A Resurgent Whore #11
Who Is My Friend?
Welcome to chapter eleven of an ongoing gritty noir series from ‘Sin Street’ created in partnership between Kate Granger and Sissitrix. Chapters published weekly on Friday’s.
Follow a woman’s desperate tale of humiliation starting in a pit of despair before her rebirth, revenge, and resurgence. This series began in a dark place because it must.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
"Max, can you be entirely honest with me?"
"Of course Erin, I'll always do that. What’s going on?"
"Why do you flip and flop, this way and that, changing your damn mind and allowing some overblown moral code to interfere every time you spot a drop of blood or a sawn-off limb?"
"I'm a businessman Erin and forever looking at situations from the perspective of earnings. There isn't much profit in killing people."
"Who did I kill?"
"Holy fuck, Erin. You just left a bloodbath in your wake."
"Yeah, but who did I kill?"
"You caused the deaths of all Franky's men."
"They weren't men. Those corpses have more humanity now as slashed husks than the souls previously occupying them. They were ghouls who died because they raped kids, sold people, and killed hookers they didn't like. The kids' moms and surviving hookers killed them, not me."
"You gave the order."
"I told Handjob Hannah to get them out of my way. She and the girls chose the means by which to do it."
"What about Chester? Stubby is half the man he once was."
"He's out of the way too and probably a lot happier for being cut down to size. Chester is living out every possible freaky fantasy he had stored up and that will continue so long as information flows."
"What's your point, Hannah?"
"I didn't kill anybody yet. I may well do it but I'm wondering if you have the stomach for any of this."
I left my point hanging, having raised it to ensure we were on the same page. Max was a strong man, made feeble by an unquenchable thirst for money. I wanted to be wealthy as well but no way would I veer from my primary goal.
When I pulled into the small, walled parking lot outside my house, a large SUV was obstructing across the front door beside a lion's statue. I said nothing about it to Max, not wishing to alarm a blindfolded man or set him loose to help protect us.
I removed a pistol from my bag, slipping that inside the front waistband of my pants.
"Step out of the SUV, hold my hand, and walk forward until I tell you to stop."
"Okay. I can't wait to see this place."
"It's not for sale, Max."
"How do you know?"
"Because I own it."
Once inside my house of horror, I removed Max's blindfold. We could have been in any one of a thousand large properties in the city, and my boyfriend wouldn't know because every window was boarded. It smelled stale with a mild whiff of urine so I made a mental note to check the air filtration system.
A loud bang followed by a scream stunned me momentarily. I pulled out my pistol, released the safety, and ran to where Steve was incarcerated in his glass cell, almost kicking the door open as I raced through it.
"How the fuck?"
"Jesus Erin, what the fuck have you done?"
"Nothing at all. I didn't do any of this."
Steve Pincer screamed the craziest blood-curdling howl I'd ever heard. He crouched on the floor in a tight ball, wedged into a corner of his cell, with his head and ears covered over.
There was blood spatter everywhere on the ceiling of Steve's cell with a body dangling above it, hung by the neck, freshly eviscerated, and with their guts dangling, still bouncing off the glass.
I glanced across to where a shaft of light streamed into my house from a gap between wooden boards where someone must have entered, wreaked havoc, and then left. There was nobody there now but the murderer’s departure was definitely recent.
Daubed on the glass in bloody handwriting was a message written for me.
Stop Your Hunt Stupid Cunt!
I glanced at Max, who stared at the blood and gore in horror, and surprisingly, wonder. The whole scene looked like a sick sculpture at some crazy art gallery.
"Well, I've definitely irritated someone, right Max?"
"Yes, you have. Who the fuck would do this Erin?"
"I'm just glad it wasn't you, sweetheart."
"What wasn’t me, Erin?"
"Red October."
He laughed loudly, almost hysterically, pointing at me as though it were a great wheeze and I was the comedian telling it. When Max saw I wasn't joking, his demeanor changed and he seemed threatening, angry, and shocked.
"How the fuck could you even think that of me? I was there for you at the hospital and have been ever since. Maybe I'm not as bloodthirsty as you are but never a fucking serial killer."
"Calm down, Max."
"No, I fucking won't calm down."
"You'd better shut the fuck up now dear boy, or a big-time thrashing is in store for you."
Max rubbed his chin, then studied the room to better understand what had happened. The body dangling from my ceiling was unknown to me, but I hoped he might recognize the corpse.
"It's my head of security."
"He's never been in here."
"I asked him to snoop around to find out more about what you were doing. He must have found your hideaway, entered and this happened."
"And Red October? How did that happen?"
"I have no idea, Erin, honestly."
"Honesty Max? You had me followed for Christ’s sake."
"Only to keep you safe."
Steve's whining was getting on my nerves so I activated the shower for ten seconds, soaking him in urine from Hannah’s Headquarters. He stopped screaming for one reason, realized what was happening, and started for another but at least when I shut everything down, I had his attention.
I also had the shock of my life.
"Call Sissitrix and ask them to rush here with an ambulance and mobile pod please, Max."
"Okay, why."
"The blood writing is inside the glass cell. It’s Steve’s."
I saw his hand tremble violently while getting the call through to Sissitrix. As I watched Steve Pincer carefully, catching his eyes, I nodded toward him doing my best to offer a man I hated some kindness in my expression.
A lot of blood pooled at his feet and I feared we might be too late.
"You're bleeding Steve. Show me where the injury is and I'll help you."
"It's you... they want you."
"Who?"
"You and Max. They want you both dead. Sin Street won't be yours after all, fucking whore."
"Shut up Steve. I'm the only person standing between you and a tragic death."
Steve held up both hands with a macabre twisted smile stretched from one ear to the other. I saw bite marks on both wrists where he'd torn the skin open using his teeth. One vein in his right arm was ruptured and spurting wildly, while the left bled profusely.
He cackled like a maniac, slamming his wrists off the glass.
"Steve, look me in the eye... Steve! Steve! It's important you listen to me."
"What the fuck do you want Erin... I'll escape you and this fucked up, bat-shit crazy world in a few minutes. He told me to write the message and said it was my exit route."
"You have kids right Steve?"
"Yeah, what of it? They live with their Mom, far out of your reach. They’ll be fine after I’m gone because, let’s face it Erin, I’m not much of a Dad or husband."
"Okay, Steve... listen to me. If you don't wrap your shirt around that wound on your right arm, the next occupants inside this cell will be your kids and the body above will be their Mom. Just picture that you vile cunt."
His eyes popped out on stalks as Steve stared at me in utter disbelief. I nodded, kneeling down at his level, soaking Max's security chief's blood into my trousers. Steve's face squashed against the glass and I saw tears welling for the only thing in the world that beast treasured.
"Do it now Steve."
"You wouldn't hurt my babies."
"Damn right I would after what you did to me. Now do as I fucking say, or your whole family is dead."
His verve for life was invigorated and Steve tore off his shirt wrapping it tightly around his wrist. He looked horrified and suddenly afraid of dying.
"Hold your wrist above your head."
"Okay, but please don't hurt my babies. I'll be good, Erin, I promise, I'll behave from now on."Â
Steve was a gibbering wreck and I thought Max was headed that way as well. He couldn't take his eyes off a former security chief and friend dangling from the ceiling like a sack of meat, dribbling shit, piss, and blood over the glass below.
Sissitrix was effective as ever, arriving quickly, marching in front of four medical technicians. They nodded at me, and curled their mouth into a scowl, considering what looked like my handiwork.
I unlocked the glass cage using my key code, allowing the technicians to collect Steve before they escorted a broken man to an ambulance and a mobile pod outside. Sissitrix turned to face me wearing a less than pleased expression.
"What happened here, Erin?"
"A discussion for another day but I assure you it wasn’t me who murdered. I must leave now and meet someone right away."
"I'll assume you want this transgressor healed?"
"Yes, Sissitrix. I'll arrange for us to meet soon and explain everything."
"You should clean this place up, it smells like piss. What about the body?"
"Collect it tomorrow morning and tidy him up as best you can, then arrange a funeral with the wife please."
"I don't do after-death services aside from organ harvesting as with Brian."
"Can you make an exception and give the man a decent burial?"
"For you Erin, I'll do that."
I took one last look around the room and its gruesome festival of blood and gore. Red October had danced inside my home and that displeased me. Our serial killer was evolving, demonstrating with bloody finality that they might not remain bound by the rules of their game.
Max looked sick but I couldn't blame or accuse him of any weakness this time.
"Can you get your team over here to secure the place, sweetheart? There isn't a reason to keep my secret any longer."
"What about the glass cube and cleaning up the room?"
"Wipe off the message and tell your men they never saw it."
"What about the rest of the gore? This place will be overrun with rats in a matter of hours. It's already fucking ripe."
"Get Tony Wrilks in after the body is removed tomorrow, but the cube stays. I don't want anything at this scene touched until I say so. Only one person may enter and I'll message you who that is and when they'll be here."
"Okay, Erin, I'll call the Trash Man although I fucking hate him. Are you and I good now?"
"Yeah, we are. I have someplace to be right now, shall we meet later back home?"
"Yes. You can make good on your promise to fuck me. It's been too long and I'm tired of fucking Chloe."
"What about the Fuck Machine on your toilet wall, you seem well enamored with that?"
"It's fantastic but I miss the warmth of your body. That sensual component is so important as well as all the toys sweetheart."
I sauntered up to my boyfriend, smiling sweetly, feeling slightly ashamed and surprised by how easily I could kiss him, considering our grisly surroundings. I stroked his cheek, drawing all of Max's attention away from his dead friend. The harrowed look in his eyes told me I'd misjudged my boyfriend and treated him poorly.
"I'll look after you tonight, Max. I promise. I'm sorry for being such a spiteful bitch."
"I'm sorry for going too softly on our enemies. This is a hard lesson learned for me."
"Would you like to learn another lesson later, sweetheart?"
"In our bedroom, Erin?"
"Yes, sweetheart. A little time spent with your head and tongue between my legs, reflecting on and dismissing this awful day."
He sighed and took one final, sad look at the bodyguard who was bested by Red October.
"Okay, Erin. You take my SUV and I'll use Graham's truck parked by the lion."
"Okay, sweetheart."
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my heart pounded. I kept my cool and made sure Max didn't suspect me of catching his error. Since he was blindfolded until we were inside the house, there was no way he could know about where I had parked or what vehicle was nearby.
"Thank you, honey. I'll see you later at home."
"I'll wait up."
I needed to get space away from everyone and talk to Bliss. In the SUV I connected my phone to the infotainment system and speed dialed her number.
"Hi, Erin."
"Get to the house for your scoop right away. I've had a crime scene perfectly preserved only for you."
"Is Pincer dead?"
"No, but he's not doing so well. I can't chat right now. Leave my name and Pincer’s out of your news bulletin."
"What the fuck is going on Erin? First Franky Obin's place looks like an abattoir and now this?"
"Franky's guys had it coming. The crime scene at the house was done by Red October."
"Are you sure?"
"No Bliss, I'm pumping my gums for some exercise. Of course, I'm fucking sure. It's either Red October or a copycat. Get over there and do your job."
"Okay, Erin. I'll combine the two incidents. Rivers Of Blood At Sin Street."
I disconnected the call, focusing on the wasteland I'd chosen to drive through, to avoid traffic on main roads. Max's SUV was getting a thrashing, much like the one I wanted to give him myself.
"Lying cunt!"
I screamed, smashing my hands into the steering wheel repeatedly, and in an absolute rage.
"Cunt!"
Just when I thought Max was my trusty sidekick again, he did something unfathomable, annihilating my confidence. I was alone in the fight, totally fucked off, and ready for a murder spree of my own.
When I slammed on the brakes at Underground, I was in no mood for games. I strode past Max's security team, glaring at two guys who were about to frisk me.
"Where is Rex?"
"Room four, ma'am. He's being seen by Diana Von Rigg."
"I don't fucking care."
I tapped in a key code Max had given me to open every door in the club, when I stepped inside the darkened room, an alluring Dominatrix turned and looked at me, unsurprised by my incursion.
"I was expecting you, Erin."
"Really?"
"I figured you'd had a busy day, what with all the blood and gore. You probably want to see this fucking naughty boy, but when you're through I have a strong knee and drilled wooden spanking paddle, both with your name on them."
"Maybe another time Diana. I'll speak with Rex but it looks like he's trussed up. Is he even conscious?"
"Of course darling... they’re always aware, otherwise, what would be the point? How can they atone and worship me while sleeping? I’m all they care about when they are incarcerated by my hand."
Rex was cocooned in a full-length leather sleeping harness with eight heavy steel buckles and leather straps wrapping around his body, equally interspaced from the neck to his ankles. He was strapped in tight, bound like an Egyptian Mummy.
"Can he talk?"
"Do you see the tiny chain on the front of Rex's head harness?"
"Yes."
"That's a sink plug. Just pull that out and he can speak. I'll allow you half an hour alone, then I'd like a chat while that naughty little fucker dangles for a while longer."
Diana left the room and I was surprised at how well sound insulated it was. A light buzzing in my head, in the absence of noise felt disconcerting. I walked over to Rex and pulled the plug out of his solid leather mask.
"Hi Erin, it's nice to finally meet you."
"You too Rex. Are you a control freak?"
"Definitely. This is my nightly therapy. I must cede control through a power exchange or I cannot sleep."
"But why hang upside down?"
"That's temporary and only until Mistress Diana has one of the working girls come in and feed me. She doesn't do sex herself, more's the pity."
"Feed you?"
"This is a perfect way to devour pussy while the lady stands with her legs wide apart. My mask is removed of course."
"I don't know Rex. It looks to me like you've made yourself an easy target."
"I've slept this way ever since... well, I'm sure you can guess when. You're sure to have done your research."
"Okay, umm, I'm not sure this is a great way for us to get acquainted. You're upside down... and, well, I'm not."
"You could feed me instead of one of the girls. I have an expert tongue."
I was aroused and having been due to fuck Max, I could really do with a nice tongue before getting a stiff cock inside me, but infidelity at this time, especially with a new employee wasn't a good idea.
"Not on our first date, Rex. Shall I get you some help to escape?"
Rex laughed and that amused me by the way he wriggled like a maggot dangling from an angler's hook. A sudden tearing sound surprised me and I saw a sharp knife blade slice through the leather as though the sleepsack were paper.
He rolled backward out of the shredded restraint like a gymnast dismounting the parallel rings, hitting the floor almost silently and with his knife held high, ready to strike. His body looked powerful, like the gymnast that landed, lithe, with striated, bulging muscles.
Fucking hell, he's beautiful.
I felt instantly aroused and wished to partake of a fruit I'd forbidden to myself. His cock was enormous, dangling like a fire hose, thick and gnarly with huge bulging veins, like it was partly engorged, showing interest but not desperation.
"To whom is your loyalty, Rex?"
"Whoever pays me. As I understand it, that is you, Erin."
"It is. Have you ever had two paymasters at the same time or would you."
"Never."
I circled around him, watching every delicious flinch and twitch, enjoying a magnificent man hewn from granite by the gods.
"Will you be loyal?"
"To a certain extent, Erin, yes."
"What limitations do you set on that loyalty."
"I answer only to you, take shit from nobody, including you and I won't persecute innocents."
"That's very good Rex. I notice your cock is getting harder."
"You're a beautiful woman and are filling the room with a delicate arousal that will soon drip down your thighs. I can smell your gusset nearly overflowing. I’d love to dine there."
"You're quite a naughty boy... but yes, that's true. I am very turned on right now, Rex."
He was a primal man, sweating pure testosterone, possibly able to get a girl pregnant with a drop of that delicious perspiration. I gripped his cock, and slipped my thumb under his foreskin, rubbing the glans underneath, enjoying watching his pupils dilate as quickly as his cock engorged.
I withdrew the veneer-coated thumb, and raised it to my nostrils, knowing they betrayed me by flaring wide open. I licked his thick pre-cum before sucking it all, enjoying its salty flavor that spread quickly on my lips, tongue, mouth, and throat, burning delightfully.
"Be a good boy for Erin and you'll have everything you wish for Rex."Â
Next Chapter:
When you support Indie Authors, your money goes to real people and the most creative remain unconstrained by convention or big brands.
Our story gets wilder and we are pushing boundaries. The mask and daubed handwriting artwork is something I would love to pin to my wall. I love it all, thank you partner.
And then there was Eleven....The Street is beginning to catch fire in this one! WOW! There's top-shelf stuff in every scene in this installment, and finally we see Rex the Mercenary, with his peculiar relaxation method, which I have to say is a hell of a lot more creative that the Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction thing, which I tried once and could never get into. My therapist pushed me to sign up for a program at one of our top hospitals here in Philadelphia (Thomas Jefferson University)--went to the first class, and demanded they give me my $500 back, never went again after the first class. I just can't sit for 45 minutes and do absolutely nothing, you know? I'm not only a Scorpio male (which makes me not only totally insane, erratic, eccentric, passionate, psycho, and extreme in everything I do). but a lifelong Type A to the n-th power personality, where everything becomes a competition--a titanic, apocalyptic, climactic, winner-take-all battle! I went in there with the mentality of "I'm gonna be the best goddamn, highest-quality, blow-everyone-else-out-of-the-water meditator in this entire fucking place!" I get the impression that my views aren't exaclty what I'm supposed to be going for in MBSR, so probably best I pulled the ripcord! But I digress, as I often do. Full disclosure--I have no interest in mummifying myself in a leather body bag and hanging myself from the ceiling either--not my "bag."
Sorry, couldn't resist.
So, glad to see that Erin comes right out guns blazin' at ol' Max, whose "I'm just here to make money" reply is lame and baffling--since when is a Gordon Gekko type (which he's trying to hold himself out as, and failing at) squeamish about anything? Love her "why do you flip-flop" question. Kate, you had me going for a second with her concealing the pistol--thought the moment I'd been hoping for all this time would finally come when they got inside--double-tap to the base of the skull, bye-bye Max. The Pincer Steve going nuts chewing open his wrists, Red October gutting Max's security chief and those macabre details leave me wondering. I have a sneaking suspicion that perhaps Max may be Red October--a dissociative personality guy--a vague hunch. Been at the back of my mind now and then over the course of the story, but I bring it up now in the open. Erin broaches the topic, albeit rather tacitly with him, and his reaction is freaky, to say the least. Plus, the vibe Max gives off evokes Norman Bates' off-camera exclamation "Mother, blood!" in "Psycho" after he chops up Janet Leigh in the shower, though Max is more of a basket case than Norman--he's shaking, baby-like, wants to be cuddled by Erin (behaves like a "little" in the BDSM world--the whole submissive thing where the sub likes playing the "baby" with pacifiers, diapers, cribs--that whole kink). Then, there's Erin's catching him in his knowing about the vehicles and the location of where they are. So something's not right (I never trusted the son-of-a-bitch from the start as you know). Looking forward to Erin doing some damage to him when she gets home--maybe some "Enhanced Interrogation Techniques" to find out the whole skinny on what he's really about, what the hell's going on, and just inflicting some gratuitous pain on the little bastard. Perhaps it involves that mask-like apparatus that Sissitrix drew as the lead-off sketch at the top? That's some hardcore bondage gear goin' on there! Looks like something you'd see worn by members of some weird Scandinavian Dark Metal band, Rammstein impersonators, or maybe some guys trying to break into pro-wrestling with a leather gimmick--whatever it is--edgy, cool, dramatic, Gothic, and perfect 10 for any prop/costume design department!
And lastly, but definitely, not least--there are the dark delights of Club Underground. Diana the Domme and Rex the Mercenary and Sub. Must say that two images leapt to mind when I read about how Rex was rigged up. Plus, found surreality of this scene very, very "Twin Peaks." First image was the "Bring out the Gimp" scene from "Pulp Fiction." Second thing was Allen the Pod, and how it spoke with Erin--especially how she had to pull the plug from Rex's mouth to enable him to speak--his manner of speaking was very "formal," very similar to Allen's--then his having a knife in there with him the whole time (which makes the entire bondage thing either academic or pointless--he's armed during the whole thing, with a blade sharp enough to shred the heavy-duty leather he was wrapped up in--so there's no "power exchange" to speak of, but some illusion of it, which Diana has to be in on from the start--they're probably lovers already, so we may be seeing some "bedroom BDSM" with these two). Given Erin's reaction to Rex overall, I think that Max doesn't have long for this world, and that my prediction from a review of an earlier episode that she'd get with Rex or Rex and Diana looks like it may come true.
That's all I've got for Part 11! Had a great time with this one--I enjoyed the intense "Grangerian" eroticism of Erin's face-to-face with Rex after his unveiling--she was taken by surprise by him, and I think she'll be taken by him in the physical sense as well, and perhaps to such an extent that she'll forget about the damn machines. But the machines may ot take kindly to it--therein lies "a rider to the tale," as Judge Holden would say. Another tour de force!