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Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is. Special thanks to goducks111 for his help and making this a better story.
Chapter 1 — HELP!
My phone rings. I look at the name, and immediately I answer my phone. Arthur doesn’t call me often; I am generally calling him because I have a shipment that needs to be moved.
With a slight hesitation, I answer, “Hello Arthur. How can I help you tonight?”
Arthur gives me his patented signature chuckle and then says, “Oh my friend. I have a gift for you. One you will cherish. You owe me no cash. However, someday, I’m going to need a favor. I have an address you want to write down on a piece of paper.”
He pauses while I scramble for pen and paper.
I tell him, “Ok, I’ve a pen and some paper. Continue.”
Arthur says in his rich deep voice, “Corner of 1301 Kedzie and 35th Street is a warehouse. Enter from the east side, there is a big empty room. In thirty minutes, your friend Lester …” I know him, but he is no friend of mine, just a guy I know, and a competitor of Arthur. “… will be there with three friends. They are bringing a cute young female cop there. She’s to be strung up, stripped, fucked until their dicks get sore, and then they’ll kill her.”
I set my pen down, “Why the fuck do I care? Hey, I like these parties, but that’s hardly special enough to get a favor from me. You’re wasting my time. Goodbye, Arthur.”
Arthur is quick to speak again, “Hang on, my friend. You do care about this woman, I guarantee it.”
I laugh at my “friend,” “Arthur, there’s nothing special about any policewomen. They fuck and bleed just like any other woman.”
Arthur then says three words that change my life, “She’s your sister.”
That’s not possible. I was an only child to parents that didn’t want me. I remember the hate they had for me. No way those two had another child. At age eight, they threw me in foster care. I spent ten long years in the world’s most corrupt system. That system taught me how to lie, cheat, steal, and kill. There is no better place to learn how to be a successful criminal if you are smart.
Arthur continues, “One of my guys knew but forgot because he was high. When he saw them take her, he asked to go with. He called me to explain what he knew and where they are going. He knew this information would be worth gold to you.”
I scoff at him, “I don’t have a sister. My parents hated me, no way they ever had another child. She just has the same last name. Thanks for the info, I got better stuff to do.”
Arthur reads for me, “Birth certificate, December 1, 1997, Lynn Anette Portacelli, daughter to Guiseppe and Martha Portacelli, Cook County Hospital, Chicago, Illinois.”
I hang up my phone and run to my car, I am not going to get there in time. I know the area, and it’s about forty minutes away. I have a heavily modified 2011 Ford Crown Victoria, specifically a Police Interceptor. It’s painted black, with black tinted windows, and black rims making for one badass looking car. I get about 800 horsepower without adding NOS.
This is my dream and work car. It’s dark, fast, and handles like a beauty. Oh yeah, it’s heavily modified to my exacting specifications. I break a few speed limits, and I scare the crap out of a few people from my reckless driving. Even with that, I miss the start.
I pull up to the building and slam on my breaks, announcing my presence. The building is your standard turn of the last century brick building that’s three stories tall, high windows that are mostly broken. They have been covered by boards for years. Graffiti tells me that the Four Brothers are the local gang of the week controlling this neighborhood.
I walk in like I own the place. These people know me enough to fear me. They should fear me; I have no attachment to them. A single light is on, and paper litters the floor with various debris and garbage filling most of the room. Hanging in the middle of the room is a woman strung up by two ropes, one on each arm, they go high up into the rafters, and out of sight.
This group is like many gangs in Chicago these days, two black guys, a Mexican, and two Caucasians. Missing is the Arab and his two Asian friends. They’re probably high at a party somewhere and couldn’t be bothered to stop by.
Hanging up by her arms is a woman with a black cloth bag over her head. Her body is naked, red from being spanked, and dirty from her treatment so far. She is young with small breasts. She has the same dark white skin as I do. She is tall and thin with prominent muscles and a toned body. She is screaming at them, trying to make a deal. “Her parents have money.” Oh yes, that will stop them. HA!
Denny, the leader, says to her, “We take all the money we need. It’s a good tight cunt that we want. Yours will do nicely.”
Another man is squeezing her tits as hard as he can, which causes her to scream in agony. A third man, a small bahis firmaları guy, punches his fist into her stomach. That too causes her to scream out in pain. They are annoyed at her noise and slap her face several times.
Denny asks me, “You think we should kill her first? She makes too much noise.”
Oh, this is too easy. Denny knows so little; he deserves to die. You never kill the woman first; you want them fighting, that’s half the fun. However, I take out my gun and point it at the woman. My first bullet goes between Denny’s eyes. Every half second, I pull the trigger, and another of his men die with a bullet between the eyes.
I walk up to Lynn. She is breathing fast, I bet her heart is beating like she is on speed. She is cold. Goose pimples cover her body. I don’t see a bead of sweat. She is pretty, I will give them that. I take out a zip cord. These are used for tying computer cables together, but they are so good on the human body as well. Easy, light, durable, the perfect restraining device? Even law enforcement has a version of the ties. Mine cost me twenty for sixty-nine cents.
She is hanging from the ropes like she passed out. I can’t tell because I can’t see her face. To be safe, I zip tie her feet together. Once I cut her down, I don’t want her running away. Still no resistance or fight. One more test, I squeeze a nipple. Nothing.
I run my hands along her long body. Her skin is soft like a younger woman, and that is surprising since she has so much muscle. I cup her breasts. They are firm like I would expect of B cups. There is no drooping. They stand up straight, at attention for viewing and holding. Yes, these are fun to play with. I prefer more, but these will do.
Ok, the last test. I spread her wide at the knees so I can see her cunt. Pink, tight, she’s hasn’t seen much use. I slide my fingers along her lips, inside and out. I am delicate, if she is awake, she will shudder and possibly orgasm, my fingers are magic. She shakes. I knew it, she is awake. I stick two fingers inside of her snatch and finger fuck her. It takes almost no effort, and she orgasms. She is crying now.
I come up behind her and hold her up by her breasts as I whisper inter her ear, “I can do anything I want to you right now. You are 100% helpless. Before I fuck you good with my porn star size cock, I have two questions for you.”
Lynn is crying and saying, “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t kill me. Please!”
I run my hands over her breasts and inside of her cunt quickly before removing my hands.
It’s 2019, and she was born in December of 1997, that makes her just twenty-one years old but soon to be 22.
I ask with a commanding voice, “How old are you?”
Lynn says without hesitation, “Seventeen.”
I laugh at that. She shudders.
I say with an amused voice, “I really don’t think there are many seventeen-year-olds on the police force. Besides, I’m a career criminal. Do you really think raping a minor would dissuade me from fucking your beautiful body? You want to try again? How old are you?”
Lynn says, “Twenty-one. I’ve been on the force for two weeks, and today my fucking partner sold me out.”
Wow, I didn’t know that. Smart kid to have picked up on that already.
I ask my second question, “Who are your real parents? You only get one shot at this.”
Lynn pauses before saying, “Guiseppi and Martha Portacelli.”
I move in front of her quickly. I want to punch her in the gut. I don’t.
In a rage, I scream, “You lie! What is this? Why are you really here? Is this a joke? This is too easy. Who put you up to this?”
I heard several gunshots from behind me and above. I am struck in my shoulder. Fuck that hurts! In my rage, I spin and shoot the bastard in the heart twice. Their Arab friend was upstairs and just now, walked out and found that I killed his friends. I am bleeding, and I see that there is blood on Lynn. Fuck! I have one hand on my shoulder, and with the other, I use a concealed knife to cut Lynn down.
I zip her hands together and throw her over my healthy shoulder. Fuck this pain. I use my remote to open my trunk and toss Lynn in. She can’t interfere in there. The good old Crown Vic is the world’s best mob car, you can easily get five bodies in the trunk. Lynn is screaming at me.
I’ve had enough of this shitty day.
I shout at Lynn, “I’ve had enough shit out of you. I saved your ass from a gang rape and murder. Then I take a fucking bullet saving your ass. Keep it up and you’ll give me a good reason to put a bullet in you!”
She is quiet now. I close the trunk door and stagger to my seat and get in. I call Larry on my speed dial.
Larry is quiet when he answers in a deep and calm voice, “Yeah?”
I am short with him, “1301 Kedzie and 35th Street. Warehouse. Six bodies. My blood goes out into the street.”
I hear a click, he hung up. A true man of few words. That takes care of the cleanup. He is expensive but does a damn fine job. He is kaçak iddaa a former CSI; he knows his shit.
The next call I make with regret, “Hello Pete. I need your sister again and quick.”
Pete sounds concerned, “Stop by, and I will have her come on over. I haven’t seen her in a while so it will be a good excuse.”
I groggily laugh, “No, my friend, I am too hot for that. I won’t put you at risk. I think it’s only my blood, but I have a woman with me, and she may have been hit. How about my place and have her bring a pint of my type? I’m losing too much.”
Pete asks, “Where are you, you son of a bitch?”
I can’t argue anymore, “1301 Kedzie and 35th Street. Pete, if I die, give it all to Lynn.”
I pass out.
I am woken up by Fey, Pete’s sister. I am in his house on his kitchen table. Fey is a surgeon and lucky for me, was off work.
I spoke first, “Body in my trunk, check her.”
My shoulder is already patched up, and a unit of blood is seeping into me through a needle and a hose.
Pete comes back into the house, carrying a thrashing naked woman over his shoulder. The bag is still securely attached to her head as are the zip ties. She is bleeding from the ties.
Fey screams at Lynn, “Sit still bitch! I have a knife in my hand. I’m a doctor and will help you but only if you stop resisting!”
Lynn stops moving. Fey then comes to me with a sweet smile on her face. WHACK! She slaps my face and presses her finger right on my gunshot wound briefly before she realizes what she is doing. I scream and cry due to the extreme pain.
Pete cocks his gun, and everyone freezes but me, I am still whimpering from the extreme pain.
Pete shouts, “Fey! I don’t care if the dumb ass dumped you. He’s my friend and a fairly decent guy. NO MORE PAIN! Now check out Gary’s new play toy. She may have been shot as well. I saw blood but no leaks.”
Fey is very professional now. All bonds are removed, and the bag is finally taken off her head. They beat her up pretty good. Two black eyes, a bloody lip, and lots of abrasions. She wasn’t shot, it’s my blood on her. She does require stitches in her face from the beating and hands from the zip ties.
In a quick move, she slams Pete’s face with her fist, takes the gun, and now has it drawn on us as she backs up. The gun is pointed at me specifically.
Lynn is cool though, even breathing and in a calm voice, she asks, “Why did you kidnap me, beat me, string me up for a gangbang, and then save me?”
I chuckle, which hurts, before I explain, “When you see my car, you’ll know that the loud screech of brakes slamming, and skidding is my signature entrance. I wasn’t there when you were kidnapped or beaten. I did kill those people and then took this bullet for you because there is a slight chance that if what you say is true, you might be the daughter of Guiseppi and Martha Portacelli. If so, that would make you my little sister.”
The gun fell out of her hand. Pete is quick to retrieve it and tuck it in behind his back.
Lynn stumbles for words, “I don’t … have a brother.”
I tell my story, “I was born to a pair of Freshmen college students. They didn’t want a child; they wanted an education. Religion forced them to keep me. It was hard for them going to school while raising a child. No wild parties and dating for them. That made them resent me. Their only joy in the world was hurting me and making me feel bad. On my eighth birthday, they put me in the foster care system, and I never saw them again.
“My life got worse from there. I stayed in group facilities. You can spell that J, A, I, L, or with parents that were working the system for money. I was fed just enough to stay alive. At age eighteen, I joined the army and soon moved to Intelligence. There I learned to inflict pain, shoot, and slowly kill people. I specialize in information gathering and providing select services.
“I had a girlfriend up until three weeks ago, but I dumped her. It wasn’t going to work out. I love her still, but our lifestyles are … incompatible. If the wrong people found out I loved her, she would be dead by the weekend.”
Fey starts crying. I never entirely told her why I dumped her. She understands. She won’t like it, but she will know it’s right once she stops crying.
I see Lynn doing calculations in her head and then she says, “Two years after you were tossed aside, I was born. To me, they were loving, caring, a bit overprotective, but in general, two normal loving parents. They were in the PTA, dad coached softball for three years, and they attended all my sporting events. They put me through College. I was always the youngest in school.
“I never saw any evidence I had a brother. No mention, no pictures, no notes, no mementos, nothing. The parents you describe, they seem like aliens to me. I can’t fathom them having another child, not mentioning it, and then treating you the way they did.”
There are about two minutes of silence before I speak.
I announce, kaçak bahis “I think it’s time I leave. I need some sleep.”
Fey is a drill Sargent, “Oh no, you don’t! I need to watch over you for a day or two and watch that shoulder of yours. You’re sleeping with me tonight.” Looking at Lynn. “You get the guest bedroom and come with me so we can get you some clothes. By the way, what is your name?”
Lynn looks embarrassed, she is still naked in front of three strangers, two of which are men and checking her out.
Lynn says confidently, “You can call me Lynn.”
Fey offers sympathetically, “Tomorrow I’ll take you in for a complete exam. Go take a shower, you’ll feel better and then you can borrow some of my clothes.”
I counter her wishes, “Sorry babe, but Lynn is coming home with me. We are endangering you and Pete. Besides, my home is a fortress. Lynn isn’t going home until we know how far the corruption goes. At the very least, her partner must die. We both need to stay hidden and let my network do its thing. I can do that best from home.”
Lynn hesitantly asks, “What is it that you do for a living?”
Oh shit. I am into so much shit her head would spin. Even Pete has no idea about the extent of my organization and ties that I have. Nobody does, and that works for me. I have companies that run telephone robo scams in Russia and India, I deal in drugs from time to time, I take people out (and I don’t mean for dinner), and I make things happen that wouldn’t naturally occur, which includes a wide range of services. If I don’t do what you need, I know someone who is an expert that does.
What nobody else knows is that I also work for the police department, FBI, Homeland Security, the Secret Service, and the CIA. Anyone that needs information comes to me. Some individuals in this world are too evil to live or want to cause mass chaos and destruction. I have just enough morals to care about our society and the common man.
Because of me, some of the most prominent cases have been solved, and some of the worst people have been taken down. I limit my destructiveness, which makes me unique. Everyone else’s greed forces them to continue to build their empire. That’s where they get into trouble. My life is comfortable, I travel the world, and I have enough wealth that I don’t need to risk anything.
So, now I have a problem. I have an Achilles Heel. People can use Lynn against me if they learn of our connection. The smart thing to do is kill her. I don’t know her; she means nothing to me. Hell, she looks terrible with the busted-up face. Her body is beautiful, although her boobs are quite small for my taste.
Lynn pushes me and awakens me from my reverie.
Lynn asks again, “What do you do for a living? Why were you at the warehouse? How did you know about me?”
I pick up my phone and call Roberto.
I greet my friend, “Hello Roberto, my friend. I need a favor from you. Arthur gave me a tip tonight that’s kind of sensitive to me. He was tipped off by one of his people, I don’t know which one.”
My friend Roberto terminates the call. That was me telling Roberto that Arthur and his people all need to die.
I look at Lynn, “I was tipped off about your impending doom. The smart thing to do would have been to let you die. If anyone knows about you, it’s a possible way to pressure me. I just made the decision to kill a man that is important to me to keep you. I’m very troubled by that. It’s not rational. While you live, you are a liability to me. If you ever give me a reason to distrust you, we will finish tonight the way it started.
“I do a variety of things. Most of which will offend you. We work on opposite sides of life. I think I will leave it at that. Know this. If I find out this is a ruse to nail me, you and many others will suffer long and painfully. I’m not a man to be trifled with.”
Pete continued for me, “I’ve known Gary for several years. He’s the most loyal and trusted friend I have. He’s helped my business and put Fey through medical school. I owe him everything, including my life. I’m going to give you three pieces of advice because, like it or not, your life has taken a big right turn.
“Don’t trust anyone from now on, including your parents. Never cross Gary. You can count on Gary for anything. Anyone you knew, they have already been tagged. People are looking for you and will do anything to find you. DO NOT contact anyone, you are dead.”
Lynn is in tears, “Why are they looking for me? What did I do?”
I answer that one, “Men purchased rights to use your body from your partner. By now, he knows that they’re dead. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out someone saved you. That puts your partner in a very exposed position. He needs to find you and close the loophole, or he or his family will burn. Do you think he wants that to happen?”
Lynn’s eyes steel as she says with conviction, “Oh, he’ll burn all right. I can’t wait to get my hands on him and bring him to justice.”
I laugh at her naivete, “Don’t you know he already has a story and evidence that you killed those men? You’ll be the one going to jail. Do you think he’s going to follow the rules now? Do you think he’s going to allow you to put him in jail?”
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