The agonizing pain had Damon pulling at the
cuffs, a reflex only, but unable to lesson the pain. He'd felt himself tearing
as the large hard cock had forced itself up his rectum, and now all he could
feel was an agonising fiery pain.
Frost didn't wait for his body to adjust, pulling his cock out to the tip, then
slamming it back in, hearing the strangled moan that escaped Damon's lips,
making him smile, as he repeated the movement, and kept going, fucking into the
tightness as hard and deep as he could, grinding down into that ass, just to
hear the pain. He rode Damon ruthlessly, enjoying every cry that escaped his
lips. And, as his orgasm approached, he ground down into that body as deeply as
he could, holding himself pressed tight, until he'd emptied every drop inside
it, before he pulled himself free. He walked around the limp body, surveying
the damage, satisfied, before he released the cuffs.
Damon wanted to curl up and lick his wounds, feeling so miserable. But, it was
not to be.
"Come on. Get your ass up. We're going upstairs now. It's time for my next
fuck. In a shower, remember. We need you cleaned up, so I can erase that
bastard from you and start fresh by planting myself there. After that, we can
both have some fun." Frost headed for the stairs, not waiting for Damon, fully
expecting him to follow, even if he had to drag himself.
Damon managed to lift himself off the altar, almost collapsing beside it,
feeling the blood run down his thighs, along with the other man's seed. His
head spun and he felt dizzy, but he forced himself to stumble to the crumbling
staicase, and start the agonizing climb, having to crawl at times, but he
finally managed to make it to the top, where Frost was waiting impatiantly.
"Took you long enough." he sneered at the gasping man at his feet. "I'm ready
for that next fuck. Let's get in the shower. Looks like I'm gonna have to
fasten you to the wall, since you don't look like you can just stand there and
take it like a fucking man. What a pathetic bitch, you are." Frost turned
around, heading down the hall to the spare bathroom, where he had all the
equipment for entertainment. This wasn't his first rodeo, after all. Damon
simply crawled behind him, unable to force himself back to his feet.
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"Would you like to come in?" Roze asked, as Blu stood in the doorway of her
high rise apartment. The night had been fabulous, so far, and she wasn't ready
for it to end.
"Would you like for me to come in, pretty lady?" Blu smiled. "And, before you
answer, just remember their may be consequences for your actions. I don't come
without a few complications."
"Damn the complications. I do have some ideas, but I'll deal with them later.
I'm not exactly without complications myself. I'd like to see if we can work
them out together." Roze husked.
"Well, ok, then. You were forewarned." Blu stepped inside, closing the door
behind him. Then, he pulled Roze into his arms, and their mouths found each
other and became one. Both pulled back a few minutes later, breathing hard.
"Bedroom...?" Blu asked and Roze nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him in
that direction.
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Damon let out a low moan as Frost thrust up into him hard again, still not used
to the pain. When he had drug himself into the bathroom, he'd stopped at the
shower and Frost had drug him inside it, before hauling him onto his feet,
hissing into his ear that he'd better stand the fuck up long enough to be
fastened into the damn wall rings. Somehow Damon had managed to keep himself
upright until the locks clicked in place, before his strength gave out and he
sagged down, hanging suspended from the concrete wall of the shower. Frost had
turned on the water then, letting it cascade from the ceiling over the both of
them. The water had actually been a relief for Damon, it's warmth soaking into
his skin, which had been chilled from his time in the underground room, plus it
had washed away all the tacky dried blood from his body, even rinsing the blood
off his thighs.
Frost had grabbed a bottle of body wash and finished the job, cleaning the
blood from both their bodies. Damon hadn't been able to stay silent when Frost
had forced some of the soap up inside his raw rectum, ramming fingers inside
him to scrub him out. Frost had explained that he was cleaning out the old so
he could fuck the new into him, but making sure he removed all the soap from
inside his hole as well, saying the water was all the help he'd get, before he
had gripped his hips, lifting his ass into a better receiving position,
pressing his cock between the buttocks, and thrusting in and up hard. Damon had
let out a strangled cry of pain, trying to jerk away.
But, he was securely fastened. Frost had only let out a laugh, gripped his hips
tighter, lifting his ass a bit more, then jerked it back as he rammed his cock
forward and up into him again, causing him to howl out, as his raw swollen hole
was forced open to admit the brutal invader. Frost set a brutal pace, holding
Damon in the perfect position so he could get the deepest penetration, as he
jackhammered into his raw rectum, until Damon could no longer hold back his
agonized screams, and they echoed through the room as Frost pounded into him.
He had passed out before Frost finally reached his orgasm, pumping his seed
into him for a second time, finally claiming the body as his own, having erased
all the essence of it's first intruder from the battered walls. Now, they were
owned by Frost.
Damon wasn't conscious when Frost turned the water off, or when he released him
from the wall, lifting him into his arms, cradling him to his naked chest, and
placing soft kisses on his lips. Frost carried his conquered warrior into his
bedroom, lying his naked body down gently on the soft linen of the bed. Then,
he got out the healing creams and oils, rubbing them into the raw rings at the
wrists and ankles, before working them between the buttocks, into the anus,
soothing the torn swollen mouth of his entrance. He coated the acrylic wand
with the healing cream, before easing it into the abused hole, sliding it up
into the rectum, coating the battered walls with it's healing potions, before
easing it back out of the body. Later, this toy would be used to give the most
ultimately exquisite painful pleasure.
Frost then brought out his pleasure oils, choosing a lavender scent, and giving
a full-body deep muscle massage, working the oils deep into the luscious skin
beneath his fingers. In a few hours, Damon's body would be recovered enough
from the claiming to be ready to accept the lovemaking of the ownership. And,
Frost was going to make sure Damon understood he was now owned by Frost. Frost
had his mate, and he was going to have it understood by all that this was his
territory now. Damon wasn't giving out any more free passes. He belonged to
Frost now.
Frost planted a soft kiss on the sleeping lips, with a smile. "Take a couple
hours rest, love. Then, you are going to give up all your pleasure to me. I am
going to hear your screams of ecstacy soon, as I make you beg for me. Sweet
dreams, my darling, sweet dreams."
***** Burning Angel *****
Damon let out a soft moan as he was turned over onto his back, his sore body
bringing him back to a conscious state, which he wasn't sure he wanted. But, he
wasn't a coward and would face things head on, so he forced his aching eyes to
open, just shuttered slits against the light, which was actually a soft dimness
that didn't threaten his corneas.
He wasn't surprised to meet the eyes of his demon locked on him. The bastard
had certainly taken his pound of flesh, so to speak, but Damon knew it wasn't
enough for the bastard. And, he had promised him one night... which wasn't
finished yet, he was sure. He hoped his body could take the abuse.
"...ahhh... that look..." Frost sighed. "You need not strengthen yourself for
any more abuse. I told you true what I planned. It is now time for the
pleasure... though I have to say there was pleasure for me already... but now I
want to feel your pleasure, as well. I want to own that. I want to feel your
pleasure all the way to my soul... and I want you to feel me as you have never
felt anyone before."
"I think I've felt you already... " Damon rasped. "It wasn't a pleasant
experience."
"That was just a punishment for your prior rejection. You earned that. Now... I
want you to know what you missed with your rejection. Now... you will really
feel me. I will own you by the end of this night... that is a gaurantee. And,
you will crave me... crave the feel of me inside you... You will become an
addict for what I offer. And, I will make sure you get your fix, baby..." Frost
purred... his voice sending a shiver through Damon that he didn't understand.
"....not sure if my body can take any more fucking... to be perfectly honest...
" Damon retorted, to distract himself from the effect of that voice. "But... I
don't renege on any deals... so if you kill me... at least I will be paid-in-
full..."
"I won't kill you, doll. Your mental state may suffer some deterioration... as
I will completely overwhelm your senses as I takes you to heights of pleasure
you have never known. I've been waiting all my life for you... for the chance
to give you everything I have... and now it will happen. My only regret is that
you were tarnished before I could own you." Frost smiled.
"You will never own me..." Damon stated. "That is an impossibility. No one will
ever own me. All you can do is have me... and only for this night. Once my debt
is paid... we will never see each other again. If you try to invade my life,
one of us will die. I won't be arrogant enough to think I am invincible again.
But, I gaurantee you, that you won't have an easy win... you will wear the
scars of our battle." Damon vowed.
"I wouldn't want you if you were an easy win..." Frost said softly. "I don't
want what anyone else could have. I want what nobody else even dares dream of.
And, that is what you are. And... that is why you are going to be mine."
Frost shoved a hand under Damon's head, tangling fingers in his curls, jerking
his head up, until they were so close they could inhale each others breath.
"Now, let us finish this night in a manner worthy of the both of us." His lips
crushed down on Damon's, tongue diving into the wet warmth of invitation, and,
after a instant of hesitation, from the shock of it, Damon's own tongue met his
in the battle. A minute later Frost pulled away, a grin of victory... knowing
Damon most definitely wanted more of what he had to offer.
Damon literally kicked himself in the ass, as he panted hard from the kiss.
And, he could feel the hardness of his own cock as well as Frost's, as it
throbbed against his own. His only consolation was that Frost was just as hard
as he was... just as aroused. So... he wasn't the only one who needed it. He
just didn't understand why this arrogant bastard had to be the one to do this
to him.
"...well... are you going to fuck me..." Damon gasped, irritated. "Or are you
going to just grin like an idiot..."
"Don't worry, baby. I'm going to do more than just fuck you. I'm going to take
you to heaven, and burn you in the flames of hell, before I'm done with you.
And, I will make you beg for me, before the night is over." Frost ran a hand
down Damon's body, gripping his cock hard and giving it a quick stroke, causing
Damon to gasp again, as he pulled his head back for a little more oral
exploration.
Frost began with the mouth, tongues tangled in exploration, until each knew the
taste of the other and it was locked in memories, and Frost bit hard into
Damon's bottom lip, then lapped the blood with his tongue. Damon wasn't about
to remain passive, and returned the favor, causing Frost to grin... enjoying
the total participation from his conquest. Then his mouth slid across his face,
stopping for a quick hard nip to the ear lobe, then swirling his hot wet tongue
in the interior, lapping it generously, before returning to suck hard on the
lobe like it was a teat being nursed by a hungry baby... causing Damon to
squirm delightfully. Frost gave it plenty of attention, then moved to the other
side to deliver the same treatment to it's twin.
By the time he'd turned each appendage plump and swollen, he had moved his
mouth down to Damon's throat, where he sucked and bit, and marked his prize
completely. Damon was moaning now, unable to hold back, with the fingers of
pleasure running through his body. Frost knew just how much pain to give him to
achieve the ultimate pleasure. The teeth drew blood, that was lapped up
eagerly, but they never went deep enough to scar. Frost wanted to mark, but not
put ugly scars on his possession. He enjoyed the beauty far too much to mar it.
His next target was the already hard nipples straining for attention... which
he had no intention of denying them.By the time he was finished they were rosy
red, puffy as ripe cherries, ready for plucking. He grinned down at the mess
writhing beneath him, Damon looked beautiful beyond imagination... and there
was still a long way to go. He couldn't wait to see him totally wrecked. But,
there was no way Damon was going to get there if he didn't do something to
ensure it. Frost lifted himself off Damon... causing the man to gasp and stare
at him with lust-filled confused eyes... unable to articulate a question.
Frost went over to his closet, opening it to reveal more doors, which he opened
to reveal his treasure trove of erotica. He pulled several things out for now.
Everything in his arsenal would be used in the future. But he had special toys
for tonight only.
Frost brought over the leather cuffs, fastening them to Damon's wrists, then
locking them to the bed. Damon couldn't free himself without the keys to their
locks. Now all his pleasure would be controlled by Frost. Frost next fastened
the leather cock ring around his straining erection... couldn't have him
accidentally coming too soon. Frost would also control that. Damon would come
when Frost allowed it. Next, he lubricated his toy well, then eased it up
inside Damon. It was small enough to not be painful, but was still a nice snug
fit. Frost positioned it perfectly, before turning it on... setting the
vibrations against the prostate. Damon immediately began to squirm, his body
alive with pleasure coursing through him.
Now, everything was perfect, as Frost climbed back into the bed, to continue.
Frost was going to drive Damon to the edge of insanity with pleasure... then he
was going to let him drop. He was going to gaurantee that Damon would be coming
back for more, because the man would not be able to get what he needed from
anyone else.That was always the case with addiction
Frost's mouth continued it's torment, in addition to the vibrator lodged in
Damon's ass, buzzing against his prostate softly. The lips slid along ribs, as
teeth nipped painfully, then stopped at the dip of the belly button, wallowing
the tongue in it, and sucking at it, increasing the streams of pleasure rushing
through Damon's body. Frost played there for a while before he moved down to
the thighs, working his way up them slowly, kissing and biting... marking. His
mouth finally found it's way to the tender flesh between the silky thighs,
teeth worrying at the thin scar on one side of the scrotum, knowing it would be
particularly sensitive, making Damon squirm even more, panting, hissing through
his teeth at the added arousal. He wanted to come so bad... but was unable to
do so. He didn't know how much of this he could take.
Damon let out a shriek when Frost's mouth unexpectedly came down on his cock,
engulfing it completely, down to the base. Then Frost began to suck him hard,
sliding up and down his hard length teeth scraping along it's underside. He
kept at it until Damon was thrashing on the bed, moaning loudly, desperate for
a release Frost wasn't going to give him yet. Frost pulled the vibrator from
it's snug home... replacing it with his mouth, tongue pushing up into the tight
sheath, feeling it clench hard on his appendage, with a chuckle , and causing
Damon to arch off the bed as a desperate cry tore from him, before his ass
pushed back against Frost, trying to get the tongue deeper inside him.
Frost was quite accomadating, thrusting his tongue repeatedly into that tight
hungry heat, until Damon was whining and writhing against the hungry mouth,
devouring his most private place.
"Noooo....!" Damon wailed, when Frost pulled away, squirming helplessly.
"Ohh... you liked that, heh." Frost chuckled. "Well, you are going to like the
next part even more, baby. It's time to drive it home... so to speak."
Frost began to coat his cock with lube, as he watched Damon squirming on the
bed, then he grabbed the wedge pillow off the floor, pushing it beneath Damon's
hips, them wedged himself between those sleek thighs, gripping under both knees
and lifting them, pushing them back toward the heaving chest, lining his cock
up with the entrance to heaven for him. He entered Damon with one hard thrust,
causing him to cry out in pain.
But, Frost was too experienced to let it stop there. He began to thrust hard,
sliding over the pleasure nub again and again, and soon Damon was matching him
thrust for thrust. And, Frost fucked him hard, until he was begging for
release, and continued until he was screaming for it... until there were only
screams, because words were impossible... and then he unfastened the leather
cock strap and sent him over the edge.
His cock pounded into the jerking body beneath him, thrusting hard against the
muscles clenching his cock so desperately, through his own orgasm, as well as
Damon's... until Damon was a helpless mess beneath him. He pulled the wedge
from beneath Damon's hips, letting him sink into the matress beneath him,
exhausted and gasping. He slid over to the side, and reached up to unlock the
bound wrists, letting them slide limply to the bed. Then, he lay down next to
his lover, hands sliding slowly over sweat-slick skin, easily caressing his
conquered warrior.
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
Blu woke slowly, turning to face Roze, who still slept, the morning's rays
blocked from her bedroom with heavy tapestry-patterned drapes which matched the
bed linen, in a beautiful light silver-sage color. Her decorating was tasteful,
he thought. But, her best decoration was herself, as she lay nude, snuggled in
close against him, her head using his shoulder as a pillow. Her lean athletic
body didn't look so hard now. And, his skin looked so pale against her dark
golden tan. But they fit so well together, looking like an expensive painting
with their contrasts. And, they had fit together so well last night, as they
rocked in perfect harmony.
Her perfectly coiffed multi-toned blond bob was a wistful mess right now, after
their heated night. She would probably think she looked a wreck, but he thought
she had never looked more beautiful. He didn't believe he could ever find her
anything but beautiful, no matter what she looked like. This was the woman he
had bee waiting for. She was it for him, and he hoped she was having similar
thoughts about him. Blu could understand why Damon trusted her to have his back
on the job, because he trusted her with his heart in the real world.
Blu reached over to brush a lock of blond hair away from her face, exposing an
expanse of tan cheek. She seemed to have shed the years as she slept, and now
resembled the girl she must have been years ago, as all her worries and tension
had melted away her mask. He liked her like this, though he knew her mask was
an important part of her job. That toughness had protected her. But, he was
happy she could let herself go and become soft with him... that she trusted him
enough to do that.
Blu knew that soon she would wake, and she would shower and put on her mask,
ready to face the world again, back to her job, that she was so very good at.
But, he knew that under that tough facade lived this sweet little girl who
melted his heart and made him young again, with the promise of life laid out in
front of him. She made his heart beat just a little faster to think of her, and
the thought of seeing her again.
"hmmm... hello..." Roze breathed softly against his shoulder, opening her eyes
slowly. "What are you thinking about so deeply?"
"....you..." Blu smiled.
"nice..." she whispered, snuggling a little deeper into his shoulder, with her
own smile, knowing by the sound in his voice just what he was thinking of her,
and she was pleased.
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
Davis was really in a bad mood and even Joann couldn't get him out of his funk.
It started with the fact that his number one assassin had been out of touch for
so long. He knew Damon's last assignment had gone to hell, and he had almost
been killed himself. Davis found it hard to believe anyone could get the best
of that killer... even a rogue hunter. And, the sexual aspects of the
'incident' had made him totally unconfortable.
Sexual assault had never been something his assassins ever worried about
before, as their own lives were the concern. And, while Davis was well-aware of
how attractive Damon was, he had never thought anything like that was a
possibility. Hell, all of his assassins were attractive. Though they hadn't
been hired for that reason, their talant being the major attraction for him,
none of them could be considered anything but attractive.
And, then, the mysterious disappearance from the hospital and his absence from
the agency for so long. Davis had not heard word one from the man... not even
bothering to check in with his boss, to let him know if he was still an
employee. That kept Davis on edge, not knowing if he had lost his top
assassin.Then one of his agents had just turned in her resignation. That
petite, brunette, Blaze, had suddenly decided to go off and get herself
engaged, to some sort of royalty, of course, and then made the decision to give
up her job completely. Agents weren't easy to come by and it would be a bitch
trying to replace her. The job wasn't the usual... and all of his agents were
super-intelligent investigators. So... the loss of any one of them was a major
problem.
And, now his latest pain in the ass was when Roze had turned down an
assignment, saying she had a personal engagement to take care of and would be
taking a few days off. Roze was his number two assassin... so without his two
top people to call on, Davis was more than a little annoyed. If he got one more
bit of bad news he was going to explode.
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