SurvivingChapter 9 The High King of Scots
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The day started out normally.
I woke up, prepared breakfast for Nana and myself -- two slices of toast for me, and a couple of eggs for her. Nothing special. If I knew how to make anything fancy, I'd probably have a job in a restaurant and make much less money than I do presently.
I provided my grandmother with her pills, one for cholesterol, one for blood pressure, and one for memory loss, and I also took my own, one for depression, and one for anxiety.
Then, I received a phonecall from my mother. Why she couldn't be staying here and providing day-to-day care for her own mother instead of me, a 19-year-old who has her whole life ahead of her, I don't know. Apparently, I'm going to get some sort of benefit out of it when Nana and I both move back into my mother's house, but as of yet, I'm unclear on what that benefit will be.
She informed me that she was on her way over to the condominium so she could drive me to my 11 o'clock psychology class at the community college. I rolled my eyes, thankful she couldn't see, and bid my goodbye before hanging up.
Every time I'm in the car with her, there's always a barrage of questions about my academic performance. Unfortunately, I can't just tell her I'm doing okay. I have to specify what letter grades I'm getting, down to the percentage point. Every time she asks, I tell her the same thing: "I'm getting 100's, Mom."
That's a complete and utter lie. I'm getting 70's at best in all four of my classes. But ignorance is bliss. And that is what she gets for forcing me into a major I absolutely hate.
Nursing? What was she thinking? I already hate having to be a caretaker for an 84-year-old woman with Alzheimer's. Imagine how I'd react to having to perform medical procedures for several of them. I'd be driven to suicide.
I suppose compassion isn't necessary to work as a nurse. After all, my mother was one, and she's one of the most malevolent people I know. And lord knows I don't have any.
"Make me proud!" she shouted out the car window upon dropping me off for class. Little did she know, that's not where I was headed.
I pulled out my phone and checked my email. There was an encrypted message from a potential client. "Hello Tesla. I have a job offer for you," said the note. "Meet me in the back room of the Italian restaurant on Gulf and 44th in one hour to discuss the details."
Yeah, I forgot to mention this. I'm a mercenary. My mother would kill me if I got a retail or food service job, because it would take my focus away from school. So instead of my mother figuratively killing me for doing entry-level work, I literally kill people for way more cash than any mall job would pay.
Who do I kill, you may ask? Anyone the highest bidder asks me to. Cheating husbands, corrupt bankers, maybe the occasional government official or foreign diplomat. Doesn't matter. Crime pays, and I'm saving up to live life on my own.
After reading the message, I changed my outfit to my all black work uniform: tank top and skinny jeans combo that showed off curves in all the right places with combat boots, fingerless leather gloves, and a bandana covering my mouth. In my backpack, I had my weapons. Nothing much, just two handguns, some ammo, my switchblade, and a taser with lethal levels of voltage. That's why they call me Tesla.
At the Italian restaurant, my mission was assigned to me. I was to go across town to this abandoned cottage and kill whoever was inside. When I asked who I was to kill, my client haphazardly stacked ten thousand dollars on the table in front of me, which was enough to get me to shut my mouth.
Getting to the cottage was easy. Trying to find who was inside wasn't. After minutes of searching the dilapidated premises, I found no leads. I let out a sigh before someone pinned me to the wall by my neck.
"Well, what do we have here?" asked the target in his suave British accented voice. He towered over me and had ivory skin, long, disheveled raven hair, and sea green eyes that looked like they could see everything. And he sure as shit saw my weapons.
"A little assassin are you?" he asked, his grip on my neck tightening. Maybe it was the asphyxiation thinking for me, but this guy was kind of hot. "I wasn't aware they hired such pretty girls to act as hired killers," he commented as he stroked my blonde hair with his other hand.
If I hadn't been suffering from oxygen deprivation, I would have been blushing. Was he as attracted to me as I was to him?
Ah, it didn't matter. No matter how sexy he looked, ten thousand dollars was ten thousand dollars. I had a job to do there.
Using whatever physical strength I had left, I kicked him hard in the shin, and he let go. I reached for my taser to finally put an end to this, but he moved too quickly and tackled me to the ground. As he straddled my hips, he pinned my arms above my head with one hand and held me down by pushing down on my chest with his other hand. I struggled to break free from his hold, but he was too strong for me.
He used the hand that was on my chest to pull down the bandana that covered my mouth. "My, my," he remarked with a smirk. "You look good enough to eat." He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lip as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "Mind if I have a taste?" he purred.
I weighed my options. I could continue to struggle and not get anywhere, or I could give in and let this handsome, potentially dangerous man do with me what he wishes. Considering that I was somewhat aroused and I haven't had a good fuck in months, and there was already a bulge in his pants pressing up against me, I chose the latter.
"Go ahead," I said, anticipating the mind-blowing orgasm that was hopefully in my future.
He moved his head so he was looking into my crystal blue eyes before leaning in and kissing me softly. With almost no prompting besides him nipping my bottom lip playfully, my lips were parted, granting his tongue entrance to my mouth. It was the perfect balance of passionate and relaxing. This had to be the best damn kiss I've ever had.
That is, until I felt a sharp poke on my left arm. I opened my eyes, and the handsome stranger had already broken the kiss and was doing something to my arm, but I couldn't tell what, since it was over my head. He pulled his hand away from my arm and I noticed he was holding a syringe.
"You BASTARD!" I shouted at him. "You poisoned me?!"
"Oh, no, sweetheart," he reassured me as he got up from his seat on my hips. "Normally, that is how I take care of any mercenaries who choose to visit me, but you're too beautiful to be killed."
I tried to get up so I could finish what I came to the old cottage to do, but an aching pain in my abdomen had me doubled over. "If this isn't poison, then what is it?" I asked.
"Darling, you've just been injected with my strongest aphrodisiac," he informed me coolly. "Which means you're going to be a hot, horny mess unless you can relieve yourself."
That aphrodisiac packed a punch. I was breathing heavily, my pussy was dripping wet, and all my attention was focused on the raven-haired man, and how soft his lips felt against mine, and how I imagined his cock would feel inside of me, among other things. I didn't give a damn what I came there to do anymore. I needed sex. "Please... take me," I whimpered.
"Hm, I don't think I will today, princess," he chuckled, looking down at my writhing form. "Consider this payback for interrupting my peace and quiet. Til we meet again!" he said as he walked away.
I couldn't wait for him. I needed to take matters into my own hands. I removed the bandana from around my neck, pulled my hair out of its braid, and began to remove the rest of my clothing. I pulled my tank top over my head and unclipped my 34D bra. I ran my hands over my tits, letting out a soft sigh as I rubbed my nipples with my fingers. Never has touching myself like this stimulated me to this extent. It felt amazing, but I was longing for the handsome stranger to kiss them, lick them, and suck them.
I unbuttoned my skinny jeans, kicked off my boots, and slid down my thong, exposing my soaked pussy to the cool winter air. As I laid back and ran my fingers over the smooth skin above my clit, I felt instant relief from the aching pain in my abdomen. I traced two fingers through my soft, pink folds and rubbed my other hand's thumb over my clit, eliciting pleasured moans from me. I wished it was the gorgeous green-eyed man's skilled tongue making me feel this way instead. Hell, just for him to watch the show I was putting on would have been an honor.
Unable to wait any longer, I slipped two fingers into my pussy and began pumping them in and out, which further relieved the pain I was feeling and caused me more pleasure. If only the stranger could have used his own fingers, or better yet, his cock to fuck me hard and fast. I would beg and cry for him if I had only known his name.
It did not take much stimulation for me to begin to lose myself. My thoughts were becoming more and more incoherent as I came closer and closer to release. I pushed my fingers in and out of my pussy increasingly faster while rubbing my clit as I imagined the stranger's enormous cock pounding into me relentlessly and filling me with his cum. That was enough to drive me over the edge. As the waves of my release washed over me, I arched my back and moaned loudly, my entire body quivering from the intense pleasure. The aftershocks of my orgasm brought me down from the incredible high I just felt, and I laid on the floor in a tired heap.
"Shit... I still have to kill that guy," I thought as I snapped back into reality.
I woke up, prepared breakfast for Nana and myself -- two slices of toast for me, and a couple of eggs for her. Nothing special. If I knew how to make anything fancy, I'd probably have a job in a restaurant and make much less money than I do presently.
I provided my grandmother with her pills, one for cholesterol, one for blood pressure, and one for memory loss, and I also took my own, one for depression, and one for anxiety.
Then, I received a phonecall from my mother. Why she couldn't be staying here and providing day-to-day care for her own mother instead of me, a 19-year-old who has her whole life ahead of her, I don't know. Apparently, I'm going to get some sort of benefit out of it when Nana and I both move back into my mother's house, but as of yet, I'm unclear on what that benefit will be.
She informed me that she was on her way over to the condominium so she could drive me to my 11 o'clock psychology class at the community college. I rolled my eyes, thankful she couldn't see, and bid my goodbye before hanging up.
Every time I'm in the car with her, there's always a barrage of questions about my academic performance. Unfortunately, I can't just tell her I'm doing okay. I have to specify what letter grades I'm getting, down to the percentage point. Every time she asks, I tell her the same thing: "I'm getting 100's, Mom."
That's a complete and utter lie. I'm getting 70's at best in all four of my classes. But ignorance is bliss. And that is what she gets for forcing me into a major I absolutely hate.
Nursing? What was she thinking? I already hate having to be a caretaker for an 84-year-old woman with Alzheimer's. Imagine how I'd react to having to perform medical procedures for several of them. I'd be driven to suicide.
I suppose compassion isn't necessary to work as a nurse. After all, my mother was one, and she's one of the most malevolent people I know. And lord knows I don't have any.
"Make me proud!" she shouted out the car window upon dropping me off for class. Little did she know, that's not where I was headed.
I pulled out my phone and checked my email. There was an encrypted message from a potential client. "Hello Tesla. I have a job offer for you," said the note. "Meet me in the back room of the Italian restaurant on Gulf and 44th in one hour to discuss the details."
Yeah, I forgot to mention this. I'm a mercenary. My mother would kill me if I got a retail or food service job, because it would take my focus away from school. So instead of my mother figuratively killing me for doing entry-level work, I literally kill people for way more cash than any mall job would pay.
Who do I kill, you may ask? Anyone the highest bidder asks me to. Cheating husbands, corrupt bankers, maybe the occasional government official or foreign diplomat. Doesn't matter. Crime pays, and I'm saving up to live life on my own.
After reading the message, I changed my outfit to my all black work uniform: tank top and skinny jeans combo that showed off curves in all the right places with combat boots, fingerless leather gloves, and a bandana covering my mouth. In my backpack, I had my weapons. Nothing much, just two handguns, some ammo, my switchblade, and a taser with lethal levels of voltage. That's why they call me Tesla.
At the Italian restaurant, my mission was assigned to me. I was to go across town to this abandoned cottage and kill whoever was inside. When I asked who I was to kill, my client haphazardly stacked ten thousand dollars on the table in front of me, which was enough to get me to shut my mouth.
Getting to the cottage was easy. Trying to find who was inside wasn't. After minutes of searching the dilapidated premises, I found no leads. I let out a sigh before someone pinned me to the wall by my neck.
"Well, what do we have here?" asked the target in his suave British accented voice. He towered over me and had ivory skin, long, disheveled raven hair, and sea green eyes that looked like they could see everything. And he sure as shit saw my weapons.
"A little assassin are you?" he asked, his grip on my neck tightening. Maybe it was the asphyxiation thinking for me, but this guy was kind of hot. "I wasn't aware they hired such pretty girls to act as hired killers," he commented as he stroked my blonde hair with his other hand.
If I hadn't been suffering from oxygen deprivation, I would have been blushing. Was he as attracted to me as I was to him?
Ah, it didn't matter. No matter how sexy he looked, ten thousand dollars was ten thousand dollars. I had a job to do there.
Using whatever physical strength I had left, I kicked him hard in the shin, and he let go. I reached for my taser to finally put an end to this, but he moved too quickly and tackled me to the ground. As he straddled my hips, he pinned my arms above my head with one hand and held me down by pushing down on my chest with his other hand. I struggled to break free from his hold, but he was too strong for me.
He used the hand that was on my chest to pull down the bandana that covered my mouth. "My, my," he remarked with a smirk. "You look good enough to eat." He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lip as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "Mind if I have a taste?" he purred.
I weighed my options. I could continue to struggle and not get anywhere, or I could give in and let this handsome, potentially dangerous man do with me what he wishes. Considering that I was somewhat aroused and I haven't had a good fuck in months, and there was already a bulge in his pants pressing up against me, I chose the latter.
"Go ahead," I said, anticipating the mind-blowing orgasm that was hopefully in my future.
He moved his head so he was looking into my crystal blue eyes before leaning in and kissing me softly. With almost no prompting besides him nipping my bottom lip playfully, my lips were parted, granting his tongue entrance to my mouth. It was the perfect balance of passionate and relaxing. This had to be the best damn kiss I've ever had.
That is, until I felt a sharp poke on my left arm. I opened my eyes, and the handsome stranger had already broken the kiss and was doing something to my arm, but I couldn't tell what, since it was over my head. He pulled his hand away from my arm and I noticed he was holding a syringe.
"You BASTARD!" I shouted at him. "You poisoned me?!"
"Oh, no, sweetheart," he reassured me as he got up from his seat on my hips. "Normally, that is how I take care of any mercenaries who choose to visit me, but you're too beautiful to be killed."
I tried to get up so I could finish what I came to the old cottage to do, but an aching pain in my abdomen had me doubled over. "If this isn't poison, then what is it?" I asked.
"Darling, you've just been injected with my strongest aphrodisiac," he informed me coolly. "Which means you're going to be a hot, horny mess unless you can relieve yourself."
That aphrodisiac packed a punch. I was breathing heavily, my pussy was dripping wet, and all my attention was focused on the raven-haired man, and how soft his lips felt against mine, and how I imagined his cock would feel inside of me, among other things. I didn't give a damn what I came there to do anymore. I needed sex. "Please... take me," I whimpered.
"Hm, I don't think I will today, princess," he chuckled, looking down at my writhing form. "Consider this payback for interrupting my peace and quiet. Til we meet again!" he said as he walked away.
I couldn't wait for him. I needed to take matters into my own hands. I removed the bandana from around my neck, pulled my hair out of its braid, and began to remove the rest of my clothing. I pulled my tank top over my head and unclipped my 34D bra. I ran my hands over my tits, letting out a soft sigh as I rubbed my nipples with my fingers. Never has touching myself like this stimulated me to this extent. It felt amazing, but I was longing for the handsome stranger to kiss them, lick them, and suck them.
I unbuttoned my skinny jeans, kicked off my boots, and slid down my thong, exposing my soaked pussy to the cool winter air. As I laid back and ran my fingers over the smooth skin above my clit, I felt instant relief from the aching pain in my abdomen. I traced two fingers through my soft, pink folds and rubbed my other hand's thumb over my clit, eliciting pleasured moans from me. I wished it was the gorgeous green-eyed man's skilled tongue making me feel this way instead. Hell, just for him to watch the show I was putting on would have been an honor.
Unable to wait any longer, I slipped two fingers into my pussy and began pumping them in and out, which further relieved the pain I was feeling and caused me more pleasure. If only the stranger could have used his own fingers, or better yet, his cock to fuck me hard and fast. I would beg and cry for him if I had only known his name.
It did not take much stimulation for me to begin to lose myself. My thoughts were becoming more and more incoherent as I came closer and closer to release. I pushed my fingers in and out of my pussy increasingly faster while rubbing my clit as I imagined the stranger's enormous cock pounding into me relentlessly and filling me with his cum. That was enough to drive me over the edge. As the waves of my release washed over me, I arched my back and moaned loudly, my entire body quivering from the intense pleasure. The aftershocks of my orgasm brought me down from the incredible high I just felt, and I laid on the floor in a tired heap.
"Shit... I still have to kill that guy," I thought as I snapped back into reality.
Maddie
- 24.05.2022
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