by Mayburn, Ann
"Suck him," Asher said in a cold voice and gave her bottom one more slap.
Grateful, she scooted forward and engulfed Kent's cock into her mouth. Her pace was frantic, and Kent thrust his hips with a groan.
A wet, cool tongue licked over her burning bottom and she groaned. It felt so good, the long and gentle licks soothing her flesh. The ache in her pussy was still as deep and she tilted her hips as high as she could into the air in a silent plea.
Struggling to open her throat from this angle, she used her hand to stroke the base of Kent's shaft. He leaned back, the heavy muscles in his thighs tensing as his cock swelled in her mouth.
"Going to come." His hands traced a restless pattern over her cheeks. "Do you want it in your mouth, Princess?"
Unwilling to release his cock, she nodded and continued to jerk him. Thick thumbs spread her bottom open and Asher licked over her puckered asshole in long swipes.
"That's it," Kent crooned. "Make me come."
Two rough fingers worked themselves into her pussy and she screamed around Kent's cock. Hissing, Kent grabbed the back of her head and held her while he emptied himself into her mouth. Pulling back a bit, she circled her tongue around his head, swallowing each salty spurt as it hit the back of her throat.
He pulled out, allowing her to pant as Asher continued to tease her bottom.
Kent reached beneath her and toyed with her nipples, pinching at the tip with his nails. The combination of their attention had her sinking into a state of primal awareness. The only thing that mattered was sensation.
"Fuck her," Kent ordered.
Leaning down, she kissed Kent's hand in gratitude, smoothing her cheek back and forth on his palm.
Asher replaced his fingers with his cock in one smooth motion. Delicious, that was the only word her mind could think of to describe him filling her. Being stuffed with his wide cock, stretched and opened beneath him, was perfection.
Kent lay in front of her and lifted her so her face and shoulders rested on his chest. "Good girl." He traced his fingers down her cheeks. "Clench that little pussy around him. Make him come as quickly as you made me."
His rough talk had both her and Asher voicing their pleasure. After all their play and the influence of the trigger, she was more than ready to have her release. Reaching down, she pressed on her clit and shuddered. Asher's fingers joined hers and his hard pinch on her labia finished her.
Kent gently stroked her back while she arched and howled. Asher slapped her bottom hard and groaned deep in his throat, his shaft pulsing against her while her pussy clenched him tight. A wet finger forced itself into her bottom, and her orgasm changed and turned into something deeper. With a soft chuckle, Kent said, "Her eyes rolled back in her head."
Asher withdrew his finger, drawing one last shudder from her. She was unable to open her eyes as he pulled out. Unable to do anything to help them as a soft towel cleaned her. Little twitches and shivers jerked her body, aftershocks of a pleasure so intense she almost couldn't handle it.
Someone lifted her and held her close. By his smell, it was Asher. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, unwilling to open her eyes. He gently placed her on the bed and drew a sheet over them.
"I love you," he said and his voice grew rough. "I love you both so much."
"You too," was all she could get out before sleep overtook her.
* * * *
Rashid gazed out the window of his suite on the forty-third floor of the Detroit Marriot Hotel and stroked his cock. Down there, on the long sidewalks that ran the length of the Detroit River, tens of thousands would die in agony.
He could hear it now, the screams of the men as they watched their families writhe in pain, the choked gasps of lungs burning. Stroking faster now, he could almost taste the fear that would saturate the air, the panic causing people to trample each other in an effort to escape.
With images of blistered flesh popping open in runny clear blisters, he hunched over and came hard. Gasping, he rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window and looked straight down, the imagined corpses filling the land pulling another shudder from his body.
A harsh pounding at the door connecting his room to the rest of the suite made him bite back a shriek. For a moment, he felt like he was twelve years old again when his mother caught him masturbating to pictures of war injuries in his history book.
"One second," he yelled and tossed the used tissue into the basket. Checking himself in the mirror, he straightened his suit and opened the door.
"You are not going to fucking believe this!" David chortled and led Nancy in on her leash. She had a gag shaped like a rubber dog bone pressed between her lips and another rubber dog bone shoved into her ass. Looks like Rashid wasn't the only one indulging in some afternoon delight.
"What are you talking about?" Rashid calmly took a seat in a wide mahogany chair in the corner of the room.
David snatched the remote and turned the TV on. Flipping quickly through the channels, he came to one of the twenty-four hour news networks. "Watch," he commanded as Nancy remained on her hands and knees.
Ignoring the woman, the sight of her exposed did absolutely nothing for him, Rashid steepled his fingers and sincerely hoped it was good news. David had been on the warpath about the bodyguards escaping with who they assumed was Lalita. Rashid had lied to him and said that one of the men was seriously wounded and would die before he received medical attention. That and the securing of the materials for their big surprise had earned him enough leeway to live another day.
A grim-looking Asian woman addressed the viewing audience from her anchor's chair. "Once again, we just received this footage from an anonymous source. We warn you, what you are about to see is graphic and very disturbing. If you have any children in the room, please have them leave now." She paused, presumably to give people time to change the channel.
David grinned back at him, and Rashid raised his eyebrows. "Just wait, you're going to love this!" David actually clapped his hands together, and Nancy made a mewling sound from behind her bone gag.
"Suspected terrorist, Lalita Chetana, is believed to have killed herself this afternoon." Rashid watched barely concealed excitement flash across her perfect features. "Once again, the video you are about to see is graphic. In it, Lalita Chetana douses herself with gasoline in front of a group of tourists at the base of the Washington Monument."
Rashid gasped, leaning forward and tugging his jacket over his suddenly stiff cock.
The screen cut to a perky family waving at the camera while the camera operator droned off some useless facts about the Washington Monument in the background. The mother was trying to get her two young boys to stop fighting with each other while yelling at the camera operator to 'Put that thing down and help her.' From off-screen, a terrible shriek cut through the mother's nagging and the boys yells. The camera lost focus for a moment, but stayed on the family’s faces long enough to catch the look of extreme terror.
David laughed and clapped again. "This is the best part."
A blurry shot of grass and ground flew by before the camera found its new target. A young Indian woman with her back partially turned, soaked herself with a can of lighter fluid. It ran down her black and purple streaked hair in long, oily drips. Beyond her, a circle of horrified people watched, and David absently noted how a woman was trying to get her man to stop Lalita. Before he could find his balls, Lalita pulled out a Zippo and lit herself on fire.
The camera showed about five seconds of her burning. Hair going up in a floating blaze, clothes turning into a blanket of fire. Rashid's breath came out in heavy pants as he imagined the smell of lighter fluid soaked flesh crisping. In the background, screams and horrified cries from the onlookers caressed against his erection like soft fingers.
The footage cut away and the screen filled with the face of the anchorwoman again. "Can you believe that shit!" David giggled and hit mute, practically dancing across the floor. "She left a suicide note telling her d
addy how sorry she was. That she thinks she is losing her mind, that aliens brainwashed her into being a whore and traitor."
Willing himself to maintain control, Rashid's gaze couldn't stay off the screen, hoping for another run of the woman burning herself alive. "Where are her bodyguards?"
"No idea, but I bet they really are going on a vacation where they can't be reached now. If the Sanjit ever gets a hold of them, they'll regret the day they ever met that bitch." David knelt next to Nancy and began to plunge the dog bone in and out of her ass like a man churning butter. "He'll be devastated by this happy turn of events."
Rashid crossed his legs and shifted in the chair. He wanted them out of here, right now, so he could watch the video over and over. "Do you think he'll still come to Detroit?"
"Maybe, maybe not." On the floor, Nancy howled and barked behind her bone gag. "With the Sanjit out of the picture, it will make our job easier. Either the other diplomats will be busy trying to distance themselves from him and his mad terrorist daughter, or they'll be afraid to disturb him. Either way, we are going to blow the fuck out of this pop stand."
Shuddering, Rashid ran his hand over his mouth. "All that beautiful chaos."
"Mhmm hmm," David replied and fondled Nancy's breasts. "Come on, puppy. I want to celebrate."
Barking behind her gag, Nancy followed David out the door. Trying not to slam it, Rashid shut the door and ripped at the zipper of his pants. Eyes glued to the television, he turned the volume up and waited for the replay of the wonderfully horrific video.
* * * *
A warm hand shook her gently. "Princess, wake up. You need to shower and eat so we can leave."
"What?" The words were slow coming out of her mouth. Her mind was filled with fog and she had the brief mental image of her yoga instructor putting something into her ear with a harsh expression on her face.
Asher tugged at her arm and pulled her from the comfort of the warm bed. "We're going to Detroit."
"Huh?" She wrapped her arms around his hips and rubbed her face on the hard ridges of his stomach.
Kent gave her butt a hard pinch. "Into the showers with you, my little harlot."
Stumbling, she yanked on the shower and stood beneath its spray. Through the steam she saw Kent take a seat on the lid of the toilet.
Waking up beneath the water, she groped for the shampoo. "Why are we going to Detroit?"
"Because that's where you told the anarchists the Security Council will be meeting next."
The shampoo bottle slipped through her fingers, and she cursed as she bent over to pick it up. "Did you tell my father?"
"Yep. You'll be interested to know you committed suicide."
Spitting water from her mouth, she scrubbed at her hair. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Asher's voice came from the doorway. "The FBI faked your death. They don't want the anarchists worrying about you spilling the beans. This is the biggest break they've had in years."
"I'm dead?" Deeply disturbed, she tried to keep her tone light. "Did I have a funeral?"
"Not yet." Asher's misty image joined Kent and he wrapped his arms around him. "You did it in a rather spectacular fashion."
Interested despite the macabre nature of the subject, she dumped a handful of conditioner into her palm. The scent of lemon grass and oranges filled the humid air. "How?"
"Set yourself on fire in front of a group of tourists."
"Holy shit!"
Kent laughed. "Don't worry, they were all FBI officers. But your 'leaked' suicide made it to all the news stations. The stunt woman did a fantastic job."
Working the soap into a lather, she scrubbed her arms and chest in rough jerks. "How is my father handling it?"
"The Sanjit has gone into seclusion to deal with your death."
"In reality, he is absolutely furious. He wants to contact you, but knows they're watching him."
At least her father knew she was okay. The thought made her feel better. "That still doesn't tell me why we have to go to Detroit. If the FBI knows what's going on, why do we need to be there?"
"Because you've heard Rashid. You're the only person we know of that can identify them."
"I have? When?"
Asher moved over to the sink and grabbed his toothbrush. "You talked to him on the phone. He was the one giving you directions on what to do and you probably heard anyone that was in the background. We think your yoga instructor is the one who helped hypnotize you."
"No shit." She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Kent wrapped a towel around her and pulled her in for a soft kiss. The image of Mrs. Yazuka's normally pleasant face twisted into a scowl flashed through her mind.
Asher rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash and spat into the sink. "Keep it in your pants. We need to hit the road."
She flipped him the bird, and Kent snickered as he toweled her hair. "How in the world am I supposed to find him? Did I tell you where he's staying?"
Kent snapped the towel at her bottom as she rummaged through the dresser for another pair of shorts. "Kinda…"
After picking out a navy blue T-shirt, she looked over her shoulder. "Kinda?"
"We know they'll strike during the fireworks on June 21st." Asher tossed a gym bag onto the bed and began to draw bundles of cash out of it.
"What the hell is that? Did you rob a bank while I slept?"
Kent pulled his backpack out of the closet and threw it onto the bed beside the bag. "Mr. Jerry doesn't trust banks. But he does trust his underground fortress."
"Time to hit the road." Asher pulled her close and held her. She brushed her lips over his and tasted the mint mouthwash on his breath.
She rested her head against his chest and breathed in his scent. "Well, there's one good thing about being dead."
"What's that?" Kent asked as he ran his knuckles over Asher's cheek.
"I don't have to worry about my dad killing me for running off with you two."
Chapter Nine
Lalita took a deep breath and rolled over onto her stomach on the king-sized bed. Asher and Kent had already raided the bar of their hotel room and each drank from a little bottle of whisky. The men put away the purchases from their shopping spree into the drawers of the light wood dresser. They exchanged a soft kiss and she couldn't help but grin at them.
Done in shades of pale gold and ruby red, the suite at the Marriot looked out over the Detroit River and onto Canada from the sixty-eighth floor.
"You still haven't told me how we're going to find Rashid. Every time I ask you avoid the question." The bed bounced as Kent flopped onto it next to her and pulled her into his arms.
He nuzzled his face against her neck. "Have I told you how much I love you in the color pink?"
With a snort, she pushed him away and tugged the hem of her new shirt back down. "You're not going to distract me."
"Really?" Asher said as he turned away from the view. He slowly licked his lips, and her heart sped up at the lust in his eyes.
"Come on, guys, I need to know. It's not fair to keep me in the dark about this."
Asher opened a package of socks and began to put them away. "We're going to have to go shopping at Noir Leather."
Kent rolled onto his back and pulled her with him so she straddled his hips. He became very happy to have her there and she tried to ignore the erection pressing against the seam of her new shorts. "Does he work at the store or something?"
"Nope, it's a--um--"
"It's a fetish fashion boutique."
Her eyebrows flew up and she pushed Kent's hands down as they tried to creep toward her breasts. "Why do we need to shop there?"
"Rashid is going to be at a fetish club tonight with a woman and some man named David. We need to blend."
"Fantastic!" She rolled off Kent and joined Asher at the window. Now it was his turn to look shocked.
"You don't mind?"
"Uh, duh, have we met?" She tickled him and spun out of his reach. "I love fetish clubs. I'
ve never participated in anything, but I've seen some fantastic performances."
Kent sat on the edge of the bed. "And here we were worried about your delicate sensibilities."
Digging through the bags of their new clothes, she tugged out a black tank top with lace straps. "That club I took you to? They have Friday Fetish Nights. I've seen more yummy men in latex than you can shake a stick at."
Big hands gripped her hips as Kent pulled her bottom back against him. "Yummy men?"
Tugging her shirt off, she amended, "Not as yummy as you two, of course."
Dark fingers toyed at the edge of her black bra as she tugged her new shirt on. "Stop." She smacked Asher's hands away and stood back, giving the men a once-over from head to toe. "Besides, I get to dress you two in leather." She sighed and pretended to fan herself. "This is better than Christmas."
"I hate to burst your bubble, but we do have work to do."
She took a deep breath and began to open her new makeup. "I know." Her hands shook as she tried to put the makeup brush back into its holder. "I'm trying not to think about that part. Because if I think about it, I'll obsess about it. And if I obsess about it I'm going to put us all into danger by freezing inside of there."
Avoiding Asher's hands, she went to the bed and quickly tugged on her socks. "I want to pretend we're all going out on a date together, like any normal couple." Kent snickered and swatted her butt as she walked past. "Well, as normal as a happy ménage going to a fetish bar can be."
"We won't let him hurt you." Asher leaned against the dresser next to her and crossed his arms over his muscled chest. "We also have an undercover agent in the bar that's going to help us."
"Really? Who is it?"
"Haven't met him before, but he used to be a member of the Special Forces. Somehow your father talked him out of retirement." She snickered as he continued, "He happens to enjoy a rather kinky lifestyle outside of work."
"And his wife is part owner of the club," Asher added as he kissed her neck before she swatted him away.