Chapter 4

narrated by Steve Harris

Despite my lack of quality sleep I dispatch my work load in short order and begin making a few client calls just to touch bases. I avoided the clients that were at Mary’s Party that may or may have not fucked my wife. I didn’t want to get into discussions as to the quality of my wife’s cunt.

One client I called had heard about the party and was hinting at the possibility of banging Stella, but I told them that they would have to go through either Mary or Bart if they wanted more than a warm hug hello from my wife.

A little after noon Becky beeped my intercom. “That Benson man is on the line.”

“Thank you Becky.”

“You’re welcome Mr. Harris.” click

“Hello Greg.”

“Steve, get your ass over to my house right now. Stella’s here and there some big mean guys are asking questions about what happened that morning and they’re not too polite, if you know what I mean, so get over here pronto!”

“Is she ok? Greg! Greg!” He had hung up. I thought about calling back but figured I had better get over to his house and then I could say whatever I needed to there.

I grabbed my car keys and briskly walked out of my office. I told Becky as I’m rushing out the door. “I have my cell of you need me.”

I dialed Stephan’s number and it went to voice mail. Stephan this is Steven give me a call as soon as you can. My number is,” and I left my cell number which seemed like a stupid thing to do because my number would be right there in his phone

I’m worried for Stella. They wouldn’t hurt her would they? I assumed that they were from that DeMeo guy’s gang. A hand full of other questions rolled through my mind over and over as I sped through the streets. Fortunately my office is only fifteen minutes from my house. I turn onto my street and I see two new black Cadillac Escalades in front of Greg’s house.

I whip into his driveway and jump out of my car. I see two goons up by the front door and another by the gate that goes through the fence that encloses their back yard. Buster is barking madly at the goon standing by the gate.

I attempt to enter the house and a goon puts a hand on my chest and frisks me for a weapon. When he’s satisfied that I don’t have an intercontinental ballistic missile under my suit coat he let me pass.

Inside there are three more big goons and two normal sized humans, one is the guy who got his nose broken by Stephan. He had a big bandage plastered over most of his face. The other guy looked like a cast member straight out of the movie Good Fellas. As soon as I enter Bandage Face whispers in Good Fellas ear.

My eyes are only for my wife and when I spy her huddled in the corner I rush toward her

Good Fella whipped around caught me by the front of my shirt, pulled my face close to his, and said. “Are you Steve Hawkings?”

I had been half in a daze with worry for my wife and when this guy grabbed me the rest of the room came into focus. I hear the dog barking.

Greg is in a chair to my right and he looked like he had been slapped around a bit. Mary has her arms around Stella and I had not realized that until that second. Stella was naked, something else that had not register till just then. Her being naked didn’t surprise me.

Good Fella shook me and yelled in my face. “ARE YOU STEVE HAWKINGS!”

My eyes focused on his mouth, his breath smelled of garlic. I answer. “No, no I, I’m Steve Harris you want Stephan Hawkings.” I start to tell him Greg hired him for security, but then I remembered Greg told me he had never heard of the guy. I glad I kept my mouth shut. The fucker would have probably beaten the shit out of Greg trying to get information that he didn’t have.

“Stephan Steven it’s all the same to Me.” the guy rants. “WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?” Buster’s barking is getting a bit more frantic.

I flinched when the guy yelled and stuttered. “I, I don’t know, that morning after the party was the first time I ever laid eyes on the guy.”

Mush nose steps forward and whispers to Good Fella again. Good Fella locked on to my eyes with his and said. “Frankie here,” he throws a thumb over his shoulder. “thinks you must know him because you told this Hawkins guy to rough them up.”

“NO! I never said a word to the guy!”

Broken nose guy steps forward again puts a bug in Good Fellas ear. When band-aid face stepped back Good Fella looked at me like I have snot running out of both nostrils and into my mouth. Then he makes a half question half statement. “You’re the fagot husband of the slut?”

Unfazed, I said. “Yes.”

He says, “I wanna know where this Stephan Hawkings guy is and somebody’s going to tell me or somebody’s naked whore is going to regret it.” Again he got in my face, but this time he didn’t have my shirt in his fist. The closer he got, the more I bent backwards as I was right up against the couch. Buster has calmed a bit, but is still making a racket.

Then Good Fella said in a calm, almost pleasant voice. “The Boss is very upset. His son is in the hospital. The kid can’t move. He can talk, he can move his arms, but not his legs,” His voice begins rising in volume and emotion. “or nothing else down there! CAPISCI?”

“Yes, I understand, and it was a very unfortunate accident and I’m sure Stephan regrets injuring the Bosses son, I know I am upset about it and wish it never happened.”

“Stephan,”

“No I’m Steven.”

“No you idiot! You just called Hawkings ‘Stephan’ like he’s your friend.”

“Oh, well yeah, ... that’s because since the ... altercation, we have gotten to know each other a little, but that doesn’t mean that I know where he is. I don’t even know where he lives. Look, look, I’ll tell you everything I know.” I fished the paper with Stephan’s phone number on it and handed it to him. He looked at it and handed it to busted nose guy. Frankie flat nose looked at the number and whispered in Good Fellas ear. Buster is still barking.

“WE have this fucking phone number AND we know where the asshole lives and he ain’t there. We checked last night!”

“He was at my house last night.” I said before I thought.

Good Fella showed surprise and slowly turned and looked at me. At that moment he reminded me of the Three Stooges in the episode where they do that thing, “Slowly I turn, step by step.” As soon as I said he had been at my house I knew it was a mistake.

“What the fuck was he doing at your house?” He screamed and charged at me.

I ducked and threw my hands up. I thought he was going to hit me.

“He was fucking my wife!” I shouted quickly back at him. The barking is louder again.

“Well if he knows you well enough to be fucking your wife you must know him pretty good then huh.”

“No, no. I met him for the first time at the party.”

“Bull shit.” He spat. “Somebody shut that fucking dog up. Shot the mutt if you have to.

Mary jumped out of the corner and screamed. “NO! Please no. He’s just protecting his territory. If you just move your man away from the gate he’ll stop.”

One of the goons pulled a pistol with a silencer on it from under his coat and moved toward the back door. He reached for the knob.

In the meantime Broken nosed kid is whispering in Good Fella’s ear and the capo holds up his hand and says. “Wait.” The goon about to open the door stopped.

Good Fella looked with a nasty grin and said. “I think you know where this Stephany guy is.” he looked over at Stella with a bizarre look in his eyes.

Somehow I know that look means that my wife is going to be used to force the information he thinks I know out of me.

I franticly shake my head no. “No. I don’t, honest.” Like saying ‘honest’ was going to be the thing that swayed him.

He heard it too and looked at me with his hands open like he was carrying an invisible soap bubble. “Oh, well you said ‘honest’ that makes all the difference in the world. Come on guys. This jamoke don’t know where Hawking’s is, he said honest.”

Good Fella looked me in the eye and he said, “Bring the mutt inside.”

He walked over to my trembling wife and grabs her by the hair, drags her to the couch and threw her at it. She hit the back cushions the sofa slid two feet across the floor. She landed on her side, then quickly pushed herself up in to a sitting position. Good Fella kicked her legs apart and told her. “Keep those gams open whore and if you close them I’m gonna bash you’re husband’s head in.”

The goon that went to get Buster came back in pulling the dog roughly by the collar.

Good Fella told the goon to let the dog go. Buster is excited and ran around the room sniffing everyone; his tail is wagging a mile a minute. Eventually he headed to Mary and it looked to me like he was going to sniff her crotch, but Mary stopped him and pushed him away. He sat just looking at her. Good Fella signaled to Frankie flat face.

The young man with the bandaged face hooked Busters collar and drug the dog between Stella’s legs.

When the dog smelled the cunt before him he began licking her twat.

Good Fella took the gun from the goon, pressed it to the back of my head and commanded me to. “Jack the mutts cock and get him hard.”

I wanted to refuse, but that gun convinced me to do whatever he said. I dropped down next to the dog, reached under him and started moving my fingers over the sheath that his dick is enclosed in. Buster stopped licking pussy long enough to look at me then he went back to my wife’s dripping hole.

Good Fella said to Frank. “Grab the dog.” The broken beaked boy grabbed Busters collar and pulled him away from Stella’s pussy.

Good Fella orders my wife. “Get on the floor on your hands and knees whore.” Stella began whining and crying, “No, please, have mercy no. don’t do this. Please” but she still complied with his demand and got on her hands and knees, all the while continuing to plead and beg.

Good Fella looked at me and said. “See your puttana knows where this is headed. Just tell me where I can find this guy and it all stops.”

I said. “Really, I don’t know.”

The Good Fella Guy explodes, ranting about all you godless heathens that threw an orgy on the high holy days celebrating Jesus rising from the dead.

Busted nose guy whispers in his ear again. I’m beginning to hate that guy.

Good Fella says “You’re shitting me.”

Asshole Frank just nods.

Good Fella says, “So you like eating cum from your wife’s cunt.”

“Yes, I have been known to lick her spermed pussy on occasion, ‘human’ sperm.” I stress the word human.

He looked at mouth breathing Frank and asks. “Sperm’s pretty much sperm, isn’t it?”

Of course that gauze covered fuck nodded again.

“Crawl under your whore and lick her figa.” He’s waving the gun around as he speaks.

I have no idea what her figa is, but I assume it’s Italian for pussy or something like that. I drop to my knees and roll over on my back and scoot up under her till I can kiss her cunt. I give it a few licks and I imagined I just tasted dog slobber because the dog had just been licking her.

“That’s enough.” Good Fella says. “Last chance fagot. Where is Hawkings?”

I’m crying, Stella is still pleading for a reprieve. I blubber. “Please don’t do this, don’t you think I would tell you if I knew. I hardly know the guy. I don’t owe him any loyalty.”