Contact e-mail: rajahdodger@yahoo.com

Senior citizen, American, sporadic smut writer who occasionally dabbles in mc themes

When I get the chance to return here, I'll post something relevant.

In the meantime, there is this microfic...

High-Stake Showdown

by Rajah Dodger {rdodger@hotmail.com} (c) 2020

     This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License (by-nc-sa).  In jurisdictions where the Creative Commons license is not recognized, United States copyright and Berne Convention provisions apply; all rights reserved to Rajah Dodger except that electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights are explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note must remain attached.

     Tripp closed the manila folder.  The "investment broker" was a Fed, and that meant they'd connected Tripp with the missing women.  Damn.  Still, even a Fed could be handled with the right setup.

     "Frank Castle" showed promptly at eight and quickly dropped the pretense of business, showing pictures of two of Tripp's acquisitions.  "Get these back, and you'll get a say in where we put you.  Hey, would you turn down that music?"  The Fed didn't like "Relax".  Too bad.

     Tripp in turn offered his entire server and data in exchange for protection from his partners.  He even let the Fed come watch as he put his three passwords into the swirling blurred screen saver.

     Between the vivid on-screen porn and the hypno tracks turned up to eleven, the guy never had a chance.  Confident Fed to bottom cocksucker in one easy lesson.  Damn, Tripp thought, this guy had natural talent.  Tripp came into his mouth, then again...

     Tripp awoke naked, tied, and drooling for cock.  The Fed, carrying Tripp's computer, laughed.  "Next time you try to turn someone gay, make sure they aren't already that way.  Hey, if you're good enough, maybe your partners will keep you around.  Bye!"

/ END /