Talk about being dealt a shitty hand.
She wouldn’t remain that way much longer if she continued her employment here. Places like the Blackwater have a way of making a woman’s clock spin faster than it should.
Tiger gave her a wink and returned the airborne kiss. She’d tinted her sandy blonde hair, with the lightest of lavender, giving her the cartoonish appearance of an anime schoolgirl. He liked her new look. He reached into his flight jacket, pulled out a carton of Martian smokes and held them up. Giving her a nod to let her know that this carton was hers, he handed them to the bartender for safekeeping. She smiled appreciatively.
Tiger’s a really a good guy, she thought to herself, as he made his way towards a dark corner of the room. He’s got a good heart. I’d give anything if he’d see me for something besides just a stripper in a rundown dive.
Some loud-mouthed, fat guy in a gray uniform of some sort was beckoning for her attention. The time for wishful thinking was over with. She sighed longingly. Too bad he’ll always be hung up on a memory.
Odell “Cutter” Hawkins had just finished conducting some illicit piece of business with some guy Tiger didn’t recognize. Obviously, the result hadn’t turned out to the man’s liking, as he now rose from the table where Cutter always held court, a sullen look clouding his face. As he walked past Tiger on his way to out, Tiger got a better look at him. He was dressed far too suave for a Blackwater regular. His nails were clean and manicured, his face soft.
Businessman. Got greedy and now he’s in over his head. Thought it’d be sexy to play with the bad boys. Tiger couldn’t help but grin at the pitiful look on his face. Guess he just found out about the airtight no-escape clause in his contract. Good enough for him!
“Tiger!” He turned to see Cutter motioning for him to come on over. Guess it was his turn.
Cutter watched impassively as Tiger approached his table. Years ago, he’d been the best-looking pilot based out of Huntsville, with his fresh-faced, boy band looks. Even now, he’d still be considered quite handsome for a man his age, though in a more rugged sort of way.
Most of his attention was focused on the young girl beside him, leaned over with her head in his lap. With his hand on the back of her head, he firmly dictated the pace at which she brazenly went down on him. With loud, wet, slurping noises, she eagerly worked him with her mouth, saliva liberally coating his cock and running down onto his jeans. From time to time, he would push her head down hard, forcing himself deep into the back of her throat. Helpless to prevent it, she could only gag, as he would hold her there until he decided to allow her to breathe again. He would smile a twisted little smile each time. He loved to remind his women who was in control. He loved to make them suffer like that.
But Cutter controlled a lot more than gagging whores. When it came to moving contraband in and out of Von Braun Spaceport, very little came and went without his knowledge. His gang controlled almost all underworld dealings in and around the port, and he had strong ties with the Martian and Lunar Mafias and their black markets. Like Tiger, he’d been one helluva spacer back in the day, another A & B’er. Unlike Tiger, he’d been a much faster learner. Well, at least when it came to the realization that the illegal point was the quickest point.
He got started in the porn business. Being an ex-spacer himself, if he’d learned anything in his years as a pilot, it was that people sealed up in ships, millions of miles from anybody or anything, got bored. Extremely bored. He was one of the first pioneers of planet-to-ship direct porn distribution. At first, he simply provided a conduit for spacers to view prepackaged skin flicks and cam shows but eventually, he saw the most money was to be made by controlling his own product. He began making his own movies and contracting out girls to appear online. He knew exactly what men wanted, especially men who hadn’t seen a woman in six months. And he gave them a slick, glossy product that left them coming back for more, pardon the pun. From there, it was only natural he would branch out into other fields of “profitability.”
He ran his operations as much like a business as possible, but when needed, he wouldn’t hesitate to resort to strong-arm tactics or violence. He could be utterly ruthless when it necessitated. He’d earned the nickname “Cutter” for the brutal use of a box cutter years ago. The notoriety he attained after allegedly slicing off one of his competitor’s gonads with it had served him well.
“Tiger! How the hell are ya, brother?” He smiled broadly, as he motioned toward an empty chair with his free hand. “Sit down and take a load off!”
“Looks like some folks are having a better evening than others,” Tiger grinned, eyeing the girl in Cutter’s lap. “Especially when it comes to getting a load off.”
“What can I say? Life is good!”
“Well, it’s gonna get even better,” Tiger reached into the flight bag he’d dropped at his feet. Producing a bottle of reddish liquid, he sat it on the table. “Compliments of our friends in New Sydney.”
“Mmmmm … Martian Madness!” The smuggler smiled in approval at the sight of
