Greed God chapter 10

January 5th 2010 The House 8:00 PM EDT

The  House, as it was so unimaginatively called, was, as one might expect, a  big flashy casino. Well, on the inside. On the outside it was in a  dilapidated building in downtown metropolis. I noted with amusement that  the building was old enough that lead based paint would still have been  popular around the time it was built, explaining how this place avoided  detection from the super buzzkill. There was probably some sound  dampeners or something mixed in too, most likely courtesy of Lex  "anything that annoys Superman gives me a raging boner" Luthor.

Honestly  I was pretty sure Luthor jerked off onto pictures of the boy scout with  the eyes crossed out, his level of hatred for the alien hero was  bordering on disturbing. Still, if it meant I wouldn't have to deal with  the less pleasant of the two kryptonians I didn't mind, and  realistically my old man was only marginally less obsessed with our  city's extraterrestrial defender.

Once  I got to The House I gave them the password from my text and sat  through two or three minutes of being frisked for a weapon in ways I was  pretty sure would mean the guard and I were married in certain parts of  the world before I was released into the glaring brilliance of the  biggest (read only) casino in Metropolis. I'd done some research on this  place before coming since my old man knew some people here, and I'd  learned some really interesting things.

First  off Veronica Sinclair, or "Roulette" as she liked to be called, was a  widowed woman in her early thirties who ran this business alone after  the passing of her late husband. Said hubby was killed on these very  premises when his supervillain wife caught him deep dicking one of the cute little ring girls. She found him balls deep in the help and decided  if he wanted to perform she'd give him a crowd, then had him dragged  down to the metahuman arena to have his face melted off by Atomic Skull.

This  story had been sad to hear, because apparently Roulette Ronnie liked  young guys with stamina and she had a kickin' body, but that whole thing  about sticking your dick in crazy applies twice when said nutcase offed  her last confirmed long term lay. There is such a thing as too much  trouble, even if that full body snake tattoo from the dossier dad had  was hot as fuck. I already had a perfectly good unstable redhead to stick my dick in thank you very much, so I would pass on the murder milf.

Besides, I was here to meet the buyers with my order of weapons. Well, with a  trunk full of weapons, as noted the guards were pretty much wrist deep  in all the guests and there was no way I was getting a whole order of  training knives in here. I'd gone with knives because they were small  and easy to carry, hopefully whoever I was meeting wasn't a fan of  bigger is better. I followed the railing to the edge of the pit  mentioned in the instructions and took up a position, waiting for my  mysterious buyer.

As  I waited I watched the meta criminals brought in for the fights. This  match was just a random fight, not a high ticket throw down, so I didn't  recognize either of the combatants. Some big guy with small bronze  scales like a dish all over his body and red eyes fighting some small  weaselly guy with green skin and a lizard tongue. Lizard boy was pretty  quick, and he seemed to be well versed in combat, but scale boy could  take a beating and he was just soaking the smaller mans blows waiting  for an opening.

I  estimated scale boy as about two thirds my strength and lizard boy was  faster than me but had much less sophisticated bodily control. I  couldn't have taken him, his technique was way better than mine,  wasteful or not, but I learned a few things from watching him bounce  around like a ping pong ball. I must have been engrossed in the fight  because I didn't even notice the huge thuggish man with the short black  hair step up next to me until he spoke. "Weak fight."

He  had a Gotham accent, thick and gruff, and his face was thick and  brutal, with an overhanging brow and an almost freakishly square jaw. He  saw me look over and nodded. "I'm Ugly." I didn't respond, mostly  because saying 'duh' seemed rude. When he saw my confusion he grinned,  exposing crooked and yellowing teeth. "My name kid. Ugly Mannheim." He  nodded to my other side. "That's Whisper."

On  my other side I saw a redhead in an emerald green dress. She had a  mature, sophisticated look, with a delicate chin, full lips and a  patrician nose. She was pretty in a no nonsense sort of way. But  honestly, that information basically flew in one side of my brain and  out the other in favor of a jucier piece of info. Or rather, two juicier  pieces because holy fucking shit...dat ass.

Now  don't get me wrong. I've seen women with booty. Tall girls, short,  girls, fat or skinny. I've seen them with bubble butts, with heart  shaped asses, with flat pancake booties and sculpted yoga cheeks. But  that ass...that ass was transcendent. First of all it was fucking huge.  Like, a full on wrecking either cheek, bounce your head between them  like a bongo kind of mass, and second of all it was high and proud and  jutting out like a fucking jiggly shelf of dreams I could fall asleep  on.

I  literally had to rely on my enhanced perception of time and bodily  control to prevent the fucking iron pillar of an erection I got just  from being graced with presence of that fat succulent rump. I forced  myself to look Whisper in the eye with a polite smile and she nodded  back, an approving smile on her mouth when didn't linger on her empire  destroying badonkadonk.

Which  was reasonable, because I doubted most men could manage. Whisper's  thick slice of jiggly cake was so fat and bouncy it literally straddled  the line between sexy and disturbing. Even a single millimeter more  booty and she would have been pushing into grotesque territory, but as  it was she was riding that line and twerking along in forbidden delights  territory. Luckily I had a boner dethroner in the form of the  aforementioned Ugly, so I switched my gaze back to him as another  version or thinking about baseball.

Ugly  really did live up to his name too. I could see why the two of them  worked together. Pretty bootylicious Whisper and big thuggish Ugly were  the one two punch that would put any rookie on his ass long enough for  them to strip him for parts if they wanted. They clearly had experience  working together too. Despite somehow making his dolce and gabbana suit  look like it had been shoved onto a shaved bear, Ugly managed to  downplay his aura of brutal violence just well enough not to offset his  partners charm.

After  I went thirty seconds without falling to my knees and trying to drown  myself in voluminous PAWG booty they seemed to have decided I'd passed  some sort of test and Whisper started talking. "I'm very glad you could  make it Nicholas." Whisper's voice was as soft as her namesake would  suggest, a slight melodic ring to it that made me think of lucky charms  and lots of beer. It was pretty to listen to. "We've been so very  excited to meet you since Riley told us about your special stock of  trinkets."

She put her hand on  my arm, smiling in a soft, benevolent way that probably would have had  me tongue tied if I'd been a lesser man. Or at least if I'd been a man  who wasn't thinking about her ass cheeks bouncing off my hips like the  worlds most pornographic ping pong paddle. Still, I forced my icy blue  eyes to her green ones and returned her smile, putting my hand on hers.  With my new senses I easily detected the slight uptick in her pulse, she  hadn't been expecting me to take the initiative.

I  lifted her hand to my lips to kiss it, continuing to surprise her, and I  heard a soft snort from Ugly, who was clearly amused by me going off  script. I grinned up at the redhead, my eyes smouldering. "Please, call  me Nicky, I hope we become closer friends, and I prefer my friends  address me more familiarly. I'd ask if I might do the same, but I can't  think of a name that fits a subtle beauty like yourself more elegantly  than Whisper." Well, from the waist up. I was guessing when she got it  shaking that obscene wagon she was draggin was the opposite of subtle or  quiet.

Her  lips quirked up, preening a bit at the compliment and I saw her eyes  relax a bit as she firmly placed me in the category of a conquest. In  her defense, I'd make sure she conquered every last inch of my cock by  the time I finished my fun with her, so she wasn't completely wrong.  Because seriously, that ass was what dreams were made of, and I was  gonna fuck it. For now though I decided to focus on business. The old  man always said 'Business before pleasure Nicholas, sex feels better  when you're winning in either case.'

I  straightened up, adjusting my tie, part of a fairly nice Prada suit I'd  grabbed from my closet. Unfortunately since this wasn't Mammon's invite  I had to leave my dope ass costume at home. "So,Whisper, I brought the  goods you asked for. I hope some more...subtle blades are acceptable. I  trust such an understated and elegant lady can see the usefulness of  flying below the radar." I swear she almost fluttered her eyelashes at  me.

She gave  me a demure smile. "Of course...Nicky. I don't mind when a man keeps a  weapon concealed on him. I do hope they aren't too small though. I like  to be pleasantly surprised when a gentleman takes out his armament."  Ugly actually cleared his throat then, and whisper blushed a bit. I  didn't blame her for getting distracted, I was pretty sure my pheromone  production had spiked when I took the blood, and I looked good besides.  Still she forced herself back to business. "But in any case Nicky, I do  hope you won't rush to business too fast."

I  raised a questioning eyebrow and she put her hand back on my arm.  "We've been asking around about you. You're a special boy. you've pulled  off quite a few interesting capers, but always managed to slip out of  trouble. Some might suspect that was because of your father, but we pay  attention. You always go right up to the line, but you never cross it.  You have a gift, and instinct for rule breaking that can't be taught."  She reach up to run a finger over my lips, and her eyes were blazing  with zealous glee.

I  was a bit confused as to what was happening, but I was more than strong  enough to drop these assholes if needed so I decided to hear Wacky  Whisper with the A grade clapper out before I took off, if only for the  sake of the three hundred thousand bucks I was owed. She seemed to  remember herself and pulled back, blushing. "I'm sorry Nicky, that  was...forward. It's just that I see such potential in you as a criminal,  and I'd like to nurture that potential." She stepped up against me,  molding herself to my frame, whispering in my ear. "You see Nicky, to me  crime isn't a job or a hobby.I don't just DO crime. I worship it, I  luxuriate in it. You could say, I suppose...that Crime is my Religion."