004

Chapter Four

Stiffness shoots up his back and a sheer pain stabs in his left shoulder. The cold dampness bites all the way to the bone. The only warmth comes from Alieana who is curled up, sleeping between his legs. Fergus is lying on his back with his arms folded comfortably behind his head and his shotgun close at his side. The tiny Raul is in a ball next to the smoldering coals lost in an extremely deep sleep. Torri and Faux are bundled together leaning up against the cage, locked in each others arms for warmth. As Saul shifts, Alieana stirs and moves to the side placing her face on his slowly pulsating chest. Her beautiful sleeping face gives Saul a warm feeling that had he had been absent of for some time. After spending five years in outer space, it has been too long since he's felt the soft, sensual touch of a beautiful woman. Now, just the simple body contact sends his heart twisting with testosterone.

The sky is a dark gray as the sun prepares to rise upon another day. The dead bodies of the bandits and their dogs are still scattered about carelessly and look even more grizzly in the fresh daylight. The bright morning also helps to highlight the severity of emaciation Faux and Raul had acquired. Alieana's clothes hang off of Faux's frail shoulders and spindly arms like rags on a coat rack while Raul's face is pale and gaunt with every line accentuated by starvation. He looks like a small, gentle ghost child.

Enjoying the presence of a woman and sitting in silence,  Saul wonders how much further it is to Glasgow, and whether or not the rumors are even true. How were they so confident there really were people there? And what's to say that once they got there they wouldn't just find a giant colony of bandits or psychos or rapists? And where was Johan right now? Saul had begun to accept the fact that he would never see his best friend again. Lost in his unending daydreams about what the future would hold, Alieana wakes and smiles up at him. As she prods him from his daze, he jumps with a start when she greats him.

"'Morning."

"Hey."

"Did you hear that?" Alieana groans and looks off towards the rusty cage.

"I didn't hear anything."

"Wait."

Alieana falls silent once again and sure enough a few seconds later a scuffle drifts to their ears from behind the cage followed by a low whimpering. Saul instinctively places his right hand on his pistol and moves stiffly to his feet. Wary of the noises, Alieana quickly grasps his arm.

"No, don't leave me."

"I'm just gonna take a look," Saul reassures her and stands to his feet. As he takes his first step, his hamstrings knot up. A product of spending the cold, damp night in the same unnatural position.

Cautiously, with his hand on his sidearm, Saul moves to the cage. Sidestepping around the crude metal prison, the mud on the ground squishes up around his waterlogged boots. Rustling around behind the cage, Saul finds yet another odd beast of this new world, which is also completely new to him. The beast standing in the mud before him looks to be a very small wolly ox or cow. Its small horns are a glistening black color giving the impression of being extremely sharp and diamond-hard. Its eyes are bright red and its fur a wiry blackish silver. Drawn by the new movements, red eyes shoot to Saul causing the timid mammal to take a stumbling step backwards. With a look of terror in its eye, it opens its mouth and begins to cry out with an infantile moan. Looking around in confusion, Saul doesn't know quite what to do.

Fergus is soon awoken by the ox calf's unceasing grunts and moans. Stumbling to where Saul stands, the big man scowls as if to ask Saul what is going on. His answer comes when the ground starts to rumble. Underfoot, gargantuan behemoths seam to rampage causing an earth shattering pulse that an any moment will open a fissure straight into the purgatory depths of hell. Seconds later, another ox gallops up over the nearest hill. Only this ox is a hulking beast with fury rather then fear in it's eyes. It locks its fiery vision on Saul and Fergus and storms down the embankment grunting and snorting sending mutated ox mucus in every direction.

"F**k," Fergus grumbles and draws his Desert Eagle. Following his partner's action, Saul draws his Beretta. Fergus cooly raises his pistol and aims as the hulking animal hurdles toward them grunting and spitting with rage. Fergus squeezes off a shot and its hits the animal square in the head. His jaws drop and his stomach lurches when the shell hits the incandescent horns and ricochets off in a cloud of silvery dust. Stepping back in disbelief, the big man pushes Saul away with haste. 

"Run!"

Saul sprints to the left leaving the beast confused for a second as Fergus runs right. While strafing to the side, Fergus puts five more shots into the animal, only this time into its torso. The massive .50 caliber shells blow up large mounds of flesh as they hot home with force. It grunts with pain and turns on Fergus. With it's back to him, Saul unloads the Beretta 9mm into it's hindquarters. The back legs of the hulking animal buckle and its bottom falls into a pool of blood as it lets out an agonized moan. Fergus steps forward and looks the great beast in its furious red eyes. With the calf having run back to the rest of the heard, Fergus decides to end there struggle. With the ox belting out ear shattering war cries, Fergus sticks the barrel of the Desert Eagle in it's mouth and squeezes the trigger with extreme prejudice. A splatter of thick blood and bone dot his face as a shot rings out and the cries abruptly cease.

"What the hell!" Alieana rounds the corner. When she beholds the gory horror, she runs to Saul's side.

"It charged."

"Are you okay?"

"Mmmm."

"Let's get the hell outta here," Fergus rolls up his sleeves and smears the blood off his face, "the sun's up, we need ta get ta Glasgow."

"I'll wake the young ones," Alieana turns to get her sister and the two other kids awake. Saul turns back to Fergus with a quizzical expression.

"How far is Glasgow?"

"Should be there ona next day."

As Fergus threads .50 caliber shells into his clip, tops it off, slides it back into the handle, and jacks a shell into the chamber with a snap of the slide, Alieana emerges once again from around the cage with Torri, Faux, and Raul. They all hold hands with their packs slung around their shoulders ready to go. Without another word, Fergus turns and strides away from the small, body strewn camp site. Saul jogs back to his bag and rifle and follows Fergus. Alieana is right beside him. She glances back at the rag tag trio following them, hands locked and faces glum, and it brings a tear to her eye. Saul notices and wipes the droplet away.

"What's the matter?"

"Why has god done this? They're only kids."

"God? What god? Was there ever a god?"

"There has to be... right?"

"Well," Saul looks into her eyes, "if there is, he's one sick sadistic son of a b***h. I mean look around you, what terrible being would ordain such a pitiful mess?"

Alieana just looks into his eyes and smiles slightly, not saying anything else on the matter, Saul comfortingly puts his arm around her shoulder and she moves closer to his body. They continue to walk in sad silence.

As the day goes on they don't see much in the way of life. At midday, a group of giant vultures circle around giving a very grave and hopeless feel. The behemoth birds circle in silence baring silver talons attached to jet black bodies. Their wings spread out to the size of a small Cessna airplane and their heads are a deep blood red. Alieana gazes up at them and clutches at Saul's arm with goose bumps going up her body. Faux and Raul continue to nibble on some canned potatoes, gradually gaining their energy back. Torri craddles her Luger in her palms, rubbing it almost as if it were a pet. The cold black steel that affords her so much power over those she wishes to play with. The landscape around them is now rocky and dry. No grass, no trees, just brown and gray.

The sun is slowly setting behind the hilly landscape. A brilliant red bulbous ball of gases burning at a temperature unfathomable to humans. Raul trips and falls, shattering the awe inspired silence and breaking the boy's knee open. From the wound, blood instantly begins to gush, he cries out more from the site of his own blood then the actual pain. The boy's loving sister, Faux clamors to her brother's side and wraps him in her embrace to help quell his hysteria.

"Are you okay? It's alright buddy, it's just a scratch."

"Here, I have a first aid kit," Alieana runs to Raul where she tosses her backpack  to the ground and removes a white steel box painted with a red cross. Raul takes one look at the medical supplies and one look at Fergus who watches on from a dozen yards away. With a deep breath of courage, the wounded boy stands to his feet, wipes the cluster of tears from his eyes and cheeks, and looks ready to move on with their day.

"Im okay."

"At least put a band-aid on it," Alieana orders kindly. Raul reluctantly takes it and sticks it over the wound on his knee. Fergus claps his hands together and looks around at the group expectantly.

"We ready ta keep movin'?"

"Mhm," Raul nods and strides toughly to Fergus' side.

"Damn right," Fergus smiles and rubs the child's head playfully with his bear paw of a hand. Fergus turns to continue their journey with the tiny Raul strutting along beside him.

"Looks like someone found some confidence," Alieana chuckles as she packs the first aid kit up.

"Yeah," Faux stands with a grave expression painting her face. The one person in the world that still needed her help was so quickly growing up and away from her. Who else did she have left now? Noticing her heartbroken, with slumped shoulders, slouched back, and melancholy face, Torri stands and puts her arm around Faux's shoulder. With depressed girl feeling slightly better, they quickly catch up to the hulking Fergus and the arrogant little Raul.

Just before dark, they come upon an old burned out campsite much like the one from the night before. The fire pit is a charred black hole with only a few coals remaining. The skeleton of an ox sits behind a rusted out old Ford pickup truck. Saul scavenges about and as he turns the corner around the old Ford, he sees something that makes his stomach jump from inside him. Lying before him on the ground sits the old Luger that Fergus had given Johan just before he stormed off into the wasteland. The clip and chamber are empty and it sits in a coagulated puddle of blood and a severed arm. Saul wrenches over clenching as he gags at the gruesome sight.

"Son of a b***h..."

"What is it?" Alieana runs to his side and gasps.

"I guess we know what happened to Johan," he turns away.

"Im so sorry," Alieana gives him a big hug and kisses his chin as its as high as she can reach.

"Lets go," Saul puts his arm around the beautiful Alieana, kisses her forehead, and walks away in a daze. Fergus looks at them quizzically as he lifts a tiny pink bra from the dirt with a shudder.

"What was it?"

"Nothing."

"Alrigh' then, lets move. Nah much tah see here," Fergus drops the bra and walks away from the campsite with his little admirer right by his side. Saul follows with Alieana held close, her closeness helps him overcome the obvious loss of Johan. Torri and Faux, who are holding each other even tighter then Saul and Alieana, follow right behind them. Lifting her head to address her sister, Torri looks back at the campsite longingly.

"Why couldn't we have used that campsite to rest for the night?"

"Because," Alieana replies quickly.

"But we're tired."

"I think we all are. But the quicker we get to Glasgow the safer we'll be. I don't want to spend another night out here."

"But-"

"There it is,"Fergus crests the hill before them and peers down to a completely wrecked city. Glasgow appears very similar to Edinburgh accept for the size difference, Glasgow is much larger. Most of the city is in complete darkness, but directly in the center there is a cluster of lights and the hum of generators. Also, in the center of the lighted area rages a blazing bonfire.

"We made it?" Saul sighs.

"We made be'er time than I thou'," Fergus eases the vice grip on his shotgun.

"How do we know they will take us in?" Alieana slightly extinguishes their excitement.

"I guess we'll just have to convince them," Saul chuckles and moves to the top of the hill to Fergus who laughs deeply and pats Saul on the shoulder.

They stroll down the pitch black hill drawing closer to the dim light. The fire's immense warmth can already be felt on their longing faces. Woodsmoke fills their nostrils which is a refreshing scent after the aroma of body odor and decomposing human flesh of the wastes. Old skyscrapers reach into the star filed sky like shadowy leviathans sadly watching over their phantom metropolis. Drawing closer to the light, it becomes evident that the settlement has been set up in an older part of the city for all the buildings are built of either stone or brick topped with thatched or timber roofs. Fergus steps into the brilliance of a large flood light illuminating a large gate, the entry way to the haven.

"Halt!" a voice rings out. "Who goes there?"

"We be lookin' fer a place to stay," Fergus explains.

"Yea? Well who aint?" the voice barks back, the accent oddly enough sounds Jamaican. Fergus clears his throat to continue their desperate plea for an ounce of human compassion.

"I un'erstand. Bu' I'm sure we could offer some assistance to yer."

"We don need help... nah leave."

"We 'ave ammo 'n' first aid supplies, and we all be willing and able fighters if yer give us a chance."

"God damnit, don't make me sho-" he's cut off. They hear whispering from behind the reinforced gate and a disapproving groan.

"Come on in," the voice is extremely put out sounding, "do anythin' stupid and I won't hesitate ta shoot ya'. Thats tha only warnin' you'll git."

As they limp through the lifted gate, their gaze falls upon a short black man. His eyes are mean and dark brown while long dreadlocks shoot off of his scalp in every direction like a large wooly spider. His pudgy nose stands out due to the large cattle ring dangling from it's center cartilage. He doesn't stand very tall but his body is incredibly lean and muscular etched with crude tattoos which stand out on his arms which hang out of a black kevlar, bullet proof vest. Black strong hands grip tightly at the meanest looking Thompson machine gun Saul has ever seen. It looks to be very customized, outfitted with a laser site under the barrel, an immense one-hundred round magazine and a jet black varnish it looks like some crude space age weapon made for the sole purpose of piling up bodies. At the sight of the small crowd of new arrivals, the dark-skinned sentry begins to huff and puff with aggravation.

"Christ, how many of you are der?"

"Six," Fergus replies.

"Goddamn," he growls, slings the Tommy gun behind him, and pulls out a raggedy old log book. "I need yer names and ages."

"What fer?" Fergus is cautious.

"We keep track of everyone here, just for precautions. That a problem red?"

"I be Fergus O'Flaherty an' I be twenty-seven," the guard scratches down the info.

"I'm Saul Odadjian, twenty-seven."

"How tha f**k ya spell that?"

"Figure it out," Fergus spits.

"How 'bout you doll face?" he glances at Alieana

"Alieana Reed, twenty."

"Okay, who's the little one?"

"This is-" Fergus starts.

"Raul Davies!"

"How old are ya?"

"Six!"

"Okay, and you two cutie pies?"

"Torri Reed and Faux Davies," Torri speaks up with malice in her eyes, "we're both fifteen."

"Very well," he scratches the last names down and puts the log book back. With the sole purpose of intimidation, he again readys his beastly machine gun.

"Im Ramell Kingston, town guard and number one mean sonovabitch."

"Were you from Ramell?" Saul asks while walking by.

"Jamaica man."

"How'd you end up here?"

"I worked for a company dat was a private contractor," he explains. "We ran security at different businesses 'round Glasgow. We got guys here from all 'round the world. Jamaica, Russia, Iran, Brazil, hell, even America and Japan."

"There are Americans here?"

"A few," Ramell pauses. "Ask 'round fer Marty and Jarrett Lee. They be American. Now get inside so I can shut the damn gate." He ushers them through and the gate clatters down behind them. Alieana turns back to Ramel with more concern in her voice.

"Where can we get some sleep?"

"Go to O'Brien's," he suggests. "Walk straight ahead and you'll see an old pub wit' a large wooden sign wit' a hogs head painted on her. Thats the place, tell em Ramell let ya in. Although he may ask a favor in exchange for some beds. Now go, your wastin' my time."

He turns back to look out over the dark black city. His dark face is serious and void of any emotion besides his obvious anger. Who knows what losses this man had attained at the hands of the apocalypse. Did he have any family? Were they all still in Jamaica? Not that it really mattered, he was just one of another billion stories of the human state in this new, terrifying world.

"Let's go. I could use a warm, dry bed," Fergus tosses his shotgun over his shoulder and strolls ahead. Everyone else silently follows.

The town is eerily vacant as most people are busy sleeping. The setting is very reminiscent of an old medieval town with its crude stone buildings, thatched timber roofs, woodsmoke, and the strong smell of mold and livestock. The ground under their feet has turned from cracked pavement to muddy gravel. Chickens cluck and pigs grunt in the background above the hum of many generators. They pass by ten civilian dwellings when they arrive at a two story stone building with a large wooden sign hanging above the door. A mean looking hogs head it etched into the thick walnut slab. Fergus turns to the Saul with approval and eases the door open. Creeping through the door, they find themselves in a very ancient setting. The air inside is warm and smokey, smelling of burning cherrywood, roast pork, and some kind of hallucinogenic herb. A bar is set up in the center of the room with a round, bearded, cherry faced man behind it lost in a restless sleep. The walls are lined with posters of various different liquors and nameless, giant breasted glamour models from a world that no longer exists. The bar isn't, however, completely vacant. Two scantily dressed woman lean in the corner hardly taking notice of the new visitors. Fergus approaches the slumbering man, whose spit dribbles down onto the filthy bar. He greats the barkeep with his right hand slapping down loudly inches from the bearded face.

"Ya got any vacant rooms?"

"Bah! Hey!" the man wakes with a start grasping at an old wooden club. "Who goes there?!"

"Are ya O'Brien?"

"I be," he gawks up at Fergus through his bushy beard and glazed over, bloodshot eyes.

"We need a place ta stay."

"Well, yer can't stay fer free."

"We don't have any money," Alieana cuts in.

"There's always.... other ways," he grins slyly and gives Alieana devilish wink.

"Nice try you plump little pig, we heard you take favors but that aint what we're offering," Saul raises his voice.

"Aye! I'll cut yer a deal, I got some big'eaded chump in room one. He got drunk an' beat up Petunia o'er there," he points to one of the woman in the corner who they see has a black eye and split lip to go along with her ruffled hair, running makeup and obvious burn marks dotting her skin. Fergus rubs his face with intrigue and nods his head.

"Go on."

"Well if that aint enough, he then locks himself in the room wivout payin'" O'Brien looks angry. "he's got two of the other girls in there wiv him. I hear em scream every once in awhile. I don't know where he came from bu' hes bad news. He aint got no friends and he bout the size of yer arm. Take care of it."

"Done deal," Fergus smacks his hand on the table with another ear splitting snap, and turns to ascend the stairs.

"One more thing."

"Yea?"

"Sidearms only. I'll need to take that shotgun and machine gun 'till yer leave, it's town policy.

"No problem," Fergus sets the shotgun on the bar along with a large bag of shells. Saul does the same with his AK.

"Wait here," Saul takes Alieana's hand.

"Okay."

"Shouldn't take too long," Fergus pulls his pants up jokingly.

Fergus is first up the stairs with Saul close behind. They reach the top of the flight and find themselves looking down a long hallway. There are five doors on each side and one at the very end reading PRIVATE! in big red letters. Fergus grins and leans against the sill of the door imprinted with a #1. He clenches a fist with the knuckle of his pointer finger jutted out and gently raps on the door. There is a momentary pause followed by a scuffle and the screech of a frightened girl.

"I told ya ta leave me 'lone O'Brien, yer fat f**k!" the voice is slurred and obviously inebriated. Fergus just chuckles and knocks again, this time with authority.

"Ya fat som'of'a'b***h!" the man hollers followed a loud smacking noise and another distressed cry.

"Why don' ya say that ter muh face yer p***y framed c**k shiner," Fergus chuckles loudly.

"Who tha f**k?" they hear the man stumble to the door. A second later, a slot in the door opens and two bloodshot eyes peer out at them.

"Hey sunshine," Fergus smiles his black toothed grin.

"I don' know yer. Leave me be..."

"We got a complaint," Fergus drawls.

"Fer what?"

"Now now, no need ter holler," Fergus smiles wide.

"F**k off."

"You firs'," Fergus unsnaps his Desert Eagle and grasps it by the barrel. Swinging it like a hammer, he smashes the drunk man between the eyes with the handle of the shiny sidearm. The man yelps and stumbles backwards. Fergus steps back and re-holsters the pistol. Saul moves back a half step, kicks his right leg forward sending the flat of his boot smashing into the door. The sill splinters and the door flings open. The two girls inside scream and cower in fear. One has two black eyes and a crooked, broken nose and is wearing absolutely nothing. Her small breasts are also reddened and scratched. The second looks almost unscathed. She is wearing only a white thong and her breasts are enormous for her small frame, they most certainly are fake. They stand together and scamper over the writhing man, the second one's breasts bouncing in every direction. Fergus hops inside after the girls have cleared away and grasps the man by the collar. With one motion, Fergus flings the small man into the wall holding him well off of his feet. The man sobs and begs for mercy like the coward he is.

"Please, please don't hurt me."

"Don' hurt yer?" Fergus bellows joyously.

"Please..."

"What did you do when that poor girl asked you to stop?" Saul cuts in.

"I...I...I-"

"Thats wha' I thought," Fergus spins the man around and slams him into the opposite wall knocking the wind out of the tiny fellow and sending dust falling from the ceiling.

"Hear us out you little p***y," Saul spits in his face, "get the f**k out of here. Never come back and never let us see your sorry a*s again. You got that?"

"F-f**k y-you..."

"Ah we got us a tough guy, yer wants ter play rough? I can do 'at fer ya," Fergus carries the small man by the scruff of the neck out of the room and stands over the long, steep stairs.

"Want to reconsider?" Saul bargains but the man just spits more blood.

"Ya asked fer it."

With a half assed motion, Fergus lobs the man down the steps. Many deep thuds ring out as the man tumbles downward and sprawls out on the floor below. He lays unconscious. Saul is first down the stairs followed by Fergus who is dusting his hands off from a job well done.

"Will the guards want to deal with him?" Saul asks O'Brien.

"Nah. They're only concerned wit' dem bandits. Hey, I'll tell ya what."

O'Brien waddles to a door behind the bar and opens it up. Lifting a large coil of rope he waddles out to the motionless body.

"Tie 'im up an set 'im in tha back. We'll deal with 'im in tha mornin'. Now go get some rest," he waddles away without another word up the stairs and into the room marked with the private sign. Saul quickly bounds the man and Fergus hauls him into the back room. His mouth is stuffed with rags and taped shut. Just as they move to ascend the stairs for sleep, the beautiful, mammoth breasted woman they saved strolls to Saul with her breasts popping out of her newfound miniscule top, almost as an invitation.

"Thanks sexy," she coos a little and playfully pushes her impressive rack together and gives him a wink, "how about i join you?"

"I, um, no thanks," Saul pulls Alieana towards him.

"Oh, I gotcha," the w***e sighs. "How 'bout you big boy?" she runs her hand down Fergus' chest.

"Are them real?"

"You bet yer a*s," she grasps his large hands and places it on the other b**b. "Boy oh boy, you have some big ole hands, you know what they say about big hands don't ya?"

"Hmm, well I heard a fing 'er two."

"Let me help with them rumors," she pulls him toward the staircase.

"I'd be honored wit yer comp'ny," Fergus chuckles and bounds up the stairs with the w***e flopping all over the place beside him.

"Wow," Alieana laughs.

"I'm tired," Raul yawns.

"Come on little man," Faux takes his hand and moves to the stairs, Torri is close behind. They ascend the stairs and take their rooms.

"Well, goodnight," Saul turns away.

"Hey now," Alieana grasps his arm. "No goodnight kiss?"

"Well," Saul turns to her and she jumps into his arms, Saul is taken aback when she thrusts her tongue into his mouth so he returns the favor. Alieana slowly pulls away and smiles at Saul.

"Goodnight," she whispers and kisses him once more on the lips. She hops down and ascends the stairs into her room with Torri. Saul thinks momentarily about going to her room and continuing with the fire she had started but knew it wouldn't work because Torri was also there. So with an extra pep in his step, Saul climbs the stairs and strolls to the next open door. He reaches for the handle and it is mysteriously locked. He doesn't think anything of it and just moves down the hall to the next room and slips inside. With heavy feet he stumbles to the bed, throws his load into the corner, dresses down and flops into the soft bed, almost instantly falling asleep.

What Saul doesn't know is that Torri isn't rooming with Alieana. She has gone to bunk with Faux and Raul. Faux tucks Raul into bed and he instantly crashes. She then strolls to her bed and pulls off all her clothes accept for her panties. She notices Torri blush a little and shed a devilish smirk.

"It's okay, come to bed," she smiles innocently. Torri silently strolls over to the bed and hesitantly pulls her shirt off followed by her pants. Despite being the same age, Torri is much older looking then Faux. She is already very developed as she is literally busting out of her small bra. She sits down on the right side of the bed and Faux does the same.

"Wait, I- um, need to go to the bathroom," Torri moves to stand but Faux grabs her by the arm.

"Wait, I'll be asleep by the time you get back."

"So-" Torri is cut off by Faux hauling her onto the bed. Without hesitation Faux leans in and kisses Torri long and hard right on the lips. She pulls away softly and peers into Torri's beautifully haunting eyes. Silently she rolls over, tucks into bed and falls asleep. Torri is shocked but secretly satisfied. Standing to her feet, she feels a bit light headed. She shakes it off and quietly moves to the door. Emerging in the dark hallway, she finds it completely silent accept for Fergus' creaking bed and the big busted prostitute's muffled yelps and moans of pleasure.

Torri tip toes to the stairs and navigates down them silently like a sultry cat. Hopping down the last step, she cautiously looks around. The w****s from before have disappeared to some random bed and she finds herself all alone in the smelly, smokey bar. With a slightly sadistic grin she stalks to the back door that imprisons the drunk woman beater. Before she opens the door, she glances around to make sure no one sees her and stealthily slips inside.

The battered and bruised man sits in the back, propped against the wall. His eyes are closed and his breathing, very labored. Torri walks towards him menacingly. Feeling her presence, his eyes flash open, expecting to see either Saul or Fergus his eyes flash thankfully at the sight of Torri. Little does he know that his thankfulness will be very short lived. Seeing that she has been noticed, Torri smiles playfully. The bound man also smiles under the tape and grunts. Torri walks seductively toward him swinging her curvy hips to tease him. The man falls for it and begins to squirm with horny excitement.

"Do you like this?" Torri asks in her most erotic and teasing voice.

In response the man nods vigorously and hops up and down in his bindings. Getting within touching distance, Torri reaches around her back and unclips her bra and lets it fall to the floor, her round firm breasts pop out and the man squirms ever faster.

"Wanna feel em?" she rubs her hands over them, squeezes and pinches her n*****s until they're hard.

The man nods as fast as he can and eeks out a squeaking sound.

"Mmm, Im so wet," she moans. "You know what really turns me on?"

The man lets out more muffled noises.

"Bondage. Getting tied up," she leans over and stares into his eyes as he turns red in the face with anticipation. "You know what I hate?" she is suddenly serious as her words are cold as ice.

The man stops hoping and moaning and gulps nervously.

"A******s who hit and rape woman," evil fills Torri's voice.

In his tight ropes, the man falls silent and completely still. Fear is welling in his eyes. Torri glances around and finds another small coil of rope. She slowly unwinds it and grins at the bound man.

"Complete control. Master and slave," she slowly ties a loop with a slipknot in the thread.

The man whimpers and makes noises which sound like pleads of mercy, mercy that isn't coming

"Now I'm the master, and you, the slave," she strides to the squirming man and places the loop around his neck. "I hope you enjoy this because it will be the last thing you see," she caresses her crotch tauntingly.

Looking to the ceiling, she tosses the other end of the rope up and over one of the support beams. She hauls down on it and he slowly is lifted to his feet as the loop tightens around his pencil neck.

"Was it worth it?" Torri whispers as the air and life is chocked out of him with each subsequent tug.

"Was it worth it?" His eyes roll back and a gargling noise comes from the saliva and blood in his throat.

"Was it worth it?" His whole body goes limp as death sets in.

With one last tug for good measure, Torri lets the body flop to the floor with a dead thud. Meticulously she unties the knot and recoils the rope setting back into it's place on one of the shelves. She rolls the man back into his slouched position against the wall. Lastly, she scoops up her bra and covers her beautiful breasts again. With a deep breath and a nod of approval, she glides across the floor, through the door, back up the stairs and into bed with the sweet and skinny Faux. She lays gazing at the dark ceiling when she hears a whisper.

"That took a long time..."

"I couldn't find the bathroom."

"Oh.... Sorry about before, with the kiss," she stutters.

"Don't be, I liked it," Torri rolls over to face Faux.

"Okay, goodnight," Faux smiles a big smile and closes her eyes, quickly falling asleep. Torri smiles too and roles over to fall asleep herself. In the next minute everyone is asleep.

Author's Note

Suggestions?