Not Quite a White Knight Book 1
Copyright© 2018 by LolaPaul
Chapter 45: Meanwhile, Marie and Mark
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 45: Meanwhile, Marie and Mark - Left alone for her 21st birthday, Gracie wanted something special sexually, something rougher than her usual mommy-approved boyfriends. But once she left the car things were not quite as advertised; she found herself on a path that took a sharp turn towards "Does Not End Well." Just in time she was rescued. But he was not a white knight so her life took another sharp turn.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa NonConsensual Rape Heterosexual Fiction Crime Sharing Incest Father Daughter Aunt BDSM MaleDom Light Bond Rough Anal Sex Analingus Sex Toys Squirting Violence
Saturday Morning Through Sunday
Mark had called me Saturday morning. He had been busy after his last talk with me, murdering Tuccos and had collected one more to talk to. He had reached some decisions, taken actions and alibied himself along the way. His wife was going to join Gracie and he wanted to bring both his captives to me. I gave him instructions for both.
Marie flew to KC Saturday morning. There a ticket was waiting for her at the KC airport. She took a commuter flight to Des Moines where Gracie and Courm met her at the gate. They were all in the car when Marie told Gracie about her mother’s death. Brenda had used Gracie as a solid gold meal ticket for years, but she was still her mother. Now Gracie had nobody except those she chose. From Des Moines it was a drive to Detroit, Courm and Marie alternated driving. When they got in Marie tried to call Mark, only to leave a voicemail. That actually helped his alibi. She was safe and was free to leave at any time. Eventually I arranged for her to talk to Mark without blowing his alibi.
Saturday early Mark took his wife to the airport, then he was seen at the yacht club setting sail on the boat with a friend. At sea he was out of cell range and, again, established an alibi. Soon enough he got off the boat, swam ashore to where a car waited, picked up his two Tuccos, and drove several hours to a place where the Captain and I met him.
At a point about 40 minutes from the prison the Captain and I met Mark at a small house on a country road. Our faces were covered. We bagged him and put his car in the garage. Then we drove back to the prison with him and the Tuccos.
My terms, which he accepted, were that he would stay with us for 36 hours or less. When he left a Tucco would be dead by his hand, and I would have the proof of it. That was his bond, protecting me. He would be returned to his car. Neither of us trusted the other, the terms made that clear. He was committing a crime, but in exchange he had a chance to question the men without involving his team, in an enhanced state, and I would dispose of the bodies. Plus, of course, his wife was safe in my care, with the woman I called my mother. I gave him every chance to back out before we got to the prison. He replied that he became committed when he killed the majority of the Tuccos last night, now he was all in. Plus he needed to question the pair and I had the method to motivate their talk and then get rid of the bodies.
Inside the facility we hid our faces from the prisoners, but we had to uncover in the barracks wing. So Mark was confined to the prison wing, but within that wing I gave him complete access. For his bed we had a cell with the door rigged so it would not lock. I gave him a choice about his being masked, he agreed that if any one was going to be released he didn’t want the prisoners to see his face. In the observation chamber he could see all the prisoners on monitors and watch Sara’s questioning on them. He met Cynthia and all the soldiers, but they were masked.
Saturday evening Sara gave the usual introduction to each Tucco once he was ready in interrogation. They were very similar in their responses, each sullen and demanding a lawyer. So Sara zapped them - twice, at 2 and 3 - and told them there were no lawyers or civil rights here, they were on another planet for all intents. That made them more sullen so after her basic lecture the soldiers took then (naked, hooded with eye-slits closed, gaged and unable to see each other) directly to the yard and tied them to a pole for the extra 2 or 3 hour until the hell-fire show.
Mark and I had our talk, we used cameras and mikes because I needed to distort my voice. First I told him that his wife was bound for Detroit, where I had families and allies. She was with Gracie and my mother, guarded by two loyal cousins the size of linebackers. He appreciated that I was so invested in this.
I asked what had happened Friday, since his call.
First he told me about his decision. He saw things my way after our talk Friday morning, when his ex-wife’s body was removed from her home. They had made some really ugly cuts to her, then a police bullet killed her. He went home and had a talk with his wife, she agreed with what he planned. By noon Friday all items of value from the house were on their way to a storage unit. His office contained painting supplies, which explained why it was empty. Then he rigged sound and heat sources in the house so it seemed like two people were in a back bedroom, on the second floor. The first floor had cinder block walls which would contain and reflect any blast while the second floor was conventional construction. Thermobaric bombs (gas-air, like the hockey pucks in the Underworld movies, but much more powerful) were placed around the inside of the house. They were unique and untraceable. Mark’s two-year old house had always had a bulletproof door controlled by an electronic lock. His trap was set.
To construct an alibi he made sure he was seen by the cameras at the yacht club. He could leave and return to the boat, without the cameras seeing, by swimming underwater with a light scuba setup.
The Tuccos came after sundown Friday, just like they did at Brenda’s. They ran the exact same play, except they wore heavier body armor and nobody stayed outside, one guy was in the cable truck a couple of blocks away. Once they were all inside the door locked. There was a five-second delay between when the bombs started to hiss gas, and when the sparks ignited the gas. The explosion was epic. Cinder block walls kept the strawberry jelly that had been the Tuccos contained. Distance made sure no other house was damaged. It was all captured by cameras and an edited version went to the police, eventually.
Mark snatched his second captive from the cable van using a concussion grenade. Both captives stayed drugged until they saw Sara removing the needle with the antidote.
“You have had a very busy thirty-some hours my friend,” I said to Mark. “Soon you will be able to sleep. But first you should see some fireworks.”
By sundown Saturday my men set the two ninos (we had not made a deal yet) in the yard next to the Tuccos. Last the nino driver joined the circle, in the place of special treatment. It was a repeat from yesterday, with the soldier’s talk of religion, then with his mouth full of thermite he was taped. They put him in on his pole. I fitted his tire, added gasoline, greeted him with my face exposed, welcomed him to hell and tossed the match. Again, he burned. Nobody else heard the mercy shot, which took a little longer because he actually shot at me. Then the thermite caught.
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