PennySaver
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 16, 2020
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- 1,248
"Manhattan"
Rise from the ashes
(See bottom of post regarding joining)
Rise from the ashes
(See bottom of post regarding joining)
Hanna Marks casually followed one goon into the massive and elegant living room of the 77th floor penthouse suite, followed close behind by yet another gun toting thug. It wasn't her first time in the Manhattan home of Carmine Mariano, of course. After the death of her father, Don Martino Marks, Carmine had been kind enough to step in and run the crime family's affairs for Hanna until she was ready to sit at the head of the table.
That had been 9 months ago, and she wasn't any closer to sitting in that iconic chair than she had the day of her father's murder which -- though it couldn't be proved -- had likely be at the order of Carmine Mariano himself.
Hanna knew -- and had known all along -- that Carmine would never voluntarily hand over control of the vast empire that was legally and also not-to-legally hers to run as Martino Marks's heir. She also knew -- and, again, had known all along -- that attempting to force Carmine out would be a fatal mistake, for her and anyone who supported her.
The feral-alley-mutt-turned-Made-Man had insinuated himself into Martino's inner circle during a period when the Don had been desperate for new Lieutenants. Martino had been aging poorly and showing signs of dementia; he'd been issuing orders that made no sense or were detrimental to the family's future, and many if not most of his right hand men had been reluctant or outright unwilling to do as they were told.
Carmine had stepped up and carried out Martino's orders. It was also suspected that he'd killed or had killed at least three of those mutinous Lieutenants.
The mutt-become-big-dog had quickly risen to become Martino's number one ... and then Carmine had had Martino killed.
Hanna knew this to be true, if only in her heart and without hard proof. And others in the family loyal to her felt the same way and had long felt they needed to deal with Carmine the way the family dealt with traitors. But Carmine had his own crew of loyal men who had protected him, before and after he'd become the new Don. And no one had been able to figure out how to eliminate both Carmine and his goons without getting a lot of good people dead in the doing.
Until now, that was.
"Are they going to stick around and watch," Hanna asked, "because I'm fine with that if you are."
She nodded Carmine's attention to the two bodyguards who'd escorted her in, then to the other two who were trying to appear as if they were just casually hanging out. Carmine never went anywhere without his protection; he could depend on these guys to eliminate any perceived threat to their boss, even if it meant risking their own lives.
"How do I know you are carrying a weapon? Carmine asked, looking Hanna's body up and down with a hungry expression. "How do I know this isn't some ruse to get me off my guard and..."
Carmine's question faded away into the ether as Hanna reached to her waist and pulled her tee shirt upwards and away from her body, revealing the most perfect pair of tits on the most perfect torso the man had seen in a long while. Letting the tee fall to the carpet, she stepped out of her modest heels and unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them and her panties off her hips and down her thighs.
Again, absolute perfection -- a combination of God's gift and religious attention to a routine of physical fitness -- was further revealed to the man. Hanna lifted one knee to slip out a leg, then the other; holding the pants out to one side, she did a slow turn that gave each of the five men present a clear viewing of her delicious and unarmed body.
"So," she asked when she was again facing Carmine, "is this going to be a gang bang, or..."
The new Don eyed the 26 year old Goddess for a moment, then looked to the senior of his body guards and nodded him out. The man was reluctant to leave him boss unguarded, but after Carmine growled Get out the head security man motioned to the others and out the door they went.
"The deal is that I give you a night you won't soon forget," Hanna said as she walked slowly Carmine's way, her hips swaying, the lips of her perfectly waxed pussy shifting as well to give hints of her swelling clitoris. She gave the other half of the arrangement, "And in return, you give me direct control over prostitution and pornography production."
Carmine didn't immediately answer; his eyes were glued to that heaven in which he'd wanted to bury his cock for more than six years, which was causing his lower head to twitch in excitement while his upper head was exactly able to create an response to Hanna's inquiry.
She held her jeans up in front of her body, hiding all of her feminine treasures. Carmine looked up with an expression of disappointment, then finally responded, "Yes, that's the arrangement, but ... not just this once."
"Let's just see if you can handle me, first," she told him with a devilish smirk as she moved in closer. She still held the jeans before her, playfully hiding herself as her feet began to part and pass Carmine's own outstretched legs. She was moving to ultimately sit in his lap as she said, "I may be more woman than you can take, Carmine."
He laughed as if what Hanna was saying was ridiculous, then reached up to take hold of one of the legs of the dangling jeans. He pulled at them, saying, "Those aren't necessary any--"
What Carmine didn't realize was that as she'd been approaching, Hanna had been inconspicuously reaching down one pant's leg to a secret little tube of added cloth.
When Carmine pulled away the jeans, the dagger remained behind in Hanna's clutches. Before he even realized she had it, the blade sunk into his throat until it hit bone. Hanna used her weight to push harder, and a fraction of a second later, it exited the back of his neck and sunk into the cushion of her $16,000, Italian leather recliner.
Carmine tried to call out but all his throat could do was gurgle and spit blood. She twisted the handle, causing a cracking sound in his neck and a massive ejection of blood that splashed all over Hanna's right shoulder and bosom. She twisted the blade some more as Carmine struggled in vain against her.
"For my father," she growled at him. "Before you die, you little alley mutt, I want you to know that while my father was buried in a beautiful, private cemetery filled with the remains of other great men and women of this city ... honored by more than two thousand loyal followers who practically crawled over one another to kiss his gold encrusted casket before it was lowered into the earth ... your body will be left in the dirty, filthy, stinking alley from which you came ... for the dogs, rats, and crows to feast ... and no will come to you to wish you a safe journey to your next destination."
Carmine was actually dead before Hanna finished her pronouncement but that meant nothing to her. She stood again, staring for a long moment at the red that now stained his body, his chair, the floor. It felt good to know the pig was gone; it felt even better to know she'd been the one who done it. She'd been the only one who could get this close. But her work here wasn't done.
Finding something to wipe the man's blood from her naked body, Hanna searched for and found Carmine's smart phone. She used his thumb print to open it, found the App for which she'd been told to look, and opened it up. She stuck a flash drive connection of a small PDA device created specifically for this job into the appropriate port, and within seconds it had used the penthouse's WIFI to transmit all of the phone's contents to Hanna's own Lieutenant, Marshall Dean, who was waiting in a dark SUV parked kitty corner to this building.
With confirmation that Marshall had the information for which she'd come here, Hanna pushed Carmine's body to the floor so it was not visible from the condo's door should someone open it, then went to the bathroom to clean up. She dressed again, tied her hair back in a low hanging pony tail, then went to the wet bar to get a drink and wait.
A couple of minutes passed before her phone chimed with a text message: Ready. 445467.
She went to Carmine's bedroom, opened the gun safe with the code she'd received, swung open the door, and found first a flash bang and then a Beretta 9mm pistol. Back at the condo's entrance, she pulled the pin on the grenade, open the door, tossed it outside, closed the door, waited for the explosion, then opened the door and at point blank range emptied the Beretta on the four men waiting outside.
It was overkill: 14 rounds for 4 disoriented men unable to even aim their weapons. But then Hanna felt they'd deserved it for backing the man who the surely knew had killed her father, their former Don.
Walking to the staircase, she casually took the long walk down to the highest floor of the Middle Bank Cargo Elevator, got in, and disappeared from the building without any still living people every knowing she'd been there.
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Regarding the story:
- It begins a year after the fall of Manhattan to a varied assortment of organizations, from violent, brutal street gangs to organized crime families to government supported militias, the latter of which rose from the Police, the National Guard, or the Regular Military to become little more than extra-organized street games themselves.
- My character, as you read above, has been organizing a takeover of her criminal family's organization for quite a while. Finally, she's in charge.
- She is a power-hungry, sometimes vicious woman, but at the same time she is a loving, benevolent person. She wants to bring civilization back to Manhattan, under her control, obviously. She'll use brute force to accomplish this, destroying her enemies while at the same time caring for the residents of the neighborhoods that are under her control.
- She will suffer setbacks from time to time, but the general direction of this story will always be that she gets what she wants ... which is another way of saying that I get what I want. If you don't like that, go start your own role play.
Regarding joining:
- There is no minimum length to or frequency of replies. Talk to me about the character and story in which you wish to place that character, and we can talk about your commitment to the role play.
- You can offer up a character who plays a minor role and, therefore, will likely post infrequently and with possible very little words.
- However, if you commit to a primary character who plays a vital role in the story, and then you don't keep up, your character will likely get caught in an alley one night by thugs to be beaten, raped, and murdered ... possibly not in that order ... and possibly more than once. Yes, you heard that right: they will murder you more than once!
- Don't commit to a story line within the role play for which you do not have the time to participate. I post almost every day, typically a handful of times a day; you can look at my profile and verify this. This does not mean I expect you to do the same, but if you make a commitment, stick to it. Or sli-i-i-i-i-i-ice goes the knife across your neck ... or cock ... or tit.
- Proofreading for correct spelling and proper grammar is demanded. I do it, and I expect you to do the same. It shouldn't be a chore to read your shit.
- I anticipate that more than 80% of the posts will have little to nothing to do with sex. If you are looking for a fuck and suck RP, this isn't it.
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