Around the World in 80 Babes: Chapter 39 – Anger
FF, Oral, Voyeur
Disclaimer: The Following story is completely made up
and unreal. It never, ever, ever, EVER happened.
Please understand this is not REAL. Do not take it was
such. Nothing that happens in this story is supposed
to represet an actual event. The lovely Ziyi Zhang
almost certainly never did any of the nasty, naughty,
erotic things she does in this story. Which is a
shame, because that would totally ROCK. Oh, yeah, if
you’re a little kid, go play with some G.I. Joe
figures – you know, the little 3 and
3/4inch ones, not
those horrible new 8 inch ones that suck. This story
should be for adults only. If you’re a legal adult,
Around the World in 80 Babes
2005 CSSA Award Winner for Best M/F Series
Chapter 39: Anger
August 10th, 2005
Michael Burke had known anger before in his life. When he’d been young, his cousin had broken his favorite G.I. Joe figure, and that had made him angry. When his father had left his mother, that had made Michael angry. When he’d been raped and nearly killed by a deranged assassin trying to kill his employer, that had made Michael Burke… well, actually, that had merely hurt Burke quite a bit – he’d been a little too busy bleeding to be angry about that.
But no matter how angry Burke had been in his life – even if he’d combined every single angry incident in his life – he had never been as angry as Chelsea Smythe was right at that moment.
Thankfully, she wasn’t mad at Burke – he didn’t think he could escape her in his wheelchair.
What had to be the very last vase in the hotel suite shattered against the wall, missing Richard Stall’s head by mere inches. As it was, shards scattered across his back as he dove down, desperate to keep from being permanently harmed by any wayward flying objects.
“YOU BLOODY WANKER!” Smythe screamed for what must have been the fifteenth time since Burke had entered the room.
“Chelsea, calm down!” Stall pleaded, tying the bathrobe tighter around his waist.
Neither Stall nor Smythe wore much more than bathrobes. Having been unconscious for several hours starting immediately after having fucked each other senseless after having accidentally inhaled some of Tomas Lambert’s extra-strength chemical aphrodisiac. Apparently, having one of the best orgasms of her life wasn’t quite enough to appease Smythe for the unexpected sex.
“I’ll calm down when I know what the bloody fuck is going on!” Smythe said. “What the hell did you DO to me?!”
“It’s a long story,” Stall said.
“Then you’d better start telling it,” Smythe said threateningly.
And so, with a deep breath, Stall told her. The whole story. All about the Timekeeper’s Club, and their long history of sleeping with celebrity women and discussing their conquests. About the effort to bring the Timekeepers into modern times with new digital video technology. About the 50 Million Pound bet that hung over Stall’s head, dependent upon him bringing in videos of 80 famous women from around the world by the end of the day. And all about Tom Lambert’s chemical aphrodisiacs that tipped the scales in Stall’s favor.
It took time, and as the story moved on, Smythe’s face showed a whole array of emotions, from shocked, to confused, to angry, to fascinated, and finally just bewildered. But at least she wasn’t throwing things at Stall anymore.
“So let me get this straight,” Smythe said. “You’re doing all of this to win a bet?”
“Well, it’s more than just winning the bet,” Stall said. “If I succeed, I can wrest control of the Timekeepers away from William Neal once and for all, and keep this technological direction for the future.”
“But, yeah, the money’s important,” Burke put in. Stall shot him a look, but said nothing.
“Mr. Stall,” Smythe said. “I wish you’d told me all this sooner.”
“Why? You wouldn’t have taken the job if you’d known?” Stall asked.
Smythe frowned at him. “Mr. Stall, I’ve done security for a man who had a penchant for letting young Asian boys fuck him up the ass while he sucked on a baby bottle – after spending a week with him in Singapore, your little hidden camera tricks seem positively benign.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that this opens up a whole new list of suspects behind the guys trying to kill you!”
“Impossible,” Stall said. “No Timekeeper would ever seek to hurt another. It’s just not done!”
“Are you sure of that?” Smythe asked. “Would this William Neal not stoop that low in order to keep his position in your little club?”
Stall blinked at that. William Neal most certainly WAS that evil. In fact, now that he thought about it, Stall had a hard time believing anyone else BUT Neal would try to kill him off.
“I thought so,” Smythe said. “I’m going to have to tell Tchelet all about this, and we’ll want to watch one of your recordings in progress – see how much of a security risk these recordings are.”
“Marissa hopes to get another one done before the end of the day,” Burke put in.
“Good, we’ll watch that one live, if that’s possible.”
“I’ll make sure Lambert sends us a feed,” Stall replied.
“I’ll get Tchelet,” Smythe said. “Try not to get into any more trouble while I’m gone.”
* * *
August 10th, 2005
Tokyo Radison Hotel,
Zhang Ziyi was running late. Again.
Her whole trip to Japan had been like this. She’d come to promote her upcoming movie, Memoirs of a Geisha, and been behind the ball the entire time. Her flight in had landed an hour late. She’d overslept that first morning by thirty minutes. By the end of the day, she was a good hour behind. Things only got worse throughout the week. The Bullet Train she was suppose to ride north had actually broken down on her – something that almost never happened in Japan! And now, on the day she was supposed to leave, she was a good forty minutes behind in leaving for the airport. At this rate, she’d miss her flight and never get back to America to finish wrapping up the final scenes of the movie.
She made it to the elevator and got in. There was only one other person inside, a young blonde American on her cellphone, blabbing away like there was no tomorrow. Ziyi sighed quietly as the elevator doors closed – didn’t anyone have the common decency to NOT talk on the phone in tiny, enclosed places anymore?
Ziyi lost track of her thoughts for several moments, when all of a sudden the elevator stopped. The American stumbled, falling into Zhang and her hands landing on Ziyi’s uncovered arms. The two women bounced into the wall and fell to the floor, Ziyi on top of the young American. The lights went out, and for a brief moment, Ziyi was very aware of her breathing.
She was definitely going to be late now.
“Are you okay?” The American asked, getting up off Ziyi. As she got up, the American’s hand brushed across one of Zhang’s breasts, eliciting an excited response from her nipple. Ziyi’s breasts had always been sensitive, but they’d never had a hair trigger response like that before.
“Y-yes,” Ziyi stammered as the American offered her hand to help her up. As soon as the two women were standing, Ziyi looked around the dimly light elevator car. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” the American answered, looking around. “Here’s the elevator phone. I’ll call for help.”
Ziyi watched and listened as the American spoke briefly into the phone, and frowned. “Three hours? Are you sure?”
Ziyi groaned. Three hours. Her plane would be in the air by then. She’d need a new flight now. Oddly enough, the idea of being stuck in the elevator for three hours didn’t bother her so much. It was the heat that she was suddenly feeling that was bothering her.
The young American turned towards her and frowned. “It’s going to be three hours before they can get the elevator working again.”
“That’s awful,” Ziyi said.
“Guess we’ll have time to get to know each other,” the American said, smiling weakly. “My name’s Marissa.”
* * *
August 10th, 2005
Air Japan Flight 1138,
Over the Pacific Ocean, en route to Tokyo, Japan
“Another Gin and Tonic, ma’am?”
“And you, sir?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“I’ll be right back with your drink.”
The two passengers watched as the stewardess made her way forward, her ass swaying in her tight skirt ever-so-seductively.
“How long before we arrive in Japan?”
“Another three hours, maybe two and a half,” the woman responded.
“Too long,” the man snorted. “I’m going to need a piece of ass before then.”
“You need for ass can wait,” the woman replied. “Besides, there’s no one your type on the place.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
“I can always make someone my type.”
“And then we’ll never get to Tokyo. Keep it in your pants.”
“Fine, but we’re taking care of this as soon as we reach the airport.”
“As long as you don’t get caught,” the woman admonished.
“I’ve never been caught before.”
* * *
August 10th, 2005
Tokyo Radison Hotel,
More than an hour had passed since Tom Lambert had caused the elevator to stop and Marissa Call was just now getting into Ziyi Zhang’s panties.
“Lick me,” Ziyi moaned as Marissa spread the beautiful Asian actress’ legs, exposing her hot little honey pot to the dim emergency lights. Not saying a word, Marissa leaned down and gently kissed Ziyi’s clit, which was standing out at attention. Ziyi jumped as Marissa’s lips closed around it, but Marissa didn’t let go. Instead, she gently started to suck on the engorge nub, and instantly felt the pressure of Ziyi’s legs around her head, squeezing gently to keep her there.
Marissa already knew this wasn’t Ziyi’s first time with a woman. In fact, they shared a couple common lovers – apparently, Li Gong’s voracious sexual appetite had gotten her into the pants of several of her ‘Geisha’ co-stars – Ziyi and Michelle Yeoh among that number. Ziyi had expressed her lusty encounters with her co-stars while making out with Marissa, and the story left Marissa even hotter knowing that she, too, had recently fucked both women – not that she could tell Ziyi this.
Instead, she acted turned on – which she was – and let Ziyi start kissing her. Lambert’s chemical, which Marissa had made sure to apply to the actress when the elevator stopped, was working on Marissa as well, and getting off was about all she could think about.
Now, several minutes later, Marissa was coating her face with Ziyi’s juices, her tongue probing deep into the Asian woman’s cunt. Ziyi thrashed about, clearly enjoying herself as Marissa kissed, sucked, lapped, and tongue-fucked like the pro she was.
For her part, Ziyi was in heaven. Having been with Li Gong, she was no stranger to lesbian sex. But Li had worked long and hard to get into Ziyi’s panties. This young American, though, she was a complete stranger. A beautiful stranger, to be sure, but unknown to Ziyi. And yet her only recently awakened lesbian lusts came flaring forward almost as soon as the two had touched. Before, Ziyi might have wondered for hours about any opportunity to have sex with another woman, right now she was unable to control herself.
Ziyi could hold back no longer, and reached down to pull Marissa up away from her crotch. The blonde was still fully dressed, and Ziyi planned on fixing that matter. The two kissed, and Ziyi could taste her own juices on Marissa’s lips. Ziyi wasted no time reaching down and unbuttoning Marissa’s jeans. As the blonde tried to shimmy out of her pants without losing her liplock on her new lover’s mouth, Ziyi squeezed a hand inside the flimsy thong the American wore and started rubbing the engorged bud she found there. That got Marissa to moan aloud, and with her lips suddenly free, Ziyi started kissing down the other woman’s neck, undoing blouse buttons with her free hand as she went.
Finally, Ziyi managed to expose Marissa’s breasts, and she attacked the glorious mounds with her lips. Ziyi had wanted to experience larger breasts since her first lesbian experience, and she wasn’t going to miss this chance. Her hand gripped one of the blonde’s fantastic tits while her lips sucked on the other nipple. Marissa’s hands left her jeans – now down around her knees – and grabbed Ziyi’s head, holding the Asian actress’ head to her chest.
Ziyi’s other hand was still busy fingering away at Marissa’s cunt, and her actions were delivering results. Between all the sensations in her chest and crotch, the 19-year-old blonde was rapidly approaching climax. It took all the effort she could manage to drop on of her hands down to Ziyi’s own naked crotch and start to return the finger-fucking favor. Fortunately for Marissa, Ziyi was primed to go, and as three of Marissa’s fingers slid into her moist folds, the Asian beauty let herself fall back into blissful orgasm. The sight of her newest lover cumming all over her fingers was enough to send the already explosive Marissa over the edge as well, and the two women collapsed into each other, racked with climactic convulsions.
Thankfully for them, they still had an hour to recover and get dressed before the elevator would start moving again.
* * *
August 10th, 2005
“… So the digital signal is encrypted and sent out on almost unused wavelengths to ensure that no one can find out what we’re sending. I get them in whatever receiving station I’ve got set up closest to the broadcast, and there I can decrypt and edit the tapes at my leisure.”
Marissa Call entered the suite Richard Stall was staying in just in time to hear Tomas Lambert explaining the video relay system to Chelsea Smythe and Tchelet Appleberg in his usual geeky enthusiasm. Marissa had heard it all before – several times now – and didn’t care to listen any more.
“Hey, babe,” Michael Burke said. Marissa looked over to see him standing up while supporting his weight with his arms on two beams. He was a good seven or eight feet from his wheelchair, with no one else anywhere too close to him. The sight made Marissa’s heart swell with pride. Burke had suffered some awful injuries to his spinal cord in an attack while Stall and crew were in Mexico. He’d slowly been recovering, and with any luck, he’d be walking again within a year or so.
“Hey, you,” Marissa said, walking over and giving him a big hug and a tiny peck on the cheek.
“Nice show,” Burke said as she held him close. She suddenly felt the large bulge in his pants.
“I see you enjoyed it,” she said coyly. She reached down and gently squeezed his erection through his shorts. He smiled happily at that, and kissed her neck hungrily.
“We got you two a separate room for what you’re about to do,” Stall said suddenly, walking past them. “As much as we all enjoy watching Marissa get laid, you two should really keep your lovemaking private.”
“Fuck that, Richard,” Marissa said, unbuttoning her blouse playfully. “My boy’s horny, and I intend to ease him of that particular pain right here, right now.”
“Stall!” Smythe called out suddenly. The trio looked over to where Smythe and Appleberg were suddenly rushing about, their weapons pulled.
“What is it?” Stall asked, sensing the alarm in his bodyguard’s voice.
“Your stupid little videos have a serious flaw. They can be traced!”
“But the encryption-” Stall started.
“The encryption only keeps people from watching your little porn films. If someone already knows what they are, they can follow you anywhere in the world,” Smythe looked directly at Burke for a long moment. “And I’m guessing your assassins have already figured that out.”
“Get your things,” Stall said to Burke and Call. “We need to leave.”
* * *
August 10th, 2005
Air Japan Terminal, Japan International Airport
The woman sighed as she dabbed at the sperm stain on her skirt. Anyone who thought it was impossible to sneak weapons on an international flight clearly had never been a drop-dead gorgeous woman willing to spread her legs to get her weapons through customs. Of course, the woman had to kill the men who’d fucked her afterwards, but that was what she did for a living anyway, so there wasn’t any real threat to her. A slow poison hidden on the underside of her fingertips digging into the necks of three horny little Japanese men gave her time to get away from the customs station before they realized they were in trouble.
And as for the fourth one – well, her partner was taking care of the careless asshole who’d shot his load all over her skirt. The only problem now was that the stain wasn’t coming out with just water, and she didn’t have her luggage. She’d have to either wear the skirt and hope no one noticed the stain, or wait for her partner to finish butt fucking the man who’d ruined her skirt and brought their luggage. Of course, that could mean a long wait in the bathroom with nothing covering her ass but a pair of sheer black-lace panties, but some things couldn’t be helped.
* * *
“What flight did you get us?” Stall asked as he helped push Burke through the airport in his wheelchair.
“First one available with a handicap spot open,” Burke replied. “Air Japan flight 1978 to Calcutta, India.”
“India?” Marissa Call asked. “What the hell are we going to do in India?”
“Visit Bollywood?” Burke asked.
“Is Bollywood a real place?” Marissa asked.
“I don’t know, to be honest,” Stall said. “But snagging a Bollywood actress or two would certainly help our cause a little.”
“And get yourselves killed in the process,” Smythe replied. “Your little hobby is going to get you killed, Mr. Stall.”
“It’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen, Miss Smythe.” Stall shot back.
“Can we stop and go to the bathroom?” Marissa asked. “I’ve gotta pee.”
“You didn’t go before we left?” Burke asked.
“I was a little busy being told to run for my life,” Marissa muttered.
“Don’t go alone,” Smythe said. “How long before the plane boards?”
“About twenty minutes,” Burke said. “Nice thing about being in a wheelchair is that you get loaded first.”
“Does that include your traveling companions?” Marissa asked.
“It does since we’re first class,” Stall said.
“Tchelet, escort Miss Call to the bathroom,” Smythe said. “Make sure she’s not late. We aren’t waiting for anyone.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Marissa said, grabbing Appleberg by the arm and dragging her towards the ladies room across the way.
“Anyone else need to use the facilities?” Stall asked.
* * *
She had just put down her cellphone, having called her partner to tell him to bring her their luggage, when it happened. While she was standing there in just her panties and a white blouse, Marissa Call had walked in and rushed to one of the stalls. The woman turned away at once, hoping that she hadn’t been spotted. If she hadn’t, then Marissa Call was going to lead her from one stall to another.
“Stain your skirt?” a voice asked. The woman turned and felt her blood run cold.
Tchelet Appleberg, the woman responsible for killing half the other members of the Flock stood in the doorway. And she clearly recognized her as the assassin Raven.
The gig was up before it even began, and Raven was literally caught with her pants down.
“Marissa, you need to get out of here,” Appleberg said, stepping into the bathroom.
“Uh, I’m a little busy,” Marissa replied. “Can you give me a minute?”
“She won’t live that long,” Raven said, bracing herself for combat. At least Appleberg wasn’t armed, either.
The former Israeli solider moved first, leaping at Raven in some variant of a martial arts leap that Raven didn’t recognize, but knew enough to counter by diving low and to the left. Her dive brought her under the foot of Appleberg, but propelled her too far. She ended up halfway into the same stall Marissa Call was using. The blonde American’s eyes went wide as Ravens face appeared between her legs briefly, and Raven took half a second the shoot the teenager a menacing look that had she not already been using the toilet, would’ve made the poor girl pee her pants.
And then Appleberg was upon her, grabbing her legs from outside and yanking as hard as her tiny frame could pull. Raven slid across the bathroom floor and half crashed into the far wall underneath the stylish sinks. But her momentum had forced Appleberg to release her grip on her legs, and now the Israeli bodyguard came flying at her again, clearly intent on throttling her before she could stand up.
Appleberg didn’t even get close. Raven pulled both her legs up to her stomach and shoved them out, slamming her high heels into Appleberg’s stomach hard enough to send the tiny woman crashing back into the stall doors. Raven scrambled to her feet and leapt towards Appleberg as the other woman lay half dazed inside the stall next to Call’s. But Appleberg wasn’t out of the fight yet, and as Raven flew towards her, she grabbed the stall door and swung it closed.
Raven’s head slammed right into it with enough force to bash it through Appleberg’s grip, smacking the top of the Israeli’s head and sending both women reeling on the ground atop of each other. For a long moment, all Raven saw was stars floating before her eyes. Just as she thought she could make out Appleberg’s dazed face before her, someone grabbed her hair and pulled her back forcefully.
“Get off of her!” Marissa Call snarled, hauling Raven back as best she could with her jeans still around her ankles.
Raven shot her a look. “Shut up, girlie,” she said. “You’re next.” With that she smacked Marissa as hard as she could, sending the blond reeling to the ground. Getting her feet back under herself, Raven turned back towards where Appleberg lay -
- Only to receive a nasty haymaker punch to the jaw. She spun on her broken heels and felt her body collapse to the floor, the stars returning to her eyes. The last thing Raven remembered before darkness claimed her was the intense anger she felt towards Richard Stall and all his little friends.
* * *
“Marissa?” Tchelet Appleberg asked, helping the teen to her feet.
“I’m okay,” Marissa said, looking down at Raven. “How the hell did she find us this fast?”
“No time to wonder that now,” Appleberg replied. “We have to get out of here and warn the others.”
“Is she dead?” Marissa asked.
“No,” Appleberg replied. “And we don’t have time to kill her. Her partner may be around here somewhere.”
“How do you know she has a partner?” Marissa asked.
“She always had one in the past. For all we know, there are ten more of them out there, waiting for us.”
“Isn’t that a good reason to stay here?” Marissa asked as Appleberg pushed her towards the door.
“And wait for her to wake up?”
“I’m getting too old for this,” Marissa muttered as they raced out the door.