Chapter 29

Alicia crept furtively through the dark and empty streets. Earlier, her Master had suggested that she again stay indoors under the protection of the mercenaries. He had also intimated that he had accomplished all he could in this city and, after he tied up one final bit of unfinished business, they would be leaving for fresh hunting grounds. Perhaps even New York.

Fortunately, her Master's suggestion had been just that rather than an order. She had some unfinished business of her own to attend to. Slipping past band after band of vampire hunters, she traveled to one of the least prosperous sections of the city.

She smiled when she saw the light shining out of his apartment window. She had correctly judged her quarry's nature. His apathy and laziness had overcome good sense; he hadn't evacuated. She peered carefully up and down the street before running up the rotting wooden steps that led to his door.

Her loud knocks soon prompted a voice to call from within, "Ha! I knew ya couldn't stand being away from me, Sally! I told ya that evacuation bullshit..."

His words cut off as he pulled the door open.

"Yer not Sally," he said accusingly. He then squinted at her through eyes bleary from alcohol, "Alicia? You get yer hair cut or sumtin'?"

She looked at him with disgust. He was dressed in a graying tank top and badly stained briefs. The tank top was too small; the hairy base of his beer belly protruded from below it and folded over the top of his dirty underwear.

"Hello, Harry," Alicia said sweetly. His head snapped backwards and he flew across the room as her upper cut connected with his chin.

"Cops are lookin' fer ya, bitch! Getcher skank ass outa here or I'll call 'em! I swear!" he screeched frantically as he scrambled across the floor away from her.

Kicking the door closed behind her, Alicia stalked him through the small, dreary apartment. "Our vow was 'until death do us part, ' Harry," she said calmly, "Not 'until some young whore flashes her tits at you.'"

She stood over his cowering form, her lips pursed in contemplation, "Hmm, now that I think about it, death probably already has parted us." Her voice grew lower in pitch and filled with menace, "But what do you say we just remove all doubt?"

He squealed as she lifted him from the floor by the front of his shirt. Drawing her hand back she slapped him repeatedly across the face. With each impact, a fine mist of blood sprayed out across the adjoining walls. An occasional displaced tooth clattered along the floor.

"Remember doing this to me after your binges?" she asked rhetorically, "Good times. Good times."

"I'm thorry!" he shouted through cracked and broken lips.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she replied, "Not by a long shot."

She drew the arm that gripped his shirt back and then rapidly forward. He slid across the floor before his head hit the opposite wall with a loud crack. As he clutched feebly at his head and mouth, she walked over to again stand above him.

"In all fifteen years that we were married, I don't think you once made me cum with that tiny little thing you think of as a cock," she said as she emphasized her point by bringing her foot down hard on the organ in question and then grinding her foot back and forth.

She withdrew her foot as he screamed and clutched at his injured member, curling up into a tight ball. She walked around him until she was standing by his head.

She pushed him over onto his back with her foot and stood on his upper arms to pin him there. "I think you owe me at least one good orgasm for putting up with fifteen years of your bullshit," she mused.

Drawing her dress up around her hips, she squatted down to grind her ass into his face. "I think licking my asshole would be a good place to start."

"Fuck you, bitch!" he shouted, though his words were muffled by her thighs.

"I don't think so, Harry," she replied calmly, "Not ever again. But you will lick my ass. Now."

When he continued to struggle, she took one of his hands in hers. Pulling his middle finger out straight, she twisted sharply. With a sound like popcorn popping, the bones and knuckles of the finger shattered. Harry screamed into her crotch.

"Better start licking, Harry," she commanded, "Only nine left to go and then I'll have to move on to other things." She traced a finger suggestively down the center of his stomach to make certain that he didn't miss the implication.

His tongue stretched out to take a few tentative licks at her nether hole.

"Not good enough, Harry," she said as she straightened out his pinky.

His tongue immediately began to lap forcefully at her anus. She moaned loudly in pleasure. It wasn't really the touch of his tongue that she was enjoying, although that was pleasant enough. It was the power. It was the fact that he was compelled to do what she desired, without any regard for his own wants or needs. So it had been with the mercenaries several nights before. They knew what she and her Master were and had been more than happy to follow her instructions and satisfy her every whim. She would never have to put up with abuse or neglect again. No more would she be forced to debase herself for any man.

Except for her Master, of course. For him she would do anything. He had given her a gift beyond her wildest imaginings. Even a thousand years of humiliation and pain would be a small price to pay for such a thing. Especially, she admitted to herself, since, as long as he was the one doing such things, she would enjoy every minute.

As she ground her bottom more firmly into her ex-husband's face, the door burst open behind her. She jumped to her feet as the room filled with soldiers. Several of them wore bulky IR goggles.

One of them turned to look at her. "She's one of them!" he shouted.

She sprinted for the window. She could hear arrows whizzing through the air just behind her. However, not all of the soldiers were equipped with archaic weapons, there simply weren't enough to go around. An assault rifle on full automatic began to chatter and she could hear the ring of expended brass hitting the floor. Hot lead tore into her side, causing her to cry out in pain. Her Master had told her that bullets could do her no lasting harm, but he hadn't informed her how badly they could still hurt.