Back at the Watering Hole, Striker had just finished the last bite of his steak while listening to Maybelle's song. She was no succubus, but she had quite the amazing voice that could attract anyone in her range, maybe even better than Verosika Mayday, Hell's most famous and well-known pop star. But not even she could compete with someone like Verosika.
As he ate and had a few drinks, drinking some water in between his shots of cactuquila, he told Buford, Bertha, and some of the other patrons at the bar about his adventures. He worked as a hitman for hire all across Hell, mostly in Wrath. Usually, he was hired to kill stalkers for scared women or people who those stalkers wouldn't leave alone; livestock rustlers and even leaving their bodies either hanged or mutilated as a warning to stay away from the ranchers and farmers; and sometimes politicians who would get in the way of their rivals and make them look like an accident, but that was only once in a blue moon.
His latest victim to kill was the leader of a gang of hell-sheep rustlers, after being hired by a rancher after his flocks have been constantly stolen and sold to other farms and ranches and he was close to losing his ranch. Striker tracked them down and murdered the rustlers making camp miles from the ranch with their stolen flock, killing them one by one in the middle of the night as they either slept or stood guard, until only the leader was left. He managed to kill the leader, despite sustaining a few stab wounds to the sides and back, and along with the flock he returned to the rancher who hired him, he also dragged the dead bodies of the rustlers behind him as he rode Bombproof as proof the deed had been completed.
The patrons, especially Buford and Bertha, were all amazed at his deed, and how he managed to pull something like this on his own. It was a dog-eat-dog world here in Hell, and not everyone cared if blood was shed here in Wrath. In fact, being born and raised in Wrath, Striker knew how to fight and kill to survive in this dark and cruel world.
Maybelle, who had finished her latest performance, decided to take five and have a quick drink while the pianist played a good tune on the piano. She took a seat next to Striker, and she said with a grin, "So, you gonna be here for a while, Striker?
Striker shrugged, "Depends. Probably gonna crash here for a bit before headin' back out to another town."
"Why don't y'all stay here at the lodge above the saloon? We've got plenty of vacant rooms." Bertha smiled.
"Or you could share a room with me?" Maybelle smirked, running a finger over his horn. Striker just chuckled at her offer. She was only 19 years old, having started her singing job at the saloon when she was only 15; Striker was only 25, and he wasn't her type nor did he have any romantic interest in her, but he did hope she'll find a good man someday since she'd make any man's day great with her personality and charm.
Striker nudged Maybelle gently away from him, then he looked at Maybelle and said to her, "I'd love to, but I've already set up a room for myself in a nearby motel just about ten minutes from here."
Buford said to him in disapproval, "Son, a guy like you shouldn't be hangin' out in shitholes like a motel. A guy of your expertise deserves a good place to stay. After travellin' so much, you should have a good comfy bed to sleep in and a good clean bathroom to get yourself rid of all that dirt and sweat..."
Striker knew Buford's ramblings would probably never end. While he wasn't the kind of guy who loved to talk so much, he did go on about certain things. But at the same time, he was still a good listener when it came to his patrons at the bar. Wanting to avoid his non-stop rambling before it could happen, Striker spoke up, "Alright, Y'all got me! I'll just grab my stuff I left in my room and tell the motel owner I'm stayin' someplace else."
"Oh, and while you're at it, honey," Bertha said to him. "Could y'all drop this off at the front desk when you get there? Apparently, one of the tenants left it here last night after he got so drunk and forgot about it." She held up a leather jacket before handing it to him.
"Sure, Bertha." Striker said, taking the jacket from her. "Oh, and thanks for the meal. You still haven't lost your amazing cookin' skills."
After paying for his meal and the drinks he had, stabbing the soul dollars with a nearby steak knife to keep them from being stolen, or just to show off his macho side to the other patrons, Striker walked out the door, telling the owners he'll be right back. He went over to Bombproof, who was still standing where Striker left him, and he undid his reins from the beam and they rode off to the motel. Although Striker didn't have much on him, he still carried a bunch of weapons like a rifle, extra pistols in case one of his got destroyed or damaged, cases of bullets, a bunch of knives, and a few other valuables.
When he reached the motel, he left the jacket on the front counter, but the owner wasn't there. He did hear a bunch of moaning and crashing coming from the back room, followed by cries of arousal from a man and moans of delight from a woman. Striker only shook his head in disgust; the owner must've hooked up with a random chick and is doing something else rather than his job.
After that job was done, he went to the top floor, where his room was. It was just going to be a little bit of packing and then he was out of here. But on his way to his room, he noticed one of the doors had been open a crack. Either some idiot left it open by mistake, or the air conditioner of that room was broken, Striker wondered.
But curiosity was getting the better of him, and he went into the room to see if either was true. Much to his surprise, the room was perfectly fine, and the air conditioner was still working perfectly. But who could have left this door open?
He got his answer when he heard the bathroom door open, and there stood a female imp in a bathrobe. Striker recognized her as the imp from earlier, but what was she doing here?
Maya was putting on the finishing touches of her outfit Victor gave to her. It didn't seem like much of an outfit to her; all it was was a pair of panties and fishnet stockings with the hooks to connect them. But there was no bra to go with it. Typical, cover the bottom part of yourself while the client drools all over your top half!
To make this a bit more appealing for her client, she thought of adding a little eyeshadow and mascara to add to her sexiness, and after doing a little bit of experimenting, she had parts of her hair covering her bare breasts just to add a little appeal. Now that she thought she was ready, she got on her bathrobe and went out of the bathroom to wait for the client to arrive.
But once she went back into the room, she saw someone already there.
Maya thought to herself, 'It's him, the imp from earlier. But what's he doing here? Unless he's my client, but he wasn't supposed to be here for another fifteen minutes. Oh, well, might as well get this over with. He probably expects a little thank you from me anyway after what he did for me earlier.'
She began untying the knot on her robe, saying seductively, "A little early, huh? I hope you're ready for me, darling." After untying the knot, she let the robe drop down to her feet, revealing her half naked body to the imp.
Striker wasn't sure what he was seeing when he saw Maya standing in front of him. He didn't know her name, but he never expected to see her again. What caught him by surprise was her untying her robe and speaking to him in a seductive voice.
"A little early, huh? I hope you're ready for me, darling
The next thing he knew, Maya was standing there, wearing nothing but panties and fishnet stockings, her silver hair covering her breasts.
He wasn't sure how to react; he wanted to say something, but her looks and the way she moved towards him was making him frozen in a trance, almost as if she caught him in a spell. Seeing her naked body was making him blush like mad, making his bright pink skin look darker in the face.
"You like what you see?" Maya said to him, suddenly in front of him.
He couldn't say a word. Usually he'd be indifferent to women, but this time, there was something about this imp that made him think otherwise. Her spots, the way her eyes looked at him, her beautifully shaped physical form, and her silvery grey hair. He suddenly felt her hands over his chest, her fingers moving into the grooves of his abs.
"Mmm, you have a nicely chiseled body underneath that shirt." He heard Maya say. He wanted to push her away, but he couldn't move. He could only feel her fingers trailing down lower towards his pants, beads of sweat from nervousness forming on his head. He was usually calm and collected in this kind of situation, but not this time. The sound of his zipper going down was what made him snap out of his trance a little, and he looked down to see her on her knees.
She looked up at him, her fingers about to move into the fly of the pants, and she said with a seductive grin, licking her lips, "Shall I get you started? How do you want it? You want your dick hard as a rock inside me by the time I'm done, or slow and steady for the fun of it?"
"GET AWAY FROM ME! I DON'T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU!"
Striker's sudden outburst made her jump a little, especially after he shoved her away from him and covered the front of his pants. Maya was surprised at his sudden reaction, a client refusing her services even when she's trying.
"What's your deal?!" she snapped at him. "This is what you want, isn't it? A little reward for your actions earlier, isn't that why you're here for me? Maybe if you'd just say something to me earlier, I could've gotten our little meet-up over with and be ready for the next one. Or was I not doing a good job to get you hard?!" Suddenly, remembering his reaction when he saw her, and instead of acting all horny with her like those other men she satisfied, he didn't try to say anything or tell her to do this or do that. The pieces started coming together for her, and her face was redder than her skin.
"Oh, shit! You're not my client, are you?" she asked him, not changing her expression of shock. Before Striker could answer her, she hid her face in her hands and cursed to herself. She could only think to herself, 'Fuck! I can't believe this, I thought he was the client and I was trying to seduce him! He's probably gonna call me a whore just like everyone else.'
Seeing the female imp so embarrassed at her mistake made Striker feel a little pity for her. Even though she was just about to service him without warning, he knew she might have made a big mistake. Even he knew all about mistakes of his own, but he was just as embarrassed as she was.
Seeing a spare blanket in the closet near him, he grabbed it from the shelf and covered Maya with the blanket.
The feeling of the blanket on her shoulders and covering her half-naked body made Maya snap out of her thoughts and she looked at Striker next to her. He said to her, "You might wanna cover yourself up..." He was trying to hide his embarrassment the way he spoke with her.
After that, he darted for the door and to his room, slamming the door in a hurry.
Maya wondered what was with this imp. First he holds off two assholes wanting sloppy seconds from her after her services were interrupted at the local saloon earlier, which was the two imps' idea in the first place since she suggested a more private place than the saloon's back room; and now this same imp covered her up, right after she tried to seduce him thinking he was a client who wanted a little thank-you sex from her.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her robe from the floor, the blanket still covering her, and went towards the bathroom. Thinking about that imp made her wonder how much of an enigma he was to her after those two times she saw him.
Helluva Boss belongs to Vivienne Medrano aka Vivziepop, and Maya belongs to me. Kind reviews are all I ask.