The Eleventh Commandment, part 5

Next morning, I left Lena in bed, in her handcuffs and gag-ball, fishnets and heels, and went for a drive.
I cruised around town, looking for my prey. Along the way, I stopped in a drug store for some supplies, and then spent about one hour browsing the racks in a clothes shop. I bought some clothes that fit my gum and cigarette body, pants and jackets with a certain domne vibe, sort of high class bitch sexy.
As I turned one corner, a shop sign caught my attention. ‘The Tobacconist’, the sign read. Now this was interesting.
Inside, the air was heavy with the aroma of fine tobacco.
There were display cabinets with pipes and cigarette holders, and a wall series of humidors. The place was damn classy. Behind the hardwood counter, a thin man stood, very sharp but in a subdued way. Three piece suit, graying hair.
“Welcome. I am The Tobacconist and this is my store. How may I assist you today?”
I grinned. “You already did, I think.”




I showed him my pack of Newports and my gums.
“Oh, yes,” he smiled. Then he looked at me, squinting slightly. “Am I right if I say you have been experimenting with these products?”
I crossed my arms, knowing it would accentuate my chest. “You may say so.”
He shook his head. “This is not advisable.”
“But I feel great.”
He looked at me closely for a long minute. “I can see you are,” he paused, “special.”
“Really? I do feel special.”
He shook his head, with a kind, perfunctory smile. “Not in that sense. There are some of,” he shrugged, “some of us, that react differently.”
“Can you fix this?”
“Fix, how?”
I leaned on the counter, placing my hands on the shiny hardwood surface. “I love Shadow,” I said. I pointed at the cigarettes. “The bicker slut. I love being that.”
“That was the idea,” he said.
I turned, staring at my reflection in the glass of a cabinet. “But this,” I said, smoothing my lapel and caressing my boob, “this is perfect for my job.”
I stared him in the eye. “I’m a lawyer,” I explained. “And this is a perfect for courtroom.”
He was nodding. “This is a sort of frozen, in-between permutation,” he said. “It’s like you are being pulled in two directions, the baseline and the transformed. It is not healthy, in the long run.”
“But I do feel great.”
“It won’t last.”
“Can’t you…” I gestured.
“Stabilize you in this form? Of course.”
He opened a drawer.
The door chime sounded behind me. A plump girl in a plain blue sweater walked in, looking around with her eyes wide.
The Tobacconist ignored her as he placed a bag of lollipops on the counter.
I made a face. "Seriously?"
He was unflinching. “The cigarettes will still work as per request,” he explained. “But now, after consuming just one of these, the gums will turn you back to this current state.”
“Sweet. I'm good at sucking.”
He gave me a devilish smile.
“Please keep in mind that there’s no going back,” he said. “This will erase the baseline yourself. This will be your new plain self.”
I picked up the lollipops. “This is just perfect. How much do I owe you?”
He smiled. “This establishment operates on a full customer satisfaction policy. Consider this covered by our satisfaction guaranteed insurance. Now if you don’t mind, I have another customer.”
I thanked him and walked to the door as the girl in blue came closer to the counter.
“Welcome. I am The Tobacconist and this is my store. How may I assist you today?”
She gave a deep sigh. “They told me…” she began, showing him a calling card.
I was out on the street, and left her to whatever The Tobacconist would make of her.

#

I had almost given up hope when on the way home I cruised in front of one of the Sheriff’s department cars, tucked away behind a billboard in a parking lot.
I grinned, turned the radio on, ‘Jumping Jack Flash’ screaming through my loudspeakers, and one mile down the road I made a U turn. The road was straight and empty in the noon sun. I pushed down on the accelerator and flashed in front of the cop car doing a hundred and twenty.
I heard the siren howl and soon the patrol car was in my rear view mirror. I let it chase me for a handful of miles, until I spotted an empty space by the road, in the shadow of some tall trees.
I pulled over and hefted my tits, getting ready for the kill.
The deputy came up to my window and looked in. I buzzed the glass down.
“How can I help you, deputy,” I checked his name badge. Bingo! “Deputy Romero?”
He was dark skinned and kinda cute in a rough way. I was lucky.
“You know how fast you were driving, miss?”
I turned, giving him full sight of my cleavage. I shook my head. “I’m a speed freak,” I smiled.
“You were doing one hundred and twenty seven in an urban area, miss.”
I flapped my long lashes. “That’s quite a bit, isn’t it?”
He nodded. It was evident that he was trying not to stare at my boobs. I pushed my shoulders back. “The fact is, you see, officer, once I start, it’s so hard for me to stop…”
He asked to see my license.
“It’s an old photo,” I said as I handed it to him.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to ticket you, miss Zelkowitz.”
I sighed, taking a deep breath. “And here I was hoping you would spank me instead.”
His mouth hung open.
"I'm such a bad girl," I winked.

#

I fucked him for about one hour, back among the trees.
I stripped and I had him handcuff me and take me from behind, calling me a whore. I hummed and screamed and enjoyed the ride quite a bit. He was well endowed and full of aggression. He slapped me and he pushed me against a tree, the bark scratching my back and my buttocks, and we fucked standing up, my handcuffed wrists around his neck, he humping me, groaning, calling me bad names. I played him for all he was worth, letting hem think he was in control, coming three, four times as he pounded into me growling obscenities.
Then I put my clothes on again, and I went back to the car.
“Your license, miss,” he said with a grin.
“You keep it,” I winked. “You can bring it to my house tonight. Say at nine?”
He gave me a lecherous smile. “I’m a married man, miss.”
I fired up the engine. “Bring your wife, too.”
I watched him in the rear view mirror. It was time to put darling Lena to work.

#

Snake shuffled into the darkened room and sat in front of me.
“You look different, miss Z,” he said.
“I had a makeover.”
"I can see that."
I smiled. "Don't I smell like a good girl anymore?" I teased.
"No," he said, slowly. "You smell like smoke."
"Wanna hear the news?"
He shrugged his big shoulders. “Do you have news for me?”
I opened my briefcase and took out a cigar in a glass vial.
I rolled it to him across the table. “You can smoke it on your way out.”
He picked it up in his big scarred hand and looked at it, and then back at me.
“You did it?” he asked.
“Don’t look so surprised. A girl has her pride, you know.”
He laughed. “Sorry, miss.”
“All charges dropped. Turned out there were a number of irregularities in your arrest, which invalidated the whole thing. You’ve been unlawfully arrested.”
He squinted, looking at me. “How did you do it?”
It was my time to shrug. “I fucked one of the deputies.”
“You what?”
“Nothing major. I was with a friend, she did most of the nasty.”
He was grinning like a satisfied cat. “And then he told you about these… irregularities?”
“Don’t be stupid. We took some pictures of him in flagrante delicto, and said we’d post them to his wife’s facebook wall. And he signed an affidavit in which he admitted to his malpractices.”
“You didn’t!”
“I’m also suing the office of the sheriff for harassment. If they cough up, I expect to get half the money.”
"Half?"
"Consider it a retainer."
He threw his head back and let out a roaring laugh. “I knew you’re good, babe.”
I stood, collecting my bag.
“Get your stuff together,” I told him. “The gentlemen that run this place want you out of their hair as fast as possible. And I think there’s someone waiting for you outside.”
I was on the door when he called me. “What?”
“You’re a nice piece of ass, little girl,” he said.
I laughed. “Don’t I know, big man.”

#

I was walking to my car when the cavalcade of Harleys crawled in front of the county jail, men and women in leather and denim, displaying their tattoos and their scars.
Blaze saw me and signaled to the others, and the snake of motorbikes slithered in my direction, roaring, and soon I was surrounded by a crowd of big muscled men and aggressively sexy women, revving up their motors.
Astride his black bike, Snake took his cigar out of his mouth and nodded a greeting.
“Miss Z,” he said.
“Mister Snake.”
“The Reapers are having a little celebration back at the farm, tonight,” he said. “And Blaze suggested you might like to join us.”
He glanced at his mate, and Blaze and I shared a secret smile. “Nothing fancy, you know. A few beers, some music…”
Sitting behind Crusher, two-tone Raven grinned at me and ran a finger along the side of her nose, winking at me. She licked her black lips.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I smiled. “Do you mind if I bring a friend?”

The End (?)