Date: Fri, 17 Jun 2011 20:12:40 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Kane. Chapter Nine. MM.

This fictional story of gay men is for persons over the age of eighteen.

Title; Kane.  Chapter Nine.

'By God, you are a man above men,' Tracey said as he emerged from under the
covers after taking me again and sucking the life giving seed out of me
much to my delight. 'I hope that now that you've found you have money it
will not stop you from loving me as I love you?' he said as he kissed me
good morning.

'Tracey, I can't think of anything worse than losing you.' For that I got a
multitude of kisses, and what is more, I think I deserved them for I was
telling the truth. I didn't want to lose him. To hell what people might
think when this was all over. I wanted him. Needed him more than I could
really say, and I'm not just speaking from the sex side of our
relationship, but he was a joyful companion as well.

We stayed naked after our toilet while he cooked breakfast and I sat and
turned on the television to catch the news. That almost spoilt the meal for
me when it did come on for there was a picture of me looking out of the
screen. I couldn't really take in what the announcer was saying, but it was
about Tampon and that I was wanted for questioning in respect of the murder
and that I may be armed but definitely dangerous and shouldn't be
approached. Tracey caught the last part and looked aghast.

'They can't say that!' he said being most indignant. 'The bastard attacked
you! All you did was defend yourself!' He carried in on this vein for
several minutes and I think would have liked to gone through the t.v.
screen and throttled the announcer.

So now not only were the Boyle family's gang after me, I had the whole of
the British police force out looking for me. Not to mention that the public
now knew and I could be turned in by any Tom, Dick or Harry.

'Well that's put paid to you going out of this flat,' Tracey said.

'Like fucking hell,' I answered, my blood coming up to the boil. 'You are
going to get out your make-up case and make Lon Chaney jealous with what
you can do to change me.'

'Who?'

'Never mind. Just make me up to look different,' and then for the second
time, wondered how did I know about Lon Chaney, the make-up artist, the man
of a thousand faces, dismissing it knowing that eventually I would remember
everything, but not to worry about it now for there were more pressing
problems to be sorted out first.

'Shit!' I exclaimed. 'I forgot to ask for Charlie's phone number or the one
of my place.'

'Haha! Got you there,' Tracey said, 'because while you were talking to him,
I noted down the number,' and I got a smirking smile as he finished.

'You little darling,' I said. 'Where's the phone?'

'We don't have one, and I'll say the word for you. Shit!' I couldn't help
but laugh and got up and went and gave him a hug and a kiss that he
returned twice over. It was only when he stood up to face me did I realise
that I had another hard on as I looked at his naked body in front of
me. 'Do you know, I really do believe you love me by what I can see before
me.'

'Tracey, I don't think you do,' as I took him into my arms and really,
really kissed him. He struggled in my arms and as I let him go, he went
down onto his knees and took me into his mouth. Christ did I love this boy
or not, I thought as I took hold of his head and face fucked him.

We sobered up if that's the right word after I had come and he'd licked me
clean. I was then taken back into the bedroom where he began to use the
make-up to transform me to look as though I was in my fifties.

Within an hour, even my own mother wouldn't have recognised me if I knew
who she was.

'With that old suit you wore when we came out of Germany, you'll pass in
the East End as some kind of dead beat.' That was enough for me, and so I
sat and waited as I watched him do his own make-up and after he'd put on
one of the costumes from his shows, he could pass off as a right slut. As
if reading my mind, he came out with it himself.

'I look like a slut so you don't have to say it, and you look like a bum.'

'Fit company then?' I got a slap for that. But dressed as we were and the
car not being up-market, we went un-noticed when we arrived in
Whitechapel. Well I say un-noticed but that's not true. We had four or was
it five kids around us as we parked, but they didn't stand still long
enough for me to be sure of the count. Here Tracey came into his own for
his ability to speak the lingo and tore a five pound note in half and
promised the other half if the car was still intact when we got back to
it. I didn't know we'd sunk that low in the city that you had to pay to
keep your car as you left it.

'It's not just that,' he exclaimed as we went on our way. 'They will also
tell me if anyone else is interested in the car. That is what it's all
about really,' and I beamed at this insight but now it was time to start
looking for the shits that were after me. We went into two pubs before
Tracey started to pick up information from the third one. I kept in the
background while he went out among the drinkers, having a laugh and a joke
and passing me off as her father, being dressed the way he was.

'Right,' he said as he came and sat down next to me, bringing me a fresh
pint of beer. 'I've been given quite a few names and I know all of them by
sight, so that's a plus for us. So where do we go from here?' he asked me.

'Who is the weakest of the gang in your opinion?'

'I would think,' he paused to think, 'that would be Willy Thompson.'

'Right. We'll snatch him first and see what he knows and then keep taking
them till we find out exactly what's going on. Now this might seem a bit
over the top what I'm going to do, but I assure you I won't kill
him. Unless he attacks me first,' I added. 'Now, if we snatch him, where
can we take him?'

'My house. Well the house where I used to live. That's not too far away.'

'Sounds good, but that would mean we'd have to take him for a ride
first. We can't let him think that we are still in the same locale. Also,
he mustn't see you. That's important. Or hear your voice for that could
also identify you.'

'What about one of those Donald Duck squeaky things. You put it in your
mouth and your speech comes out all funny like.'

'I haven't heard of anything like that,' I said. 'Do you know where you can
get one?'

'At any joke shop,' he said, and so that was our next port of call and he
came out with a grin on his face as he met me waiting outside. 'This is
it,' he said, and held up this small disc to show me and then popped it
into his mouth. Well, when he spoke, I could understand what he was saying
but I could never have identified who was speaking . It was so squeaky and
definitely sounded as if he had come straight out of some cartoon film.

'That's great,' I exclaimed. 'Then we will blindfold him as well, but I
want him to know who I am, so you must keep out of his sight so he can't
see or identify you. Now, where can we find him? The sooner the better.'

'It's daylight! Do you want to snatch him now?'

'Well he won't be expecting it that's for sure.'

'Okay. Where will we find him now?' Tracey asked himself as he looked at
his watch before answering. 'Let's get back to the car and I think we might
just catch him outside the bookies.' So we went back to where we had parked
and Tracey gave over the other half of the torn five pound note and we
drove off and were soon parked just past the bookies he said that Willy
would be in. He even went and had a quick look inside and confirmed he was
there.

We waited about twenty minutes before Tracey pointed him out as he
emerged. He came our way and went past the car and I got out and followed
him and Tracey brought the car slowly along behind me. I then saw that the
street was almost deserted and then pulled out my gun and hit him on the
head and helped him down to the pavement as Tracey drew up and I dragged
him into the back and we were away. It only took a couple of minutes and I
don't think anybody noticed, well there wasn't any hue and cry as far as I
could see when I looked out of the back window as we sped away.

He was a weasely type of character that I had clobbered and I didn't think
I would get much out of him, but it was more the psychological effect that
I wanted to create by hitting him first. I hadn't paid any attention as to
where we were going and had no idea where we were when Tracey pulled up
outside what must have been his home in the past. I waited and watched as
he put his hand through the letterbox and pulled out the front door key on
a piece of string and opened the front door.

Only when the door was open did I move by opening the side door of the car
and got out and then dragged this weasel out and into the house. I dropped
him onto the floor of the narrow hallway while Tracey shut the door and
then let him lead me to where I could drag the unconscious man.

It was the back room and he helped me get him up onto a hard backed chair
and tied him to it with some rope that Tracey found by ferreting around. He
also found some cloth for a blindfold that we tied round the man's eyes. I
then began slapping him around the face to bring him round and when he was
fully conscious, he tried to struggle but found he couldn't move. Tracey
had told me his nickname that was apt as it was Ferret, and so when he was
fully awake, I slapped him hard about the face.

'Ferret! You are in a lot of trouble,' I said to him in German as I slapped
his face. I kept on slapping him as I spoke in the same language until I
was sure that he didn't understand a word I was saying.

'So you let us down,' I said, speaking now in English but using a guttural
accent. 'We are very angry. Your lot were supposed to have dealt with
Kane. Why haven't you done so?' I said, giving him a hard slap.

'I don't know,' he whined. 'Tampon was supposed to have sorted him out.'

'Then why did he hit Tolliver's place?'

'To try and find out where Kane was. Who are you anyway?' For this he got
another belt about the face.

'You're here to answer questions, not ask them,' I said as I hit him
again. 'Who gave the order to find Kane? I ask this because I didn't order
it.' I stressed the last part to give the impression that I was one of the
people in control.

'Arthur,' he said, and I looked up at Tracey with a question in my eyes.

'Arthur Boyle?' came the squeaky question from Tracey.

'Yes,' he answered. I hit him again.

'You're lying! Arthur wouldn't have given that order unless I told him to,'
I said as I belted him again. He began to whimper at the blows he was
getting and not being able to see them coming.

'I'm not!' he almost screamed out. 'I was there when he told Tampon to get
Kane.'

'Why did he want Kane?' I asked after I'd thumped him again.

'I don't know,' he wailed. I really gave him a belt this time with a closed
fist. Then I opened up the fly of his trousers and pulled out his
shrivelled penis and balls and I felt him begin to shake and really
quiver. I pulled his ball sac out clear of his trousers and let him feel
the touch of the knife I now had in my hand.

'Now who gave Arthur the order to hit Kane?' I asked in a low voice and let
the tip of the knife prick the skin of his scrotum.

'I?I?think it was Wilson, I don't know,' he said almost screaming as I held
his balls tight in my hand, the knife tip still touching his balls. The
name Wilson was ringing a bell in my brain, but it wasn't coming through as
to where I'd seen the name.

'Who and what is Wilson?' was my next question as I began to squeeze him.

'I?I think he's a banker,' he squealed, his voice almost an octave higher
as I really began to squeeze his balls. 'I swear I don't know anything
more.' In spite of the blindfold, sweat was pouring down his face and I
knew that he was telling the truth, more in fear of losing his balls than
anything else that might happen to him.

'I think I actually believe you,' I said, but still not letting go of him,
I felt and saw his body physically relax at these words.

'I don't,' came the squeaky voice of Tracey, and I felt his body tense up
again, especially when he added, 'Cut his balls off and if he doesn't speak
the truth, then cut off his excuse for a cock.'

 'Noooo,' he wailed. 'I'm telling you the truth,' he pleaded. 'What else
can I say to prove it?'

'Who are the others in the Blisters?' Tracey squeaked. Ten names came out
as I stroked his limp penis with the knife.

'I think he's telling the truth,' squeaked Tracey as he nodded, me taking
it that he knew who the Weasel had been speaking about.

'Well what do you think we should do with this piece of carrion bait?' I
asked, hoping and pleading for the right response.

'I would cut off his cock and balls and stuff them in his mouth before
cutting his throat. Let it be a lesson to the others,' and I grinned at
Tracey at this blood thirsty answer and gave him a nod.

'But then they wouldn't know who did it, would they?' I asked of him.

'Well carve your initials into his chest with that knife. Maybe that would
give them a clue.'

'M.K?' I asked.

'Kane?' came the quivering voice of the Weasel. 'No! Please! No! I had
nothing to do with this! It was the others! Please Kane,' he begged.

'Aw for fuck's sake, kill the creep,' came the squeak from Tracey.

'No, no, no!' came the wail from my victim as he struggled against his
bonds.

'No. You're right. I won't kill you now,' I said to him in a low voice,
'but I'm going to give you something to remember me by,' and I raise the
knife and slit one of his nostrils. He gave out a scream as the knife cut
him but I cut it short by thumping on the side of the neck and rendered him
unconscious again.

'Where do this mob usually hang out?' I asked Tracey as I untied the man
from the chair.

'The Rose and Crown,' was the answer, and so we got him into the car and
dumped him outside this pub and drove off.

'So what did we get? Arthur Boyle and this man called Wilson,' Tracey said
as we drove back to Notting Hill Gate.

'Well you know Arthur Boyle and I know Wilson. Wilson is the vice president
of the bank we are interested in from the prospectus you got today.'

'Wow. You do know how to do this kind of thing, don't you?' Tracey said,
giving me a strange look that was more of awe than respect.

'Maybe I do,' not quite sure which way I should take that remark. But if I
had been in intelligence and had done special ops as Charlie had said,
maybe I'd had practice at this kind of thing before. It was, maybe another
piece of the jigsaw to my past, but I wasn't still sure and I still needed
to know more. This gave me a lot to think about as we drove home to our
flat.