Page 6 of Deadly Aloha
Aftermath and Red tried to keep the shock off of their faces at seeing Yooko, but neither of them succeeded. The man made Aftermath look like a toddler. At seven-two, he probably weighed somewhere around four hundred and fifty pounds. And he wasn’t Hawai‘ian. His parents had immigrated from Mexico when he was a child, so he didn’t have an overly strong accent, but his heritage was still obvious when he spoke.
Yooko and Tangaloa were business partners in that Tangaloa used Yooko’s trucks to move his product and Yooko used Tangaloa’s men when he hosted certain events. He’d even rented my camera equipment a time or two when he wanted to film the festivities.
Yooko might make a pretty penny renting trucks, but hisrealbusiness was sex. Whereas my business was making videos for others’ entertainment, Yooko’s was so people couldhavesex. His trucks were a brothel on wheels, and then he made fake rental agreements to launder the money. It really was ingenious.
His one hard and fast rule was no kids. I supported that wholeheartedly. I was the same way. If a seventeen year and eleven month old came knocking on my door, she’d have to wait the month. I didn’t care that the age of consent in Hawai‘i was sixteen, there were no exceptions.
Yooko’s flesh trade was completely consensual, and he had both men and women workers of varying sexualities. He’d actually rescued a number of his workers from the streets, gave them three meals a day, access to healthcare, and provided them with a roof over their heads. He was good people, who looked after his workers. And he didn’t judge. Some people just liked sex with strangers, and he provided a safe way to do it. We differed in that I generally didn’t allow strangers into my business, which was always filmed. Yooko’s was all about discretion.
People could book my services, like the eighteen-year-old I didn’t get a chance to finish fucking yesterday. There were waivers, forms, and payment. As far as the IRS was concerned, she was paying for horseback riding lessons, but that was just a detail on an invoice. She also got an unedited copy of the shoot, or she would have if I hadn’t left my phone’s ringer on.
The main question I had for Yooko was if the Bloody Scorpions knew about his side business or if they literally rented trucks from him. As far as competitive prices were concerned, Yooko’s were fairly cheap.
“Strangers or friends?” Yooko asked, spotting that we weren’t alone.
“Friends,” I answered. I didn’t need Yooko to hold anything back. “We need some information about some trucks you rented.”
Yooko raised a bushy eyebrow. “You’d have to be more specific,mi amigo.”
Tangaloa handed over the carbon copy of the rental agreement. “Are you familiar with the Bloody Scorpions?”
“Can’t say I am.” Yooko pulled a pair of glasses out of the front pocket of his printed Hawai‘ian shirt. He loved wearing bright shirts and traditional wrap skirts around his legs. I suspected he went commando underneath from his occasional comment about ‘the cool breeze’ feeling good down there. I might despise shirts, but the one thing I’ll never be caught without is underwear.
I tossed my hat on the counter, leaning my elbow up against it as Yooko looked over the agreement.
“I remember this one. Kemi took care of it.” One or two of his workers covered the counter for him at times. “He forgot to charge them sales tax, and I scolded him, poor boy.”
Aftermath and Red might not understand the double meaning behind that statement, but Tangaloa and I did. That scolding likely involved a paddle and a blowjob from Kemi as penitence. Yooko had a thing for twinks.
“But you didn’t see the customers yourself?” Tangaloa verified.
Yooko shook his head. “No, not personally. But Kemi is working today. What is it you need from them?”
Aftermath made to speak, but I cut him off with a look. Yooko might be speaking freely in front of two men I’d claimed as friends, but that didn’t mean he was going to speak to them himself. Though Aftermath’s look turned dark, he clamped his mouth closed.
Tangaloa answered. “We believe the men who rented the trucks are with the Bloody Scorpions Motorcycle Club. If so, they’re the sort we don’t want on our island.”
Yooko nodded, understanding. “I’m not sure what Kemi can tell you, but let’s go ask.” He went to step behind the counter again, but then paused. He looked straight at Red and Aftermath. “You can look but don’t touch.”
His voice was anything but friendly. Yooko was extremely protective of his people. I might have said that Red and Aftermath were friends, but they were still strangers, and since neither Tangaloa nor I had explained Yooko’s side business to them, they seemed understandably confused by the stern directive.
We followed Yooko through the backroom that was set up like an employee break area, down the hall, and out the back door.
Eight trucks were lined up in a semi-circle facing away from us. A concrete slab that had once been a kids’ basketball court now parked a variety of mopeds, cars, bicycles, and in one case, aSegway. The engines of all the trucks were running, which meant we likely caught them just before they were to head out.
Each truck would have whatever sex worker or workers and a security person in the back, along with the driver. The clients chose whichever truck they wanted to go into based on their preferences. Personally, I wasn’t that into fucking in the back of a hot truck for a few hours, but Yooko seemed to have found a niche that worked, because his trucks were rarely less than full. At night, the trucks became stationary, and even more people showed up to partake.
I wasn’t positive, but I suspected that Tangaloa had come here during certain events. Not that I could blame him. He didn’t come on camera often, and never when he’d been married to my sister, but this was anonymous. Sex here was the guarantee of anorgasm with literally no attachments. He was just one amongst many, a faceless dick.
Yooko moved fast for a man of his size. Then again, with his massive feet and legs, one of his steps was three of ours. He aimed for the second to last truck on the left. When we rounded the back, I heard a noise from behind me, and knew Aftermath and Red had finally figured out that there was more to Yooko’s business than meets the eye.
A portable set of stairs led up to the raised bottom of the box truck.
“Oh, dear. Already strapped in, I see.” Yooko hummed for a second. “My apologies, gentlemen, lady, can I borrow your main attraction for just a couple of minutes? I promise, there will be no delay in your departure time.”
Yooko stepped back as one woman and several men descended the stairs. As they did, I got a good look inside. A bondage device was set up. It honestly looked like a raised guillotine, but with cuffs instead of a blade. Kemi—at least I assumed him to be, I could only see the backs of his legs, cock, balls, and ass—was bound to the device on his back. His legs were raised up in a wide V with his hands strapped above his head to the top of the bench where he was laying down.
After the last client exited the truck, we ascended. Red’s face was so flaming hot that he practically glowed in the low lighting of the back of the truck.
