Undercover Desires

Belvino

Little Minx
Joined
Feb 6, 2013
Posts
2,109
(OOC: This thread is closed for Veroe and I)

Somewhere along the line she had lost herself.

Gemma Safford was a confused girl on a quest to rediscover everything that she should have known by now. At the ripe age of twenty four most people her age had finished college and were well into their first careers. Some had even moved back into their parent’s homes if they were unable to find the necessary employment opportunities. For Gemma she had gone backwards. She quit college just before the start of her senior year. Her parents were none too enthused, but it was not their life, and they had always encouraged their daughter’s independence.

Gemma had grown up in Oregon, and had stayed there for the majority of her relatively young life. Unfortunately, for all her friends and family it was too much to take, and when the weight of the world had pushed on her shoulders she had to get away. Gemma was missing something. She had no idea what it was, but she felt compelled to move across the country.

Miami, Florida.

The hub of eccentric art décor, warm weather, pleasant personalities, and beaches that were riddled with all manner of people. It was a refreshing change from the dull, dreary gray skies of the Oregon coast. Even the ocean in Oregon was dark and foreboding, too ominous, and far too cold to even consider taking a dip.

Turquoise.

That’s how the sea could be described in Florida. It was pleasantly warmer and Gemma marveled at it. For her first few weeks in the town she lived off the money her parents had loaned to her. She visited the beach every day and discovered that she could develop a really nice tan to complement her slender physique. Even her hair changed with the constant exposure to the sun. It had now become a much more lively shade of gold.

The beach was a comfort. She had always loved the ocean, but it was so different here on this side of the country. There was a unique beauty to it, and it was so lively. Gemma had never before seen so many people in one place at one time. There were the women in their teeny bikinis and the men flexing their muscles at just about anyone who glanced their way. It was like the mating dance of the Birds of Paradise. The men would show off their “feathers” in an attempt to captivate the women into their “nests”.

If Gemma had not abandoned her education in psychology she probably could have written some report off this behavior. Of course none of that mattered anymore. This was a new life. Though sometimes she would have to remind herself. The yawning void was still a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. For the most part she ignored it. She was happy here, and she wasn’t about to change that now. There was no need to go off that bridge again…

Eventually the money had dwindled to almost nothing. Gemma needed a job. Thankfully, her roommate provided her the number of a man who was in desperate need of a bartender. Gemma knew she had no real experience mixing alcoholic drinks, but she figured she would give it a try anyway. Her roommate convinced her that the man was willing to train the right person. So with an open mind she dressed for an interview and headed to the bar.

The man turned out to be a middle-aged guy named Frank. He was very interested in her and accepted her on the spot after asking her only a few questions. That afternoon they spent making mixed drinks and plying them off to the random assortment of customers that craved a good shot of hard liquor to boost their day. Gemma discovered that bartending came quite naturally to her, and it was the next night that she returned to the bar and worked her first shift.

Gemma worked for many weeks at the bar. Frank had become her mentor in that time. He reminded her of her parents and understood that she just needed time on her own. He had been down that road himself, and knew where she was coming from. It was easy for them to relate to each other, and not long before Gemma looked forward to going to work each day.

Frank had gotten into the habit of asking her each night what the total was. Each time she had told him that sales were good Frank seemed very pleased. But the last few nights had been falling into a growing slump. Each night was worse than the last, and as the Gemma shooed away the last customers for the evening she dreaded what Frank was going to ask her.

She had already pulled out the ponytail in her hair and was busy massaging the tenderness out of her scalp. She tousled her blonde hair as she glanced at her reflection in the side of the cooler. She looked tired, but the slim fitting jeans and white tank top gave her an extra pep. Plus the thought of the tips she got from giving customers a little hint of cleavage here and there was enough to fuel her motivation. She knew how to work the system, but it was still not enough to encourage more business.

“So how were things tonight?” Frank had returned from the back room and the look of desperation that crossed his features was pitiful.

“I’m sorry Frank. There must be another bar or something-“

“FUCK!” Frank exploded with anger in a sudden burst of emotion that sent Gemma reeling. She stepped away from him and felt her back press into the bar as he slammed his fists repeatedly into the counter, spewing expletives.

“Frank! What is going on?” Gemma questioned unable to hide the fear in her eyes.

“Oh, Gemma. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was not good of me.”

“What’s going on?” Gemma repeated.

“I should have never brought you into this. You see the bar was struggling for so long I had to get in with some people. Some really bad people. I’m doing stuff for them that I never thought I would ever do but here I am…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Gemma, I think you should just head home. Go take a nice break and relax and don’t come –“

Tap Tap Tap Tap

A faint voice penetrated through the already locked front door, “Mr. Valerio open up.”

Frank’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. He gestured to Gemma and waved to the back door, “Go on get the hell out of here! It is not safe!”

Tap Tap Tap Tap

Gemma stood where she was standing, stubbornly staring at Frank and then glancing to the door, “Who is that?”

The door blasted away from its hinges and banged against the wall while several intimidating men strode into the room.

“Mr. Valerio, where are your manners?” the man laughed and one of the thugs moved swiftly towards Frank. They took him by the collar and shoved him roughly against the wall.

“Where is the money, Frank?”

Gemma reached for the bat behind the counter and felt her palm molding to the wood as she slipped quietly behind the men. They hadn’t seemed to notice her. She had just raised the bat and was aiming for the head of the one holding Frank when one of the other men glanced in her direction and their eyes met. His hand reached up in time to grab the bat and block the force of its blow from cracking into the side of the other guy’s head. He wrenched the bat away from her and tossed it into a corner as the others finally turned around and noticed who else was in the bar.
 
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IC: Shane Barrow

Shane Barrow was an undercover cop for the DEA, deep undercover. He'd been posing as a low-level enforcer for a new syndicate gaining power in south Florida. The gang was fairly sophisticated, and cellularly organized. With the cells not knowing exactly what the other was doing, and the upper echelons of the syndicate only communicated to the cells lieutenants over burner phones.

Shane, for the last fourteen months had been working on establishing himself within this cell, gaining the leader's trust, and gathering intelligence on their operation, but he'd hit a brickwall. He'd have enough to throw the entire cell here and two others in prison for consecutive life sentences, but not any of the big fish in the syndicate. The cellular and frankly paranoid way it was organized meant he hadn't had the opportunity to penetrate it past this cell.

So what good would chopping off one or two arms off the hydra be when the heart of the beast could regrow the limbs.

His superiors were had stated the same logic, but had come to a very different conclusion to what to do about it. Shane had decided to go even deeper to bring down the whole organization. His bosses wanted to pull him out and try to take it down with a reco approach. So he cut off communications with them, and stayed buried with in the identity they'd established. He'd get the information they'd need to bust the entire syndicate wide open himself.

He couldn't let it go. He knew he had gotten too close, gotten too attached. Instructors back at the academy had lectured time and again how a cop undercover couldn't get too wedded to the mission that they took stupid chances, like this.

Not to mention the things he'd been forced to do for them to maintain his cover on his own. They'd be stains upon him for the rest of his life.

So Shane stayed back a pace as Henry Carson Jr. AKA Snake for the rattlesnake tattoo coiled around his neck-knocked on the door to Frank's bar.

“Mr. Valerio open up.” Snake called out.

Shane stood beside Arthur Donnelly or Cornbread for his-well Shane hadn't quite figured out why everyone called him that-wondering if they were going to have to break down the door. Snake knocked once more and then turned to Cornbread and Shane.

A moment later they smashed the door off the hinges and casting against the far wall. Next the three of them walked inside and towards Frank and the hot blond in the tanktop and tight jeans. Yet despite the pretty Barbie doll in the room their attention was on Frank. He was a short but pudgy man, with a receding hairline compensated with a thin and fuzzy beard going to grey

“Mr. Valerio, where are your manners?” Snake said in a mocking tone that Shane knew from experience could like his namesake turn deadly serious in a heartbeat.

Frank's had once been a distillery some time around the thirties and now refurbished into a bar with brickwalls lined with booths and tables with cracked vinyl and worn wood finishes. The room was lit with multicolored neon lights advertising the beers on sale at the bar flickering or nonfunctioning outright. At one wall there was a stage for a band that looked like Frank hadn't booked an act there in years. Then there was the bar, a wooden giant of craftsmanship only seen in antiques but littered with scratches of past patron's names, hearts proclaiming J loves L and other such hearts scratched out over the decades of its use.

Cornbread rushed forward hauling Frank up by the collar and pinning against the brickwall the action knocking the dart board off the wall. He was held fast there his face lit up by the flickering light of a Pabst Blue Ribbon sign.

"Where is the money Frank, Snake asked conversationally as if the violence was of no matter of concern. He walked over to a nearby table and swiveled a chair facing Frank.

In his peripheral vision Shane saw the blond step forward towards Bread the bat raised to strike him across the back of the head. Her grip was too loose and she held the bat too high. She'd wouldn't knock Cornbread out, she'd only hurt him, and while Cornbread was fairly even-tempered for a criminal ruffian he had a murderous temper. To make matters worse Snake hadn't forgotten about her either. Shane saw his boss's hand stray to the handle of the nine mil he kept in the back of his waistband.

Shane moved catching the bat before she can get more than a third of her swing finished. He looked into her stark blue eyes and wrenched the bat out of her hands and threw it out to a corner where it clattered to a landing upon the unused stage.

"Not a smart move, babygirl," He told her as he grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the bar. "Now don't move. Don't even make a sound."

"Don't touch her, you dirty anima-aagh," Frank roared out the last syllable becoming a strangled hacking sound as Cornbread's meaty fist slammed up into his diaphragm.

"Frank, Frank, Frank," Snake said sitting down in the chair as calmly as if he was sitting down for coffee, "I'll repeat myself: Where is the money?"

"I don't..." He managed between sucking deep lungful's of air, "...have it...The bar...the fridge was busted...the overhead last month needed to be paid." His eyes shot toward the blond, "Listen, do what you want to me, if you feel you need to make an example of me...just don't hurt Gemma."

"Don't hurt Gemma," Snake repeated him, "Don't touch her?" He glanced back to the blond and Shane. "Barrow, you keeo saying how your such hot shit with the ladies. Touch her, have some fun with her."

"I am not a rapist," He growled out to him.

"Whoa there," Snake said with a smirk, "Getting ahead of things there, Romeo. Just run to third base on her. Whether you score..." He smirked at Frank viciously, "...Whether you score or not is up to Frank here."

"Don't. Wait..." Frank bellowed as Shane grabbed hold of the blond's, Gemma's arm and pushed her face down against the scratched bartop. She struggled, given the situation that was understandable. Shane didn't mind.

Was he really doing this? Was this how low he was willing to sink to get what he wanted? Would he ever feel clean after doing this?

His arm pinned her against the bar as his other hand slowly trailed his fingertips down her spine.

If he was going to do this he was at the least going to make certain it wasn't a sick or predatory thing. If he was going to do this Shane was determined that she would enjoy...if that was at all possible in this situation.

"Gemma..." Frank tried to push away from the wall to stop what Shane was doing, but was pulled back as Bread's huge fist slammed into his stomach and then his kidneys. "...Don't...Don't do this, please...She has nothing to do with this. I'll give you whatever you want...you want the bar...take it."

"Your bar? The bar with the broken fridge and such low profits that you promise to distribute our product and then steal the money from us.?" Snake shook his head. "No Frank. You were right before. An example needs to be made, and it is. Your little girlfriend...she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

Seeing her reaction Shane leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Close your eyes. Tune out the words. Go into your own little corner. Safe and sound where this can't reach you."

His hand slid down over the small of her back and over the swell of her denim covered asscheeks. Then lower pressing into the crotch of her jeans. His fingertips tracing the lips of her sex through her jeans. Then grinding into where her clitoris would be beneath the denim and panties.
 
Everything seemed to go in slow motion for Gemma. The bat slipped from her fingertips and spun through the air in a slow dance before smashing against the far wall. She felt strong hands grip her outstretched arm and pull her close to a hard lined body. Her gaze lifted slowly and met his beneath upturned lashes.

Not a smart move, baby girl.

He was tugging her towards the bar, pushing as they went but Gemma could focus on nothing but the sudden well of fear that crawled up her throat. She felt like she had swallowed a rock and it got stuck half way. She tried to open her mouth to spit out something in retort, but all she could think was I’m in for it now.

Now don't move. Don't even make a sound, he said to her his eyes boring into her own.

Gemma finally felt a meek, little gasp escape past her lips. She couldn’t say anything now if she had tried. Taking the bat to the other man’s head had been a foolish thing, and now she was caught like a spider in a web. Whatever Frank had gotten himself into was dangerous. Gemma could see that just by looking at these men, especially the one who seemed to be the lead. The man whose viper tattoo crept up his throat and stood as a premonition to his vicious temper.

It was a moment of sheer stupidity. A regrettable mistake. One that she would pay for dearly.

Frank meanwhile was pinned up against the wall being pummeled by the very same guy Gemma had tried to knock out earlier. He was looking at her between punches coughing and gasping for air. His eyes pleaded her forgiveness and Gemma felt tears well at the corners of her eyes. This was hard to watch. Whatever Frank had done, whatever he had caught her up in didn’t make it right for things to end up this way.

Frank, Frank, Frank the man with the snake tattoo pulled out a chair for himself, but the legs squealed on the floor as the chair dragged, I'll repeat myself: Where is the money?

Frank responded, but Gemma could not understand what he was saying. The poor man was hunched over and fighting for breath. His hands clutched to his belly while the thug that had beaten him still gripped tightly to his shoulder.

Don’t hurt Gemma? Don’t touch her? The snake man was speaking again and Gemma’s eyes were trained on him when he turned around and met her gaze. A smirk spread across his lips but his attention flitted upwards. Barrow, you keep saying how you’re such hot shit with the ladies. Touch her, have some fun with her.

I am not a rapist. She felt his breath blow across the top of her head stirring her hair. Gemma’s eyes were wide with fear as her heart raced in her chest. She was still staring at the man with the snake tattoo while he and the man he called Barrow continued their conversation.

They were going to hurt her. They were going to rape her. Gemma felt her knees weaken and she almost slumped to the floor, but the man behind her pushed her upright and then bent her forward over the bar.

“No please,” she said. The first words she had said since the lot of them had busted through the door. He ignored her and held her tightly against the bar. Gemma was so close that she could smell the faint odor of lemon polish and musty wood. The carvings of hearts and names brushed against the tip of her nose.

She had heard him admit his declaration, but here he was following the snake man’s orders. She felt the pad of fingers press against her back, delicately tracing the line of her spine. Gemma bit her lip as an uncontrollable shiver passed through her. Her skin trembled beneath his touch.

Gemma… She looked up in time to meet Frank’s gaze as he was punched once more by the brawny thug. ...Don't...Don't do this, please...She has nothing to do with this. I'll give you whatever you want...you want the bar...take it.

Your bar? The bar with the broken fridge and such low profits that you promise to distribute our product and then steal the money from us? The snake man shook his head, No Frank. You were right before. An example needs to be made, and it is. Your little girlfriend...she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Gemma groaned and tried to rise again from her position. She felt the Barrow man’s arm press against her back, holding her in place. She knew the struggle was useless. She had seen the solid sinewy muscles in that arm when he had pulled the bat from her fingers and wrapped her in his grip. Fear and worry began eating at her belly, but it was his voice that broke through her thoughts.

Close your eyes. Tune out the words. Go into your own little corner. Safe and sound where this can't reach you, he whispered to her.

His breath stroked against her ear and neck. He was bent over her, his chest pressing into her back. The words were soothing meant to calm her in this crazy moment. Gemma felt strange. This was not the way people behaved when they were about to do horrible things to you. His touch was tender, though demanding.

In the end Gemma succumbed to his commands. Her eyes closed and she felt herself sliding away. However, she did not become unaware of everything. Instead of going to a place where she could not be bothered by any of this she felt him still. She felt his hips press into hers. She felt his hand slide down her rear and cup her cheek. She felt his fingers probing at her nub through the layers of clothing that protected her.

Unbidden, and almost inaudibly a moan escaped her. This was wrong. She should not be enjoying this, but his careful manipulations was too much for her body to resist. She could feel a delicious heat warming between her loins and knew a delicate flush colored her cheekbones. Slowly, carefully his hand moved away from her groin and travelled upwards. He caught the hem of her shirt between his fingers and carefully lifted it. Inch by inch he exposed the skin of her lower back.

Gemma felt a cold brush of air on her skin only to be replaced by a subtle warmth. His thumb on his left hand was tracing a pattern on her soft skin. She felt him slide his thumb into the groove of the dimples on her lower back. He paused there for some time before his hand plunged into waist of her denim. Gemma flinched and her muscles tightened. He pushed her down into the bar once more as his hand slid to the front of her denim. The button popped loose on her pants and he effortlessly worked the zipper lower.

This time his hand plunged even lower than before. He was unhindered. Gemma sucked in her breath suddenly, her chest expanding with the inhalation. His fingers moved like dancers over a stage, expert in their skill. Gemma’s head pressed into the rough surface of the bar as he continued his ministrations beneath her. This was entirely not what she had been expecting.

She was broken out of the moment by a sudden, and very painful tug to her long hair. A fist closed tightly around a handful of strands and forced her face in its direction. When she opened her eyes it was to see the leering sneer of the snake man.

“I think the little slut is enjoying her torment. Now we can’t have that can we?” the snake man laughed and shook his head as he pulled harder against Gemma’s hair. “Barrow, you are going to have to step it up if Frank here is going to talk! Perhaps I should take over?”

Frank fought against the corner, struggling uselessly against the thug that held him, “Goddamit! Leave her alone! I will do whatever you want. Please! I will get you the money. I’m sorry she had nothing to do with this, just let her go!”
 
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IC: Shane Barrow

She fought, and struggled, groaning to rise up, but Shane's strong arm kept her pressed down against bar's surface.

Seeing her reaction Shane leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Close your eyes. Tune out the words. Go into your own little corner. Safe and sound where this can't reach you."

His hand slid down over the small of her back and over the swell of her denim covered asscheeks. Then lower pressing into the crotch of her jeans. His fingertips tracing the lips of her sex through her jeans. Then grinding into where her clitoris would be beneath the denim and panties.

He watched her reaction as her eyes closed and her breathing steadied. If this was an act to be proud of Shane would have felt pride swell in his heart as Gemma did as he told her to.

He had been a virgin all the way through high school, focusing on pursuits in academics and athletics rather than the girls. It wasn't until college and the academy back in Omaha that he lost his virginity, both in reality and in the sense of discovering his identity as a dominant. It wasn't very kinky people at that club would scoff at him, but it was the first time he had expressed his will over another.

It had been empowering, and this was the same. Her reactions the way her skin flushed, her every breath. The moan she made as his fingers pressed harder into the crotch of her pants.

Shane couldn't help himself he wanted more, as deplorable as the circumstances were here her natural submissiveness was propelling him forward. He wanted to push her deeper, further into her submission to his will.

His arm lifted from its explorations of her groin and raised her shirt slowly up. Then stroked the pad of his thumb over the skin of her lower back exposed between her tank top and jeans. A slow sensual trail over the goosebumps rising over the skin of her back. Then his hand paused leaving her yearning for more for an agonizing moment before plunging his hand underneath the waistband of her jeans. She jumped at that action which necessitated his demanding push back down to the bartop.

His hand slid around from her but to her front and to the fly of her jeans. With practiced ease he released it and dipped his fingers inside.

Shane delighted in the deep gasp from her as his fingers began to play court to her sex skin to skin. His fingertips slid through the soft down covering her pubic mound down to trace over the moistening lips of her pussy.

Shane had always been fascinated with any of his women's reactions to his efforts in bed. So with a great deal of practice he'd acquired a great amount of skill in this. So he plied his special brand of magic absorbing every gasp and pant and quiver adjusting his actions accordingly to them.

She panted taking it all in like a sponge, being in the moment, and giving absolute control to him as a matter of trust by instinct alone. This pretty little blond girl was a natural submissive, and Shane was completely enraptured in pushing her, heating her up, slowly but steadily to her boiling point.

Then Snake Strode over to them. He reached out and grabbed her hair. “I think the little slut is enjoying her torment."

Shane glared at him, noting how that crude, callous act shattered the blissful bubble he had constructed around Gemma.

"Now we can’t have that can we,” He said with a laugh wrenching her head back and pulling her to the side, “Barrow, you are going to have to step it up if Frank here is going to talk! Perhaps I should take over?”

When Shane was young he had a pitbull he had named Flash. She was the sweetest, most loyal dog he could have ever asked for, but if even Shane reached for her bowl as she was feeding she would growl at him as if she considered such an act the greatest of threat to her. She was happy to accept that so much as his, but that bowl of food-that was hers.

He put that sort of growl into his voice as his hand pulled out of her jeans and wet with her arousal clamped over Snake's wrist. He met Snake's eyes hard saying, "Get your hands off her."

A dangerous gleam came to Snake's eyes at the unspoken challenge in Shane's voice, "What did you just say?"

"You want me to raise the stakes," He glowered to him...not exactly the best move, but he wasn't about to give control of the girl over to a sick bastard like Snake.

He took hold of Gemma's hair and pulled her back arching her spine back towards him. His other hand sliding under her shirt to squeeze a breast. As he did he whispered into her ear so only she could hear. "Do you want it from me? Then struggle. Fight me. Say no. Make it convincing."

She fought, scratching and wrestling, but he kept her under him.

That appeased Snake and he stalked back over to Frank. "Well, Mr. Verochio, will you tell me where the rest of the money is?"

Frank who had been struggling the whole while against Cornbread and receiving quite the beating for it spat out some blood from the spilt lip. "I told you I used it. Now stop it. Let Gemma go."

She had bitten his arm as he ripped her top off and cast it off ontop of the bartap's Budweiser handle, but despite that and the scratches she had given him Shane was pleased. Gemma was playing her part to perfection. She could easily have kicked her leg up between his legs and into his groin, but she didn't. So he could only guess she was still into it, but playing along. It was such a shame they had to have met here and now. She deserved so much more than this terrible farce. She deserved a night of romance and wine and dancing and lovemaking in front of a fire. She did not deserve to play act her own rape.

His hand was holding her face down again as the other forcefully pulled her jeans down. Her panties were soaking wet. He swatted one cheek of her ass making a smacking sound hard and demanding and loud.

"That must be some fridge, Frank," Snake said resuming his seat, "For you to have wasted 200 grand on it and the bills for this place."

Shane pulled her panties down over the cheeks of her ass and then spanked her again harder and louder.

"Make him stop," Frank implored Snake, "I'll show you where I put the rest of your money. Just let her go."

His finger traced the lips of her sex before pushing inside her past the second knuckle. Then he began to work it into her. Shane leaned down, conscious that it would make his face and eyes an easy target for her nails, but he needed to be with her pushing her into the moment Snake had pulled them out of.

Bread and Snake were pushing Frank into the back, to his office where he said he had hidden the rest of the money.

They were alone now. He could have let her go then. Shane could've said she'd gotten loose and ran out, but he was too much in the moment that it never occurred to him.

Into her ear he whispered, "Good girl. You deserve an Oscar." He added another finger. "Do you want your reward?"
 
Gemma felt like the roots of her hair were being pulled straight from her scalp. A whimper of pain slipped past her lips before she could stop it. The look in the snake man’s eyes was frightening. He seemed to be looking for something within her as he studied her face a sneer plastered across his features.

I think the little slut is enjoying her torment.

A furious flush of red bloomed on her cheeks, betraying her desire to the imposing figure gripping her hair. She felt a deep sense of shame and wanted to pull away from his grasp, but the movement was only serving to tug her hair even tighter than before.

Now we can’t have that can we? He laughed and pulled her hair again, angling her head farther towards him. Barrow, you are going to have to step it up if Frank here is going to talk! Perhaps I should take over?

The hand between her legs stilled and immediately withdrew. She saw his fist in the corner of her eye as it reached out and grabbed the snake man’s wrist. The tension on her hair seemed to loosen though she could still feel the fist buried within it.

Get your hands off her, the voice that responded was more growl than speech. Gemma was surprised at the venom injected in his tone. She had become the object that stood between these two strong men and Gemma was sure that it was not the safest place to be.

A look of dangerous intent was focused on Barrow as Snake’s eyes narrowed, What did you just say?

You want me to raise the stakes, Gemma would have been worried about that response if she had not already been pinned beneath this man, panting, and moaning like a bitch in heat. She felt the snake man release her hair and hold his arms out in a “be my guest” gesture for Barrow. Her hair once more was tugged backwards, but this time her body folded beneath the pressure and she felt her spine arch towards the bar. A hand snuck its way beneath her shirt and took hold of a full breast. Gemma felt his thumb and forefinger pinching her nipple, rolling it gently. His lips hovered near her ear as he whispered so only she could hear.

Do you want it from me? Then struggle. Fight me. Say no. Make it convincing.

Gemma’s head nodded just slightly and the pressure on her hair was released. She wriggled instantly at that and began squirming in Barrow’s arms. Her fists balled and she beat on whatever part she could reach of him. His arm was wrapped around her waist trying to hold her up, and simultaneously pinning her against the broad expanse of his chest. She took her fingers and dug her nails into his arm. He pulled it away just in time to sustain some angry red scratches through the meaty part.

For all her fighting Gemma was not going anywhere. Nonetheless it seemed to satisfy the snake man and he soon turned away to refocus his attention on Frank. Barrow was holding tightly to her shirt trying to wrest the tank top over her head. Gemma writhed beneath him and found his arm just as he lifted the blouse almost all the way up. She buried her teeth in his arm. She would not be getting naked in front of this lot no matter how pleasurable things had been before.

Of course it was all for nothing as Gemma’s attempts to fight Barrow were easily overwhelmed by him. He only grunted in pain when she bit him, but still managed to free his arm and remove her shirt. She saw it fly in front of her face before finding its home on the Budweiser handle. Gemma groaned and tried to cover herself but Barrow’s palm pressed into the side of her face and shoved her back against the bar. He held her there while he worked her pants over her derriere.

“Don’t,” Gemma said in a last attempt to protect her dignity. She saw the snake man glance over his shoulder and then nod in satisfaction before turning back again.

Barrow’s hand connected with her rear and Gemma flinched. She felt the sting long after his hand left and bit her lip to stop from crying out. She winced when she felt his hand again but this time he was pulling her panties down to her thighs. Once more his hand cracked down on her rear and she moaned. A little tingle had started from his smacks and Gemma’s back arched down while her hips pushed back. She couldn’t believe it. She was offering herself to him, and he was taking full advantage of her. His finger plunged into her wetness and Gemma cried out beneath his other hand which was somewhat clasped over her mouth.

He worked his finger in and out of her as she fought back the moan. She was panting heavily and became aware of him bending down with his face within striking range. Gemma however did not lash out, but arched her hips against his finger. He slid deeper within her playing in the velvet warmth. She felt a pleasant heat between her thighs and knew she was lost to him. Whatever he asked of her she would readily agree to. Barrow had her wrapped around his finger both figuratively and literally.

He leaned over her and whispered once more, Good girl. You deserve an Oscar, he added another finger, Do you want your reward?

Gemma raised her head and tried to look at the man who had been working beneath her. She could not see his face well for his proximity and the way he held her against the bar, but she knew what she was going to say.

“Yes,” came the barely audible response.

Barrow smiled and Gemma turned her head just as his fingers found that most sensitive spot inside of her. He worked them over that patch and Gemma moaned. She felt her legs beginning to weaken beneath her and gasped as one of his fingers started a rhythmic stroke on her clitoris. He massaged her from the inside and Gemma arched back into him surprised at her own wanton behavior.

She felt her wetness on his hands which only served to make access for him easier. Her breathing accelerated as his fingers danced within her, taking her to the edge of a cliff. She gripped the bar beneath her hands. Her fingers pressed tightly into the scratched surface while his own worked diligently between her thighs. The heat between them was beginning to feel unbearable and Gemma was aware of a tightening in her loins. She felt a sudden release as the first wave of her climax rocked through her and a cry of delight ripped from her mouth. Gemma’s knees wobbled and her whole body shuddered, but Barrow - who must have been anticipating her response - held her tightly around the waist.

Gemma’s head relaxed against the bar as she waited for her strength to return and her breathing to resume a more normal pace. She felt her panties being pulled up over her rear, and her denim followed shortly after. Gemma rose from her position and turned to find Barrow still standing behind her. He had pulled her pants up and was now holding her blouse out for her. Gemma took it from him, confused by the events that had just occurred. When she pulled the tank top over her form again she glanced up at Barrow.

There was an inner turmoil in his gaze which reflected Gemma’s own. They stared silently at one another for a while before he turned away and headed towards the back room.

“Wait! Who are you?” Gemma called after him, but he was gone before she heard anything.

Gemma did not follow. She was afraid of the others, but she wanted so badly to know what had just happened. The man had been set to rape her, and it was anything but. Gemma had become a writhing mess beneath him. She had enjoyed her own “torment” far too much.

Frank stumbled into the bar clutching his ribs as a cough racked through him. He spat blood into his hand and raised his head to see Gemma leaning into the bar for support.

“Gemma! Are you alright?”

Gemma didn’t know what to say. She was at a loss for words so instead she just nodded.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. I should have told you long ago,” Frank pressed his hands into his face he was so distraught he did not notice that he had smeared his own blood across his cheek, “If you don’t come back I will understand.”

“Who were those men?” Gemma asked.

“Criminals, drug lords. I was supposed to help distribute their product here, but as you know now I was keeping the money. Its just-

“Frank, how do you get in touch with them?”

“Why? You’re not thinking of going there are you? The police can’t catch them. They’re huge, and strong…”

“Frank, just tell me how you get a hold of them.”

“Well I don’t really… there is a number I call when I need to meet up and get more product or something. They usually pick me up, but they blindfold me along the way. When we get there though they take it off. They work off some huge warehouse. I think it may be near a shipyard, I saw cranes in the background. They have lots of women there, but they go upstairs.”

“What do they do with them?”

“I don’t know. They take them up there and some of them never come back. I have never been allowed up at the top floor. Only on the first floor, and even then I had minimal contact with anyone.” Frank winced as he tried to step over near Gemma who was rising from the bar. “Don’t go looking for trouble Gemma, please. These guys are lethal. It’s only luck that they didn’t kill me or you tonight.”

Gemma frowned at Frank, “You need to go to the hospital, Frank. You are not in good shape.” She turned her back to him then and quickly strode across the bar, and through the busted entryway pausing to glance back at Frank. “Thanks for what you did. Don’t worry about me. I will be fine.”

***************************

Gemma sat on the couch of her apartment clutching a bottle of wine in one hand as her gaze stared across at the far wall. She took a large swig of the bottle. There were no glasses around her. She didn’t need them all she needed was the feeling that the alcohol was giving her. This was not healthy she knew that, but she could not come to terms with what had happened over the past few hours.

She heard her roommate push open the front door and call her name, “Gemma, hey! What are you doing?” Her friend’s hands were pushed against her hips as she stared in her direction.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“It certainly doesn’t look like nothing. You shouldn’t drink that all by yourself.” Gemma frowned at her and handed her the bottle. The other girl held it up to note that Gemma had drank half of it already.

Gemma stood swiftly from the couch and staggered a moment. The alcohol had hit her faster than she expected. She shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the fog that had settled over her. There was one thing that Gemma knew for certain. Despite everything that had happened she had enjoyed what Barrow had done to her. It had been a thrill to be completely captive to his will. However the fact that she would probably never see him again bothered her deeply. She wanted to know him, wanted to understand why he did what he did, and perhaps explore even further.

The last thought made her chuckle and her friend stared at her with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going out,” Gemma said finally. She would find this “warehouse” and see if she could spot Barrow there.

Gemma did not find the warehouse that night, or for many nights after. She spent her days searching each shipyard and inspecting warehouses that she thought looked promising. It was all fruitless until one day when she almost had given up hope. She had been in this particular shipyard before, but had decided to go back because she had not looked much farther than the docks. Sure enough as she was walking away from the docks she spotted a large oversized warehouse made of brick, metal, and mortar. The side of the building attempted to portray the specific bright colors and artistic patterns of architecture in other parts of Miami, but it was a hideous flaw.

Gemma noticed the cameras hidden in the bricks on the building, something that had not been present at the other warehouses. She stood on the sidewalk for a long while just staring at the building before a door opened and a women stood in the entryway looking down at her.

“Is there something you need, dear?” The woman’s face was painted over with too much makeup and she had on a smile that was too sweet.

“Uhh… I was just looking for someone.”

“Now, who may that be?”

“I.. I don’t know really. I think his name is Barrow?”

The woman blinked slowly and for a second Gemma thought she was going to say she had never heard of him, but then that awful smile came back, “Yes, come inside.”

The woman swung the door open and gestured into the dark interior of the building as Gemma adjusted the hem of her skirt. It barely brushed mid-thigh and she was suddenly aware of how acutely exposed and vulnerable she looked. Eventually though her curiosity gave in and she walked slowly through the open door.
 
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IC: Shane Barrow

Into her ear he whispered, "Good girl. You deserve an Oscar." He added another finger. "Do you want your reward?"

“Yes,” came the barely audible response.

"Good girl," He smiled. His two fingers found her magic spot within and stroked the pads of his fingertips over it. She moaned and her legs nearly buckled at that. Shane worried that she was going to drop to the floor, but Gemma was a fighter, she stayed up legs quivering but straining for more. In this moment she was completely his.

He extended a third finger wet from her overflowing passion below so he stroked both her g-spot and her clitoris at the same time, and was gratified when she arched back to take more, and he gave it to her. He pumped his fingers within over her g-spot and her clitoris in concert faster, harder, more intense. He pushed her, propelled her, catapulted her onward, higher, closer, to the pinnacle. Faster he thrust his fingers in and out. She was almost there.

Shane resolved to give her this. To push her over into the precipice. She had been such a good girl. She deserved a reward. He would grant her this climax and there was nothing that could stop him from it.

His fingers stretched and flexed within and under her playing her like a grand instrument within a concerto in 'O' major.

His hand wrapped around her throat, not choking her, just controlling her. Gemma's mouth was forming the round 'O' of a whopper of an approaching orgasm, and making an inhale that would not stop. Her back arched thrusting out that tight little ass at him, begging for it from him.

"Good girl," He whispered to her, "Take it. Enjoy it."

When she came it her like a ton of bricks. All the air from her lungs from the long inhale let out in a cry of pleasure that was a symphony to Shane's ears. Covered and muffled by his hand so this moment would continue to be theirs alone, uninterrupted by the outside world that would only shatter this shared perfect moment.

He held her around the waist to hold her up as her body sagged from that release. She rested her head against the bartop and Shane resisted an urge to stroke the side of her cheek. Instead he Pulled up her panties and jeans back over her little ass and then reached over and grabbed her shirt from the Budweiser handle. He winced at the large rip down the middle he had made pulling it off of her. To be fair she had bitten his arm as he was doing it so he had extenuating circumstances in tearing it off her at the time. He helped her up and held it out to her.

That was when what he had done hit him. He had taken serious advantage of this girl. It was rape. There was no getting around it. Given her willingness for more during the deed he'd guess she might have consented given the choice in the beginning, but Shane had denied her that choice. He was a rapist now, and self-disgust coiled around his belly.

Yet at the same time it was easily the most fulfilling sexual experience since he realized he was a dominant. Her reactions, the trust she had put in him even when it was not voluntary from the start....it was exhilarating.

She pulled on the torn tank top managing to look up at him, the conflict within him between shame and pride written in his eyes to her.

He turned away unwilling to say or do anything more to expose himself to her judgment.

“Wait! Who are you?”

That was just the thing. The danger of staying too long undercover meant there was a point where you ask yourself just that question and you find you don't know anymore.

He returned to Snake and Cornbread, who had retrieved most of the money Frank had stolen from the syndicate. They weren't going to kill him though. Frank was their only distributor in this part of Miami. So until they get someone more reliable, Frank would be watched and if he so much as made them think he was taking the syndicate's money again...well his body would be found out in the glades somewhere if the gators didn't get to it first.

With the money and a ominous reprimand to Frank they left through the back where they had parked the car. Shane rode in the back his thoughts straying to her and that one perfect moment and cursing himself for it.

(broken for length reasons)
 
IC: Snake Monterro

The next day Snake, Cornbread, and Shane had come to the warehouse where they stored the cocaine from Columbia, but they hadn't came to it for the drugs. No, it was also one of the places the syndicate's side business was located. The underground sex club it operated. Each time in a rotating list of locations.

Snake poured himself another glass of vodka. Cornbread had been collected three of the girls. He was a big ugly gorilla, but the fucking worthless sluts that hung around the club loved him.

Snake downed the whole glass in one gulp of his Smirnoff.

Bread didn't have a dominant bone in his body. He was a total teddy bears around the girls here, and they loved him for it. So the three of them had pulled him into one of the back rooms.

Barrow was no better. He was all bite to his barks. In fact the best bitch here he'd dragged into another private room. God damn him. Snake was the leader of their little trio, but Barrow always acted like he was so fucking better than him. It really pissed Snake off.

Tonight this place would be jumping. The coke downstairs would be passed around and there would be more whores here ready and willing, eager even to submit to any and all.

Snake was now sitting alone at the bar stewing in his resentments-well stewing in half-emptied bottle of Smirnoff too. He'd get what was owed him just wait. Those fuckers won't know what hit them, especially Barrow.

He was pouring himself another glass of it when Consuela came up the steps with another behind her. Tall with blonde hair and an innocent air about her. He raised an eyebrow recognizing the slut Barrow felt up at Frank's last night.

"What's this," He asked Consuela.

"She was looking around downstairs," Consuela answered, "She says she's looking for Barrow."

"Oh, he's in back," His eyebrow raised at that. He looked at-what was her name again-oh who the fuck cares, "But why would you go looking for someone who tried to rape you last night?"

"Maybe you want some payback," He said his hand shooting out and pulling her over to him, "Maybe you got a knife hidden away on you to cut off Barrow's balls for what he did to you."

He began pulling and patting her clothes. Either she didn't have a weapon or she was hiding it very well. Snake chuckled pushing her back against the bar. "Too bad for you bitch. That arrogant pussy was too soft with you." He grabbed her by the throat and threw her back face up against the bar so hard his bottle of Smirnoff shook. He squeezed choking her. "When you want someone raped right you just gotta do it yourself."

"But first," His hand reached over and picked up his bottle of vodka, "I know you're type. The pretty girl. The type that likes to pretend that she's a good little Christian girl, but buries how much a nasty slut she actually is underneath it all. The type that sits at a bar and turns down all the offers from the guys there for a drink. The only reason you come is just to sit there all superior and unattainable, and rub it into everyone's face."

He upended the bottle placing the opening against her lips so the hard liquor poured down into her mouth and throat. He laughed when the vodka spilled out over her mouth. "Not too good to share a drink with me now, are you?"

As she was coughing and choking up the alcohol he put down the now empty bottle. "Now let's see how you handle a real man." He reached down under skirt to rip her panties away.
 
IC: Shane Barrow

Katja was considered the best member of the club. She was the consumate sub, the epitome, the example for the other girls to model themselves after. She took the harshest roughest treatment in stride and every time asked for more. Her reactions were pitch perfect. She was the best act in the club, but it was still all an act.

The reason why he was back here with her was the fact that Katja was the only one allowed up on the third floor. The third floor was for the upper echelons of the syndicate. Shane bet whoever the ringleader was he had to be up there.
But there was a locked door with a key pad up there. Katja knew it, so for the last couple of weeks he's been trying to impress her to either get her to take him up there to investigate. The problem is Katja was damned hard girl to impress.
He currently had his hands on the back of her skull and his cock pistoning down her throat. His balls smacking her chin. She looked up at him, no gagging, no struggling, no choking. She just knelt there hands behind her back eyes open and looking up into his. She wasn't even crying despite the fact that his cockhead was playing hockey with her tonsils.

What kind of hardcore shit did she go through up there on the third floor where getting throatfucked was nothing to bat an eye over. He pulled her head down all the way until her nose was mashed against his pelvis and his cock was as far down her throat as it could go. He held her there for a couple seconds, five, seven, nine, ten...Katja continued to calmly take it despite a desperate need for air she must be feeling.

Twelve seconds passed, and Katja knelt there open and not even flinching. She was the perfect submissive, and it did nothing but infuriate Shane.
He pulled her head off her cock and she inhaled loudly after it slid out of her mouth. Annoyed he paced the floor as she got her breath back. Damn it. Katja only pissed him off. She was perfect, but after Gemma he didn't want perfect. Gemma would've choked, cried, struggled to take every inch of him down her throat, but she'd push herself past her limitations for him. Katja couldn't. She didn't have limits anymore.

So he paced back and forth glaring at her. She just knelt there waiting for the culmination of his anger, willing to take it any way he decided to give it, which only pissed him off even more. It wasn't her fault. Shane knew this, but it didn't change the fact that her not being Gemma, that no one would ever be the girl he would never have again was driving him nuts.

A knock on the door came and Consuela, the manager/ringleader of the girls here's voice came through the closed door. "Hey Barrow someone's out here looking for you."

He zipped up his pants, his cock still rock hard and covered in Katja's drool. "Who is it?"

"Some blond girl," Consuela answered, "Snake seemed to know her...from the bar last night."

It couldn't be. She wouldn't have come here. How did she even know where to look for him?

The door swung open. Consuela was there leaning against the wall and turned so she was casually looking down the hallway of private rooms into the bar at the end of it. He didn't blame her. She knew attacking a leiutenant in the syndicate was not a smart idea.

However once he saw that it was indeed Gemma and Snake there ripping her panties off her, any notion of him following her example went out the nearest window. He was down there before he knew it. His hands grabbed Snake's neck covering the tattoo's head and ripped him away from her. He pushed Snake across the lounge area knocking over some chairs and a table.
Snake and Cornbread were brawlers. They thought fighting was a matter of acting tough and intimidation like overgrown bullies on the playground. Shane fought with brutal precision.

Snake rose to his knee one hand reaching behind him for his pistol. He didn't get the chance. Shane's fist collided into the soft part of his temple that made him collapse back onto the floor. Then his foot lashed out into his side again and again making snake curl up into a ball to protect himself. Shane finished up with a blow to his nose that broke bone and made blood pour out.

He reached out and grabbed Gemma from the bar as Snake was clutching at his bleeding nose. He dragged her downstairs and out of the warehouse to his car.

http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/400x/8c/c1/82/8cc18203880ddb468b283b0ce5578d7b.jpg

He opened the door and nearly shoved her in the passenger seat. He stormed over to the driver side and got in. Starting the car he finally asked her, "What the hell did you think you were doing?" He glared over to her taking his car out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Well, did you want to get raped, back there?"
 
Gemma knew as soon as she crossed the threshold she had made a big mistake. The interior of the building was dark and the woman that led her was no more reassuring. When her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting she found that they were in a hall with several doors on either side. None of them were open and it seemed eerily quiet. The woman turned to her and flashed her teeth.

“Please stay here a moment. I will be back shortly.”

Gemma watched the woman walk away and as soon as she disappeared behind one of the doors in the hall Gemma quickly turned back to the door she had just come through. She tried to open it, but the door would not budge and seemed for all its resistance to be locked. She hadn’t heard the door close, but when she looked down Gemma saw the key pad by the door. She was about to start pushing buttons, hoping it would work, when the other woman’s heels announced her arrival.

“What are you doing?”

Gemma turned around with her back pressed against the wall and an expression of guilt evident, “I’m sorry. I think I made a mistake. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that. See when you crossed through that door you made a choice, and now you will have to stick with it.” The woman waved behind her indicating something that Gemma could not see, “Don’t make me get one of the boys. The boss doesn’t like it if we have to fight you. It could be very…. unpleasant.” The woman turned and waved for Gemma to follow only checking once to see if she would comply.

After everything that Gemma had seen in the bar she could guess with some accuracy exactly what “unpleasant” meant. She didn’t want that so in the end she climbed the stairs. Her foolishness had brought her here, but it wasn’t the only thing that compelled her to go against every basic instinct. Barrow was on her mind, and that was where she directed her focus in order to avoid the unsettling fear that was telling her to run.

They had only climbed up one floor when the woman led them down another hall. This time the doors that they emerged from were open wide and Gemma could see the interior of what appeared to be some kind of club. There was a bar in one corner with a man sitting in one of the stools. His back was to them, but as soon as he heard them coming he turned around.

Gemma saw the large mouth of an angry viper spread across the man’s neck as if poised to strike at its next victim. She felt her stomach drop like a lead balloon and all the color washed out of her face. This was not Barrow. Her worst fears had been confirmed and Gemma was so distracted that she missed the conversation between the woman and the snake man.

I am going to die… I am going to die… I am going to die…

The mantra repeated endlessly in her head. She could feel her heart beating against her chest and shivers ran down her spine. If death had a face it would be his. She wanted to run again but when she looked over her shoulder the other woman was standing behind her looking bored. His voice was echoing in her ear, a persistent buzzing insect.

Maybe you want some payback? He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. His breath was hot, and offensive, smelling strongly of the bottle of vodka he had consumed. Maybe you got a knife hidden away on you to cut off Barrow's balls for what he did to you?

He began patting her down taking extra time in the area of her blouse that was stretched out by her bosom. Gemma glared at him wishing desperately that looks could kill. She had no weapon. The thought that she had come here without one was extremely laughable. It wasn’t Gemma’s goal to kill anyone though she reconsidered the idea as she stood face to face with the disgusting, frightening man before her.

Her eyes flickered over to the bottle of vodka and then quickly back to him. If she was fast enough she might be able to grab it and run, smash the bottle on the end of the bar and use it to protect herself if he came after her. Her arm twitched with the thought each fiber of her being now directed to that goal. She needed to distract him first, keep his mind elsewhere while she slipped away with the bottle.

Too bad for you bitch. That arrogant pussy was too soft with you. His hand closed around her throat and pressed her back against the bar. Her back sent a spasm of pain shooting down her legs and Gemma gritted her teeth against it. She tried kicking at him, but he seemed unaffected by her attempts to fight. Her fingers clawed at his arm and he responded by squeezing tighter. Stars popped in her vision and her face turned red with the increased pressure. She couldn’t suck in more air nor could she force the air out. When you want someone raped right you just gotta do it yourself.

No. No. No. No… Gemma thought.

But first, His hand reached over and picked up his bottle of vodka, I know you're type. The pretty girl. The type that likes to pretend that she's a good little Christian girl, but buries how much a nasty slut she actually is underneath it all. The type that sits at a bar and turns down all the offers from the guys there for a drink. The only reason you come is just to sit there all superior and unattainable, and rub it into everyone's face.

Gemma was shaking her head trying to disagree, trying desperately to plead with him as her strangled cries became quieter, and quieter. She was beginning to see darkness circling in her vision, slowly closing everything off. She kicked at him again, but he only lifted the bottle of vodka and forced it into her mouth. Some of the liquid poured down her throat, burning a path to her stomach. Her mouth filled with the vodka and the rest spilled out across her lips, chin, and cheeks.

In the distance she heard him laughing, Not too good to share a drink with me now, are you? He laid the bottle to rest on the counter and his free hand drifted down to the hem of her skirt. Now let's see how you handle a real man. She felt his hand on her leg and then he had a fist full of her panties. He yanked it down with one pull, at the same time tearing the delicate material until it was lying in a puddle on the floor.

Gemma was sure this was going to end badly for her. She was going to get raped and then he would dispose of her like a piece of trash. She had never felt so happy to be wrong her entire life. The pressure on her neck released and she could feel that he had moved away from her. No, he was hauled away. When she stood to her feet, and all the blood rushed out of her head, and she was finally able to take a deep breath she saw him. Barrow had come out of nowhere and grabbed Snake round the neck. He had violently attacked the other man and was now kicking him while he was on the ground.

Gemma saw Barrow’s shoe connect with Snake’s nose which twisted beneath the force. Blood sprayed out from his nostrils and Snake groaned. Barrow turned to her in the next move and grabbed her arm. Without a word he hauled her out of the room, down the stairs and out the building so fast she had trouble trying not to fall onto her face. Gemma just registered the classic black muscle car before he shoved her into it. The door closed swiftly after she had cleared the way and he came round the driver’s side.

What the hell did you think you were doing? He glared over to her taking his car out of the parking lot and onto the street. Well, did you want to get raped, back there?

Gemma’s blue eyes were wide as she looked at Barrow. She couldn’t believe all that had happened, or her sudden luck in being saved by the man she had come looking for. She was at a loss for words and struggled with what to say. She could see that he was mad, but beneath that she sensed his worry, his concern. It was an odd thing to see, but given the situation she felt it was justified. He was a criminal with a conscience.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. She didn’t know why she was apologizing to him. Something about the look on his face made her feel like it was necessary. She felt like she had to pay penance to him for fucking up so badly.

“I didn’t want any of that. I was a fool, but I was blinded by my own determination and stubbornness. I…” She blushed and looked away, focusing on her lap. That’s when she became aware that her skirt had been sitting in a high position on her thighs, and was just barely covering the nude junction between them. She put her hand between her legs and tugged at the material feeling like she was burning out of her skin. She shouldn’t have been so ashamed considering her previous engagement with the man, but because of what happened in the warehouse she felt different.

Softly, almost as if she had not said it, “I was looking for you.”

*******************

Meanwhile at the Warehouse…

A dark figure framed the entrance way to the bar. He stepped forward from the shadows, a beam of light settling over him. His hair was dark save for the patches of salt and pepper gray that dotted through the thick locks. His arms were at his side as he watched the writhing mess that Snake was on the ground.

Consuela ran to him looking like a puppy that had lost its way, “I’m sorry, Sir. It happened so fast. I couldn’t-

The man simply raised a hand indicating that she should be quiet. Consuela immediately shut her mouth and let him walk by her. He stopped near Snake. His face was the perfect picture of disgust. He was disappointed in everyone, and raised his expensive leather shoe against the side of Snake’s nose. The man looked up at him, but there was no time to flinch while he ground his toe into the broken nose. There was an answering scream from Snake, but the other man ignored it.

“You are a horrible excuse for a dominant,” he spat out. He brushed his shoe against Snake’s clothes shaking his head slowly. “Get yourself cleaned up.”

Snaked struggled to his feet muttering something about wanting to kill Barrow. He didn’t look at Consuela who was glaring at him. The other man turned around and smiled to no one in particular.

“It seems I need to have a discussion with our Barrow.”
 
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IC: Shane Barrow

He opened the door and nearly shoved her in the passenger seat. He stormed over to the driver side and got in. Starting the car he finally asked her, "What the hell did you think you were doing?" He glared over to her taking his car out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Well, did you want to get raped, back there?"

What had that been about? He had acted completely on instinct back there the moment he saw Snake touching and threatening Gemma. He had gotten so mad it had pushed all thoughts out of his brain. He hadn't realized what he was doing until all that blood had poured out of Snakes broken nose, and then all the implications of what had happened came crashing down upon him.

He had jeopardized his cover. Shane had attacked a man that could cut off his access to the higher levels of the syndicate. And all to protect this girl he barely knew, and had every right to hate him just as much as Snake.

He took them north on Bayshore Drive past the Coral Reef Yacht Club all the way to a redlight at Treasure Trove Lane. As he waited for the light to turn he looked over to her. She was looking at him and her eyes were wide with the realization of how close she came to getting raped.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed, “I didn’t want any of that. I was a fool, but I was blinded by my own determination and stubbornness. I…”

"Just stop. Breathe. You're safe now, Gemma," He reassured her. The light finally turned green and he continued heading north on Bayshore. He wasn't sure where to take her so Shane was just driving by force of habit towards his place. "How did you learn about that warehouse? Why did you go there?"

She looked down and Shane glanced down towards her lap. Snake had ripped off her panties and he had been in such a rush to get her out of there he hadn't bothered to pick them up for her. When she had sat down in the bucket seat of his '68 Firebird the skirt had ridden up giving a clear view to him and anyone looking in that she was currently going commando.

He could see the thin golden thatch of her pubic hair and the lips of her sex. That brought back the memory of the previous night how that same pussy felt clenching in pleasure around his fingers. Her moaning, panting, straining for more. How she had been his totally and completely at that one moment...

The light had turned green and the volkswagon behind honked its horn at him. He pressed the gas and his Firebird started off past the intersection up Bayshore to his apartment again. She had covered herself then too.

It was then she decided to answer his question, “I was looking for you.”

"For me," He asked turning his head to look over to her, "Even after what I did to you last night?" It may not have been typical rape, but it was too close to it for Shane's comfort.

They were reaching the part of town his apartment was in, and Shane pulled the old muscle car into a turning lane at the next intersection. He turned to her again to say. "Well, you found me. Why did you want to see me for?"

The green arrow appeared at the traffic light and he stopped her answer saying, "Hold on." He swung the Firebird out of the intersection off of Bayshore and onto Sunset. This part of town was an area settled by a large number of Cuban refugees and immigrants...not quite little Havana but not too far away from it either. They headed west down Sunset street and into the heart of the immigrant neighborhood. Outside Laundromats, liquor stores, supermarkets with signs in both English and Spanish in their windows scrolled by.

He pulled them in behind a little Cuban style deli, who's Cuban sandwhiches Shane practically live off of. Behind the deli was a parking lot and stairs to his loft above the restaurant.

"This is my place," He told her, "Let's get you cleaned up and get you some clothes that don't smell like they've been dunked in a barrel of vodka."

He led her upstairs and unlocked his door. Pushing it open he showed her inside. It was a small but open loft apartment. The nearest wall and corner was his small kitchenette and table. The opposite wall had his weights and workout equipment. Between the kitchenette and workout area was his big brass bed that had come with the apartment. Opposite those were a living room area with a couch and TV and a bathroom with an old clawfoot tub big enough to fit himself with plenty of room.

"You can take a shower in there," He told her, "I'll try and round up some clean clothes for you to wear until we can get yours taken care of."

As he heard her enter and turn on the shower he searched through his closet pulling out an old Dan Marino Miami dolphins jersey he never wore and a clean pair of boxer shorts for her-better than her continuing to traipse around going commando. He laid those outside the bathroom door for her. Then he opened his fridge and pulled out two bottles of Budweiser one for each of them. The conversation they would have to have after she showered may require a little liquid courage after all.

When she came out Shane whistled low. She looked really hot with hair still damp from the shower and wearing the jersey that was a size or more too large for her but hung off her breasts and framed her obviously female body well despite that. He could just see that his boxers were too large for her too and was threatening to slide right down off her hips forcing Gemma to hold onto the waistband to keep them up on her.

He gestured to the second bottle of Budweiser and asked her, "Beer?"

When she had sat down he told her, "Look Gemma, I'm flattered really that you risked all that to see me when you didn't even know me, but you and I can not work." He took a swig of his Bud and continued, "This just isn't going to work out. I'm not the type of guy you take home to meet your parents. I'm not the sweet boyfriend material. You have no idea the boundaries you'd have to cross to be mine."

Almost mournfully-damn, why did he have to want her so badly-he put his beer down on the coffee table. "So I'll go down the street to the Laundromat and wash your clothes and take you back to your place where we'll part our separate ways. You can go back to tending Frank's bar nice and safe and sound, and I'll go back to the dangerous life I live, got it?"
 
“I was looking for you.”

Gemma turned her eyes up to Shane in time to see him glance over at her with a skeptical look, For me? Even after what I did to you last night?

She took a deep breath and held it feeling her nerves bunch in her stomach. How could she explain this to him? She hadn’t even been able to understand it on her own. After half a bottle of wine the answers still hadn’t come. She had done something so strange, so uncharacteristic. What she did know was the simple act of doing what she did had created a demon inside her.

Well, you found me. What did you want to see me for? His voice broke through her thoughts but she only frowned. She still didn’t know how to tell him. It was like the smallest taste of chocolate, when what she really wanted was the whole bar.

Her mouth opened as she started to talk, but he held up his hand, Hold on. He wheeled the Firebird through the intersection and Gemma stared out at the window suddenly transfixed with their surroundings. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to see where they were going, but now as she looked out the window she recognized the part of Miami that was heavily populated by Cuban immigrants. The signs were written in English and Spanish, and Gemma knew that the predominant language spoken in this area was Spanish.

Her attention shifted back to Barrow who was becoming more, and more interesting by the minute. He didn’t strike her as the typical bad boy criminal, but then again she hadn’t really known any before now. She wondered if he knew Spanish, or if there had been some other reason for him choosing to live in this area. He was a curiosity, so different from every stereotype she had ever known.

The Firebird pulled into a lot just off the main road and he stopped the car turning to her, This is my place, He told her, Let's get you cleaned up and get you some clothes that don't smell like they've been dunked in a barrel of vodka. Gemma looked down at herself and grimaced as a flashback from before rushed into her head. Thankfully, she had not downed that much vodka so the alcohol wasn’t making her head spin. She stepped out of the car as soon as Barrow did and pulled surreptitiously on her skirt before she followed him upstairs to his apartment.

Barrow’s apartment was a typical bachelor pad, minimally decorated but functional. After everything that had happened Gemma was grateful for its simplicity and felt herself becoming more at ease despite her present company. She watched him gesture to the open door at the far end of his apartment You can take a shower in there, he told her, I'll try and round up some clean clothes for you to wear until we can get yours taken care of.

“Thank you,” she said smiling.

The bathroom was just as plain as the rest of the apartment, but housed a beautiful claw foot tub. Gemma took only a moment to admire its craftsmanship before she had the water running, and shed her clothes. She climbed into the tub, and stood beneath the spray staring at the curtain that surrounded her. Left to her own devices in his bathroom her thoughts drifted. She knew she should be coming up with some sort of an explanation for why she had come looking for him, but all she could focus on was her near rape by the snake man only to be rescued by Barrow.

Everything he had done seemed to contradict his criminal lifestyle. Especially considering that he had beaten the life out of a man that to her had seemed like his superior. She had no idea what that meant for him, and stupidly she worried over that. The men he was associated with did not seem like the type to easily forgive misbehavior.

Gemma finished with her shower and found the clothes he had mentioned just outside the door. Another detail that was curious to her considering he very well could have taken a peek at her. She shrugged and slipped the clothes on, chuckling softly. The Dan Marino jersey was just another thing that seemed so normal, but oddly out of place for a man that was supposed to be some kind of drug lord. The jersey was huge on her slim form, but it was his boxers that made her blush. She was wearing his clothes, his underwear no less and she barely knew a thing about him. Granted it was all in the name of cleaning her clothes which were covered in vodka, and memories she would rather forget.

When Gemma emerged from the bathroom, clutching the waistband of his boxers she did not miss the whistle from him. Her eyes lit up and she smiled as she strode towards him. Gemma was inordinately pleased that she could elicit this reaction from him. It made her curious of all the things she could do.

Beer? He asked and she nodded taking the bottle from him as she sat herself on the edge of the couch.

Look Gemma, I'm flattered really that you risked all that to see me when you didn't even know me, but you and I cannot work. This just isn't going to work out. I'm not the type of guy you take home to meet your parents. I'm not the sweet boyfriend material. You have no idea the boundaries you'd have to cross to be mine. He spoke evenly looking at her all the while without a bit of emotion in his tone.

Gemma felt like a rock had dropped in her stomach. She took a sip of the Budweiser to hide her sudden shift in mood, but he continued on. So I'll go down the street to the Laundromat and wash your clothes and take you back to your place where we'll part our separate ways. You can go back to tending Frank's bar nice and safe and sound, and I'll go back to the dangerous life I live, got it?

She toyed with the rim of her bottle as she prepared herself mentally for what she was about to say. This was going to take a lot more courage than she had originally thought. She had been completely unprepared for his response, and was now cursing herself for her own naiveté.

“Thanks, for what you did back there, but I am not going to let this go that easily. I need to get this off my chest, or it is going to eat me up inside,” Gemma sighed and found herself shaking her head, biting at her lip to quell her nerves which were threatening to boil over.

“I know who you are, and damn me I am a fool, but I can’t help it. What happened that night in the bar…. well it was something else… you were something else. You could have raped me, in fact you were plainly ordered to, but you didn’t… not really.” Gemma took a deep breath and placed her bottle of beer on the table in front of her.

“I don’t think you are anything like the man with the tattoo on his neck. You are different, demanding, but what you did that night... I have never felt like that before. Despite everything you made me feel safe. You took everything from me, but you never once made me regret it. And on top of that when you left I felt like I had lost something, and I didn’t even know what it was.”

Gemma rose to her feet suddenly anxious to move, “If you just want to go on, then so be it. Just know you’ve impacted my life greatly.” She raised one hand to her hair which was still damp and pulled it over one shoulder giving Barrow a sheepish look at the same time. “I won’t go back to Frank. I can’t be involved in this drug business any more than I already have. Besides, I think that snake man can hold a grudge.”

Gemma felt like the floor could give way beneath her at any minute. She had let it all out in a rush, and now she was even more nervous than before. She didn’t want to just go their own ways, but what else could she do? Barrow had seemed quite determined not to be affiliated with her any more than he already had.
 
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IC: Shane Barrow

Almost mournfully-damn, why did he have to want her so badly-he put his beer down on the coffee table. "So I'll go down the street to the Laundromat and wash your clothes and take you back to your place where we'll part our separate ways. You can go back to tending Frank's bar nice and safe and sound, and I'll go back to the dangerous life I live, got it?"

“Thanks, for what you did back there," She said idly running a fingertip around the lip of her bottle of Bud, "But I am not going to let this go that easily."

He leaned back on the sofa and eyed her up and down. She had an attractive mix of vulnerability and courage. If she were his he would relish that about her, protecting her from that vulnerability and fostering the courage she was showing now in this moment. It was addictive and compelling to him, and he had to remind himself even if she would become his little slave it would still be impossible. The relationship he would demand they have would require absolute honesty from her yet every day he was here living out a lie. Not to mention the fact that the people he associated were very very very dangerous people to involve an innocent like her with.

No, any future they would have no matter how sweet would be a completely unacceptable risk for Gemma.

I need to get this off my chest," She continued, "Or it is going to eat me up inside.”

Shane watched her shaking her head and biting her lip adorable in her nervousness but still going ahead with the reckless bravery that summed her up so well.

"Just take your time," He offered, "Say what you have to."

“I know who you are," She said in a rush, like the words had to be hurried if they were to be spoken out loud, "And damn me I am a fool, but I can’t help it. What happened that night in the bar…. well it was something else… you were something else. You could have raped me, in fact you were plainly ordered to, but you didn’t… not really.”

He paused when she said she knew who he was wondering if she had somehow seen through his cover, but shrugged trying to regain his persona as a hardened criminal, "I said I wasn't a rapist, but I'm no better than Snake or any of the others in the syndicate."

“I don’t think you are anything like the man with the tattoo on his neck," She replied putting down her beer on the coffee table beside his, "You are different, demanding, but what you did that night... I have never felt like that before. Despite everything you made me feel safe."

His eyes widened and he repeated her last word, "Safe? With me? A total stranger to you?"

"You took everything from me, but you never once made me regret it," She continued, "And on top of that when you left I felt like I had lost something, and I didn’t even know what it was.”

"I Know, Gemma," He raised his beer and lifted it to his lips to give himself something more to do that peer into those open deep and giving eyes of hers, "Back at the warehouse...Before I came out and saw him ontop of you at the bar...I was getting a blowjob from Katja...One of the best whores we have there, but no matter how good she was at it it was only pissing me off, because god-damn me...I couldn't get you out of my mind."

He shook himself cradling the bottle of Budweiser in his hands and staring at the label. "This can't go on, you realize? The two of us...we wouldn't have a future together...Its not just the danger you'd be put in associating with me." He looked into her eyes then, "I'm not...I have more sides to me than you know...sides that mean the two of us...it'd never be anything more than temporary, and you deserve better than that."

Gemma rose to her feet suddenly anxious to move, “If you just want to go on, then so be it. Just know you’ve impacted my life greatly.” She raised one hand to her hair which was still damp and pulled it over one shoulder giving Barrow a sheepish look at the same time. “I won’t go back to Frank. I can’t be involved in this drug business any more than I already have. Besides, I think that snake man can hold a grudge.”

"You'd be right about him," He agreed. He looked up to her and god-damn him he could feel his resistance crumbling.

This wasn't a smart idea. It wasn't good to her or to him. But he'd been so deep under for so long....he needed some air even for a night.

He raised a finger up between them, "One night, and one night only, Gemma, If you want it. This won't be like last night where you were given no choice. It's up to you, and with a word you can stop it at any time, but if you want it you will have to trust me completely. You will do whatever I tell you to."

He placed the beer back down on the coffee table, "It won't be easy either. I will push you places you would never think you'd ever go."

He looked back up at her into her eyes and leaned back spreading his arms on the back of the couch, lounging on it. Now that he had decided to do this Shane felt settled. The uncertainty was gone now that he had committed to the course with her.

"So what will it be, Gemma," He asked her, "One night you'd never forget or just the two of us parting ways right now for good?"
 
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(OOC: This post was a collaborative effort by Veroe and I. Separate parts will be italicized and bolded.)

Thoughts of the woman called Katja filled Gemma’s head. She was unreasonably jealous that this other woman had unlimited access to Barrow. She was frowning when she noticed the change in Barrow. She could tell that he was mulling over something. He seemed to make up his mind as he raised up his hand and lifted his finger.

One night, and one night only, Gemma, If you want it. This won't be like last night where you were given no choice. It's up to you, and with a word you can stop it at any time, but if you want it you will have to trust me completely. You will do whatever I tell you to. He put his hand down and placed the bottle of beer once more on the table. Gemma almost smiled with the sudden flood of excitement. She would have this night with him. Though she wanted more she was grateful enough that she did not say anything. She was trying to think why he was acting like this was some strange business arrangement when he spoke again.

It won't be easy either. I will push you places you would never think you'd ever go. Gemma’s head tilted to the side for a moment as she watched him. This was an odd thing to say, but considering their history she didn’t think things could get any weirder than that. Nevertheless his tone seemed slightly ominous and there was a definite hint of confidence and a lingering secret hidden beneath his mysterious exterior.

So what will it be, Gemma, He asked her, One night you'd never forget or just the two of us parting ways right now for good?

Gemma took a deep breath and felt her heart flutter in her chest. She was going to do this. She wanted to experience this time with him despite everything that may mean for her.

“I would like this night,” she said a slight smile lifting the corners of her lips. She saw Barrow visibly relax even more so than he had before. Perhaps she could convince him that they would need more than just a night? She almost laughed at that, but Barrow’s sudden shift in demeanor distracted her.

"Go stand over there. Facing the wall.”

The order came as a surprise. Gemma hadn’t been expecting things to move so quickly, nor had she expected this. What was to come for her, for them if this was the start of their night? With just a bit of trepidation she turned away from him and walked to the far end of his apartment. She was still easily within his sight, but she looked over her shoulder anyway and caught him watching with rapt attention.

"There's my stereo right in front of you," He told her, "Turn it on. Select the fourth song from the top."

Gemma turned and looked around for the stereo. She could feel her nerves beginning to take hold. This night was going to be unlike anything she had ever encountered. As she reached for the button her hand trembled. She stopped a moment before turning the stereo on. Her breathing was beginning to get uncontrolled but she closed her eyes and waited. Music poured from the speakers, but it was not right. It was only the first song on the player and he had clearly indicated he wanted the fourth. She scrolled through the songs until she reached the one he wanted. The slow sexy beat of Sail-Awolnation began to play out from the speakers.

"Close your eyes, Gemma. Let the music flow over you until it and you and my voice are the only things in this room. Shift your weight from one foot to the other in time with the music. Now put more of your hips into it...back and forth...Open your eyes and let go of the boxers."

Just like at the bar Barrow pulled her away from everything. She was only aware of the present, what was happening at this this very moment. He was very good at creating that net of safety and comfort. Gemma’s eyes opened and her skin prickled with awareness of him. She bit her lip as she released the boxers from her hand and felt them slide over the round swell of her buttocks. They fell in a puddle at her feet and she stepped away from them.

"Damn girl," He said in aroused response, "Are you getting wet yet?"

If he had seen her face he would have noticed the blush that colored her cheeks, “Yes,” she answered. She was nervous but this only seemed to excite her further and the divine warmth spreading from her thighs was only creating a deep need within her.

"Show me."

Again she looked over her shoulder, and sure enough he was still watching. Gemma smiled and looked back at the wall as she leaned forward and flipped up the end of the jersey. The fabric rested on her lower back exposing the curves of her ass, and then the length of her long legs.

Gemma stood on her toes for a moment, flexing her calves as she wiggled her hips from side to side. This was not what he had told her to do, but Gemma felt adventurous and wanted to give him a show.

"Mmmm...flirty girl. Gemma, show me now."

His command was firm. A shiver forced its way up her spine while she pushed her hands up against the wall. She kicked one leg to the side and stood with her legs spread as her back arched to expose herself in the most wanton way possible.

"Good girl. Now back up and lose the jersey...slow..tease it...be playful over it."

She swayed her hips slightly and stood once more, casually turning to face him. He was watching her intently as she stroked her hands across her bare thighs. Her fingertips trailed along her skin stopping once she reached the very edge of the fabric. She pulled it up just slightly so he would have a glimpse of the junction of her thighs and then brought it back down. A small smile spread across her features as she brought it back up again, and this time did not stop. The fabric grazed her skin and cupped the curve of her breasts before releasing them for his view. She let the jersey fall to the floor once she had completely slipped it off her body.

"Good girl. Now get on the floor. On your hands and knees. Keep your eyes on me, Gemma."

Gemma could feel her heart racing, but as she looked into his eyes she knew there was nothing to worry about. Slowly she knelt on the floor and placed her hands in front of her waiting for further instruction from him.

"That was just the warm up Gemma. This is when the shit starts to get real for you." He told her his eyes drilling into hers, "You can still quit now, but after this point...I don't think you know what you're messing with. You cost me a blow job from an expert earlier and I mean to have it from you here instead. And when you start there will be no stopping until you're swallowing my come." He crooked his finger in a come here gesture, "So if you want this to get more serious. Crawl to me, Gemma. Slow. Sway your hips like a cat."

Gemma did not immediately move. He kept hinting at things to come, and it was beginning to make her nervous. She clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to stand and walk away. Instead she did not take her eyes from him as she began crawling along the floor her hips swaying, her body completely nude before him. For just a moment she thought she saw him inhale sharply and adjust his position on the couch. This would be all worth it. She would take whatever he had to give her no matter what it might be.

Her heart raced in her chest and she could hear it thundering in her ears as she crept between his legs. With her eyes still focused on his she trailed her hands up his thighs and all the way up to the waistline of his pants.

"Gemma. Do you see the tent in the crotch of my jeans. That's my cock. Run your fingers over it. Do you feel how big its gotten? How hard it is? That's from watching you strip just now, naughty girl." He stroked her cheek, "Free it from my jeans. Don't use your hands."


Gemma leaned her head into his touch relishing the feel of his fingers as they stroked her cheek. Her fingers lingered over his groin while she rose up on her knees. Gemma’s gaze dropped as she took the button of his pants in her mouth. She worked it through the slit of fabric and pulled his denim open, exposing the zipper beneath. This she took between her teeth and carefully worked the zipper down further.

"How many boyfriends have had, Gemma," He asked, "Take my cock. Show me what you can do?"

Gemma did not respond to his question, but images of Adam and Ian flashed before her eyes. This was something that neither of them would have every done with her. Sure, she had given them the occasional blow job, but this was so far beyond that and she did not want to think about them any longer. She winked at Barrow and continued tugging on the zipper.

By the time Gemma had gotten him completely undone she could feel his thick length pressing against her face. Gemma took his hardness in her mouth pulling him up against the fabric of his boxers. His head pushed through the convenient opening in the underwear and Gemma licked at the tip sliding her mouth over the head. Her tongue circled the crown, carefully tasting and testing him. Her gaze lifted to him, studying his reaction wondering if he was enjoying everything she was doing. If she was pleasing to him.

She pressed her mouth further down onto his erection, pushing the fabric out of the way as she did so. She had never taken anyone all the way down before, and Barrow seemed to be of a decent length. She could feel him just at the back of her throat, and there was still more to go. Gemma pressed her tongue in undulating waves up his shaft as she pulled her head up. She tried once more to take him further, but she only pushed him back a little before she had to pull up again. She repeated her up and down motion, realizing that with practice she could take him a tiny bit further each time. Her tongue worked around him all the while, seeming to have a mind of its own as it traced, circled, and darted about.

**

In the warehouse…

“Come here, Consuela,” the man’s voice did not ask for argument and the woman quickly moved over to his side.

His dark eyes bored into hers and Consuela shivered before him. He was angry. She could see that. The whole mess with Shane and Snake had created a huge problem for the syndicate, and she was partly responsible.

“Do you know why I told you not to let her go anywhere?”

Consuela’s brows tilted in confusion and she shifted from one foot to the other, “No, Sir.”

“I told you because I knew as soon as I saw that young girl that she was exactly His type. He has been hunting for a new one for a long time, and she looks so fresh. Katja could only satiate Him for so long…” the man trailed off and looked over his shoulder noticing the blonde whore standing at the entrance with her head down.

“Now you’ve fucked up. You let Barrow beat the shit out of Snake and then he and the girl both ran off. Now I have to clean up after your mess, and somehow get that girl back here,” he said while a muscle in his jaw twitched.

Consuela glanced at the floor afraid to meet his eyes anymore, “I’m sorry, Sir. I couldn’t stop it. She was here to meet Barrow and when Snake saw her he recognized her. I don’t know what happened at Frank’s but he seemed angry about something and by the time Barrow came out it was already too late.”

His hand reached out and he grabbed a handful of her hair at the nape of her neck and jerked her towards him, “Consuela, you are a smart woman. You know better than to give me your sorry excuses.” He traced a finger along the woman’s jaw and grabbed her throat with his other hand.

“I think it is about time that you pay for what you’ve done here. You’re coming upstairs with me.” He glanced up at Katja and nodded to her, “You too whore. I want both of you.” He spun Consuela around and still gripping her hair led her out of the bar and back towards the stairs with Katja in tow.
 
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IC: Shane Barrow

"How many boyfriends have you had, Gemma," He asked, "Take my cock. Show me what you can do?"

Shane was a little impressed with her. Most girls unused to thinking of themselves in such sensual lights wouldn't have gone through the strip tease and crawling across the floor to him like she had. They're inhibitions would have made them hesitate, to not commit to it. Not so with Gemma. She had connected with her sexual side like a duck taking to the water, and the trust she showed in him even though they had really only just met.

Still though she had to have some limits, and Shane relished pushing her right up to them.

She didn't answer his question, instead she winked up at him, in an adorable way, and took his zipper by the teeth and lowered it. Then fished his cock out of his pants. Looking up at him she tested it with her tongue sweeping the silken appendage around his cockhead.

"Mmmmm..." He murmured reaching down to run his fingers over the side of her cheek again.

Encouraged by that she took him within her mouth and tried valiantly to take him all the way but only managed about halfway down. The tip of his cock slid in to the back of her throat where she stopped. But she kept at it like he knew she would. She may not have the experience or skills of katja, but she had some things Katja didn't have. Gemma had the enthusiasm and trust in him alone of only a novice.

"You didn't answer me about your boyfriends, Gemma," He stated, "Would that be because you are reluctant about speaking of them or because you're cheating on the one you have now." His eyes narrowed reproachfully on her, "I can't imagine a man passing up a chance to date a sexy thing like you. Even if you are foolishly reckless where your safety is concerned." There was a touch of possessiveness to his tone as he said that last he chose to ignore for now.

He pulled her off of him and crossed his arms before her, "Tell me now Gemma or you'll regret it."

When she answered he nodded, "Good."

He lowered his hands to either side of her head. "Take my hands and put them on either side of your head. I'm going to take control now, Gemma," He told her as she guided his hands to the sides of her head.

"Now put your hands on top of my thighs, and do not move them for any reason. I'm going to use your mouth on my cock, and I'm going to push you all the way down on to it. You will gag and choke as my cock goes past your mouth and into your throat, but do not panic when that happens." He told her, "I will let you catch your breath and recover, but only when I decide to allow it."

"You will have to trust me completely, Gemma," He asked, "Can you do that?"

He nodded at her answer,"If it becomes too much for you at any time hold up two fingers, and I will stop."

"Are you ready then," He asked, "Take a deep breath. Its all you're going to get for a while."

He pushed her down then slow so she could experience every moment, every sensation as he forced her mouth down over his cockhead and then the shaft. He reached halfway where she had stopped before. The tip of his cock nudged against the back of her throat and he pressed her head down further. His cock slipped down into her throat and then back up and down again. Each time he pushed her down a little further.

And then finally her nose pressed against the base of his cock and the entire length was lodged deep into her throat.

He kept her there a moment before pulling her back up to catch her breath. "Good girl," He said with a pleased smile. He used his thumb to wipe the drool off her chin. When she got her wind back Shane lent down and kissed her possessively.

"Ready to go again," He asked her, "This time it will be harder, Gemma."
 
Gemma felt empowered. There was no other word to describe what she was doing. This very intimate moment between her and Barrow was broken only by the sounds of his approval. She arched her head back and brought him lower, chancing a glance up at him through her lashes. He was watching her work his attention so acutely focused on her that she almost forgot everything that had brought them here until he spoke once more...

You didn't answer me about your boyfriends, Gemma. Would that be because you are reluctant about speaking of them or because you're cheating on the one you have now. His eyes narrowed reproachfully on her, I can't imagine a man passing up a chance to date a sexy thing like you. Even if you are foolishly reckless where your safety is concerned. His voice was firm and Gemma knew she would have to respond soon, but she didn’t want to bring that up.

Unfortunately she had no choice as her lips glided past the tip of his cock and she was brought back upright while he folded her arms in front of her. Tell me now Gemma or you'll regret it.

The way he held her with her arms wrapped in front of her was confining. If she had chosen to run away there would be no escape from his grip. She was effectively cornered into the past her thoughts drifting back to unwanted memories. With a shiver and a soft sigh she raised her eyes up to meet him.

“I don’t have anyone now.” Except you her inner voice added despite the knowledge that this would only be a temporary thing between them. Regardless, her answer seemed to please him as he nodded, Good, he said softly to her the tone in his voice much different than only a moment ago.

His hands traveled up her arms and rested on either side of her neck just below her head as he looked her directly in the eye and commanded, Take my hands and put them on either side of your head. I'm going to take control now, Gemma.

Gemma placed her hands over his, tangling her fingers between his as she brought them up higher on her head. She was beginning to guess what he wanted with this even though she paused momentarily and let her cheek rest in his palms. It was a comforting gesture, but she kept his hands moving and pushed them up to either side of her head as he requested. She felt slightly odd sitting on her heels with his hands on her head, but even still she did not resist him and dropped her hands waiting for his next order.

Now put your hands on top of my thighs, and do not move them for any reason. I'm going to use your mouth on my cock, and I'm going to push you all the way down on to it. You will gag and choke as my cock goes past your mouth and into your throat, but do not panic when that happens. He told her, I will let you catch your breath and recover, but only when I decide to allow it. She moved her hands slowly onto his thighs gripping the denim between her fingers.

He paused just a moment to let that settle in and seemed to notice the sudden nervousness that flashed in her eyes, You will have to trust me completely, Gemma. Can you do that?

Gemma swallowed back the flood of nerves that threatened this very moment. She was here now with him, what could be worse? He’d protected her in the bar, would he do that only to harm her now? She couldn’t be sure and felt like she was taking a plunge off a cliff when her head nodded against his hands, “Yes.”

If it becomes too much for you at any time hold up two fingers, and I will stop. She nodded again in response acknowledging that she had heard him. Are you ready then, He asked, Take a deep breath. It’s all you're going to get for a while.

Gemma’s chest rose as she inhaled through her nose. Barrow guided her down back to his groin as her mouth enveloped the head of his shaft. She felt the pressure of his hands on her head and did not resist him as he guided her further down. Her tongue dragged lazily against him, tasting him, tracing across the occasional vein that interrupted the smooth length.

She felt him reach that point and knew he was going to guide her further. Gemma’s fingers tightened on his thigh, clenching the denim fabric in her fist. His hands were a gentle presence on her head, persistent, but calm. He was forcing her farther and she felt a tickle at the back of her throat. Gemma fought the urge that threatened to toss her head back and force her to retch while her throat flexed around him. She closed her eyes and he slid farther within, but she was ultimately unable to breathe. Instead she swallowed as if she had just taken a huge drink of water and this allowed his shaft to go even further as his hands guided her head.

Gemma could not explain how nervous she was in that moment. Her heart raced with wild abandon, but just as easily as he slipped in he raised her head and she was able to take a short breath in again. Again he pushed down, and again his erection slipped even farther than before until eventually he had gotten to the point where her nose was pressed against his abdomen and he was as far back as he could go. Tears of exertion welled at the corners of Gemma’s eyes, and with the force of gravity began pooling onto her cheek.

Slowly Gemma’s tongue urged its way past her lips and stroked the soft globes of flesh that hung at the base of his cock. She had only a moment to do that before she was pulled back upright again and her lips made a pop as they released their treasure. Gemma’s tears rolled down her cheeks, but Barrow seemed thrilled.

Good Girl, he said with a smile as he reached out and wiped away a trace of her saliva from her chin. Gemma wanted to catch his thumb between her lips and suck it into her mouth much the same way as she had done with his cock. Unfortunately he pulled his hand away and she was left looking into his eyes, her chest heaving in attempts to replace the oxygen she had been deprived of.

In a flash Barrow bent forward and their lips met. Gemma was so surprised that she almost drew back. His kiss was hard, and claimed her allowing her lips only the smallest give beneath his. It was almost an angry kiss as if he had been withheld for so long. When he pulled away Gemma could not help but note how unsteady it left her, how much more she wanted from him.

With his face still in front of hers his eyes seemed to study her. She could have sworn that he was seeing everything—her fear, her insecurities, her need—but instead he asked, Ready to go again? This time it will be harder, Gemma.

A frission of fear slide up her spine causing her to shiver. Harder? She fretted over the ominous meaning behind that word. He had asked her to trust him, but could she go further if it meant venturing into territory that might make her uncomfortable? Gemma worried at her lower lip with her teeth, but nodded all the same. She wasn’t going to give up now.

“I’m ready,” she said quietly.
 
IC: Shane Barrow

"Ready to go again," He asked her, "This time it will be harder, Gemma."

Shane watched her reactions closely. He peered deep into her eyes as thought over his words and her response. He could see the battle waging behind those eyes the trepidation and the doubts versus the anticipation and its twin allies Gemma's desire to please him and to prove to him she was capable of taking whatever he could do to her.

Foolish of her, but oh so very brave and sexy and submissive as hell.

Finally she made her mind up and gave her answer. “I’m ready,”

Her voice had been quiet but firm.

"Good girl." Shane leaned back and pushed her head back down over his throbbing cock faster and harder this time. Then back up and immediately pushing her head back down to the base. It wasn't an easy thing. He was a well-endowed man after all and he gave her no respite this time. This time was hard and fast pistoning her head and driving his cock back and forth down her throat.

His head rolled back and he inhaled sharply as pleasure washed over him. Pleasure at the sensations she was giving him and pleasure at her submission to him. He looked down to see her head rocking up and down his length. She was struggling against her gag reflex now, which only made him pull her head up and down it faster. Tears were rolling down her cheek and strings of her saliva hung down from her chin and pooling onto the floor.

"Look at me, Gemma," He commanded pushing her head down to the base of his hard cock and leaving it there, "Your eyes to mine."

When her beautiful blue eyes met his he stared into them with cock lodged deep into her throat. Shane counted out loud.

"One...two...three...four...five....six...."

By seven her throat convulsed as she choked on him, out of reflex and also out of panic she tried to pull back, but Shane kept her head right where she was.

"...Eight...nine..."

He watched her hands carefully. Hanging on whether she'd raise them to push his hands off of her head and take back control of her movements from him. Or even to lift them to hold up those two fingers he had told her to use to tell him to back off.

At Ten he pulled her head off of his cock.

He bent down patting her back and fingers lifting her hair out of her face as she hacked and coughed, "Breathe now, Gemma. Breathe deep. It's alright. You did very good, great even considering it was your first time at it. I am pleased with you."

He pulled his T-shirt off and held it out for her. "Clean yourself up and crawl over to the bed."

He watched her as he raised up from the sofa and kicked off his shoes and jeans.

"You did well, Gemma, get up on the bed face up. Say hello to the ceiling."

He walked over to the side of the bed and the table beside it. Opening a drawer he lifted up the gleaming pair of handcuffs over her and laid them on her chest. Then he took out a black silk scarf and laid it between her breasts. Next was a pair of nipple clamps he dangled over her and laid over her ribs just beneath the breasts he'd use them on. Then he pulled out a vibrating egg and its remote control and laid them over her belly button. Then he placed a tube of lube he placed over the juncture of her thighs. Finally he pulled out a black suede flogger and held it over her face.

"Take this, Gemma," He told her, "Run your fingers over it. Feel the texture of its falls. It's the lightest one I have. It will sting but only for a short time and it won't damage you."

He sat down on the side of the bed next to her. "How do you feel about it Gemma? Do you trust me to use these things on you without hurting you?"
 
Good girl.

It was the last thing she heard before her head was brought back to his lap and she willingly took his length in her mouth. Before he had allowed her more freedom to explore but now his urgency was apparent as she felt the head of his cock press at the back of her throat and then with a just the slightest push it went further. Her eyes pinched close and she felt her throat protest the intrusion as it flexed around him. He pulled her back just as fast but she barely had enough time to catch her breath before she was forced down on him again.

Gemma felt her heart racing in her chest. She was nervous, and excited all at once. If anyone knew what she was doing at this moment, with this man they probably would have her committed. For the first time in her life she knew that what she was doing was entirely her own choice even if it may not be the smartest one. Despite the lack of air, despite the burning she was beginning to feel in her lungs, despite everything she continued. Tears had begun streaming down her face and her head spun reminding her that she needed air to live.

Look at me, Gemma. His voice was like the bright light at the end of a tunnel and immediately redirected her thoughts. When she lifted her blue eyes to his she saw that he was watching her as intently as she had been focused on her task. She wondered what he was thinking. There was no doubting that he seemed pleased. His eyes had developed a softer, unfocused gaze. She could tell that he was breathing a little faster, albeit unevenly. She had the desired effect on him, and perhaps it was similar to that day in the bar when he had her bent over the counter.

She felt the pressure of his hands again as he pushed her head down. Almost instinctively she sensed what he wanted and once again struggled to focus on relaxing the muscles in her throat. Her lips met the base of his shaft and the very end of her nose brushed his abdomen. She felt her lungs starting to protest. She hadn’t had enough air before she had come down and now here she was again with no way to breathe.

Would this be the moment he betrayed her? The thought was fleeting as she heard him start the count and focused on the words.

One… she could do this.

Two… all she needed was to focus.

Three… just focus.

Four… but her throat was beginning to fight.

Five… she wanted air.

Six… tears rolled down her cheeks.

Seven… her throat tightened on him, and her eyes closed tightly.

Eight… her fingers curled around his thigh.

Nine… the denim bunched beneath her hand while she fought against her desire to raise up.

Ten… finally he released her and she almost fell back from him onto her back. She took huge gasping breaths that directed the air down deep.

Breathe now, Gemma. Breathe deep. It's alright. You did very good, great even considering it was your first time at it. I am pleased with you. Gemma was speechless, partly because she was still trying to catch her breath, but also because she had pleased him. She wanted to smile but he had removed his shirt and she caught herself staring. His body showed just how much work he put in with the exercise equipment in his apartment, however it was not just that which had her captivated. He had several tattoos over his upper body, tattoos which were complex and unique.

There was meaning to the designs, but she had not time to ask because he held his shirt out to her and wanted her to clean up. She wiped the saliva from her lips and chin catching a whiff of his scent before she crawled over to the bed as he had asked her to. She climbed on top and waited patiently. He went over to a chest near the bed and began pulling things from the box. Each implement he laid on her body and with each new item Gemma became more intrigued, and slightly more nervous. The last thing he pulled out resembled a whip only with more tails and sported a heavy handle woven with leather.

Gemma’s eyes grew wide as she stared at the object he held above her. Take this, Gemma. Run your fingers over it. Feel the texture of its falls. It's the lightest one I have. It will sting but only for a short time and it won't damage you.

Gemma was still staring at the thing when she felt the bed shift slightly. She looked over and noticed he had sat near her and was watching her curiously. She knew he wanted an answer and yet she wasn’t sure where to start.

How do you feel about it Gemma? Do you trust me to use these things on you without hurting you?

Gemma swallowed back her nerves and sat upright as she placed each item neatly on the bed. She turned back to him and took the whip thing in hand. The fells were smooth almost like the skin of a baby or the softest grain of peach fuzz. However, they were heavy in her hand. Heavier than she had expected them to be. She curled the tails in her fist and raised her eyes up to meet his.

“I’m afraid of this to be sure, however, despite all the warnings I have lived by since I was little and all my common sense I am not afraid of you.” Gemma pressed the handle back into his hand but allowed her fingers to brush over his before she let go. She reached out and touched a tattoo just above his heart. The tips of her fingers traced the edges of the tattoo and she thought briefly about bringing her lips to meet those boundaries.

Instead she said, “I like these. Will you tell me what they mean to you?”

*************

Bread could be compared to nothing other than an oversized gorilla. He was a large man with enough muscle to serve as the “hit man” whenever someone needed a beat down. He carried himself much like a gorilla with his arms in front swaying in front of him as if they were too large to carry at his sides. Even his steps seemed to make the floor vibrate beneath him. However, the man was not smart and possessed a mild disposition that made him a favorite of the woman of the club.

He could see his weakness as Bread came forward and noticed Katja with her rear in the air, pinned beneath the weight of a stockade. Her bottom looked like a road map with interlacing welts and little rivers of dried blood. Bread’s face visibly paled at the sight of the other woman and he looked like he might be sick but still he kept going stopping only once he had reached the desk with its network of televisions directly behind it.

“What did you need Boss?”

“We need to move what product we have here to safe house. We can’t risk getting exposed now that we may possibly have been compromised.”

“Sure thing Boss, should I take Snake?”

“Yes, and when you are finished I want you to return here. I have another job for you.”
 
IC: Shane Barrow

He sat down on the side of the bed next to her. "How do you feel about it Gemma? Do you trust me to use these things on you without hurting you?"

Shane watched her look up at him. It was a remarkable thing she'd trusted him this far, and he was eager to push her to see if she'd trust him even further, but it was a big choice, and not one to be rushed. So he waited giving her the time to think it through.

She swallowed and looked at the flogger and then down at the implements he had laid atop her. She reached down and began laying them down on the bed beside her. Free of the toys she rolled up onto her hands and knees in front of him. She looked up at his naked body.

"Well," He asked looking down at her.

She took the flogger in her hand again and after a moment's more exploration of the soft texture of its falls commented, “I’m afraid of this to be sure." She had taken her fingers and closed them around the falls in a tight fist and looking up into Shane's eyes before she continued, "However, despite all the warnings I have lived by since I was little and all my common sense I am not afraid of you.”

He swallowed down a surge of possessive emotion and had to look away from her for a moment. He had to remind himself that he and Gemma was just a one time thing. Yet here he was suddenly desiring his collar around her neck. He had never wanted that before. Not with Katja or any of the other subs at the syndicate's headquarters, but this plain simple and naïve little girl...she was different. He wanted her like a man stuck in the desert wanted a bottle of water.

But he had to let her go. He walked through the shit and knives. There was no way he could drag her through that. Gemma was too pure and innocent to survive the world he traveled through. He shouldn't be doing this to her, but he couldn't help himself. Like that man in the desert when given water he had to drink...at least for just this night, and then tomorrow he'd boot her ass out the door for her own good.

She gave him back the flogger her fingers lingering over his sending electric tingles up his arm. Then she reached up and ran her fingers over the tattoo on his chest.

“I like these," She said, "Will you tell me what they mean to you?”


He glanced down at them, "Inquisitive little thing, aren't you?" He took her hand in his and lifted it away from the tattoo.

His mind was racing trying to figure out what to tell her. Most of these tattoos had been given him as part of his cover. The plan was to have them removed when he completed this assignment.

Then an idea hit him.

"I will tell you, Gemma," He told her, "But the answers you want to know about me will come with a price."

He lifted the flogger infront of her. "For every question you want me to answer you must receive one stroke from this."

He lowered the flogger and grabbed her chin. He lifted her up and kissed her, or claimed her with a kiss. He let her fall back to the bed and peered deep into her eyes. "So what do you say, Gemma?"
 
Inquisitive little thing, aren't you? His hand enveloped hers but he did not hold her hand to him as much as she had been hoping for. Instead he pulled her hand down and away. Gemma almost frowned, she wanted so much to explore every inch of him, but he guided her away each time.

Gemma’s eyes lifted to Barrow but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. The question was simple enough yet he clearly struggled to answer her. Perhaps there were memories attached to these tattoos, difficult memories that he did not wish to explain to her just yet. She let her hands rest in her lap as she knelt on the bed and waited for him to say something.

Finally his attention seemed to focus back on her and his mouth curved just slightly into the hints of a smile, I will tell you, Gemma, he told her, But the answers you want to know about me will come with a price.

Gemma’s head cocked to the side as she stared at him. She couldn’t imagine that her questions would require such a demand. She wondered what he could possibly require from her for each answer. Fortunately she didn’t have to guess to the answer as he held up the flogger between them. For every question you want me to answer you must receive one stroke from this.

Gemma’s eyes widened at that suggestion. There were a lot of tattoos covering him and that would mean a lot of lashes if she were to know the answer to each and every one of them. How much did those long tails sting? She was staring at the flogger when she felt his hand beneath her chin again bringing her up to him. His lips met hers and in that moment Gemma forgot everything that worried her. They were so close that she could feel his chest press against hers. Her nipples had a mind of their own and rose to perky little mounds before he released her and she almost collapsed back onto the bed.

So what do you say, Gemma?

Again a question, another damning question that would decide her fate when her head was clearly not prepared to make such a decision. Gemma was on the edge of a cliff with Barrow, but it was a repeating scene. He would send her precariously diving into the depths only to draw her back again to repeat the cycle once more, and she loved it. She was eating it up like it was the last thing on Earth left for her.

“What if I change my mind? What if I want to know only one thing?” Gemma almost laughed but instead she let the smile slide across her lips as she brought her hand up to Barrow again. This time her finger brushed against the hands that appeared to be clasped in prayer.

“This one first. This one does not seem to fit,” she said while her hand dropped to the bed again. Her smile had not quite disappeared when she raised her eyes up to meet his again. Without looking away she laid back against the bed and parted her legs just slightly. One leg dangled off the end of the bed and stretched out towards his muscled thighs. Slowly she stroked her foot up the inside of his leg feeling a thrill shoot up her spine at the same time.

She was pushing it and she knew it. Barrow was supposed to be calling the shots and yet here she was teasing him, knowing too well what things would come from this. Her head turned towards the implements and then back to him as a sigh left her lips, “I suppose I should get into position.”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she rolled slowly to her side and stretched forward across the bed. Her back was arched towards the bed, but her rear remained in the air in a very cat-like stretch. Gemma pushed her arms out until she could feel the edge of the mattress between her hands. She gripped it and arched her back even more. She allowed her hips to wiggle just a bit and turned her head to the side to gauge Barrow’s reaction to everything.

“Is this okay?” she asked with a smile still teasing the corners of her mouth.
 
IC: Shane Barrow

"I will tell you, Gemma," He told her, "But the answers you want to know about me will come with a price."

He lifted the flogger infront of her. "For every question you want me to answer you must receive one stroke from this."

He lowered the flogger and grabbed her chin. He lifted her up and kissed her, or claimed her with a kiss. He let her fall back to the bed and peered deep into her eyes. "So what do you say, Gemma?"

She looked up at him eyes full of so much untapped submission...and something far more dangerous...so dangerous he hesitated to name it. No, it was just the heat of the moment. They barely knew each other after all.

“What if I change my mind?"

His eyebrow quirked, "Have you?"

"What if I want to know only one thing?” Gemma almost laughed but instead she let the smile slide across her lips as she brought her hand up to Barrow again. This time her finger brushed against the hands that appeared to be clasped in prayer.

"And what is that," He asked lowering his free hand to brush her hair back tenderly. Hers traced the inked skin of the tattoo on his side. It seemed to captivate her.

“This one first," She lowering her hand and raising that open and so very dangerous look up to him again.

If he wasn't careful he would let her turn this little one night stand into something that would plunge her into a world that would swallow up that beautiful innocence in her eyes.

"This one does not seem to fit.” Without looking away she laid back against the bed and parted her legs just slightly. One leg dangled off the end of the bed and stretched out towards his muscled thighs. Slowly she stroked her foot up the inside of his leg feeling a thrill shoot up her spine at the same time.

His eyebrow quirked again at feel of her toes tracing up his knee to the inside of his thigh. His cock still rock hard, though cooling now that it had been deprived of the warmth of her mouth for several minutes throbbed at look in her eyes.

Maybe she was not as innocent as she would seem. Or perhaps she was more adventurous than he'd give her credit for.

Shane's eyebrow quirked even higher. "Don't push me Gemma. You may not like where I take this if you do."

At that she looked back to the items he had all but declared he was going to use on her laying on the bed around her. She bit her lip and then looked back up to him. He expected some fear in her voice, but if she felt any she didn't show it.

“I suppose I should get into position.” There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she rolled slowly to her side and stretched forward across the bed. Her back was arched towards the bed, but her rear remained in the air in a very cat-like stretch. Gemma pushed her arms out until she could feel the edge of the mattress between her hands. She gripped it and arched her back even more. She allowed her hips to wiggle just a bit and turned her head to the side to gauge Barrow’s reaction to everything.

His eyebrow was still arched but a smile played over his lips at her playfulness. She was going to be a handful.

His free hand reached out and ran his fingers over the pale cheek of her ass. His thumb traced down the part of her buttocks.

"Arch your back a little more," He told her, "Tuck your knees under you a bit more. Good. I know its a little difficult, but can you stay like that for me, Gemma? No matter what I do to you."

His fingers closed taking a handful of her rump and parting the cheeks and staring at her asshole and the dripping slit of her sex. He raised his other hand and the flogger it was holding up. Its falls slid up between her parted cheeks. He kept it there for a moment over her pussy and asshole to let her feel the soft suede texture before dragging it up and over the cheek he held between his fingers.

"I guess I should probably answer your question about my tattoo now."

He traced the curve of her side with strands of the flogger. "I spent some time in a prison outside Guadalajara."

That was not a lie. He had spent some time at that Mexican prison. He just didn't mention that he hadn't been there as a prisoner. A previous mission had him posing as a reporter to interview some of the inmates there over a period of several weeks. He and his partner had gotten a crucial amount of information to shut down a vicious cartel's major pipeline of Marijuana and Cocaine across the border.

The falls grazed under and over a breast and her nipple before he dragged it over to splay wide over her back.

"They're predominately catholic there, and instead of preying to a god or savior that would judge the violent and sinful lifestyle the live. They prey to the next best thing...a manufactured saint, Santo de Muerte. They prey to him for luck and success in their endeavors and violent death to those that oppose them."

Shane's free hand dipped underneath her and began to tease and deny the touch of his fingers on her pussy and clitoris as he dragged the falls over the cheeks of her buttocks. "Don't move, Gemma."

"I worked freelance for the Cartel a number of times," He said continuing his explanation of the tattoo, "To show the good relations I had with them they allowed me to get this tattoo."

One finger parted the lips of her pussy as he brought the flogger up over the back of her thigh and up over her buttock.

"To them this tattoo says I'm someone they can trust as well as the importance of prayer to Santo de Muerte," He told her, "Most of these are more like a resume' to me and the people I work with than personally memorable to me."

He bent down and took a nip of the meat of one buttock as he pushed that finger within her to the first knuckle.

He lifted the flogger off her skin for the first time since he began. His finger stayed within her pushing in just past that first knuckle and slowly pulling it back in to push back within her remained.

"I have given you your answer, Gemma," He said to her looking into those eyes that carried naïve innocence and worldly mischief, "Are you ready to give me what I want from you."
 
Judging by the smile on his face Gemma could see that she had the desired effect on Shane. She wasn’t expecting his touch but delighted beneath the trace of his thumb over her bottom. She could feel him follow the curve and then dip between the cheeks into the valley. A sharp intake of air forced her breasts into the mattress momentarily as she gazed at him with an expression fogged by desire.

Arch your back a little more, He told her and she complied with not the slightest hesitation, Tuck your knees under you a bit more. Good. I know it’s a little difficult, but can you stay like that for me, Gemma? No matter what I do to you.

Gemma’s head nodded against the mattress and just as soon as she had given her consent to stay in this position she felt his hand upon her. He took one large handful of her rear and Gemma felt a rush of air to her nether regions as he exposed her for his view. This position was so open, so revealing and for a moment Gemma was sure she was being judged like an animal at auction. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment but at the same time she felt a rush of warmth between her legs. God! She was getting wet just by this shameless display of herself.

She didn’t know how long she had been kneeling before she felt the stroke of the falls. He had replaced his eyes with the touch of the flogger and Gemma could barely resist the shudder that threatened to spring upon her. She bit her lip to keep from groaning as the tails drew a path up her rear and his voice broke through the fog in her head.

I guess I should probably answer your question about my tattoo now. Did she nod? Gemma wasn’t sure but regardless he continued both with his story and the stroke of the flogger. I spent some time in a prison outside Guadalajara.

Prison? Guadalajara? Vague thoughts floated in her head as the tickle of the flogger passed over her back. She was trying so very hard to focus on his story. Perhaps if she had been paying more attention little warning bells would ring in her head. Bells that signaled this man was still a criminal—a criminal who may have saved her life but was in some sort of Mexican prison at one point in his life.

They're predominately catholic there, and instead of praying to a god or savior that would judge the violent and sinful lifestyle the live. They pray to the next best thing...a manufactured saint, Santo de Muerte. They pray to him for luck and success in their endeavors and violent death to those that oppose them.

Just as the flogger spread across her back she felt the touch of his fingers teasing, and testing the wetness between her legs. This time Gemma could do nothing to hold back the moan that erupted from her lips. She shivered with delight and tried to press her hips back into his hand but he cruelly withdrew his fingers. Gemma groaned into the mattress and heard Barrow’s admonishment of her over her own lamentation. She raised her eyes to him in a pleading gesture but he seemed focused on continuing his story.

I worked freelance for the Cartel a number of times, He said continuing his explanation of the tattoo, To show the good relations I had with them they allowed me to get this tattoo. His hand was like the invader that distracted her thoughts from the story. His fingers worked carefully to part her lips while he continued to drag the flogger over her skin in a gesture that was both frightening and soothing.

To them this tattoo says I'm someone they can trust as well as the importance of prayer to Santo de Muerte, He told her, Most of these are more like a resume' to me and the people I work with than personally memorable to me.

What an odd thing to say, Gemma thought but was interrupted from her own thoughts by the sudden sharp ache in her buttocks and a probing finger. She cried out in surprise thinking that Barrow had finally struck her with the flogger, but instead discovered that he had bitten her cheek. His finger crooked within her and she almost collapsed in the bed but remembered his instructions on her position. She slowly moved back to the way she had been, realizing for the first time how hard this would become if he were to continue the play with his fingers.

I have given you your answer, Gemma. Are you ready to give me what I want from you? He questioned her and for a moment she could not form the words. Her eyes lingered on the flogger which he held casually in the air as if it was not the very instrument with which he planned to torture her.

“Yes,” she finally managed to say her heart beginning to beat a crazy rhythm in her chest. He had told her that it was not quite as bad as it looked, but how much could she rely on his word? His hand was a pleasant distraction from the flogger and she moaned into the bed as her head turned away from him.

There seemed to be a lingering tension in the air, an electric spark that threatened to set the whole room ablaze with its power. Barrow drew out the tension seeming to enjoy Gemma’s moans and attempts to stay still while he worked his fingers so delicately within her. She was beginning to feel a familiar tightening and it was then that his fingers stopped and were drawn out. Gemma dared not move knowing exactly what was to come next.

Silence filled the room and save for Gemma’s soft pants of arousal there was nothing to interrupt the quiet calm. Gemma worried her lower lip while straining to hear Barrow behind her. He was so deathly quiet that she could have sworn she heard a slight woosh of air before the falls connected with her tender flesh. They bit into the skin but bounced away quickly leaving no visible reminder of their meeting. Gemma’s back flexed and her head shot off the bed as she let out a soft mewl of pain, but it was the feeling afterwards that had Gemma perplexed. Her rear stung just a little but she felt a warmth spreading from the hit and her body seemed to operate of its own will as she slowly eased back into the position from before.

She felt Barrow’s hands on her and then his face was within her sight and she was looking into his eyes which seemed to be questioning if she was alright. The genuine concern that showed in his eyes and through his voice soothed Gemma and she nodded her head in response to his question. She was fine, more than fine. She felt a smile creep onto her face as she thought back to the slight sting of the tails. The confusing mix of sensations he had given her was just a teasing taste that she had quite suddenly become obsessed with. She needed to know what else was in store for her.

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.
 
IC: Shane Barrow

"I have given you your answer, Gemma," He said to her looking into those eyes that carried naïve innocence and worldly mischief, "Are you ready to give me what I want from you?"

Shane peered deep into her eyes. He couldn't get enough of her reactions. With the girls in the club they're actions were always calculated, removed. Not so with Gemma. He saw it in the way she reacted to being examined by him. The way she had reacted from the caress of the flogger. He heard it in the way she moaned as his finger explored her arousal. The way she reacted when he pushed in and pulled out his finger in between her sex. Gemma naturally got lost in the moment, so only the present moment existed. The dominants there would eat her alive.

In response to his question Gemma looked back to him then lingered on the flogger in his hand. He saw the erotic tension playing out in her eyes and hung on her decision.

“Yes,” she finally managed to say.

He let out a breath in relief at the show of trust from her. Here he was a complete stranger to her and she was trusting him to use a flogger upon her. To reward that he pushed his finger in deeper within her making her moan out loud. She had tucked her head down as his finger drew out more delicious little moans of pleasure from her. The flogger in his other hand was raised waiting for the moment to press its own kiss to her backside.

The art of a good dominant was the management of the tension. That unique interplay between the fear and the pleasure of a submissive. Anticipation of pain while controlling the pace of his fingering of her sex ratcheted up the tension for Gemma higher and higher before her mind broke from the paradox. Gemma's nerve was tightening like a violin string...fearing...anticipating... the duality was gaining in tension..acting at the wrong moment or with the wrong touch and she'd snap on him.

For a long moment the only sound was the erotic sound of her heavy breaths as his finger explored the outer folds of her sex.

His hand moved the strands of the flogger swung in the air and he could see the goosebumps raise on her skin as she heard and identified what it was from. Then it came down impacting across both cheeks of her ass in a fan-like pattern. He hadn't swung with full force, but instead used a moderate strike. He didn't want to go overboard on Gemma right away during her first time.

Shane just wanted to introduce her to the concept of pain and pleasure being inexplicably linked. He had hit her with just enough force to feel a momentary sting that would suffuse to heat sinking down to her pussy. So a part of her would crave another, and harder.

He watched her reaction carefully as her head rocketed up off the bed and she made the sexiest mewl of pain Shane had heard for its honesty. He watched her slowly sink back into position as if asking him for another. Yes she had gotten a sample of the connection between pain and pleasure.

His hand moved tenderly caressing over the area of her buttocks he had struck keeping the nerve endings tingling there. Then he bent down draping the flogger across her shoulders. Keeping one hand caressing her buttocks the other tucked her hair behind her ear so she now looked directly into his.

He kept noting how honest her reactions were...here in this moment she needed him to be just as honest...she needed to see his concern for her in his eyes.

"Are you all right, Gemma?" His voice usually as rough as demeanor suggested was now softened with that concern for her well-being in this moment.

Her response was to nod her head against the bedsheets. Then a smile crept over her lips telling him oh so much.

He smiled in return. "Do you want more, or do you want me to stop?"

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.

"Good girl," He said with a smile that was a slightly more ominous version of hers.

He raised up on his knees and peering down on her. "Now I am going to ask you to choose a number between one and five, Gemma." He lifted the flogger off of her shoulders. "The catch is you won't know what you're choosing."

He dragged the falls of the flogger over her spine to the part of her heart-shaped sexy ass. "It could be how many more times I use this on you. Or it could be how many more harder more painful floggers I use after this one."

He lifted the flogger off of her so it just hung over her rump a hairsbreadth of air separating it from her flesh. "Or it could be that you're choosing something else entirely."

He moved the flogger dipping it beneath her so it tipped her chin up and over so they could look eye to eye. "You will have to choose based solely on how much you trust me. So what will it be, Gemma, pick a number between one and five."

He did not question why he was putting her through trust games after only just meeting her. This had the potential of blowing up in both of their faces, but Shane needed to know the answer even now...deep down, beyond the part of him telling himself that she was just a one-time fling.

How much did she trust him?
 
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