Chapter 5

A couple minutes after awakening from my too brief nap, thoughts congealed. I lay in Sandy's bed late in the afternoon, and I needed to head to Charlie's restaurant/club/office quickly. I knew the group of six would be having dinner on the first floor, the Peleg, before heading up to the ebony oval desk beside Charlie's office on the third floor for their impromptu meeting. I figured if I arrived before them, I needed to be at the concrete block building within a half an hour. I scanned my reflection in Sandy's full length mirror. The black aloha shirt with big poppies scattered about, the black slacks and the black penny loafers that I slipped on looked fine, though the pants and shirt looked a bit rumpled from the nap as did my hair. Sprinting to the bathroom, I cranked the faucet's hot water on, letting the tepid water run through until the full heat came out. Plugging the drain, I filled the basin with the steaming liquid creating enough steam to dampen the air and my clothes. With a couple of pulls, the clothes smoothed out. I splashed the hot water on my face and stroked it through my blond wavy hair, taming its medium length wildness. After returning to the full body reflection in Sandy's bedroom mirror, I felt ready for the night's adventures, at least visually. Thinking about hiding in Charlie's table amidst dangerous men, including my father, and wondering how Sandy was doing up north with our new friend, Detective Nakamoto, going after some lethal thieves got my heart to speed up and thump loud enough to echo in my ears.

When I arrived at Charlie's, I hadn't spotted Charlie's Rolls Royce or Freddy's Porsche, but then I saw two cars I didn't want to: my father's BMW and Moe's Checker. Moe hid behind the newspaper he read in his cab, which was good. I didn't want him to spot me in case of his involvement somehow in Kim's and my dad's liaisons, which he must have been, and would somehow warn them. First I checked out the restaurant, using the employee entrance. I pretended to the chef, a man who I had a nice casual friendship with, that I had a craving for his amazing chocolate raspberry parfait, and needed a fix. With a chuckle he fixed me up. I downed it in seconds with a glass of milk, feeling like a kid again, but at the same time deceptive little detective, glancing out into the restaurant and not seeing my father or Kim. I slipped out the employees' entrance with quick thanks to the chef and jumped into the service elevator to ride it up to Bildad, the second floor party room.

Once I entered the sound proof room filled with oversized pillows, I heard the whir of a movie projector and the distorted sounds coming from the film projected. "Heaven, I'm in Heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak..." Fred Astaire sang "Cheek to Cheek."

In the middle of the room, halfway between the projector and the screen, my father waltzed with my lover. They held each other tight barely moving, rubbing their bodies, his crotch into her stomach and hers against his thigh. She wore her sister's little black dress, and he'd put on his nicest suit. I could discern in the darkness that her face was beautifully made up. Her eyes had been closed, but when she opened them, I knew she spotted me. She said nothing, did nothing, didn't even seem to react.

I carefully followed the corridor which circled this infamous room, used for orgies, drug parties, all types of illicit misadventure. Finally viewing the film amazed me. Cathy, looking exactly like Kim, danced with Fred, not Astaire, but the weasel faced ex-colonel Fred Niblock. When the film image of Cathy pushed Fred away, Kim did the same to my father. Then the two sisters began a strip tease. They slipped the spaghetti straps off their shoulders, sliding the fabric to the edge of their nipples.

"Was it Freddy?" asked Kim. She pulled the dress up to her hips, barely hiding her pudendum, just like her sister did on celluloid.

"I don't know," said my dad. One of Kim's and her sister's hands rubbed her nipple, the other reached under the dress to rub her pussy.

"Did Freddy kill my sister?"

"I don't know, my poor darling." The dress slid down their torsos, revealing their amazing breasts. The two sisters cupped and pinched the breasts, then pinched and twisted their nipples. "I don't know who killed her."

The sisters raised the dress above their hips, revealing the neatly trimmed pubic hair. The dress was a black ring of cloth circling their lower back and abdomen. Fingers dove into the pussy while the other hand continued to caress their breasts. Both sisters said "Take off your pants; show me what you got, big boy."

"Kim, please..."

"You want this," said Kim, pushing her pussy towards my dad's face. "You want this anymore; you better do what I say."

My dad removed his pants and underpants, revealing his erect cock.

"Oooh," the sisters said. "Big and hard and ready for loving, just the way I like it. Now lick my cunt 'til your face is wet."

The two men obeyed. The sisters pulled off their dresses and flung them away.

"You can do better than that," they both said, putting their hands around the lovers' heads and pushing them against their crotches. "That's better. Oooh." They both even sighed the same.

The song changed to "Embraceable You". Both sisters sank down until, with their hands guiding them, the cocks slipped inside. Then they sank down farther until my father's and Fred's cocks hid completely inside. They began to rock back and forth.

"What do you care about Niblock, Neddy?" Kim said to my father, her voice steady and unchanged by the fucking. "Tell me the truth."

"Ooh," my father groaned. Obviously despite the horror Kim paraded before him, he liked to fuck her. But he did find some way to say, "I hate the fucker. I just don't know if he, if he or anybody killed her. I don't know."

Both sisters rose up. They grabbed a tube of KY, Kim's out of her purse and Cathy's from somewhere off screen. They handed the tubes to their lovers. "Fuck my ass you dirty old man," they both said. With their heads on the floor, they stuck their asses high in the air.

Fred took hardly any time to slick up his cock before jamming it in. "Ow," said Cathy. Despite her obvious pain, Fred fucked her fast. Her face twisted in a grimace. My father, bless his soul, took his time making sure he was as slippery as possible, and covering Kim's asshole with the jelly as well. "Hurry up, you're fucking things up," said Kim, but I could tell she appreciated his care.

By the time my father had broken through the sphincter and stroked his cock slowly and carefully inside, a little more than an inch deeper with each push, Uncle Fred had stopped his relentless pounding. His face reddened as his body twitched. The mean little fucker was done.

"Someone to Watch over Me," reverberated from the little projector speakers when General Nguyen appeared on the screen. Cathy was giving him a blow job. She deep throated the chubby naked old man. Even while enjoying a peerless fellating, his face looked stern.

"It was Uncle Anh Dung, wasn't it?" Kim's voice sounded less steady, deeper. My father stroked deep and slow, fingers of one hand pleasuring her clit while the other hand's fingers played with her nipples. He broke through her anger enough to give her some sexual bliss.

"I don't know, darling. If I knew, I'd tell you."

"Oh shit," moaned Kim. "Harder, fuck me harder, goddamn it. You're going to make me cum, goddamn it. Oh yes. You and your son, you always make me cum. Aaah." She lifted her torso, pushing her back against my father, twisting it enough to keep his cock inside. He pressed a finger hard against her clit and squeezed her nipple. Little spasms shook her petite torso, her large breast not being touched shook. I suddenly realized how hard and near to cumming I'd become.

Suddenly she sprawled on the floor crying. Just as suddenly she stood over my father, still on his knees, still sporting a raging boner. On the screen, Kim's sister got pummeled by her uncle, this time in the missionary position and in the usual hole. She grimaced in pain

"You did it!" screamed Kim. "You had the most to lose, Mr. Goody Two Shoes. You paid her blackmail first! You needed her gone! Maybe you wanted to fuck her, but felt guilty about cheating on me with my little slut sister! Maybe you went mad!" She slapped him hard, repeatedly. Surprisingly, my dad, a man with a notorious temper, just took it.

He stood up, grabbed her arms and whispered, "Darling, I would never hurt you. I wanted to help you. I wanted to help your sister. Yes, I did pay the extortion."

The song changed to "Always." Uncle John Henry, the general, became the new john. He gave Cathy cunnilingus, and Kim's sister, sitting on the general's face seemed to be enjoying it. After a couple deep swallows of the General's cock, he rearranged their position. He stroked his cock from behind deliberately into her pussy. My dad and Kim held each other and watched. Without paying much attention to what she did, Kim gave my dad a hand job. Cathy's body swayed and bounced with each impact into her ass. Her tits jiggled most becomingly. She actually looked happy to be doing her job.

"She was beautiful, despite her messed up life," said Kim, sadly.

"Yes she was." Kim's hand affected my dad. She noticed his reaction, paused to apply some KY to her hands, and returned to pleasuring him. She massaged his balls as well as pulling his penis. When Cathy and John Henry climaxed together, my dad joined them, his ejaculate spurting out onto the floor of the room. The thought of how much sperm had found the floor of this den of iniquity made me cringe.

Dad's hard-on still ebbed when he walked over to the projector and silenced it. He walked back to Kim and climbed into his underwear and pants.

"So why didn't you fuck her?" asked Kim, still naked.

"She wasn't my type," he said, matter-of-factly, as if stating the obvious.

"And how am I your type?"

"Well, you're just as beautiful as your sister, but you're smarter than her, smarter than most, and you're funny, and you're honest, and you don't take shit."

"Especially not from you, my bad little boy. Now lie down and don't move," Amazingly he obeyed with haste. "You are going to tell me why you didn't have anything to do with my sister. You are going to tell me why you had me hire your son. You're going to tell me who you think killed her. And if you don't give me any satisfactory answer," she sat on his chest, her legs wide open, her pussy spread in front of his face. "You'll never get a taste of this again."

She winked at me. The flabbergasted look on my face made her smile.

"Like I said, Mistress," began my dad, "I could never hurt you or your sister, despite her threats and extortion. Though I never knew her, especially not since Vietnam, she was your sister, and therefore deserved all the respect in the world from me." Kim nodded her head and began to play with her pussy, slipping a couple fingers inside and pressing and rubbing her clit with another. Dad must have realized her juices would stain his silk tie. "Can I remove my tie and open my shirt, Mistress?"

"You may not, you dirty little slave boy. You will wear the stains of my pleasure, and smell them, lest you forget what you will miss. Now stop delaying and tell me!"

"Since your sister was after me, I figured she would be after the rest of the group. Knowing how dangerous my little group of, uh, businessmen could be, I decided that she needed to be protected. It wasn't John Henry or even Charlie I was worried about. I knew John would either pay her or ignore her, but would never destroy her. And Charlie just couldn't be bothered. If the actions of ten years ago came to light, he would have found a way, as he always does, to divert the blame or negotiate some brilliant solution. Killing Cathy would have been more trouble than it was worth to him."

Kim masturbated into excitement. "Give me a lick with your little tongue, Neddy. You're doing well." She lifted her pussy to his mouth. He licked her lips and sucked her clit until she neared orgasm. But then she eased off. "You're not quite there yet." She continued her masturbation, a little slower this time.

"But I thought about your uncle and Fred. I knew they're both cruel and ruthless. I began doing research. Naively, maybe wishfully, I thought that the whole drug thing that got this started, that got my business going and so on, had ended once our business got off the ground. Sam and I looked into the coincidental relationship between heroin, and specifically China White, and the larger export and larger import locations over the past few years. Don't get me wrong, I am involved with finding buyers and sellers. But the biggest transactions have always been Fred's.

"Every year or so, Fred would hook up with a huge export situation out of Thailand or Turkey or Iran. Inevitably there would be a huge explosion in two or three cities in the United States and Canada. In Canada it was most often Montreal, but would be in Toronto or Vancouver as well. Your uncle could be traced to the cities, often directly to the buyers. Even in the US, such relationships, though less clear, could be seen in northern cities such as Buffalo, Cleveland and Detroit."

Kim got close again. Part of the reason might have been me letting my cock out and stroking it. We stared into each other's eyes across the dark room. She mouthed something silently to me which looked like "I wish you could fuck me now."

"Are you okay, Mistress?" asked my dad.

"Don't stop!" she ordered. I'm not sure who she ordered, but since I had stopped my stroking I suspected it me. When she said, "Finish me off, Neddy, I gotta cum." I was sure.

She lifted her quim to his mouth, which he ravished. When he brought his hands up to help her ravishment she ordered him to "just use your mouth, slave!" Then she stared at me while her hands played with her breasts, pulling hard on her nipples, and with her clit, stroking it fast. Pushing her cunt hard onto his face, practically suffocating and drowning him in cum at the same time, she was seized by a mighty orgasm. She cried out with pleasure, perhaps to hide the deep breaths and pants of my own climax, the product of which spewed harmlessly onto the ignoble floor. Once the last of the sperm exited my penis, Kim watching it lustfully while licking her lips, I returned my slackening flesh into its hiding place, and hid my whole body a little better.

"Thank you Ned. That was good. Now continue."

"Where was I?" said my father, sounding out of breath. I don't know if it was his recent near suffocation or his own orgasm, not being able to see if any new wet spot appeared in the crotch of his pants. "Oh yes. Sam discovered the clear relationship with the exporter and heroin manufacturing and we both found out about importing and the explosion of heroin in very specific cities. With Iran, it wasn't China White, it was Persian Gold, which ended up in New York and Boston, both involved with large import purchases. As far as Fred goes, the specifics weren't clear. We could find no relationships with the buyers and him. Maybe it was his general paranoia that made him more careful, but probably it was that your uncle didn't give a shit if he was traceable or not. The guy feels like he's untouchable, probably since what happened with your mother and father. I'm sorry," Dad said when he heard her gulp down the pain of the old memory. She was lying beside him; her head nestled on his shoulder. They looked like an old loving couple, which I unfortunately knew they were.

"But our timing was bad. Everything was set up. We figured that Fred planned sending the transfers through the newest warehouse acquisition over the past couple of years, he having been the catalyst for me acquiring that space. We waited for some fresh heroin to appear there for a couple of months. A couple days ago a large shipment of Buddhas arrived from Thailand bearing a whole shitload of heroin. Unfortunately it was too late to save your sister."

"But how can you say that you don't know who killed her?" Kim exclaimed.

"Because I don't darling. I suspect, Sam suspects Fred and/or your uncle is involved, but we don't know."

"But why involve Joe?"

"I thought my son could help with the set up. He and Sandy would collect a nice reward for some stolen Buddhas as well, which we found out had been taken by a couple of workers at the warehouse. And then when your sister's murder..."

"How did you know... ?"

"Sam recognized her..."

"But Nakamoto said..."

"Nakamoto?"

"He's the detective working my sister's murder. He said they had to find out her identity."

"Sam couldn't identify her. It would have created real problems for us. Nakamoto probably figured that out," Dad explained. Kim nodded. "So anyway, Joe's got a knack for solving cases."

"But then he'd find out you were involved."

"Yeah. I'm some kind of father, aren't I? There was just too much poison, ten years of poison festering in our systems. It finally killed your sister. My son would find the truth of it. Maybe I'm too weak to tell him up front. This way he might just know everything. Maybe then he could forgive me, even if I can't forgive myself."

"And at the same time you pawned me off on him."

"Do you love him?"

"I love making love to him. But I could never love him as purely as I love my one and only slave, no matter how undeserved that slave might be."

There was silence. Finally Kim asked, "So you brought Joe to me to find my sister's murderer?"

"Originally we wanted him part of the set up connecting Fred and your uncle with the heroin. But by the time I let you know where to find him, I thought, yes, he could solve it."

"But why send me? Did you think we'd fall in love?"

"Yes."

"And that I'd leave you for him?"

"Yes."

"And that he'd still want me once he finds out I'm your lover."

"I don't know. You are an amazing woman."

"And you are one fucked up man. I bet you got off knowing you were licking the pussy that just got fucked by your son. That cum spot on your pants is going to be hard to explain. But do you know what? I don't care. I don't care that your son is strong and smart and honest and cares about people who need to be cared about. I don't even care that I love him. What I care about is being with a man who is proud and strong and righteous, who commands and is obeyed, and who needs me to command him and to be obeyed by him. I need to take hold of that evil little boy inside the powerful righteous man and whip and chain and beat him into my own love slave and have him worship me and cower before me and eat my shit if I so command. You are my love, you pathetic asshole."

"Yes Mistress. I have to go, my darling. Will you let me go eat with my partners?"

"Go!" commanded Kim. I dove for cover until he left.

Kim stood over me naked. Her legs spread a little. Her hands clasped her hips. Her body said "Mistress," but her face had a caring and concerned expression. She reached her hand down to help me up, which seemed a little absurd considering her petite stature and my tall body, but absurdity being the rule of thumb for the day, I let her assist me to my feet, and damned if her strength was up for the challenge.

It felt good to hold her naked body against me even with my clothes on. We shared a warm and gentle and soft and awfully brief kiss. We shared a most peculiar and perhaps impossible love in that kiss.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Me too," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I love you," I explained. "And I am thinking of a million ways to steal you from Daddy. I heard you say you love me, so I might succeed. I'm sorry that I would never do that, that I could never have you all for my own. Why? Because it would be the most selfish, the coldest, the most revenge filled thing I could ever do. I'm way too young for you. It has to do with maturity. I'm still a child as far as love is concerned, a child with toys. One day one toy rules over all others. The next day the toy breaks. I shed a tear. Or it doesn't even break. I just lose interest. But basically another toy comes along, which I love more than anything. I may have fond memories of the last toy, but I have most definitely moved on. But a person isn't a toy, to state the obvious. A person is a complex thing that feels broken, that feels loss at being shunted aside, that becomes angry and resentful, that often even shunts me aside, giving me all those emotions. No, even though I wish we could be together, even for as little time as would be available for us with my lack of maturity, you have found your love, the kind that lasts, even if it is fucking bizarre."

"Yeah. You've got to help me look like my sister again. Where's the bathroom?"