[Reader's Note: this story line is a sequel to PRECTINCT TWENTY-THREE (1st series) in Nifty.org Jan-2007 gay/authoritarian section, and its spin-off sister story THE HOLE in the Nov-2008 section of the same category. Please read those two stories in their entirety, starting with Precinct-23 first in order to get the full understanding of the characters. --DOGG]
THE PRECINCT II -pt-36 Title: THE ILLUMINATI
Pt-1<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
PRECINCT-23
"I understand that there has been a lot of controversy going around this Precinct lately about the dismissal of Captain David McConnell..." stated the Police Commissioner, inside one of the Precinct's 2 conference rooms as he addressed all the men and women in and out of uniforms. "...but let me lay all of your questions to rest...! Captain McConnell..., --though not actually accused of anything, DID undergo a vigorous Inquiry about his supposed living arrangements with the deceased officer Andrew Roberts at the time of his death! McConnell admitted to living with Roberts as roommates up until that time, but denies ANY knowledge of his death or his where abouts just before! Now while The Board frowns on any misuse of power and authority in any of its departments..., McConnell was not found guilty of any crimes, but decided it would be in his best interest if HE relieved himself of duty, effective immediately! "Now I know that THAT may sound strange to many of you, an innocent man resigning from a 20 year career..., and I'll admit its sounds a little fishy to me too..., but remember McConnell was not found guilty by the Board of any wrong doing...! He left the job and his career of his own volition! Leaving many of you to wonder WHO would fill his shoes...? Well..., I now have that answer for you..." smiled the Commish, holding his hand outward as a slim, young (under 40), unassuming man stepped by his side, making many of the officers question his ability to lead affectively... "...we've searched long and hard for just the right candidate for the job, not wanting to put just anyone in the seat! And I am proud today to introduce you to the new Captain of the 23rd Precinct..., a man who has had many successful years in politics..., --Tim Bradley!"
"Bradley...?" muttered Malik, questionably. "Are THEY related...?" he asked his partner Maleece, who was standing beside him in the packed crowded room.
Maleece simply shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, not really caring...
"Thank you..., everyone! Thank you, Commissioner..., for that welcoming introduction...!" said Bradley, in a soft politician's tone. "I want every hard working man and woman of this department to know that I intend to run this Precinct in a way that will make this city AND its officials proud! From here on out there will be a new `open door' policy! I want to be updated on every case relating to murder in the district, particularly if it relates to the Roberts case! From now on, nothing gets past my door without my seal of approval..., no matter how small!" said Bradley, getting an encouraging nod from the Commissioner. "Now..., what's the story on these so called serial murders...?" asked Bradley, looking about the room for answers. "Yes..., YOU there with his hand up..., you are...?"
"Ramone Davenport..." said the detective, getting the attention of everyone in the room. "...I've been doing some checking into the possibility that the murders might be connected to the occult..."
"The occult...? Okay..." said Bradley, listening with an open mind...
"Seeing how the bodies were both killed in a very specific manner..., I did some checking on the Internet to see if they occurred during any lunar cycles, which many religious occults believe to be the pinnacle for black magic..."
"uh huh..." said Bradley, quickly closing the door to his open mind. "So YOU believe that officer Roberts and the unfortunate mr Lampert were killed by witches and warlocks, rather than the street gangs that run the areas where their bodies were found ...?" asked the new Captain, skeptically.
"Well, sir..., street gangs usually shoot their victims..., they don't normally bound and gag them, sexually assault them, stab them to death, then cut out their throats!" answered Ramone.
"Tell that to the late officer Whitmen's wife, officer...!" intervened the Commissioner. "She was gang raped by nearly a half dozen gangbangers and videotaped for her husband to see...! (chap-8 of original series). So don't talk about what drug dealers won't do..., cause in MY book they're capable of anything!"
"Right..." said Bradley, resuming control of the room. "...are we finished...?" he asked officer Ramone. "Lampert and Roberts bodies were found near or IN well known gang territories..., that's where I want the investigations to focus! THAT's undoubtedly where the murderers reside! We're not wasting tax dollars chasing ghosts and goblins! It's a simple case of gang murder..., now get out there and find the men responsible!"
The room began to disperse as Bradley walked over to shake hands with the Commissioner. Ramone felt wary eyes of some of his coworkers staring at him, believing him a nutcase for suggesting black magic and the occult in an unsolved investigation. But before Ramone could leave the room (with his tail tucked between his legs), he was approached by detectives Jones, Rothman, and Alexander...
"What was that you were talking about with the occult...?" asked Rothman, curiously.
"It's just a theory I ran by Captain McConnell, about the possibility of the murders being connected to devil worshippers..., I mean since the bodies were mutilated in the same freakish manner...!" stated Ramone, skeptically.
"Sounds about as good as any leads I've come up with...!" said Rothman, looking around the small group. "What about you...?" he asked, looking at Malik.
"We have zero also!" he admitted, having struck out at the gay clubs and sex shops.
"Let's look into YOUR idea...!" insisted Rothman, giving props to Ramone.
"You sure...? The Commissioner and the new Captain shot me down like a missile..." said Ramone, having second guessed his idea.
"What did McConnell think about it...?" asked Malik.
"He thought I should look further into it..., that's why I brought it up at the meeting..." explained Ramone.
"If David thought it was worth pursuing, then I'm in!"
"What do you have so far...?" asked Rothman.
"Well..." said Ramone, moving the conversation into a more secure setting. "...I've done a lot of research into the occult..., and about as far as I could figure the Illuminati is just about the only sect that doesn't circle their beliefs around any specific religion or lunar cycle..., meaning they above any other society of devil worshipers can kill at will, whenever the mood strikes!"
"The Illuminati...?" asked Rothman, raising his brow.
"What's the Illuminati...?" asked Alexander.
"As far as I can ascertain..., they're an elite secret society of Satan worshippers who sacrifice human lives for money and power! Most of them are rich beyond human comprehension..., having sold their souls to the devil! To get where they are" explained Ramone, getting eerie looks from his coworkers.
"What do you want us to do...?" asked Malik.
"Well..." thought Ramone, carefully. "...if this membership goes as deep as I think it does, there should be some record about it in the City Hall Achieves! I'd need someone to go there and do some research..., to find out what we can on the Illuminati and its connections to Philadelphia..., then we'll know a little bit more what and WHO we're playing with...!"
"I'll do it!" offered Alexander, volunteering.
"What else...?" asked Malik, eager to get the ball rolling...
Pt-2<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
ROSWELL HEIGHTS
Kane (Winston Sinclair) awakened to a loud knocking at his front door. Dragging himself up out of bed, he strolled out of the bedroom and across the living room naked, yawning and scratching his testicles before reaching for the doorknob. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..., I HEAR you, dammit...!" he yelled, opening the door. "This better be fuckin' important!"
"It IS...!" said D-Money, pushing past Kane as he busted into the apartment, nearly knocking Kane over.
"By all means, hommie..., come in!" said Kane sarcastically, closing the door behind him. "Wussup...?"
"What the fuck was all that about yesterday...?!" asked Money, angrily.
"What you talkin' bout...?" asked Kane, ignorant.
"Defying the Blackwidow like that...? In front of everyone! Since when do you question a Head when they're giving orders?!"
"First of all, homs..., she ain't MY Head...! My loyalty was to Pooh, and Pooh ain't here no mo'! I don't owe that bitch nothin' but a face full'a nut!" defied Kane, pissing Money off even more. "If she thinks just changing her name to some comic book character is gonna strike fear in a nicca..., she fuckin' dreamin'! And so'r YOU!"
"So I take you want OUT of the Syndicate...?" asked Money as Kane walked by him.
"No..." he said thinking, before flopping down on the sofa with his feet crossed at the ankles atop the coffee table. "...I wanna be Head!"
"Yur crazy...!" said Money, sitting down on the sofa's arm. "Yur definitely crazy if you think The Widow is gonna give up her husband's seat for YOU!"
"She would if she HAD too...!" said Kane, smiling up at Money deviously.
"HAD too...?" asked Money, confused.
"Yur her right hand man, right? I bet YOU have all kinds'a inside shyt on her that I could use against her! Shyt that would make her back down and appoint ME as the Head of the Syn!"
"Why would I do that...?" asked Money.
Kane reached down and started playing with his soft dick, flopping it back and forth over his thighs.
"Cuz I could use a second in command like you, myself...!" he offered, stroking himself into complete stiffness. "Juss think about it, man..., WE could rule the whole fuckin' city!"
"You think Tempest would let another drug lord set up shop in the same city...?" questioned Money, skeptically.
"He did with Pooh...!" reasoned Kane.
"Pooh was already established...! They fought for YEARS before they finally joined forces together!" explained Money.
"Then HOW's Widow gonna do it...? She's new...!"
"She and Tempest go back a long way..., she has a history..."
"I don't give a fuck bout her history..." flagged Kane, getting angry. "...I'm tryin'a write my own!"
"You gonna have to write without me..." said Money, heading for the door.
"Yo...! Hey homs..., where you goin'?" asked Kane, watching Money walk away.
"My loyalty's with The Widow..., she's still apart of Pooh's camp!" stated Money.
"Hey..., I was juss jokin' bout what I said..." laughed Kane, good heartedly. "C'mon back, man...! Come get summa this dick! You know you want it...!"
"I pass!" said Money, reaching for the door.
"OH...! So its like THAT...?" asked Kane, his dick still in hand.
Money paused. "You was juss all up on my dick not too long ago..., but now that yur bitch boss's about to get a lil power, you don't wanna be bothered with me no more...?" Money turned around and stared at Kane, caught somewhere between disgusted and pity. Kane mistook the look for something else, as he got up from the sofa (stroking his erection) and walked towards Money. "You know you still want this shyt, man! Ain't nobody hit that spot like I did...! Certainly not yur boi Pooh!"
"You got it all wrong..." said Money, his hand poised on the doorknob. "...just cuz I LET you hit it don't make me yo bitch! I'm still ALL man! And ONE of these days..., I'm gonna show you just how much!"
"Bring it on babee!" laughed Kane, as Money slammed the door behind him.
Pt-3<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
WAREHOUSE
39 year old police detective Scott Macnamara sat on his knees before Tempest's limo driver on the floor of the warehouse, his head tilled slightly backward at an angle as the driver (holding the top of Mac's head in his hands) face fucked his fat 6" black dick in and out of Mac's mouth.
Tempest watched in boredom as Macnamara choked on the diver's dick with every inward shove.
"This bitch's gotta learn to suck dick quick, or I'mma slit his fuck'n throat and let the johns fuck it THAT way!"said Tempest frustrated, as Dunn walked in and sat beside him on the sofa in what passed as their living room.
"I have news about Peaches..." said Dunn, also watching Macnamara gag every time the fat black limo driver thrust his pudgy pelvis into the kneeling man's face. Macnamara's cheeks puffed out with every thrust, as more and more spit dribbled down off his unshaved chin. "...it appears she's going to start running the Syndicate in her husband's place...! An admirable dedication if it didn't collide with YOUR plans to expand into that very same territory...!"
Tempest said nothing as he watched the limo drive go deeper, slapping his hairy balls into Macnamara's chin. Macnamara's eyes bulged every time the big man's thick dick penetrated the very back of his throat as snot began to escape his flaring nostrils.
"The bitch's got balls..., I'll give er that!" said Tempest finally, after a long silence.
"Well..." asked Dunn, looking over at his boss. "...what are WE going to do about it...? I mean..., YOU can't have her setting up shop as if she's on YOUR level...! With Pooh out of the way, YOU have a right to that territory!"
Tempest said nothing as he simply nodded his head in agreement, making Dunn believe he was on a roll. "She needs to be taken down a peg or two! She's no real drug dealer..., not like you! We need to make an example of her!"
"Who the fuck iz this `WE' you keep talkin bout...?" asked Tempest, an alarm going off in his head. "Since when the fuck I become WE?? Who the FUCK you think you are...?!"
"I..I..I..." responded Dunn, beside himself...
Tempest unfastened his pants, grabbing the back of Dunn's soft curly head before shoving his handsome half breed face down into his crotch. "Get yur silly ass down there and suck that dick! You be gettin' too damn big for yur britches lately! I see YOU need to be knocked down a peg too! Since when do YOU tell ME what to do...? WHO'S bitch iz you??"
"Yours!" yelled Dunn, just before Tempest stuffed his mouth full of spongy soft dick.
"Damn straight, bitch! And ya betta not forget it eith'a!" threatened Tempest as Dunn began sucking, eager to get back on the boss's good side. "Since WHEN do I need you to think fo' me...? THIS's yur job, right here..., --suckin' MY DICK wheneva I need it!"
"I'm sorry, Tempest..." pleaded Dunn, sucking furiously as he started to work Tempest's dick into an erection.
"Damn rite yur sorry...!" said Tempest, still angry. "You gonna be a SORRY ASS if ya keep tryin'a think ya smarter'n me! I ain't no dummy! I ain't get THIS fuckin' far in life on my good looks alone!" stated Tempest, making a rare joke.
The humor however was lost on Dunn, who was doing his best to make his boss happy again as Tempest's long 9 and 1/2 inch dick began to lengthen and stretch down his throat. Dunn buried his face in his boss's lap, allowing the curved snake to slip easily into his caressing esophagus. He knew Tempest enjoyed his top notch blow jobs. If anything would make Tempest forgive him for overstepping his boundaries, it was giving him the best head he'd ever had in his life.
Tempest unfortunately, seemed unphased as he causally reached back and began molesting Dunn's buttock through his dress slacks. Before Dunn could unfasten his belt, he felt Tempest's hand squeezing down into the ass of his pants, his strong fingers easily breaking through his anal ring to bury deep inside him...
"Bitch muss be crazy thinkin' you can tell me what to do...!" continued Tempest, still thinking about Dunn's mistake. He jammed two fingers up Dunn's ass, causing the loyal assistant to grimace in sudden pain as he purposely clamped his anal muscles down around the exploring digits. "Matta of fact..., get yur dumb ass down onna floor where you belong!" added Tempest, changing his mind as he shoved Dunn off his dick. Dunn hopped down onto the floor on all fours obediently, poised for fucking. "I see you juss like'a bitch..." said Tempest, standing up as he pulled down his pants and began stroking his 9 and 1/2 inch curved pipe into complete erection. "...you need a constant bang of DICK in yur dumb cunt or else you start thinkin' you all man! You ain't no man, nigga...! Not wit' that pussy you call an ass growin' in back!"
Dunn said nothing in his own defense, knowing his own opinions didn't matter. His mouth, ass, and body was Tempest's, to do with as he pleased. He hated the idea of pissing off his boss, but at the same time he couldn't help being excited to be put back in his place. Tempest stared down at Dunn's light brown ass and parted cheeks, zeroing in on his asshole. Without so much as adding spit, Tempest crouched down behind the man, then rammed all 9-1/2 inches bone deep with one plunge.
"AAARRRHHH...!!" screamed Dunn, arching his back like a cat in heat as he presented more ass for the fucking. Tempest could tell Dunn (a whore at heart) had pre-lubed his pussy before hand, anticipating that he might want sex.
"Good thing you lubed up, bitch..." he whispered huskily as he grabbed Dunn's trim waist and began banging his pelvis into his ass. "...or else this pussy would be bleedin' by the time I'm through!"
Dunn was grateful that he lubed also, always ready in case Tempest wanted a quick romp in his forest.
Tempest really wasn't horny or in the need for a fuck, but he wanted to teach his assistant a lesson about boundaries. Dunn was a valuable asset to Tempest (and Tempest knew it), but he couldn't have him believing they were running things together as a couple, he needed Dunn to know his place as a subservient and stay that way.
Holding the mixed raced poindexter by the waist, he hammered his schlong in and out of Dunn's snug hole with sheer power, refusing to make the fuck feel good.
Dunn moaned, groaned, grunted, and yipped during the entire session. While he did enjoy being roughly manhandled by trade like Tempest, there was a line which he didn't usually like to venture across leading into pain. Tempest had a knack for using his mighty lance as both a weapon and a pleasure tool. Dunn had had MANY amazing orgasms (inside and out) on the end of Tempest's love-stick, today however, he would learn his lesson about staying on his own level and not trying to manipulate Tempest's strong black mind.
The limo driver watched Tempest's display, loving the sight of his long hard dark brown dick slicing through Dunn's spread tan cheeks. He used the same technique, long dicking Macnamara's mouth and throat, piercing the very back of his mouth each time he rammed forth. Macnamara began to adjust to the throat pounding as his eyes diverted over to Tempest as well, his gazed focused on the horrific pounding Dunn was receiving as he smiled to himself around the mouthful of cock pummeling his gullet.
The limo driver noticed the change in Macnamara's ability to handle him, and went for broke as he slammed his pudgy pelvis home into the officer's upturned face with every stroke. Macnamara felt the black man's furry pelvis and belly slap into his face each time his dick punched through the start of his throat muscles.
"uhhh fuck..., yeah..., suck that fuckin' dick...!" moaned the driver, slamming harder as he neared release.
Macnamara held his throat open as the fat dick pummeled his throat, the stringy hairs of his cheap blonde clinging to his sweaty brow and spit covered face. The first spurt of the driver's hot cum shot directly down Macnamara's open throat, shooting directly into his belly before he even realized the man was cumming. "UUURRRRRRRRRGGG yeah...!!" groaned the big man, shaking and convulsing as if attached to live wires, Macnamara knew in that instant that the man was unloading as his throat muscles clamped down around the spurting head defensively. "OH FUCK YEAH! MILK THAT DICK, BITCH!" yelled the man excitedly, spurting two more loads straight down Mac's throat as he pressed his pudgy pelvis closer against Mac's sweaty face. Macnamara began to suffocate as his breathing passages were clogged. He pushed into the fat man's high's trying to dislodge as panic began to set in. When the driver finally let him go, the last two spurts shot out across Mac's face, catching him by surprise...
"I think she ready for the streets..." said Tempest, slamming his dick painfully into Dunn's upturned ass. Dunn took a moment from flinch to look over as Macnamara's face was suddenly painted with ball cream. Macnamara jumped in surprise as the warm sludge splattered against his face, then began to slowly drip down like molasses.
"I'll get RIGHT on it, sir!" agreed Dunn as Tempest picked up the pace of his fuck, long dicking his assistant's ass with deep strong penetrating strokes, hitting every angle with deliberate cruelty.
Dunn grunted and groaned in agony, his only recurring thought was the reward he would get when Tempest creamed his bowels, filling his sore innards with his soothing sperm. He grit his teeth and took every painful thrust as Tempest beat his pelvic bone against his ass with every inward plunge. Dunn knew Tempest was nearing a roaring climax when he felt the man's fingers dig into his waist, holding him tighter as he hammered harder at his butt. But just before Tempest let loose with his creamy torrent, he called Macnamara over on his hands and knees. Macnamara crawled over to where Tempest was butt fucking his assistant, his dignity no longer in existence as he awaited Tempest's next command. Tempest surprised both him and Dunn when he suddenly yanked his dick free from the assistant's sore hole, then aimed it up at Macnamara's shocked face. Before Mac could even react, he felt thick gushes of Tempest's strong semen splattering all over his face, drenching him in life giving seed. Dunn looked on with disappointment, his sore anus throbbing painfully after the rough fucking.
"Get goin' bitches! Make my money!" ordered Tempest, spent...
Pt-4<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
CITY HALL
In the basement of the city's foremost law building, lies a gloomy isolated room full of records, recorded documents dating back to the late 1700's when Philadelphia was still the country's capital. Detectives Malik Jones and Lewis Alexander were both knee deep in the record books, trying to discover anything they could relating to the origin of the Illuminati.
"So..., how's it going...?" asked detective Ramone Davenport, having snuck up on Jones and Alexander and nearly scaring them out of their wits. "Sorry..." he said, having seen them both jump at the sound of his voice. "Find anything interesting...?"
"The Illuminati dates back further than the record books record..." said Alexander intrigued, resting back in his chair with his sleeves rolled up around his forearms. "...they mention early references to prominent members of a Secret Society working in the shadows of Government..., but after the first few generations the member names become vague references with no real significance!"
"However..." added Malik, pulling one of the books he had from the top of the pile. "...ONE recurring name keeps getting my attention..., --one that seems to date as far back as the original Rockefellers, Kennedy's, Onassis, and DuPonts..."
"Yeah...?" asked Ramone, curiously...
"Bradley!" answered Malik, pointing at the name written in several books. "Jonas Bradley'..., Peter Bradley'..., Lumas Bradley'..., Simon Bradley'...! It goes on and one through the generations...!"
"Bradley...?" questioned Ramone. "Do you think the Commissioner may be connected...?"
"Not just the Commissioner..." said Malik, "...how about our newly appointed Captain...? Does anyone know if they're related...?"
"Should be easy enough to check into...!" said Ramone, unaware that they were being spied on by an unseen librarian...
Pt-5<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
PRECINCT-23
Detective Maleece Cortez was just getting ready to finish up working at his desk when he suddenly got a call on his private cell. He looked down at the caller I.D. and sighed, having ignored his last 3 calls... "Hey, what's up...?" he asked into his cell, knowing he HAD to speak to him eventually.
"Hi..." said the voice of Chad Bradley --Action News reporter. "...you haven't returned my phone calls..., have you been avoiding me...?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Not at all..." lied Maleece, clocking out. "...I've just...been busy! You know..., working cases...!"
"I see..." said Chad. "What happened to you last night...? I thought we had a date...!"
"I, uh..., I got REALLY sick..." lied Maleece, thinking on the fly. "...I think it was food poisoning or something..., I was shitting and throwing up all night!"
"Oh dear...!" responded Chad, not really buying it.
"Yeah..., I didn't think it would make for a romantic night either!" said Maleece, content with his lie as he left the building to head for his car.
"Did you see a doctor...?"
"No..., I felt better by the morning..., so I just came into work...!"
"Oh good!" said Chad. "So what are you doing tonight?"
"Working!"
"Working...? I thought you just got off work...?"
"I didn't say that!" answered Maleece, placing his car key into the lock.
"Well..., you're usually finished by this time..." corrected Chad.
"We're working late...!"
"Something important...?" asked Chad.
"All our cases are important!" said Maleece.
"Of course. I was hoping to see you tonight..." said Chad, pouting over the phone. "...I have an important gala to attend, and was hoping I could count on you to escort me...!"
"I'm a cop, not an escort...!" said Maleece, getting into his car.
"PLEEEEASE...? It's really important to me that you be there..." begged Chad. "...the MAYOR will be there..." enticed Chad. "...I could introduce you...!"
"The Mayor...?" chuckled Maleece, like he gave a shit about the Mayor.
"Other celebrities will be there too..." continued Chad. "...it's a star studded event...! Everyone whose ANYone will be there!"
Maleece thought about it for a moment...
"What time...?" he asked, starting his car.
"9pm sharp!" answered Chad. "Can you make it...? Can I count on you...?"
"I'll see what I can do...!" answered Maleece, disconnecting before pulling out of his parking space.
Chad clicked off his own cell phone as he sat in his own Lamborghini, watching Maleece pull off down the street from the Precinct...
Pt-6<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
SNYDER'S DRIVE
39 year old police detective (turned fugitive) Scott Macnamara stood at the corner of Snyder's Drive, dressed impassably as woman. Brian Dunn (assistant to Tempest Williams) spoke briefly with another man who Macnamara discerned a pimp. The pimp looked over at Macnamara, then smiled, making Mac's blood run cold. "Don't worry man, I'll take care ov it!" said the man, shaking Dunn's hand before Dunn got back into the back of Tempest's Town Car and drove away.
Macnamara stood nervously as the pimp walked over, his heart beating a million miles a minute. "I hear ya used to be a cop..." said the angry looking black man. Macnamara wasn't sure if he had arrested him before or not? "...I HATE cops! Tempest said you work for ME now! So wheneva a car pulls up lookin' for sum bitch ta party with..., I want YOU ta be the first bitch he sees! Offer him anything he wants..., juss make that money! Cuz if ya don't..., that's yur ass!"
Macnamara gulped nervously as hooker transvestites laughed at his miniskirt (which showed off his unshaved knot-knees), bad makeup, cheap wig, and facial stubble. Tempest had Dunn pin a sign on his back declaring `half off' to any motorists passing by.
Macnamara stood on the street, timidly greeting cars which cruised down the well known tranny block looking for action. Dozens of cars passed him by, with young (teen) occupants pointing and laughing at him. Eventually one car stopped. The man saw the sign on Mac's back and pulled over. "Havin' a special, eh...?" he asked as Macnamara cautiously walked over. "How much to get my cob slobbed...?" he asked, rubbing himself openly as Macnamara looked down into his crotch...
"uh..., $25...!" said Mac, in his normal male voice.
"Twenty-five...??" yelled the man. "I thought yur sign said HALF OFF!"
"$12.50..." corrected Macnamara, hoping the man would pass him up for a prettier, more experienced girl.
"Alrite..." said the man, sucking his teeth. "...git in!"
Macnamara looked over at his pimp (who nodded his head insistantly: telling Macnamara to go with the stranger). Macnamara opened the passenger's side door, then reluctantly got in...
"Where are we going...?" he asked curiously.
"Not far, bitch..." said the man, driving to the end of the block before pulling up into a vacant lot which was currently being used as a dumping ground. "...I won't take long..., --IF yur good...!"
Putting the car in park, the man leaned back his seat, exposing his 8 and 1/2 hardon. "It might smell a lil' since I juss got off work..." he advised, settling back. "...I wanted to stop down here an' git blown real quick before goin' home to the wife and kids, ya know? Nobody giv' betta head than you drag queens bitches!"
Macnamara fought the urge to tell the man that he was NO drag queen, that he was a cop with a badge and the ability to make his life hell. But instead he merely looked around to make sure no one was looking before finally leaning in over the man's crotch to suck his unwashed penis. He grasped the man's hardon, jacking it for a few seconds before taking a deep breath for courage. He knew if he didn't do as the pimp wanted, Tempest would have his ass in a sling (literally).
Licking the head, he swabbed the fat round head thoroughly with his tongue (tasting stale piss) before taking it into his mouth. "Yeeehhhh, bitch..., suck that dick...!" moaned the Sanitation worker as Macnamara began to bob his head. "Take that shit ALL the way down..." insisted the man, shoving the back of Mac's head down into his lap. Macnamara's eyes widened with fear as the stranger's fat dick head suddenly popped into his throat. "...I ain't got all damn day! Yeeeehhhh..., suck it...! Juss like that!"
Macnamara fought the gag reflex as his neck muscles clamped down around the hard black shaft penetrating his throat. At first he thought he was going to choke, but as the precious seconds began to tick by without a single incident, he knew Tempest's lessons had paid off. Macnamara began to relax and settle into the throat action as the black stranger moaned and groaned words of praise. "That's it bitch...! You the man! Swallow that shit! Yeh..., make love to that dick! Damn that shit feels good!"
Macnamara felt a strange kind of pride building up inside him as the man loosened his grip on his head. He tightened his lips as he dragged his mouth back up to the head, sucking gently on the crown as he listened to the Sanitation worker moan heatedly. Macnamara found himself wanting to hear him moan more, feeling a sense of power over his subject as he slid his mouth back down around the hard shaft, using his slick tongue as a guide. Mac bobbed his head up and down, see-sawing his mouth along the penile column. Wanting to know if deep throating was fluke or not, he purposely sank his throat back down around the man's phallus, consciously taking his meat back into his throat.
"awww daaaaammmm, babe..., suck that mother fucker!" moaned the man, loving the head.
Macnamara smiled to himself as his throat (though painfully) melded to the shape of the man's dick. He buried his nose in the man's crotch, breathing in his manly funk before slowly sliding his mouth back up the shaft. "Damn bitch, you like that dick, don't you...?" asked the man, noting the way the ugly white girl sucked his prod. "You HUNGRY for that nut, aintcha...?"
Macnamara froze at the thought of eating the man's cum. During his experiences with Tempest he consumed sperm as if it were milk, but now that it was just he and the "john", he was having second thoughts about drinking the life giving nectar. His thoughts were interrupted when the man tightened his grip, then shoved his head back down on his dick. Macnamara felt the dick punch through his throat muscles again, pummeling into his curve of his neck like a battering ram. Just then he felt the man's dick suddenly expand, then start shooting hot spurts of thick cum straight down the back of his throat.
"awww fuck..., YYYEEEHHHHHH...!!!" yelled the man, grinding his pelvis up into the drag queen's face.
Macnamara felt the cum shooting directly down his esophagus like shots from a water gun. His neck muscles clamped down around the pulsating shaft, causing the man to moan even louder.
"Shit bitch..., you drained me...!" sighed the man, falling back into his seat as he released his grip on the she-male's head. To Macnamara's own surprise, he continued throating the throbbing monster, actually enjoying the way it felt pulsating in his throat.
Milking the dick dry, he sucked and sucked until it finally started to soften. He looked down at the dead limp penis (which had just fed him a belly full of sperm) as if he'd just lost his best friend. The man (having gained his strength back) began tucking his meat away as he sat upright in his seat. "That was good, bitch..., but I gotta go...!" he said, having finished business with the trick.
Macnamara (slow to react) reached for the door handle, then slowly got out of the car. The man immediately put the car in reverse, then sped off down the street, leaving Mac standing in the field with his 8" hardon protruding from up under his mini-skirt.
"Not bad, dumb ass..." said the pimp, walking up on Macnamara a few minutes later and slapping him square across the face. "...but you forgot to charge him...! We don't give freebees..., down here, you've got to EARN your keep!"
Macnamara stood in shock, his face stinging where the pimp bitch slapped him. So enthralled with sucking dick and eating cum, he totally forget he was supposed to get paid...
Written by NPhillydogg@aol.com _______________________________________________ For questions, comments, or suggestions, write me at the address above, or join me on Facebook.com for faster updates on what I'm working on next!