The Weretiger Assassin’s Chronicles: Chapter Two
2010 by Lootah Akecheta

Warning! This story contains physical violence, strong language, and bloodshed. It is not intended for the faint of heart. Read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: This is a story of adult sexual content between consenting adults. If you are offended by this type of material then please do not read further. If you are under the age of eighteen (18), then do not read this. It is strictly intended for mature audiences who enjoy reading material of this content. This is a purely fictional story and any resemblance to any persons is strictly coincidental. It is not my intention in the writing of this material to shed an unsavory light on any person by the use of any names in this material. This material is copyrighted by me and may not be used in part or in whole for group entertainment or education, including class rooms, without first obtaining written permission from me. I would appreciate any constructive criticism, complements, or suggestions my readers may have to share with me, however I will flatly ignore flaming out at my material. You may write to me via: akecheta@live.com.

 

Chapter Two

An Unexpected Visitor

 

The shower I took after I got to my rooms felt wonderful. It was a serious plus to rid myself of the salt and oil from the harbor. I stepped from the shower and looked at the fogged up mirror glass. Why do hotel bathroom always have inadequate ventilation? I smeared the soaked glass to clear a spot over my face. My red hair looked almost black as it dripped water down my chest. My hair is long – at least it is long for me. I keep it about to my mid back and most of the time it’s pulled back in a ponytail. Even dry it’s a very dark red with darker almost black strips mixed in for shits and giggles. Actually my hair reflects my beast. I have nothing to do with it. I don’t color my hair. My beast is unusual even for a tiger. It is red and black with the colors so close to the same hue that it looks black. Some say I’m a black tiger. I guess they would be right. Just as the glass cleared enough for me to see my reflection clearly a knock at the door sounded loud and persistent. I stood to one side and peaked out the peephole. It was a man I’ve never seen before. Or at least I’ve never seen him in normal dress before. It was Fedora. How the fuck did he find me? I knew it was him; the scent was too right – his scent.

“Let me in Simon, I know you’re standing just on the other side of the door. What you can’t see is the Glock 19 and silencer I have pointed at your stomach. It won’t kill you, but it will hurt like hell.” His British accent slid over me like silk. I knew that voice, but again I couldn’t place it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!! I eased away from the door thinking of my own Browning lying on the couch. Too fucking far away to reach if this guy was as good as I suspected him to be. “What do you want?” I managed to sound sure and confident. Mark one up for me.

“I only want to talk.” He shifted his weight to the other foot. “Honestly Simon, don’t you remember me? We go a long way back the two of us: say 1981, Paris?”

The nagging scent clicked. Markus! How the devil is he standing out in my hallway in Pensacola 29 years later? “You’re dead, it can’t be you Markus.”

“Oh but it is I assure you and I’m very much alive.”

God this was impossible. “I killed Markus, there is no way you’re him. If you were, you’d be in about 10,000 pieces and most likely fish or crab food long ago turned into ocean floor fertilizer.”

“Open the door and see for yourself. Either way, I’m coming in.”

Fuck! “OK, put up the gun. I’ll open the door. I don’t need to have the room shot all to hell. But, if you try anything I’ll rip you to shreds. Understand?”

“Perfectly: If I remember correctly, and I do I assure you, that is how you dispatched me oh so long ago.” I took a deep breath and opened the door quickly with my right hand; my left had already changed into long sharp claws held up ready to strike. “Oh don’t be so rude Simon. I’m not here to harm you. Won’t you invite me in?”

It was a strange request. “I didn’t know you were a vampire or I would have used a different method to ‘dispatch’ you as you say. But yes, you may come in.”

I lowered my arm but kept my claws extended just in case and let Markus slip past me to the living area of my suit. The fact that I wore nothing at all slipped my mind until I saw my guest eyes widen at the site of my pride. “Sorry but I don’t like clothes and this is my room, if you don’t like it, leave.”

“Au contraire mon ami. Your nudity suits me just fine.” Isaac, aka Markus, took off his gloves and pocketed them in the heavy leather trench coat he wore. “I understand wereanimals of all kinds prefer nudity to clothes. I cannot say I agree with the sentiment. My blood is so much cooler than yours. But alas I am no vampire. Nobody is that cold blooded.”

“Isn’t it too hot for a coat like that? It is Florida after all – say 96 degrees outside, at night, with only slightly higher humidity level?” I made it a question. “You must be about to melt under there.” I didn’t offer Markus a seat. I didn’t expect him to be here that long. He was here to find out why I’m following Jacob and possibly to rub in the fact that I failed to kill him even though I did dismember him beyond recognition and dumped his remains about 300 miles out to sea. “How in God’s name did you survive what I did to you?” My voice betrayed my aggravation at this failure. No points.

“I say Simon, are all weretigers this rude. Will you not offer me a seat, maybe some refreshments?”

“I don’t expect you to be here that long, or do you have other matters to discuss other than Jacob and how you survived?”

“Still it is polite to offer. You’re right; I came to find out why Jacob is of such interest to you. Surely a young man of his ‘caliber’ is of no consequence. I cannot imagine anyone actually hiring you to kill him.” Markus’ eyes gleamed with amusement. He knew perfectly well Jacob was of much more consequence than he was letting on.

“Please have a seat. You remind me of my manors and I should not have forgotten such politeness. Would you like some wine? I have a bottle of Merlot breathing in the wine cooler.”

Markus took a seat in the Lazy Boy Recliner – or at least that’s what I took it for. You never know with unfamiliar hotels. “Yes, I believe I would like a glass of Merlot. It is my favorite flavor, what brand and vintage is it?”

“Well it is not actually Merlot, I only said that to dissuade you from accepting, but if you must know it is Grand Vin DE Chateau Latour Pauillac 1982, a Cabernet Sauvignon blend.”

“Oh you do surprise me Simon. I always expected you had good taste, but this is surely in jest. The 1982 Latour Pauillac is nearly $2000 a bottle.”

“$3000 actually: I bought it while visiting Bordeaux France last summer.”

“Why on earth would you pop the cork on such a vintage? That is a wine that should be preserved for the finest occasions. It won’t even be fully mature until sometime around 2040 or so.”

Markus’ eyes gleamed in anticipation as I produced the chilled bottle of wine. Only then did he realize I was not kidding about it. “I’ve never been one who likes to wait for things to mature. I like em young, expensive, and hard to get.”

“Are you talking about wine or girls?”

“Boy’s actually. I don’t go for anyone under 18, but I do like them young. I also like my wine expensive and hard to come by, wouldn’t you agree?”

“On the wine, yes.” Markus had a look that suggested he’d tasted a sour grape. “You really prefer men to women? I thought that was just rumor.”

“Yes, I’m gay.” I said as I handed him his glass.

He swirled the wine around and smelled its bouquet. He then swilled a sip and swirled it around in his mouth tasting its finer qualities. “Fantastic! I’ve seldom tasted a finer wine.” I sat down across from Markus on the settee and sipped my wine. I had to agree it was a fine vintage. “Now, why are you so interested in Jacob? I warn you Simon, I will not allow you to kill him.”

I sat there quietly for a moment while I gathered my thoughts. “How did you survive?”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” Markus looked resigned, disappointed even.

“I’ll tell you all you want to know, but you must tell me how you survived first. I will tell you nothing unless you agree.”

“I’d rather not. It is not a pleasant memory.” He looked down into his drink and pondered his options. “I could just kill you right here and now and that would be the end of it.”

“You could try. Even if you succeeded there would be others. My client doesn’t accept failure as an option.” I eased back letting my very nude body relax into a very suggestive pose. My cock was also taking in the very handsome face on the man sitting only a few feet from me because it was beginning to swell. “I’m not so easy to kill Mark.”

“No you’re not.” Markus eased back into his chair but kept his legs crossed, refusing the invitation I was broadcasting. “Very well: I’m immortal. You cannot kill me even by dismembering me.”

‘I’m immortal too but if you chop my head off I will die. No one can survive that sort of dismemberment.”

“No you’re not immortal Simon. You and all wereanimals, vampires, etc are only pseudo-immortal. If you lose your head, literally, you will die; if you are burned to ash, you die. There are a myriad of ways to kill you, none of them easy to be sure, but never the less you can be killed. I cannot. I will always come back in some form or other and always more powerful the next time. It is a blessing and a curse. Now, what is your interest in Jacob?”

“What I was hired to do.” I paused as though that was all I was going to say simply to see how Markus would take it. He didn’t take it well at all. In fact he reached for his weapon. “Before you shoot me full of holes let me finish.” He relaxed a bit, just a bit but his eyes still carried that hard edge that said he would not hesitate to do his best to kill me. “I was not hired to kill Jacob. In fact… I was hired to do just the opposite, it is my job to protect him; to keep him out of harm’s way and to do my best to stay anonymous. Jacob was not supposed to find out I was watching out for him. I was doing fine until you came along. I take it Jacob knows I’ve been following him? I don’t suppose you chose to keep him in the dark about my presence, did you?”

“Actually I did not tell Jacob anything whatsoever about you. He doesn’t even know that I’m here right now having this chat with you and he knows nothing about me knocking you off the dock today. So, what you say we, how do you American’s say it? Ah yes, ‘cut the crap’ and you tell me what you were really hired to do.”

“Why you don’t believe me I can only guess, but who better to protect someone than an assassin? I know the ropes. I don’t miss or mess up my jobs – until now, and I don’t mind bending all sorts of rules and breaking laws to get the job done. After all, when you’ve kill a few hundred people, what’s a few misdemeanors?”

“Or one more kill?”

“Exactly, but I’m not here to kill Jacob.”

“And you expect me to believe you are merely here to keep an eye on him and protect him?”

“Until my client sees fit to remove me from the task, yes.”

Markus gave me a very hard look, but looks have never shaken me before and it didn’t work now. I simply stared him down and waited for him to either accept my word or pull his gun and fill me full of lead, or silver as the case probably was. “Very well, I’ll take you for your word for now, but if you try and harm him in any way, I will kill you.” Markus got up and handed the empty wine glass back to me. “Thanks for the wine, it was spectacular. You do have good taste. I hope I didn’t mess up your clothes when I knocked you on the head. I noticed you were nude when you returned. They did seem to be rather nice.”

“I’m afraid my clothes have seen better days. They lay tattered on the banks of the harbor.” I was not very happy about being reminded of the fate of my clothes.

“I do apologize. Well, I’ll be off for now. I’ll be keeping an eye on you Simon. By the way, the name is Isaac now, not Markus. If we meet again I’ll expect you to remember that.” With that Isaac turned and let himself out of my rooms. I sat there wondering how in the hell I was going to get out of this one. Now I’ve gone from hunting Jacob to turn him into a weretiger to pretending to be his guardian and hoping the immortal Isaac doesn’t figure it out until after it is too late. God I needed some sleep and a good long wank.
 

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The next morning came early, but I felt very refreshed. Part of it had to do with squeezing one off before drifting off to Never-Never Land. I allowed my mind to fill with visions of that young stud fucking the older man at the park and the scent of his hot load. In no time I was wanking away enjoying the very bliss of self pleasure. Thankfully Jacob or Isaac didn’t enter my mind or I might have lost all interest. I’m still peeved that Markus got away so to speak even though I did feed him to Nemo and any other Clownfish out there wanting a piece of him. I’m sure the seagulls had their fair share as well. However back to losing my load: It felt great stroking my hard cock and envisioning my big dick plowing Mr. Punk’s tight virgin ass. I have no doubt whatsoever that Mr. Punk of the white wife-beater tee-shirt has a very virgin ass. He’s not the type to take a dick up his hole for anyone. If I have time when all this other shit is over, I’ll see to it that Mr. Punk of the Pink-and-Red-Hair finds out about the finer pleasures of having his ass crammed full with a very hard tiger cock. He’ll be begging for it before I’m finished, the only question: do I do him in human form or half tiger? It might be fun to start as a human and turn to half tiger in the middle of it to see him shriek. Yea that would be loads of fun.

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This concludes Chapter Two. Please feel free to write to me to share what you think about this story so far. I'm not sure how long I'll make it, but I will continue as people express interest in the story. Again constructive criticism, comments or complements are welcome, but if you just want to flame the story, then I respectfully ask you to keep your opinions to yourself. I may be reached at:  akecheta@live.com