"When I was in the Marines we had this word to describe bad situations. You know the word I mean – I think you know it ... don't you? Those circumstances where you should turn right but you went left. When your plan calls for you to observe and report but you end up in a gun battle, yeah, we called it a FUBAR. You know what I mean, don't ya? Sometimes the FUBAR goes both ways, sometimes that is all you can hope for – that it gets fucked up by the other guy as well," Gabriella said, she lit her cigarette and exhaled a thick stream of smoke as she continued. "Thinking back, this all started with a moonlight drive in the mountains."
Yellow moonlight bathed the serene countryside in its pale glow. The full moon hung in the sky above the trees and mountains as clouds moved across the bloated orb, the forest would darken, then lighten as they passed. The Rolls Royce maneuvered the tight, twisting, mountain road with ease, the chauffeur had driven the route thousands of times over the years. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he smiled at the woman in the back seat.
"He is very pleased Miss Gabby," he said, returning his attention to the road. "Been bragging about his 'little girl' all week." Lifting an eyebrow, she couldn't help but be amused at being called anyone's 'little girl.' Just like her uncle, though.
Growing up in the mob has its privileges, doors opened for you, the best colleges falling over each other to take you as a student. It shocked the family when she refused their generous offers to her, to make it on her own in the world. Even so, there was a strong allure about the life, after the death of her father she volunteered to perform the requital. When she got the man who did the hit she found, much to her amazement, she enjoyed killing him. When Gabriella eliminated the boss who ordered the hit on her father she found her true calling.
Keeping her job as a mechanic for a cover she also did work for her uncle, on an irregular basis. Over the past weeks she spent more time working for her uncle than the garage. She wondered why her uncle, Thomas O'Neil, wanted her this night. What was so important it wouldn't wait until morning? As the car pulled onto the private drive, she also wondered why at the cabin and not in town.
The gravel crunched under the wheels of the car as it pulled up to the large cabin. On the massive porch stood her uncle, the portly man smoked a cigar while holding an eight ounce drinking glass filled with a dark reddish-brown fluid.
The driver opened her door, Gabriella got out of the car as her uncle descended the steps to meet her. "Gabby, Gabby, Gabby I'm so happy to see you," he said, engulfing her in his massive arms. Patting her on the back he kissed her cheek, turning he looked at the driver, "She's spending the night so put the car up." Thomas never understood why is niece had made herself into this muscle bound superwoman. He wondered where he had gone wrong, where is brother and sister-in-law had fucked up with her.
The oversized fireplace sat with no warm fire burning that night, firewood stacked in place ready to be lit. Sitting in his oversized stuffed chair Thomas looked at his niece, smiling. He watched as she implemented her ritual with salt, tequila, and lime. "You should drink whiskey, Irish whiskey or scotch not that south of the border shit," he told her.
"I like it," she insisted.
"Yeah, okay I guess," he sounded irritated. Gabriella's mother walked in the room. She hit him on the back.
"Leave her alone, Tommy," she said. Her mother leaned down kissing her daughter. "See me in the morning before you leave, not to early though." She moved to the door behind her daughter turned and mouthed to Thomas, "Come see me." Pointing an index finger at him first then turning it to herself. He nodded to her a smile on his face. Then Gabby's mother was gone.
"Well how you been 'little girl'?" he asked.
"Okay, got me a new girlfriend."
"Yeah, I know that is part of the reason I had you come here. Okay, our Sicilian friends called and wanted you to make a peace offering to that prick, Chandler." Her smiled turned into a frown, "You know, the families bought in numbers man. Never respected a gangster that had to pay to be part of a group." Nodding she pulled a cigarette from the pack, placed it in her mouth and lit it. "Anyway, you took his squeeze from him, no problem there, but you beat the hell out of him. They got a big problem with that." She clenched a fist stiffening up, "They want you to pay for the new teeth, the hospital bill, and some pain-and-suffering. They thought forty-five-thousand should cover it all."
"I won't do that, I fucking will not do that, I won't pay that cocksucker a fucking dime," she said standing as she spoke.
"Sit down," her uncle said motioning with his hands. "I told them you wouldn't and that was an end to it." Sitting down Gabby poured another shot and did her normal drinking routine. "Then they called back... ," she broke in on him in anger.
"Shut up ... girl ... just listen to me," he said, perturbed with her. "You always assume you know what I'm going to say. Well, this time, your wrong, dead wrong – they did an audit and he is missing some money. A lot of money and they want you to recover it," he said, leaning his head back he drank down the half full water glass of alcohol. "The bastards won't tell me the amount; I guess they don't want you to skim off of the top if there is more than they have calculated." Gabby smiled again leaned forward in her seat clutching the arms of the chair.
"You're an assassin what do you think they want?" He pondered what else to tell her then added, "Normally they would handle this in house, recover the money, cut off a finger, or two and send him packing. Not like the good old days, now it takes more than skimming to get you killed." He puffed at his cigar for a moment while Gabby squashed out her own cancer stick, waiting for her uncle to continue.
"A certain family member's daughter comes into this situation. A girl of tender years, let us just say a minor. Their numbers man sees this girl, that is where it begins seeing something and then wanting it. So, he sees her and he wants her. Only Chandler goes beyond the sin of coveting this girl. Befriending her, seeing her on the down low, despoiling her. This little girl, a child, he fucks her and fucks her. When her belly ends up swollen her father asking her who did this to you. At first she resists telling on him. You know she thinks they are in love, like an old pig grunting on top of some little girl is love, his spit running down her face as he hammers his old cock into her pussy. The bastard gazing down at her innocent little face ... like that fucking shit is ever love." His voice grew louder, like he was angry at something.
"I'll tell you something else," he rose to his feet, smacking his fist into his hand, "fucking someone ain't love ... fucking don't count for shit," he told her. "He's just another sick motherfucker!" his voice returned to normal. "What made her change her mind – no one knows," sitting back down he picked his cigar back up, "but, she spilled the beans not long after they found out about the missing money." He puffed the cigar till the tip burned cherry red and the smoke swirled around his head, "She confesses everything, sneaking out at night to see him. Him picking her up at school and her cutting classes to fuck him. Now they got themselves this bastards child and they want ... you know ... they just want the father to disappear."
"A family dissolution," she licked her lips becoming agitated, the thought of killing always excited her, no it was more than that, her pussy moistened.
"You're to use extreme prejudice in this disillusionment – his body is not to be found. They further request he has a slow and agonizing departure. Business is business, we all do business with each other, but family, that's different – family is family when you fuck with family, you're really fucked then. So, here's the deal, fifty-thousand for the hit and a five percent finder's fee on funds recovered, I have a five percent negotiation fee. Interested?" Her Uncle already knew the answer.
"Sounds like fun," she said, squirming in her seat.
Later that night Thomas fucked the shit out of Gabriella's mother, Shauna, as she covered her mouth with a pillow to avoid Gabby hearing her screams of ecstasy. Her on her knees face down in a pillow, ass up and Thomas his knees holding her broad hips as he pounds her twat, his big fat gun bouncing over ass with each thrust. Each knew if Gabriella every learned the truth, the horrible truth, she would kill them both. Shauna knew they deserved to die.
Tammy lay on her back, head propped up on big fluffy pillows, her knees up while down between her legs Gabriella munched at her wet snatch. Running her tongue over her lips, then at the hood, she coaxed out the clit. Teasing the clit, she tongued that little nub bringing out the purr in Tammy. Putting her thumb on the little button, she tongued fucked her while rubbing little circles on her clit, she lapped up Tammy's juice.
The pressure built in a slow, deliberate manner – at first gooseflesh broke over her entire body. Next her nipples hardened, as her hands ran over her own breast her nipples hardened more, all the while her lover dined on the sweet nectar of her sopping crotch. Her ragged breathing hastened as Tammy moaned softly, her hips thrust into Gabby's face. Tammy legs wrapped around Gabriella's head then snaked down her back. Moans grew louder, more frequent and streams of profanity-punctuated filled the air. A rush of pleasure made her body quiver as deep waves of euphoria passed through her very fiber. He body and emotions a jumble of razor sharp feelings. Physical and emotional pleasure engulfed her and her entire body trembled, writhed, and bucked as their horizontal dance continued.
When Gabriella shoved her scratchy callused thumb up Tammy's rectum, it sent her over the top. Small gushes of thick lubrication coated Gabby's face, Tammy exploded in violent climax. In rapture of emotion, a flourish of profanity streamed from her mouth followed by silence. Her hands clutched the sheets as her toes curled then all tension passed as her tight young body went limp. Finally, as she lay in a heap, moaning in a soft voice, "I love you so much."
The couple lay there for a long period holding each other, eventually, they kissed and stroked each other again and the positions reversed. At four am, after hours of lovemaking, Tammy curled up against the bigger woman's back, gently feeling the hard sinew of her body.
"What you did to Chandler was..." she searched for the words, "impressive ... Yeah, I know ... well, it takes a special kind of person to do that, forceful, cold, and very cruel." Tammy told her, her voice raspy as if she was again in the throes of passion. Gabby wasn't sure how to take the comment.
"He knew before I did it that I would," Gabriella told her, then added, "does it bother you?"
"No, I loved it ... watching you beat the shit out of him was thrilling. Seeing your power and strength, yeah, I knew right then I wanted to be yours," she said. "I want to watch you really kick the shit out of someone ... I want see you beat them till they can't even get up. I think about it and I get ... oh god forgive me ... I get so wet." Gabriella pulled her tight then whispered to her.
"The right woman can be more dangerous than a loaded gun," she reached down rubbing her pussy gain. "That asshole and I have known each other for several years. Always been bad blood between us, when he saw you walking with me – he fucking knew I had taken you from him." Stopping she turned her back to her, "If I hadn't confronted him, he would have attacked me." Gabby said, moving to the edge of the bed she rolled onto her back. Taking a cigarette from the pack lighting up she reached out with her hand stroking the girls face. The girl crawled to her laid her head on Gabriella's shoulder.
Days passed as Gabby waited for the word, the word to take him. The accomplice on the inside met her and they discussed the takedown. The day, the hour, and the place were set in three days she would capture Chandler, take him to this house in the country, persuade him to tell her where the money was and how to recover it. Gabriella would then give the information to his bosses and turn her attention back to Chandler.
After all of that, Gabby would get down to the meat and potatoes of the assignment. Remind him what he did to his boss's daughter, slowly, deliberately, she would torture him. The prolonged agony would be an aphrodisiac for her, she would rape him several times before she killed him. The sensations of his fear. Mingled with sexual exhilaration, and pain would fuel her own pleasure.
Everyone had already left the garage as Gabriella cleaned her hands. The organ cleaner felt good and smelled good. Most of the grease came out but there was still a thick layer under her fingernails. Holding her hands out she turned them over, curled her fingers toward the palms then held them out viewing them, "Damn, don't look like a girl's mitts at all."
She pulled her bomber jacket from hook, walked out of the garage, locked up and quickly got on her cycle. Pulling into the alley, which was her habit, she shot down the corridor. The feeling of the rope hammering her chest, the motorcycle continuing one without her, and the hard concert thumping her back confused her. The bike hurtled into a dumpster and crashed to the ground, with the wind knocked from her lungs she struggled to get to feet. The rope dropped to the ground and two goons stepped out of the doorways where they had been concealed.
Struggling to breathe Gabby looked at the men preparing for the attack. His hand went up the gun pointed at her, two points of sharp pain hit her belly followed by the shock. Her muscles tensed up, trembled as her whole body convulsed. Gabriella plunged to the inflexible asphalt her body shuddering and quaking as the massive electric shock hurled through her body.
Darkness engulfed her, as she went under it passed through her mind. "This is a setup, but was it the inside man or the Sicilian mob?"
The swirling smoke had a foul smell to it, a noxious odor of burnt plastic, or perhaps cat piss but not heavy just this faint sent. Then there was another stench, oh she knew that one, that potent slightly skunky aroma. Her brain finally registered it all a mixture of CRACK and pot shit she was in the hands of stoners.
Opening her eyes, she saw him, her contact, sucking in on a joint, a sick smile on his face. "Boss, ... the..." he coughed, speaking in a voice not quite right as he tried to hold the smoke in, "the cunt's awake," he continued coughing and hacking as he spoke. Great, they gave me a fucking pot head as a helper.
"Yeah, I got eyes Jimmy," Chandler said, standing up he moved toward her. "Imagine that, I got you all strapped up – bitch." The chair a simple dining room chair, with arms. Her wrist were tied to the arms her calves to the legs of the chair. "You're trussed up like a fucking turkey."
He held a cattle prod in his hand waving it around like he was a drum major. Gabby gazed around the room, taking in her situation in an instant. She was at the mercy of Chandler and the two bastards that took her back at the garage. Struggling hard, she tried in vain to slip the ropes.