Not Quite a White Knight Pt. 02

I asked if our guys watching the scene had noticed anything unusual. Jax said there was one sighting, an older Mustang without plates had been by three times in the first 12 hours after our hack job. I said to get pictures, but there was no need for anything more.

Because it was a joint patrol, the Aztexs followed courtesy and outlined their payback plan to Jax, who gave our blessing. In the two hours between the press notification and the police notification, the Aztexs would execute three Black King leaders during their regular movements (stop cars by ramming, discharge AK-47s, reload and repeat as needed, then drive off - messy and public). Then soon after the police notification, when the overextended LAPD were also busy securing the street murder scene, the Aztexs would stage an assault on a drug warehouse that would have a dozen Black Kings on hand because there were large incoming and outgoing drug shipments in inventory. The guards would probably be playing cards or shooting hoops when the Aztexs hit them. (The Black Kings always put in a basketball hoop at their secret locations.) The plan was to use automatic weapons instead of explosives, that way the inventory would not be damaged. Observers from 49 would be at each scene, at the factory they had a perimeter assignment, and we would have a car equipped to track LAPD vehicle transponders on scene. This was gold to the Aztexs, and they would pay for it.

Some 49s had a personal grudge against the Black Kings and while we usually did not attack over such things, we allowed this exception if they made a few shots. We issued FN PS-90s and FN five-seven pistols to our guys; the Aztexs felt better if we knew who fired what bullets.

The drugs in question were mainly cocaine. 49 does not touch the stuff any more; we test members. Aztexs and Black Kings sell in overlapping territories and that probably was a factor in Friday's turf incident; the trio wanted some sales locations and the area really was a good one. Something told me the street price was about to spike upwards, which would draw more dealers out.

The drug shipments taken would make the whole operation profitable. As a partner, 49's cut was 30% off the top - after the price spike. They would offer us drugs (to resell for more profit) but we insisted on cash. We may be a street gang but we are also a for-profit corporation, so Jax's blessing involved financial consideration.

Jax said that after midnight - when the police would be securing all 3 scenes so manpower was stretched very thin, we would be moving some of our own high risk merchandise that had been waiting in secure storage. He was talking about some military-grade weapons we had stolen from another gang, some was pretty heavy. That was a smart plan so I said so. Jax was turning into a first-class Warlord.

I had a limo coming to the Casa at six to take me and my date to a business dinner. Until then I intended to enjoy Gracie's wonderful rosebud.

Then I twigged on something Jax said and decided to download Crown Vic's hard disk. I have cameras on Crown Vic (also the Marauder) that record things, the best eyes are in back. The car was at the Batcave so I remotely downloaded from the car to the computer there, then zapped the files to me on my secure data line. When I scanned the video I saw it - an old Mustang with no plates. It was blue and had one fender with primer only. There were 2 women in the front. Or guys in wigs.

I called Jax back. "That Mustang our guys spotted, what color and occupants?"

He shuffled the reports, then answered. "Blue, with a primer fender. Woman driver, second passenger unknown."

"Put out a take-down notice on the car. Capture alive while stopped only. Otherwise just report. Do not chase, do not follow."

"What is the deal?"

"That car is a hostile scout. It was waiting 3 blocks from the basement, watching 2 of the 3 routes out of the area. It followed me for three blocks, enough to get the plate, then turned off."

"Your plates are a dead end, right? If they are run?"

"Yes, plus I will hear about it. But they do ID the car if they see it again and are too valuable to change."

I filed the problem for later.

-

I had said that I wanted Gracie to be bagged by 7:30 in the morning, even though I knew I would get to her closer to 10:00. She probably heard me in the house around 9:00, but I did not show myself until 9:30. It was a test.

Just as I expected, when I came in she raised her voice about how I was late and how she missed me so much, and how could I do that to her? The loud, shrieking voice was especially irritating to me.

I backhanded her, hitting her exactly hard enough not to screw up any dental work.

She was naked and her pussy was wet so I took her where she fell, but I was uncomfortable on the floor so it gave me no pleasure - and after a minute or two it did threaten to give her some creamy positive feedback. Wrong message! I pulled out and took a breath.

I deliberately stopped my own climb towards climax and exercised some willpower. Then I turned her over, stuck my softening, pussy-wet cock in her ass with zero prep, relaxed part of my body and gifted her a quick piss enema. I got soft quickly so I slipped out before I was all done. What didn't go inside went outside.

(Guys know that a piss enema is really a difficult trick unless you train your body to screw up. The thing is, when a guy is hard we normally cannot piss, it is a universal gift to women from evolution. But when we are soft we can't keep the limp cock up her ass, it gets pushed out because that is how that business works. So for a layman delivering significant piss up the ass is really more a matter of judgement and mental effort. I am better than most at mental stuff, but it is not something I have a lot of practice with.)

When I was done I left. She was a mess but she knew where the cleaning supplies were.

The whole time I had not said a word, sometimes that is the loudest way to make a point.

Her voice triggered the test - and my reaction - exactly as I expected. Any spoiled American brat of privilege would act the same way at being kept waiting so long. It was how they were programmed. I had treated her nice for a few hours when my cock was hard, so she thought that the best from yesterday was the starting point for today. The abuse was a stab at reprogramming. But the real test was what she did after the abuse. Would her responses signal life or death? I watched her to see. While I watched I worked on the release plan and the hardware needed. She was smart, I figured it was 2-to-1 odds that I would release her.

Plus I looked for the Mustang to show up again on the files. The driver was well trained, he did not show.

The first thing Gracie had to do was clean herself up. She hesitated to remove the bag, but she realized it was required, and after she found the scissors she figured out I had arranged things so she could remove it. While she was in the bathroom - it took awhile, starting with a enema - I put the (too) hot food and a clean bag on the table. When she came out she noticed, said a meek "Thank you" to the camera, but she wisely left them until the space was cleaned up. Cleaning up was sweaty work so she showered herself again, but she knew I was going anal today so she did a second cleansing enema before the shower. Then she ate - the food temperature was just about right - going through two of the four meals. She avoided the kale and did eat the waffle with whipped cream and berries on the side plus the really good ham steak. When she was done eating she cleaned up the table, put on the bag, then sat calmly, waiting for my pleasure.

I was not her boyfriend, but by her programming she had treated me like the type of boyfriend she usually stepped on because it was what she had always done. I had just explained the rules without words - that way she could not argue the wording later. The question now was if she could adapt and change her behavior. The signs thus far were hopeful. We would see.

She sat up straight as she heard me enter. I could tell that she was undecided about saying anything or not. There was nothing to say, really. All she could do is show me she had learned her lesson, or not. I watched her body language. Finally she settled down without saying anything, and I took that as a good sign. I stood there for another minute, then took her hand very lightly told her what I was planning as I led her down to the playroom. She was literally aquiver with relief that I was going to abuse her some more, and I sounded like I was going to enjoy her, not kill her. She already knew the main rule, abuse meant orgasms for all and life for another day.

-

To sharpen our focus up a bit I wanted her to talk some more about what she wanted. I knew what I was going to do, but I wanted to see her ideas and plant some of my own. So I set her down on the bed and took a chair.

My first question had to do with pain. Was she still interested in more pain? If she could tell me specifics it would help.

"Yes... well, maybe yes and no. Okay, I am not interested in injury at all. But pain? Yes, a little. For instance, if you want my ass, which you know is kind of an appealing to me, I would appreciate some lube. But if things were a little underlubed, plus if my bottom was sharply stimulated a bit before or during the pleasure, that level of discomfort would be okay with me. The device you called the tension-sex-table was very nice in what it did, it was so much better than I thought possible. But I guess I don't need to feel so accommodated... so comfortable. I have to say that one of the things I was looking forward to was the guys going one after the other rapidly in series... taking me past the exhaustion point."

I had some minor toys that could help there, but I wasn't in the mood just now. "We will not be having anyone join us... I am not a 'sharing' sort of guy. I do have some ideas that might help in that direction, but not today." I had a new sex machine from Kinky Valley Xelectric I was curious to try on somebody. That would work. Maybe Monday.

Next I asked her about her butt. "It is very attractive, and the first time my finger visited... well, you seemed very receptive and well-trained."

"Most of my experience has been toys - the type with suction cups - plus there were some other girl's with strap-ons. Do you know the Capricez girls?"

I did, very well in fact. But I did not respond.

"Most of my wimpy guys won't do my ass... they figure it ends the evening too quickly and is too messy for their precious little cocks. They always want the same thing, the same two positions... To hear them whine you'd think 'reverse cowgirl' was a mortal sin. Boring! I know, I play with the wrong type of guys. I confess that I like anal sex, it is how I usually get myself off in the shower. Then I met those Capricez girls with their toys for my butt and they were fantastic. They did me in pairs that made me laugh and cry and cum all at the same time. Expensive, but everything this girl could ask for. Do you know if they do guys?"

That was something I knew very well, from several delightful personal experiences. They were always top drawer. Plus I once wrote a note for my judge when a case involving a Capricez Girl was appealed to his court - a long road to be sure. It seems one of the girls was using a straight razor when she was caught 'disarming' a pimp who was in their territory. Pimps usually figure girls are unarmed and can be beaten with impunity. She was a fighter who showed some bruises after, although the pimp claimed they were fake, and his "pimp stick" which she took away was because of his handicap. The local DA hated the case, it made him look bad no matter what, but what could he do with both sides having influential individuals with a strong interest in the case? The pimp eventually served 10 days in jail and was then cut to pieces the day he got out. 5 women attacked him with razors while 2 other women held his bodyguards at gunpoint - after a kneecapping or two. The bodyguards swore that some of the alleged women were guys in drag.

The three girls I shared with Cosmo just last Wednesday were Capricez girls. Still, I pleaded ignorance to Gracie. It was better if she was going to live.

I knew the Capricez girls steered away from bondage so diverted in that direction. "I take it that anal sex in bondage is new to you?"

"Of yes... but I would be willing to try."

Music to my ear, I had just the thing.

-

Chapter 10. The X-Cross

Bondage and sex machines usually take a lot of time and co-operation to set up. But that is not my style, so my machines were selected for me to use alone with a guest, and quickly. I led Gracie to the machine I decided to use next.

The cross is a standard in many playrooms, but usually these require three strong people working together to use effectively, and they often injure somebody getting the occupant into position. Plus they never do what you expect. A lot of risk for not much results. However, I have a motorized cross that does an excellent job for one-man operation. It looks a little strange to folks who see it collapsed, pre-embrace. But once occupied and erect it is unmistakeable.

This was a X-cross design instead of the traditional "T" form. One selling point was that when erect, I could change the angle between the two cross-members, sort of like a scissors going from wide open to a more closed position. Since the victims upper attachment points were fixed on the cross-member, this changed the stress on the person attached.

To make it so one person can operate the cross, it folded or collapsed, the two cross-members folded down at their midpoint. Victims could be bent forward, so they would face the cross; or they could lie back, to be attached facing away from the cross. There were provisions for head-down occupancy as well; hanging a woman head-down then eating her could get her real crazy. Attachment for the arms used the same bindings as the tension table. In the fully collapsed position the victim could be attached without any weight or tension on them, making it relatively easy. Once all was ready, hydraulic pistons brought the upper arms to a raised position straight in line with the lower arms. Then the arms could 'scissors' as desired so the occupant was stretched and lifted, suspended by their arms.

There were several options for the feet - hanging free, bound to the cross-members, or supported on attachments like bicycle peddles which could be bondage points or not. In the fully raised position without foot support it was a very slow death. Since the machine was made and sold in California it came with a warning and a quick release that the victim could operate - when that wasn't disabled.

I told Gracie what I was planning and she had some questions.

"Did the Romans really use crosses for women?" she asked.

"This is not a Roman cross, those are boring for serious sex-play because they are pure pain and lousy access to the good parts. This is an X-cross, also called a "Greek cross." But to answer your question, yes... there is a case record of a woman who poisoned somebody... women and poisons you know. Then there was the whole Sparticus gladiator and slave revolt where all the slaves, male and female, ended up on crosses lining the Apian Way - a sort of major highway. It was the standard punishment for escaped slaves in Italy. The Romans had a lot to fear from their many slaves so they made the punishment for escape or raising a hand against a master as terrible as they could. Of course, the Greeks and the Phoenicians used the cross long before Rome did; Alexander the Great used thousands one afternoon so most of the city of Tyre had a bad day. Rome stole ideas from everybody."

I bent Gracie forward and attached her arms so she was facing the cross, attaching her with the the same hand and arm bindings I had used yesterday. She knew she was on a different structure, because her hands were far apart (the scissors was open wide) while on the tension table they were set close together. Also, the collapsed cross was much higher - relative to the movable false floor - when she was bent over. She seemed confused by what I was doing.

"Gracie, you are beautiful, irresistible even. You know this. I cannot help myself and what I desire. For this exercise I intended to explore your magnificent bottom, and that works better if you face the cross. It can embrace you either way." Once the cross is raised I will have access to her bottom and, by going around, to her wonderful tits. I set her arms to support part of her weight but not all, to help I positioned her feet to the foot rests. She still had no idea what was going on. Last I hooked up the heart monitor and blood-oxygen sensors; it would be sloppy to kill somebody by accident.

She wondered about splinters on her front, but of course the structure was mostly metal, the few wood parts were easy-to-clean varnished and waxed polished wood with a clear hard coating. It was padded in at the contact points.

After she was attached to the cross I told her that I was giving myself permission to play with her body a little harder today. As she was still bent forward, I handled her tits and pussy for a bit. She was looking forward to being sexed, juicing when I fingered her, so when I twisted her nipples she could smell herself on my fingers. I gave in to temptation and put my cock into her pussy, the angle did not work for a solid fucking but it went in easy and felt extremely good. I could not avoid fucking her for a bit while she was bent over, and she responded like the perfect wet dream; complete with wet sound effects below and moans of pleasure above.

When I took myself out I played with her wonderful bottom and her naughty little back hole. Just like yesterday, when I ran my finger down her cleft she bore down and pushed out when the tip of my finger ran over her rear entrance. I slipped right in, going halfway to my knuckle. She loved it. I loved it. We were going to have a good time. I slipped a thin lubed butt plug in, I wanted her tight for me and a little lube was for my comfort. As before she automatically 'bore down' so the toy went in easy. She moaned with pleasure as the toy into her body, it went in farther than my finger had.

When all was set she was aroused and wanted something to happen so I activated the motors. First the cross members straightened from their folded position, lifting her body from the 'bent over, on her belly' to an upright position 'hanging against the arms of the cross' by her wrists and arms. Without the foot supports the strain on her arms and shoulders would have been a significant distraction, but with support from her legs she was okay. When she was up I scissored the cross members so they were at 30% closer then 'wide-open' to a point. This naturally lifted her body so her arms started to take some real weight. She was a healthy girl, strong enough to do chin-ups and such, and I had seen how much strain she could take yesterday with the tension table. Today the foot peddles helping to support her weight so it was not too much for her. Still, she was rather distressed by the hanging position she found herself in, it felt unnatural because she had few movement options. She was hanging much like a side of beef, admittedly a well-supported side of beef, but still hanging.

Once she was in an upright position and I had my floor height adjusted, I began the warm-up of her wonderful bottom. I started with a light flogger, which I called the fly-swatter. The first strike was quite loud, and was totally unexpected, but the flogger had almost no weight so the shock of the first slap was more surprise than actual pain. Still, hearing the noise of your own body being struck plays with the mind. After a few lightweight strokes I threw in a few strokes with a heavier flogger which did hurt, just to keep her interest up. I did not want to bore her. After four shots with the heavy I went back to the lightweight. After about 10 minutes I switched to a medium flogger that gave both some noise and some pain. It was only a half-dozen strokes, but the variety kept her going. I wanted to see her bottom glowing bright red, and for that I really had to try everything.