Message-ID: <53750asstr$1146402602@assm.asstr.org>
From: "jack" <jack2298@charter.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Rick, the Dick  Desert Rose case (wife voy ir m+)
Lines: 1976
Date: Sun, 30 Apr 2006 09:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Rick, the Dick, The Desert Rose case

   Shooter3704

   Part one

   The first time I laid eyes on him he was whaling the hell out of some
poor bastard.  They were in the alley behind the Desert Rose strip club. 
Arnold Billings was using a piece of iron pipe about two feet long and an
inch in diameter.  I had ducked in the alley to take a leak.  The beer
served at the Desert Rose just ran right through me and the Rose has the
nastiest restrooms in the country.  I always use the alley because it's
cleaner.

   Arnie stopped thumping the black man when he realized he had an
audience.

   "Who are you?" he snapped.

   "You must be mighty pissed off at that dude," I observed.

   "I am.  You a friend of his?"

   "No, I don't think I know the man."

   "Then go away and let me get on with it."

   "Yeah, about that," I said going closer to look at the victim.  "You
know the cops are going to get real pissy if you kill him, don't you?"

   "What, he ain't dead yet?" He looked genuinely surprised that the man
was still alive.

   "No, there's still some life left in him.  Not much, but enough to stop
it from being murder one."

   "You a cop?" He took a better grip on the pipe.

   "No, I'm private investigator.  Why don't you call it a night for this
guy and let's go get a cold beer." Arnie gave that suggestion some thought
and then threw the pipe down.

   "Hey, Buddy," I said.  "None of my business, but were you ever in the
service?"

   "Yeah, Navy.  Why?" He had started out of the alley.

   "No big deal, but your fingerprints are on file." He looked confused. 
"The pipe," I said.  "Your prints?" He caught on and wiped the handle of
his club clean with his shirt tail, careful to avoid the bloody end.

   I took another look at the bloody black man laying in the alley.  His
head was a mess, but he was still breathing.  I caught up with the man I
would later find out was Arnie.  I stuck my head in the entrance of the
Desert Rose long enough to tell the bouncer that there was a man in the
alley and that he needed some medical attention.  The bouncer knew me, but
I knew he wasn't going to tell anybody my name.

   Some might call what I did obstructing justice.  Maybe so, but I've
discovered there is justice and then there's justice.  Besides, I would
find out all about Arnie and if push came to shove I could always trade him
for some favors with the cops.  Also, I just knew there had to be one hell
of a story in there somewhere and I do love a good story.

   "So tell me, Arnie," I said after the introductions.  I told him I was
Rick Short.  "You have a good reason to rearrange that guys head?"

   "He fucked my wife," Arnie answered shortly.

   "Rape?" He shook his head.

   "No, she let him," he said, looking miserable.  "Partly my fault.  I
guess, but he had to pay."

   "Yeah, I guess.  Did you think that maybe you were whipping-up on the
wrong person?"

   "Can't whip my wife's ass.  Can't whip my own ass.  That just left him."
That logic defied argument, but there were a few holes in it.

   "Who is he?" I asked.  In the light of the bar I could see that Arnie
was a pleasant looking guy.  Maybe thirty or so with sandy colored hair
that was receding.  He'd be bald in a few more years.

   "Mark Bigalow is the name he used.  Maybe it's his real name, but I
don't know."

   "When did he fuck your wife?  I mean how long ago?"

   "First time was a couple months back.  They been coming around while I
was at work since then.  Him and some of his friends.  Hey, you're a PI. 
Maybe you can help me find Blackbird."

   "Blackbird?  What's the hell is Blackbird?"

   "He's the leader.  He's the prick that got it started and I'm looking
for his ass.  Can you help me?"

   "So you can bash his head in, too?  I don't think so, Arnie.  You seem
like a nice guy, but you keep up this revenge shit and you're going to get
caught.  You'll end up in prison being some big black dudes wife .  Why
don't you go on home and forget about it.  You beat the hell out of one
guy, let that be enough." He didn't comment.

   I bought him another beer.  We talked a while and then he thanked me and
left.  Later I drifted back down to the Desert Rose to see what was going
on there.  They had hauled Mark Bigalow off in an ambulance, apparently
still alive, but the detectives were still there.  I recognized a couple of
them from my days on the force.  No cop shouted it, but I moved along
because there was nothing to see.

   ***

   "I found your card in my husband's pocket," she said.  She said she was
Annabelle Billings.  It took me a minute to make the connection.  It had
been two weeks since I met Arnie Billings in the alley.  "I want to hire
you," she added.

   "To do what?"

   "I'm being stalked," she answered taking the client chair I offered her.

   "Call the cops," I said.  "That's what they do and they're pretty good
at it.  That won't cost you a dime.  I'm expensive."

   "I have money and I can't go to the police.  It's.complicated.  Can you
help?"

   "I don't know if I can or not.  Tell me your story and we'll see."

   ***

   Arnie and I have been married nearly four years.  We met in college,
dated almost a year and got married.  We moved here right after the wedding
because Arnie had a good job offer.  Arnie is a real nice man.  He's kind
and considerate and I know he loves me.  I don't know exactly where things
went wrong.  I guess it started with Arnie's photography.  He a real good
photographer.  It's his hobby.

   We hadn't been married very long when he talked me in to posing for him.
You know, wearing lingerie and swim suits.  That sort of thing.  That
progressed to topless and then into full nudes.  He told me that nobody
would ever see them, so I did as he asked.  I mean I have a nice figure and
all, so why not?  Besides it was fun and it always turned us on.

   At first Arnie used film and last year he bought a real expensive
digital camera.  Truthfully, I felt better with the digital stuff because
there weren't any real photos or negatives around.  You know what I mean?

   Arnie had me pose for him doing things.masturbating and that sort of
stuff.  Arnie sometimes would use a timer and we made some action shots. 
You know, me and him.together.  I've read where a lot of married couple do
that.

   I had no idea that Arnie was sharing the pictures with people on line.
When I found out I was really upset.  I didn't say a word to him for a
week, but I finally got over being mad at him.

   I asked him who all had seen my photos and he told me there was only
five or six people in his chat-room.  I didn't even know what a chat-room
was.  Arnie showed me how to used the computer and I got on line.  Mostly
to see what the attraction was.

   What I saw blew my mind.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing there. 
Couples of all sizes, shapes and age had posted pictures of them
doing.well, everything.  I had a lot of spare time because Arnie didn't
want me working.  I spent a lot of it on the computer.

   One day I was surfing and ran across a site that was advertised as the
place for lovers.  It had a lot of video clips, pictures, and stories. 
Some of the so-called true stories made my hair stand on end.  Also I'll
admit they were hot and got me excited.  A couple of time I nearly attacked
Arnie when he came home from work.  Not that he minded it.

   ***

   "Go on Mrs.  Billings," I said after she fell quiet for a while.  "I'm
still listening."

   "I don't know where to go from here," she said tears coursing down her
face.  "This is the part where I messed up big time." I waited for her to
calm down.

   ***

   Arnie showed me where he had my pictures stored on the computer.  They
all were there.  Fully clothes, swimsuits, topless, and full nudes.  The
really dirty ones were there also, but in a separate file.

   One afternoon I was playing around on the computer and got into a
chat-room.  I chatted with a lot of people, but one seemed really
interesting.  His screen name was Blackbird.  I teased Blackbird a lot over
the next few days.  I guess I sounded like a real slut, but I was only
fooling around with him.  At least at the beginning.  After about a week we
got out of the chat-room and used e-mail to communicate.  After that we
would use the instant message thing.  I knew he was a black man.  He told
me that right at the beginning.  I'm not a racist, so that didn't make any
difference to me.

   I wasn't sneaking around, mind you.  I told Arnie everything Blackbird
and I talked about.  He was fine with it.  I told him that Blackbird had
ask for a picture of me and Arnie told me to send him one.  I picked out
one with me wearing a bikini.  It was sexy, but not risqué.

   Blackbird must have liked it because he asked me for some more.  I sent
a couple more similar to the first one.  I soon ran out of that kind of
photos and I sent him one where I was topless but had my hands over my
breasts.  I worried what Arnie would think, but he was fine with it.  He
just laughed when he read Blackbird's response.

   "You got him all excited, Ann.  What does he look like?" I told Arnie I
didn't know and I immediately asked Blackbird to send me a photo.

   He did and I was surprised at how he looked.  Big and mean looking.  He
had scars all over his face.  Later he sent me one that showed him
bare-chested.  He had a bunch of scars on his chest, also.  I asked him
about the scars and he told me they were the product of a misspent youth.

   Over the next couple of weeks I sent him a couple topless photos because
Arnie wanted me to.  I'm proud of my breasts and since Blackbird didn't
know anything about me, I thought why not?

   Blackbird sent me a picture of him naked.  I nearly passed out from
shock.  He was holding the biggest penis I had ever seen.  At least twice
as big as Arnie.  I showed it to Arnie and he got a kick out of it.  He
told me that Blackbird had enhanced the photo.  When I asked Blackbird
about it he said there had been no retouching and that it was all him.

   I thought it was time to cool it with Blackbird, so for a few days I
stayed off the internet.  Unfortunately I didn't stop thinking about the
photo of his big penis.  When I got back on the computer there were a dozen
messages from him.  He sounded so sad, I felt bad about ignoring him.  To
make it up to him I sent him a full nude.  It didn't show much because I
was laying down on the rug.  At least that was what I intended to do.

   Somehow I hit the wrong button and I sent him the whole file of the real
hot photos.  The ones that didn't leave anything to the imagination.  Me
with dildos, fruits, and vegetables.  The ones of me and Arnie doing the
nasty.  I didn't realize what I had done until later that night.

   "Ann, get in here!" Arnie yelled at me.  "What the fuck is going on?" He
was pointing at the computer screen and a photo of me, legs spread wide and
playing with myself.  I recognized the picture even thought my face was
blocked.  I was flabbergasted.

   "What the fuck did you do?" Arnie demanded, yelling at the top of his
lungs.  I told him I hadn't sent that photo out.  I really thought I
hadn't.

   Arnie found five or six other photos of me on various sites, but they
all had the face fuzzed or somehow messed up.  I was devastated.  Arnie
figured out somehow what had happened and he was very angry at me.  He
didn't calm down for a couple of days.

   I checked the e-mail and IM several times every day over the next
several days.  Nothing from Blackbird.  I was beginning to think we had
dodged the bullet.  After all my face wasn't recognizable in any of the
photos.  Then the other shoe dropped.  I got an e-mail from Blackbird.

   "Give me a phone number," it said.  "We need to talk." I wrote him back
and told him I couldn't do that.  He sent one right back.  "Yes, you can.
Unless you want your face and cunt all over the internet you will.  By
tomorrow noon."

   By the time Arnie got home I was a nervous wreck.  I showed him the
e-mail and he went white as a sheet.  He screamed and cursed like I never
heard him do before.

   "Give him your cell number," he said when he finally calmed down.  "He
can't trace it.  Find out what he wants not to put your photos on the net."

   I sent my cell number and waited for a call.  Nothing that day or the
next day or that weekend.  On Monday Arnie had to go out of town.  He
travels to Chicago and New York a couple times a year.  I got the call on
Tuesday about ten o'clock in the morning.

   "How's it going, Bittybird?" he asked.  Bittybird was my screen name.  A
play on his name and the fact that I'm kind of small.  I had given a lot of
though about how to act with him.  Pissed, calm, nice, or what?  I decided
on nice.

   "I'm upset, Blackbird," I answered honestly.  "I sent you those pictures
by accident."

   "Yeah, I figured that out," he said with a laugh.  "Fuckin' made my day,
anyway.  You are one hot momma."

   "Thank you," I said feeling my face flush.  "It would be terribly
embarrassing for those pictures to get out."

   "Yeah, I'll bet.  I guess it would really fuck you and hubby up big
time, wouldn't it?  Probably get his ass fired, huh?" I told him I didn't
think it would be that bad.  "Sure as hell wouldn't help, would it?" he
said laughing again.  I didn't answer, but I knew if Arnie's employer found
out they would fire him for sure.  They are a straight-lace bunch.

   "What will it take to keep them out of the public?" I asked.  I didn't
feel like fencing with him.

   "Twenty grand," he said.  I was shocked.  We didn't have that kind of
money laying around.  We would have to take a second mortgage on the house
or borrow against Arnie's insurance.  I was trying to come up with a reply
when he said, "that, or some pussy."

   "What do you mean?" I knew what he meant, but I could think of anything
else to say.

   "Hey, you been teasing me for months.  Time to stop teasing and pay up,
bitch.  Twenty grand or some pussy.  You tell me which." My mind stopped
working.  I couldn't think of what to say.  "I'll get back to you tomorrow
for your answer," he said.  "You have yourself a nice day and be thinking
about my big hard cock in your white cunt." He disconnected still laughing.

   Arnie always calls me at night when he's away.  By the time he called
that night I was beside myself.  I managed to tell him what Blackbird said.
Arnie was quiet for a long time.

   "Shit, Ann," he finally said.  "I don't think we have that much equity
in the house.  Maybe I can get it from the credit union at work, but I
doubt it.  They have a limit and I think it's under twenty thousand
dollars. I don't know what to do." We both were silent for a long time.  I
think we both knew what was going to happen.  It was our only way out.

   ***

   Annabelle Billings stopped talking and stared at my floor for a long
time.  I let the silence remain until she decided to talk.

   "You have anything to drink here?" she asked.  "I never drank much until
recently.  Now I drink like a fish."

   "No, but there's a nice little pub down the block," I said.  "The sun is
over the yardarm somewhere, I guess." I took her to the watering hole,
bought her a drink and waited for her to continue her story.

   ***

   It's funny how things can go from bad to worse.  I had assumed that
Blackbird was from some place out of state or maybe even out of the
country. Looking back on it I seemed to remember telling him what state I
lived in.  Maybe it was a regional site.  I just don't know, but he was
from right here in the city.  He told me that when he called the next day.
I told him I couldn't travel and that's when he told me he was right here.
Another plan down the drain.  I just couldn't seem to catch a break.

   "So, Biddybird, what did you decide to do?  Money or pussy?" Arnie and I
had already decided that it wouldn't go any good to appeal to his sense of
fair play, but I gave it a shot anyway.  That got a big laugh.  "Hey,
you're looking at it all wrong, Biddybird.  Twenty thousand dollar pussy is
mighty rare.  Now admit it.  You've been thinking about my big black cock
and you know you want to try it."

   Of course I never admitted it to Arnie, but I had thought about it. 
What normal woman wouldn't?  Blackbird looked dangerous and that should
have been a turn-off, but it wasn't.  I guess there is an attraction to the
gangster types.  At least for some women.

   "How would this happen?" I asked him.  "I mean you're not coming to my
house and that's for sure."

   "Naw, you'll come to me, Biddybird.  Tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock."
He gave me an address and directions.  I thought about telling him it was
the wrong time of the month, but I realized it was just putting off the
inevitable.  His way was the only way and I think he knew it.  "I want you
to wear a nice dress with high heel shoes and hose.  No fuckin' pantyhose.
I want you dressed like you were going out on a date.  Nice underwear, you
dig?  Shave that hairy box, too.  You can leave a little hair for a landing
strip if you want to.  Don't be late, cunt." He hung up and I just stared
at the phone for a while.  I cried a while and waited for Arnie to call.

   "Not tomorrow, Ann!" he screamed.  "I won't be home for three more days.
Tell him you have to wait!" I told Arnie that I would try, but I didn't
know how to get hold of Blackbird.  I told him if he called I would try to
put it off.  Blackbird didn't call and I was certain he wouldn't.

   That night I had a dream.a nightmare really.  I dreamed I was having sex
with a man with a ridiculously big thing.  Maybe two feet long.  Crazy
stuff.  I had terrible nightmares all night long, and all of them weird.

   The next morning I showered and shaved my pubic hair like Blackbird
said. I tried on several different dresses and finally decided on a black
cocktail dress.  Since I didn't have any stockings other than pantyhose, I
didn't wear any.  My legs were tanned so I didn't look too bad.  I finished
dressing, summonsed up my courage and left the house.

   I found the address Blackbird gave me after only a couple wrong turns.
It was an older house in a poor neighborhood.  There was no grass and only
a few weeds in the small yard.  There was a car in the drive beside the
house and I parked behind it.  An older black Pontiac.  I don't know why,
but I wrote the license number down on an old bank envelope.

   I wasn't sure my legs would hold me as I went to the door.  I was
shaking like a leaf.  I almost turned and ran away, but I didn't.  I made
it to the front door and just as I did it opened.  There was Blackbird.

   ***

   Annabelle Billings fell silent again.  I ordered us another drink.

   "What can you do that the cops can't do?" she asked me.  "Is what I'm
telling you confidential?"

   "I'm not protected by law, if that's what you mean.  Not like an
attorney or priest." I explained.  "If I'm sworn in court I have to tell
the truth.  That's not likely to happen.  What can I do?  Unlike the police
I have only one case at a time.  That case get's my full attention.  The
cops have hundreds of cases to work.  You might have a case for extortion
from what I've heard so far, but frankly it's shaky.  I'm betting there's
nothing in writing so it's your word against his so far.  Go on and tell me
the rest of the story.

   ***

   "Lookin' good, bitch," were the first words out of Blackbird's mouth. 
He opened the door and I went in.  The inside was a lot better looking than
the outside.  It was clean and neat.  "You been thinkin' 'bout my black
cock ain't you?" he asked leading me into a living area of the house.  The
furniture was old, but in pretty good condition.  I sat on the sofa and
Blackbird handed me a glass of something and told me to drink it.  It was
straight whiskey and I choked trying to get it down.  Up to that point I
hardly ever drank.  A couple glasses of wine or the occasional beer with
Arnie was my limit.  That whiskey was like liquid fire going down and in my
stomach.  I couldn't hardly get my breath.  He handed me a refill when my
glass was empty.

   That whiskey helped settle my ragged nerves.  The heat from that first
glass spread all over my body like a calming wave.  I sipped the second
glass while Blackbird stared at me with an evil grin.

   "Good girl, Biddybird.  What's your real first name?  I don't want to
keep calling you Biddybird." I told him my name was Ann.  "Okay, Ann," he
said.  "You look better in person than you do in your photos.  You are one
good looking piece of ass, but I guess you know that, don't you?" There was
something strangely compelling about his crude talk.  Don't ask me to
explain, because I can't.  I should have been scared to death, but I
wasn't. "You know what's going to happen here, don't you?" he asked.  I
nodded and told him he was going to have sex with me.  That got a big laugh
from him.  "No that ain't it at all.  I'm going to fuck you, Ann.  I'm
going to lay some hard wood in your cunt.  You are goina have some hard
black cock in your twat and you are going to love it.  After I fucked you a
couple of times you are goina be fucking me.  That's' how it works.  Stand
up and let me get a good look at you." I stood up and took a couple steps
and turned back to him.

   "Come over here and take my pants off," he said.  It wasn't a request. I
unfasten his belt and unzipped his fly.  When I pulled his pants down I saw
he wasn't wearing shorts.  When his penis sprang out I nearly fell
backwards.  It was even bigger in real life.

   "Get hold of that cock, bitch.  Lay your fuckin' lips on it and give me
some head." I guess it was the whiskey, but I was able to do as he
demanded. I've always liked giving Arnie oral sex.  He's sensitive down
there so I never got to do it for more than a couple of minutes.  A couple
of times Arnie let me suck him until he ejaculated in my mouth.

   I've learned a lot of new words in the past few months so I guess if
your ears aren't overly sensitive I'll used them.  I like the taste of cum,
but with Arnie, if he came in my mouth that was it for a long time.

   With Blackbird it was different.  He shot-off in my mouth and I nearly
drowned.  I swallow most of his cum, but some dribbled down my face.  His
thing.cock, I mean, didn't even begin to get soft.  If anything it was even
harder.  Blackbird told me I was a good cocksucker.

   "Get stripped for action, slut," he told me.  "Make it slow and sexy,
too." I got off my knees and took my dress off leaving me in panties and
bra.  I had on a black set that I choose after careful consideration.  It
was my newest and sexiest and I wondered why I had chosen it over the
others.  Had I, subconsciously, tried to impress him?

   "Now the bra, cunt.  Let me see your pale white titties." I slowly took
the bra off and suddenly it hit me.  I was teasing this thug!  I was
playing with him and I was enjoying it.  I'm a thirty-four C and my nipples
are very noticeable when I'm chilled or sexually excited.  It was warm in
the house so I had to admit that I was sexually excited.  My nipples were
standing out like little soldiers.  I also knew I was very wet.

   "Let me see your pussy, Ann," he said.  "Better not be any hair, cause I
hate to get hair in my teeth.  You know what I mean?" I meant to leave some
pubic hair on my mound, but I kept trimming and shaving trying to get it
like I wanted until there was nothing left.  I was completely bare.

   I slowly slid the panties down and stepped out of them.  Teasingly I
tossed them to Blackbird.  He caught then and put them to his nose.

   "I can smell a woman in heat," he said giving me that evil grin.  "Where
do you want to get fucked first.  Sofa or bed?" I told myself I just wanted
to get it over with and it didn't matter.  I knew I was lieing.  I wanted
it and it didn't matter where as long as it was soon.

   Blackbird grabbed my arm and pulled me to a bedroom.  I was naked and he
was wearing only his socks.  He threw me onto the bed and he fucked me.

   ***

   "You know I'm using you as a confessor, don't you," Ann said.  "I hope
this isn't inappropriate, but I have to tell someone and we're not
Catholic. Should I pay you something now?"

   "Yes," I answered.  "Or maybe I should be paying you.  We'll get around
to the business part soon enough.  You want another one or should we go
back to the office?"

   "Yes, another drink would be great.  It helps, you know.  I can't
believe I'm telling you all the gory details."

   "So you got it on with Blackbird.  What happened then?"

   "I tried to think of it as making love or even having sex.  It wasn't
either.  It was plain raw animal fucking.  I didn't use to ever say that
word, but that's exactly what it was."

   ***

   Blackbird wasn't much on finesse.  He pushed my legs apart and back and
used his.cock to toy with me.  By the time he put it in me I was seething
with passion.  I remember yelling at him to fuck me.  He did that very
thing.  Over and over again.  I had more orgasms in a couple of hours then
I had in most years.  I lost track of just how many.  Dozens and dozens at
least.

   I'm ashamed to say I denied him nothing.  The only time I offered any
protest was when he started to do my butt.  Arnie tried once and he could
make it happen.  Blackbird squirted some jelly stuff in me and he did make
it work.  I didn't like it, but it didn't make any difference to him.  He
just kept fucking my ass until he came again.

   It was about four o'clock when he finished with me.  I was absolutely
full of his semen.  He must have spent a quart of cum in me.  He showed me
where the bathroom was and told me to shower.

   Blackbird was dressed when I came out.  I dressed and left, but not
before Blackbird told me he'd be seeing me.  About half way home it dawned
on me what I had done.  I cried the rest of the way home.  I was still
crying when Arnie called that night.

   Arnie, bless his heart, tried to comfort me, but I was way passed being
comforted.  I cried even harder when Arnie told me he was going to have to
stay in New York another week.  Now I was miserable and alone.  I found a
bottle of liquor that someone had given Arnie as a gift and I drank about
half of it.  It was something called Southern Comfort and mercifully it was
some comfort.  I slept like the dead until nearly mid-morning.

   I woke up with a hangover and sore privates.  I put some lotion on my
pussy and rectum and that helped.  Five aspirin and some black coffee took
care of the rest of my misery.

   I made myself go about my daily routine.  Laundry, grocery shopping and
cleaning the house.  I went to bed that night tired and thankful that I
was.

   The next day I woke up feeling better.  Nothing hurt anymore.  I
showered, dressed, and fixed my breakfast.  The episode with Blackbird was
now more like a dream.  An erotic dream, but still a dream.  I checked my
messages and saw that there were none from Blackbird.  I felt conflicting
emotions.  To be honest, I was relieved and yet a little disappointed.

   Things went fine until the next afternoon.  Blackbird called.

   "Hi, Ann," he said cheerfully.  "Everything okay?  Nothing sore?"

   "No, not today," I admitted.

   "Good.  You ready for some more black cock?" I didn't answer.  I didn't
say anything at all.  The truth was I felt myself getting wet just hearing
his voice.  "We'll be there in a few minutes so get your ass ready."

   I hung up and then it hit me.  He was coming here!  How did he know
where we lived?  I had not even told him my last name.  How could this
happen?  I was still in shock when the doorbell rang.

   My legs felt like they were made out of lead.  I briefly considered not
answering the door, but that would have done no good.  In fact I hurried
the last part of the way.  I sure didn't want the neighbors seeing a black
man at my door.

   "Hi Ann," Blackbird said pushing passed me.  "This dude is Mark," he
said indicating the second man to come through the door.  He was black
also. "Mark likes white pussy, too.  Nice place you got here." I was
speechless.  My heart was racing and my mouth was as dry as chips. 
"Where's your old man?"

   "How did you find me?' I demanded, when I had enough saliva to speak. 
"You shouldn't be here."

   "Of course I should be here," he said taking me into his arms and
kissing me.  I was gasping for breath when he finished the kiss.  "How did
I find you?  I got a friend at DMV.  Ran your tag." I had not even
considered he would go out and get my tag number.  He shoved me toward the
other man.  "Give Mark some sugar, sugar," he said, laughing at his quip.
"Lay some lip on my man."

   Mark was not as smooth a kisser as Blackbird.  He grabbed a handful of
my breast while his tongue explored my mouth.

   "You want some coffee?" I asked when Mark finally released me.  I wasn't
thinking very clearly.  My head was spinning and I was confused.  Horny,
but confused.

   "No, mostly we're here for some white pussy, but I'd take a beer if you
got one," Blackbird said.  I was facing Blackbird and Mark was hugging me
from behind.  I could feel his dick pushing against me and both hands
squeezing my breasts.  I should have got away and pushed the panic button
on the alarm system.  I should have ran screaming from the house, but I did
neither.  I stood quietly while Blackbird stripped my shorts and top off. I
wasn't wearing a bra because I hadn't planned on going out.

   "Look at them pretty white titties, Mark," Blackbird said pinching both
hard nipples.

   "Yeah, Otis, them's something else okay." Mark spun me around and
clamped his mouth on one nipple while tugging on the other one.  Blackbird
went exploring while his friend sucked and mauled my breasts.

   "Bring the slut in here, Mark," he called from the living room.  "This
is a good place as any to start the fun and games."

   Mark's cock wasn't as big as Blackbird, but he was still pretty big. 
Mark put me on the coffee table and held my legs open for Blackbird to fuck
me.  After Blackbird did me for a while, Mark took over and he fucked me.
They took turns for about half an hour, I guess.  Time had ceased to
matter.

   I had watched some videos Arnie brought home where two men fucked one
woman, but I never imagined myself on the receiving end of such a thing. 
Since this is my confession I'll admit they had me flying high.  I would no
more than climax when I would start another one.

   We had made it upstairs to my bed when things really got intense. 
Blackbird got on the bed and Mark put me on top of him.  Blackbird, with my
help got his cock in me.  God, it felt great having his big cock in me. 
Suddenly I felt something cold on my butt.  I looked around and Mark was
squirting something in my butt.  All of a sudden I knew what was going to
happen next.  I tried to get off, but Blackbird held me tight.  I felt the
tip of Mark's cock probing my butt and I screamed when he went in me.  I
thought for a moment he had shoved a red hot poker in my ass.

   "Take it easy, Ann," Blackbird said still holding me tight.  "It'll stop
hurting in a minute.  Relax, don't fight it."

   He was right.  It did stop hurting, but it took longer than a minute. 
More like three or four minutes.  After they fucked me that way for a while
they swapped and Blackbird took my ass.  I can tell you that two men can do
a lot for one woman.  It actually seemed like more than twice as much. 
That may be some sort of higher math.

   I don't know how long they were there.  A couple hours at least.  I
wasn't even aware when they left.  Between the two of them I was as limp as
a rag doll and couldn't move for a long time.  When Arnie called that night
I didn't tell him about my visitors.  I should have, but for some reason I
didn't.

   Every day for the rest of the week they came and fucked me.  I don't
know why I told them that Arnie was going to be gone another week.  Maybe
on some level I wanted them to come and fuck me.  Maybe I was a slut like
they said I was.  Blackbird stayed all night Friday night.  Like a
shameless hussy I slept with him in Arnie and my bed.  All weekend long
there was a constant parade of men in my house.  That started early
Saturday morning and didn't stop until late Sunday night.  When Arnie
called Friday night I didn't tell him anything about what I was doing.  By
that time I was ashamed to do so.

   When Arnie called on Saturday night I had to let the machine answer
because I was being fucked by Mark and some other guy who's name I never
got.  I called Arnie back later and told him I had been to a movie.  I had
never lied to Arnie before, but I was getting good at it.

   ***

   "Hey, we better get back to your office while I can still walk,"
Annabelle said.  Her speech was getting a little slurred.

   On the way back to the office I asked her if Otis had a last name.

   "Who's Otis?" she asked giving me a blank look.

   "That's what you said Mark called Blackbird," I said.

   "Oh, I never picked up on that.  You're good." I told her that she was
right, but mostly I'm a good listener.  "No, I never heard any other name.
Mark's last name is Bigalow.  I heard one of the others call him that. 
That's all the names I heard."

   The walk and the fresh air seemed to help her get straight.  She was on
her way to being sober by the time we got to my office.  At least I wasn't
having to hold her arm for balance.  I asked her what she did with the tag
number she got off of Blackbird's car.

   "I forgot all about that," she said.  "It's still in the car over the
sun visor.  That's my car over there.  The silver Toyota."

   I asked Ann for a retainer.  Not as much as I usually get, but enough to
make it worth while.  This looked like an interesting case.  One I could
have some fun with and they are rare.

   ***

   Part two

   My friend down at the cop shop came through for me.  The tag number
Annabelle Billings wrote down was listed to Otis Strickland.  The listed
address was consistent with the directions to the house Ann gave me.

   I thought it was time to go see an old.friend, I guess.  The
relationship between Mookie Patterson and me is difficult to explain.  We
played some football together in college, roomed together our senior year,
and we managed to see one another three or four time a year.  Sometimes
more and sometimes less.

   Mookie got into some trouble with the law and served some time in a
federal country club.  It was some white collar shit and Mookie maintained
he was set up to take the fall.  Maybe so, there's a lot of that going on.
After he was released he set himself up in the prostitution business and
over the years he became the Man.  Besides being the big boss of the sex
traffic, he was also a wealth of information.

   "Otis Strickland?" he said.  I found him at his "office" in a bar.

   "Yeah, calls himself Blackbird on the computer, but that may not mean
anything on the street." I told Mookie where Otis lived.  I also gave him
Mark Bigalow's name.

   "No," he said after giving it due consideration.  "Don't know Otis
Strickland.  He's not a player in this town or I would.  I did hear
something about the other one.  Bigalow.  He just got out of the hospital a
few days ago.  Seems like somebody whacked his head with a piece of pipe
over behind the Desert Rose.  You know anything about that?"

   "I might," I said.  "He anything special to you?" Mookie shook his head.


   "Nothing more than a brother got his head busted by some white guy on my
turf.  As far as I know I never laid eyes on either of them.  What's the
story?" I told Mookie what I knew.  He listened until I finished.  He
didn't comment about the omission of my client or her hubby's names.

   "Okay, it happens," he said when I finished.  "You working the case?" I
told him I was looking into the stalking end of it.

   "Apparently, at least according to my client, Blackbird AKA Otis
Strickland won't leave her alone.  He's putting the heat on her to turn
pro. He's using the original photos and some he's taken since to get her in
line."

   "Now that does interest me.  Otis, whatever his fuckin' name is, damn
well knows he ain't getting hos to work my territory.  How did hubby find
Bigalow?"

   "A few weeks back, Bigalow took my client to the Rose.  Tried to get her
to dance and maybe he did.  Don't know about that.  Anyway, my client told
her husband and he went looking for Bigalow.  Bigalow is well known there
and is a regular.  Got some gal dancing there he's managing.  Something
like that.  My client's husband made a couple of trips down to the Rose and
finally located Mister Bigalow.  Took him into the alley and beat the crap
out of him.  He's looking to do the same with Blackbird if he can find
him." By the time I finished, Mookie was laughing fit to kill.

   "Got to expect to get your head thumped if you go messing with some
monkey's monkey," he said.  "Does Hubby not realize that the wifey is doing
this shit willingly?"

   "Yeah, at least on some level he does.  I'm getting the feeling it ain't
so much that she fucking black men.  Even a lot of black men.  I think it's
that Blackbird is threatening to make the photos, and maybe even videos by
now, public.  I suspect it ain't jealousy, it's fear that's motivated him."

   "Yeah, I can see where that might be," Mookie said.  "What can I do to
help?"

   "Not sure, Mookie.  Maybe nothing.  I might be able to persuade
Blackbird to cease and desist on my own.  I'll see you later.  I have a
meeting with my client.  Maybe she'll say something that will help.  See
you later."

   ***

   I met Annabelle Billings at the bar.  She seemed to speak more freely
after a couple drinks.

   After we settled in and got the first drink behind us I asked her to
tell me about her visit to the Desert Rose.

   ***

   Mark came to my house one day about three or four weeks ago.  He and the
others were coming about every day.  It got so I didn't bother putting on
anything more than a robe.

   I had just got out of the shower because Blackbird and some guy he
called Slick had been there nearly all morning.  It didn't surprised me
that Mark came that afternoon, but it did surprise me that he came alone.
He usually brought some other swinging dick to fuck me.

   Mark told me to get dressed in some slut clothes because we were going
out.  That was also unusual.  I didn't have any slut clothes, but I found a
short skirt and a middy blouse that satisfied him.

   He took me to a strip joint downtown.  Desert Rose, I think it's called.
It was about two o'clock when we got there and there were about a dozen men
and four or five dancers.  I asked Mark what we were doing there and he
laughed and told me it was for me to strut my stuff.  He made me get up on
the stage and dance for them.  Since I'm a pretty good dancer I did okay, I
guess.  I got about fifteen bucks in tips.

   When I got back to the table, Mark was with some other black man.  His
name was John something.  If they said a last name I don't remember it. 
Mark told me to sit down and I did.  It took me a minute to figure out they
were discussing me.  To put it bluntly, Mark was selling my ass to John and
they were haggling over the fee.  I nearly shit.  He was making a whore out
of me!

   They came to an agreement and the next thing I knew I was in a motel
room with John.  John fucked me twice and then left.  Mark was gone and I
was a long way from home.  All the money I had was the tips I earned
dancing and that wasn't enough for a taxi.

   I was standing in front of the motel trying to figure out what to do.  I
considered calling Arnie to come get me.  I didn't want to do that because
Arnie was already upset over what was going on.  While I was trying to
figure things out, a man came down from another room, looked me over good
when he passed me.  He went to the ice machine and on his way back he
stopped and asked me how much.  For a moment I didn't know what he was
talking about.  Then it hit me.  He thought I was a whore.

   "What are you looking for?" I asked the man.  He was a short pudgy white
guy.  Looked like a salesman or something.  I thought it might me my way
out of there.

   "Looking for a good time," he said.  "How much?"

   "Fifty bucks," I said.  I didn't know if that was too much or what.  I
figured it would cost twenty or twenty-five dollars to get a cab.  He asked
what fifty would buy and I told him a fuck and a suck.  It's a good thing I
didn't charge him by the hour.  He had me strip and he was through in less
than fifteen minutes.  I went back to the old room and showered again,
called a cab, and went home.

   When Arnie got home I told him what Mark had done to me.  I didn't tell
him about the white guy.  I don't know why I didn't, but I didn't.  Arnie
got pisses and took off looking for Mark.  He was back by midnight.  He
went out every night for three or four nights and then stopped looking.  I
was glad he stopped because I was worried he might get hurt or worse.  Mark
is a mean man.

   ***

   "Ann, Was that the only time they sold.ah, your services?" I asked her.
She shook her head.

   "No, but it was the first time that I was aware of.  They may have
charged some of the men who came to my house, But I don't know if they did
or not.  Arnie went out of town for a week and Blackbird took me to some
house way out in the country.  I was there for three days and I was fucked
by at least fifteen different men.  One of them mentioned to me that I was
worth every penny he had to pay.  That's how I know Blackbird was selling
my ass."

   "You said Blackbird was trying to get you to go pro full time," I said.
"So I guess it didn't come as a surprise that you were being fucked for
money."

   "No, not a real surprise," she said.  "I want out of this mess, Rick.  I
can't take anymore of it.  I spend half of my life on my back with a black
cock in me and the other half worried sick.  This isn't anyway to live."

   "No it isn't," I agreed.  "Haven't you wondered why Mark Bigalow hasn't
been around for a few weeks?"

   "Yeah, I asked Blackbird about it a couple of weeks ago.  He said Mark
was missing in action, whatever that meant.  Then a couple of days ago
Blackbird told me Mark got hurt in a bar fight and was in the hospital."
She suddenly looked startled.  "How did you know he hadn't been around? 
Was that you?" I told her it wasn't me.  I didn't tell her that it had been
Arnie who took Mark Bigalow out of action.

   We talked some more and had another drink and then she left.  It was
getting late and I had things to do.

   ***

   It was about nine o'clock that night.  I was half a block down from
Blackbirds house.  I had seen two men park and go in.  I could hear the
racket of some loud rap shit coming from inside the house.  A few minutes
after nine o'clock I saw a car drive up and stop in front of Otis
Strickland's house.  The car, a new Lexus, looked out of place in the
neighborhood.  A few minutes after the car stopped the interior light came
on and I could see a woman and a man inside.  The woman got out and went
inside Blackbird's house.  The car sat a few minutes and drove off.  I
copied the tag number down after it passed me.

   I was dressed in my ninja outfit.  Black shoes, socks, pants, and shirt.
I got out after checking to make sure the coast was clear and beat-feet
passed the house to the back.  A pit-bull was sleeping peacefully by the
gate.  I didn't concern myself with the dog because I had taken care of
that with a piece of doped meat an hour earlier while Blackbird was out. 
Rover would sleep for several hours.

   I stepped over the mutt and made my way to a window.  Inside I could see
three men and the newly arrived woman.  A pretty white woman who looked
surprisingly calm to be in the company of three rough looking men.

   I was at a bedroom window looking through into the living room.  My view
was obstructed so I went down to the next window which apparently was the
dining room.  From there I could see everything going on.

   The woman was being passed from man to man.  Each one was feeling her up
and kissing her.  Also each man took some piece of clothing off of her.  It
wasn't long before she was naked.  Nice looking woman.  Early to mid
twenties, I guessed.  Her tits were small, but that didn't seem to make any
difference to the men.  They took a lot of delight in mauling her tiny tits
just the same.

   I recognized Blackbird from his picture Ann printed for me.  I also
recognized Mark Bigalow by the white turban he wore.  He looked bad, but he
looked a lot better than he had in the alley.  The third man was a
stranger. Like Blackbird, he was big.  Maybe two twenty or more.  He had a
big gut.  Bigalow looked like he may have lost some weight while in the
hospital.

   While they stripped the tiny woman they also took their clothes off. 
Putting two and two together I deduced that this woman was another
semi-victim like Annabelle Billings was.

   If there had been any, whatever reluctance she arrive with was fast
disappearing.  The treatment from the three men was getting her warmed up.
I was sure that things were going to get real hot pretty soon.

   I wasn't disappointed.  Blackbird was the first to fuck her.  He picked
her up and slammed her down on his cock.  Then took her into the bedroom
still impaled on his cock.  I hurriedly changed windows.

   Since I knew my white face would easily be seen, I used a nifty little
periscope I bought at a war surplus store.  I squatted down below the
window and up periscope.

   Blackbird had the woman on the bed not more than five feet from the
window.  I had a great view as he rammed his cock in and out of her.  He
fucked the woman for about ten minutes then the fat dude took over.  He
didn't last but about five minutes then Mark, with the sore head, took
over. Mark lasted about six or seven minutes and Blackbird was back in the
saddle again.  They kept that swapping going for another thirty minutes or
so.  I was getting leg cramps.  but I, being a devout voyeur, worked
through my discomfort.  I had noticed that a video camera was set up on a
tripod and occasionally one or the other of the men moved it.  I wanted to
see what they did with the tape.

   About an hour into the fuck-fest I saw Blackbird take the tape out of
the camera and replace it with a new one.  He left the room with the old
tape and I scurried back to the dining room window.  I got there in time to
see him put the tape in a wall safe behind a velvet painting of Elvis. 
Hell, everybody loves the King, right?

   I went back to the bedroom window in time to see the woman getting
doubled penetrated by Mark and fat boy.  Something apparently she wasn't
entirely in favor of.  I could hear her squalling through the closed
window. Her yelling stopped after a while however.  I could tell by her
expression she had worked through the pain.  They had her laying on Mark
facing away from him facing Fatty who had his cock in her pussy also.  Two
in the ol' puss.  When Blackbird rejoined them they fucked her in her ass
and pussy at the same time.  A good time was had by all.

   I watched a while longer until the damned dog started whimpering.  He
was not sleeping very sound.  I could see him twitching and jerking and
then the fucking son of a bitch let out a long mournful howl.  I figured I
should be somewhere else and pretty damned quick.  That howling mutt would
bring somebody to check on him.

   ***

   I got my cop friend to check on the Lexus tag and got a name and
address. The car was registered to Fredrick Morrison.  A computer search
got me more information.  Ol' Fred and his wife Kari were living the good
life in Westbridge Eastates, a ritzy neighborhood.  Fred was the co-owner
of Morrison talent agency.  His sister Terri was the other owner.

   I put the Morrison's on the back burner for a while.  I needed a
safecracker and I knew who would know one.  I had not gotten a good look at
the safe, but I knew my limitations.  I'd have trouble if I knew the
combination.

   "Safe man, huh?" Mookie said.  I got him out of his bar office long
enough to ask him.  I didn't want to take a chance on someone overhearing
my plans to commit a felony.  "Yeah, I know a man who might be able to help
you.  The trouble is, he's confined to a wheelchair these days.  Why don't
you bring him the safe and he'll open it for you?"

   "Didn't you hear what I said?  The safe is built into the fucking wall,
Mookie."

   "Look, Rick," Mookie said in his longsuffering way when he's speaking to
an idiot.

   "There's no way that safe could be anchored in the wall very good.  It's
an add-on and probably only has a couple screws holing it in place.  Wall
safes, unless installed during construction, are designed to keep someone
from stealing the contents, not the safe itself.  Jerk the damned thing out
and bring in to my friend.  You can probably pry it out with a crowbar."

   ***

   I cursed Mookie up one side and down the other as I pulled and strained
on the safe.  Getting into Blackbirds house was relativity simple.  I just
waited for him to leave and in the wee hours went in the front door after
jimmying it open.  Getting that fucking safe out of the wall was nowhere
near as simple as Mookie made it out to be.

   I carefully took the velvet painting of the King down so it wouldn't get
damaged.  After all one should pay the proper respect for royalty.  I was
fairly sure I had plenty of time because Blackbird had a small suitcase
when he left.  The small pry bar I used to unlock the front door wasn't
anywhere close.  Fortunately I prepared for that eventuality.  I went back
out to my car and got a whopping big pry bar.

   The safe was larger than I thought it would be.  It was designed to set
between two wall studs.  In other words, sixteen inches wide.  It was about
three feet high.  I spent nearly half an hour prying and straining trying
to get the damned thing out of the wall.  I got a cold beer from
Blackbird's refrigerator and studying the problem while I drank his beer. I
wondered how deep the safe was.  It dawned on me that it had to be deeper
than the thickness of the wall.  You couldn't put much in something that
shallow.  I went into the bedroom and looked in the closet.  There was the
back of the damned thing sticking through the wall.  Things went a lot
smoother after that discovery.  I had the safe out within fifteen minutes.
I spent a few minutes looking around the house.  I fucked up his fancy
computer by removing the hard drive.  I wiped my prints from everything I
touched, including the empty beer can, and left.

   I brought a two wheel dolly because I was smart enough to figure the
safe would be heavy.  It was very heavy.  At least three hundred pounds and
awkward to get a hold of.  I strained every muscle in my body before I
realized that I couldn't lift it by myself.

   I used a nylon cargo strap to secure the safe to the dolly and another
cargo strap to tie the dolly to the trailer hitch on my car.  I took it to
Mookie that way with only one small mishap.  A patrol car saw the weird
configuration and pulled me over.

   I told the incredibly young cop that I had bought the safe and was
taking it home.  I fabricated a story about how my help bailed out on me so
I had to pull it on the dolly.  I don't think he bought it, but after
copying down my driver licenses information he let me proceed.  That kid
was going to have to wise up or he wasn't going to make it in the cop
business.  It was three o'clock in the fucking morning!  He should have
least called his patrol supervisor, for pity sake.

   I wasn't overly worried about Blackbird reporting the burglary.  That
didn't fit in with what I knew about him, not being the law abiding type.
Besides, the driver licenses I show the kid cop was bogus.

   By the time I got to Mookie's place, the wheels on the dolly were shot.
I dragged the dolly the last four or five blocks in a shower of sparks.  It
was a good thing it wasn't my dolly.  I had borrowed it from Mookie.

   I woke Mookie up and he helped me carry the safe into his apartment. 
Thank God for the freight elevator or we would have never made it.

   "I'll get it opened in the morning," Mookie said panting and puffing
like me.  "I'll call you.  Did you have any trouble getting it out of the
wall?"

   "Hell no!" I lied.  "Piece of cake.  Popped right out.  Took about five
minutes." There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of
knowing I nearly killed myself.  Mookie looked at me funny, not knowing
whether to believe me or not.

   ***

   Mookie called me about noon and told me the safe was open and for me to
come get it.  Thirty minutes later I had the contents boxed up and headed
to my office.  When Mookie asked me what I was going to do with the safe I
told him he could have it and left him cursing me.  Some people just don't
know how to graciously receive a gift.

   The safe contents were a pornographer's dream.  Computer disks, video
tapes, DVD's and a pile of photographs.  Best of all were Blackbirds
records.  He may be a rotten, lowdown, sleazy, blackmailing prick, but he
kept excellent records.

   I spent most of the afternoon looking at his collection.  It appeared
that Blackbird had eleven women on his string.  That included Annabelle
Billings.

   "Hi Ann," I said when she answered.  "Is this a good time?" She assured
me it was as good as any.  I told her that I had all the blackmail material
from Blackbird.  She was free to tell her callers to go piss up a rope.  I
hung up wondering if she would really tell them.  I believed she was
addicted to black cock and the thrill of what they made her do.  Well, that
wasn't my problem.  Or so I thought.

   ***

   End of part two



   Part three

   "Rick!" Annabelle Billings' loud panic stricken voice said in my ear.  I
moved the phone away to protect my hearing.  "Blackbird came this morning
and I wouldn't let him in.  He said he was coming back and I'd better let
him in or he'd hurt me.  What should I do, Rick?"

   "Call the police and report it," I said.  "You don't have anything to
fear from him now.  Have his ass tossed in jail." I knew that wasn't going
to satisfy her.  "I'll come on over.  Keep the doors locked." It had been
four days since I notified her that there wasn't any extortion material at
Blackbird's residence.  I don't know why I thought of him as Blackbird
because I knew his name was Otis Strickland.

   I had driven by the Casa Strickland a couple time since I burgled it. 
Yesterday was the last time and each time the place looked deserted.  I
deduced that Blackbird had gone on a trip, but apparently he had returned
and was not a happy camper.

   "Where's Arnie?" I asked Ann.  It took me about half an hour to get to
her home.  I parked on the street a couple houses down.

   "He's in Chicago until Friday.  He left yesterday," she answered.  "I
don't know which is worse.  Letting him in or not letting him and being
scared to death.  Will this nightmare never end?"

   "Yeah, sooner or later," I said.  She made coffee and we waited.  One
hour then another crawled by.  It was getting close to lunch time when I
heard the car doors slam outside.  Ann jump at the sound.

   "Relax, Ann," I said.  I went to the window and peered through the
blinds.  Otis was back and he brought Mack Bigalow with him.  Mark was
still sporting a turban, but it was smaller now.  "Let them in," I told
Ann. "I'm right beside you."

   "What the fuck is going on, you.Who the fuck are you?" Otis demanded
seeing me for the first time.  He had pushed his way inside the door. 
"What the hell.?" I took hold of his arm and slammed him against the wall,
shattering a picture glass.  I flipped his shirt up and removed a revolver
while he was still dazed.  The sure sign of a lightweight.  Everybody is
carrying nine mils this season.  Even the lowest drug dealers wouldn't be
caught dead with a revolver.

   I let the stunned Otis go and turned to Mark Bigalow who was fumbling to
get his weapon out of his back pocket.  I helped him and got his Saturday
night special.  An Argentine rip-off of a S and W Chief's Special.

   "Boys, we need to talk," I said.  "I would have thought it was obvious,
but apparently it isn't.  You assholes are out of business."

   Otis took a roundhouse swing at me.  Being a trained detective I
detected he wasn't ready to talk.  I stepped inside his swing and punched
him on the point of his chin.  He hit the floor hard.  I whirled to see
what Bigalow was up to.  Mark wasn't taking any chances with his fragile
skull.  He was standing completely still, his hands half raised.

   "Follow me," I told Mark.  I grabbed Otis by his shirt collar and
dragged him into the living room.  I invited them to have a seat.  I had to
help Otis, but Mark nearly dived into the chair.

   From there I proceeded to inform them that they nor any of their friends
were to never have any contact with Ann .  Otis Strickland's attention
wandered a bit, but a gentle slap on his face got it back.  I concluded my
presentation by informing them that they shouldn't contact any of their
former victims ever again.  I discovered early in life that bullies hate to
be bullied.  Maybe that's why I enjoy doing it to them.

   I escorted them out to their car, unloaded their crappy guns and tossed
them in the back seat, and bid them farewell.  Otis summons up enough nerve
to yell at me as he drove off.  He told me I was in deep shit.  So what
else is new?  I went back inside and asked Ann if there was any coffee
left.

   "That was great," she said making a fresh pot.  "You handled them like a
couple of kids.  Loud-mouth Mark never opened his mouth once."

   "Two things, Ann," I said modestly.  "They weren't expecting me, for
one. And two, Mark wasn't about to do anything that might get his head hurt
again, so that left me with just Otis to deal with.  I'm big and I'm
trained and a big man with training and experience will beat a big man
without training and experience every time.  Look Ann," I said in an
attempt to make her understand.  "I can keep Otis and company out of your
hair, but it won't work if you contact any of them.  It will only take one
call, one e-mail, one tiny hint that you're still interested, and they'll
be back.  I hope you understand that, Ann.  If you need some cock settle
for white or some different black ones."

   "What makes you think I have to have any cock?' she asked me a
mischievous smile playing around her mouth.

   "You've been used to being serviced pretty regularly, haven't you? 
Stands to reason."

   "Yeah, it's been kind of lonely around here.  Watching you manhandle
those two has me really turned on, Rick.  Are you interested?" Hell, the
coffee could wait a while.

   Since Ann wasn't a client any longer, I didn't have to wrestle with any
self-imposed or other ethics.  Annabelle was a good fuck.  Blackbird and
company had taught her well.  She entered into the game full of enthusiasm.
I couldn't help but think about poor Arnie.  He had a super hot wife and I
doubted that he, or any one man, could keep her satisfied for very long.

   ***

   "Tell the bitch to call me," Mookie said that night.  We were having
dinner on me.  I owed him for his help.  "I got a friend that can use her.
She's got several part-timers working in her stable.  Runs a clean safe
operation." I told him I would do that.  Ann Billings was going to need an
outlet.

   "What are you going to do with the others bitches that Strickland was
fucking with?" he asked.  It was a good question and I didn't have a good
answer.  I asked for his advice.  "Fuck if I know," he said none too
helpfully.  "Contact them and tell them they're off the hook, I guess. 
Won't make a lot of difference anyway," he added with a grin.  "They been
used to black cock and nothing else is ever going to do.  You can tell the
good looking ones to call me when they need some hard black cock.  I'll
help them out." That's my Mookie.  He's all hard.  No, I said that right.
No heart, just hard.

   "From what I've seen they all are good looking.  Not necessarily
beautiful, but nice." I replied.  I destroyed the video and photos of Ann
Billings and debated what to do with the rest of the stuff.  It was stored
in my safe in my office.  I wasn't worried about anyone getting into it or
hauling it off.  I bought it from a bank that was closing a branch.  I
hired a crane to put it in my office and it would take a crane to get it
out.

   I took Mookie's advice and the next morning I started contacting the
people on my list.

   Most of the people I spoke with seemed relieved, but some were obviously
disappointed.  People are a hoot, aren't they?

   The fifth name on my list was Kari and Fredrick Morrison.  I got no
answer at the Morrison's so I left a message for ol' Fred to contact me. 
He did later that day.  He stormed into my office.

   ***

   I took an immediate dislike for Fred.  He was pushy and overbearing.  He
had a typical rich person's manner.  The kind that comes with an expensive
education and being born rich.  His conduct would have been acceptable for
anyone, let alone a kid.  I'm old enough to consider anyone under thirty a
kid.  I didn't like his very expensive silk suit or his Italian shoes.  His
fucking tie cost more than my whole ensemble.  I was wearing J.C.  Penny
pants, Wal-Mart shirt, and running shoes that were nice, but inexpensive.

   "How dare you interfere in my business!" were the first words out of his
mouth full of capped teeth.  "I have contacted my attorney." That last part
was a bare-face lie.  I knew he wasn't about to have a lawyer getting
involved.  Pure bullshit that I ignored.

   "Have a seat, Mister Morrison," I said as pleasantly as I could.  "This
won't take long so stop with the threats."

   I think Fred was the only person I had ever seen to turn completely
translucent.  When I told him that I had witnessed him delivering his wife
to a bunch of black men for the purpose of group sex, he started turning
pale.  By the time I got to the part where I saw the three men fucking his
wife he was deathly white.  He went transparent when I told him I had video
of that orgy and several others.  I just opened my mouth to tell him he
could have all of the material I had, when he jumped to his feet and
started yelling at me.

   "I'll have you thrown under the jail!" he screamed.  "I've paid enough
and I'm not paying any more, you blood-sucker!" I waited until he ran down
and told him I wasn't trying to blackmail him.  "What do you mean?" he
asked after I told him he could have the photos and tapes.  "Are you saying
you don't want money?"

   "I am saying exactly that.  I was working another case and I happened to
run across it.  I have no need for any of it, and you are welcome to it. 
Take it with my blessing, you yuppie piece of shit." Not very diplomatic,
but he pissed me off.  I gave him the tapes and photos and indicated that
the door shouldn't hit him in the ass.  He didn't move.  He silently stared
at the stuff I handed him.  Especially the photographs.  They were quite
graphic.  I was about to toss him out when I noticed he was crying.

   I can't handle a woman's tears very well and a man weeping just kills
me. I want to go hide when I see any man crying.  I didn't think Fred was
much of a man, but it still tore me up.  I went outside and stood on the
sidewalk to get away from it.

   He came out after about ten minutes.  He stopped beside me and we
studied the traffic for a few moments.

   "Thank you, sir," he said softly.  "I wonder if I could retain you?"

   "For what?  You have everything I had.  Your problems are over now. 
What can I do for you?"

   "No, they are not over, Mister Short.  Not quite.  There is another man
involved that's not connected to that Blackbird guy.  I need you, sir."

   I still didn't like him very much, but I wasn't so prosperous that I
couldn't take another case.  Especially one that could pay my normal fee.
He asked me if I could come to his office at ten o'clock the next day.  Of
course I agreed.

   ***

   The Morrison Agency was in a uptown high-rise.  They occupied the
twentieth through the twenty-fifth floors.  High dollar and high-class
operation all the way.  Fred's office was on twenty-five.  On the elevator
ride up, I revised my fee.

   Fred invited me in and told his secretary he wanted no calls.  He closed
the door on his corner office.  He was obviously nervous as he told me
about the Morrison Agency.  How they handled a wide variety of talent. 
From models to rappers, he said.  I figured he'd get around to the subject
sooner or later so I waited for him to get to it.

   "We should discuss your fee, Mister Short," he finally said having run
out of things to say about the talent business.  "What do you require as a
retainer?"

   I told him how I earned an hourly rate working off of the retainer.  I
doubled my usual fee to honor his fancy offices.  He wrote a check for ten
thousand dollars and handed it to me.  I was beginning to like ol' Fred a
lot more than I had.  I put the check in my pocket and waited.

   "Does the name Cleo Toms mean anything to you, Rick?" he asked.  His
demeanor changed the moment I took his check.  He was on familiar ground
now that I was his employee.  I was no longer Mister Short.  Cleo was a
name I would remember so I shook my head.  "Toms is.he's a bad man, Rick. A
very bad man.  He's trying to take over our business.  My sister and I own
this agency.  We inherited it from our father, and I don't intend for
that.that.scoundrel to take it away."

   "What kind of claim does he have on your business?"

   "It's complicated, Rick," Fred said.  "I'm going to take you back about
six months ago.  It's not a pleasant story, but I'm going to be frank with
you and just tell it."

   ***

   My wife, Kari, is what some might call a free spirit.  She always has
been.  We met five years ago.  I was finishing up getting my degree and she
was at the same college.  We met, dated and got married.  That was almost
four years ago.  Kari is several years younger than I.

   I was immediately attracted to her.  I knew she was a little promiscuous
because we had sex on our first date, and I had heard stories about her
from others.  I mean, she.I guess I mean, she wasn't a slut.  She was
selective and careful.  Keri has an extraordinarily high libido.  She has
to have a lot of sex.  I told myself that I could keep up with her, but I
was wrong.  Even before we married I knew she was seeing other men.

   I went into the marriage knowing that, but I didn't care.  She was so
special.  After we married I knew she had other men.  I was okay with that.
I knew she needed more than I could provide.  About six months ago Keri met
a man named Otis Strickland.  I think your familiar with him.  I'm not sure
how they met.  Maybe on the computer.  Kari spends a lot of time on her
computer.  However it happened, she went to see him.  I know this because
she told me about it later.

   Kari went to see that man a lot over the next few weeks.  She had a real
thing for him.his friends, too, I suppose.

   ***

   I was visualizing Kari Morrison taking on three men when I realized that
Fred had stopped talking.  He had swiveled around and was looking out the
big window at the city.  I don't know what he was seeing, but I doubted it
was even out his window.

   "Where did you get the tapes and photos, Rick?" he asked turning back to
look at me.

   "Out of Otis Strickland's safe," I answered.  I hoped I didn't sound
smug, but I probably did.

   "I see," he said slowly.  "I take it you're not opposed to violating the
law?"

   "Nope, not when there is a greater good.  I usually don't speed or park
in a handicap parking place.  I would never steal from an innocent person,
but I don't mind rearranging the fine lines of the law when I think it's
necessary."

   "I see," he said again.  I could tell that Fredrick had something on his
mind.  "If it was for the greater good, could you kill someone?" Ah, there
it was.

   "No."

   "No?  Why no?"

   "Because death is so fucking final," I said.  I was starting to not like
him again.  "What I did to Blackbird didn't hurt innocent people.  It
helped them and it for damned sure wasn't fatal to Otis Strickland.  I've
taken human life and it's not a good thing even when the killing is
justified.  Too hard to live with, so I avoid killing people.  If that's
what you think you retained me for, you can take back your fucking check."
I was reaching into my pocket when he waved it off.

   "No, it was just a thought.  Don't worry about it, Rick.  Where was I?"

   "You were telling me about your wife getting fucked by Strickland and
company." He winced at my crudeness and I didn't care all that much.  He
went back to his story.

   ***

   For the life of me, I can't figure out the attraction she has for them.
They're ignorant, crude, nasty, and they are mean to her.  You wouldn't
believe what they have had Keri doing.  I mean she's a lady, she's
educated, she's.everything they are not.

   I tried to break it up.  I even found her a clean-cut white guy to mess
around with, but she wasn't interested.  She went right back to them. 
Whenever one of them would call, she would stop whatever she was doing and
go off to wherever.

   At least once every couple of weeks that black man would insist that I
deliver her to them.  At first I refused, but he sent me some photographs
of Keri with.them.  They were graphically nasty.  I was told to do what
they said or everybody I knew would get copies.  Naturally I did as he told
me to do.  A scandal could ruin my business, you know.  He didn't ask much
of me so.anyway most of his demands were on Kari.  That was how Cleo Toms
got involved.

   ***

   "Maybe you should have Keri tell you about that," Fred said.  "I'm not
sure I understand exactly how it happened."

   "Will your wife talk to me?" I asked.  He nodded.  "Okay, when?"

   "Today," he answered.  "She's expecting you to come to the house at two
o'clock." He handed me a card with the address printed on it.  I got up and
started to leave.  "Rick, just so you'll know.  It Cleo Toms should end up
dead it would be worth one hundred thousand dollars to whoever was
responsible." Since I had no reply to that, I didn't make one.

   The Morrison's live in Westbridge Estates.  Westbridge or WB as the
realtors put it, is a very exclusive gated community.  Gated with a guard.
Not a retired person either.  Big steely eyed sucker with a gun and
everything.

   The guard gave me a mean close scrutiny and then checked his clipboard
to see if I could go in or if he got to shoot me.  Luckily my name was on
his list.  I could see why Keri Morrison had to go out for her clandestine
meetings with Otis and the gang.  A black man in WB?  No way that would
happen.

   As I drove along the divided boulevard, I was lucky to see some of the
women of the WB garden club planting flowers in some of the flowerbeds
along the way.  I think my five year old domestic SUV startled them, but I
smiled and waved anyway.  I doubt if some of them ever actually saw an
American made vehicle that close before and certainly not within the
protected confines of WB.  I was happy to give the old bitches something to
talk about over tea.

   I was pleased to note that there were no empty beer bottles or cans
littering the scenic drive into the deep recesses of the community.  Hell,
there wasn't even a blade of grass out of place in the manicured lawns.  I
figured the cheapest place in there was in the two million five category,
and I'm sure the residence of that house went to bed every night deeply
ashamed of their home.

   The Morrison dwelling place was up there near the top of the price
range. At least five or six million smackers, I guess, but what the hell do
I know?  At least it provided shelter from the elements if indeed the
elements were allowed in Westbridge Estates.

   The door to Villa Morrison was opened by an attractive Latina in a gray
and white maid's uniform.  So I had been wrong.  The darker skin people
could come inside, but only to serve the residents.  I was still pretty
sure that Blackbird and his cohorts wouldn't get passed the gate.  Black
men in an old Pontiac was probably what the guard fantasized about.

   The maid told me in barely understandable English that Mrs.  Morrison
would join me in the library.  She showed me where to wait and asked if she
could get me anything.  I said a cold beer would be fine, she nodded, and
left me alone in a library without any books.  At least not very many
books. Shoot, it was just a fancy den.

   "I'm Kari Morrison," she said whizzing into the room.  "You must be
Mister Short." I confessed that I was Rick Short and that I wasn't much on
the formality of being called mister.

   "Rick, then," she said.  "I'm Kari.  My, you are a big boy aren't you?
My husband has instructed me to tell all.  Can you keep secrets, Rick?"

   "I can't answer that because it's a secret," I said.  She smiled at my
attempt at humor.  It wasn't a big smile, but it was still a smile.  I
examined her while I assured her that wild horses couldn't drag information
out of me.

   Kari Morrison was smallish, maybe five feet one and on a slim frame. 
She was wearing a pair of tan slacks and a pastel shirt open down a couple
of buttons.  Her hair was a yellow gold and looked natural, but people with
lots of money could have green hair made to look natural Since I had seen
her naked I didn't have to mentally undress her.  I did anyway just to keep
in practice.

   "Are you a good private detective, Rick?' she asked when we were seated.
She on an overstuffed chair and me on a long leather couch.

   "Yes, I am," I answered honestly.  "Damned good." I didn't mention I
didn't have a fucking clue what her husband wanted from me, but I knew I
would be good at it.  Everything except assassination.  "Your husband
indicated you could shed some light on my tasking.  Please feel free to
jump right on it."

   "Yes, he mentioned that I should be forthcoming.  Do you know Cleo
Toms?" Why does everybody keep asking me that?  I shook my head indicating
I was unfamiliar with Cleo Toms.  "I see," she said in a tone that
indicated that I should know Cleo Toms.

   The pretty maid brought my beer and Keri a tall glass of something on a
silver tray.  She held her libation up.

   "Cheers, Rick Short," she said.  "Make yourself comfortable because this
will take a while.  I hope I won't offend your sensibilities." I assured
her that my ears were not very delicate and she launched into her story.

   ***

   I met my husband in college.  He was getting his degree and I was an
undergraduate.  Fredrick was a lot of fun and we got married.  I'll admit
it wasn't and isn't a conventional marriage.  I discovered pretty early
that I liked everything about sex.  I need a lot of sex.  More than one man
can provide.  Fredrick knew this going in and he's alright with it.

   Fredrick has been nice about things.  He has even found me a lover from
time to time.  His only demand on me was for me to be discreet, and I have
been.  Well, until recently that is.

   Things got a bit wobbly after I met Otis.  Otis introduced me to group
sex and I love it.  I met him on line in a chat-room.  We corresponded for
a few weeks and I made arrangements to meet him.

   I met Otis in Wintersburg a few miles from here.  I took a room in a
motel and he came to me.  If I live to be a hundred I will never forget
that first time with him.  He was my first black man and there was
something terribly exciting about the mixing of black and white.  I'm not a
racist, I just never had the opportunity to fuck a black man before.  It
was so different and I became hooked, as they say.  Otis kept me in that
motel room for over three hours and he left me there feeling totally
satisfied.

   One reason the first meeting was so great was simply Otis was a stud. 
I'd never been with any man who could keep going the way he does.  The man
just doesn't stop like my other lovers.

   Another reason is, Otis was totally in control.  He didn't ask me to
remove my clothes, he demanded I do so.  He didn't ask permission to kiss
me, he just did.  In the space of a few minutes he made me his slave.  His
fuck slave to do with as he wished.  He seems to be a dangerous man and I
think that's part of the attraction.



   After a couple times at a motel, he told me I should come to his house
in the city.  I did as he asked.  When he took photos of me, I begged him
not to show them to anyone, but I didn't protest.  I had never let anyone
photograph me nude before.  Even Fredrick.  It was different with Otis.  I
simply bowed to his wishes.

   One reason I didn't allow anyone to photograph me nude was I'm a bit
self-conscious about my small breasts.  I always told myself that I would
have breast enhancement as soon as I could afford it.  Fredrick agreed for
me to have implants and I was going to do so, but a friend of my had hers
done and she told me that the feeling never came back entirely.  That
scared me because I have very sensitive breasts.  I love the feeling of a
man's mouth on my nipples and I can orgasm just from having my breasts
played with.  I was afraid I would lose that so I elected not to go through
with it.  I decided to keep my little cones and make the best of it.

   After Otis came along I realized I did the right thing.  Otis loves my
tiny titties.  He can take one completely in his mouth and get me off that
way.  It was because of Otis I had my pubic hair removed by electrolysis.
He is a master of oral sex.  He are me for long periods of time and gave me
many crashing climaxes.

   It hard to explain my relationship with Otis.  Frankly, I don't
understand it myself so I don't expect anyone else to understand.  When he
summons me, I go.  When he tells me to do something I do it.

   One day Otis called me and told me to come to his house.  He said he had
a special treat for me.  When I arrived he was with another man.  Mark was
his name.

   "Didn't I tell you my pocket pussy was something?" Otis said to Mark. 
"She is one hot piece of ass.  Ain't got no tits, but she had some fine
pussy." It embarrassed me to be talked about like a pieces of meat, but I
didn't say anything.  "Come here, baby," Otis said.  I went over to where
he sat.  He pulled me down onto his lap and kissed me.  While we kissed he
unbuttoned my shirt and exposed my breasts to the other man.  Without
breaking the kiss he completely removed my shirt.

   It didn't take long until Otis had me completely naked before Mark.  I
was still embarrassed, but I was getting over it.  I assumed Otis and I
would have sex while Mark watched.  I was wrong.  Otis demanded I have sex
with Mark and he didn't take no for an answer.  I think I said no, but
maybe I didn't.  Probably not.  By that time I was used to doing what Otis
told me to do.

   Otis held my legs open for his friend to fuck me.  Then Mark Made me
suck him while Otis fucked me.  Between the two of them I had black cocks
in he for nearly three hours.

   I discovered the joy of anal sex a long time before I met Otis, but he
refined it.  Of course he was bigger than most of my previous lovers, but
it was more.  Otis made anal sex both exciting and demeaning.

   During that first meeting with Mark I was doubled penetrated anally and
in my pussy and to tell the truth, I loved it.

   It was apparent that Otis and Mark had fucked other women together. 
Their moves were practiced and they knew exactly how to do me.  They kept
me on an orgasmic high for hours on end.

   After that I went to Otis expecting to be the third person in a
threesome and I eagerly looked forward to it.  After a couple of weeks he
added another man and sometimes a forth man.  Then there was a constant
stream of strangers coming to his house or to a motel somewhere.  On
several occasions I was kept in a place overnight and was constantly being
fucked.

   It was both terrible and wonderful at the same time.  Each time they
would do me like that, I'd swear to myself I wouldn't ever go back, but I
always did.

   Some of the men were rough with me but most just wanted to fuck me.  I
didn't mind it when they were a little rough, but sometimes they hurt me.
Mark liked to double penetrate my pussy.  He got a kick out of doing that
to me.  Sometimes it was okay, but other times it hurt because they were
too big.  Once I had to go to my gynecologist because they torn me a
little. I doubt the doctor believed my story.

   I was aware that Otis or one of the others were taking pictures and
video of me, but I never thought they would used the to hurt Fredrick. 
They did.  Otis sent Fredrick some video and some photos of me.  It nearly
killed poor Fredrick.  He has out up with so much.

   It dawned on me that Otis got a thrill out of using the photos and video
of me to humiliate Fredrick.  I don't know how much Fredrick has paid Otis,
but I imagine it is a lot.

   ***

   "Would you like another beer?" she said.  It took a moment for me to
realize she was talking to me.

   "Yes, that would be nice." She rang a bell and the Latina showed up and
soon brought us another drink.

   "Keri, who the fuck is Cleo Toms?" I asked.

   "Cleo Toms is a businessman.  I suppose that best describes him.  He's a
powerful black man.  He made the extortion Otis was doing seem like nothing
at all.  Here's how I met Cleo Toms."

   ***

   I had been seeing Otis and his friends for about two months when one
night Otis took me to a hotel room uptown.  He didn't tell me we were going
to meet another man, but I assumed we would.  He was very mysterious about
the venture, which added to the excitement.  By then I was living for the
excitement.

   Otis took me to the door and knocked.  Otis opened the door and I went
in.  Otis didn't.  He told me he would see me later, closed the door.  I
was surprised at that.  I looked around and saw Cleo Toms for the first
time.  Cleo is a midget and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at
him.  He's barely three and a half feet tall and black.  He jumped down
from a chair and came to where I stood.  He looked even smaller standing
beside me and I'm not very tall as you can see.

   "Ah, Kari Morrison," he said in a shrill little voice.  "Good of you to
come.  Can I get you a drink?" I told him yes.  I desperately needed a
drink, because it was so bizarre.  He poured champagne and I gulped the
first glass down.  He poured another.

   "Do you know why you are here?" he asked me.  He was wearing a robe and
was barefooted.  I shook my head, because I had no idea why I was there. 
It never dawned on me that he was going to have sex with me until he opened
the robe and I saw he was naked underneath the robe.  His cock was huge! 
It nearly dragged the floor.  His cock would have been large on an normal
size man.  "I intend on fucking you until you can't stand up," he said
stroking his big black cock.  I couldn't take my eyes off of the incredible
sight.

   The tiny repulsive man was a fucking machine.  He took me to the bed and
while he lay on the bed and watched he stroked his dick while I stripped.
His cock was at least an full inch longer than Otis and when he put it in
me it felt wonderful.  I could close my eyes and hide his deformities while
he ravished me over and over again.

   Cleo Toms kept me in the hotel room for two days and nights.  He fucked
me most of that time.  Room service kept us fed and I think that was the
worst.  When the waiters brought us the food, Cleo made me show them my
body.  Once while the waiter set up the food cart, Cleo made me suck him in
full view of the waiter.  I wanted to die it was so embarrassing.

   Cleo finally got enough of me and sent me home on the morning of the
third day.  I left the hotel knowing I had been well and truly fucked.  Of
course that didn't end it.  Cleo called me back several times after that.

   On the third visit he made me watch video's of Otis and the other men
fucking me.  I hadn't seen any of them before.  At first I wasn't at all
turned on watching myself on the screen, but after a while it started to be
a turn on.  I asked Cleo how he got the video and he told me be bough them
from Otis.  He laughed and told me it was his ticket to buy The Morrison
Agency.  I didn't understand, but later I did.  He was going to blackmail
Fredrick.  I was devastated.

   Cleo met with Fredrick and told Fredrick that he should sell his stock
to him.  Fredrick tried to explain that he couldn't sell his stock to
anyone without first offering it to his sister, Teri.  That is how the
partnership is set up.  That slowed Cleo down, but didn't stop him quest
for the company.

   A week ago Cleo called for me and of course I went.  I didn't look
forward to meeting him as much as I had meeting Otis and the others. 
That's not to say Cleo wasn't a good fucker.  He was very good.  That
meeting he told me I was to set him up with Terri, Fredrick's sister.  I
tried to tell Cleo that I couldn't do that.  In the first place Terri
doesn't like me.  Cleo insisted and I finally told him that I'd try. 
That's where we are right now.

   ***

   I left Keri a little while later and drove back through the guarded gate
giving the guard the finger.  I needed to talk with Mookie.

   ***

   "Of course I know Cleo Toms," Mookie said.  "Everybody knows or knows of
him."

   "He's trying to take over my clients business by blackmail," I said.

   "Yeah, and of course you got on your white charger and are going to try
to prevent that shit," Mookie said laughing.  "Rick, you beat all I ever
seen.  When are you going to grow up?"

   "Never, I hope.  How can I stop him?"

   "You can't, you simple asshole," Mookie snapped.  "Your best bet is to
get the fuck out of the way before you get your white ass run over.  Cleo
Toms is nothing like that Blackbird dude."

   "Yeah, you're right," I said.  "He sounds a lot more formidable .  How
did he get that powerful?"

   "Cleo came into town about five or six years ago," Mookie said.  "He hit
the ground running.  He's cozy with the movers and shakers in town.  He
contributes to the right politicians and he got a pisspot full of money. 
Rumor has it he came out of Florida and made his money running a bunch of
girls in Miami.  Mostly white and Cuban girls.  Apparently he's legit now,
but who knows?  I do know he'll eat your breakfast for you if you mess with
him."

   "Sounds like a challenge and I do love a challenge," I said.  "You know
where he lives?"

   "I do and I'm not doing you any favor by telling you a damned thing. 
Leave it alone, Rick." I got Cleo's address from Mookie before I left. 
Mookie is the easiest hard-ass I know.

   ***

   Cleo Toms lives in a huge house in another ritzy area.  Not as fancy as
Westbridge, but nice.  There was no guard at the gate so I just drove on
in. I found a place where I could see his house and using my binoculars I
studied it.  It was about three o'clock in the afternoon.

   I saw a white woman come out of the house and run down the long drive
and away from my position.  Jogging has become a way of life for some
people.  Not me.  I run only when I have to.

   The information I had on Cleo was sketchy, I did learn that he was
married and had two children.  A boy and a girl.  Both were normal size as
was his wife.  By digging around I found out that the children were not
his. He adopted them when he married his wife.  The boy was twenty and away
at college and the girl was eighteen and starting school in the fall.

   I sipped the coffee and munched on a doughnut I brought with me.  I
learned a long time ago to always have food available.

   "What's so interesting about our house?" the voice said from beside me.
I spilled coffee all over me when I jumped and the half eaten doughnut flew
out the window.

   "What?" I stammered.  I had been so engrossed in watching the house she
had slipped up on me from behind.

   "Why are you watching our house?" she asked.  "Isn't that boring?" I
tried to explain that I wasn't watching her house or any house.  I told her
I was a bird watcher.  I made up some bullshit about this neighborhood
being in the flight-path of the yellow wing warbler.  I'm not sure there is
such a thing.  It didn't make a lot of difference, because she wasn't
buying it anyway.

   "Are you a cop?  Is daddy in trouble?  I'll bet he is, isn't he?  What
did he do?"

   The questions came fast and furiously.  I couldn't have answered them if
I wanted to.  "I knew he'd get in trouble some day.  He's a mean little
shit.  I don't like him at all.  Come on tell me what he did."

   I turned in my seat to get a better look at her.  She was a pretty girl
even though sweaty from her run.  She was breathing hard but not
excessively.  She had blond hair and clear blue eyes and from what I could
tell a nice figure.

   "No, I'm not a cop," I said while studying her.  "I'm a scout for a
movie company.  Just trying to find."

   "Yeah, a yellow belly warbler or something, huh?" she was laughing at
me. "Anyway you're wasting your time because daddy is gone out of the
country.  He and mom won't be back for a week.  There's no one at home but
me and the house keeper, Maria." That was news to me.  She was running in
place beside my car.

   "Come on, I'll bet you'd like to get a look inside, wouldn't you.  I'm
Gina Toms, by the way.  What's your name?" I made up a name and she grinned
looking skeptical.  'You want to see inside?"

   I told her that would be nice and she set off, yelling at me to follow
her.  Sometimes you can't buy a break and sometimes they fall in your lap.
I started the car and slowly followed her to the house.  I parked and she
passed me telling me to come on.

   "You like beer?" she asked.  I told her I did.  "Maria," the girl yelled
after we entered.  "Bring us some beer to the patio." She went through the
house taking her running clothes off as she went.  By the time she got to
the swimming pool she was buck naked.  I had been right.  She did have a
good figure.  I could see she was also a natural blonde.

   She dove into the pool and splashed around and climbed out shaking water
like a dog and laughing.

   "I love to get all hot and sweaty and jump in the pool." She used her
hands to wipe the water off of her taking her time when she got to her
impressive chest.  A short heavyset woman brought a container of beer and
ice.  She sat it down and disappeared back into the house.  "Help your self
to the beer," Gina said.  She flopped down on a lounge and gave me a nice
look at her shaved pussy.  "Get me one, please."

   I pulled a couple bottles out of the ice and handed her one.  She seemed
comfortable with her nakedness, the maid didn't seem to notice, and I liked
looking.

   "So are you going to level with me?  Are you a cop?"

   "No, private investigator," I said.

   "Looking at daddy for something?  Some husband hire you?"

   "Something like that," I said.  "Why don't your like your daddy?"

   "Because he is a creepy little man and he's mean to my mother.  Shit,
everybody knows he'd fuck a rattlesnake if somebody held it's head.  He
even brings his sluts home and he makes mom watch them.  He even tried to
make me watch, but I told him to get fucked.  I hope you nail his little
black ass and good.  Can I help?"

   "Yeah, sure you can," I said.  "Just looking at you is helping me a
lot." She laughed and pinched both nipples while looking at me.

   "Getting you hot, mister private detective?" she asked in an ageless
sensual way women have used since the dawn of time.  I nodded.  "Want to
fuck me?" I nodded again.  "Here or my bed?" I told her it didn't matter. I
stripped down and took her on the lounge.  Gina may have been young, but
she brought a lot of natural ability to the table.  I spent the rest of the
afternoon fucking her.  By the pool, in the den and finally on her bed.

   Later I took her out to eat and more talk.  She couldn't find a nice
thing to say about her daddy.  We were just finishing eating when suddenly
I had an idea.  It had been a while since I had a good one and I almost
didn't recognize it when it came.

   Gina was telling me how protective he was of her and how he wouldn't let
her date until she was seventeen.  She mentioned how crazy he got when she
told him she wasn't a virgin.

   "Gina," I said when she slowed down a moment.  Lord that girl sure could
talk a lot.  "You really want to screw with Cleo's head?" She said she
would love to screw with his head.  I outlined my idea for her and she
loved it.  Now all I needed was someone to help me take pictures of her
getting ganged fucked.  Time to call on Mookie again.

   "Let me see if I got this straight," he said.  "You want me to fuck Cleo
Toms white daughter while you take pictures of it.  Then you want me to be
part of a gang-bang with the same girl.  You got to be out of your fucking
mind, Rick.  I don't need a war with Cleo Toms.  Toms is bad news and he'd
have my black ass killed in a heart-beat.  Get that stupid-ass Blackbird to
do it."

   Bingo!  I wanted to shout.  Mookie had taken my idea and made it even
better.  I gave it a lot of thought and I knew how I was going to do it.

   ***

   "Do you think he'll believe me?" Keri Morrison asked me the next
morning. I had picked Gina up and we were at Keri's house.

   "Hey, I've seen your videos," I said "You're a good actress, Keri.  Of
course he'll believe you."

   "I wasn't acting in the videos," she said laughing.  "Okay I'll do it.
When and where?"

   "Call him and tell him your kid sister is visiting from out of town. 
Describe her to him and say she want's to meet him and a couple of his
buddies for an old fashion gang-bang." I gave her the motel name and the
room number.  "Tell Otis to have his gang there at two o'clock this
afternoon and that's it a one time offer."

   I had everything all set up and waiting.  I spent most of the night
drilling peepholes from one motel room to the other.  I had four borrowed
video cameras placed around the room at various angles.  The cameras were
high resolution professional cameras designed for low light.

   ***

   Otis Strickland, my old friend Mark Bigalow, and a guy Keri identified
as Slick arrived at exactly two o'clock.  From the way they looked around I
could tell they were suspicious.  One look at Gina and they all forgot to
be wary.  Eighteen year old white pussy was something special and they
didn't waste a minute.  They were on Gina like a dog on a bone.

   I felt some concern for Gina's welfare, but she was a trooper and took
everything they threw at her.  Even when they all fucked her at the same
time she didn't waver.  In fact she enjoyed every minute of it.  When they
finished with her she still wanted some more.

   I don't propose to be an editor, but the movie turned out great.  I
spliced video from all four cameras and there was no doubt who Gina was. 
There could be no doubt who the three men were either.

   I pulled a couple dozen stills off the video and sent them to Cleo Toms.
I heard back from him in less than a day of his return from out of town.  I
had FedEx deliver him a copy of the video and that made a believer out of
Mister Toms.  He agreed to back off of the Morrison Agency and to leave
Keri Morrison alone.

   Almost everybody was happy.  Fred Morrison was tickled pink and rewarded
me with a nice bonus.  Keri was happy and she rewarded me with some pussy.
Gina was the happiest of all and she was very generous with her pussy.

   Almost two weeks later there was an awful gun fight.  The cops thought
at first it was a drug deal gone bad, but when Cleo Toms' body was
identified it threw them a curve.  None of the dead and hurt were known
drug dealers.  Otis Strickland and Mark Bigalow were also among the dead.
James Hitson, street name Slick and another man as yet unidentified were
seriously hurt in the shoot-out.  Neither are talking about what happened.

   That bit of news made Gina even happier and she showed me just how happy
she was.  I never pass that alley beside the desert Rose without thinking
about Arnie whacking on Mark Bigalow's head.  Yeah, I see Ann Billings from
time to time.  I know Mookie sees her a lot.  Same with Kari Morrison. 
Sometimes life is just too good.
   The end.  

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