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Friday, January 8, 2016

Penultimate Hustle: L.A. - Chapter 18

Chapter 18 – Submission

Chris closed the door behind him and let the girls rest. Janique could endure anything, for any length of time, but when it was over, she needed to sleep. Kiki, he was sure, was also exhausted. He hoped they hadn't left any lasting marks on her. No amount of hot sex was worth interfering with her relationship with Brad. And when it came down to it, Brad was far more more important to Ultimate Hustle.
For the first time since he had met Janique, he felt a tinge of loneliness. Even in jail, he hadn't missed her as much as he did at that moment. It was silly, he realized. She was just down the hall.
He first peeked in a sleeping Dulce, and she was still on her couch, thumb in mouth. Janice made a shooing gesture, and he closed the door again.
That was when he understood how having children would further alter his relationship with Janique. It was a bittersweet feeling approaching genuine sadness. He decided that, change or not, it would make her happier. He would be happier by extension.
Or at least he hoped so.
He wandered the halls for a time, and experienced a queer sensation of being watched. It was an odd feeling, as though he was a character in a movie. Or a book. The phrase “Cure For Sanity” entered his mind, and he dismissed it.
Chris checked on the work going on in the kitchen and bathroom, and suddenly felt the urge to put on a toolbelt and work with the other construction hands.
It was funny, he mused. Everyone wanted money and leisure, but had no idea of what that was really like. He knew those workers were probably much more content than he was. He knew he needed a higher purpose. Perhaps becoming a father would be it. At any rate, it was time for him to get back to poetry and writing. Chris had promises to keep.
He almost went to see Brad and Leo, but heard the laughter of the girls through the door and thought better of it. Janice seemed to have a good handle on things, scribbling and typing away at whatever literary masterpiece she was working on, whenever she had a spare moment. It was admirable how happy she seemed to be on her own.
He grabbed his worn copy of “Hitchhiker's Guide”, and retired to his couch to read. As he began, Chris wiped away a solitary tear.
An hour or so later, Dulce walked in, followed discretely by Janice, and climbed into his lap. He nodded briefly, and Janice returned to her own office. She listened to him read for a while, and then said, “hungy”. It was a semi-precious moment. He held her in one arm as he made her a half of a ham sandwich and milk, with a few Oreos for dessert.
After she had eaten, the girls came from Brad's office, giggling and discussing the casting call.
“Mama”, Dulce said, running to Maria with her arms raised.
Chris was both relieved and a little saddened. It was at that moment that he decided that he was ready to have kids. A boy and a girl would be just perfect. Someone to pass his legacy on to. Working just to further he and Janique's personal interests alone was already starting to feel a bit empty.
“I'm here to see Chris and Janique,” a familiar voice said from the hall.
Chris walked out to greet him, excited to see an old friend. Broad smiles appeared on both of their faces at the sight of each other. He issued a lengthy greeting in Japanese.
“Please. We're in America now,” Akira laughed. “Speak Spanish.”
He was wearing engineer boots, black jeans with a bullet belt, and a t-shirt that said, “Razor – Forward to Termination”. Accompanying him was a most exquisite and delicate geisha. She was authentically attired, down to her sandals. Her face was immaculately painted, and she wore the thinnest of silk gowns.
Chris was instantly interested in having her.
“This is Yumi,” Akira said. “She's my new sociological experiment. And by that, I mean wife.”
“Hello, Yumi...”
“She doesn't speak English. She's not even allowed to learn it. Or speak unless I tell her to.”
Her eyes never left the floor.
“She's amazing. Wow. Just wow,” Chris said.
“She is the perfect Japanese wife,” Akira said. “I trained her myself from virginity onward. She's the happiest girl in the world.”
“You'd never know that from looking at her.”
She looked so frightened and vulnerable. A complete turn on.
“Can I...” Chris asked.
“Of course! What's mine is yours. In fact, Janique and I already discussed it. “
He switched on the cameras.
Akira issued a command in Japanese, and Yumi dropped to all fours in the carpeted hallway.
“Arf, arf!” she said.
Not only did she act like a puppy, Chris got the impression that she actually thought she was. It was incredibly hot. Her kimono rode up, confirming what he suspected. She was naked and bare underneath it. Her pale skin indicated it had never seen the sun.
His cock was already starting to swell.
He got his keys and opened the door to the dungeon. Akira dragged Yumi by hair, as she whimpered and cried. When they all saw what was inside, she let out an inspired cry of fear.
To Chris, the only thing scarier than that room was a jail cell. The rough=hewn rock walls were lined with unlit torches and manacles for chaining people up. To the left was an iron cage, just big enough for two people. On the wall connected to the bedroom was a full-sized rack for stretching people.
But it was the attention to detail that really made it impressive. Water dripped down the walls from the ceiling, both of which were stained with what looked like real blood. Bones littered the floor, and they appeared to be real, as well. Hanging from hooks near the door was a collection of whips, paddles, and metal torture devices.
There were no gags. It was a room for screaming.
One empty area on the floor made him wonder what was coming next, as it seemed clear that something was missing.
Reading his mind, Akira threw up the horns, and said, “Where's the iron maiden?”
He kicked Yumi in the ass, forcing her to crawl. Once Chris closed the door, it disappeared, reminding him of the entrance to the love nest they'd built in prison.. He couldn't imagine how hard the floor was on her knees.
“So, how are things?” Akira asked casually, as he yanked her upright by the hair.
“They're going really well.”
Chris ripped her kimono off, and drank in her full splendor. Then he slapped her across her tits, the loud smacking sound reverberating off of the walls. She began sobbing again, and begging for mercy in Japanese.
“It seems like it. You're paying me really well.”
Akira slapped her across the face for talking without permission.
“You're a great photographer. You know Janique wants the best. So do I, of course.”
Chris grabbed one of her nipples and forced her over to the shackles. “We could pay her, too.”
“She's not allowed to touch money. She's my pet.”
He pushed her hard against the wall, the sharp stone protrusions cutting into her back. Yumi's make-up was smeared and running from her tears, but she had ceased protesting. Still, her eyes never met theirs.
“She's so beautiful,” Chris said, and locked her wrists in the chains above her head.
“I think so. But you know what my friend Merzbow says? 'Bondage is not about vagina. Bondage is about pain in face'.”
“That's heavy,”
Chris slapped the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs, which increased the weight her arms were supporting. He soon found out how hard the floor actually was when he knelt down and lifted her by both legs, placing them on his shoulders.
Yumi was yummy, he thought. Her pussy tasted sweet like some exotic Japanese fruit. Her put his fingers in her and ate her for several minutes until his cock was hard, and she had a silent but considerable orgasm. Her make-up was running so bad, it dripped onto her tits.
Chris dropped her legs, putting the weight back on her wrists. He stood back and studied her for a moment. For the first time, she spied his mammoth erection, and then her eyes finally met his, filled with a combination of fear, lust, and admiration.
He noticed that the shackles were adjustable, and set about lengthening one, as Akira helped with the other. Yumi realized what was going to happen, and started shaking her head and crying. She was either a great actress, or genuinely fearful. Either scenario made for great film-making.
When her chains were adjusted, Akira turned her to face the wall, causing her arms to cross each other over her head. He slapped her ass, said a single sharp word, and she adopted a wide stance.
Chris leaned over and spat a glob of saliva onto her pink, hairless asshole. With no fanfare, he shoved the length of himself inside of her, eliciting an animalistic howl of pain. As he pumped in and out of her, Akira grabbed her legs and placed each foot flat against the wall. Amazingly, she stayed put, hanging like a monkey, and pushing backward against him as best she could.
It was a display of prowess that Chris found captivating. Even Janique had never pulled off such a maneuver. He pushed himself into her ass extra hard a few times, and unloaded his cum for the second time that day.
When he pulled out, Yumi spun around and dropped to her feet on her own, facing him. Then she pushed his cum out of her ass with a few wet farting sounds, laughing as it spattered onto the ground, mocking him.
Chris put his clothes back on, and then moved to release her.
“Leave her for a while,” Akira said. “She's a real brat.” He kissed her forehead, and they went to Chris's office to catch up.
Eventually, Janique and Kiki work up, kissed, and parted ways, going to their respective rooms with smiles on their faces.
The look of surprise on her face when Janique say Akira was priceless. They spoke in Japanese for several minutes, until she asked about Yumi, and the conversation switched to English.
“Akira Mfune! You go get her this instant!”
Duly chastised, he jumped up and retrieved her. Upon their return, Yumi played the situation up to the hilt, ignoring Akira's rules and protesting her treatment, safe in the confines of Janique's protection.
It was an act, of course. A game they all played. Janique took on the role of concerned mother, cuddling the naked girl on the couch, stroking her hair to soothe her.
Chris and Akira ignored the display, having had their fun, and discussed the prospects of having a cutting-edge music project. At some point, Melvin knocked on the door and walked in.
“Surprise!” he said, and Chris and Janique both what he meant by that, until Tokio walked in behind him on crutches.
“Look at this pretty motherfucker right here,” he said.
Janique shoved Yumi off of her onto the couch, and ran to embrace him.
“Oh, stop,” she said.
“Shit. I was talking about him,” he said, indicating Chris. “I've been down so long, it'll take me a while to adjust.”
She laughed. “Come on. I'll fix that right now.”
She pushed him back out of the room, and evicted the girls from their room without explanation.
Twenty minutes later, she emerged.
“Girls, that's Tokio. The founder of Ultimate Hustle. When he wakes up, fuck him again until he passes out.”
All four went in to wait and pounce.
Melvin waited until she returned to explain the situation.
“He's released pending the results of the retrial. But we've already won most of the battle getting that far.”
“Prognosis?” Janique asked.
“Things look better than ever. Toke ain't goin' back to prison. I'd stake my career on it.”
“You'd better bet your life...”
He nodded, staring into the empty sockets of Hazel's skull.