Shetani's Sister Read Online Free Page A

in pain.
    He said brutally, “Miss me? You negative motherfucking bitch, how can you miss me when you know I’m always with you, awake or asleep, tricking or crapping? You know the power of my spirit will always be beside you, watching you, guarding you. Miss me? Petra, don’t ever again hurt and insult your sweet master like that.”
    She said softly, “Forgive me. You know I’m your slave until I cash in. Master, I meant I’ll miss your arms and your delicious candy dick. I wish I had a supply of your nectar in a jar so I couldn’t starve for it while I’m taking care of all that business in L.A.”
    He finger-stroked her face. “Petra, your L.A. business is not that complicated. You scout Hollywood and the rest of L.A. for the chance that our family can get down there and make lots of bread. Off your reports, I’ll decide to move or stay here. But I hope you find Hollywood fine and dandy. If so, I’ll wire you the bread to lease a monster house. Shit, we all deserve to live and hustle in the sunshine for a change, like rich suckers, in a fucking mansion in the hills.”
    They laughed. Petra whispered in his ear, “Sweet Master, can I have some bye-bye candy?” He bit her earlobe and sucked scarlet skin berries on her throat.
    “Sic your candy, you one-track-minded freak-dog bitch,” he commanded as she unzipped his fly and his wombstroker leapt free in the blue haze.
    As she performed state-of-the-art fellatio, he tattooed crimson stripes on her alabaster ass with a coat-hanger whip. He leaned to feather-stroke her clit. Shortly she made a shrill sound through her teeth. They both climaxed, and then Petra stood. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom, to present the surprise. She paused at the bedroom door to whisper, “Master, I stole her around nine in that coffee shop with the pink front in Times Square. She’s seventeen, obviously gorgeous, and fast! She’s holding five bills. I told her to personally give you her first money.”
    She opened the door, and they stepped inside the gold-and-white lair. They stood at bedside, looking down at the cream-colored sexpot. She was nude and supine in the junkie limbo between heavy intoxication and sleep. Green fire flared from her slitted eyes.
    Shetani, a fanatical reincarnation buff, barely suppressed a gasp. He trembled and sat down on the bed beside his new slave. He leaned to scan every plane of the girl’s face. His whole body vibrated with excitement and joy. He was certain the girl was his dead baby sister, returned to life. She was Tuta Spires!
    Anxiety jolted him. He had to find a way to get her off the street without blowing his career and rep as king of pimps. Awful rage twisted his face for an instant. He vowed to himself that he would find the man or woman who had turned her out in her second life and kill the guilty one.
    He felt the girl’s pulse. Petra said softly, “Master, she’s all right. The Harlem jive ass that turned her out in the street and on stuff was copping three-percent garbage. I gave her a very light hit of stuff when we got home.”
    Shetani scowled. “What his name?”
    The tone of his voice caused Petra to give him a look. “Ronald somebody. He’s just a piece-of-shit horn blower from Pittsburgh. We saw him on our way home, looking for her in the Square.”
    He flashed his black-leopard grin. “I’ll find him to hip him that his girl has chosen me…and maybe he’s got a few of her things she wants to cop. Introduce us.”
    Petra covered the girl with a robe. She said, “She has eyes like yours.” She gently shook the girl’s shoulder. Her radiant green eyes fully opened to gaze into the hypnotic eyes of Shetani.
    Petra said, “Master Shetani, meet Maxine.”
    The girl smiled and extended her hand. “It’s really neat to meet you, Master Shetani. You’re famous!” she said in a sweet voice, coarsened by the China white.
    Maxine’s hand hung in air for a long moment in the tense silence, before she