Another story, my hopeful next after I finish my Alandra piece.
Here's a little prelude of something I've been working on...
About half of chapter one... not yet edited :)
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Title: Justicia Cabrera - Naked Cop
Author: Tenyari
Part: 1
Universe: Naked Future
Keywords: MF FF cons rom viol interr F-solo exhib bi (F) ScFi NiS Naked
Summary: After Justicia busts a mob boss, she becomes tangled in a web of trouble.
Copyright: August 8, 2002 / April 16, 2006 - all rights reversed.
Comment: This takes place in a 'post Naked in School' future where the politics of the day have become a little off-key.
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Yakov was getting nervous. He'd sent her out of bed the night before, after his meeting, and he'd left early that morning to 'handle things' in Napa. Something was going down today but he was holding out on her.
Instead of working the score, she was sitting at a café along Embarcadero sipping a latte and watching traffic coming in from Oakland over the Bay Bridge. Waiting for Yakov, in her afternoon best. Top Nigerian design, the height of fashion. It was a choker heat collar, belt, bracelets and anklets, and a set of black inch tall heels. Naked otherwise, save for the imported Russian dildo strapped to her belt, a gift from her patron, the man of the hour.
Typical of San Francisco in the fall, it was cold and windy, and were it not for the heat bands, she would've been freezing her naked ass off. Like so many of the up and coming, she was well off enough to not need clothing, well off enough to show her body in all its glory even in the cold Pacific fog.
Seeing the air bus approach, she took up her compact and made to adjust the blush on her nipples. Yakov was on that ship, and he always liked them shiny. A wet pussy, ready to fuck, with shiny nipples - he was a simple man, with simple needs, not caring to look beyond a girl's cunt or she would have been dead by now. She watched it drift down from the sky and dock by the ferry building where boats once came in generations past.
She looked over her face, just to make sure everything was in place. A pretty Hispanic, with her red hair in a braided tail. Mestizo by race. A different face, not hers, but close. She glanced over her body, checking herself before he came. She was slim and athletic, with moderate breasts, kept perky with the wonders of modern medicine. A century ago she might have passed for twenty one, twelve years younger than the truth.
As a tall Russian gentleman approached she casually looked across the street to the clock mounted on the ferry building. "3:30 Yakov - you do like to keep a lady waiting," she said. Her eyes though, took in the young man casually scanning a newspaper from an old wooden bench at the water's edge across the street. Behind him she could see the railing on the sidewalk edge before it dropped into the bay, and beyond that a view of where the bridge tunneled right through the hill of Yerba Buena Island.
*Paolo, what are you doing here?* she sent across the private channel, a line she'd had dead for almost a month.
"Maria, how thoughtless of me. It's always a pleasure to meet you, my little rose petal. I apologize but business kept me detained," Yakov said.
*DA's taking him down Justicia,* a voice whispered into her head.
*Now? In this public place? I still need to finalize shipment details,* she told the voice in her head. The man across the street turned the page of his paper, more of a digital thing, with an animated effect to look like turning pages.
*There's two goons behind him and I think that trio at the corner table is more than they seem. I'm going to have Joey flush them out to be sure,* the voice told her.
*I've been watching them, you may be right. Who else is here?* she told the voice, avoiding a glance at the tall blond woman with two men sitting to her left.
All of this said in the slight moment it took Yakov to put out his hand, forcing her to rise and greet him. Up to his usual form, Yakov drank in her form and kissed her hand in mock European sophistication. His eyes lingered over her shaven crotch, noting the non-smear red lipstick she's chosen for her labia and the little rose tattoo he'd gotten for her the week before. Always an easy man to manipulate; in a changed world, Yakov still fell for all the old tricks.
*We've got a full SWAT team ready,* the voice said. *DA's taking his Pacific Heights place in five minutes. We get him now, or the Feds move in by five.* The voice in her ear said.
*My case isn't ready,* She told the voice, eyeing Yakov's two business associates as they took seats at a table across her from the unknown trio. Playing the role of goons, they looked bored and seemed to pay attention to nothing in particular, causally ordering sandwiches and coffee when it came their turn with the waitress.
*Shit Paolo, you could've warned me,* the redhead sent to the voice in her head.
*Nice to hear from you too, detective Cabrera,* the voice replied.
As for Yakov, to say he leered at her would be an understatement. The poor man practically drooled his desire. But that was his way and Maria had grown accustomed to it over the weeks of this job. Perhaps a bit of casual conversation before the full bait. "Is Anya well? How's her trip?"
*At least let me try to get what I need, and get him off guard,* she told the voice.
*Usual signal...* it said back.
"She sends her regards, Saint Petersburg is lovely this time of year. The reconstruction is almost complete. She misses your taste; as do I." Yakov slipped a foot from his shoe and ran it up the redhead's thigh into her pussy under the table, sending a warm wave through her. He was a good lover, it would be a waste; but this was business. A part of her wondered how clean that foot was.
"Oooh... but... We have business to discuss..." The redhead leaned back, spreading her legs up onto the two empty chairs between them to give him better access. Seemingly ignoring her own advice. If the other patrons noticed they went about their business. In these times the site of a woman in a lustful embrace was no longer much to ponder over.
*Don't take too long Justicia,* the voice whispered in her ear. *The boys are getting hot waiting in the van. You don't want them too distracted when you need them...*
The man across the street kept reading his newspaper, oblivious to the world around him. He wore leather chaps, something of a retro fashion for the city; and a 7" cock dangled limply between his legs; despite the breeze. His jacket partly concealed behind the digital screensheet news.
Yakov's foot diddled at Maria clit. His glance went to her dildo, but she shook her head no.
A pigeon hopped from pecking at something near his boot to two teenage girls sitting in their body paint and heat collars on a nearby bench; giggled and obviously aroused by his presence. One of them began to masturbate as the other turned to the sound of a skateboard rolling down the broad lane of the waterfront.
A well toned Chinese boy in his mid teens rode atop that skateboard. Headphones in his ears blaring out the latest tunes, hat on backwards, long shorts and bare chest.
"Hey Analog!" the bodypainted girl with free hands called out.
"Yeah? Can a hoverboard do this?" the boy yelled back. He crossed over to the café's side. Doing a few flips here and there.
Suddenly he was all left feet as his board flipped out from under him to come crashing into the end table where the trio sat in idle conversation. The boy soon followed landing in the lap of a blond woman in a long bare breasted and crotchless gown, it's straps forming a 'X' between her bosom and up around behind her neck. The move was executed with perfect perfection and he lay there staring up the base of her bosom taking in her nipples and licking his lips. Then he winked.
Of course his moment didn't last. The three of them rushed up from their chairs knocking the boy to the floor. Anyone watching would have seen his careful eye as he appeared to be tumbled about by their commotion and rose to a stream of apologies for his clumsiness, wriggled free of one man's grasp, grabbed his board, gave the men a peace sign, and rushed off down the street glancing longingly at the girl stroking her clit on the bench across the way.
"Way to go analog boy!" the other girl called out.
One of the men spoke in quick Russian words and all three sat down, the other man glaring off to where the boy had gone around a corner. The woman seemed to be sizing up Yakov's Maria.
*Joey says the three on your left are all armed,* the voice in her head called out. *The woman might have implants, but her thermal's normal.*
Yakov paused a moment in his task "Hey, that was getting good" his redheaded companion cooed from her chair "Don't stop over some clumsy kid, he didn't bump us anyway."
Yakov grinned wishing it wasn't his toes getting soaked under that table. But he had business to attend to. "It's all there, ready for you to go to work; just like the last job," he said.
The last job... the things you had to do these days to set it all in line. The redhead took the small disk from him as she pulled her PDA out from its clip at her belt. She left the accompanying package on the table. The disk went in and her PDA went to life. The usual bits of revisionist propaganda, packaged for invasion into the American memes. As far as Yakov knew, Maria was one of the best meme-hacks on the west coast.
"The same as last time?" she said.
Yakov nodded, running a hand affectionately along her wrist. It was her job to take the memes and get them going on the net, put them on tongues in all the hot brothels, clubs, bath houses, and poetry groups - anywhere the -new and gnu- went to be seen and heard. The method of meme-pushing was a little like the subliminal advertising of the previous century. Only through riding the iconosphere of each key target's personal net, the result was much, much more intrusive - like spyware riding your dreams and the corners of your vision.
"And this other stuff?" she asked. The real gold was the second half of the disk. It held a series of candid shots of important people in city business. All of them taken in the company of a six year old Asian girl. She was Filipino by the looks of it but too young to be sure.
The redhead paused, she knew one of those faces on that disk all too well. She covered it with a low moan as Yakov continued to work his toes in her cunt.
Yakov thought he knew what he was doing. He had confidence - he had game. But like anyone with a belief in his own greatness, he was losing his edge.
When the Russian mafia first started up they were crude, violent, yet effective. The efforts of police around the world had toned them over the generations. Now they operated like the best the old KGB had ever offered up.
It was never meant to be a Russian who did the real dirty deed. You always got outsiders, dupes who did it for some cause or a little cash. Disposable people. People who couldn't trace back too far in the chain once caught. The target never really knew who was pulling the strings. They often never even knew the mob was at the root of it.
She'd been working with him for over a half a year now. Most people wouldn't get far in that time. Most of them would've been floating in the Bay by now. But she was good at what she did. She'd warmed her way into his bed early on, into his heart not much later, and finally into his trust. He was getting sloppy in his old age. Forty was old for a gangster after all.
"A little favor," Yakov said. She read the info blurb.
The task was simple, a matter of negotiation. The people on one side of an issue lacked leverage over the people on the other. They came to Yakov, he arranged to give them that leverage. The woman he knew as Maria, his little rose petal of a pussy, worked in the discrete business of bringing the leverage into the dealings.
Yakov would call it smoothing the flow of business, but it was nothing more than an old fashioned somewhat sloppy game of blackmail. She wondered why he was bothering with such a pedestrian affair, even given who it targeted. His influence, his finesse, had clearly fallen.
Illegal memetics had potential, but to date his had all been minor. She was sure there was something more to his game, if only she could stay in a little longer.
But this time he'd handed over the gold, the girl was merchandise to Yakov, but she would also be his downfall. A simple sex tape wouldn't do in today's world of open sexuality, but a child, that was dangerous. Now she knew Yakov was linked to a trafficking ring, even if just a bit player, but it was still too little details, and too late in the game.
"They'll be informed by the end of tonight. I'm a professional Yakov. I won't disappoint you. But first I need a little favor for my rose garden, I'm sure you won't mind." With that she dropped her feet back to the ground and rose to sit in Yakov's lap. Reaching down she freed his manhood from his pants. An old world gentleman; Yakov still hid his cock when he wasn't using it.
In short order she mounted him, right there on the open street in the middle of an outdoor café. His cock slid into her pussy with practiced ease and she began to grind her ass into his lap.
A delivery van pulled up beside the café; a Korean woman in loose coveralls got out carrying in a package, briefly sweeping an envious gaze over the sex play before her.
The redhead rode Yakov with obvious pleasure, facing away from him and locking eyes with the woman at the table of three that had been behind her. Several patrons turned to watch. The waitress served the only waiting table and left her tray behind as she walked over and kneeled before them for a better view. As she pulled up to the tip of his cock, the waitress gave Yakov's shaft a slight kiss, and then followed up to suck in the woman's clit.
On any other day she would welcome the added attention. This wasn't the first time this waitress had made the offer but it was the first she found herself being pushed away by the red haired Hispanic woman's hands. A bit confused she got up and retrieved her tray; her own juices happily dripping down a silver chain dangling from her vulva to gather on a small heart pendant at the bottom.
In current times; most women and quite a few men in the service industry worked nude; it paid better and tipped exceedingly well. Sexual interaction with the clientele was an added perk in such cases, encouraged by savvy management when it became clear that it only served to bring in more youthful and spend free customers.
Yakov began to finger the clit of the woman he knew as Maria. She moaned in pleasure, resting her hands on his thighs to steady her grinding hips. She used a tossing motion of her head to make a count of everyone in the area. Replaying the image on her optical relay and pulling IDs to see who was who.
She didn't want any innocents caught up in the events. Out here in public things could already get nasty enough with an extra body getting tangled in it. As she rode Yakov she put her stare on the woman across the next table. She couldn't see the guns Joey had pegged; but she knew better than to doubt him. Those three would be trouble. She knew Yakov's two goons, knew what risks she could take with them. She wasn't sure why those three were there, and even Yakov might not know. These Russian mobsters seemed to love secrets. Maybe they were just here to get a good look at her so they could finish her off before Yakov got foolish. She knew he had begun to compromise himself in his infatuation with her 'flower'. But then, that was the whole point of the exercise. Maybe they were there for him. Maybe they just liked coffee and stopped in on their way up to Fisherman's Wharf.
"Oh... yes..." Yakov began kneading her breasts. She rode him faster. The woman across her squirmed a little nervously in her chair, a hand reaching down to masturbate.
'That's it bitch, watch me get off and lose your edge. They didn't train you for sex did they?' the redhead thought as she watched sweat begin to bead on the woman's breasts. Her partners though, they must've seen this sort of thing before. They had their backs to her and Yakov and seemed to continue their idle chatter as if nothing was going on behind them. Trouble, yes; but would they go for her or Yakov when it went down?
Well there was certainly no stopping now. Only a few more moments before she'd cum anyway. As long as she could be sure to get Yakov off in the process, there would be one less threat to deal with. She reached down and cupped Yakov's balls, egging him on as her cunt pumped upon his shaft. "Oh Yakov... cum with me... I so love it when you do that... with everyone watching us... shoot it in me..."
"I know little rose; that's why I love you so..." Then she felt it, a wave of heat rushing over her as her inner muscles squeezed to pull him in deeper. She gave a tug to his balls and pushed at the spot behind them.
Yakov groaned in pleasure as his seed gushed forth to fill her. The red haired woman cried out "Yes! Now... I'm cuming now..." The blond at the table across from her squirmed. "Now do you hear me!" the redhead called out, as if someone should be listening. "Damnit, I said Now!!!"
Suddenly everything fell into chaos.
The delivery van erupted with men in armored uniforms. The man across the street seemingly found himself halfway across with a shotgun in his hand, and armored plate having descended over his manhood from a Kevlar vest now only half hiding under his jacket. The girl on the bench with her hand on her clit squealed in both fright and orgasmic pleasure. Her companion who'd called for 'analog boy' just squealed on general principle.
Yakov's two goons rose from their chair pulling out guns, only to pause when they saw the Korean delivery woman already had a bead on them with her own gun. One made to fire at her anyway, but she got him first in the shoulder. The other kept his cool. Yakov just looked confused as the red haired woman's cunt squeezed out the last of his juices.
Most of the café screamed and hit the floor. But the blond and her two companions across from Yakoc rose. The men already had their guns at the ready but the woman seemed to be struggling to overcome her earlier state.
Yakov's redhead jumped off of him and sprang into action. She knew she had to be quick or one of them would be dead. With Russian mobsters, it was hard to say which. Her feet left the floor as her hands hit the table. She went into a complete flip and managed to nail both men in the temples as her body came about just as they were about to finish their turn and fire their weapons. One gun went off into the air as her momentum carried her slamming her cunt first into the face of the woman across her. Both fell to ground with the woman flat on her back staring up into the redhead's vagina as Yakov's cum dripped down onto her lips and nose. "You seemed to want this" Was all the redhead said.
The blond licked a bit of cum off her upper lip. Her two companions flipped into squats firing into the crowd of armored men. More a distraction than anything, given the quality of the body armor. They made to run, jumping out into the street dodging bullets. Tasers sent them down in spasms halfway to the bodypaint girls on the bench and water of the bay beyond.
The man from across the street came up to Yakov flashing a badge. "Yakov Kuntzevich, you're under arrest for illegal memetic engineering, EU collaboration, and... he picked up the PDA from where it sat on the table but the redhead Yakov had just finished fucking concluded the words for him...
"Running a child pornography ring. I suspect we've also got you on child slavery," she said.
Yakov just looked stunned. "Flower? You..."
"Actually, it's detective..." the redhead began to say, before being interrupted with a scratch from the blond woman she'd pinned. "Hey!" Looking down she added, "Chromataphoric skin?"
Under the naked detective, the blond's skin shifted color to match the stone as she swung them both sideways, breaking herself free and tumbling into Yakov. She ran straight for the waterline, at a speed that should've ripped her legs right out of their sockets. Before a single cop could get a bead on her, she was in the water. All that was left was the dress she'd tossed aside during her flight.
"Somebody get that and pray for DNA," the cop who'd grabbed the PDA said.
The redhead stood up and off of Yakov. "I'm a detective Yakov, detective Cabrera. Undercover, been gathering evidence these past six months." Something in her felt wrong. "I'm sorry Yakov..."
The man from across the street raised an eyebrow at this; but began cuffing the mobster.
"Well I suppose it had to happen eventually; better you Maria than some faceless bullet," Yakov said. The men in their armored vests began cuffing up Yakov's goons and the others. "You're cut," he said, nodding to her leg where she'd been scratched.
"What took you so long to come?" detective Cabrera said, glancing as a faint scratch of blood along her leg. "after my signal..."
"You seemed to be busy doing a bit of that yourself, Justicia." The other cop said.
"Funny Paolo... great sense of humor there." Justicia looked at a few of the extra cops, and then over the frightened patrons of the café. "Get these people sorted out boys, next time be a bit faster; it's not like I'm wearing much protection. I'd hate to end up splattered all over the street because you're too busy getting off watching me work."
There was a nervous pause and then everyone went to work putting things in order. Justicia stood and took a napkin from Paolo and began to wipe her pussy clean. The two stepped away from the crowd of police and detainees.
"You ok? Six months of fucking him must've been rough," Paolo said.
"I'm an undercover... fucking perps is what I do. Besides..." She ran a finger into herself then tasted her juices "It has its moments. He was one of the better ones..."
"Whatever, I'm not sure I could do it..." he said, handing over a badge.
"I missed that," Maria reached down and held Paolo's now unguarded cock, "and this", she said, stroking its length briefly. "Well you didn't have the right equipment for this one anyway. Maybe next time." She smiled then paused and let him go. "We've got trouble."
"What do you mean?"
She pointed at the PDA, "Don't let anyone see that disc till we've had time to talk. I want Joey's thoughts on this too. Were is he anyway?"
Paolo raised an eyebrow. "Went around the corner. Should've been back though... he hates to miss your shows."
Yakov was still a little out of sorts as the other cops dragged him away to an arriving police cruiser. His wet cock still dangling but now limp out from his pants. The woman and the remaining goons were led away separately. Each only vaguely aware of a list of rights and likely charges being read to them.
"Paolo, I mean it" Maria eyed the PDA Paolo now held. "This is bad Paolo, real bad... I'm going to find Joey."
"What, the meme?" Paolo said.
Justicia stopped turning away and came back in close. "That? No. That was a low order at best." She took the PDA and flipped to the first set of data. "See? Its just another counter-capitalist AIDS and SARS theory. Radical socialist at best."
Paolo looked it over. Yakov's plan was to spread a rumor that AIDS and SARS hadn't been EU plots to destabilize the free capitalist bloc. Hopeless stuff really, everyone knew the two diseases had been cooked up by socialist revolutionaries in a lab in Paris. Yakov's meme was trying to claim AIDS had come from African monkeys.
"This isn't going to hold him long," he said. They both knew that at best, this kind of socialist bloc propaganda would only amount to a section 1397 misdemeanor charge of un-American memetic engineering. "Why the fuck did the DA and the FBI want him out today then?"
"Like I said, we need to talk," Justica said. "Pocket that thing." She looked around. "Where the fuck is Joey?"
Justicia began to walk in the direction Joey had gone, but was interrupted halfway to the corner by two woman coming around with worried glances.
"Are you cops?" one of them asked. She was naked but for heat collars. A pale skinned Caucasian with bright red hair, unlike Justicia's more brownish red. The other a Euro-Asian mix in garter belt, stockings, pumps, and a heating chocker necklace.
"Did you see a young man on a wheeled skateboard?" Justicia asked back. The iconosphere over her vision tagged them as a Jezebel Avery and Darla Tang, neighbors of each other in an Oakland apartment, registered prostitutes, though Jezebel was employed in human resources and Darla worked the streets of the Financial. Justicia shifted her icons down to low-info to avoid distraction cutting off a flood of information on their respective children that was coming online. Six months under and she'd forgotten how fast info came when her badge amped it up.
"That's why we came for you," Darla said. "He's over there."
"He doesn't look so good," Jezebel said.
Justicia narrowed her glance at them. "Stay here and don't you run off," she said, running around the corner.
Joey stood leaning against the wall, half crumpled to the ground. But there didn't appear to be a scratch on him. His breathing seemed ragged.
Justicia squatted next to him, the street was mostly empty; but she held a few eyes as she lowered herself.
"Joey?" She said.
Joey was older than he looked. Stunted growth from having got sick as a kid, at twenty six he still looked fifteen. They'd worked together a number of times. Though he usually did undercover on school jobs.
His breath was raspy when he answered "Hey..." he weakly cupped Justicia's left breast "I see you're still hanging in there..." Joey always had that sort of mind. He fit right in with the New Generation, like Justicia; you'd never peg him for a cop till it was too late. "I'm not feeling too well, that guy must've done something when he pulled me off of her." He rubbed his shoulder and Justicia eye'd his motions. What looked like an insect bite swelled red out of the spot he rubbed.
"Paolo!" She yelled.
Joey passed out...
"Is he ok?" Jezebel said, having ignored the policewoman's order to stay put.
Justicia looked down at her leg, considering why the blond had chosen to scratch her there.
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