When people ask me what I do, I'm always tempted to give an answer both smart ass and honest. "I hurt people for money, and then in my spare time I hurt people for money." That is what I'd like to tell most of the people who ask and sometimes what I actually do.
If there was such a thing as Thugs Anonymous I would step up in front of a crowd of large, violent and formerly violent people and say "Hi. My name is Danny and I'm a cage-fighter." Which is to say that once or twice a month I step into a small octagon surrounded by chain link fence 8 feet high and beat the hell out of a guy for a purse of two hundred fifty dollars. Twice a month that's half a grand. Which is not quite enough to keep me in Fig Newtons so I occasionally take jobs where I hurt someone somebody wants hurt for some amount of money, usually about a couple hundred dollars. Between these two gigs I do okay. I prefer the cage-fighting as it is a sport and a career whereas the other is more of a part time job. So that is why I would like to say I hurt people for money. Of course since these activities are both mostly illegal I don't talk about this.
If I was a different type of guy I'd say I had cute rules like I won't hurt guys who ain't got it coming to 'em or that I don't hurt women. But the truth is; I do. Lots. And one guy, I don't name my clients: not to cops, and not to voyeurs. So this guy had him an ex wife who was putting the screws to him in divorce court and raking him for alimony and child payments. Now in this particular case I think the woman was a bitch and she was screwing him for money that wasn't going to the kids at all, not to mention jerking him around when it came to seeing his kids. How she got the judge to give her the kind of deal she got is a mystery to me. I woulda taken the job anyway, but I would enjoy it more this way.
So anyway I was supposed to hurt her; badly. The guy was tempted to have me explain to her why she should stop jerking him around but was afraid that might implicate him too much. So he ended up just wanting some satisfaction and revenge. Now one of my rules is I don't kill. I can't really explain why, I just don't. I'm a thug and not a killer; sue me.
So I was just gonna hurt this dame some. She was living in his old house, a big two floor, three bedroom thing in Seal Beach California. It was two blocks from the beach, a big gorgeous house where she lived with the two kids. Supposedly I wouldn't have to worry about the kids since she was constantly sending them to stay with her parents so she could have the house to herself and party. I say supposedly because clients have a way of being wrong about little stuff like potential witnesses.
The guy had given me a picture of this skirt, in case there were other skirts running around the house I guess. She had red hair, and a killer figure. Maybe that had influenced the judge. I mean in the picture she was wearing this tight green sweater and a black skirt slit up the thigh, just provocative as hell. I was getting a little excited at the thought of smacking her around.
I took a rag out of my pocket and tried the front door. It didn't open, but it felt like a spring lock. I took a dummy credit card out of my back pocket and jimmied the lock. It was awfully quiet for a party house but I heard a rhythmic new age music playing in the background. It sounded softly through the door but was probably turned pretty loud outside. I opened the door soundlessly, hey I'm pretty good at this by now, and let myself in. I closed the door behind me, and then locked it. Neighbours have an inconvenient way of wandering in at the worst time. I learned that my first time on the job and almost got put away because of it. I persuaded the guy not to call the cops...
Anyway, it was a long hallway filled with pictures and crap. I knew a fence who might have rated one of the pics pretty high, but I'm a thug not a thief. That one's not principle so much as professional pride.
So I hear this moaning coming from the end of the hallway, which turns out to be the living room when I peak my head around the corner. On this big black leather couch this guy is going down on this red headed dame while she's jamming her finger up his ass. There's this rhythmic new age shit thumping in the background and she's moaning like nobody's business. Her breasts, and believe me these are some serious breasts, are flopping around and it is awhile before I think to do anything more than stare.
About after a minute, I remember I am here on business. So I walk slowly up next to the guy, and they are so intent on what they are doing they don't even notice me. Of course the light is dim, and comes from the three or four scented candles burning, filling the room with the aroma of lavender and vanilla. One of my ex-girlfriends was in to candles and aroma therapy, so I can tell the difference between lavender and sandlewood; a fact which is sure to get me laughed at when I attend that meeting of thugs anonymous.
So irritated by this though I kick the guy hard in the sternum with the ball of my foot. Not the toe as I work barefoot and kicking some guy barefoot is a good way to break your toes. I feel a rib crack where I kick him, but oddly enough the guys facial expression doesn't change. And I swear he is still trying to lick her when I drive the palm of my hand into the back of his skull and douse his lights for what I expect will be more than necessary.
The gal opens her mouth to scream but I've wrapped my left arm around the back of her neck and covered her mouth with my hand so no sound comes out. This maneuver forces her in front of me slightly so I can feel her bare behind rubbing against the front of my jeans. I lower my hold so that her throat is in the crook of my elbow so that she can no more than whisper and let go my hand over her mouth. Again she tries to scream but only a choked cough comes out and I punch her hard in the side. This doubles her over while forcing her backside once more into prominent contact with the front of my jeans. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the feel of her firm, round bottom but I reminded myself again I was here on business.
"I'm not going to let you scream so don't try and this will go easier for both of us. I'm here to hurt you and I'm going to. Feel free to try and resist." I forced her up with my elbow in my throat. I allowed her to turn her face to me.
"Why?" she asked. "Why are you doing this to me?" This came out in an imploring whisper since my elbow still didn't allow much air through her vocal cords. With her body turned at this angle, and her being topless and all I could feel that soft breast pressed against my chest. This distracted me a bit and I heard myself answer which is a no no. "My employer paid me to." Not a bad slip up, but a slip up none the less.
"Who is your employer?" she whispered at me, and the hoarse voice was very breathy and sexy. I shook my head, I don't give out that kind of information.
"Well if you're going to hurt me" she breathed "I guess I shouldn't resist. I should just relax and let it happen shouldn't I?" Since she was asking me I nodded since that would probably be best for her.
Her head was turned and her lip quivered a bit. She raised her head, to hide it I thought, and I got a look at her eyes. They were bright and glistening, like maybe she had almost begun to cry. Very green and very sexy. Especially glinting in the candlelight.
"There's nothing I can do is there... so I should just relax and let it happen. No way to resist. I couldn't possibly overpower you, no way I could fight you so I should just give in. Just let you do what you want with me. Let you have your way with me. You're so strong, so powerful. So very, very powerful. I should just relax, relax, just relax. But I need to breathe and your elbow is so very tight, if you could just relax your arm so I could breathe."
I loosened my arm some so she could breathe. That seemed fair.
"And now it's easier for me to breathe in and out, and to relax. To just let it happen, not to resist. So hard to resist... so overpowering...so important just to relax...relax." She said in a very low whisper, her voice breathy and exciting. I could feel her large soft breast, nipple growing erect and pressing into my chest as I stared at her. The aroma of the candles was very pleasant, almost intoxicating. I felt so relaxed. Like I had just finished an exhausting workout and was sitting in a Jacuzzi, warm water jetting over me. Washing over me in waves like her voice.
"No need to worry... no way to stop things from happening. Can't resist... just need to relax... the way you're relaxed. And you are relaxed aren't you? So relaxed, just looking into my beautiful green eyes. My deep green eyes. My relaxing green eyes... so relaxing... let yourself relax. It's so easy to surrender... let yourself surrender... you can't resist. You are helpless to resist.... So helpless and relaxed. You could fight but it would be so hard... so much better to just let it happen... let yourself relax as you look into my beautiful green eyes. So relaxed. So very, very, very relaxed. You enjoy looking into my beautiful eyes, letting them draw you deeper and deeper...so deep... into the beautiful emerald depths. Breathe in deeply, draw the aroma of the candles deep into your lungs and relax. Relax. Your eyelids are so heavy now, so very heavy, so very very heavy. Let yourself relax. You can't resist, you know you can't resist."
Something was wrong. My eyelids were so heavy and I wasn't holding her at all. She could scream or call the cops... But I was so relaxed. Why worry. Whatever would happen was going to happen. I should just let it happen. So much better to relax. So much better just to let it happen... My eyelids were so heavy. It felt so nice. And she had such nice, pretty sexy green eyes. So beautiful. And she wanted me to close my eyes. So easy to relax for her. To listen to her sexy whisper. So heavy. My eyes are so heavy. Want to see her eyes though. Don't want to not see her eyes. Sooo tired though. Soooo tired. Sleep now. My eyes closed into the sweetest blackness I've ever known.
I drifted in blackness for awhile and I heard a wonderful voice give me instructions. For some reason these instructions made me very happy and I was very pleased to listen and obey them. I don't know why but it seemed to make sense for right now. Then I drifted back into the light and I saw the most amazing green eyed red head I've ever seen sitting in front of me. I don't know how I was dozing with her in the room. Then she asked me "Who sent you?"
Now you know I don't answer questions like that. And I opened my mouth to tell her that so I was very surprised to hear "Your ex husband." Did I say that?
Then she asks me "Who is your mistress?" And I think she means who am I dating currently so I try and remember and can't. I really can't remember any girl other than her right now. Which is okay as she is so beautiful. So why is my mouth opening and saying "You are my mistress. I obey only you." And why do I feel a warm glow when she smiles now. And she is smiling. My mistress is smiling. Suddenly my legs feel weak and there is this tingling sensation all through my body, groin and then my ass. I realize I feel this wonderful glow because I have pleased my mistress.
"You like my breasts don't you slave?" I tell her I love every part of my mistress. She smiles again, and I tingle all over. She allows me to suck on her nipples. I take in large mouthfuls of her breasts and bite slightly into her nipple. Gently I nip. She inhales softly. She takes my short hair in her hand and pushes my head down. I embed my head into her crotch. I slip my tongue into her and hear her moan. She lets me pleasure her there awhile then pulls my head up by my hair.
I take her thighs in my hands and squeeze. I knead her thighs as she arches her back towards me. She undoes my jeans with one hand as she rakes her nails down my back with the other. With my member free she embeds herself upon me. I feel the tight moistness on my shaft and thrust. Every stroke is fueled by the pleasure of knowing I am making her happy. The need to please her compels me more than my own pleasure. I press into her while lifting her hips with my hands.
Then I turn so I am on my back and she is riding me allowing my hands to roam over her luxurious breasts. They are bountiful and soft and when I let them go they hang over my face immersed in those soft mounds of flesh. Her scent intoxicates me as I breathe from the hollow of her cleavage. An orgasm is building inside me, I feel the heat build from my toes up to my crotch and I erupt inside her as I hear her moan in orgasm. The cries of my mistress are the sweetest sounds I've ever heard.
The guy is waiting with the other half of my money. We are supposed to meet at this liquor store a few miles from the beach. She walks by him and he stares at her. She isn't marked at all and I'd promised him at least a black eye. And why is she here?
I can see all these thoughts playing across his face as tries to hide his face behind a newspaper. I pull it away from him and throw it to the floor. He starts to throw a punch but I kick out his knee and falls to the floor. I hook my arms behind his elbow in a wrist lock and torque his shoulder till he cries in pain. I torque it further and force his face into the floor.
Now she walks over and lowers her beautiful face to his. "You've made a mistake. You should have just paid the money you owed me. Now, well, now I'm going to take your freedom too." And she looks into his eyes. I ease up on the hold so the pain isn't so intense that he can't hear what he's saying. I see his eyes start to glaze over. He doesn't deserve to know the pleasure of submitting to my lady but it's not my place to judge. I'm just a thug. Her thug. I liked the sound of that.