Sons of Mayhem 3: War and Vengeance (5 page)

The Doctor bowed 45 degrees with his hands held by his side. He held the position for a second, before standing straight again. The Korean man in front of him nodded his head in response, not matching his bow.

Doc had made the two hour ride to Korea-town, Los Angeles for the meeting. He
’d previously talked to more junior members of the gang, but this time he was to meet one of the top men. It was an honor, he knew, given only because of his own high-status position as a doctor, and as self-claimed acting president of the motorcycle club. “Come.”

The short Korean man, flanked by two much larger and younger men led the way from the entrance room into the complex behind. They passed a counter where a woman bowed respectfully to them as they passed, before heading through an unmarked door and then down a hallway until finally reaching an elevator. The doors stood open, and yet another man in a suit stood holding the up-button to make sure the doors didn
’t close. He too bowed.

Don
’t they get sore backs? Up, down, up, down. Fuck.
The elevator ride was silent. Doc watched the elevator numbers tick up, 1…2…3…F…5…
F? Is the counter broken?
They exited on the sixth floor, which was the highest in the building.

The Doctor followed Mr. Lee to his office. It was in the corner and had floor to ceiling windows that would have given impressive views if there was anything impressive to see outside.
Maybe it looks better at sunset.

There was perhaps the biggest desk he
’d ever seen dominating the room, with an equally oversized chair behind it.
Is that a fucking throne?.
But the Korean mafia boss didn’t head to the desk. Instead he led them to the center of the room, where two gaudy sofas and an equally tacky coffee table were arranged. The two sofas; fake leather, painted with flowers, and covered in elaborate gold-colored studs; sat across from each other. Between them was the kind of antique table that was no doubt younger than anyone in the room.

Mr. Lee sat on one of the sofas, and one of his bodyguards directed Doc to the other. He sat down feeling uncomfortable, almost intimidated.

“So. You will act as our distributors?”

The Doctor nodded.
“We will.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“The club decided it would be in our best interest. And we need the money.” He let out a chuckle at the last part. Mr. Lee didn’t laugh.

“You are the new president?”

“Yes.”
Acting President. Same thing.

“When can you receive the first shipment?”

“Next week. I have a favor to ask though.”

Mr. Lee tapped his chin.
“We don’t do favors.”

Shit.
“In order to distribute as much as you are going to be supplying, we need to,” he paused for a moment to throw a meaningful look before continuing, “reduce the competition. Open the market a little.”

Mr. Lee nodded.
“I see. I’m afraid my men are far too shy to work with you in that regard.”

The Doctor nodded.
“Yes, I understand. I have the men. We just need some, uh,
tools
. And we heard you might have some.”

The Korean nodded in understanding.
“
Tools.
I see. As part of the first payment?”

Thank goodness
.
He’s going to go for it.
“That would be perfect.”

“What tools exactly do you need?”

The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket, but before his hand was even half inside his wrist was caught in the iron-grip of one of the bodyguards. The man used his other hand to reach into the Doctor’s pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper that it contained.

Get your filthy hands off me.
You already searched me when I arrived, asshole.
He tried not show any visible displeasure at being manhandled, and mostly succeeded. The bodyguard handed over the paper to Mr. Lee and the Doctor sat in restrained silence.

After looking at the paper the Korean man gave a nod.
“I can have them delivered tomorrow. But these are not cheap on the black market I’m afraid.”

The Doctor nodded.
“I understand, thank you.”

“And this is an advance, right? A kind of loan.”

Uh oh
. “An advance so that we can distribute your product, Mr. Lee.”

“An advance, a loan, nonetheless. Loans, especially these kind, are expensive.”

“How much?”

“These
tools
will constitute your first payment.”

You
’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“All of it?”
Fuckin’ Gauge.

“All of it.”

Got no fuckin’ choice.
“Okay.”

Mr. Lee nodded his head very slightly. Although not a smile, it was as close as he got that day.
“Oh, and of course you are aware, if you do not hold up your end of the bargain, your life will be forfeit.”

The Doctor clenched his jaw tightly. He knew that of course. But it had never been spelled out to him exactly like that.
“Of course.”

“Very well. To thank you for your time I’d like to offer you a massage as a small gift.”
What the fuck? I don’t want your fried rice fingers on me.
The Doctor’s surprise must have been clearly visible as Mr. Lee went on to clarify, “From one of the girls.”

That
’s more like it.

The Korean mafia boss nodded his head towards the right hand bodyguard.
“Please follow Mr. Lee.”

I thought
you
were Mr. Lee.
With an internal shrug the Doctor rose to his feet and bowed again to the mafia boss. He then turned and followed the other Mr. Lee back to the elevator, and this time down to the fifth floor.

While they descended he felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. All his planning, all his hard work, all the risks he had taken were beginning to pay off.
Assuming fucking Gauge does what he is supposed to do.

They passed another counter with another young Asian woman standing behind it. The bodyguard clicked his fingers at her as he walked past without any other acknowledgment. She bowed and then scurried off somewhere.

They entered a room that looked somewhat like a hotel room. Ahead as they entered was a large bed with crisp made up sheets. The floor was polished hardwood. There was a vanity with some creams and lotions, a mirror and a comb, and underneath a mini-bar.

The other side of the room was where this room differed from a normal hotel room though. The wooden floor ended, and an inch or two lower was a floor tiled with thousands of small white ceramic squares, presumably for water runoff.

There was a large bathtub big enough for four people, and next to it there was an over-sized shower head protruding from a wall that was otherwise covered in mirrors.

The other major feature of that side of the room was the massage table whose legs were fixed into the floor.

Mr. Lee pointed to the vanity where there was a single chair. “Wait.”

The Doctor made to walk over to take a seat, but found his arm once again held in the vice like grip of the young gangster.
I’ve just about had e-fucking-nough of this.

“Boots.”

The Doctor looked down. There was a clearly marked entrance area to the room, which was apparently where he was supposed to remove his boots. The Doctor yanked his arm free of the Korean’s grip and grudgingly removed his boots.

Apparently satisfied, Mr. Lee left the room and closed the door behind him. The Doctor went and sat on the chair, and after a moment
’s thought pulled open the mini-bar.

Inside the small refrigerator was a variety of unfamiliar looking beers. He selected one that said
Cass
and cracked it open, giving a relaxed sigh as the beer hissed open.

Just as he took his first sip there was a knock on the door, and before he could answer it opened. The woman from the counter outside came in, and behind her the Doctor saw another couple of women.

The counter woman slipped off her shoes and then entered the room, the other women following suit. The Doctor’s eyes bulged. There were more than a couple of women behind. He counted slowly as they kept on coming, one after the other.

Finally the tenth and final girl made her way in. He ran his eyes over the line of women in front of him. Each was dressed in a simple black dress that hung just above the knees. They varied in height from tiny to almost as tall as him, and from ridiculously thin, to athletic with what must be surgically enhanced breasts.

“Choice.” Said the lady in charge.

“Choice?”

“You choice one.”

Choose one.
“Can I take them all?” The manager didn’t reply. The lined up girls didn’t laugh.
Humorless assholes.

The Doctor laughed at his joke. No one else did.

“One.”

How am I supposed to choose?
He ran his eyes up and down, and then settled on the tenth one, the last to enter the room. While the others looked forward impassively, the one on the end was a bit different. She looked nervous.

He gestured to her.
“That one.”

There was a nod, and the other nine women filed out, leaving the manageress and the one remaining masseuse. The Doctor sipped his beer as they left, and then watched on in amusement as the manageress let out a stream of angry sounding words in what he assumed was Korean.

The manageress went to the entrance and put her shoes back on. She bowed to the Doctor, said another couple of terse words to the girl and left.

The Doctor sipped his beer and watched the girl, who stood there watching him. She was quite short, but not tiny. Her hair was as black as a moonless midnight and her oval eyes held deep black pupils. He looked at her chest. Her breasts protruded somewhat, though she clearly wasn
’t massively endowed.

He drained the last of his beer and placed the can down in front of the vanity mirror. He rose to his feet and walked over to the girl.
Now how’s this going to work.

“What now?”

She thought for a moment. “Wash your body.” She made rubbing motions on her arms and legs as if it was him who had a problem with English.

He grinned and began to strip. She watched him, and then pointed over to the shower head when he was completely naked.
Yes ma’am
.

The Doctor went over to the shower and turned it on. There was soap and a washcloth there too. The water was instantly at a pleasant temperature. He stood under it for a moment, and then turned around to face the other side of the room, with the girl.

He was surprised to see that she, too, had stripped naked. Her body was small and slim with almost no fat. Her breasts were small but shapely.
Like two halves of a tennis ball chopped in half and topped with a chocolate raisin.

“That’s what I like to see!” he yelled across the room.

She didn’t respond, but he watched, curious, as she made her way over to the massage table. She pulled out a shower head that was secreted somewhere around it, and washed the massage table down.

Next, he watched as she opened a drawer that was part of the underside. She pulled out a tube of something and then began to apply it to her body. He rubbed the washcloth and soap over his muscular body quickly, eager to know what would happen next.
Shoulda’ brought Eag. He loves Asian bitches.

The girl was soon slick and shiny. As she was bent over rubbing it into her calves she caught his eye and gave a shy smile. He grinned back. Between his legs he was beginning to grow hard. He didn
’t try and hide it.
This ain’t gonna be a regular massage.

“Come here.”

“Yes ma’am.” Doc strutted over to the naked girl, standing an inch away from her. His hardness jutted out in front of him, almost touching her flat belly. His expectant face turned to a grin as she reached down and grabbed him, pumping him twice slowly.

“Lie down.”

She released her grip.
The things I’m going to do to you, slut…
He climbed up onto the massage table and lay on his back.
Come for a ride
.

“Other way.”

“Other way?”

“Turn over.”

He sighed.
We’ll do it your way for the moment.
His cock pressed down into the wet surface of the massage table under him. He could no longer see the girl as she stood behind him. He heard the little drawer open and close again, and then the sound of something being uncapped.

A trail of something liquid was poured up each of his legs, his back and shoulders. Then came her hands. With fast rubbing motions she ran them all over his body, from his feet, to his thighs, to his firm ass and over his muscular back. As they ran over him they turned the liquid soap frothy, and soon he was covered in slick, soapy suds.