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“How can I be sure that you won’t shoot him the moment I’m in the car?” In the back of her head, Kim hears something about looking a horse in the mouth. She’s heard that phrase a lot, quite a few people in her life have found her weariness around gifts unusual at best, and snooty at worst. But she isn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth, she’s looking down the barrel of a silencer-wearing handgun which just deposited its first round into the head of Howard Hamlin.
“Kim…” Jimmy mumbles. His jaw shifts, alternating between which lip he wants to scrape against his teeth. He’s looking down, the gun perpendicular to his forehead, his eyes on the growing puddle of blood. Hamlin’s eyes stare into the counter Kim and Jimmy use as their dining table, though he’s hardly in a space to appreciate the elegance of the countertops placed on black cabinets.
“So loyal, this one. You must really have a cock to die for!” Lalo tugs Jimmy’s hair, making eye contact. Jimmy cringes as the warm barrel presses against his lips.
“Please! Please!” Kim wheezes. “I’ll do whatever you want! You can’t shoot him while I’m gone!”
“Calm yourself!” Lalo chides in a playful, humorous tone. “I won’t ruin your husband's pretty face. We might even have a whole lot of fun while you’re out.” Jimmy grunts, having the bewildering thought that a cold sweat would be useless as lubricant. “It’s a cold night, you could be getting the car warmed up.”
"How do I know this... Fun, won't end in him getting shot."
“Ki-!” The gun smacks against Jimmy’s front teeth. As if to mock his current predicament, Lalo shows off all of his teeth in response, and the room drops in temperature.
"Would you like to watch and find out?"
Kim swallows, her throat bops up and down. Tears poke at the corner of her eyes but she can’t bear to look away from the lengths she’ll go to keep Jimmy alive. “If I watch…” Jimmy would never, ever, not in a million years put her in a situation even remotely like this. And yet. “... does that mean you won’t shoot him?”
Lalo wolf whistles. “¡Madre mía! I see now, you pulled a real freaky one! I misjudged the situation here.” Jimmy is looking at her now, but she refuses to look back, knowing the heat of his confused expression would be enough to scorch her blind. “Alright! On your feet!”
They stand. Jimmy’s fingers reach for Kim’s hand, but she withdrawals into herself, clasping her hands in front of her chest. Lalo flicks the gun towards her. “I know you have zip ties in your kitchen.
Kim decides that she didn’t hear Jimmy whimper as she turns her back to him. It’s because of something Lalo did, her mind supplies. But trying to rationalize it to herself means acknowledging that it was real.
Open. Shut. Jimmy flinches as the drawer slams closed. Kim should’ve faced the wall a second longer so she didn’t have to see that. Even with their somewhat open-floor apartment, she’s got no room to breathe.
“Good. Now hand ‘em over.” Lalo’s soft tone makes her fists clench. The thought of his hands all over her husband, the thought of him tying Jimmy up without a single consideration for Jimmy’s comfort.
If this is going to happen, she’ll make it happen as painlessly as possible…
“I’ll do it.”
“I can get behind a woman who takes initiative!”
“Kim…” She cringes. His soft, vulnerable voice has images of him on his knees flashing across her vision. It’s the tone he uses when he shows his submissive side and she uses her hands to unravel him manually. But it’s wholly inappropriate for this setting, and the nature of this setting has every reason to cancel out the arousal she feels.
She presents her argument clearly and concisely but the judge shakes his head.
“Just put your hands behind your back,” she whispers. God she wishes he hesitated, but also wishes he wouldn’t. There’s a clear conflict of interest on both sides. A zip-tie around each wrist, and a zip-tie between them make for DIY handcuffs.
“Come on, you can go a little tighter than that.” Lalo reaches over her work — how did he get this close — and pulls the zip-ties until they bite into his skin. Both lovers make a sound. Would slapping his hands away have earned her a bullet in the head? Is not getting a bullet in the head worth what will happen next?
“Lubricant.”
She doesn’t register that as a word.
“Cooking oil perhaps?”
“We have lube…” Jimmy offers timidly.
“I’ll get it.” Kim takes a step forward and sways, the ground twisting. Was the bedroom always this far away? With her back turned, Jimmy may as well be dead and not dead simultaneously, the act of turning back around being what seals his fate. Every creak of the building is Lalo pulling the trigger.
The lube is where they left it: dropped haphazardly on the floor as they allowed the lust of winning Sandpiper to overtake them. It’s cold, so she holds it to her chest. Anything to make this more pleasant for him.
When she turns, Jimmy is on his knees, a rag in his mouth, Lalo’s gun to his forehead. If she were in his right mind, she’d snap at Lalo daring to put pressure on Jimmy’s bad knee. Oh sweet Jimmy, the cloudy look of subspace in his eyes knocks them both helpless.
“Good,” Lalo purrs. “We’re all ready. Take his cock out.”
Like a good girl, she gets on her knees behind Jimmy. She's already on the ground when she thinks she should grab a cushion for Jimmy's knee. How pathetic, everything she could do to help is just out of reach. Her arms wrap around his torso, her breathing syncs to his, chests rising and falling.
Her hands start at his collarbone and feel their way down his chest and torso. He shudders as her palms rub against his nipples, and it resonates through her body. Not wanting the image of Lalo’s gun to Jimmy’s forehead seared into her mind, she presses her face into the crook of his neck. If only she could breathe him into her lungs and release him in one long exhale. Her lips press against the tender flesh and he moans.
“I’m so sorry, Jimmy…” She whispers right against the soft area below his ear. His breath hitches, and he learns exactly what she has to be sorry for when his belt comes undone. His cock is warm and throbbing in her hands. Jimmy moans again, long and high pitched, his hips involuntarily bucking into her hands.
“Not bad.” Kim jumps as Lalo’s boot slams against the backs of her hands. She keeps her hold on Jimmy, though this is of little concern to Lalo, as he continues to grind his boot against her knuckles until they blister and bleed.
“Stop,” Jimmy whines through the gag. Lalo is this entire world at the moment, but this plea is directed at Kim, who can not hide her winces and whimpers of pain. His head spins and his cock is harder than its ever been and God he wishes she would let him hump Lalo’s leg like the stupid emotionally unfaithful dog he is.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Lalo circles around until he’s at Kim’s back. He gives her a light kick in the side. “Move it. Hold him still.” The or else has already been said, it doesn’t bear repeating.
She crawls until she is able to look Jimmy in his drowsy, droopy eyes. A sign of recognition floats up from the trance he’s in. Oh Kim, how much he loves to be able to see her now. His skin is so hot, desperate for her hands back on his cock and her lips back on his neck, or really anywhere at all, he doesn’t care, just as long as she’s touching him. His head practically falls against her hand as it rises to cup his cheek. How could he love me, Kim thinks, when I’m about to be his rapist?
Lalo jams a finger into him and he lurches forward. “I said hold him still!” Lalo barks and smacks Kim on the head with the pistol. So hold him still she does, their chests flush against each other, his drool running down her shirt. Jimmy relaxes, putty in her arms, soft and malleable enough for Lalo to spread him open.
As his dom, Kim had her boundaries. She would not tie him up, she would not degrade him, she would not spank him more than a few good smacks on the bottom, she would not press down on his gag spot until he vomited, and she would not hold a gun to his head. He respected this about her, never pushed these beyond a few attempts at using handcuffs. But by God could he not shake how much he needed to be treated as nothing more than her dirty cum rag.
The sound of flesh striking flesh is absorbed by the walls of their tiny apartment. At first, he thinks it was Kim who was hit, for she’s the one who cries out in fear. But a burning sensation forms at his asscheek. Lalo spanks him again, and Jimmy inhales sharply, mind numbed by the smell of Kim’s seat. Oh God, Oh God, if one of them could use their words maybe Lalo would flip him onto his back and let Kim sit on his face, please God, please answer this prayer.
Kim stares down with horror at Lalo’s cock. The pain she feels watching her husband be penetrated covers only a fraction of the penance she deserves for allowing this to happen. The sound of Jimmy moaning drowns out her pitiful little sob.
“You’re doing so good, Jimmy,” she whispers. Like she said the magic words, Jimmy goes bucks against her. “I’m so sorry. You’re such a good boy. Such a good boy, Jimmy. You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry.” Her tears soak into shirt.
“Mmmm…” Jimmy groans. Lalo’s cock slams against this prostate and stars dance in his vision. He’s not sure what Kim could be apologizing for, but he’s a pleasure balloon about to explode. Her hand snakes between his legs and begins jerking him off again, grinding her bruised knuckles against the pants zipper.
With every thrust, Jimmy lurches forward. And Kim resists the movement, shoving him back down onto Lalo’s cock. Like he’s just a fleshlight between the two of them. That thought makes him dizzy, another swirl in the soup that is his thoughts.
“Jimmy, Jimmy…” She chants. “You’re such a good boy,” she says between shuddering breaths. “You’ve been so good, Jimmy.” He keens, the gag soaked. “You’re almost done, Jimmy. You were so good. So good. I love you, I love you, I’m so fucking sorry. I love you, I love you-”
He wanted to say: Oh Kim, please don't cry. I'm not in pain. He wanted to say: You have to get in the car now and drive. Just go and don't come back! He wanted to say: Oh my god, oh my god. Kim, Kim, please. Please keep doing that. Oh my god, Kim, I'm so fucking close. Kim, Kim, please, oh my g-
Jimmy’s vision goes white.
Cum splatters onto her, and distantly he’s sure Lalo just came inside of him. His body goes limp in Kim’s arms. He looks up at her, breathing heavily, pupils bloated. Wasn’t he a good boy? Isn’t she proud of him? But she won’t look at him, and that makes his heart fall and his body exhale a pitiful whine.
When both of them leave, he’s left on the floor. His mind tingles with TV static. Momentarily, his consciousness pops back up, but upon registering the face of the deceased Hamlin, it retreats back into the quiet bliss.
There’s surely something that happens later that night. At some point Mike is there, though if he said anything to Jimmy it was all but unintelligible. Mikes puts him in the shower, which seems out of the ordinary, for you usually get a dumb mutt clean by using the hose outside.
And then there’s Kim! Back from whatever horror Lalo sent her to. She frowns when she sees him. Won’t she let him cheer her up? His body feels all numb, so he can handle being on his knees again if it’s for her. But she crawls in bed, and he crawls in after her, even though he knows he should just stay on the ground where he belongs.
“Kim…” he whimpers.
She turns away from him.
Is it because I enjoyed being touched by someone else? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I only did it for you. You’re the only one who could ever make me feel that way again. He presses his face into her back, and still she has no final words for him.
***
Saul could faintly hear the sound of his tires scrapping against the road over the sound of the radio and the two prostitutes in the passenger’s seat singing their hearts out. The other people on the road can certainly hear him coming as he swerves between lanes. One of the prostitutes pours ever clear on his head and the city lights blur into a beautiful mosaic.
Any traffic cop in a fifty mile radius knows his license plate by heart. And they know not to pull him over after he made a DUI trial into a two month affair. It was glorious. And one of these days he'll catch one of those pigs off guard, and he'll be more than happy to pull the stunt all over again.
No one was proud of him for that one. Which is fine. He's starved himself for so long that he's been cured of his need to eat.
Something about his ability to handle sexual intimacy has been tainted. That night in his old apartment was a box of strawberries left in the back of the fridge, mold spilling from the ventilation holes and crawling up the walls. Growing on and consuming every fantasy of his until it's all just Lalo’s hands on his hips and Kim's hands on his cheeks.
“Come on cutie, you gotta let me have it.” One of the prostitutes leans over the center console to dive mouth first into his crotch. His hand comes up to meet her forehead. She startles, spilling everclear down his pants.
“A little patience, sweetheart,” he says, patting her head like a dog. Truth is, he’s had a not insignificant amount of trouble getting hard when he’s free to move as he pleases. Funny how often these men and women take offense, as though he wants to be like this, like he can just spontaneously make himself soft to piss them off. Man, wouldn’t he have loved that ability back when he gave a shit about his job.
They pull up to the driveway of Saul’s house, his museum to himself. When Jimmy had mentioned the insane sociopath bent on forming his own labor-lawless country to Kim, she’d used the phrase jerk off mansion to describe the man in question’s home. That sent Jimmy into a well of giggles for the next few days, and Saul took it upon himself to step it up, creating what must be the most masturbatory building in five hundred miles. Just walking through the doorway was giving Saul a firm yet professional squeeze on the balls.
“Come with me, ladies.” Saul and his companions make their way up the stairs like a crab attempting to walk forwards. Or more accurately, if a three-legged race was also a threesome. Somehow, three wasted losers together make just enough of a sober person to get up into Saul’s bedroom.
They girls collapse onto his bed while he digs around in the nightstand’s drawer. His left hand pops a xanax, dry, down his throat, and his right hand lets a pair of handcuffs dangle from his finger. Stolen from the pocket of one of the court police officer’s- actually not his only pair, it was something of a compulsive need of his to collect them.
“Are you ready for your assignment?”
The girls giggle and blush. He molts out of his clothes and crawls across the mattress.
“Alright, here’s what I got for you.” He holds the cuffs up and lets whoever wants them take them. He rolls onto his back, putting his wrists where he wants them. “You two have your way with me, however you want, however long you want. And when you’re satisfied, why don’t you take my car for a spin, pick up some friends or clients or whatever, have a ball. Just don’t forget to come uncuff me whenever you’ve had your fun.”
If this request sounds strange to either of them, it doesn’t stop the cuffs from tightening around his wrists. And there’s the blood rushing from his brain down to his second brain. The woman behind him reaches down to squeeze his dick and a long high pitched keen sounds from his throat.
He wishes he had a tape of every time he's done this. He'd mail it to Kim and then she'd finally stop feeling guilty about what happened once she realizes he's just a mutt who doesn't deserve such frivolous considerations like informed consent. It would pop her right out of her funk and she'd be a lawyer again, mistress of her own firm, with him tucked under his desk eating her out however much she pleased.
A cold and ruthless finger slips inside him while the woman at his front caresses his cheeks and guides his tongue to her clit. The woman fingering him has too-sharp nails and less experience than Lalo, but he likes how it hurts. None of this should be about his pleasure, after all.
Once they really start going at him, his mind can drift. A few familiar pieces of debris float beside him, ready to be grabbed onto. It’s always the three of them back in Kim’s old apartment. Lalo and Kim fighting over him. Him riding Lalo while Kim degrades him for being such a cheap and easy whore. Him helplessly rutting into Kim while Lalo goes at his backside with a belt. Kim holding his head to Lalo’s crotch, Lalo holding his head to Kim’s crotch.
From there they get more extravagant, and violent. Lalo putting a bullet in his leg so he can't run away. The warm barrel on the back of his neck as he eats Kim out. His forehead to the wall as Kim swings her belt over and over again. Lalo sticking his fingers into Jimmy's wounds and Kim lapping up the blood. Lalo cutting off Jimmy's dick and fucking him with it-
That last lovely little thought came to Saul in a drug fuelled haze, making him projectile vomit on a carpet that is no longer with this world. It would later fuel what he wishes he could call one of his more shameful jack off sessions, though it wouldn’t even come close.
His working women are really going at it now. Acrylic nails dig into his hips as he strap bruises his insides and he pants into the other's cunt. He wishes one of them had a few words for him, like that one woman who knew exactly how to hold him down and pet his head. He needs to get that woman in the same room as the man with the spikey belt.
His cock bobs uselessly between them, red and weeping. God, God, he needs nothing more than for Lalo and Kim to toss him into the trunk while they laugh and drink in the front. Keeping him as a dog in nothing but a collar. Walking him around on a leash and putting him in a kennel whenever they aren’t fucking him. Training him until he can’t make a sound but the occasional pitiful bark.
Saul cums. It's not pleasurable, but it is release, like a sob that lets loose all the waterworks. Which also happens, fat tears dripping into the sheets.
The two prostitutes wander out. Distantly Saul is aware of the sound of his car’s door slamming shut, and those wheels grinding against the pavement. Those two will forget they left him laying there until well in the morning, when they’ll return to drop off his keys and find an extra key tucked in the limited folds of their outfits. They can take their sweet time, for while Saul is left by himself, his mind is nothing but static.