By S. Sneakly, Copyright 1996

*Chapter Nine*

The Three Balls of Harry Palms

            The Depot District was the literally the wrong side of town.  After years of corruption and mismanagement most of the industries near the old rail depot had been run into the ground or had fled to other states.  All that remained were a lot of abandon buildings, pawn shops and strip joints.  It represented the worst of Buzzsaw’s underbelly. 

             Cruising along, feeling the fresh air bathing her, Penelope evaluated the data.  She knew that Olga was not the end recipient of the Bovinar Calf.  She also knew that the women had been somewhere in the Depot District on or around the day of the robbery.  The clue that led her here was because after escaping the Dairy Queen’s Tidal Trap, Penelope had found the boxes from the ‘Won Dum Fuk’ restaurant.  Penny had the address of the restaurant, so that would be a logical place to look.

             Unfortunately, just barging in to seedy hang-outs was not a very subtle way of getting what she wanted.  Penny decided to just cruise the neighborhood near the restaurant and see if anything stood out as unduly suspicious.

             The only thing that turned out to be suspicious about the neighborhood was that there was any thing in it at all.  As Penelope rounded the corner, she saw nothing but a long straightaway sporadically peppered with stripped car wrecks and overturned garbage pails.  At first she thought she must have misread the address of the restaurant, but half a block farther on, there it was, the Won Dum Fuk Asian Emporium, a little hole in the wall place wedged between two collapsing warehouses.

             Penny immediately thought that the name was probably the most apt she had ever seen, because only One Dumb Fuck would open a restaurant in such a shitty location.  She cruised farther down the strip hoping that she might find something more promising in the neighborhood.  Less than a hundred feet down the road was another business.  It was a very shaggy looking brownstone store front, painted across the grimy window was “The Three Balls Pawnshop, Harold Palms, Proprietor.”  Hanging in the door was a sign that read “OPEN.”  A dim light coming from within gave this claim some credibility.

             An unescorted  miniskirted blond might be perceived as a tad bit strange antiquing in this part of town.  Reconsidering the  logic of barging into a seedy hang-out, Penny decided that she would do better asking for directions in the little take out joint.  She pulled her cycle into an alley down the street.  While she parked her bike discretely, she wracked her mind trying to remember what she could about Harold Palms.  Unfortunately, the power supply on her laptop had run down running video loops on top of the S&M Ice Cream Factory.  That meant she wouldn’t be able to access her Crime Net data base back in her speak easy lair.  She knew the name, but not much beyond that.  He was also known as ‘Two Fist,’ where he got that handle escaped her.  She remembered he was a fence, and was a loose affiliate of the Crime Net.  Outside of that it was a blank.

             Penelope straightened the short skirt, smoothed her blouse and headed towards the eatery. As she entered the white linoleum lined store a small bell jingled her arrival.  Seated behind the counter was a petit young Asian woman.  She was dressed in a tight blue silk dress with a high collar and gold piping.  Penelope thought the girl was probably Filipino, but wasn’t sure.  Her hair was done up in an elaborate bun, seemingly held in place with four black chopsticks.  She had flawlessly impassive face, large cold eyes, a small pug nose and tiny crimson painted mouth.  A small name tag clipped to her dress declared “Hi! I’m Qir Fuk!” with a little smiley faced flower on the side.  Getting close to the counter Penelope got a better view of the little lady, she was in the best tradition of petit Asian hookers; all boobs and butt.  The dress seem shorter and tighter close up and seemed straining to conceal the generously athletic rump and the similarly proportioned breasts.

             Seeing a customer entering immediately perked her up as if another drunken sailor had offered the honor of his company.

             “What me get you?” she said in a failed attempt at civility.

             “Ah, yes, um, two egg rolls and a large coke,” Penny replied, somewhat taken aback by her bleak tone.  Even by the standards of this neighborhood this was harsh. 

             “That be $6.49 U.S.” she replied without blinking.  Penny was sure she made the number up.

             Penny put seven dollars on the counter.  The little woman grabbed the money hopped off her stool and went back towards what was likely the kitchen.  She instantly returned with to small greasy bags.  She slung them on the counter like a couple of dead cod.  Next she went to the soda fountain grabbed a medium cup, filled it three quarters full, plopped a lid on top and slid it across the counter.

             “I’m looking for a club called The Sleazy Beaver.  Do you know where it is?”  Penny had passed the strip joint as she road through town.  She figured this was a believable excuse for being there.

             “You go down street, turn left, go straight two miles.” Qir explained with her characteristic enthusiasm.  She was lying, it would put Penelope in the middle of the Bay.

             “Thanks,” Penny lied back.  “I saw a pawnshop across the way.  Do you know if they carry portable stereos?”

             “No, they big rip off.”

             “Well thanks a lot.”  Penelope waited awkwardly for her change.  Sensing that it wasn’t coming, she said good-bye and left.  On her way down the street Penny discarded the two greasy eggrolls.  Once safely down the street, Penelope found a discrete vantage point behind an empty dumpster.  She could see both shops clearly.

             She sat back, sucked on her soda and waited.  It didn’t take long.  After a couple of minutes Qir Fuk left her shop and hurried across the road and into The Three Balls.  Penny waited to see how long Qir Fuk would take before she’d leave.  After finishing her soda and waiting another twenty minutes, Penelope decided that it was time to move since it didn’t look like Qir was coming back.

             Collecting what was left of her tools from her bike, Penny set off down the alley behind The Three Balls.  It was typical of the area, filled with assorted dumpsters and boxes with a lane cleared for a single auto.  The auto for which it had been cleared was a an old hearse with fading paint and a cluttered interior shaded buy a set of makeshift tartan plaid curtains; the same pattern that Penelope’s skirt had been made from. 

             This new discovery made Penny very uneasy.  Although it strengthened the link between the Dairy Queen and the miserable looking pawnshop, she didn’t understand how.  Again she went over in her head what she knew about Harry Palms a.k.a., Two Fist.  He was a fence, but most fences wouldn’t allow themselves such close association with a source.  They’d let the thief take all the risks, and come in only after the successful heist.  That meant that he probably had either a very demanding client or perhaps he would be the end recipient of the Bovinar Calf.

             She also remembered that Two Fist had gotten his start in the orient, running drugs into Europe.  That might help explain where Qir Fuk fit into the picture.  She and her little restaurant were probably just gatekeepers for the pawnshop.  If anyone approached, Two Fist would get an early warning.  Sadly that meant they already knew that Penelope was on to them.  If she didn’t act immediately they and the Bovinar calf were history.

             Penelope surveyed the out side of the building.  Heavy wrought iron bars were bolted in to the stone window sills up the sides of the entire building.  The windows out front were clear but visible for blocks.  The edge of the roof was rimmed with double coils of razor wire.

             She went back to her bike pulled out two lengths of climbing rope, an adjustable torque wrench, a towel, her rucksack and a nylon harness. She donned the climbing harness, and stowed her tools in the rusack.  After searching the surrounding dumpsters Penny found what she needed, a three foot piece of metal pipe.  She tied the pipe and her pack to one end of her rope and the rest she of it she coiled to her harness. 

             She took off her the come-fuck-me-pumps, stashing them in the bag.  After briefly testing the decorative brickwork of the old brownstone, she slowly started her upward climb.  The masonry crumbled somewhat under her body as pressed her way up the wall, digging finger and toes into the gaps of broken mortar. 

             Without the benefit of a safety line or spotter it took Penny fifteen minutes to reach her goal of the fourth floor window.  Once there she secured the end of her climbing rope to one of the bars and snapped it through her climbing harness.  Now having a solid support, she repelled down to the window below and hauled up her pack of tools. 

             From a side pocket of the rucksack she retrieved a squirt bottle containing a solvent concentrate that would melt the years of black paint from the nuts that held the bars in place.  After squirting the bolts, Penelope surveyed the deserted alley below.  If any one came along, she would have no place to hide, no place to run.  ‘Shit,’ she thought, ‘this would be a lot easier if I had some back-up.’

             Penny chipped away silently at the grime and paint on the bolt with her pocket knife.  After clearing most of gunk off she fetched the wrench from her bag. She secure the wrenches jaws onto the exposed nut, tying the towel over that and then slid the metal pipe over the handle.  Using the pipe as a leaver she swung out from the building, pulling down hard on the old nut.  Slowly the nut squeaked and gave way, loosening slowly.  It was in this laborious way Penny removed the three of nuts from the window and loosened the last one considerably.

            Penelope lifted the grate out from the window, and let it swing down on the remaining bolt.  She inspected the window frame and found that it was, as she had hoped, free of alarms.  Using a small metal shiv from her bag she unlatched the window.  With some effort she was eventually able to slide it open and slip in.

            She found herself inside a small sewing room.  There was an old trundle sewing machine,  Leaning in the corner were several bolts of clothe, Penny noted that three of them were of the same plaid design as her skirt.  Stacked on a shelf next to the sewing machine were stacks of finished and partially completed skirts.

            Thinking about the implications of this, Penny wondered why an affiliate of crime net might be involved in making clothes?  She had seen things like that being used as front businesses, but this didn’t seem the case. 

            Probing her memory she remembered that Tartan Plaids were traditionally associated with Scottish families, much like coats of arms in other parts of Europe.  That would explain why Harry Palms was using so much fabric of the same pattern, it must be the signature for his gang.  That made a lot of sense, but didn’t explain why he had sent his own gang members to work at S&M Ice Cream (ice cream you can’t beat).

            While she pondered this, Penelope replace the metal grate on the window.  She left off the nuts (lest she need a hasty exit).  Soon she ventured out to explore the rest of the building.  It was cluttered with all sorts of junk from a long history of pawn broking (or fencing), gramophones, candelabras, ugly lamps, furniture and a whole room dedicated safes.  There were floor safes, wall safes, lock boxes and strong boxes.  Most had been opened, some showed scorches and cuts from failed attempts.

            When she made it to the second floor, she found a locked door to what was probably a large room.  Kneeling down to examine the lock, Penny thought this was her best lead yet.  The rest of the buildings interior was totally devoid of any sort security equipment, no locks, cameras, light beams, or sensors.  The lock in front of her was fairly sophisticated, it was an angular pin tumbler lock by Schtick-&-Jahm.  She took out her tools, a modified diamond pick and small tension wrench. 

            Just as she was starting to make some progress on the lock when she heard someone coming up the stairs behind her.  She lept to her feet just as Qir Fuk reached the other end of the hall.  Penny was cornered, the door was still locked and she had no place to run.

            “HEY!! YOU NO DEAD!!” Qir shouted with surprise.  “YOU NO EAT MY FOOD!!”  Penny’s mind flashed back to the two disgusting eggrolls she couldn’t bring herself to eat.

            “You ought to learn to learn to cook!!”  Penny assumed a fighting stance.  She sized up her opponent, she was still dressed in the tight bar girl dress from the restaurant, except that she had added sash made from the same tartan fabric.  Hanging from the sash was a wavy sheath.  Qir immediately drew her weapon, a Malaysian dagger known as a “Kris.”  It was the weapon of choice for the most ferocious of South Sea fighters, the Moros.  The blade was a good eighteen inches long, curving back and forth in elegant waves that promised a quick evisceration for anyone unlucky enough to cross its path.  Qir Fuk wasn’t tall but she moved with the combined grace and confidence of a seasoned fighter.                  

            The two women regarded each other carefully, Penny was somewhat heartened that the confines of the hallway played to her advantage.  As Qir moved cautiously in, Penny could see six small brass plugs in the blade of the Kris.  Each one, Penny knew, stood for one life that the blade had taken.  Penny waited for the petit Moro to make her move, preferring a less risky defensive tack.

            She didn’t have to wait long, letting off an ear splitting cry, Qir Fuk made a slashing charge at the cornered heroine.  Penelope ducked low and to the inside, deflecting the broad swing of Qir’s blade with blow to her elbow.  Penelope, as Qir wheeled around, let off with a powerful kick to her stomach.  Her knee made solid contact with the little Asian and sent her reeling into the wall.

            With lightening quickness Qir was back on her feet charging at Penelope.  Penny, for her part realized that, the last three days of crime fighting and bondage had worn her down.  Eventually she would make a tactical error that Qir would be able to exploit. 

            As if confirming her worsening situation, Penny heard a pair heavy feet quickly descending the stairs.  She let loose with a swift judo kick, knocking Qir’s sword hand into the wall.  Penny immediately turned in the direction of the stair an raced toward freedom.  When she reached the top of the stair she ran straight into a redheaded figure.  With a powerful thrust she sent the form tumbling down the stairs.  Penny didn’t hesitate to look at the tumbling body; she vaulted past it and continued down to the store front below.

            She raced past the piles of curios and lept, shoulder first at the glass of the door.  She crashed solidly against the pain of glass.  There was a loud thud as her body failed to break the through.  She crashed to the floor, already able to hear the trampling of feet on the stairs.  She pull and pushed at the knob, desperately trying to open the door.

            Qir Fuk made it to the bottom of the stairs first, closely followed by the redheaded figure.  It was a short, broad shouldered man, bow legged in his plaid kilt and the thought of a fireplug bouncing down the stairs jumped into Penelope’s mind.

            “Let ‘er be!! Ya South Sea harlot!!” the fireplug bellowed in a heavy Scottish baritone.  “This little lassy is mine!!!”

            Penny scrambled, her back to the wall.  But the tiny man didn’t make any move towards her, instead, he started to massage his crotch through his kilt.  In seconds the largest cock that Penelope had ever seen emerged from under his clothes.  It was as thick as his bulging forearm, and perhaps half again as long.  He reached his hand into a pouch hanging from the side of his kilt. When he pulled it out it was glistening with wet with what looked like grease.

            Qir Fuk circled around to one side, keeping a watchful eye on her quarry.  The stout little man started to rub the grease over the knobby shaft of the engorged penis.  Penny could see two huge testicles swinging down below the lifted kilt, they were covered with ugly red hairs and about the size of cantaloupes.  His face was mostly hidden by a long scraggly red beard.  His beady blue eyes seemed to glow with a possessed intensity as he tracked his victim with the giant organ.  But he still made no effort to move in on her.

            “‘Ey you are peachy looking ‘arse if I ever did see one!!”  Both hands were stroking his prick as if he were polishing a beloved hunting rifle.  “Doin’ you lassy ‘ll be me pleasure!!” 

            Penny was just recovering from the shock of hitting the door, as she scrabbled for cover.

            The Scotsman tried to track her with his waving wanker, just as the first glob of semen shot out as blinding white glob, like a cartoon cannon swelling the shaft as it raced up the shaft and shot from the purple head.  The fist sized ball of seed whizzed past Penelope’s head as she dove for cover behind a ratty red couch.  The wad of cum slammed into a set of Louis the XIV cabinets, causing them to implode with a shower of splinters and gold leaf paint.

            “I’ll get ye’ yet me pretty lil’ piece O’ pussy,” he was already stroking vigoriously for the next assault. 

            Penny peered out from behind the couch and saw that he already had a tremendous erection, and was keenly looking to take his next shot.  Penny figured that he couldn’t possibly cum twice in such a short space of time, ran for the back stairs.  As she raced across the room towards the stairs she heard the loud sickening SSSHHHPPLLLUUUDDD as he fired off another wad of semen.  Instantly she heard the crash of exploding furniture.  She ran on, intent on not finding out how many times he could cum in a minute. 

            Reaching the stairs, she started bounding up them three at a time.  She almost made it to the second floor landing when she heard another SSHHPPLLUUDD and was slammed in the back by what felt like a baseball bat.  She was thrown forward and crashed down on to the few remaining steps.

            As she struggled to get to her feet, her two assailants finally caught up with her.  Two Fist grabbed her arm and twisted it up behind her back.  Penny tried to kick him away, and might have succeeded if Qir Fuk hadn’t been so quick to press the wavy blade of the Kris hard against Penelope’s exposed throat.

            “So ye’ wanted to see what I got stowed in me sanctuary, ‘eh lassy???” Penny could feel the hot breath of the Irishman on her back as he fought to keep his prize under control.

            “Well then, lassy, why don’t we take a wee look???” and he half dragged Penelope towards the locked door.

 By S. Sneakly

Copyright 1996 by author

NEXT: THE CLIMAXING CONCLUSION