Posted by Phillip Marlowe on March 26, 2000 at 15:27:33:
I thrive on criticisim!
Paula's Choice
By
Phillip Marlowe
The elevator doors parted and the Marshal stepped out first, hand on her gun, quickly looking both ways in the hall. She signaled the rest of the party and they stepped off in the usual order. Paula first, the second Marshal following, and Ms. Murdock of the US Attorneys Office last. They moved quickly down the hall to the adjoining rooms they had rented under Murdock's name. Paula always referred to her as Ms., with mocking emphasis on the z-sound. The Marshal unlocked the door and just as quickly checked the rooms. Paula let them do their job. The routine was the same, day after day. Get up early, go to the courthouse, testify, and come back to the hotel. One of the two Marshals would always enter a room first, usually the one with the close-cropped black hair and aviator glasses, she knew as Kegan. Paula wondered why a woman would want a job where you might have to sacrifice your life for someone who could care less whether you lived or died. Kegan was a dyke, she thought. That didn't bother her; she fantasized about a threesome between her, Kegan, and the other Marshal, whom she knew as Bates. Bates was a svelte blonde college-girl type who wore her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Where Kegan was short and muscular, Bates was thin and graceful. Paula wondered if her large tits would get in the way if she ever had to go for her that gun under her arm. She knew that if Joey wanted her dead, the fact that these women carried guns and badges meant nothing. The Marshal signaled and they all went into the room. Typical of a better hotel, but not good enough for Paula, who had always had the best.
"You could have gotten a better hotel," she spoke to seemingly no one.
"This place provides room service, a short trip to the courthouse, reasonable security, and less expense to the taxpayers," Murdock answered. Murdock didn't like Paula. She was, in her opinion, nothing more that Joey Cillona's whore, buying her way out of a drug rap by selling him out. It bothered her that Paula would pay for her crimes by living in anonymity in relative luxury. It also bothered her that she had to pull the only two women Marshals from their usual duties to keep watch over her. She had to admit though; Paula was providing some great information about Joey and his operation. Murdock threw her ubiquitous stack of paper on the bedside table with the phone, and sat in the overstuffed club chair that was jammed into the corner, and grabbed the phone.
Paula looked down at Murdock and smirked. She was much taller than Murdock and the Marshals, and in her three-inch heels she towered over them. The first time she had entered the grand jury room, she could feel the eyes of every man, and some of the women, following her across the floor. It gave her a sense of power as she looked down at everyone. The first time that Joey had seen her, his eyes had followed her across the room just like the jurors. Joey was man enough to do something about it though. She dislike was mutual between her and Murdock. Condescending women like her had been looking down their noses at her all of her life. Only two more days of testimony and then she would live the good life with five hundred grand of Joey's money. She wouldn't need a man, except for pleasure.
"What do you want to eat?" Murdock asked.
"The usual," Paula replied as she turned into her room. Unlike her guardians, one of whom was awake at all times, she got a private room. Kegan was already inside closing the drapes. Paula removed her blazer and watched as the woman went to the hallway door and made sure the bolt was on, and left through the adjoining door. Paula shut and bolted the door behind her as she left. She kicked off her heels and lay on the bed, hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling. "Two more days," she spoke, fantasizing about the money and how much she was going to get away with. She had choices. She knew she could have talked Joey into getting rid of the drug charges. She knew that he would forgive her any sin. But she wanted the freedom to move on. She would have plenty of money and a new territory to develop contacts in. Her choice was for herself. Joey would just have to get over it.
She removed the rest of her clothes and dropped them on the chair in the corner. She glanced at herself in the mirror as she made her way to the bathroom. No fat on this body. Large firm breasts with large nipples, a flat belly and a tight ass. Her thick black hair fell just short of her waist and her pubic hair was trimmed so she could wear the skimpiest bikinis. She knew she would have no trouble getting another man. But this time, she would be the boss. She started the water and waited for it to warm, adjusting the detachable showerhead. "At least there's some pretense of comfort in this dump," she thought out loud. She got everything just the way she liked it and stepped inside. It felt good to just let it wash over her and clean off the oak, stale tobacco, and old paper smell of the courthouse. She soaped her breasts, caressing her nipples. They stiffened at her touch. She closed her eyes and thought momentarily of Joey; how good his hands had felt on her breasts. She felt her pussy tingle as she remembered his skill as a lover. She leaned back against the wall and adjusted the spray so that the warm water spilled over her. Her hands went to her sex, and found her clitoris, hard and sensitive. She began to stroke herself, thinking of the many times that she and Joey had made love. Soon she would find another man to amuse her, but for now she enjoyed her pleasure alone. Soon she pulled the showerhead from its support, and brought it to her pussy. Her fantasy changed from Joey to Kegan and Bates. She squirmed at the pleasure the water gave her. She stifled a moan. She knew that when she reached her peak, she wouldn't be able to.
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"The queen is having her bath," Kegan spoke derisively. The other giggled at Kegan's comment. They all knew what Paula was doing in the shower. "The woman just can't keep her hands off of herself," she continued. "Hey Boss, do ya' think I could go in there and help her out?" Both Bates and Murdock laughed loudly at Kegan's plea. "Sure," replied Murdock in the same sarcastic tone, "just make sure you keep your badge handy so when Joey show's up he knows you're a cop." Everyone had a good laugh. Murdock continued reading through her mountain of paperwork and Bates and Kegan continued their marathon game of gin rummy at the small table in the corner. A knock came to the door and everyone turned to look with a heightened sense of awareness.
"I'll get it," spoke Kegan as she got up from the table and walked to the door. Murdock turned her attention back to her notes for the next day's testimony, while Bates stood up.
"Be careful," she added. She put her hand on the grip of the pistol attached to her belt and watched her partner walk down the short vestibule.
"Who is it?" Kegan asked as she looked through the peephole.
"Room Service," came the muffled reply through the door.
The man was wearing the blazer that all of the employees of the hotel wore. Kegan opened the door carefully. Behind the cart of food stood a stout, compact man. Blonde hair cropped short with a goatee, darker than the rest. He smiled broadly at the woman who stood before him.
"You order ma'am."
The Marshal returned the smile before she spoke. "Where's Eddie?"
"He called in sick, my name is Tommy," the man spoke as he pushed his way into the room. Kegan put her gun hand on the cart and stopped him before he got too far into the room.
"We'll have to check, just stay there."
"Good," he thought, "she wears her gun under her arm." He knew that that was the worst location for a fast draw. He looked at Bates. Her weapon is in a more accessible location, on her belt, next to her right hand. He stood up, hands at his side as the blonde turned away from him and looked to her partner, her hand still against the cart. "You wanna call down." Bates turned and started toward the phone. She dropped her gun hand to her side. Murdock didn't even look up.
In an instant he pulled his the Glock with it's heavy silencer and fired. The shot hit Kegan in the side. She jerked and doubled over as the pain of the bullet tearing through her overwhelmed her. She fell, turning away from the shooter, face first to the floor.
Bates froze for an instant. Her instincts took over as she reached for her weapon. Her hand had just reached the gun butt as the man fired twice. She grunted as the first shot hit her high in the chest and pushed her back against the window, a look of shock on her face. Her mind tried to tell her hand to pull her gun, but it didn't want to work as her body revolted at her wound. The second shot struck lower, between her breasts. She grimaced as the bullet burst her heart. She jerked her head back and gasped at the feeling of the bullets deep inside of her chest. Quickly, her corpse slid to the floor, her gun still in its holster.
Murdock froze too. Ivy League legal educations don't teach you about professional killers. The man kept her covered for a moment. She wasn't armed; there was no rush. He might just enjoy this one.
"Who . . .are you?" she asked, voice quivering.
"Like I said, Tommy." He wasn't lying. It wouldn't matter if she knew his name or not. They wouldn't be alive to tell anyone.
She tried to reach for the phone. Tommy fired. She felt the bullet tear through her breast and lung, and lodge against her shoulder blade before she heard the dull snap of the report. She arched as she tried to draw breath into the damaged lung, her eyes squinted tightly. Blood began filling her chest cavity was soaking her blouse. Her hand still moved toward the phone. He fired twice more. Red eruptions appeared on her chest as the bullets splattered skin and bone as they destroyed her lungs. The blood in her throat gagged her screams as she squirmed in the chair. Soon she relaxed back into the chair, and her writhing was reduced to involuntary twitching. She looked up at him, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, as though there was some hope of redemption. He fired again, this time hitting her above he eye. Her head snapped back as she slumped into the chair. Her hand knocked the phone that she had been so desperately reaching for to the floor. He stepped to it and replaced the receiver.
Behind him, Bates moaned. She had gotten to her knees, one hand across to her belly and the other reaching for her gun. He fired two more into her chest. Her breasts shook as the bullets went through them and lodged inside her, her face contorted in agony, and again she collapsed on her face. He stepped to her and removed the gun from its holster and threw it across the room.
He turned his attention to Kegan. He could see that she was dead. She had slid down the wall and was sitting up, two red blossoms on her chest and eyes wide open staring through the now crooked aviator frames, staring at nothing.
It had only taken a few seconds. If this had been his only job, he would have been happy at his success, but his work was not yet done. He moved to the door that attached the two rooms and kept him away from the money target. He gently twisted the knob. It gave, but it was bolted from the other side. He listened at the door. He could hear a shower running, and the sound of Paula woman gently moaning.
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Paula was just coming of her peak. She rinsed herself in the water as the afterglow of orgasm warmed her. She shut off the water and returned the showerhead to its holder. She stepped from the tub and pulled a big white towel from the rack and began to dry herself. She started the task of drying her thick mane when she heard a gentle knock at the door.
"Wait a minute," she shouted. It bothered her that she couldn't do things on her schedule. She dried her hair as best she could with a towel, and then wrapped it around herself. She ran a brush through her hair a couple of times to get it off of her face. Again she adjusted the towel. It didn't want to stay on. "Damn small hotel towels," she thought. Once she had the towel around her breasts tightly enough to hold it closed, she went to the door and spoke
"Yeah, what."
"Dinner." Tommy replied in that obsequious tone that all hotel employees used when speaking to the customers.
She opened the bolt and stepped back. Bates or Kegan would bring the food in.
She jumped as Tommy stepped into the room. "Who are you," she thought. Then she saw the gun in his hand. She backed away, her scream stifled by the fear in her throat.
He didn't fire right away. He knew when a kill was going to be easy. He wanted to admire her beauty. He'd seen her on Joey's arm before. To bad she had to die.
Paula backed away begging. "Please ... don't kill me ... I've got money ... I'll do any ...," she stammered. She dropped the towel to the floor. Tommy eyed her naked form from top to bottom. He'd always wondered what she looked like naked. He knew why Joey had put up with so much shit from her.
"I'll show you a great time baby," she purred to him, struggling to be enticing in the face of death. She walked toward him and liked her lips seductively. "Just you and me baby."
"Sure, yeah" he replied. He kept his eyes focused on hers. When she got within arms length, he raised the gun and fired once. Her breast shook as the bullet hit her next to her nipple, cracked a couple of ribs and went through her, spewing gore behind her as she fell back onto the bed, her arms splayed behind her and legs spread wide.
She again stared at the ceiling where only a few minutes before she had contemplated her choices. Now she new that her choice had been violent death. She could feel blood begin to pool beneath her, soaking the bedclothes. Her hand went to her wounded breast. Her finger slipped in to the jagged hole and she quickly pulled it out. She lifted her head and looked at the hole, and her blood soaked hand. All at once the agony of a mortal wound filled her, and she arched back. Tommy liked this part. Just as Murdock had, Paula writhed almost as though she was in ecstasy. Blood streamed across her chest from the wound.
Tommy came to her side, and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You know, all of Joey's friends thought you were a fucking asshole. We drew straws to see who would get to do you. And as for your offer of a good time, I can have my fun with you anyway."
Tommy placed his gun on the dresser began to remove his clothes. Paula began to gurgle. "Better hurry," he thinks to himself, I want to shove it in while she's still alive. Quickly he is naked, and already erect. Killing women had that effect on him. He steps around her and admires her womanhood, neatly trimmed and bright pink, her lips puffy. He lifts her knees and places his manhood at the opening of her sex. Paula groans and tries to move, but her body doesn't work anymore. Through her agony she can feel him spread her open as he slides his cock inside of her. She gasps as the pleasure of his manhood joins with the burning agony in her chest. Blood begins to drip from the corner of her mouth. He groans as the soft wet feeling of her pussy wrapped around his cock drowns him in pleasure. He begins thrusting as deeply as he can. Her breasts shake as he slams himself against her time after time. Tommy stares at her, looking for a reaction. Paula chokes as blood begins to fill her throat. Through her pain she begins to build to a climax again. She gasps for breath as the pleasure erupts inside of her. She can't return his thrust, or squeeze him in they way that Joey liked so much, but the familiar waves of rapture flow through her. It will be her last human pleasure. She squirms in her final agony, and arches again trying to taste air one more time. Soon she collapses, her life fading as her orgasm subsides. The sight of her chest, and those gorgeous tits sticking out set Tommy off, and he thrusts one last time, his cock as deep as it will go. His spasms last longer that the rest of her life, and he fills her corpse with his sperm. He lingers for a minute as he admires her body, and his deadly handiwork. He pulls his softening cock from her and picks up the Glock again. She is looking right at him through dead eyes, he's sure, but no need to take chances. He puts the barrel an inch from her skull, and fires once, the gore from her head joining with that already soaking the bed.
Tommy steps into the shower and cleans himself, washing her blood and her juices from him, and then dresses himself. He removes the silencer from his Glock, dropping it into his pocket, and the gun into his ankle holster. He grabs the do not disturb signs from Paula's room and the Marshal's room, hanging them on the doorknobs as they leave. He heads down the stairs, passing Eddies corpse under the stairwell. He will drive to the airport and take a quick flight to the coast. No need to tell Joey. He'll read about it in the papers.