Chapter 9
Born to Suffer
After I'd convinced myself that the fat man couldn't possibly have killed Hidalgo, Gervis and the secretary, the rest was easy. Who stood to gain anything from the Hidalgo hit? And from the Gervis and Sokolow murders? The answer was starring me right in the face. Who was the only interested party still alive and kicking? ... Mrs. Cena Hidalgo!
Through her husband's untimely end she gained control of his multi-million dollar corporation. Through the death of "Wondaslick," she gained supremacy in the world cooking oil market. Through the murder of Rodney, she rid herself of a tiresome mount who'd outlived his usefulness as a source of information on the competition.
What I needed was some hard evidence to wave in her pretty face, something to rattle her composure. I spent the next fifteen hours rooting up everything I could get my hands on concerning Cena and Wondaslick. What I discovered totally blew my initial theory out the window, but it still added up to a quadruple murder.
I was packing a gun when I rang the Hidalgo doorbell and, though I was sure I was going to need it, I didn't like the way it felt under my arm. A dead weight.
"Jes?" the maid said, opening the door. Her standard cheery smile of greeting vanished when she realized who had come a-calling.
"Tell Cena I want to see her," I said, smirking at her sudden haughtiness.
"Cheese esspecting you," the maid said, gesturing for me to enter.
I was led to the library by that high, round bottom. Sweet memories flooded my mind. The flood receded when I saw Cena. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling bookcase dressed in a simple floor length quilted housecoat. On some women it could've looked downright frumpy. On Cena, with her deep cleavage narrow waist and round hips, it was devastating.
"What do you want, Mr. Grue?" she asked. Her voice was slightly strained.
When I stepped into the room, the doors closed behind me. Adrenalin pumping, I swung half around, clutching inside my jacket, drawing out the .45 caliber automatic. The dykes stood ready to jump, their backs to the doors. "Let's all take it real easy," I suggested.
The dykes leaned against the doors casually, as if they were entirely bored by the prospect of being crippled for life. Cena looked more concerned. "We're taking it easy, Mr. Grue," she said. "What is your business here?"
"You are my business, baby," I said, easing off the pistol's double safeties. "I know all about you and Wondaslick. The whole stinkin' mess..."
"Smart, Pudnuts," Twinky said sarcastically.
"Tell us what you think you know," Cena said, putting her hip up on the library desk.
I straightened up from my killing crouch, but kept the .45 swinging back and forth between the lesbos and Cena.
"You own the holding company that owns Wondaslick, Inc., " I told the wife of the late Cosimo Hidalgo. "Wondaslick was a hoax, a fraud. After you diverted all the company's assets into your bank account, you started selling stock. Selling worthless stock. You figured the S.E.C. would get wind of the rip-off eventually, so you planned your escape route in advance. The collapse of Wondaslick had been in the works from the very start, right down to the batch of contaminated aerosol sprays. There were some minor stumbling blocks along the way, but you and your home goon squad weren't above a little rough stuff in the name of the cause. Whoever wouldn't get out of your way, you had murdered. To my reckoning, the count is four..."
Cena smiled at me dazzingly. Something moved. I snapped the automatic to the right, finger already squeezing the trigger. I let up the pressure fast when I saw Wanda with a sawed off shotgun. She wasn't aiming it at me. She had it against her plush hip and pointed at the closet door two feet from the couble barreled snout of a muzzle.
"How would you like to make that count five?" Cena asked, fingering the lapel of her robe.
"Huh?"
"There's double ought buckshot in that gun, Mr. Grue. And a friend of yours is in the closet..."
"What?! Who?" I demanded, knuckles whitening as I gripped the pistol hard.
"Say something, darling," Cena ordered.
"Bascom?" came the weak voiced reply through the closet door. "It's me, Marylou Lee..."
"Jeeez...." I groaned.
"Put the gun down on the desk, or Wanda will cut that beautiful child in half," the statuesque blonde promised.
I put the gun down. Cena picked it up and ejected a shell out onto the carpet ... to make sure there was a live round under the firing pin.
"Let the little cunt out," Cena told Wanda.
Wanda opened the door and dragged out a tightly bound Marylou. The terrified girl was clad only in a peach-colored push-up bra and bikini panties. The confining ropes about her slim and dimple arms and waist cut deeply into her flesh, making the skin pucker and dimple around the bonds.
The big dyke was more than a little careless where her hand fell. She ran it down the buttons of Marylou's spine and into the seat of her lacey panties. Her middle finger disappeared into the tight cleft while her other fingers groped the girl's plump ass-cheeks.
"OH! Stop it!" Marylou complained, jumping away from the dyke's probing finger. "That hurt!! "
"Aww, shame, shame," Twinky chided Wanda, making tsk-tsk noises and shaking a finger at her.
Wanda just sniffed her middle finger and smiled lewdly.
"You ... you ... perverts," Marylou admonished the dykes and came running over to me. All her wonderfully nubile attributes jounced as she ran. "Do something, Bascom!" she said.
"Oh, he will," Cena answered for me. She had the heavy pistol aimed for a non-killing shot. "He will die very slowly before your eyes, dear."
"You'll never get away with it," I said. The hollowness of my words gave me the creeps.
"I think we will," Cena said. "But first, I'd like to see you very tightly bound..."
At the feel of the dykes' hands on me, I instinctively began to struggle.
"No ... no ... no..." Cena said, lowering the muzzle of the gun, centering the sights on my crotch.
Looking at that deadly piece of machinery pointed at my manhood, I swear my gut felt like I was on a runaway elevator going down, down, down. I let the dykes hold me.
"Hope you like the rope," Twinky chirped. "It's special stuff made to de-ball baby bulls. Uhng! Nice and tight, Pudnuts."
It was a plastic cord, woven but with thousands of loose fibers that cut like razor blades. I winced as Wanda used her foot to cinch down the knot. De-ball bulls! The stuff didn't stretch at all. It cut into my flesh and muscle, cutting off the circulation to my hands, rasping against my bones.
"Don't he look sweet?" Twinky exclaimed, when my arms were trussed up behind my back. "Just like a Thanksgiving turkey."
"Maybe we should stuff him?" Wanda growled behind me.
Something hard and cold slipped up the inside of my thigh. Again I got the sinking, out of control elevator feeling. She nudged my balls with the sawed off shotgun. Then she jammed it into my ass, pinning me against the edge of the desk. "Like this?" Huh? Huh?" she snarled.
"Easy, Wanda!" Cena said. "That comes later.
First of all, I have a little job for the man to do. An investigation in-depth...."
Wanda removed the muzzle from my ass-hole and backed off. I breathed a sigh of relief. I should've saved my breath.
"Girls, don't you think the man should be kneeling in the presence of his queen?" Cena said.
The twin dykes leered at each other. Then they tried to jerk me off my feet, to throw me to my knees. like an idiot, I didn't go down.
"KNEEL!! ! " Cena commanded.
"Down! You bastard!" Wanda spat in my face, lasing Out with her wooden shoe, landing an excruciatingly painful kick on my shin.
"Yeah, DOWN!" Twinky echoed, gleefully, flailing out with her hard toed show.
My legs went white hot with the pain and I tried to go to my knees, but the sadistic lesbos were holding me up so they could kick the shit out of me.
"Down!" they kept shouting, all the while keeping me from doing their bidding, and kicking, kicking until I passed out from the pain.
It was only for a second. I woke up with a start when my knees slammed into the floor. God! Waves of fire crackled over my calves and shins.
"That's better," Cena said. "Now about the investigation..."
The foxy blonde slipped off the desk and walked over in front of me; my gun dangling from her small hand.
"NO!" Marylou wailed. "Don't kill him!! "
Cena snapped, "Shut her up!"
Behind me there was a smacking sound and a whimper.
Cena stood right in front of me and untied the sash of her long robe. I watched through eyes slitted by pain as she let the coat slip from her shoulders. Despite my agony, my eyes popped open wide. The lovely blonde was in full sado-drag under the housecoat. She had on those tall, spiked heel boots she'd worn at the motel. They came up to the middle of her sleek white thighs. The only other thing she was wearing was a tight-fitting black cut-out bra that squeezed her full tits, compressed them, making the domes of soft pink, her nipples, jut out far from the white globes.
My gaze dropped to the wide hips, flat belly and well-upholstered mound in front of my nose. Her hummock was covered with wispy curls of platinum hair that formed a wild, spiraling cowlick at the top of her slit. My mouth began to water uncontrollably as I looked lower. Below the fat mons, I could see the apex of a double pair of incredibly pale pastel pink lips. They seemed to pout from the silky ellipse of hairs that surrounded them. I could see a tiny pink nubbin of flesh nestled in the tight peak of her cunt mouth, her tender clit. And underneath, down where her slot tapered in again, where the platinum fuzz grew longer and thicker, I could see the mysterious dark crack of her ass and her firm buttocks.
"You're drooling, Mr. Grue," Cena said huskily, shifting her weight from long leg to long leg, from stiletto heel to stiletto heel, making her pudgy cunt lips slide over each other sexily.
I wasn't really drooling, but slobber kept filling my mouth. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her cunt.
"Can you guess what I want investigated?" Cena asked, taking a step to the side with either foot, spreading her legs, and rotating her pelvis. Her soft pussy fuzz tickled my forehead and I got a strong whiff of her pussy. It was keen and foxy under the heavy dowsing of Chanel. It made my dick throb and stiffen in my pants.
"You know what I want!" Cena said. "Come on! Do me!" She held her velvety mound against my forehead. The hairs made my skin quiver and jump. The bridge of my nose lay upon the hot peak of her cunt and her pink lips brushed the tip. I could see nothing but her pussy, smell nothing but her pussy, feel nothing but her pussy. And with all my soul I wanted to eat nothing but her pussy, but I held back.
She gyrated, bumping her slot into my lips. The mouth of her sex was so soft and silky, so foxy fragrant and hot, and the kiss of her pussy lips upon mine so compelling that I almost lost my cool. My tongue, as if it had a will of its own, started to flick out, just as she drew back.
She glowered at me. "Worm!" she shouted. "Make the worm kneel lower!"
The dykes gripped my neck and bore down. I could not resist all their combined weight. They held me still while Cena opened knees wider and hunkered down.
I could see her whole crotch then. How the pink drapes were gathered at the bottom of her box ... how the blonde pubes around her hole glistened with dew ... how her pink ass-hole flexed between the full ass-cheeks.
Then she lifted the gun. She pressed the icy cold muzzle into my eye. My hard on disappeared.
"Be careful," I said through clenched teeth. "That pistol has a hair trigger..."
"So does my cunt, Worm!" she growled, grinding the barrel into my eyeball, the nasty ramp sight into my eyebrow. "Cut the crap and get down to business!! "
I let my mouth drop open, wanting so much to eat her box and hating myself for being such a weak willed sonofabitch. She looked at my parted lips, edging forward, still holding the gun jammed into my eye. I was craning my neck, looking up at her face over the fuzz of her cunt, over the heaving smooth belly, over the protruding tits in their black sheaths.
"Come on, Mr. Grue," she said. "Let's see some tongue."
My tongue snaked out and I waggled it for her. The pressure on my eye lightened and her hips moved forward. The downy pubes brushed my nose and mouth, and I kneeled in the shadow of her snatch.
The scent once more sent my cock pulsing in my shorts, and when her cunt lips touched the broad blade of my tongue, when the tangy, cinnamon and civet taste of her pussy exploded into my taste buds, my prick sprang up into rock rigid life.
"Mmmmmmmuch better," Cena said, straddling my face and getting into primo mouth fuck position. Her fat pussy smooched my nose, lips, the tip of my tongue. Her smooth thighs rustled about my ears as her hips rocked rhythmically, bumping her slot into my open mouth.
I was a captive, a prisoner, a slave locked in the sleek prison of her thighs, pussy and butt. A high fever rising in my cheeks, I gave her a long, hole to clit slurp.
"Oooooooh!" she moaned above the whisses of thighs.
At the gentle touch of my tongue, her slot parted, outer lips gave way to slick inner ones, which in turn opened onto slippery soft sex membrane. By the time my tongue reached the nub of her sexuality, her entire cunt hung open, pink drapes gaped, a rush of slick, translucent goo trickled into the ring of hairs.
Gulping my own drool, I pressed my tongue into her clit, rasping it about in wet circles, making rough contact with the pebbly surface of my tongue.
"Uhhhhhh!" she whined as her nub rose, swelling into a hard little tidbit. And her legs seemed to go to butter for a second, dropping her weight onto my face.
"Suck that cunt!" Twinky shouted.
I drew the stiff nodule into my mouth and rolled it between my teeth. The silky crotch mashed into my face. I sucked her clit deep in my mouth, taking with it the entire peak of moist flesh at the top of her cunt. Sucking and slurping, I made her clit fly in and out of my mouth.
"Yessssss," she hissed, and I felt her soft hands on my neck.
I gobbled clit, relishing the new eagerness in the thighs clamped about my head. The smell of pussy and perfume was no longer overpowering ... diluted as it was with the smell of my own slobber.
The pale cowlick at the top of her cunt was drenched in drool and plastered against the swelling apex.
"Uhhh! Uhhh!" Cena grunted, lifting a long leg, giving me access to her hot pussy.
I needed no words of encouragement this time, no threats at gunpoint. I lashed my tongue over the hanging folds, sucking up the funky nectar that clung to every hair, to every wrinkle.
"He's a real cunt-lapper!! ! " Wanda exclaimed.
"OOOOOOH! OOOOOOH!" Cena wailed, as I squirmed lower, drawing insane circles about the base of her lips, about the very entrance to her cunt.
The pink drapes were all puffed out at the bottom where they blended into the smooth skin between cunt and ass-hole. I tickled them, teased them with the tip of my tongue, and was nearly overwhelmed by a gush of hot juice. No longer was the smell diluted by my drool, or by perfume. The lubricant that flew into my mouth, ran over my face, up my nose, was fresh from the fountain, sizzling hot and stinky. It gave off a bitch-in-heat smell that sent gobs of pre-come dreaming into my shorts.
Swallowing like a maniac to keep from choking, I tentatively inserted the tip of my tongue into the puffy orifice. Jeeeez! Her cunt was a real barn burner, a funky little oven that longed to bake anything longer than it was wide.
I didn't have much time to speculate on romantic imagery. With an "Ooooooomph!" the blonde bitch dropped her cunt down on my tongue, sending it shooting into her snatch.
"Ahhhh-Ahhhhh!" she cooed, hips flipping automatically at the feel of tongue up her cunt.
My tongue flew past the swollen entrance and delved deep into her fragrant fuck maw. The puffy hole squished into my lips as I explored her tube. Searing heat engulfed my open mouth as another load of juice gushed forth. Then my tongue was flipping, greedily feeling the slick lining of her pussy, lashing over every wrinkle and fold, mapping her cunt for posterity.
Her ass went wild and my chin was punched again and again by silky soft fists. The stray pubes that ringed the bottom of her cunt stuck to my lips as I face fucked her; they clung to my mouth, tickling me. Wincing from the weight she brought down on my upturned neck, I sucked cunt. Her lips hung out over my face, trailing goo everywhere, devouring my nose. I sucked cunt hard.
"YEEEEEE!" she whimpered, as I put some teeth into the job, drawing her round hole in and out of my mouth with rapid pumps of suction, while thrusting my tongue high into her pussy.
Suck and thrust, suck and thrust. The rhythm was simple, the dance of mouth and pussy a moronic two-step. But the steady penetration, the monotonous mumbling got to her, became a humming droning bee inside her skull. Her hip thrusts grew shaky, almost spastic. And the next thing I knew, her pussy was sucking the life out of my tongue, rippling with excitement.
I fought to keep time with her lunges, to keep my tongue sliding in and out of her box, to keep from being battered to death by her flapping cunt lips.
God! Her pussy mauled my tongue, yanking it hard by the roots, making me taste even deeper into her body. Her spiked boot made a painful furrow down the center of my back as she threw a leg over my shoulder, as she forced her cunt to give up my flipping tongue.
"S-s-soon ... so . .s-s-soon," she wheezed, stretching out her leg, making my tongue slide over the slick band of skin between cunt and ass-hole, making her ass-hole zero in on my mouth.
She was stretching out something else beside her leg ... her pleasure. Teasing herself, denying herself the release she knew my tongue could give her.
When the soft buns parted and nuzzled into my cheeks, the pore puckered, pursing like a dainty pink mouth. I sucked the entire wrinkled sphincter into my mouth and shoved my tongue into its tight center. like a flower opening, the hole gave way, at first passive and yielding, then as more and more tongue slipped inside, it began to suck me in, squeezing hard. I must've whimpered aloud at the pain because over the rise and fall of her buns, the hissing slurps of her butt hole, I heard Cena laugh. And the convulsions of merriment rippled through her lithe body, terminating in the violent, flexing spasms of her sphincter about my tongue. I yelled in earnest then and it aroused her all the more.
The ass-hole slithered from around my waggling tongue and Cena paused, panting, "N-NOW!! ! FINISH IT!! ! " she commanded, giving me back her oozing oven.
I gobbled it like a starving man, shaking my head from side to side as I ate her. I was ravenous. My dick was so hard I was afraid it would go into blue balls, but I wouldn't stop.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEE!! ! ! " she howled, hips flying into my face, cuntmouth smacking sloppily on my lips.
Her tube convulsed about my tongue like a buttered velvet fist, milking me in long powerful seizures. I could not move or cry out, so tightly was I trapped inside her. All I could do was kneel there and let her ride my face into slippery oblivion, her cunt sputtering its joy over my mouth.