The Girl.

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Erotic Flash  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

This short story is about an innocent man who unwillingly gets involved with a group of terrorists.

It happened on a warm summer Sunday morning back in June. I wasn’t in a hurry as I strolling along the lane that ran at the back of my cottage and with the birds singing and the bells on the local church ringing it was just a nice pleasant and peaceful walk to the local newsagents for my Sunday paper and a packet of cigarettes when an old-style Mini being driven erratically by a young girl with black hair came from nowhere and sped passed me nearly knocking me over, and at the junction where the lane meets the main road to Birmingham she had no chance of stopping and shot straight out onto the busy road colliding with a blue builder's Ford Transit van loaded with roofing ladders.

The girl staggered out of the car and sat down on the pavement her blouse torn open and she was bleeding from a deep cut on her arm. A tall well-built young man maybe in his early 30-jumped out of the van and rushed over to her, I thought he was going to help her but to my horror, I suddenly realized he wasn’t helping her; he was kicking seven bells of crap out of her.

“Hey, you what the hell are you doing?”  I shouted as I ran towards them, however, as I got closer from the pocket of his worn black leather biker jacket the guy pulled out a flick-knife its blade flashed in the sun as he flicked it open and pointed it at me, shouting at the same time in a deep brummie accent. “If you want some just keep fucking coming cunt and I’ll have your fucking balls off you nosy, interfering twat.”

I’m no hero and I stopped in my tracks by the threat of having a knife fight with this much bigger younger and fitter guy than me “You’ve just made the best decision of your fucking life sunbeam,” he said sarcastically with a half-grin on his face as he climbed back into his van and drove away.

I ran over to the girl who was now standing and had taken her bag from the car. I started babbling all the usual words you use when you’re trying to reassure someone everything will be all right. “The ambulance is on its way darling don’t worry we will soon have you;” that’s as far as I got” She stopped me in mid-flow with a sharp no-nonsense “Shut the fuck up and get your arse on the driver's seat of my car unless you want to die today.”

In her right hand she held a gun I assume she had taken it from her bag.  I’m no expert on guns and this one looked rather strange it was small with two barrels one on top of the other. I was feeling confidant believing it wasn’t a real gun just a kids toy and I could easily take it away from her. I think she suspected I wasn’t impressed with the size of her weapon; as many women haven’t been with mine.

She soon put me right. “Before you get any bright ideas,” she said as she sort of waved the gun at me. “This is a 2-shot Derringer pistol and if you don’t get in the fucking car, you will find out just how big a hole it makes in you.” I had to get in the passenger side, as the driver's door was all bashed in. She sat down beside me shoving the gun in my ribs.

“You drive now and no funny business I will have no hesitation in pulling the trigger so get your foot down and take me to the Swilly estate, I assume you know where it is?” I nodded as I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up with the realization this wasn’t a joke this was happening to me and for the second time in less than ten minutes my life was under threat and I knew unless I did what she said this pretty angel-faced ice maiden wouldn’t give it a second thought in sending me on to the promised land, mind you, going too the Swilly council estate was no guarantees of a long life.

Built-in the 1950s to house homeless families just after the war it was once a pleasant area with a happy, thriving community; “I know, I was brought up there,” however, in the early 1970s the council decided in their wisdom to turn it into a dumping ground for all the misfits rapists and murderess, in fact, all the lowlife you would expect to find running alongside any civilized society. In just a few years Swilly had become a no go area and a dangerous place with rowdy marauding gangs of drunken yobs and drug pushers, prostitutes working on every street-corner, and at least one murder every week.

As we turned into the estate, “Pull up over there where that Jag’s parked.”  She indicated where she meant by pointing the gun towards the car. She got out quickly and then ordered me out as a tall teenager appeared from nowhere and stood beside her.

“Get rid of this heap Darren, and make sure you burn it good,” she said as the young feller jumped in the car and roared off as she pushed the gun in my back and led me down the path of an end-terraced house on the left-hand side a small garden with an old car dumped on it, the paint on the brown front door was all blistered from years of neglect and the thread barer curtains at the windows were closed.

Inside the house was as I expected in need of a full renovation with plaster falling off ceilings and wallpaper peeling from the walls, it was just a dirty slum that would have benefited from being demolished. We turned left into the front room on the right; there was a fat bald-headed guy of about 40-sitting in an old tatty armchair reading a paper in front of an empty fireplace, a young girl who looked to be in her early teens was sitting on the other side playing with her iPad another big guy was watching the football on a portable TV while his mate was sitting at the table reading a girly magazine. The fat guy jumped up angrily when he saw us.

“Where the fuck have you been Mary and who the hell is this? I told you time and time again never bring strangers back to this house, so why the fuck is he here? He moved aggressively towards her obviously intending to give her a slap, but she was having none of it. I felt the pressure of the gun in my back released as she pointed it at him.

“If you’re interested I had a crash with Simon Springer and that’s why I had to bring him back because I couldn’t drive the fucking car with one hand so get that into your thick fucking skull; you lay one fucking finger on me Smithy and I will put a bullet in your head and one-up your arse, you know I can, so back off, I don't need to answer to you, you’re not my fucking boss.” He moved away.

“I’m just saying, of all the fucking people you had to crash into, it had to be him, that fucking crazy cunt, now we’re gonna have to move again all because of you, you make me fucking sick, get yourself cleaned up you’re bleeding all over the fucking carpet.

He turned towards me

“You get fucking stripped off and be quick about it.” I sort of looked at him, I couldn’t take it in, I wanted to ask why; and what about the young girl? Surly not in front of her, however, before it had sunk in he wanted me buck-naked he spoke again.

"I’ve told you once get your kit off, or my boys will do it for you and believe me you wouldn’t like that; you’re not fucking shy are you?" They laughed mockingly at his feeble joke including the girl, not that she was all that interested and carried on playing on her iPad. As I pulled my red tee shirt over my head, I felt humiliated and as I undid my belt; I knew it wasn’t over as Smithy piped up again.

“I’m warning you if you take much longer,” he pondered for a moment “No, just put your fucking hands up in the air Cindy will help you with the rest of your gear,” he laughed as he beckoned her over.

She came quickly, smiling as she looked up into my face with her brown child-like eyes and began unbuckling my belt. As soon as it was undone she tugged on my jeans and I felt them fall to the floor, “thank god I had an early shower that morning and a change of underwear or that would have been another excuse for this scum to take the piss.” She pulled the jeans off over my flip-flops and now it was decision time with only my underpants left to hide anything I offered in the sex department.

 “Go for it Cindy girl, go for it, get them off him,” the big guy chanted as he excitedly urged her on the other two men stood there watching and grinning at me. I tried to move away from her but I was grabbed from behind by the big guy and held in a bear hug so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Come on Cindy get them off him, before I break his fucking back.” he said.

Cindy didn’t need any prompting, as she slid her tiny hands up and down the outside legs of my pants occasionally just rubbing my cock. This slip of a girl was experienced; this wasn’t her first time. Kneeling down on the dirty carpet in front of me she took a hold of the elasticated waistband of my pants and without hesitation pulled them straight down to the floor her face so close to my cock, I could feel her warm hot breath blowing gently over it

Slowly she moved her hands up and down my thighs letting her fingers dance lightly on the tip of my penis before taking a firm hold of it and pulling back my foreskin. I had a tingling sensation running through my body as I felt her delicate young tongue licking the end as she kissed and squeezed it; sliding her left hand between my legs she caressed my balls, pumping them one at a time; I jumped as she guided her fingers and began exploring my bum massaging it gently and slowly sliding them into me. This was new to me and despite the horrible and dangerous situation I couldn’t control my emotions and could feel my cock swelling and standing up. I wanted her to wank me off; I wanted her to put it all into her tiny mouth and suck the spunk out of me, I was ready for sex.

The pleasant feeling didn’t last long as the big guy grabbed me around the neck and pushed me over the arm of Smithy's armchair. I could feel him fumbling and struggling to hold me down with one hand while trying to unzip his zipper and get his prick out with the other.  He was successful and forced his red-hot knob into me as he pushed my face into the stinking seat of the chair and now I knew why Cindy was so active around my arse; she was creaming me up so this filthy bully could shag me.

He grabbed hold of my cock to give him more leverage as he tried to push more into me than he had, managing only about 20-or-30 thrusts before I felt him cum, his filthy fiery liquid squirting up and flowing inside me. I wanted to fart; I wanted to shit all over this dirty stinking sex-crazed baboon, but I didn’t; I wasn’t brave enough, thinking of the retribution that would come my way if I did and so I submitted my body as I had when I was eleven. The scoutmaster climbed into my tent and unzipped my sleeping bag, he was so genital unlike this fat pig, I was lucky he wasn’t one of the 12-inch boys; he was more of a 6 to 7incher. Once the bib guy pulled out and fastened up his pants Smithy gave out his orders again.

“Right now you lot have had your fun get the twat upstairs wash him off and put him with the others and be fucking quick about it.”

I was forcibly manhandled by the two goons they pushed me out of the room and up the stairs and into a small bathroom at the top. It was like the rest of the house filth dirty with crap all around the pan and on the floor. Mary suddenly appeared wearing a clean blue blouse and with her arm now all bandaged up. “Get in the bath,” she ordered, and as I got in, she began hosing me down with a hand shower feed from the bath taps.

“That will do him, come on let’s get him sorted there’s racing on the telly and I’ve got a couple of bets on.” The big guy said as he pulled me out of the bath with my hair.

Mary passed me an old grey towel to dry myself off and as I did, they shoved me into one of the bedrooms at the front of the house. There was no furniture in the room just some old worn-out single mattresses scattered about the floor a handrail fitted in various places to the walls and to my surprise there were five other men in there sitting on the mattresses, all in their late teens to early twenty’s, naked and handcuffed to the rails with their left hands, they didn’t even look up as Mary cuffed me too one of the rails.

The door of this bedroom prison slammed shut, and I heard the bolts being driven home. The rail I was handcuffed too was by the window and I could just adjust the curtain and see outside onto the path and the old car in the garden, also where the jag had been parked.  One guy with a foreign accent spoke to me.

“Hi, I’m Jack can you see anything?” Before I could answer the bolts slid back, and the big guy pushed another young men into the room, he was also naked and washed, and judging from the bruising around his eyes and body he had been beaten up, however, like the rest of us, the big guy tethered him to the rails.  Once he had left Jack spoke again.

“That’s it then now we've all washed down it looks like its happening today, the bloody bastards,” he said angrily as he stood up and punched the wall.

“What is happening today, what are you talking about?” I asked; he looked at me with a disbelieving expression on his face.

“You mean you really don’t know? He didn’t wait for my answer. “Sold mate, that’s what going to fucking happen to us today, sold to the highest fucking bidder and transported to some terrorists training camp where we will be hunted down and murdered like dogs, all for their fuck propaganda videos. I am surprised they bothered with you though far too old for what they want, I expect they will just shot or behead you that’s if they want you; if not,” he hesitated and gave a short nervous laugh; “if not best say your fucking prayers now buddy.”

I just stood there stunned, frozen, speechless by what he had predicted, this couldn’t be right after all this is England, things like that don’t happen here. I tried to convince myself, however, in the back of my mind; I knew if he was right my days on this green and pleasant land were numbered. If only I’d have gone for my paper an hour later if only I had given up smoking last Christmas as I said I would as a part of my new year's resolutions I wouldn’t now be in this nightmare. Is this really happening to me? I question myself.

From outside I heard a car pulling up, through the chink of the curtain I saw a silver Bentley pull up and a short man wearing a grey suit and two other hard-looking men got out, obviously, his bodyguard’s the drive remained in the car.  I watched as they walked down the path and into the house. It must have been about ten minutes when there were heavy footsteps on the stairs and the bedroom door opened, the short man carrying a long thin cane accompanied by Smithy walked into the room the two bodyguards stood just inside the doorway.

“A nice young selection for you this week Mr. Amir.” Smithy said as Amir looked us up and down. “Stand up you cunts,” he shouted in a foreign accent at the same time swishing his cane menacingly. The other all stood up except the new guys. Amir looked at him directly. “I told you to stand up so fucking stand up,” he said as he threatened to strike the guy with the cane. The guy didn’t frighten easily and replied in a deep gravely voices “Go fuck yourself, granddad.” Amir instantly flew into a storming rage beating the young guy about the head and body with his cane so badly Smithy and the two bodyguards had to pull him away.

“That’s enough Mr Amir, don’t damage the goods there not paid for yet,” Smithy said trying to make a joke of it, but Amir wasn’t finished and I suddenly realised why we were all naked so he could beat seven bells of shit out of us.

“No fucking respect for authority these day, these fucking young twats,” Amir screamed at us and became even more enraged lashing out indiscriminately striking anyone in the range of his cane.

Just as quickly as his rage came, so it diapered and calmly he stood looking at us. “I will have respect from you, understand? I will have respect and I will beat it into you if I don’t get.”  He walked along the line looking at each of the men up and down even tapping a couple of chaps balls with his cane just to humiliate them.  He looked at everybody except me he didn’t even give me a second glance.

"Only six then this week Smithy? You’ve got to do better than this; none of them are any good for our videos, just to fucking ugly, have they all been checked over and are they fit?"

"Yes, they are all in A1 perfect condition Mr. Amir you know I won't sell you any rubbish, I’ve had them checked out by the old Doc before you came, and there’s this one. Smithy said pointing to me. Amir looked at me and for the first time, I notice the immaculate grey suit he was wearing top quality cloth made to measure in Savile Row must have cost the wrong side of £1500.

  “Had them all check out have you? He laughed, you fucking liar Smithy. I can’t believe you want me to take him; come on; you couldn’t fuck give him away. He’s no use to me, but you won't be selling him to some other cunt I will see to that.”

He raised his hand in the air and one bodyguards in the doorway reached inside his coat and pulled out a massive handgun, pointing it at me. “Was my time up in this stinking hellhole, was this where I was a prisoner was it also where going to die?

I panicked and pleaded for my life. “Please no, please don’t kill me Mr, Amir if you want money I can give you money but please don’t shoot me, I will do anything you say anything you want but please,” I drooped to my knees kissing the small shiny black leather shoes on the feet of Amir the man who held my life on a bit of string. I was trembling crying and begging for mercy as the bodyguard began screwing a short stubby silencer to the barrel of his gun I started hyperventilating as I pulled on Ami’s trousers crying and grovelling to this short arse little fucker who for some reason wanted me dead.

“Mind the fucking threads you idiot,” he shouted as he backhanded me sending me sprawling backward and from that position I could plainly see the bodyguard standing in the doorway pointing his gun at me and as he took aim I squirmed and squealed like a baby pig as I tried to crawl away from the gun.

Amir stopped the guy from killing me just in time. “I’ll take him Smithy he might come-in-handy to amuse me and clean out the shit houses; it will be good for our videos showing a so-called proud Englishman begging grovelling for his life, He grinned at Smithy, obviously at no extra cost.

They walked out of the room and slammed the door shut. The other guys all looked at me with contempt in their eyes as if I had let them down with my efforts to save my life, but I didn’t give a toss what they thought at least I was still on this planet and while that was the case I still had a chance of escaping and survival.

About ten minutes had passed when the door open and Mary with the big guy who was caring a gun entered the room. She had a washing basket that was full of our dirty clothes she tipped it out onto the floor in the middle of the room and began unlocking us while the big guy stood there looking menacing. “Don’t get any ideas just sort your own clothes out and get dressed quickly, I’ve not got all day.”

I could see my red tee shirt distinctly in the pile, but some other twat had taken my underpants and left a pair of dirty shit stained one in their place, I think he was trying to make a point of his disgust at my earlier outburst I wasn’t bothered and just put them on as I looked at the guy's faces and I could see by his expression they belonged to Jack, but I said nothing.

We were all dressed we were tethered back to the rails and left to wonder about our future or our deaths. I looked through the window again I didn’t want to look at Jack or any of them they had nothing but hatred of me for what I had done, but if the boot had been on the other foot I wondered how many of them would have died without trying to save their own necks?

Just as the negative thoughts were running rampant through my mind the Bentley pulled away at speed its tires squealing and smoking, suddenly the builder's Transit van minus the ladders appeared and took its place, the backdoors flew open and 5-men wearing black balaclavas jumped out as did 3-from the front they rushed up the path and into the house, there was a lot of screaming and shouting and then the sound of rapid gunfire along with single shots and the screaming and shouting stopped just as quickly as it had started

Then what sounded like an army was running up the stairs, there were more single shots before the door of our bedroom prison flew opened and two men stood there in the doorway both holding guns.

“Here you are boys,” one of them said as he tossed the key to the handcuffs over to Jack.

“Get the fuck out of here and forget what you have seen today, this should help shorten your memories.” He threw a bugle of notes at the feet of each of us; as he turned to leave, he looked directly at me his eyes burning into mine, I knew instantly who he was.

“I haven’t forgotten, we still have a score to settle, but not today so just get the fuck out of here,” and with that, he and the other guy ran out of the room and down the stairs. I felt more at ease with the sound of their van doors being slammed shut and the tires squalling as they speed away.

Jack was quickly releasing the men from their cuffs and as he did so, they picked up their money and fled down the stair, however, when he got to me instead of releasing me he punched me in the face and threw the key down on the floor picking up my money at the same time. “You won't be needing this you fucking cowardly twat, release your fucking self,” he said waving the money in my face and with that, he ran out of the room.

The key was just about reachable with my outstretched leg and with my foot I was able to drag it towards me and undo my cuffs. I walk to the open door slowly and looked out half-expecting somebody to be there but there was no one, just the smell of blood and cordite. As I passed the small bathroom I saw Mary slumped over the bath, someone had shot her in the back and put another bullet up her arse. Cindy lay half under her with her head propped up against the filthy toilet pan her once beautiful brown eye now lifeless staring up at the crumbling ceiling, blood running from underneath her and pooling by her head, I felt physically sick, but I knew I had to getaway.

The big guy was laying on the stairs the back of his head blown away; his mate was face down in the passage with his gun still in his hand. Smithy slumped in his armchair with a single shot to the head. Amir and his two bodyguards were slumped in the doorway Amir’s £1500 pound suit torn and ripped to shreds and covered in blood. I had no sympathy for him thinking only twenty minutes earlier this little guy had put me through hell in fact I had no sympathy for any of them as I walked over them and out of the house and slowly down the path.

From nowhere somebody shouted “Run you stupid bastard run,” I looked around but couldn’t see anyone, however, they shouted out again and this time with far more urgency in their voice, “run you twat get the fuck out of there before it's too late.” The words “to late” panicked me after what I had been through and I started running at a fast pace down the same road I had run down as a kid many times before. Passed Mitchell’s house and David Clarke, passed my old house and my mate Greg who lived next door, but there was no time for remaining I had got to get away.

When I arrived with Mary, the road had been busy, with kids playing people in their gardens and chaps tinkering and washing their cars, but now it was deserted the people hiding behind closed doors not wanting to know what had happened in that end-terraced house, they knew it was dangerous to become involved. As I approached the end of the road, I knew there was a jitty that took me under a railway arch and out onto a sports felid where they were playing football I mingled with the crowd of onlookers and supporters before beginning the five miles walk back to my cottage, the £15 pounds I had in my pocket at the start of this nightmare had been stolen.

That night I tuned in to the local news, there was no mention of the massacre and it was the same the following days and weeks nothing in the local papers or the dailies it was as if nothing had ever happened on the Swilly estate, I even drove down there and stopped outside the house it was exactly the same with the old car on the garden and the rotting curtains at the windows nothing had changed.

Over the next 3-weeks, I scanned the papers expecting to read about the slaughter, however, there was nothing, no mention of it anywhere and gradually thinking about it became less important as I was told by a text message I was now out of work made redundant, my services were no-longer required by the company I had worked for, for over ten years. Now finding a job was my priority.

After letters and phone calls to various employers, eventually, my persistence paid off and a guy contacted me, he tolled me he could offer me some part-time driving work, and if I was interested to meet him at about 8pm in The Black Rose a rundown pub on the other side of Birmingham. I didn’t know the guy, however; I had to check it out it was the only thing work-wise on the horizon.

I got in there early and as I downed my third pint, the big hand on the old railway clock on the wall moved to 9.30 and I decided he wasn't going to show up and it was another wasted journey; one of so many I had taken in my quest to find work. The only thing on offer was an old worn-out prostitute who had been trying to catch my eye all night. As I stood up to leave the small round table in the corner I had sat at most of the night someone pushed me down again.

“Hi mate not leaving already are you stay and have a drink with me, the man who saved your life.” I looked up and to my surprise I was looking into the smiling face of Jack the last person in the world I expected to see or wanted to see ever again.

"What do you want?  I asked with some hostility in my voice."  He laughed; “don’t be like that have a drink with me after all I did save your life.” "Saved my life? I question him, nearly cost me it you mean throwing the key out of my reach, thumping me in the face and then taking my money and you call that saving my life?”

"Yeah sorry about that but it's all water under the bridge now come on mate let bygones be bygones and have a drink with me to celebrate both of us getting out of that hellhole alive.” He called to the waitress who was busy collecting glasses. "Two whiskeys over here miss if you don't mind," he shouted to her as he sat down. She didn’t look to thrilled at being ordered about as she walked swiftly towards us with one of those looks on her face, you know the one, however, it changed instantly to one of happiness and smiles when Jack handed her a £50-pound note adding “make them double gorgeous and keep the change." "Thank you, sir coming right up," she said as she turned and walked towards the crowded bar.

“Come on then Jack, I’m interested, how do you think you saved my life?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

“Well, it was when you stood on the path outside the house I couldn’t believe it you were just standing there, what were you waiting for; a fucking bus?”  “No I was waiting for the police that would have been obvious to any moron, even you, it wasn’t until you stated shouting hysterically for me to run that I panicked, I thought one of the crazy bastards inside the house was coming out; that’s why I ran and the faster I ran the more I seemed to panic.”

“You still don’t understand, you still don’t get it do you? There was no fucking police coming, the only people due to arrive were the cleaning squad and if you had still been there they would have shot you.”

“What you are saying makes no sense, the cleaning squid, who the fuck are they? This is England you know.”

“The cleaners mate are guys who move in after Springer has called, their job is to get rid of the bodies, and wash away the blood with a few buckets of water and shot anything in or near the house that’s still alive and that would have been you if you hadn’t have ran.” I sat quietly for a few minutes trying to take in what he had just told me.

“Let me get this right Simon Springer was hired by someone to kill that group of terrorists and the police knew all about it and that’s why they didn’t arrive, and there was no mention of it in the papers, is that what you're telling me?”

“You’re nearly there, Springer and his gang work manly for governments around the world the reason governments use him and others like him is to eradicate people who if put into prison would be more dangerous with their followers and their propaganda, this way, its all finished with, they can no longer be a threat, and that’s what you got mixed up in.”

“Okay, so the government ordered the killing of these people and instructed the police not to take any action?”

“Yeah you’ve nearly got it, but it may not have been this government who ordered the killing, they all work together so it could have been any government who ordered the killings, it just happens it was in this country.” “But what about the girls, why kill them, I didn’t like that Mary much but Cindy was so young?”

Don’t lose any sleep over them mate Mary and Cindy between them were responsible for over 300-hundred deaths, you were not the first taken in by Cindy’s baby-face; she was in fact over a 20-her and Mary set and arranged 3-bombs that killed over 100 people on the same day and only miles apart so don’t mourn their passing, bloody good riddance to all of them I say, anyway here’s a little present for you from Simon he said: “The score is settled.” As Jack got up from the table he handed me a large envelope, “Just one thing mate its best if you forget Simon and me, we will never meet again.” He winked as he turned and walked away towards the exit.

I found a part-time job and with time on my hands, I decided to tell you this cock and bull story, I hope you enjoyed it.

Submitted: July 05, 2020

© Copyright 2023 Johnnytwosteps. All rights reserved.

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Sun, November 8th, 2020 1:00pm

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