Whipped Up

Chapter 3

THREE

When Frank came through the door of the club, two couples writhed around the small stage. He gaped. Johnny Stokes watched intensely, his eyes glued on the bald, skinny black guy who had a c**k as big as Frank’s forearm. The girl beneath him had her knees pressed back against her breasts as the guy drilled her with long, deep thrusts, rotating his hips to grind into her. Covered in sweat, her moaning constant and very loud, Frank thought she sounded in pain.

The more he watched, however, the more he realised her cries were those of pleasure.

His gaze shifted to the other couple, and the girl bouncing up and down on another guy’s c**k. She seemed bored and he didn’t appear very interested either, both of them going through a well-rehearsed act. She had difficulty keeping his flaccid c**k inside her.

Frank stepped up behind Johnny and breathed into his ear, “What the f*****g hell is going on here?”

Johnny, who wore a grey flannel suit, with a satin shirt also in grey, and a bootlace tie, almost jumped out his skin, upturning the stool on which he sat in his surprise, stood up and gaped at his boss. “Jesus, Frank, you scared the f*****g life out of me.”

The girl under the black guy screamed, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” and Frank noticed Johnny was close to doing the same, his erection tenting his trousers. “I asked you what the f**k is going on.”

“I’m auditioning, Frank. Live s*x show.”

“Oh s**t, I’m gonna come!”

Frank glanced towards the stage and at that moment, she orgasmed, arching her back, going into some form of fit, legs thrashing, arms flapping around as if she were trying to fly. The black guy gently withdrew his enormous member and she squirted all over him.

“Get rid of them.”

“But, Frank, I—”

“Now.”

Johnny immediately clapped his hands twice. “Okay, okay, thanks everyone ...” He went up to the black guy and said something to him as the other ‘performers’ gathered up their clothes and crossed the dance floor towards the exit. The girl who had orgasmed so demonstratively took her time, looking shaken and breathing hard. “You, darlin’,” said Johnny with a lewd grin, “This Friday, eleven o’clock.”

Frank didn’t give them so much as a glance as they trooped out. He went around the far side of the bar and poured himself a whisky. He drained it in one and poured a second. “I asked you to do something for me, Johnny, not conduct some sort of private peep show.”

“Frank, I told you, it was a—”

Frank held up his hand, “Yeah, you said. An audition. I’m not interested, Johnny, I just want to know what you’ve found out.”

Johnny took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Not a lot, sorry to say.”

With great care, Frank put down the glass on the counter and rotated it three hundred and sixty degrees, “You better not be joking, Johnny, because I want to know where that little s**t is and I want to know now.”

Johnny looked as if a wasp had stung him, his face twisting up in discomfort. He shook his head, “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Back to the UK.”

Frank took a few seconds to mull over the news. His voice held a hint of menace when he said, “And his girlfriend?”

“The same. He’s left Spain and has gone looking for her.”

Frank thought for a moment, chewed his bottom lip, then gave Johnny his finest Clint Eastwood, “Well, you get yourself over there and f*****g well find them.” He picked up the glass and studied it. “I want him dead,” he yelled and brought down the glass with a solid c***k on the counter. It was a heavy glass and didn’t smash, which was fortunate for Frank’s hand.

“But what about the club, Frank? Who’s going to look after everything?”

“I couldn’t give a flying f**k about any of that, Johnny. That bastard is responsible for the murder of my wife and I want him dead, his girlfriend dead, and anyone who knows him or even looks at him across a crowded room dead. I want his head on a silver platter, delivered to me in a fortnight, or I’ll f*****g have you killed too.”

“Frank, you can’t—”

“I’ve sorted it. You fly over there and you’ll have all the help you need. You find him and you kill them both. You do the girl first, and you make sure he sees and knows why. You understand?” Johnny nodded without a word. “You ask her friends where she’s gone, and then you go and do it. I’m holding you personally responsible for this, Johnny, so you better not make a balls up.”

“I won’t, Mr Leonard, I promise.”

Frank nodded and fixed himself another drink. He took a few deep breaths before staring Johnny straight in the face. “Now, before you go, you tell me how the black guy managed to make that girl squirt.”