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Nobody’s Fool

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Stella poured me another shot of Jameson and gave me a look that said, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I downed the shot and gave her one back that said, “Mind your own fucking business and pour.” My throat was raw from whiskey and my eyes were red from the smoke of burning bodies. No matter how much I drank, I couldn’t seem to stop my hands from shaking. I tapped the bar next to my empty glass and Stella dutifully poured another. Something in my face told her not to argue. She leaned on the bar, giving me a long look at her heavy breasts and deep cleavage.

“This isn’t like you,” she said.

“Isn’t it?” I snarled back. Maybe she was right. I didn’t know anymore. I couldn’t even be sure who I was anymore. She patted my trembling hand.

“Tough day?”

“You could say that.” Tough day. They don’t come any tougher. After all, it isn’t every day you fall in love, commit mass murder and tear your own heart out of your chest. It could have been worse, I guess. I could be dead.


No, this was worse.


The day had started normally enough; in to the office by noon, dispose of the junk mail, sit at my desk watching the busy people scurry down the street like ants around a potato chip. It’s good not having a job, if you ain’t hungry, somebody once said. I had a box of Krispy Kremes and a long, empty day to eat them.

The sun was setting and I had just about decided to go home and oil my guns when I heard the elevator chime at the end of the hall. I heard the tok tok tok of stiletto heels. A confident stride. Quick, but not hurried. The footsteps stopped outside my office door. There was a pause. She was reading the words etched in the frosted glass, I assumed. M. Monoghan: Private Investigations. The ‘S’ was an exaggeration, since there was just me, and one investigation at a time was about all I could handle. I had a partner once. He ran off to Barbados with our last big payday. I had a secretary, too. She ran off with the partner. Follow the money. First rule of detective work.

The office door opened and the owner of the stilettos walked in like she owned the place. She was shorter than I expected. The heels brought her up to maybe 5’4″. She wore a gray, wool skirt split to the hip over black stockings. A maroon, silk blouse. The strap from her small leather purse cut across her chest like a bandolier, accentuating her jutting breasts. Her hair was chopped short like a boy’s and she wore no makeup that I could see, other than a slash of red across her inviting lips. There was a delicate scar at the corner of her mouth. She was no centerfold, but sexual heat rose off of her like waves over a radiator. She stood in front of my desk and looked at me the way a kid looks at a Daddy Long-Legs. Eight long legs to pluck.

“You Monaghan?”

“I am.”

“I want to hire you.”


“Just like that?”

“Unless you passed a line of clients in the hall, I find myself embarrassingly available.”

“I hear you’re tough.”

“I hear that too.”

“Well, you look the part.”

That was true, I guess. 6’5″. 240 lbs. My shirt tight across my chest and biceps. But toughness has little to do with size, I’ve found. The lady was compact, but she looked tougher than a truck stop steak.

“Don’t you want to know what I’m hiring you for?” she asked.

“Why don’t grab a seat and tell me.”

She crossed around the desk and sat on the edge. Her skirt fell open to reveal her legs. I’ve seen better legs, but only in fashion magazines. I could see the clips where her garter belt held up her stockings. I could see the curve of her ass. I couldn’t see any panties. My chest was growing tight. So were my pants. She took a cigarette from her bag and waited for me to light it like it was her due. I did, of course. She took a deep drag, then rolled her head back and blew a blast of smoke at the ceiling. When she turned back to me, smoke trailed from her nostrils like a dragon’s.

“I’m in a jam,” she said.

“I figured as much.”

“I work for the government. One of the three-letter agencies. More than that you don’t need to know.”

“I’ll assume it’s not the FCC,” I said.

“I’m undercover,” she said. “Deep cover. But I think I’m blown. That means I’m as good as dead. I need somebody to watch my back.”

“Shouldn’t your three-letter agency handle that?”

“That’s the problem. Only one man knows I’m under and he’s dead. I think the people I’m after killed him and I think they set it up to look like it was me. That’s why I can’t come in yet. Not until I get the goods. I need you to keep me alive until I do.”

“Sounds simple enough,” I said. “Who’s after you?”

“Benny Scarpetti.”

“Jesus Christ.”

I got up and went to the window. There wasn’t anyone on the street. Not that I expected there to be. I just needed a minute to think. Benny Scarpetti ran the rackets in this town. He had a virtual monopoly on vice. If it was illegal, immoral or just plain nasty, Scarpetti had his fingers in the pie. Hell, it was his pie. Anybody who crossed Benny ended up dead. The ugly kind of dead. She came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

I could feel her breasts pressing into my arm. She gazed up at me with deep, brown eyes. It may have been the smoke, but they seemed a little misty.

“I’m a little scared,” she said. “It’s not a feeling I’m used to and I don’t like it.”

“You think Benny’s on to you?”

She nodded. “I’ve been dancing at one of his clubs. Something happened last night. I… he… yeah, I think I’m blown.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“First, I’ll need a place to stay,” she said.

My mind was clogged with images of her spinning around a brass pole in one of Benny’s flesh markets..

“You’ll stay with me,” I said.

“I’ll need to get some things from my place. They may be watching it.”

“Let’s go find out.”

I took my shoulder harness from the desk drawer and strapped it on. I grabbed my jacket from the chair and dropped a couple of extra clips in the pocket. She stepped in close to me. Her eyes bored into mine. She grabbed my tie and pulled my face down to hers. Her lips brushed against mine when she said, “Thank you. I didn’t know where else to turn.” Then she kissed me. Her mouth was fever hot. And I was lost. I knew she was trouble just as sure as I knew I was helpless to say no. I was hooked like a pipe fiend in a Chinatown opium den. She broke the kiss. I craved another instant she did. She went to the door. The light from the hall silhouetted her shapely curves.

“Is there anything else you need to know?” she asked.

“Just your name, I guess. Who are you?”

She smiled.

“Nobody you know.”

Alarm bells were going off in my head as I followed her down the hall. They almost drowned out the sound of her spiked heels on the tiles. Nothing could drown out the sight of her magnificent ass. It wasn’t the hard rump of a teenager, but a woman’s ass. The kind you want to see dressed in fancy lingerie on top of a set of fishnets. The kind you want to…

I was breaking all my own rules. Never work for strangers. Never work for somebody who keeps secrets. Never do bodyguard work. And never, ever take a case without some cash up front. She hadn’t even offered a retainer, unless you count the kiss. She had walked out of the office without a look back, knowing I would follow like a dog at her heel. She was somebody, this Miss Nobody. As we rode down the elevator she stepped in front of me. “What are you packing?” she asked.

I was wearing my bomber jacket; the one I wear when I know there’s going to be a dust-up. I unzipped it slowly, letting the sound fill the close elevator car. I opened it to show her the .45 under my right arm and the Walther PPK under my left. She smiled up at me, the way a whore smiles at you on payday.

“Very good,” she said. “The big one for when you want to kick in the front door, the little one for when you want to slip in the back.”

“I thought this was a straight bodyguard gig. Will I be slipping in any back doors?”

She ran her hand down my tie, stopping at my belt buckle.

“That depends on what else you’re packing,” she purred.

The elevator bell chimed just as she winked at me. She turned, letting her ass rub against the tent I was pitching in my pants. As she walked away, I watched that ass sway. I would have followed her into Hell.

When we hit the sidewalk, I stopped to light a smoke. I shook one loose and held it to her mouth. She took it between her lips. When I stepped in close to light it, I talked quick in her ear.

“You make the two in the alley?” I said.

“Of course. And the one behind the van with the rude cologne.”

“You armed?”

“I’m undercover as a stripper. Where the hell am I going to hide a gun?” she said.

“Slip your arm in my jacket and hug me.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Walther is under my left arm.”

When she pressed into me I could feel her breasts in their rough, thrusting bra, stabbing me in the heart. I took a full kiss of her red mouth. She caught my lower lip between her teeth and bit me hard. After a second or two she released me.

“Don’t forget you’re the hired help,” she said.

I handed her the matchbook.

“My address is inside. When I say ‘run’ you run there. I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder for you. You got it?”

She grinned at me like a cat at a mouse.

“Tell me all about it when you get home,” she said.

“If I’m not there in 15 minutes I won’t be coming. Give my cat to the lady in 5B.”

We started to stroll up the street and they stepped out, as different as night and day and the following night. Cologne was a tall, handsome dandy in a lavender shirt under a tailored grey suit. His blond hair was perfect. I made him for the brains and the gun. With him was a wiry, little monkey with a straight-razor. He grinned a gold-toothed grin that said he was going to enjoy this. Filling out the trio was a shaved gorilla, one big eyebrow across his sloping brow and hands the size of phone books. As I figured, Cologne did the talking.

“We just want the girl,” he said. “You can walk away. My employer would be grateful. He might be persuaded to steer some business your way.”

“Somehow, I don’t see that happening, do you?” I said.

“Alas, no.”

There was nothing else to say but, “RUN!”

I heard Miss Nobody’s heels racing down the street like a typewriter. I cleared my .45 and gave Razor-Boy a third eye. Yeah, I know I should have gone for the gunman first, but something about razors has always given me the willies. Cologne didn’t draw. In a move so quick a mongoose would have been jealous; he kicked the gun from my hand. Embarrassing. He stepped back.

I didn’t need to worry about him, though, because Gorilla was moving in hard. I fired three straight rights into his flat nose and he waded right through them like they were snowflakes. He caught me by the throat and the belt buckle, heaved my 240 pounds over his head and tried to throw me through the hood of a Buick. I felt something crunch in my back. The last thing I saw before the pain went away were two massive fists coming down towards my chest. I think he may have stopped my heart.


Hell was a dingy, flophouse room and Satan was a lady. She was in the shadows, but I could make out her tall, shapely form. I was tied to a wooden chair, my wrists behind me. I was naked as the day the doctor spanked me. Cologne was leaning against the wall and Gorilla was in the door. Cologne closed it in his face.

“See that we are not disturbed,” he said.

She came out of the shadows and into my world of hurt. She was long, almost regal. Thick black curls were tied back behind her imperious face. The black dress she was painted into stopped at the tops of her long, gorgeous legs. She strode across the room towards me her in that heavy-heeled walk that fashion models use. The kind that makes their breasts bounce with each step. She hiked up her hemline and tugged off her panties. She held them under my nose. They smelled of sweat and sex. She sat astride my bound legs. The cigarette in her mouth bobbed dangerously close to mine. She blew smoke in my eyes through her full, wet lips and flipped the spike away. She reached down between my legs and began to stroke my cock. She kissed and licked my ear. She nibbled at my earlobe. Despite myself, I grew hard. She stroked me to fullness. Then she raised up and put the tip of my cock to her cunt. I could feel her, wet and hot. She impaled herself on me and moaned in my ear. Then she whispered, with a voice like warm honey.

“My name is Juliana Justina Scarpetti. My friends call me JJ. You may call me Please. As in ‘Please, stop.’ And ‘Please, no more.’ And ‘Please God, let it end.’ But also as in ‘Please me,’ which is what you are going to do, aren’t you tough guy? And you can do that by answering my questions. As in, ‘Who are you working for?'”

I sighed, “Nobody.”

“Oh, we are not off to a very good start.”

She reached up and took my nipple between two of her deep, red talons. She began to pinch. I climbed the hill from pleasure to pain to somewhere I didn’t want to stay. I sucked in air through my clenched teeth. I heard Cologne do the same. My torturess released my nipple and kissed me on the nose.

“Better luck next time, sweety. Who are you protecting?”


“Oooh, poor baby. Come to mommy.”

She slipped her hands under my bound arms and gave me a soothing hug, then dug her claws into my back. I could feel my flesh tear as she ran her strong hands from my shoulders down to the top of my ass. I felt her twat squeeze my cock. I felt my rod start to swell. She moved her claws down and they dug into my ass. This one was going to be rough. She smiled in my face and brushed a kiss across my lips.

“Let’s make this next one easy, what do you say? Where the fuck is the cunt who fucked with my Uncle Benicio?”

The answer came from the hall. I heard the sound of a Walther firing two shots, then two more, then being emptied. After a terrible pause, there was the sound of a huge body hitting the floor. Then the door kicked in. Cologne dove for the bathroom. JJ turned just in time to see Miss Nobody drop the empty Walther to the floor and come at her with tooth and claw. She dug her hands into JJ’s tits and yanked her off of me. The thin dress shredded. Blood trickled down the deep cleavage between my tormenter’s heaving breasts. Miss Nobody stared down at her, sprawled on the dirty floor.

“Get this straight, sister. Nobody plays with my toys but me. Nobody.”

JJ’s big jugs were heaving. Her full lips were pulled into an ugly grimace. She looked down at her tits. There were deep red scratches across her dark nipples. Her eyes grew wide. She stood. The dress fell down around her ankles. She kicked it away, along with her shoes. Her breath was ragged. “You… are… so… dead… you fucking cunt!” She hurled herself at Miss Nobody. Nobody met her charge head on.

JJ had five inches and 30 pounds on her. She drove Nobody down, landing on top of her. She tried to grab her hair and pound her head into the floor. That was a mistake. For one thing, Nobody’s hair was too short for her to get a grip. For another, her jugs hung over Nobody’s face. Nobody reared up and clamped her teeth around one of JJ’s silver-dollar nipples. JJ shrieked as blood spurted into Nobody’s mouth. She tried to roll off, but Nobody was into her like a pit bull. She battered at Nobody’s face but she wouldn’t let go. Then JJ’s flailing hands found the empty automatic. She snatched it up and swung. It crunched down onto Nobody’s cheek, laying open the flesh.

Nobody let loose of her tit and grabbed for the gun. The two women rolled and wrestled on the dusty floor. JJ got hold of Nobody’s thumb and yanked it back. I thought I heard a snap. Nobody growled and grabbed a handful of JJ’s thick bush with her good hand. She ripped out a fistful of curls. JJ yowled like a cat and flung herself away. She crawled to her feet just in time for Nobody’s roundhouse kick to catch her square in her gut. She flew back against me, smashing the chair. She leapt up, ready to pounce again. I tangled my feet, still bound to the broken chair legs, around hers. She fell forward, right into the vicious knee that Nobody aimed at her face. JJ dropped like a stone.

Nobody stood over her, her shoulders curled in, her hands like claws. Her breathing slowed. Blood streamed down her face. Then she straightened up and asked, calm as you please, “You good to travel?”

“Yeah. Get me loose,” I said. Nobody worked at the rope with one hand. The other hung limp at her side. When I was free, Nobody looked my naked, clawed body up and down. I was, against all reason, hard as a rock. She laughed.

“Fan of the cat fights, are you?”

“It seems so,” I said.

Nobody picked up a broken chair leg. It had splintered to a sharp point.

“Let me finish the bitch and let’s get out of here,” she said.

“No. We should take her with us. We may need a bargaining chip when Scarpetti gets wind of this.”

“Suits me,” she said. “But I’m not carrying her.”

She turned and headed out the door.

I didn’t have time to admire Miss Nobody’s shapely ass as she strode down the hall. I grabbed the broken chair slat and jammed it under the bathroom door where the dandy was still holed up. I spoke through the door.

“You still in there, Cologne?”

“Awaiting the outcome. I must say I am surprised at the result. Miss JJ is quite formidable.” He put the accent on the second syllable. You just knew he would.

“You tell Uncle Benny that I don’t want a war. I just wanna get this straightened out,” I said.

“War? War is when two sides show up. You and the vixen are just part of daily business. Mister Scarpetti will have you killed over breakfast and the sports page.”

“Tell him I won’t hurt his niece…. any more than I have to,” I said.

“I’m sure his response to that news will be entertaining. You have a lovely cock, by the way.”

“Thanks, I got it from my Dad.”

“It was my happy task to undress you. Such a nice, thick cock. Such a fat head. Why, I could barely get it all in my mouth.”

I had halfway reached for the wedge I had locked him in with when I realized that’s what he was baiting me to do.

“Sorry you had a hard time, Cologne. Your mother never seems to have any trouble.”

“I may have to kill you personally for that remark, private dick. By the way, you do know your clothes are in here, don’t you?”

A quick glance around the room told me that was true. I was who-the-fuck-knows-where, naked. I think I had this dream once when I was ten, only without the fop in the bathroom and the knocked-out bitch on the floor. The only thing to wear in the room was JJ’s panties. They were black and lacy and damp. Lucky me, they were way too small. I tossed them aside, slung JJ’s naked body over my shoulder and headed for the door.

“Wait!” said the voice from the bathroom.


“What do you mean about my cologne?”

There was nothing for it. I headed down the stairs naked with JJ’s hot ass inches from my face. Miss Nobody was at the bottom, checking the street.

“Where the fuck are we? I smell the river,” I said. She turned, and at the sight of me burst into giggles. An odd sound, coming from her battle-scarred face.

“Laugh it up,” I said. “This fine piece of ass over my shoulder is Benny Scarpetti’s favorite niece. He bounced this ass on his knee. Probably still does.”

“He won’t make a move while we’ve got her,” she said.

“Fine for you, lady. Your cover’s blown. You can jet-set off to Casablanca or Istanbul. I gotta live in this neighborhood. Benny Scarpetti don’t quit.”

“I got you into this, Gumshoe. I’ll get you out.”

She was talking to me, but she couldn’t take her eyes off JJ’s rump. I couldn’t blame her. Bent over my shoulder like she was, JJ had nothing left to hide, except that her wet cunt was completely hidden by a thick, black tangle of curls. Dark hair feathered out from between her cheeks and her brown winkie was looking Nobody right in the eye.

“You got a car?” I said.

“Still at your office, a few blocks up.”

“Let’s go.”

“You are just going to walk down the street naked with an unconscious dominatrix on your back?”

“Hey, it’s Midtown. Who’ll notice?”

When we got to her car we found her tires slashed with Razor-Boy’s blade. His body was still cooling in the gutter. This was the kind of shitty thing Cologne would come up with, but it made sense. Slow your quarry down. Miss Nobody pulled the straight razor from the flat tire and slipped it in the top of her stocking.

” How far is your apartment?” she asked.

“Around the corner. Do I look like a commuter?”

“What you look like, Gumshoe…” Her voice trailed off into a chuckle. “Let’s go.”

We got back to my apartment without incident, unless you count the tall, bookish spinster who was coming around the corner with her poodle just as we turned onto my street. She walked her nose right up JJ’s ass. JJ began to stir. Spinster stepped back, took a look at the three of us and fainted on the spot. We left her with Fifi licking her nose.

When we hit my apartment Nobody started barking orders. She was moving like a hot machine.

“Secure the bitch. I’ll set defenses. You got weapons?” she said.

“In the piano bench. Then run yourself a hot bath,” I said.

“I’m fine.”

“Now you are. When the adrenaline wears off you’ll start feeling those shots you took. Get in the tub. I’ll come in and patch you up.”

“Just make sure that bitch doesn’t get loose in here.”

This was some kind of training kicking in for Miss Nobody. I wondered again what her story really was but I had no time to worry about it. I took JJ into my bedroom. She was beginning to wriggle. I grabbed five of my ties from the closet and tossed JJ on the bed. She was sprawled face down and naked. Because a naked hostage feels more vulnerable and dependant on her captors. Ah, who am I kidding? It was payback.

I bound her, wrist and ankle, to the bedposts. The fifth tie I put around her neck and tied to the headboard. The more she struggled, the less she breathed. Her legs were spread wide and her furry bush was parted to reveal her moist cunt. Her bunghole was tilted to the ceiling. Her muscled shoulders began to strain at their tethers. I left her alone to think.

I found that Miss Nobody had leaned my sawed-off against the front door, with a box of shells beside it. She had shoved the refrigerator in front of the back door. She even laid out some of my army surplus grenades along the top of my TV. I found her soaking in the tub.

“You really gotta clean your bathtub, Gumshoe. Show some class,” she said.

I went to the cabinet and got out the kit. I poured a carton of Epsom salts in the water and checked out her thumb. I was also checking out her body. What a package. She had a thick nest of curls between her knock-out legs and furry pits to match. Her pink nipples poked up through the water. The thumb was not broken, but her rods and pistons were out of whack. I taped it up. Then I took the alcohol to her cuts. Fingernails can leave a nasty infection.

“This is going to sting,” I warned.

“Don’t be so nelly. It doesn’t suit you.”

“These scratches will be gone soon, but that gash she gave you with the gun butt is going to leave a scar.”

“Good for my image. Let me do your back.”

I turned to her and she daubed the fiery liquid on my ripped flesh. I could feel the burn all the way down my back, a perfect ten stripes in my skin.

“Looks like she left her mark on you too, Gumshoe. Every girl you fuck for the next two years is going to ask ‘who was she?'”

“You need a pill? I got some left over from the last time I got my ass kicked.”

“How quick will they find us?”

“Cologne has my wallet.”

“I’ll pass on the pill, then,” she said. “I need to be sharp. They won’t try anything here as long as they think we have the niece. We’ll make sure they do.”

She rose from the tub and I became instantly aware that we were standing naked, a foot apart. My interest was obvious. She took my swelling cock in her hand.

“Playtime later, Gumshoe. We have work to do.”

She slipped back into her blouse and skirt. She left her underwear, tattered and damp, on my sink. She slipped on her spiked heels and sat on the throne to light a smoke.

“So, did you come up with a cunning plan to save our asses while you were soaking there in my tub?” I said.

“The plan is we stay alive. We kidnapped Benny “The Horse” Scarpetti’s niece. He can’t let us live. Which means we have to take his whole family out of the game or we will be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. ”

“How do you figure the two of us do that?”

“Benny is a walking cliché,” she said. “If we make him mad enough he will have to make a scene. He’ll call all his boys together for a big war council and order them out to bring him our heads in a bag or some shit. I say we hit the meet. We go in killing and we keep killing and we don’t walk out until Benny Scarpetti and his sick family are nothing but a bad memory.”

“Sounds workable,” I said. “How do we go about pissing off Uncle Benny that bad?”

“Have you ever heard screams over a telephone line? They have a far away, hopeless sound.”

“You really are a vicious bitch, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

I followed her into the bedroom. She took in the sight of JJ’s naked form spread-eagled on the sheets. JJ had her wits about her now and she was spitting mad.

“You fucks. You dead fucks. I will piss on your graves.”

Nobody sat down beside her on the bed. She stroked her smooth ass. Her hands took their liberty on her ass, her cunt, her defenses. She took JJ’s long hair in her fist and pulled her head back. The tie tightened around her throat. She growled in JJ’s ear.

“You are going to come across for me, bitch. Make no mistake about that. The question is how long you want to flirt before you put out. I want Benicio Scarpetti’s private number. You know it. I want it. I think you know where that leads. Gumshoe? Where do you keep your belts?”

I pointed to the dresser drawer. She opened it and took out a brown leather belt, as thick as a razor strop and half as wide. Without hesitation, she strapped JJ’s helpless ass. The thwack echoed off the bedroom walls like a gunshot.

“Uncle Benny’s number, bitch.”

JJ began to laugh. “Is that the best you got, you little cunt? ”

“Uncle Benny’s number,” Nobody repeated.

And she brought the whip down again across her victim’s cheeks. Red and purple stripes began to flare on JJ’s smooth skin. Her body began to buck and writhe. Her breath grew frenzied. This drove Nobody to increase her assault, her teeth bared, her arm a blur as she brought the leather down. JJ sucked in huge breaths, then roared them out again. As the belt cracked across her ass, she tilted it in the air like a cat in heat. She moaned from deep in her belly and came in a gush of juice. Nobody stepped back surprised. JJ laughed into the mattress.

“Mmmm, that was yummy,” JJ cooed. “Maybe I should give you MY phone number.”

Nobody seethed. She took the receiver off the phone and laid it by JJ’s face. She stepped over to where I was standing, still naked, against the wall. My cock was harder than Chinese algebra. She stood in front of me with a look of command and said, “Fuck her in the ass.”

“Do what?”

“You heard me, Gumshoe. Fuck that bitch up her ass. Hard.”

“Lady, I’m no choirboy, but I draw the line at rape,” I said.

“Rape? This slut has had more pipe laid in her than the L.A. sewer system.”

“I won’t do it.”

She slapped me hard across the face. I felt my hands turn to fists, but I felt my cock jump too.

“You are going to get on that bed and fuck that bitch or I am going to whip your ass like I whipped hers.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,” JJ chimed in from the bed, “Come fuck my ass. Fuck me good. It’s a sure bet this little mouse won’t give it to you like I will. Come on and fuck me, peeper. If you got enough lead in your pencil.”

Nobody took my cock in her fist and with her bandaged hand pulled my face down to hers. She brought her hot mouth to mine and she kissed me hard. I felt the world turn beneath my feet. I felt my will become hers. She spoke low in my ear, “Fuck her for me.”

JJ lifted her ass in the air. I got onto the bed between her shapely legs. I rubbed my cock in the wet mess of her cunt, then pressed the slick knob to her tight, little brownie. I thought of her nails on my back and I forced it in. JJ clenched then relaxed and my thick cock plunged into her bunghole. She screamed like a cat. I thought of her talons pinching my nipple and I began to thrust in and out, feeling her shudder with each pump. I thought of her scarring Nobody’s cheek and I started pounding her. My balls slapped at her wet cunt. I took a fist full of her hair and forced her face into the mattress. She growled and moaned. Her body began to buck. She started barking like a seal and shot a hot squirt of cum all over my bulging balls. I blasted my cum inside her, then ripped myself out and shot arcs of white jism to spatter her muscled back. I fell back against the footboard and watched JJ’s gaping bung slowly tighten back to a pucker. She moaned contented moans. I looked over to Miss Nobody and she was leaning against the wall, her hand under her skirt. Moisture gleamed off the skin of her inner thighs.

“You know, Miss Nobody, I don’t think this is having the desired effect,” I gasped.

“I didn’t think it would. The slut’s into it. I just wanted to watch you do it.”

The phone began to whine that it was off the hook and a look of nasty determination came over Nobody’s face.

“Gumshoe, I’m guessing you didn’t get that big skipping Thanksgiving dinners and I’m betting you have a turkey baster in your kitchen.”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Bring it… and the rubbing alcohol.”

JJ froze at the words. I did as Miss Nobody asked. She took the bottle and screwed off the cap, being sure that JJ could see every move. She filled the baster with the fiery juice and held it over JJ’s bloodied ass. She let one large drop splash on her battered bung and JJ shrieked. After a second and third drop the alcohol began to trickle down to her cunt. Nobody took the nozzle and slipped it in. JJ began to plead. She was whimpering when she stammered out the phone number. Nobody took the receiver. I dialed. Benny picked up on the first ring. I could hear him shouting as he picked up. Miss Nobody’ voice took on a cold, business tone.

“Benny Scarpetti?”

“Yeah. Who da fuck is this?”

“I’m the evil bitch who has your niece tied to her bed.”

“You fucking cunt, you are dead! Do you hear me? Dead!”

” Don’t have a stroke, Benny. You remember me? I’m the skirt you tried to ‘personally’ audition at the club. The one who told you they must call you The Horse because you like to play the ponies because it sure wasn’t because of your little dickie. The one you had your goons bend over the pool table so you could tease her twat with your inadequate little nubbin.”

“You fucking bitch! You rat bastard!”

“Relax, Uncle Benny. We are taking real good care of your little Princess. She might even live to suck your pee-pee again. Here. She can tell you herself.”

She put the phone next to JJ’s trembling mouth, rammed the baster into her cunt and squeezed the bulb. JJ screamed like her soul was being torn from her. The ranting on the phone stopped dead. I ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, the screams tearing at me. I looked into my eyes above the sink. A stranger looked back. This woman was capable of anything, even taking out the whole fucking Scarpetti mob. I burned with a lust for her like I had never felt. My cock grew hard again.

I went back to the bedroom. JJ was limp and simpering. Nobody was sitting on the edge of the bed, her elbows in JJ’s spine and her skirt hiked over her belly. Her legs were spread and her luscious cunt was open to me, wreathed in a tangle of curls, butterfly lips purple with lust, gleaming with wet anticipation. I stepped between her legs.

“No you don’t, Gumshoe. Don’t you even think about touching me with that cock after it’s been in this whore’s ass.”

She lifted her feet and dug her heels into the sheets.

“Eat my cunt. I’ll show this bitch some screaming.”

I dropped to my knees like a priest before the host. I kissed her wet slit and breathed in the scent of her sweat and her cum and her want. She fell back across JJ’s back and grabbed the tie around her throat. I ravaged her sopping cunt with my eager tongue. Her screams of pleasure floated down from the window to where Scarpetti’s nephew, in his lavender shirt and tailored grey suit, leaned on a lamppost. Each scream was a joy to me. I was helpless. I worshiped her down to her wicked soul. And as she came a gush of juices into my grateful mouth, she strangled Juliana Justina Scarpetti to death.

I don’t know how much time passed. My thoughts were not my own anymore. My will was not my own. She told me to dump JJ’s body in the tub and I did, without question, without hesitation. I dressed in black jeans, black sweater and combat boots. She started laying out my weapons on the kitchen table, checking their actions, counting shells and clips. She was casually naked. The sight of her breasts bobbing and the wiggle of her ass as she fed shells into the drum magazine of my M60 machine gun drove me wild with lust. I wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her hard, right there amid the bullets. But somebody knocked on the door. Nobody tossed me the sawed-off and grabbed up my .45. I ducked behind the sofa and aimed the shotgun at the door. She stood to the side and gripped the knob. She nodded at me. I nodded back and she flung the door open. There, looking sheepish, was Cologne.

Nobody grabbed his tie and yanked him inside. I shoved him into the easy chair and jammed the muzzle of the shotgun into his temple.

“Wait! Wait!” he screamed. “I just want to talk.”

“Talk fast, then,” I said. “Start by telling me why I shouldn’t blow your fucking head off.”

“Because I know things. Things you want to know,” he stammered.


“Like where Uncle Benny is. He’s called a meet.”

Nobody tossed me an “I told you so” look. I eased the shotgun away from his head.

“Why should you want to help us?” I asked. “A couple of hours ago you had me tied to a chair.”

Cologne looked down at his Italian shoes.

“Because… because now that JJ is dead, I’m next in line for the throne.”

“How do you know she’s dead?” Nobody asked.

“Because you’re not.”

Nobody looked at him for a while.

“Look,” he said, “Uncle Benny has this town locked up. Everything goes through him. Everybody works for him. Well, I want more. Benny wants you dead. Your only option is to kill him first. I can tell you where to get him. Good for you. Good for me.”

“I’m sold,” I said. “Spill.”

And he did. He told us that Benny had called in all his soldiers, all his crews, everybody. They were to meet at the old Electrician’s Union Hall. He gave us the time, the place and the layout. Nobody got a look in her eyes that frightened me. She was raring to go.

“Alright, Gumshoe, let’s do it. Tie him up and dump him in the tub with the bitch. If every word he’s told us isn’t true, I’m going to come back her and stick his balls in the microwave.”

I started to march him to the bathroom when she stopped us.

“Hold it,” she said. “I need works clothes. It’s a sure bet nothing of yours is going to fit me. Get naked, Cologne.”

He didn’t even begin to argue. He stripped with the grace of a man who was used to undressing in front of people. When he was naked, I bound and gagged him with duct tape and dropped him on top of JJ. He screamed and writhed like I had dropped him on hot coals. Tough shit. When I got back to the living room, Nobody was dressed in his suit. Her pant cuffs were rolled up and about a foot of belt flapped at her waist, but otherwise they fit. We loaded the trunk of my car with my arsenal and headed out.

The meeting hall was only about a couple of miles from my apartment. This is not that big a town. I stopped at a convenience store and bought a five gallon jug of spring water and a bottle of liquid soap. I dumped the water and filled the jug with gasoline and soap. I sealed the top and duct-taped one of my grenades to the side. Then we rolled on to Benny’s. Nobody was squirming in her seat. Her hand kept finding its way to my crotch. In the closed car, I could smell that she was turned on.

The Hall stood alone among vacant lots like a wino’s last tooth. It was surrounded by Cadillacs and SUVs. At the mouth of the alley behind the building I dowsed the headlights and killed the engine. I coasted up to the back door and stopped an inch before I hit it. According to Cologne, there were only two doors. The windows were covered with burglar bars. With my car blocking the back, the front door was the only way out.

We had covered the plan in the car on the way over, so we worked quickly, without words. Nobody took the M60 and headed around to the front. Her job was simple; kill anybody that came out the front door. I put the jug of homemade napalm in a duffle bag and slung it over one shoulder. Over the other I slung a bag of grenades. I grabbed the shotgun and climbed the fire escape to the roof. Cologne had told us true. The building was two floors of offices in the rear, but the front was a large meeting room, open to the ceiling two stories above. There was a skylight, looking down into the hall. There was no guard on the roof. Everyone was inside listening to Benny rant. I crept to the skylight and looked in.

The room was packed with enough men and guns to overthrow a third-world nation. Benny was on the stage at the back end, his scrawny body barely showing above the heavy, wooden podium. He was screaming and waving his arms. I couldn’t make out the words, but the crowd of thugs were nodding and pumping their fists. He was working them into a killing frenzy. The sight made what I was about to do a little easier.

I pulled the jug from the bag and set it by the skylight. I laid the shotgun and a half-dozen grenades beside me. I pulled the pin on the grenade strapped to the jug, raised it above my head and smashed it through the skylight. The grenade went off just as the jug hit the floor in the middle of the mob. In an instant the room was awash in flames and screams. Those who weren’t killed by the blast were on fire. They scrambled to the doors and windows. When they found them blocked, they began to pile onto to each other, clawing and scratching and burning. Those in the rear of the hall bolted towards the front door. I could hear the chatter of the M60 cutting them down as they emerged. I dropped another grenede through the broken glass. Then another. Then another. Then another.

When the grenades were gone, I grabbed up the shot gun, kicked in the door of the rooftop stairwell and headed down. A few of the thugs had found their way to the stairs and were heading up. The shotgun made short work of them. When I hit the bottom, the flames had begun to ignite the walls. I didn’t see anybody moving except one man; Benny Scarpetti. The podium must have shielded him from the blast and flames. I was lowering the shotgun towards him when I heard Nobody’s voice call through the flames.

“No! He’s mine.”

She came walking up the aisle, the M60 over her shoulder, stepping over smoldering bodies. Benny saw her and began to scramble away. She caught up to him and stood over him, her face glowing orange in the firelight and her teeth bared like a wild animal. He reached into his coat and raised a pistol in a shaking hand. She blew off his arm before he could aim it toward her. He shrieked like a monkey.

“Pick him up,” she demanded. I obeyed. She dropped the machine gun, reached into the pocket of Cologne’s jacket and pulled out the straight razor. With two quick slashes she cut his belt and his pants dropped around his ankles. She tore away his boxer shorts. She looked at his shriveled cock and withered balls and she laughed. Then, before I could say a word, she sliced them off and shoved them in his screaming mouth. Benny’s eyes rolled up in his head and I let him drop to the floor. She spit on his agonized face, turned to me and said, “Let’s go.” I followed her through the flames.


We got back to my apartment somehow. She drove, I think. I was moving like a zombie by this point. The stench of roasted flesh was in my nostrils and the sight of her wicked smile as she sliced off Benny’s dick was burned into my eyes. She was revving like a hot rod. When we got inside, she slammed me against the door and kissed me with a mad fury, her hands pawing at my cock. I somehow pushed her aside and went to check the bathroom. The tub was empty. Cologne must have chewed through the tape. He had taken JJ with him. I turned to see Nobody standing in the bathroom doorway. She had stripped off Cologne’s clothes and dropped them on the floor. Her muscles were taut and her breasts were heaving. I could see a gleam of wetness between her legs. Her hands were behind her back and she was twisting one toe in the carpet like a shy, little girl. She grinned at me.

“C’mon, Gumshoe. Reward time. Come fuck me. Come fuck me like you fucked the Scarpetti bitch.” Then she giggled and ran into the bedroom.

I splashed water on my face. It didn’t help. I felt like I was no longer part of the world. I started out of the bathroom, then doubled over and retched. Cologne’s clothes were in a pile at my feet. His wallet had fallen out of his pants. I picked it up. I’m not sure why, I guess to see what his real name was. His driver’s license said Julian Justin Scarpetti. Christ, he was JJ’s brother. And I had dumped him naked on his sister’s nude corpse. What had I become? And then I saw the picture tucked behind the license.

It was Cologne and a woman. They were in a beachside bar, fruity drinks in their hands, laughter in their eyes. His arm was around her and she was gazing lovingly up at him. Her hair was chopped short and there was a delicate scar at the edge of her mouth. Nobody. I felt like there were worms burrowing in my brain. I didn’t want it to make sense, but it did. Cologne needed Benny and JJ out of the way. He and Nobody had set me up to do it. I walked into the bedroom like I was walking to the gallows.

Nobody was on the bed, laying in the puddle of piss JJ had let out in her death throes. She was fingering her clit. When I came in she spread her legs wide and leered at me. I grabbed my robe from the hook on the door and tossed it to her.

“Let’s go up to the roof,” I said. “We should be able to see our handiwork from there.” I left. She followed.

Ten stories up we could see the glow of flames down in the warehouse district. Sirens filled the night air. Blue lights twirled in the darkness. Police and news helicopters hovered above the chaos. We stood at the edge of the roof. The wind flapped open her robe, revealing her body. That magnificent body. She pressed herself against me. I felt her hot breath on my chest. Her left hand groped my crotch. She stood on tip-toe and kissed me hard. Then she looked at me. There was something in her eyes that wasn’t sadness.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Me too,” I lied, and I shoved her off the roof.

She fell without a sound. My eyes took a thousand snapshots as she fell. I could see the robe flapping like angel wings. I could see the glint of the razor in her right hand. I could see her deep, brown eyes. She didn’t even look surprised. For the rest of my life I will try to forget the sound she made when she hit the sidewalk.

I walked back down to my apartment. I stripped off my clothes. They reeked of smoke and blood and sin. I grabbed a bottle of Jameson and got in the shower. I stood under the steaming water until it grew cold as my heart.


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