Death at the Sapphic Ball

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Death at the Sapphic Ball Page 11

by Jane Brooke


  As she lay there, both of their breathing as well as their pulses calmed. Jane, shaken to her core, her body depleted of all denial and life pain, could not imagine how this girl and this giant of a human being could feel so much pain.

  But it did not surprise her, for she remembered her words to Carol.

  “I do not know what love is.”

  Jane then thought that she understood.

  She now knew that Ash dare not love. Jane understood that she dare not be distracted by love, and the weakness and vulnerability that state might impose upon her.

  Ash was on a journey of her passion, a sojourn of her mind, and Jane’s heart broke, for she knew a road of pain and loneliness was waiting for Ash like an executioner’s song. At that moment Jane loved her, yet felt such sorrow for her.

  Of course, what ever anguish she had been feeling quickly passed. A young warrior, she rose from Jane’s arms, took our, OUR, dildo out of us. I moaned as she threw her head back and with her fingers slashed her wet hair back too. She inhaled a deep breath, looked down at Jane and through a smile whispered, she was Ash again.

  “Thank you, Jane, wasn’t that just divine?” Ash whispered.

  DIVINE?

  Jane was so exhausted, spent from so many orgasms. Her brain felt that it was without the capability of forming words as she simply stared at a naked Ash. Jane began a whisper, but that was dissolved by Ash’s forefinger pressed against her lips.

  “Shush, darling. You sleep now, Ash much go now. We shall perhaps chat more later my lovely.”

  GO?

  Jane wanted the soap opera romance, the cuddling, the warmth of two lovers bodies pressed together as they slept, the morning after kiss. You know just like every Fabio, cheap romance novel every created, but that was not to be.

  She laced her hands under Jane’s head, lifted it, fluffed a pillow and, then gently laid her head upon it. She pulled back the white sheets and down comforter, guided her legs and body under them. She covered Jane to her chinny chin chin, smiled at her, touched her lips, and whispered to her.

  “Sleep darling, I shall say good bye, if you are awake when I return.”

  She stood, seemed to weave for a moment, righted herself, did an air kiss at Jane with the “O” of her lips. Pirouetting on a bare heel, a naked mahogany colored reed, she gaily skipped across the room and disappeared into the bathroom, Jane knowing that the fairy tale, as they always did, had ended.

  Night moved for sometime as if the clock has no memory, numbers etched within its face, and moving in and out of the coma of orgasms Ash had induced upon her, Jane felt as if her body had been entombed in crinoline coffin. She remembered her eyes closing and, then opening as she felt something touching her face.

  Jane smiled, for Ash was now dressed in a man’s black suit, white mans shirt and black tie, black men’s tie ups, and a black fedora on her head. Naked before, wild erotic, exotic and untamable as a female she was now even more stunning as perhaps the new Masculine Ash.

  Jane immobilized, her body felt like a noodle, weak, renewed, exhausted as Ash leaned in and kissed her. Jane responded and, then Ash backed away from her, Jane assumed being pulled by some stellar lunar force.

  No offer of a phone number exchange, no mention of marriage, no mention of another fluid exchange, or an encore of her small fist plunged deep into Jane earlier. Just a smile and a knowing look on her face that this was a onetime deal.

  Two hungry girls feeding needs, what ever those sex, eclectic needs were? At the moment, at this moment and she knew it, and Jane knew it, and Jane guessed the bubble head aliens waiting for her in the space machine outside knew it too.

  She smiled. Jane smiled. She though she saw a single tear spilling down a high cheekbone, but it is just her imagination she assumed. Ash leaned down and kissed Jane one last time, and whispered.

  “We shall see each other in London my beauty. We have so much work to be done, I am your client now, never forget Jane, how special you truly are.”

  One last smile and, then she turned on a brogue, walked solidly across the bedroom and at the door she hesitated. She Turned her head and simply stared at Jane.

  What is she thinking? What does she want?

  In Jane’s fantasies she will return, this minute, strip naked and savage her again, but she did not, as Ash smiled, and whispered.

  “Be brave my lovely. Be true to yourself.” Jane blinked and, then she was gone.

  Suddenly, and to her amazement, she was happy, felt beautiful, renewed. She knew that this was a transformational moment in her life. It was, the changing moment that she would cherish forever. It is what it was, a renewal of her heart and soul.

  She of course could not sleep, and wanted the feeling of sleeping in her own bed. She was so disorientated, not to mention confused by what just had happened. She needed the solace of her familiar apartment, more than anything than to simply realize that she had not been abducted by an ET and that she still lived on Planet Earth. She began to giggle, her sense of humor was there still, thank fully.

  She rose from the bed, placed her feet on the floor and, then pressing her elbow’s to her knees, she layered my face into her hands. She groaned from so many shoots of glorious pain and pleasure still striking through her body.

  Suddenly, she felt tears streaming down her cheeks as her faced pressed into her fingers as she moaned.

  “Just great. What in the fuck am I going to do now?

  As she sat there thinking, she thought of Ash. As she did, she did not know at that moment, that it would be well over a year before she saw Ash again. Of course that would be in London, where she would relocate the main offices to be near her, to protect her, to help save her.

  They would never again be lovers, but that had not mattered to her. Ash had freed her of the chains of her cowardly bias thinking.

  Of course how does one repay a female that had done that for another?

  Ash would do exactly what she said she would do. She would win the US Open, and as she had promised, she had prostituted her self commercially, at her own emotional and moral risk. Thus she had poured multiple millions into her beloved Ash Foundation.

  Months after that victory, she stunned the world by quitting tennis, which brought a fire storm of disbelief, genocide and above prejudiced hatred against her, placing her own life in jeopardy. For then she announced to the world that she was now at war, for the preservation of a rare species, and that species was women, concerning the veil, women’s rights to abortion, contraception, wage equality and the rest of sins men had tried to yoke females with since the beginning of time.

  As Rupert Murdock, led by his pimped out media whores, mainly Fox News tore her from limb to limb, she had smiled, never shied away from any interview.

  Then the death threats had come, yet she never shied away from her responsibilities to those born less fortunate than she.

  She was-fearless and, never swayed, nor did she bend. She was a warrior and she was dynamic, and slayed them as if they were ignorant children, which they were. Through her genius and her visionary way of thought, she increased the pressure, as her world view on Darfur began to change the game, though slowly at first.

  Of course, even Ash could not dream or see the future, and one day, a girl that did not know love would meet another creature like her.

  This creature would be a tormented genius of words and ASH would pursue this grief stricken female and fall in love with another alien like being bent on suicide, for the womans past loss was more than any human could bear.

  With in the fulcrum of that moment of love, Ash would change, and her heart would flourish, grow, and die and then be reborn. Encapsulated in such anguish, her great heart would be reborn, stronger, purer, though her pain forever would be etched along her face. It would be cataclysmic, yet beautiful and of course Jane wo
uld be there to witness it all.

  “Men must die at times to prove there is justice in natures world”

  DeSade

  “WHAT YA LOOKING AT, YA BITCH.”

  Bert Moran Said, as his brother Frank laughed as they both watched almost in awe as the girl, like a black shadow, her hands stuck into her leather jacket stared out through the tinted face plate of her motor cycle helmet at them.

  “Come over here honey, I got somethin’ fer ya.”

  Bert Moran said, grabbing his balls through his trousers.

  UNEXPECTED gifts sometimes come to good girls, and she had been that, a very good girl indeed.

  The vicious Moran brothers were not on her redemption list for the night, she had other surprises for them, so she hesitated and looking at them, as both of her gloved hands wrapped around her twin silenced Berettas in their shoulder holsters, she decided to give them a pass.

  Turning, she took one step, and then there was that magic word again.

  “What, ya don’t want to suck my cock. Ya BITCH.” Frank Moran said laughing, as his brother laughed along with him.

  DEAD STEP, she froze and, then slowly turned around, and taking a combat wide stance, black boots cemented to the hallway floor, both gloved hands again in her leather jacket, she simply stared at the two men, that killed women for sport.

  “SUCK MY COCK, BITCH.” Bert said.

  Without hesitation, she withdrew both silenced Berettas, lifted her tinted face shield so both men could see the face of The Angel of Death and, then leveled the tips of the silenced Berettas at their heads.

  Both men gasped, for they had never seen anything so beautiful and above all so insanely homicidal, for there was an acid plated death stare tattooed into the girl’s eyes, as she pressed the triggers.

  “PSSST. PSSST. PSSST. PSSST.” Sizzled out of the Beretta mouths.

  She smiled as she smelled the odor of cordite, one of her favorite essences in life as the hollow points vaporized, two each, both men’s skulls, painting the wall behind them with brain matter, skull fragments, and red blood splatter.

  Re holstering her automatics, she smiled at the dead men and whispered.

  “Wrong word, wrong time, wrong girl.”

  She lowered her tinted face plate, turned on a boot heel and walked quickly to the end of the hall, saw a door that said: Scenic Porch Caution stenciled on it.

  Opening the door, she walked through it and found herself on a beautiful veranda type patio setting that the Luxury Suite patrons used to perhaps watch the sun rise gaze or use to share cocktails as moon light engulfed their elite lives.

  Walking past the lounges, tables and chairs, she stepped to the railing, edging the patio. There was a full moon, as she gazed at it she thought it dramatic and stunning.

  From her leather belt, she took a long black nylon rope, tied it in a SEALS slip not to the balcony and spooled the double strands down to the darkness of an alley that she knew would be there.

  Without hesitation and gripping the nylon rope with her gloved hands, she leaped from the balcony, and as she swung out, she simply sizzled down the rope until her muscled legs like springs, absorbed her body weight as her work boots planted to the alley floor.

  Staring straight up, she gave the special Detach SEAL knot a tug. Both lines of black rope spooled along her boots. She gathered it up, folded it several times and attached it to the grommet on her belt.

  Turning she ran to her Moto Guzzi and liking the feeling of her back pack on her shoulders she smiled as she started the engine of the bike.

  “VROOM, VROOM, VROOM.”

  The bike seethed, as then she popped the clutch and the back tire smoked and screeched as she roared down the alley, found the main street, turned left and screamed past the entrance of the hotel.

  Somewhere in the distance she heard police sirens, she smiled to herself hearing them.

  Careening through Manhattan, she then found The WEST SIDE and slowing before a three story brown stone, she hit a small remote on her belt. The security gate to the down stairs parking complex began to grind open.

  Roaring through the accordion gate she hit it down the ramp, turned left, found a parking space and parked right next to a Black Cadillac Escalade.

  She quickly killed the engine and long striding she walked to the elevator, slid her Security card into the scanner, got the green light and hit the button.

  The elevator lights blinked and then ca-hinged as the door slid open.

  Inside, she hit the top floor button, indicating a private pent house Suite and with her adrenalin red lining, she watched as the door closed and the elevator began its ride up to the top floor.

  Once at the top floor, the door opened to a beautiful living room festooned with flowers in vases, loungers, chases, and with a massive window showing the sparkling lights of Manhattan

  Standing there was a massive black man, coat off, grinning as two Glock automatics hung along his side in their shoulder holsters.

  Manic, crazed, she ripped off her helmet, and with a smile lit on her face that could have lit New York City, she crazily ran across the room and dove into the black man’s powerful arms, giggling as she did.

  After a moment, she calmed and he pressed her away, and holding both of her gloved in his hands, he asked.

  “Well, how was it?”

  ASH smiled, looked at her partner/protector/body Guard MARCEL and blinding him with her white teeth, she said.

  “Piece of cake. Piece of cake my darling.”

  Though his relationship with her was a professional one, he of course loved her, would die for her and, then she calmed more and got serious, just a little as she stared at her SEAL watch.

  “Maurice, thank you my love, let me shower get ready for the agency meeting. I am quite keen seeing what this Jane Braden is all about.”

  She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek and, then she moved towards the shower, back pack, Berettas, clothes leaving a trail behind her on the floor.

  He could hardly wait to see what she would do next.

  THE END

  To be continued

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