AllFreeNovel
Share Us
By the time his pants were yanked down around his ankles, his less-than-impressive cock on display (apparently some things didn’t run in the family or maybe Leo had been the outlier) and Junior’s hands were white-knuckling the desk as he awaited what he assumed would be a life-altering experience, my Kershaw was already two inches deep in his thigh. Probably more than the fucker would have given me if I let 'em.
He wasn’t wrong though. This waslife-altering. For him. Me? Not so much.
There was something freeing about the feel of a knife slicing through the first few layers of flesh, subcutaneous fat, ligament, and finally a nice juicy vein. Picture a slab of meat not quite raw but not medium rare either. Now imagine that meat has a turkey baster shoved through the middle and as soon as you cut into it, someone on the other end squeezes, sending a heavy dose of slightly warm gravy raining down in your direction.
Yeah, that’s about as close to this moment as you’ll get if killin’ a man isn’t your thing.
Not that it was mything. I didn’t get off on it or nothing. My panties were dryer than a properly poured glass of Assyrtiko. I just didn’t mind getting my hands dirty whenever it was necessary. And right now, it was more than necessary. It was well-deserved. A longtime coming.
It was also the only thingcoming, much to this fucker’s dismay.
I pushed to my feet, looking Junior in his eyes as recognition slowly colored, then drained from this face with the rest of his blood. Seconds, remember? That’s all it took. All the time I had to enjoy the way his arms flailed about like the wings of a recently plucked chicken, the panic unwittingly increasing his blood flow and quickening his death as his skin turned the clammy color of a fresh corpse. His heart was pumping faster, his innate survival instinct the same thing that would help kill him in the end.
The weirdest part of the whole ordeal? The fucker never lost his erection. If anything, it appeared a bit…stiffer(no pun intended) as he slowly sank to his knees before I shoved him onto the floor.
I shouldn’t have done it. I knew that. It wasn’t well thought out or executed in a manner that meant I could get away scot-free. Not here, on enemy territory. But the fucker admitted to shooting me in the head. He was lucky all I did was send him off with a bad case of blue balls. If I had time, proper planning, I would have been a tad bit more creative and shoved them down his throat. Watched him choke on his own testicles with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a recording device in the other. So I could hit playback whenever I was feeling a little…nostalgic.
As much as I wanted to bask in the grotesque for a few minutes longer, I needed to think. Plan. Plot.
There were a dozen or so of Junior’s goons hanging around at any given time, so slinking out wasn’t an option. Not without spilling a lot more blood in a very short timeframe. Sure, I could do it. I was quick with more than a knife. But that would be sloppy. And I knew better than to be sloppy. Usually. When my temper didn’t get in the way.
But if there was one thing I could count on, it was the fact that men like Junior liked to talk. More than that, they liked to brag. Self-inflate their own egos. Live in the fantasy world they created in their heads, because reality wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. Think of it like a veteran with all the war stories—that guy? Yeah, he didn’t do shit. But the quiet fucker sitting in the corner? He was the one to keep your eye on. The same applied to dick size and bedroom skills. The more someone had to say, the less they could actually do.
It was a known fact. And one I would use to my advantage right now.
Junior took me in here for a reason. He called it business, but it was very much leaning towards the pleasure side of things. And I’d bet the fucker’s left nut that he preened all about it to anyone who’d listen. Meaning I had a solid five minutes—five being generous—before these dumb fucks realized something went wrong.
My lips twisted into what I could only assume was one helluva fucked-up smirk, as an idea came to mind and my hands rooted through Junior’s left pocket. Then his right. My grin widened when my fingertips brushed over the slick case of his oversized cell phone. Might as well have been a brick… the fucker was so heavy.
Compensating much?
Two seconds and a quick swipe of a dead man’s thumb later, and I was scrolling through Junior’s very active Pornhub account, while trying to select a clip with the most realistic audio. No easy feat, by the way. None of the girls on the first few pages of results were Oscar-worthy when it came to faking it. Then again, that might have been my best bet if I was aiming for authenticity.
Here’s to hoping we picked a winner, CumPrincess247.
45
While CumPrincess was doing her thing, her thing being a fairly impressive ten-inch cock attached to a fairlyunimpressive torso, I was trying my best to wipe a good bit of arterial splatter from my face and hands.
Thank fuck for black clothing.
I slammed a hip against Junior’s desk a few times, scraping the furniture along the floor in a back-and-forth motion, and knocked the occasional trinket across the room. I waited until Princess’s “stepbrother” reached his moment of peak performance. Which included pulling out to jiz all over her chest. His awful grunting noises more than enough to make my uterus shrivel up and die. Before closing out of the video, tearing one sleeve of my tank top, and ruffling my hair until I looked properly fucked. Or just fucked enough to accept disappointment.
This had to be believable after all.
Then I walked to the door, took a deep breath, and wrenched it open. The hall was empty but I knew it wouldn’t be for long. Princess and I put on quite the show, and I knew Junior’s men were holed up in some darkened corner listening. Maybe closingtheir eyes and participating in a less-than-gratifying circle jerk. The fact no one came running after I stabbed the bastard told me he wasn’t smart enough to have the room wired. That or he didn’t want anyone else knowing what he was up to in there.
Probably a little bit of both, if I’m honest.
I could hear the shuffling of boots and tried to embody my inner porn star—that part wasn’t all that hard. I loved sex after all. Didn’t mind the camera either. It was my choice of partner I was a tad more picky about. And no amount of cash could tempt me into faking it. If you didn’t hit the right spot, I sure as fuck was gonna tell you about it.
Otherwise, don’t waste my fucking time. Wonder if there was a niche for that? Ya know, if this whole bounty hunter shit didn’t work out in the end?
Two of Junior’s men approached me with equally wicked grins. If they had a brain cell between the pair of 'em, they’d be able to smell the blood drying on my clothes. Lucky for me, the Mulligans didn’t choose their men based on IQ level.
“Hey, boys.” I grinned while gesturing a thumb behind me. “Seems I tuckered out your boss back there. Poor guy is sleepin’ like a baby. Think ya can help a girl out and show me to the door? Junior mentioned something about stopping at my place to pick up a few things. Didn’t exactly plan for an extended stay and all. And what’s a girl to do without her curling iron…” I lifted a hand and began counting off on my fingers. “Oh! And I need my makeup bag… and don’t forget tampons… Nothin’s worse than a heavy flow day without?—”
“Okay!” The brute with the pierced eyebrow looked like he was gonna be sick at just the thought of female menstruation. “Shut up and I’ll lead ya out for fuck’s sake.”
