‘Suka bezumnaya…’ Eyes bulging, the Russian watched Midori strip naked, his prick now jutting upwards. Masha, now dressed, ceased counting his money and stared at Midori in disbelief.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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- This story is part of the Flash of Desire Tournament
- Theme:
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The Bullfinch
24 January 1932
Shanghai
Midori took another sip of plum wine, touching the carved wooden bullfinch in her purse. A year ago, almost to the day, she had received this good-luck charm from the hands of a Tenjin priest at the Kameido Shrine in Tokyo.
Tenjin-sama, the deity of knowledge, must’ve helped Midori throughout the year. The bird had accompanied her across the Pacific, America and the Atlantic as she was making her way to France. The bullfinch had collected Midori’s lies and bad luck throughout her stay in Europe, hauling the accumulated load across yet more strange seas and climes, all the way to Shanghai.
Midori was keeping the finch busy in Shanghai. She was a sword. The sword that took life and the sword that gave life. Always doing the sacred will of Dai Nippon.
At the bar, Masha was doing her bit. The fair-haired Russian had latched onto Motoviloff. Masha laughed boisterously, joined by her burly, thickset countryman, as they staggered towards the stairs. Everyone present in the Savoy Hotel lounge was staring at the two drunk Russians. No one gave Midori a second look—she looked like a bored, well-off Hongkew housewife who chose to spend this Sunday evening drinking umeshu in a second-rate hotel.
Midori finished the glass and made her way up the stairs.
Masha had done her part—the door was left unlocked for Midori to slide in. Not that they cared. The Russians were fucking—the hairy arse of the man rising and falling between the thighs of Masha, who was moaning whorishly in counterpoint to the man’s loud whoops.
Midori karate-chopped the side of his thick neck on the out-stroke, then gave him two more. The whoop turned into a harsh wheeze silenced by a crash and groan when Midori slammed him onto the floor.
‘Blyad’…’ The bulging eyes of the Russian took in Midori’s pistol.
‘Tais-toi et lève-toi sur la chaise, Motoviloff!’
The shocked man shut up and sat in the chair as he was told. Midori liked when people did what she told them to.
‘Put your hands behind the chair’s back, Motoviloff!’ Midori turned to Masha, who was in the middle of putting her clothes back on. ‘Tie him up, get his money!’
Masha hurriedly fished a length of thin rope out of her handbag. Still topless, she bound the wrists of Motoviloff, wrapped the rope a few times round his torso, then crawled to tie his legs to the chair, her large tits flopping.
‘You know what I want, don’t you?’ Midori asked, having checked the restraints. The Russian groaned, his wet, deflated prick on display. ‘The party of rifles you tried to sell to the Kwangsi clique. What happened?’
‘It’s a misunderstanding…’ Motoviloff wheezed. ‘We sold them to the Kwangsi men. Korsakoff handled that…’
‘That’s a brazen lie!’ With an angry hiss, Midori squeezed his balls. ‘The Kwangsi militia train with sticks! In October, the rifles were in Tientsin—a long way from Kwangsi!’
Midori suddenly felt his prick stirring at her touch, getting thicker. A wicked thought popped into her head. She laid her gun on the table and undid the belt of her kimono.
‘Suka bezumnaya…’ Eyes bulging, the Russian watched Midori strip naked, his prick now jutting upwards. Masha, now dressed, ceased counting his money and stared at Midori in disbelief.
Midori didn’t mind being called an insane bitch. She quickly made her way to the tied-up man, showing off all of her compact, sleek, taut body.
‘Who did you sell the rifles to?’ Midori whispered, straddling his muscular thighs. Her fingers wrapping round his throbbing member, she centred herself over it. ‘Tell me…’
‘Aaah… No…’ The silky black cunt-hairs were tickling his prick.
‘There can be pleasure or there can be pain. Choose now…’ Midori pinched the skin of his ball-sac.
‘We sold it to General Ma…’ Motoviloff was seemingly horrified at his confession until she pushed down, and terror turned to bliss.
‘How could you… Our worst enemy…’ Midori took in half of his cock.
‘Ma paid well…’ Motoviloff exhaled, his buttocks rising off the chair. Midori started moving unhurriedly.
‘Where—is—the—money? Where—is—the—money?’ Midori kept going.
‘Korsakoff left for France…’
‘I know… Where’s your half?’ Midori speeded up.
‘Oh… Oh…’ Motoviloff was writhing in restraints.
‘Tell me now!’ Midori raised herself off his cock, hovering above him…
‘Please… There’s no money… I took my half in opium…’ Motoviloff babbled.
‘Tell me where’s the opium, and I’m going back onto your prick…’ Midori whispered hotly.
‘Da, gde opium?’ Masha, heretofore silent, piped up.
‘The Chan godown in Pootung, next to the cemetery,’ Motoviloff wheezed. ‘Oh, fuck me… Ohhh…’ Midori rode him hard now, tossing her head from side to side, the strong muscles of her twat playing on his hot cock-meat.
Motoviloff came gloriously, with a long bellow, the powerful jets of his seed pulsing inside Midori as she plunged over the crest. Her tremors subsiding, she rose off the man.
‘Masha! A towel!’
‘We’re going to sell the opium and split the money, right?’ The Russian cow asked, wiping his seed off Midori’s body.
‘How much is there?’
‘Fifteen thousand worth or so…’ Motoviloff was breathing heavily. ‘Now let me go…’
‘Untie him,’ Midori put on her clothes in a hurry, getting hold of her pistol.
Freed, Motoviloff sat on the bed. Put his underwear on.
Midori shot him in the right temple.
‘Wh-why did you do that?’ Masha, stunned, stared at the twitching body.
‘Motoviloff has killed himself. You robbed him, he shot you in anger and then…’ Masha opened her mouth to scream when the bullet rushing through her heart silenced her forever.
Midori wiped the gun, placed it in Motoviloff’s hand and ran into the hotel corridor, screaming in Japanese. She held onto the wooden bullfinch until she was out of the door.
To tell or not to tell Major Tanaka about the opium? Could the bullfinch carry another lie for another day?
