Please add this to my Luke Steele storyline. Thanks!
Best, D.O. celliophonic@yahoo.com http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bestbbcstories/
Luke Steele -- Bounty Hunter Pt. 4
By D.O. celliophonic@yahoo.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bestbbcstories/
A reflection of sunlight off of a bayonet flashed past Luke's eyes and then he felt the stinging pain as the blade sank into the meat of his shoulder. White hot. A scream was sounding in his ears. His own, he realized. He turned and jammed his pistol into the face of the man who had stabbed him. He felt oddly detached as his finger pulled the trigger and the man's features were blasted beyond recognition in an instant. No time. Gun powder hung in the air, making it hard to see and to breathe. Where was the rest of his unit? Luke moved to his left and immediately ran into a large man. All he could make out was the gray of the man's uniform and Luke struck quickly, unsheathing his knife and then jamming it up and into the throat of the unfortunate soldier, in one smooth motion. Blood, warm and sticky, sprayed like a geyser from the wound covering them both. He continued moving, searching for escape. He was certain his unit had abandoned him, thinking him dead. He came out of the smoke and saw three enemy soldiers bearing down on him. He moved his hand to grab his pistol, but the trigger caught on some of his clothing. He looked up and realized all three men were about to fire. He desperately dove to the ground, screaming. Suddenly, without warning, he found himself in another place, pounding a beautiful young kid into some sweat-soaked sheets. He was hammering his cock into a tight and moist boy-hole and he and the boy were both screaming with ecstasy. He could literally feel those slick, heated guts gripping and grasping his manhood, massaging his entire shaft. It was pure Heaven. He had no idea how he got here from the battlefield, but somehow it all made sense...or did it? It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to his nut. The vaguely familiar kid writhing beneath him was crying now, begging Luke to fuck him harder, faster, and stronger. Luke looked down and realized the kid was screaming because he had a bayonet stabbing into him. That bayonet was running straight through Luke and into the youngster. Luke himself began to shriek with shock and pain. And then, nothing but roaring in his ears.
Luke awoke suddenly. He was sweating profusely and had nearly tipped over in the chair he was sitting in. He wiped his brow and got up, cursing himself for his weakness. He was in a third floor room at the Chateau Hotel, right across from Lieberman's Saloon. He was supposed to be watching for Clyde Selman, not falling asleep like some amateur, in a chair in front of the window. He splashed some tepid water from the wash basin on his face, looking at the clock on the wall. Almost eleven thirty in the morning. Jesus, he needed to wake up. He had been dreaming about...something. The memory of it was already fading into nothingness, strands of a nightmare slipping away, never to return.
Luke decided to get up and go out. He had arrived in New Orleans almost twelve hours ago and still had seen no sign of Selman anywhere. His best hunch as to his whereabouts was Lieberman's, so that's where Luke had decided to plant it. But now he realized he may need to actually flush Selman out. He grabbed for his gun belt and strapped it back on. He loved the heft he felt whenever he wore it, a heft of iron and leather and lead. It was comforting to him, he would make no apologies for enjoying the tools of his trade. Luke grabbed his duster as he headed out the door and made his way down the two flights of stairs and into the hotel lobby. A slight man in a well-tailored suit came from a doorway behind the counter. He immediately jumped up to the counter as he saw Luke. "Everything to your liking, Mr. Steele? Is there anything I can get for you?" He asked very cheerfully, almost too cheerfully.
Steele laughed a little, to himself. The folks at establishments like this one were always so damned polite and cheery. "All of it's fine, thank you. Uhh, where might I be able to find the brothels in the area?" The man's face turned beet red and Luke realized that although he was probably asked this question a lot, it was clear the man had never set foot in such a place. He stuttered a bit in his haste to answer. "Ah, several places of that......sort just down the way from us Mr. Steele. Just take a left out of the front door and head west. You can't miss them...ah..."
Luke was ready for the stares that always followed him in public. He had arrived in the dead of night, but now he wanted to stir things up a little. If someone connected to Selman saw him, even though his business was unknown, there was a chance that word might get back to Clyde and perhaps make him nervous. A nervous man was more prone to making mistakes and Luke would be ready to pounce when that happened. In the meantime, no harm in seeing the sights and it was no secret that Selman had almost as much of a weakness for young pussy as he had for gambling and drinking. A brothel might be as good a place as any to find the stupid fuck. Luke had to check himself; Selman was no Waldo Smith. He was a clever and dangerous man who had managed to stay three steps ahead of bounty hunters, Pinkertons and federal Marshalls for several years now. He was insulated and well-guarded. Luke couldn't quite figure out what it might be that had brought him out of hiding and into the light of day in a large city at this moment, but he intended to find out. Oddly he noted, or perhaps, not so oddly, the stares that usually accompanied him seemed to be absent. Maybe he wasn't such a duck out of water in New Orleans.
He moved down the boulevard, walking slowly but assuredly, looking all around, always surveying and taking mental notes. He had left his Winchester back in his room, but he had his six-shooter, his sawed-off and a back-up pistol. He was ready if it went down like that. He continued his trek, not seeing much of note, until he saw a fellow sitting on the front porch of another hotel, his legs propped on the railing, leaning back in his chair, seemingly looking at him with great interest. The man looked to be quite young, although it was hard to tell with the wide brim of his hat obscuring much of his face in shadow. He couldn't so much see the man looking at him, as much as sense it. He felt the man's eyes following him and thought he caught an almost imperceptible grin pass over the man's lips as he met the unseen stare. He instantly saw the iron strapped to the stranger's left leg and noted the easy way those hands played over the smooth ivory handles. He saw all this in about two seconds. It was all he had, all he needed to find out much of what he needed to know about this person. Clearly this was a man who could hook and draw with the best of them, or at least thought he could.
With Luke's reputation as a duelist, he knew very well he might be getting a challenge from this young man at any moment. But as he walked by, the man said and did nothing, and Luke merely gave him a slight nod and kept going. There were always young shooters trying to make a name for themselves, trying to claw their way up the ranks of famous gunfighters. Luke wanted nothing to do with that scene anymore, had never really wanted it. It was simply something he had fallen into. He had always seemed to fall into violent lifestyles. It's what he seemed best suited for.
He soon found himself in the brothel district. I became apparent rather quickly; the very air seemed to permeate with the musky scent of perfume and copulation. He came upon a place called Madame Roberta's and decided to step in. He was met with a lush, red-dominated decorum all throughout the large main room. It smelled of warm spices, vanilla, peaches. He had barely been inside for more than a couple of seconds when several women descended on him, like hyenas to a carcass. The women were all dressed exquisitely and heavily made-up and perfumed. He tried his best to gently push them aside in his quest for boy ass, but the women would not be denied. Their hands were all over him, he felt a couple on his cock accompanied by some ooohing from the girls and more than a couple undoubtedly feeling around for his money purse. Luke had to admit, he was feeling a bit turned on and he was quite certain he would wind up fucking one of these pretty girls if there were no places that catered to his preferences.
An older woman entered the room and it was immediately clear she was the Madame and the one in charge. The girls instantly scampered away from Luke, like he had the plague. "Good day to you, sir. I am Madame Roberta, the proprietor of this establishment. What is it that you seek, my fine traveler?" Luke looked at the woman intently. She was probably around forty years old and quite attractive and spoke with an accent he couldn't quite place. European, to be certain, but it was unfamiliar to him. He responded to her query in a low tone. "Well Madame Roberta, my name is Mr. Steele and I seek a particular delicacy that I......don't see on the menu. A business associate of mine, Selman, had recommended your place, but perhaps you might direct me to a house that caters to my particular pleasures?" He did not smile at her, but she smiled anyway.
"I see, Mr. Steele. I believe you are saying that your tastes run away from the... female persuasion. And I would say to you that I do indeed cater to those particular tastes. If you would be so kind as to step into the parlor, I will have you see some of my wares offered in that style." Luke followed the woman into an adjacent room, pleasantly styled and quite cozy and very private. "I find it interesting that you seem to have marked me as a traveler. How do you know this? I could own a home a few miles outside of town, for all you know..."
Madame Roberta looked at him and smiled a wily grin. "Well, Mr. Steel, let's just say you don't seem like you're from around here. And one hears things... What did you say was the name of your friend who directed you to us?" Luke looked up, wondering if there was a reason for the question. "Selman. Mr. Selman." Roberta shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't recall anyone by that name. He must have enjoyed himself though..." She left it at that and motioned towards another door that connected into the parlor as a couple more girls entered. They were both extremely beautiful. "These, Mr. Steele are Ilya and Misha. They have just come to me from the Great Russian Empire and as you can see, they are very beautiful. Very beautiful, indeed. They will love to please a big, hairy man, although I assure you they've never been with a black man, such as yourself..."
So this was a Russian brothel. Luke looked at the girls, both probably in their late teens, but a bit taller than the women he had bedded before. "I agree that they are quite beautiful, Madame. However, they do look to me as...women, females. I thought you understood that I prefer boys." Madame Roberta had a twinkle in her eyes. "Ahhh, but look again, Mr. Steele. Look closer. Ilya and Misha are boys. Just made up to look like pretty girls. I have a clientele that demands subtlety and discretion. I provide that for them and for you as well. Only a few even know I traffic in sweet young boys as well as girls." She smiled again and nudged the boys to get closer to Luke. He could smell them now, and while they were perfumed, it was a fragrance that enhanced their youthful maleness. God Luke loved that scent. Both boys were made up with rouge and eye shadow and lipstick and both wore wigs of long flowing tresses. Both wore finery of the highest make and design and Luke could even see lacy under things poking out here and there. Each boy had on feminine heeled shoes and gossamer thin silk stockings. "Neither lad is a virgin, but I assure you they have not sucked many men, and certainly no black men. This will be the first time for them. You can have either one......or both, if you are willing to pay, Mr. Steele."
Luke looked the two boys over, trying to envision them without make-up and ladies clothing and couldn't. And then he realized it really didn't matter either. He kind of liked the idea of having a boy dressed in frilly ladies undergarments. Yes sir, the thought of one of these boys (or both) stripped down to knickers, garters and stockings was sounding mighty fine. Both lads had very pretty mouths, the kind that Luke knew just how to put to best use. "How much for both boys for a couple hours?" Madame Roberta smiled again. She knew Luke was on the hook, she just needed to reel him in. "You know Mr. Steele, I normally charge five dollars for a couple hours with any of my girls or boys, but since you're new in town, why don't you take Ilya and Misha for the price of one?" She was certain no man could resist such an offer.
Luke was just about to agree to terms with the woman when he happened to glance out the small bay-style window that was immediately to his left. Shit, he thought to himself. There, plain as day was walking Petros (Peter) Demetrios, a known associate of Clyde Selman. He was no gun hand though, more the guy who handled business affairs for Selman, leastwise, that was the story on the street. The law had never been able to catch the Greek dirty, but it was well known he did stuff for Selman's crew. Worked angles, paid for votes, bribed lawmen, fenced stolen goods, bought up property, whatever was required. Luke had heard he'd gotten his law license a while back.
"Madame Roberta, I must apologize, but I really have to leave. I promise to be back to deal with these fine youngsters you've offered me. But something just came up..." He backed away from the two lush young beauties, trying desperately to stave off his hardening erection. But it was too late. His cock was stabbing outward, tenting his trousers and he saw both boys' eyes go wide as they imagined his hefty proportions. Roberta took a step back as well. "Oh my, Mr. Steele. You're certainly......capably endowed, it would appear. My girls would love you...and so would I......" She gave him a wickedly sexy smirk and ushered the boys out of the parlor. "Very well then. We can always conduct business at another time that is more convenient for you, sir. Good day to you then." She curtsied and swept out of the small room, leaving the door open behind her.
Luke walked out of the parlor and out the front door as quickly as possible. He looked all around for a glimpse of Demetrios' fine, pin-striped tailored suit. Damn it! He knew he had used up valuable time backing out of the transaction at the whorehouse, but one cannot just walk away without words and expect to be welcomed back to the same establishment later. He walked out in the direction he had seen the man taking. Looking around, scanning the faces...nothing. Fuck. That would've been a great lead into Selman's whereabouts. He paused, deciding where to go next and suddenly it was his lucky day. Out of the general store to his left stepped none other than Peter Demetrios himself. Luke moved nonchalantly behind a nearby parked wagon. The wagon mostly blocked him from the view of the other man. He would follow Demetrios and perhaps get an idea of where he might find Selman. It dawned on him that he had thought previously about just letting Selman's people see him, but now it felt like subterfuge might be the name of the game.
Luke pulled the collar up on his duster, trying to obscure his face and he kept to the far side of the street as he followed the Greek from afar. Nothing too out of the ordinary at the moment. Demetrios seemed to be simply out for a stroll, perhaps a couple groceries. But you never knew when men like this were cooking something up. The Greek stopped in front of a small building, paused a moment, looked around and then went in. Luke looked up at the sign and chuckled to himself. Demetrios Law Services. So the rumor had been true. Selman had himself a real lawyer now, on retainer and all. He was big-time. Luke didn't like that bit of news, but at least now he had something to go on. It was hoping too much that Clyde might show up here, but he might be able to follow Demetrios or at least glean some small piece of information that would be useful.
He stepped off of the porch front he was on and started making his way back to his hotel. He had traveled most of the distance and it was now almost two o'clock. He was looking forward to lunch and perhaps just relaxing for the afternoon. It was not to be. From behind him a voice called out. "Luke Steele!" He turned and instantly recognized the young cowboy who had been watching him this morning. Clearly the kid wanted to hook and draw. Damn it. This was the last thing he needed right now. A duel.
To be continued.......