Downfall

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

This story is sexually explicit and contains scenes of a sexual nature involving a woman and two men. There is light male/male sexual involvement. If you are offended by explicit sexual subject matter, or are under 18, please consider yourself completely warned as to what you are about to read. This is a story based on the characters Pik VanCleef and Emil Fouchon of the movie Hard Target. It is also based on a friend's theory that the two characters were, well, not entirely of this world. The usual copyright stuff about the characters not being of my making; I am merely borrowing them, and any embellishment is entirely unauthorized and on my own.

Downfall, Part I

I looked in the mirror as I walked into the bar. I didn't look half bad, if I did say so myself. Long black hair, a face more than passably pretty, and generous lips. I think it's my lips that have gotten me into so much trouble. Men seem to think lips like mine are an open invitation to shove their cock in between them. Not that I mind, with the right man.

But nothing irritates me more than getting hit on by some sorry looking guy with no money. I hate wasting my time.

I took a look around. I hadn't been in this place in a long time.

I kinda liked to make the rounds. I'd have a favorite bar for a while, hang out a little bit, then move on to some new joint. Some nights I was in the mood for a hard rock club, other nights I wanted to listen to some jazz. There was nothin' like good jazz in New Orleans on a hot summer night. And maybe a good looking man to take home.

Now, I'm not a professional or anything; I just like to have a good time. I've found that having the same man around every night can get to be kinda boring. Like they say, variety is the spice of life! My mama says I need to grow up, but I say that if growing up means staying home with a bunch of babies, dirty diapers, and Billy Bob snoring in the chair, well, I'll just stay young a while longer.

I walked up to the bar and ordered myself a drink. From previous experience, I knew that I probably wouldn't be buying any more. I never got any more than halfway through my first drink when someone would come up and buy me another. I made a deal with myself that the first time I ever made my way through an entire drink (well, maybe two) without someone coming up to introduce themselves, well, that's the night I'd hang it up. I love the nightlife and I love taking men home and getting a good fuck and then kicking them out the next morning. But I'll be damned if I end up one of those old boozy broads that end up hanging out 'til closing time waiting to be some sorry loser's bottom-of-the-barrel last choice.

I turned around, my back to the bar, and took a good look around. Well, there were a few possibilities. Nothing spectacular, but I'd had worse. There was a promising looking blond over there playing pool. Then I noticed he was with a chick. Damn! I made it a point never to play around with something belonging to another woman. There were too many damned men in the world to get into a big hassle over just one.

Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to the front door. A man had just come in that definitely made me take a second look. He wasn't the handsomest man I had ever seen, but, God, he had an air about him. He looked like he had money, too. I sucked in my stomach and pushed my chest out just a little bit more. Not that I really needed it; I had a hell of a figure. But some things you just do automatically.

He looked over the room, just like I imagine I had looked it over, checking out the possibilities. His eyes lit on me, and for a moment I felt a cold chill pass over me. He checked me out, up and down, and then looked back into my face and gave me a small, cold smile. Then he came into the bar.

I turned back around to the bar. For some reason, I didn't think I wanted him to notice me again. I didn't understand it, but I felt like I should leave and just go home.

My people come from deep in the bayou, and they have superstitions. Guess growing up around that kind of thing rubs off on you, even if you really don't believe in it. I hated it. My folks left the swamp, and we hadn't gone back, but I didn't want anyone to ever pick up the smell of it on me. I never let anybody meet my mama, because they'd know. She had swamp written all over her. I laughed at her ignorant superstitions, and I flaunted them. I remember once I dropped a whole trayful of silverware, and then I told her she better go out and get some more food, because she didn't have enough for all the people that were going to be coming over. She didn't find it funny, and said that one day I'd come to a bad end if I didn't listen to those who were wiser than me.

I was still wrestling between what my brain was telling me and what that little knot of fear in my stomach was saying, when I felt a presence beside me. I didn't even have to look, because my stomach knew exactly who it was.

He spoke to the bartender. "Give the lady another one." He had an odd accent; I couldn't quite place it. 'Course I hadn't been around very much outside of New Orleans, either.

As the bartender placed another glass in front of me, I had the odd feeling that to accept this drink would be to accept a whole can of worms that I didn't want anything to do with. I looked up at the man and said, "Thank you, but I was just going home." I grabbed my purse and turned to leave, but was stopped by his hand gripping my arm.

Outraged, I whirled around to give him a piece of my mind, but before I could say anything he said evenly, "Stay."

I looked into his face, fully intending to challenge him, but for some reason I wasn't able to. His eyes caught me and I felt like a rabbit before a snake. I found I couldn't look away. I was fascinated; could almost feel the electricity crackling between us. Almost involuntarily, I sat back down again. Then he looked away, but not before I heard him make a small amused sound of triumph.

He ordered himself a drink and I picked mine up to take several steadying gulps. As the fiery liquid burned down into my stomach, I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. It's not like I was an inexperienced woman. I've faced down a lot of men who were getting too fresh.

I looked at him. Not bad looking at all, though I suppose it had more to do with that magnetic quality of his than his looks. He felt powerful, dangerous. I shivered slightly. 'Someone's walking on my grave,' I thought. Then I cursed myself, and my damned superstitious upbringing. I took another drink.

I started to feel a little bit tipsy. He was just sitting there, drink in hand, and it seemed a little odd. Well, I've always been a friendly girl, and the liquor helped me to shove those funny thoughts about him to the back of my mind. "What's your name?" I asked him. He looked at me, and then took a deep drink out of his glass. He set it down and then said, "Pik."

'What an odd name,' I thought. I would never have said it, but he looked at me and smiled slightly like he knew what I was thinking. Then he turned back to his drink. Feeling a little uncomfortable, I tried again. "Where are you from? I can't place your accent."

Again that mysterious smile. "I come from all over." Then he began playing with his glass, running his finger around the rim. I watched for a moment, almost hypnotized, then shook myself. This guy was an odd one, no doubt, but he absolutely stank of money. I've always been fascinated by dangerous types. For me, that usually meant ex-convicts and bikers. Oh, I've done more than my time with dull, rich bankers and businessmen, because I can come off like Queen Elizabeth when I've a mind to, but those dangerous men just did little squirmy things to my stomach. In this man I could have the best of both worlds if I played my cards right.

"You wanna dance?" I generally don't ask, since the men usually do the askin, but this guy didn't seem like he was the type to ask for anything. Looking straight ahead, he took another sip from his drink before answering. "No, I think it's about time we left."

I didn't think I had heard him right. "Left? For where?"

He looked at me now, a short measured glance, and smiled slightly.

"I think you can figure it out."

Well, this was a bit too much. I stood up suddenly, and the room spun. "I don't know how things work where you come from, or maybe you're just used to women falling all over you, but it doesn't work that way with me." The alcohol I'd been swigging suddenly came home to roost, and I swayed slightly on my high heels. With a knowing smile, Pik took my arm and steadied me. The firm pressure of his fingers burned into my flesh, and the thought of his fingers elsewhere on my bare skin flashed through my mind. I snatched my arm away from him and grabbed onto the back of the barstool. I glared at him, and was rewarded by another one of his slight smiles.

"You didn't come here to find a man for the night, then?"

The reddening of my face gave lie to the words I spoke then. "Of course not!! A woman can go out for a drink and it doesn't mean that she wants to get fucked!! Maybe I felt like sitting here and having a drink or two! It's not a crime!"

He drew close to me then, too quickly for me to react, and his lips whispered into my ear, "Oh, I know you, you came here looking for someone to take you home and fuck you. And now you've found someone, but I think maybe I'm too much man for you, yes?" I'm not sure if it was the liquor, but my knees started to grow weak, and my mind grew even fuzzier. Much as I wanted to pull away from his voice hissing into my ear, I found I couldn't.

"I know you want me to take you, rip those silk panties off you and fuck you. Would you like me to do it right here?" I pulled back and looked at him, startled, and he smiled at me, and there was more than a hint of the predator in his face. I believed he would do me right there at the bar. The thought brought a feeling to my stomach like I'd been dropped from a cliff. I caught my breath. A mental image came to mind, me sitting up on the barstool, my legs spread wide, skirt hiked up to my hips. This man standing in front of me, pants undone, with his cock poised to enter me. In my mind, he smiled that cold smile of his and slowly slid it in. I moaned, and his quiet chuckle brought me back to my senses. I looked over into the bar mirror, and saw myself, face flushed, lips parted and wet. I grew angry at myself. No wonder he laughed! What I wanted was written all over my face!

I turned back to him and drew my hand back to smack him, but before my palm reached its mark, he caught my hand in a crushing grip. I nearly sank to my knees from the pain of it. "Not a good idea," he informed me. He rolled my knuckles slowly for a moment. I was about to scream in pain when he let go and said, "Now, turn around and finish your drink."

I shakily turned back around to the bar, hoping like hell I hadn't got myself into something I couldn't get out of. I'd known my share of mean men, men who got angry, and shouted and even hit. But this one seemed so cold about it; calm and almost casual. Where other men would burn you in the heat of their passion, this one could freeze you with his chilling cruelty.

I picked up the fresh drink that had somehow appeared in front of me, and took a sip. I didn't know whether I should try to keep what little wits I had left about me, or drink myself into oblivion. Until I made up my mind, I would just nurse my drink along.

Pik moved directly behind me and pressed up against me. He reached past, and picked up his own drink. My eyes met his in the mirror and I couldn't pull my gaze from his. After taking a sip, he set his drink back down on the bar, and then began stroking my hair. He pulled it to one side and began lightly stroking my neck. Then his other hand joined in, both lightly stroking my neck. His touch became a little firmer, and it felt like a symbolic strangling. Once again, I got one of those shivers from nowhere that you got when someone was "walking on your grave".

My eyes hadn't left his, and now I saw the amusement in his face again. The man seemed to have a perpetual smile in his eyes, and hovering about his lips, but it sure wasn't a nice sight. It was like he knew something that no one else did, and it didn't bode well. Like everyone else was a lab rat living on borrowed time, and he couldn't wait for the scientist to come in and snuff us out in some mighty creative ways.

I broke his gaze and mentally shook myself. This was getting ridiculous. He was only a man, a very intriguing man, and I was drunk. That was it. Defiantly, as if giving the proverbial finger to the fears that had been running through my mind, I picked up my glass and drank deeply. I downed the drink smoothly, then slammed it down onto the bar. Then I looked up into the mirror to glare into his eyes. He answered the challenge in my eyes with a chuckle.

He picked up his drink again, and pressed into me even harder. I felt his hard-on against my spine. Again, my stomach dipped crazily, and I could feel a tingle between my legs.

As we stared at each other in the mirror, I suddenly felt my dress being pulled up. My eyes widened in shock, and my hands went down to pull it back down. "Uh-uh," he said, and shook his head at me. As I looked around the bar in the mirror to see if anyone was watching, I felt his fingers slip between my legs and begin stroking my pussy lips through my silk underwear. I wondered how he had known that they were silk. Actually, he was only half right, because I was wearing a g-string with my garters and stockings.

Shakily, with forced casualness, I reached for my drink, only to find it empty. Damn! His finger stroking me was driving me mad. I could feel my pussy lips swelling up, and I knew he could feel the wetness of me through the fabric. Between his fingers and the alcohol, I felt like I was on the verge of losing control of myself. I looked at myself in the mirror. But for a little flushing of my face and some brightness in my eyes, I looked pretty normal.

Then I felt the shock of his finger slipping underneath the fabric to gently stroke my pussy. Oh, God, it felt good. I closed my eyes in bliss. He was stroking so lightly that I could barely feel it, but that only made it all the more pleasurable. I wanted, ached, for more, but I couldn't have it. Not right now. Suddenly I was more than willing to leave with him.

"You said it was time we left?" I gasped.

"No, I think we should maybe stay a while longer."

"You're joking!" I croaked.

"No, I never joke. We're staying." With that, he quickly slid two of his fingers into my vagina and out again. In pleasure and surprise I gaspd, rather loudly.

The bartender looked up from the drink he was preparing to regard Pik with suspicion. "You okay, miss?"

I swallowed, tried to get control of my voice before answering. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just had a little too much to drink, I guess."

"She's fine," Pik added coldly. "You worry about getting us another drink, and let me worry about my date, little man."

The bartender looked at Pik for another moment, then deciding that whatever was going on was none of his business anyway, went about getting more drinks. I felt a strange feeling of pride. People wouldn't mess with this man. And I was the woman with him.

Suddenly, I was jerked out of my thoughts by Pik's delicately questing fingers once again. He knew just how to touch a woman. If I had been alone with him, I would have been coming unglued. As it was, my breathing was getting a bit ragged. It was taking all my self control to try to look like nothing was happening. My wilder side was beginning to tell me that we could get away with doing it right here in the bar. I squirmed against him, feeling his cock throb in response.

My eyes were getting a bit glassy, and my lips were parted. Anyone looking at me would know something was going on, but I was past caring. The bartender arrived with our drinks, not looking at us, but sort of sliding them in our direction, and then leaving to tend to some other customer. Just as well, I didn't want to be bothered with speaking with the man, even to say thank you. The only thing I was concerned with was the feel of Pik's cock in my back, and his fingers playing in my crotch.

"You look a bit uncomfortable, luv. Are you alright?" I looked up in the mirror at Pik's not-quite-smiling face. I thought, 'no, I'm not comfortable, my pussy lips are swollen and aching, and I want your cock inside me. I want to get the hell out of here and fuck you until I can't stand up.' I didn't say any of that. Between the drinks and the wonderful, horrible ache between my legs, I didn't trust my tongue to speak. I just said, "Please?"

Pik's not-smile widened into as genuine a smile as would probably ever be seen on his face. Not pleasant, but still and all, actual delight. "I take it you'd like to leave now? When not so long ago, you only wanted to stay? Indeed, were insulted at the very idea of us leaving together?"

All I could do was nod my head, eyes begging.

As if in answer, his two fingers entered my vagina again, slowly, deeply. His thumb began gently stroking my clitoris. I wanted badly to spread my legs as widely as I could, but circumstances only allowed me to put one of my feet up on the footbar than ran along the bottom of the counter. I pushed my hips forward as far as possible, trying to take in even more of his questing fingers. My hips began to gyrate back and forth instinctively. My fingers tightly gripped the bar, and I wanted nothing more than to spread my legs and take this man inside of me to the hilt. I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm, and I was hoping that I'd be able to contain myself, when he stopped.

I looked at his face in the mirror, my eyes pleading with him. He said to me, "If I decide to take you home," ('Oh, God, not if, I prayed') there are some stipulations." He paused, and picked up his drink with his free hand. The other hand had gone back to carelessly stroking me. I squirmed some more, aching for him to let me cum. He took a drink and then set it down, and looked at me. "I have a friend who may want to take part. I share everything with him, and you would be included in that. Secondly," and at this point his eyes burned into me, and I knew he was deadly serious, "you will keep quiet about your little adventure with us. We like to keep an extremely low profile. If I find you've been discussing us, I will pay you a visit, and it won't be a very pleasant one."

"Well?" he looked at me.

At this point I was so crazed with drink and lust that I would make a deal with the devil to get this man's cock into me, so I nodded, and said in a hoarse voice, "Yes."

"Ah, good," he smiled at me. "Well, as soon as we finish our drinks, let's be on our way." I nodded in agreement. "But first," he said, "I think we need to cool you down. It is going to be a long night, after all." With that, he reached into his glass and took out an ice cube. Before it fully registered with me, he had the ice cube in his other hand, stroking me with it. The shock of it made me want to cry out

His hand came to the back of my neck and squeezed, while the other one was running the ice cube all over my private parts. "Ssssh," he hissed, "don't want to call attention to ourselves, do we?" He put the ice cube up my vagina, and fucked me with it a few times, then he took what was left and pressed it up tight against my clit. I'd never felt anything like it before. It was an incredible turn-on as well as being almost physically painful.

"You're a horny little fucking bitch, aren't you?" Beyond caring about much of anything but my crotch, I nodded my head. "Now, tell me the truth, or I'll leave you here just like this. You did come here looking to get fucked tonight, didn't you?" Again, I nodded my head. He laughed, a dry chuckle. "Well, looks like you're going to get quite a bit more than you bargained for, eh?"

Again, that warning shiver shot up my back. But I was way beyond the point of being able to listen to it.

From: mschains@aol.com (Ms Chains) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Downfall, Part II (Fan Fic, f/m, light m/m) Date: 3 Jul 1995 02:07:57 -0400

This story is sexually explicit and contains scenes of a sexual nature involving a woman and two men. There is light male/male sexual involvement. If you are offended by explicit sexual subject matter, or are under 18, please consider yourself completely warned as to what you are about to read. This is a story based on the characters Pik VanCleef and Emil Fouchon of the movie Hard Target. It is also based on a friend's theory that the two characters were, well, not entirely of this world. The usual copyright stuff about the characters not being of my making; I am merely borrowing them, and any embellishment is entirely unauthorized and on my own.

Downfall, Part II

In the car on the way to his place, he allowed me to take his cock out and suck on it. What a large, glorious prick. I licked it and nibbled on it lightly with my teeth. I wanted badly for him to pull over and give it to me right up my wet aching cunt, but this man had an iron will. He was hard as a rock, but he didn't seem to be ruled by his cock like most men were. I've had men sobbing like babies, begging for me to let them cum. This man would never do any such thing. I was fascinated with him.

I have no idea how long we were in the car, but after a while we pulled up into a large, tree lined drive, and parked in a circular driveway. I noted somewhere in the back of my mind that this was a fabulously old and expensive house, and wondered what this man's story was. 'Better to not even think of that,' I told myself. 'You know that whatever it is, it's no doubt illegal, so just keep your nose out of it."

He parked the car, and as we got out, he straightened out his clothing and then said to me, "The dress."

I looked at him, in confusion, "Excuse me?"

"The dress. Take it off."

"But...."

"Trust me. You won't be needing it. Plus, I have a feeling my friend would like it if you came in wearing only those naughty underthings."

So, I took off the dress. Underneath I was wearing a black push-up bra, black g-string and garter belt, with black stockings. I was wishing that I'd worn something a little bit flashier, but noticed Pik's all-black style, and decided that we were quite a matched set.

We went up the staircase, and through the door. When we got into the foyer, Pik told me to stay there, and not to come in until he called me. With that, he went into the house.

Someone was playing the piano somewhere in the house. 'Must be Pik's mysterious friend,' I thought. Beautiful music, even though I wasn't into classical. There was an almost hypnotic effect to it. I shook myself and looked around the room.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the large mirror and went to take a closer look. If I did say so, I looked really good. I wished I had some lipstick, but I'd left my purse in the car. So, I bit my lips in the time-honored fashion to give them some color. Checked myself out, front and back, to make sure everything looked good. I straightened out my stockings a bit, but other than that, everything looked fine. I didn't think Pik and his friend would be disappointed.

I'd been pretty wild, but I'd never done two men at a time. I was really nervous, but also excited in a way. I wondered what Pik's friend was like. Well, even if he turned out to be a total washout, Pik would be well worth it.

Then I heard my summons. "Come on out here, luv." With a final look in the mirror, and a flip of my hair, I walked out of the foyer. There was a large hallway that was darkened, and then to the right of it a room which was filled with light. I headed for that room.

As I entered the room, the first thing to catch my attention was the huge piano in it. Then I noticed Pik standing in the corner, his dark slash of black standing out in the white room.

Lastly, I saw the man sitting at the piano, his back to it. He had a rough face, yet oddly, cultured as well. This man wore his clothes exquisitely, and he had an air not unlike Pik's. Although, I had to say, Pik seemed diminished next to this man, almost subservient in a way. No, that wasn't the right word. They seemed to be equal, but the man at the piano was just more equal.

The man at the piano bench was looking me over, up and down. "A very good choice, Pik," he said. His voice was fascinating. He didn't have an accent, but it was a very gravelly, sexy voice.

Pik left the corner he was standing in. He walked past me, to stand next to the man at the bench. He smiled at the man, a knowing, cruel smile. Together, in silence, they looked at me. I grew nervous, but tried not to show it. I simply looked back at them.

After a few minutes of this, Pik walked slowly towards me, and then around me, studying my body. He came up close behind me and ran his finger down my back, all the way down to where my g-string disappeared in the crack of my ass. His finger hovered there for a moment, and then he traced the cleft of my ass lightly, and ran his finger in between my legs.

He rubbed me lightly, just once, and the waves of passion I'd been experiencing most of the night came back. I could feel my pussy lips swelling up again. I definitely had the female equivalent of blue balls. I needed to come soon. But I also was in no real hurry; somehow I knew it would be worth the wait. I felt Pik's lips next to my ear. "His name is Mr. Fouchon. He might think you're impolite if you don't go and say hello to him." With that, he gave me a light shove towards the man. Mr. Fouchon.

Uncertain of what was expected of me, I walked forward slowly. When I stood before Mr. Fouchon he looked past me at Pik. "How is she with her mouth?" he asked. I didn't hear the answer, but evidently Pik replied in some way, because Mr. Fouchon said, "Really?" kind of like he was impressed. I had to admit, I've always been a world class cock sucker. These lips of mine, you see. I always had plenty of practice.

Anyway, after the exchange between them, Mr. Fouchon looked up at me from where he sat on the piano bench and said, "Suck my cock."

The words he spoke gave me an electric tingle that zapped me right in the crotch. I'd never been spoken to like this by a total stranger, who obviously expected me to comply. I wondered what would happen if I said no, and decided it probably wouldn't be pleasant. Anyway, I really wanted to. I recalled Pik's sweet smelling freshly washed cock, and felt another stabbing ache in my swollen pussy lips.

I got down on my knees before Mr. Fouchon, and unzipped his pants to free his cock. He was only partially erect, but that's the way I like them. It feels wonderful when they grow and harden in your mouth. He was relaxed back against the piano, and I looked at his glorious cock. I never get tired of looking at cocks. Or tasting them. My mouth came down on him, and I began to vacuum suck it. I sucked it like a baby sucking on a bottle. Sure enough, it began to get hard.

After he was fully erect, I took it out of my mouth and began to lightly lick it, the length of it and the rim of his head. I looked up at him and rubbed his cock all over my face. Then I went down on him, taking him all the way in. A quick little suck, and then back to licking his prick like a lollipop.

They always hate it when you tease them by taking their cock all the way in. They think they're going to be getting a good face-fuck, but you take it back out of your mouth and start licking and nibbling on them again. You gotta work them up to it, so that they're ready to explode and then you go down on them. They hate it, but they love it, too.

I heard a little growl come out of Mr. Fouchon's mouth. He put his hand on my head, and tried to push it down on him. I pulled back and took my mouth off of his cock. I looked up at him with a certain amount of attitude, and he looked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I shook my head and smiled at him. He looked over at Pik, and I heard a chuckle come from the other side of the room. Mr. Fouchon looked back at me and sat back, eyes somewhat narrowed.

Since he wasn't moving, I took it that he had decided to do things my way. Once again, I began to play with his cock, exploring it with my lips and tongue, finding out what he liked best from his body reactions. I played with his balls with my other hand. I sucked him slowly and then faster, until he was on the verge of an orgasm, and then I stopped. He groaned softly, but I knew he could handle it. I brought him to the verge one more time, and then I knew he wouldn't stand for much more of this. His balls were tight and rock hard. I knew he was aching something fierce. I decided to give him his release.

I began to go down on him, faster, and I guess he wanted to make sure that I was through playing with him, because he grabbed my head tightly with his hands and plunged my face up and down on his cock. He was making guttural moans, and I was incredibly turned on by the sound of this man getting off. I could feel my juices running down the inside of my thighs, I was so wet.

My jaws were aching, and I was hoping he was almost through, because it was getting a little bit hard to breathe. Then he shoved my face down, and stiffened, and I could feel his cum explode into my mouth. I heard a loud, strangled cry of ecstasy, and I reveled in the fact that I had brought this man so much pleasure. I began to swallow, and I readied myself for the rest of it. He pulled my face up off his cock and then plunged it down again, and I again swallowed everything he gave me. I began to lightly suck on him until he was finished cumming.

He collapsed back against the piano, and I collapsed against his knees. We stay there for a few moments, panting, and then I murmured, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fouchon." He made a small sound of amusement, and said, "Please, call me Fouchon. Mr. seems a little formal under the circumstances." Then he let out a short, harsh laugh, and said, "Very well done, Pik! You've outdone yourself in picking this one!" He straightened himself out, and then stood up, and gave me a hand to my feet as well. "Get her a drink, will you Pik? Something cold."

As Pik went to do his bidding, Fouchon walked over to the window and looked out into the night. I stood there, uncertainly, until Pik returned and handed me a glass. He gave me a very odd look, one almost of resentment.

"Drink up, luv, because I'm next," he said harshly, then took his customary place against the wall.

"Pik, Pik, let the girl rest a while first." Fouchon said. "After all, you can relate personally to how tired she is."

He walked over and dimmed the lights. I suddenly noticed that there was a fire in the fireplace. Which was very odd for this time of year; but I liked the atmosphere it provided. I was glad to be rid of the stark whiteness of the walls; they had been almost blindingly bright. Now there were shadows leaping and dancing on the walls. I was mesmerized by them for a moment, and then I thought about what I had just heard Fouchon say. I wondered what he had meant by that statement. Surely these two weren't.....Nah, couldn't be. I put my strange thoughts from my mind, and looked over at Pik. He was watching me with an unfathomable expression on his face. His eyes were like two cold black stones, and the firelight playing on his face made him look like a funhouse demon. I shivered inwardly, and then decided that I had better go make nice.

I turned to him, and pressed myself against him. He smelled good, and my nostrils flared. "Yesssss," I whispered, "you're next, but my jaw's achin'. Why don't you finish what you started back there in the bar?"

"You want to fuck me, do you?"

Looking into his eyes, I nodded my head. I reached down to his prick and gave it a gentle squeeze. It jumped slightly in response. His eyes narrowed, and I felt the cruelty he was capable of.

He cupped my face in his hands, and stroked my cheek. Then he lightly ran his fingers down my throat to the curve of my shoulder and then to my breast. He dipped his finger into the cup of my bra and lightly rubbed my nipple. It puckered up and then and I moaned with pleasure. Then he pinched it tightly. I felt the blood drain from my face, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. A pleased expression came over his face, and then with one final, painful squeeze, he let go.

He turned his back on me and then joined Fouchon on a very old looking backless sofa. He looked at me for a moment, and then said, "Why don't you finish what I started in the bar?" He leaned against the side of the sofa, picked up his drink, and took a deep swallow from the glass. "You pleased him, now we want to watch you please yourself."

I looked at Fouchon, who was expressionless, and then back to Pik, who merely had that superior little smirk on his face. I started to get angry. I'd been gotten horny by this bastard and kept horny most of the night. I'd gone as far as he had let me, I'd gotten his friend off in a big way, and now I was supposed to get myself off too? Well, fine. I'd give them a show they'd never forget. I'd let them know that I didn't need some stupid man to get my rocks off for me.

I went over and got my drink. I took several angry swigs of it, and then set it down, a little harder than was strictly necessary, on an expensive looking table. Remembering Pik and the ice cube in the bar, I took one out of my glass and put it in my mouth. I sucked on it a little bit, and then I let it slide out of my mouth into my fingers. I ran it down my throat, and in between my breasts. I thought back to Pik standing behind me at the bar, with his fingers stroking my clit. I got hotter thinking about it, and I started to feel the throb in my pussy again. I slowly removed my bra, and ran the melting ice cube over my nipples. The water running down my body shone off my glowing skin in the firelight. It traced a path down to my garter belt where it soaked into the fabric.

I got down on my knees, upright, and spread my thighs wide open. I caressed and played with my nipples for a few more minutes, watching the men watching me. I ran my fingers over the insides of my thighs and then I grasped the front of my g-string and pulled it up tight so that it bisected my pussy lips. I writhed in front of them as they watched me and I got even hornier by their complete lack of reaction. I pulled the fabric back and forth, and it soon glistened with my juices. I wanted more direct contact, so I lay on my back and removed my g-string. I pointed my legs straight up, giving the men a fine view of my ass and pussy as I removed the piece of clothing. When I had pulled it down (up?) to my ankles, I flung it off my foot. It landed about a foot away from the sofa the men were sitting on.

Keeping his eyes on me, Fouchon bent forward and picked up my undergarment. He brought it to his face to smell my scent. Watching him do that got me even hornier. Looking him in the eyes, I spread my legs wide and began to play with myself. My fingers slid up and down my wet pussy, and then I parted my lips with my other fingers to get better access to my clit. I closed my eyes and began to really get into it. I could have made myself cum quickly, but I wanted to make it last.

After a few minutes, I opened my eyes to look at them again. Pik leaned over towards Fouchon, who was still holding my wet g-string. Fouchon lifted it up, so Pik could also enjoy the scent of it. Then Pik put his mouth on the older man's ear and licked it. Fouchon closed his eyes in pleasure, and groaned.

I was so surprised, I almost forgot all about myself. But, incredibly, I was also very turned on by it. Pik began to kiss Fouchon's neck, and to unbutton his shirt. He kissed his chest, all the way down to the waistband of his pants, and then removed Fouchon's shirt. The man had a very wiry build, not a bit of fat on him from what I could see. Then Pik got down in front of the man on his knees just as I had just done and unzipped him and sprang his cock free as I had done. I watched while Pik began sucking the man's cock. My hands dropped away from my crotch, and I watched, incredibly aroused as Fouchon pumped Pik's head up and down on his cock.

Fouchon opened his eyes and they blazed into mine. "Come here," he rasped.

I stood up, and walked over to the sofa, where I sat down next to him. He leaned over to me, and put his hand behind my neck. He pulled my face over and gave me a deep kiss. He slipped his tongue between my parted lips, and I took it eagerly. His other hand lightly caressed my breast, the one that Pik had pinched so brutally. He teased it lightly, and then his fingers traced a path to my crotch. His fingers, light as breath, tickled my pussy.

My breathing became ragged, and I pulled at his hair. I wanted him so badly. Or Pik. I didn't care at that point. Someone had to fuck me. I don't think I'd ever been in such need of a man's cock in me as I was that night. I had been played with, teased, brought to the edge, and I couldn't stand it any more.

I spoke against his lips, like a mantra, "Please, please, please, please, please!"

"Please what?" he growled.

"I need it, oh please I need it so bad." I practically began sobbing in frustration. "I ache so bad, and I need...."

"Sshhhh," he whispered. "We'll take care of you." With that, he pulled his fingers away from my sopping pussy and brought them to my lips.

I opened my mouth and took his fingers in. I sucked on them, tasting myself. I moaned loudly, and kissed him again. I began sucking on his tongue, and after a moment he pulled away from me with a loud groan . "Pik!" he said loudly.

Pik took his mouth away from Fouchon's cock, and looked up. "Pik," Fouchon said raggedly. "I want to watch you fuck her."

With a look of regret at the other man's cock, which was even then being tucked back into Fouchon's pants, Pik then looked up at me. He stood up, and I did too. He began to disrobe, and we stared into each other's eyes. Scenes from earlier in the night flashed before my eyes, and I swallowed. My mouth suddenly seemed dry.

In a moment, Pik stood before me mother-naked, and I thought I hadn't seen many men as fine looking as he was. He had broad shoulders, a very powerful body, and this wonderful mat of hair on his chest that traveled down his stomach in a "path to heaven" which led to his glorious stiff cock. I stood there for a moment, appreciating his tightly muscled body, and then Fouchon spoke up.

"Would you be more comfortable without all that?"

I tore my eyes away from Pik's body to look at him. He was gesturing at my garter and stockings. For a moment, I just stared at him, and then I came to my senses. "Oh, yes..." I answered distractedly.

"Pik?" Fouchon said, "If you would....?"

Pik came to me and knelt in front of me to deftly unfasten my stockings. I lightly kicked my high heels off, and I hadn't realized how much my feet had been hurting until all of a sudden they felt so much better. Soon my garter and stockings joined my shoes in a careless pile on the floor.

Pik stood up again, and we stood together in the firelight, Fouchon watching us closely. Pik's eyes stared into mine, and in the dim light they looked like two bottomless holes. I knew that for whatever reason he was angry with me, and I felt an answering anger in myself. I was through being molded and shaped by this man. I wanted him to fuck me and I was going to take charge. I reached over and took his cock in my hand, and I felt the pulse in it throbbing. I lightly traced it with my fingers, enjoying the juxtaposition of the softness of his skin and the hardness of what lie beneath. I remembered the feel of it in my mouth, and realized that soon I'd have that wonderful tool of his pounding inside of me. A soft moan escaped my lips.

Pik smiled at me, a smile devoid of all humor. Then suddenly, he grabbed me tightly to him, and his mouth came down on mine. If he thought to scare me with his passion, he was way off base, because I was more than ready for the rough stuff. I wanted to get flat-out fucked. I tore my lips from his and my teeth came down on his shoulder. I bit, licked and sucked my way down his wonderful chest, until I was on my knees before him. I encircled his stiff cock with one hand, tightly pumping it, while I put my mark on his inner thigh.

Suddenly, I felt his hand in my hair, ripping my head back. He flung me away from him and I landed on my back on the floor. He looked down at me, and I spread my legs wide and bent my knees. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him. "Remember in the bar you said you were too much man for me? Come here and see if you can fucking prove it." Amusement glinted in his eyes, and I exploded. I was sick and tired of that damn look on his face.

"You cock-sucking son of a bitch!" I got to my feet and got up in his face. "Who the fuck are you with that Goddamned superior fucking look on your face all the time?" At this point I was nearly screaming at him, "You quit wasting my Goddamned time, and get over here and fuck me or go back over there and suck his cock some more while I go find somebody who can get me off!" I think at that point I really lost my mind, because I hauled off and slapped him. I saw his face turn deadly, and he started forward.

From: mschains@aol.com (Ms Chains) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Downfall Part III (Fan Fic, f/m, light m/m) Date: 3 Jul 1995 02:12:53 -0400

This story is sexually explicit and contains scenes of a sexual nature involving a woman and two men. There is light male/male sexual involvement. If you are offended by explicit sexual subject matter, or are under 18, please consider yourself completely warned as to what you are about to read. This is a story based on the characters Pik VanCleef and Emil Fouchon of the movie Hard Target. It is also based on a friend's theory that the two characters were, well, not entirely of this world. The usual copyright stuff about the characters not being of my making; I am merely borrowing them, and any embellishment is entirely unauthorized and on my own.

Downfall, Part III

Then I heard Fouchon's voice roar out, "Pik!"

Pik stopped short, and he stood there, hate streaming from his eyes. He would be willing to rip my throat out, and as I watched his powerful hands clenching, I knew he was more than able. Only Fouchon stood between me and death, or at best, a horrible beating.

Fouchon crossed the room and stood in front of Pik. "I never thought I'd see you lose control of a woman. A WOMAN, Pik!! Now, you go over there and pour yourself a drink, while I do your job for you."

With a final hate-filled glance in my direction, Pik crossed the room and got a drink. He went to the window with it and stood there; looking out. His body was stiff with rage.

Then Fouchon turned to me. He looked at me for a moment, and then too quickly for me to react, he backhanded me. I slammed up against the wall, and lost my balance. I would have fallen, but Fouchon brutally grabbed my arm. I knew that there would be bruises there the next day. He pulled me to him, tightly, and for a moment his face contorted with rage. Then his features cleared.

He hissed with a horrible deadly menace, "That was a very stupid thing to do! If you knew who you just hit, you would pray to every god in the universe to save you." His voice turned suddenly gentle, and he stroked my face where a bruise was already beginning to swell. "Ah, foolish woman, pray all you want to; it's much too late for anyone to save you."

Then he roughly shoved me to the ground, and his hands went to his zipper and his freed cock sprang out, fully erect. I looked up into his face, and I don't know if it was the shadows and the alcohol, or what, but I saw an expression of pure hateful malice cross his face. It chilled me to the bone, and I began to back away from him.

I backed into something solid, and I looked up to see Pik grinning down at me. I leapt to my feet, hoping to run away, but I was at a disadvantage. Pik caught me, and I struggled against him. Suddenly, he threw me to the ground, and the air whooshed out of my lungs.

While I lay there, trying to catch my breath, Fouchon tore my legs apart and placed the head of his cock near my pussy. Though I struggled, he held on to my thighs tightly, and teased my pussy with his cock. He smiled when he saw how much I wanted it. As I tried to impale myself on him, he pulled back, and then inserted just the tip inside of me. I lay there, gathering my strength, aching with need, and hoping, praying that he would give me the rest of it. When he didn't, I surged up with my hips, trying to force it in. Again, he pulled back.

I was mad with lust. I sat up and tried to strike him for teasing me like he was. My fear had been shoved to the back of my mind, my need was first and foremost. But Pik was still standing above us, and he saw my intent and grabbed a handful of my hair to pull me back. He kneeled down beside me, and pulled my head back painfully tight. He looked in my face for a moment, and then ran his tongue up my throat to my ear. While he began nibbling on my ear, Fouchon once again began masturbating me with the velvety soft tip of that marvelous cock of his. Then Pik kissed me, and began tongue-fucking my mouth. I eagerly sucked on it, and tears of frustration began running down my face. "I'm sorry, please, help me. I am soooo sorry, forgive me, I'll never do it again," I sobbed.

"Oh, luv, I don't know. It was a very serious thing, what you did. I think maybe I should just put you back in the car and take you home now. You aren't playing very nice, after all," he crooned into my ear.

"No! No, please, just fuck me, please, that's all I want, baby, just put that big cock of yours inside me and fuck me. I'm dying. Please." They couldn't leave me like this anymore, I needed relief. I would say or do anything for them.

"I don't know, what do you think, Emil?" he asked. I could hear the amusement in his voice. "Do you think she'll behave now?"

I lay there panting. "I'll be good, I promise. No more hitting. I'll do anything you want me to. Please," I begged them.

Then I heard Fouchon's husky voice. "Anything we want? That sounds like a tempting offer." He smiled at Pik. "Do you have anything we might want?"

I looked at him in confusion. "Just myself," I answered.

"Ah, your body," Fouchon replied. "But I can have that right now if I want to." To prove his point, he stabbed me lightly with his cock. I shivered with anticipated ecstasy. "But what else is there? What about your soul?"

"My soul?" I asked him "Are you kidding?"

Pik and Fouchon exchanged a look. "Maybe I am, maybe not," he replied. "But do you really want to take a chance? You said that you would give us anything we want if we.....ease your discomfort. I have said that I want your soul. We strike a bargain, and...." he pulled back and placed his mouth on my pussy. He lapped up my juices, and sent me skyrocketing towards ecstasy. Then he stopped, and said, "But on the other hand, if there is no bargain, Pik will just take you home now." He wiped his face fastidiously with the handkerchief that Pik had produced, and then kissed Pik deeply to share the taste of me with him. Then he looked at me again. "Well, what do you say?"

"Yes, yes, anything, I want it now, lease......Ooooohhhhh!!" I cried out as he slid his cock into me deeply. He pulled back and then back in again. I came almost immediately. It was a small one, and I knew that there would be others. My body was still like a live wire. Fouchon fucked me deeply, and I thrashed underneath him, scratching and biting him. I didn't think I would ever get enough. He slammed into me over and over, while I voiced my pleasure. I had many orgasms, some a little bigger, some smaller. None was the big one that I knew was coming. I had the feeling that he was deliberately pulling back. That was fine with me. Like Pik had told me earlier, this was going to be a long night.

After some time, Fouchon stiffened and came with a deep moan of satisfaction. He withdrew from me and Pik took his place between my legs.

Instead of giving me his cock, he placed his lips on my pussy and licked up mine and Fouchon's juices, and driving me crazy in the process. Like the man or not, he had one hell of a wicked tongue. He knew just when and how hard to lick my clit to bring me on the verge of orgasm, but not quite. When he was done lapping up all the excess cum, he stood up and grasped my arm so I was standing as well. He looked down at me and then picked me up and impaled me on his cock. I threw my head back and bucked against him as he slid me up and down.

I looked over and saw Fouchon watching us. He had removed his pants and had a very tight trim body. His cock was standing at attention once more, and I looked forward to having him again. I had never before performed for an audience, and it turned me on more than anything I'd ever done.

Meanwhile, I was very impressed with Pik's stamina. He was showing no signs of tiring. The position that he was holding me in made my clit slam against his body ever time he impaled me deeply on his cock. I think the bastard knew I was getting ready to cum, because he slid me off of his cock, and then set me on the ground on my stomach. Instinctively, I got on all fours, and waited for Pik to come around behind me and fuck me. But instead, he came around front and offered his prick to my willing mouth. As I began to lick the taste of myself off of him, Fouchon grasped my hips and entered me from behind. He entered me so violently that I cried out. I rocked back and forth, a cock at either end.

Suddenly, Fouchon withdrew from me, and then used his finger to lubricate my asshole with my own juices. I didn't like being fucked up the ass, and I began to struggle, but between the two of them, I didn't have a chance. I took my mouth off of Pik's cock, and said, "Please, don't do that! I don't like it!" I increased my struggling, and then I felt Fouchon lean over me, along my back, and he whispered into my ear, "Just relax, and it won't hurt. I'll go slowly, I promise."

Frightened, I just said softly, "Please don't."

He gently stroked my hair, and said, "Ssshhh. It'll be good. Relax."

Trembling, I tried to relax, but the moment I felt the tip of his cock probing me, I began to tense up. He said again, "Relax," and then he began to finger my clit lightly. When I relaxed and began to get into it, he slid his cock in a little deeper. I consciously had to make myself relax, but despite my nervousness, he was finally all the way in. He began to fuck myasshole slowly, gently, all the while tickling my clit. After a few minutes, I totally relaxed, and while I didn't fuck him back with the intensity that I would have if he had been fucking my cunt, I did begin to enjoy it.

Suddenly, I realized that Pik was still in front of me with his raging hard-on, and I took it back into my mouth. I licked and sucked that gorgeous cock of his and then the two of them began fucking their respective ends of me harder and faster. Pik grabbed my face and began slamming his cock into my mouth. I was having a hard time breathing, but I managed. I pushed my hips back at Fouchon so he could get deeper access to me. They were both going at me like pistons in a V-8, and then, just when I thought I couldn't take it any more, they both came. I listened to these two men cry out, and I came again myself. Our voices all mingled together in a primitive song of ecstasy. We all collapsed in a heap together, breathing heavily, our bodies glistening with sweat.

We lay there for several minutes, and then disentangled ourselves from each other. Pik went over to the bar where a steaming washbowl was waiting. He reached into it, and withdrew a thick washrag. He gave it to me, and I began to clean myself off. I cleaned my face and rinsed the sweat and our intermingled fluids from my body. I went back to dip the rag again, and found some more waiting in the bowl. Pik had already gotten one and was reverently cleaning Fouchon's body. I watched them together, and the sight of it started me to throbbing between my legs again. I took two fresh rags from the bowl and walked over to the men. I began to clean Pik, wiping the sweat from his face, and his throat. I worked my way down to his softened cock and began to gently clean it. I felt it begin to harden again, and I put my mouth on it and sucked on it until it was once again stiff.

Taking the other rag, I finished washing Fouchon, and then treated his cock to the same attention I had Pik's. I stood up, facing Fouchon, and he bent down and gave me a deep kiss. He lowered his head to my breasts and began sucking on my nipples. Pik got down on his knees and slid between my legs in front of me. As Fouchon licked my nipples, Pik spread wide my pussy lips and began to eat me out. Shortly, I was once again begging for their stiff pricks.

Fouchon stood up and went over in front of the fireplace. He got down on the floor, propped up by some massive cushions, and then held his hand out to me. I regretfully tore myself away from Pik's masterful lips, and went over to where Fouchon lay.

I straddled him, but didn't take him into me right away. I explored his chest, his arms, his wonderful hands with my fingers. I looked at his face, stroked it, kissed it. I thought maybe that I loved this man. At the very least, I would never forget him. He would be an obsession with me for the rest of my life. I knew that. I didn't know how I did, but I did. Tears began to come to my eyes, because I knew that soon it would be over and I would probably never see him again. As the tears rolled down my face, Fouchon looked at me with what I thought might be pity, as if he knew what I felt. Vaguely, I heard the door close as Pik left the room, but I didn't care. I was miserable.

Fouchon traced my tears to where they had gathered at my nipple, waiting to drop, and he touched it lightly, and then brought his finger to his lips. I put my hand against my cheek, and felt the soreness and swelling where he had hit me. I knew that I would mourn in a few days when it began to fade. As the tears shed anew from my eyes, I looked at him, and said, "I love you."

He didn't seem surprised. "I know," he said. "You gave me your soul, remember?" Through my tears, I gave a little laugh, and said, "I guess I did." Slowly, lovingly, I reached down and caressed his warm cock. I positioned myself and then slid down it, achingly slow. I stayed there a moment, and slid back up. I found a good, strong, slow rhythm, and I made love to him. For probably the first time in my life, I was making love instead of just fucking. The beauty of it brought more tears to my eyes.

We looked into each other's eyes, in some strange way speaking to each other. It was like I'd known this man my whole life. He'd been in the background, in the back of my mind, since I was old enough to think. Somehow, he was a part of me.

His fingers caressed my body, setting it on fire, and his thoughts were setting my mind on fire. This was what I had been looking for, when I'd been out throwing my body to anyone who wanted it. This man loved me too. He would care for me, take care of my every need. I would never need anything but this man, ever again.

As I rode him, my body blazed with intensity. I knew that the most glorious orgasm of my life was just within my grasp. His fingers were stroking my body, intimately, and his thoughts were intimately entwined with mine. I felt my orgasm beginning to build, and I threw my head back, riding his cock violently, slamming up and down upon it. His fingers were dancing over me, rubbing me just how I liked it, just the right speed. He began to go faster, more intensely, and my riding increased in intensity as well. I could feel it, and I began to call out his name, over and over, only it didn't sound the same every time, but I knew they were all his names just the same, and I kept calling him, begging him, wrapping my tongue around ancient names in an ancient tongue long forgotten, and as I exploded in glorious, crushing rapture I looked deeply into the eyes of this man I loved with my entire body and soul, and my scream of ecstasy became a howl of terror and loathing.

Beyond the eyes of the man I looked into the soul, and found The Beast. I saw that I had been deceived, and I saw the delight of the demons. There was one there, taking particular delight. Somehow I knew that it was the one I had known as Pik. He led them as they closed in on me, dancing madly, pulling at me, ripping pieces of flesh from my bones and feasting on them. Then I felt a scream of ungodly despair from deep inside of me, and I spoke my last words just before my soul was ripped away from me.

"Mother? You were right."