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A Detective Story

By: IronDragon



Foreword:

This tale has been floating around in my head for a while. A different take on the old pulp fiction detective novels that I read when I was a kid. I hope everyone enjoys the ride. :)

I.D.

------------------------------------------

I could tell as soon as Dani showed her in that this dame was trouble. No, not that she was trouble, but that she was bringing me a world of trouble that wasn't of her doing. Just a feeling I had as I looked up and saw her in the door.

"Hello, Mr. Carter?" She asked nervously. I could tell she was married, as most of my clients were.

"Nick Carter, ma'am." I nodded. No, not like that punk kid singer, but I sometimes get mail for him. One of the hazards of being a P.I. with a famous name that lives in L.A. My dad actually named me after a secret agent in a set of dime store spy novels by Jove Publishing. We had the last name already, but my dad just named me Nick. Not Nicholas. Nick. Go fuckin' figure.

I rose as I spoke and shook her hand. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Your assistant said that you could help me. I was referred by one of your previous clients." She smiled a bit more, still nervous, though.

"I see. Ok, Mrs...."

"I'm Janine Linder. My husband is Dennis Linder, and he's a psychologist. I have reason to believe he's cheating on me, and I want proof before I file for Divorce." She said, handing me a picture of him. I raised my eyebrow as I regarded the picture. He looked to be about 40, with a square jaw and dark hair going gray at the temples. He had bright green eyes that would probably tempt most women.

"Ok, ma'am. You know how this works?" I asked, and she nodded. "Good. Give me two weeks tops, and I'll have the evidence you need. For those two weeks, I charge $5000 dollars. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Yes, and half up front, correct?" She asked.

"Do you have your own account that your husband doesn't know of, or have access to, in order to check your finances?" I asked.

"Yes." She said. "I set it up a couple months ago so he wouldn't know if I hired someone to track him. Your former client says that you are the best." She smiled, then handed me a cashier's check for $2500.

"Thank you, ma'am. Give me an idea of how he's been acting suspicious, if you would? The more information I get now, the easier it will be to track his movements."

"Well, it's a bit strange that I even caught on that he was cheating. He spends every night with me, and the weekends too. But sometimes when I call his office for a lunch date, his phone is turned off." She said.

"Well, he could have a client run over during a session." I shrugged.

"Normally, you would be right. But then there's the distance at home. He used to be all over me, but now he hardly touches me. Then I noticed the perfume smell on his clothes. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but it wasn't my brand of perfume." She said.

"Some of his clients could have hugged him, and how old is he?" I asked.

"He's 44." She said, and I nodded.

"Well, I heard that men that age have lower sex drives than they did before hitting 40. Could that be the reason for his distance emotionally?"

"You sound like you think it's just me being stupid!" She said angrily.

"No, ma'am. I am just trying to figure out why you would think he's cheating. I admit, the perfume is a pretty heavy indicator, but it could just be circumstantial. I'm going to take this case, but I also need to know everything you can think of. How is he acting suspicious besides turning his phone off?"

"Well, it's always just before lunch on Mondays and Wednesdays. Other times, he answers right away. But on those days, it goes straight to his voicemail."

"Ok, I think I get the picture. Tomorrow is Wednesday, so I'll start my investigation then. I will be in touch as soon as I have anything concrete for you." I nodded and rose from my chair as she did, and shook her hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Carter. I hope it's nothing, to be honest. But I need peace of mind on this." She smiled warmly. She really was a knockout, and if I hadn't been married, I would maybe consider consoling her.

"Anytime, Mrs. Linder. If I don't find anything at the end of two weeks, you will not have to pay me the remainder of my fee." I told her. It's my guarantee.

"Thank you again, Mr. Carter." She said.

"Ma'am, call me Nick. Mr. Carter was my dad." I smiled, and she smiled back.

"Ok, Nick. I'm Janine. Ma'am is too formal."

"Ok, Janine. I'll be in touch as soon as I have anything for you. Dani, my assistant, should have your information, so I'll get your number from her." I showed her out, and promised again to be in touch.

As soon as Janine had left, Dani came in and plopped down on the overstuffed chair in front of my desk.

Daniela Velasquez has been my assistant for 6 years. I would honestly be lost without her, and I think she knows it. She's single, dates some, but not often, and has the most gorgeous jet black hair, doe brown eyes, and a great tan that comes from her Mexican heritage. She's built like J-Lo, but with more junk in the trunk and WAY more of a rack. Yeah, if I wasn't married to the woman of my dreams, Dani would be in trouble! I might be married, but I'm not dead, and I never touch. Well, except for hugs when Dani presses her D-Cups against my chest.

"Ok, jefe. This is what I got for you right now." She handed me the file she'd put together online about our target. Dani is a pretty good P.I. in her own right, and I was proud to be the one who taught her. She's a quick study, that's for sure.

Dennis Linder, Psychologist Extraordinaire. I looked at the file, and a warning bell went off in my head. It seemed that a former patient had filed a malpractice claim against him a couple years back, but the claim had been dropped mysteriously, with some stock cliché answer given as to why. This was getting more and more interesting. The former patient was female, and her husband had divorced her soon after the malpractice claim had been dropped. That was the warning bell. I had a bad feeling about Dr. David Linder, and my gut is usually right.

"Dani, dig a bit deeper on this asshole, will ya? I got a bad feeling about him." I said, and Dani giggled at my phraseology. "Ha ha. Yeah, I know. I opened the door for that one, and thanks for not stepping through it."

"Anytime, boss man." She winked at me prettily, then stepped back out to her desk to do some more Bing searches on Dr. Dickhead.

Daniela is worth twice her weight in gold, and I know that I don't pay her enough, even though I pay her VERY well. We're more partners than boss and assistant. We split each case take 60/40, including retainer fees. Those retainer fees, when added up between multiple clients, equal over 200K a year. After expenses, I usually clear 150K and Dani clears 110K easily. And that's after taxes. We share a lawyer, who gives us legal help quid pro quo since we kind of work for him too. Wesley Quentin is his name, and divorce disputes and other domestic issues are his game.

Then there's my wife Samantha. Yes, Samantha Carter, formerly Samantha Stern. So no relation to Colonel Carter on Stargate SG-1. She goes by Sammie for short.

I met Sammie 7 years ago when I had quit the... Company I was working for in Langley, Virginia, and moved back to L.A. I was an... insurance investigator for that Company. It was a decent living, but after a... client in Paris turned out to be a real asshole, I decided I'd had enough and put my investigative skills to good use back home. I had enough saved up to start my own P.I. business. There, now nothing can be redacted.

Sammie is a complete knockout. Tall at 5'8", which puts her even with me in height when she wears her 4" fuck-me heels. Fiery red hair, sparkling blue eyes, 34C-24-36 measurements and legs that go all the way up to Heaven. Her Angelina Jolie lips and sexy smile can melt the hearts and raise the erections of any man within 50 feet, and she has it ALL packed in the right places.

I first met Sammie back when I had solved my first case for my first client. He threw a bash to celebrate me finding and returning his property. I was his guest of honor, and Sammie was the daughter of one of his friends. She saw me, and I saw her, and it was as if the magnetic force of the Earth drew us together. We talked and danced, and talked some more. I met her father, who is a good man, and he bought my usual line about being a former Insurance Investigator that decided to go into the private sector as a P.I. I had prospects, and during the shindig, I managed to score some more clients. That was seven years ago, and after dating for six months and living together for six months, we were married in a small ceremony with just her family and a few of our friends. 

My parents had died a few years back in a car wreck when I was out of the country, and had left me their paid off house in their will.

Me? I spent three years in the Army as an MI Interrogator, then got recruited by the aforementioned Company to... investigate possible insurance fraud. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. Anyway, I became a damn good investigator, and realized I could make some damn good money at it as a P.I. So I bid the Company adieu, and headed back home to L.A. Getting a Concealed Carry License was like pulling teeth, but it was worth it to carry my Dad's old Colt M1911A1 pistol. The big .45 ACP ammo pretty much guaranteed a kill if fired with accuracy. That was one thing I've always been good at. Shooting.

So I went out to where Dani was picking out bits and pieces of Dennis Linder's life and printing them out for me.

"Hey, Dani. Go ahead and knock off for the day when you're done with the searches. I'm heading home." I smiled at her.

"No problem, jefe." She smiled back at me with more than professional respect. "You know, I hope Sammie knows what she got at home."

"I think she does, sweety. You know, you're gonna make some guy really happy someday, if you ever settle down." I winked at her, flirting a bit.

"Nah, papi. I missed my chance by a few months." She shrugged. I opened my mouth to ask her about that, but she had already turned back to her computer monitor.

"Ok, sweety. Go ahead and get the info, folder it, and I'll be in first thing to pick it up. Goodnight." I said as I headed towards the door.

"G'night, Boss Man." She called out as I left the office.

I got in my car and headed home. Somewhere along the way, I started thinking about Sammie and how she'd been acting lately. Over the past couple months, she'd been kind of distant, as if she had something on her mind and wanted to tell me. But it always seemed as if something was holding her back. I resolved that when I got home, I was going to ask her about it until she told me. I would be an idiot to not see the writing on the wall. I'd seen it enough over the years. The story was always the same. Wife/Hubby was ALWAYS emotionally distant either just before or just after starting an affair. Thus far, she'd kept telling me "Nothing" whenever I asked her what was wrong or if she wanted to talk to me about something.

Why women do the whole "Nothing" routine, I'll never know. I know a few who don't, but most of them seem to think us guys get paid enough to read minds. Sorry, ladies. We're not psychic. Sometimes you have to spell it out for us.

It was with those thoughts in mind that I pulled onto our street and noticed the Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo parked out in front of my house. As I was pulling into our driveway, my cell rang.

"Hey, baby." I said when I saw my wife's name on the caller ID.

"Hey, Nick. When are you going to be home? We have something to discuss with you." She said. Her voice sounded weird.

"What do you mean, baby? Who's the 'we' you're talking about?" I had my suspicions that the 'we' included whoever drove that Jeep.

"Just come home as soon as possible. Ok?"

"Ok, baby. I love you." I said.

"Ok, bye." Now the alarm bells in my head had turned into a full blown klaxon horn. I made sure my pocket recorder was in my pocket and ready to go, and my cellphone had picture capability. I readied my camera function, just in case.

I had no idea what had gotten into Sammie. She NEVER failed to tell me she loved me, even lately. Now this? I was breathing deeply, doing some breathing exercises to calm myself. Once I had the zen vibe going, I got out and took a snapshot of the license plate on the Jeep. I had a REALL bad feeling about this one. My gut was screaming at me, and I have always listened to my gut.

As soon as I got in the door, I saw them kissing. They had no idea that I was that close, and I managed to get a snapshot of them together with their lips locked. I walked in, calm as can be, snapping happily away until they noticed me. I hit the RECORD button on my pocket recorder in, where else, my pocket.

"Oh my God!" Sammie said. "You scared me, Nick!"

"Care to explain why you're kissing some asshole in my house, soon-to-be-ex-wifey?" I asked, eyebrow raised as I shut my phone.

"It's part of the reason why I wanted you to come home, Nick." She said. I looked at the asshole for the first time, and I suddenly had the urge to pull my weapon and put a hole through his head big enough to drive a Mack Truck through! Dennis Linder, my current target, was standing in my living room and towering over me.

Ok, this was a sticky situation. My client's asshole husband was now standing in MY house and apparently has been fucking MY wife. Right then, I wanted nothing more than to shoot him dead, and her too for that matter. My heart was breaking, but my anger kept the hurt at bay for the moment. However, if I was going to get paid, I had to play this cool. Vengeance would come later. Payback is a bitch and a half, and these two were going to feel every bit of it.

"Ok, what is it you want to talk about?" I asked, with much more calm than I actually felt.

"Mr. Carter, may I call you Nick?" Asshole asked.

"No. Only friends call me Nick. You're not a friend. You're the asshole who's fucking my wife. Therefore, but definition, we will never be friends. Got it?" I asked with a sneer.

"Yes. Well, I'm Dr. Dennis Linder, and I am treating your wife with sex therapy." He said, identifying himself.

"Ok, does sex therapy include kissing MY wife in MY home?" I asked, eyebrow raised once again.

"As a matter of fact, right now it does. I know this is highly irregular, and probably difficult to swallow. But you will need to watch us while we're doing it." He said. Dear God, this guy was dumber than a box of bowling balls! He was playing right into my hands, and solidifying not only my own Divorce proceeding, but making sure his wife gets everything... except for my Alienation of Affection and Malpractice lawsuits that I was already planning!

I just looked at him for a moment. "Dr. Dennis Linder, huh? I heard you're really good at what you do. Psychology, right?" I asked, buttering him up.

"Yes, psychology. My methods are sometimes controversial, but I always get results." He preened.

"So how long has my wife been going to you for... therapy?" I asked, biting back my own outburst that was straining and chomping at the bit to get out.

"Two months now." He confirmed. Sammie had said NOTHING about going to see a shrink. I looked at her, then.

"Sammie, if things were so bad, why didn't you just talk to me? I told you years ago when we were dating that if ANYTHING was wrong, you could come to me. Don't you remember that?" I asked, trying to get through to her.

"I... I guess." She said in a hesitant tone of voice. She had a confused expression on her face for a moment.

"Sammie, remember what we talked about." Dr. Dipshit said. "Control. You have to assert your control. I know you don't like being powerless, so you have to take the lead. Remember?" His voice was strange, almost hypnotic as he talked to her, and I saw her expression harden.

"You're right, Dennis. I need to show him that I'm not just some dumb woman to be pushed around!" She then glared at me.

"Sammie, what are you talking about?" I almost shouted. "When have I EVER pushed you into anything?"

"I... In the bedroom! We always make love how YOU want, never how I want!" She almost screamed at me.

"Ok, Sammie. You KNOW what we said after we were married. That if we wanted to try something new, just discuss it and see what happens. Remember that?" I asked. "All you had to do was ask, and we could at least talk about it!"

Once again, her expression turned to one of confusion. But before Dr. Dicknugget could say anything, her expression hardened again.

"Nick, I need to do this. I need to see what other cocks are out there for me. You can either watch, or don't watch. But I AM going to do this." She said firmly.

"Sammie, don't do this. Please!" I really wanted to say 'GIVE ME MORE EVIDENCE. PLEASE!' But I refrained. I would be getting WAY more evidence.

"I need to, Nick. This won't affect us. I still love you." She said with a hint of a smile. I knew she was lying to me then. "I just need something different, and just this once."

"Oh? Well, for the record, I do not want you to do this, and there will be consequences if you go through with it." I said, shaking my head in what I hoped to appear resignation that I would reluctantly accept it.

"Mr. Carter, please allow me to do my job. Now, do you have a chair in your bedroom?" He asked. He wanted to fuck MY wife on OUR marital bed. Note to self: Burn the bed and get a new one.

"We do, yes. Wait, do you REALLY want me in there?" I asked with a horrified look on my face.

"It is necessary, yes." Dr. Dumbfuck said.

"If you insist." I snarled. "Doctor, is there no other way to get my wife back to normal?"

"None, I'm afraid." He said with mock sincerity that wouldn't have fooled a kindergartener.

"Well, I hope you don't expect me to participate in adultery." I said pointedly.

"Mr. Carter, what your wife and I will be doing is hardly adultery. I am merely helping her to get past a mental block and assert herself better in your relationship. You will both be stronger after we're done." He gave me a smarmy smile when he said that, and once again it took an Olympian effort of will for me not to shove my pistol down his throat and empty the magazine into him.

"I am not agreeing to this, just so you know. I will never agree to an act of adultery performed by you and my wife, and this IS adultery, no matter how you slice it!" I said, noticing that he wasn't wearing a wedding ring, and with no sign of tan line on his finger.

"As I said, Mr. Carter. This is therapy. Granted, it's controversial therapy, but it is not adultery." His smile this time was condescending. Oooh, this was going to VERY fun after a bit of pain... well, not pain. My love for Sammie had died, and I was feeling numbness and a keen sense of righteous fury at what I was going to do to this Asshole after he finished fucking my soon-to-be ex-wife.

"I'm still not agreeing to it." I shook my head, even as I followed them to the master bedroom. I surreptitiously took out my iPhone and started the camera rolling as he undressed Sammie and had her lie on the bed. She spread her legs eagerly for him as he undressed too, and neither one of them looked my way as I sat in the chair to get plenty of footage.

"Last chance, you two." I said. "Don't do this. This is being done without my consent."

The doctor looked at me, with my iPhone sticking up out of my jacket pocket, but he didn't realize it was recording video. He sneered. "Like you have a choice in it, wimp!"

He then thrust forward into Sammie's cunt, and that was it. That was all I needed to see. It was all I needed to record. Janine's case was now airtight, and that was that. I stood up from the chair and walked calmly to where Dr. Needledick was laying into Samantha with relish and abandon.


A Detective Story



EDIT 3/15

1.

"Tell me what you found out," she said. 

All the sudden, guy looked like he was about to hurl. Great sign. "I'm not sure I can, anymore. I mean, I'm really not sure I should." 

"Jesus, Rick. Don't do this. You called me. Remember? This was your idea!"

"I know it was. Now I think it was a mistake. This is a bad situation. You shouldn't stick your nose into it. These people don't mess around."

"They already demonstrated that. Did somebody threaten you?" 

"They didn't have to. I just get more and more worried, the longer I think about it. I acted too hasty, when I called you. I should have kept my mouth shut. I don't wanna get you hurt. And they won't just hurt you." 

"Somebody has to shut them down. I can't let this go. Tell me who's responsible. I know that you know." 

"I do know, yeah. But I'm not gonna tell you. I've decided. Sorry to waste your time bringing you over here, but this is for your own good. I'm not giving you the name." 

"You fucking coward!" 

"Come on, Laura. You know how I feel about you. You know I respect you and the work you do. I've had a hopeless crush on that pretty face of yours since grade school. You're the smartest girl I know, and the stubbornest. But you're also just a college student, trying to solve this case all by yourself. We gotta be realistic. This isn't like a TV show. You don't have secret ninja skills or anything like that, do you? Didn't think so. This guy will fuck you up, if you cross him. Just like he fucked up the professor."

"I'm not letting him get away with it. Tell me his fucking name!" 

"I can't do it. I just can't."

"We'll see about that, Rick. You know how persistent I am. I'm not backing off. I'm gonna dig this out of you, whatever it takes." 

2.

God, he thought, she's nuts. But's she so damn hot when she looks all pissed off and determined like this. Drives me out of my mind. 

Her name was Laura Wolfe. She was a theatre major, and also worked for the college online news blog, though she kept that fact as quiet as possible. Wrote under another name, a guy's name. She had a knack for investigative work—she dug snooping around, to put it bluntly. In the last year and a half, she'd broken a few pretty darn impressive stories. Exposed corruption in the college administration and the athletic department, the fudging of grades to keep the football team's most vicious and valuable meatheads on the field through the season, as well as sweeping their various misbehaviors under the rug when they got themselves busted for driving drunk or beating up their girlfriends again and again every weekend (yes, the local police department had been complicit too, big surprise). Same crap that happens over and over at every big university, of course; somebody just has to keep on top of these people. At this particular school, at this particular time, that duty had fallen to her. And she'd got half a dozen rich old hypocritical assholes canned, thanks to her articles and all the evidence she'd quietly and carefully collected against them. 

A painfully skinny, shrimpy, kind of gawky-looking creature—but in a cute way. Braces and big clunky glasses and messy hair, dyed blue. Dressed a little loud and freaky like a lot of the theatre and art kids liked to do. That night she had on a shiny silver jacket, like something out an old space movie, over a raggedy red sweater dress and bumblebee leggings, thick black and yellow stripes all down her coltish legs, and a black pair of those chunky soft leathery slip-on boots with the white fuzz inside. What were they called, ooga boots or ugga boots or some silly shit like that. 

Almost as long as he'd known her, whenever he saw this girl, Rick had wanted to pick her up off her feet and spin around with her and cuddle her against his chest like a kitten. Knowing she'd completely hate it and scream and fuss and kick her feet in the air the whole time, trying to wriggle loose—well, just like most kittens tended to do. Now that they were both in college, the fantasy had evolved quite a bit. He would like to do a number of other things with her, after that first part ... 

They'd met tonight in the dinky third floor bathroom of his frat house. Actually it was only a half-bath, only a toilet and a sink. Always thought it was pretty dumb calling a bathroom a bathroom, when there wasn't any bath in it—not even half of one. The ceiling was slanted; you had to be careful not to crack your head on it. Some douche had drawn a big spurting cock on the mirror with toothpaste or something. It was embarrassing, why did they all have to act like such frats boys all the time, just 'cause they lived in a frat house? He shouldn't have brought her up in here. Except it was safer here than his bedroom. Most people—even half the guys who lived here—didn't even know this room existed. 

Smelled like wet socks too. At least it was wet socks instead of anything worse. This toilet didn't work any good. Clogged up whenever some fool used it except for just peeing. There was even a sign taped on the door about it. Some drunk retard would go right ahead and poop in here anyway at least once a month. 

Laura was investigating the disappearance of her favorite teacher. Professor Cheller. A math teacher, and actually a mean icy bitch—but she'd been pretty smoking hot, too, no denying it. Rick had flunked out of her class twice. She acted like an evil alien or a robot, sneering down her nose at what pathetic and miserable specimens of humanity most of her students turned out to be. Like she could barely hold back from disintegrating everyone hunched and trembling at their desks with merciless laser beams from her eyes ... but that would give away her true nature and spoil her research mission. Yeah, that whole routine had really turned him on. Almost made sitting through her lectures worthwhile three mornings a week. Almost. 

She'd been hospitalized after a severe car crash. Then disappeared from her bed over the night, though nobody had seen her regain consciousness. Nobody knew if she'd got up and walked out, or been taken.

Well, actually a few people did know which it was. And Rick, unfortunately for him, happened to be one of those now. Sort of stumbled upon the truth without meaning to. Overheard a conversation he wasn't supposed to. 

She kept right on pressuring him. "Just tell me what you heard, Rick. How's anybody gonna know it was you that told me, huh?"

"Are you kidding? Tons of people could have noticed us going upstairs together. I didn't know there was gonna be another stupid huge party tonight when I invited you."

"God, Rick. You're an ass. There's a stupid huge party here every single night of the week! That shit never stops!"

"Not every night. Not every single night. Last night it was quiet. Well, mostly. Until ten it was dead, 'til those girls came over again from next door. Nobody asked them to; the crazy bitches just showed up. And then—"

"It doesn't matter, Rick. I don't care about that shit. I'm sure nobody took any notice of us. Even if somebody did, so what? Everybody knows we're friends, right? Everybody knows you've got a thing for me, despite the fact you're dating that psycho Krissy."

"Hey, don't talk mean about her. That's not cool." 

"People will just assume you were trying to get into my pants. Worst case, they'll think I actually broke down and let you. But nobody will connect this meeting with my investigation. Your frat brothers aren't that bright, Rick."

"It's not my frat brothers I'm worried about it. It's this other guy. And he's a sharp customer. He puts things together. You go after him like you're planning on—if I point you in the right direction—this fucker will trace it back to me. I don't know how, but I know eventually he will. He's just as tenacious as you are."

"Can't wait to meet him. Or do I know him already? I bet I probably do. This isn't that big a school."

"God, will you please listen to me? You can't joke around about this—this is no joke."

"I wasn't joking, Rick. I'm dead fucking serious about this whole business. Look at my face."

"There's all kinds of freaky shit goes on at this school. Seriously messed up crap."

"I'm well aware of what goes on."

"No you aren't! Not like this! This guy's racket is on another level. Much much darker, believe me."

"Professor Cheller found out about it, right? What else could have happened? This is the simplest explanation—she found out about this spooky racket, whatever the fuck it is, and she was gonna tell somebody. Right? So she had to be taken care of."

"Well, yeah. Exactly. That's what they said." 

"Tell me straight, is she dead? Did this guy fucking kill her and dump her somewhere?"

He shook his head. "Way worse than that. I don't know the details. Don't ask me. But from the little I caught, it sounded way, way worse. And the same shit will happen to you, unless you back off from this. You're not fucking Batgirl or Wonder Woman! You can't take this guy down! He's too scary!" 

"Just tell me his name. Please, Rick. Pretty please? What do you want me to do? What's it gonna take?"

"Nothing you could offer me is gonna make me change my mind." 

With a sly sideways grin, she put a hand on his knee. "You sure about that?" Then she slowly steadily spider-walked her fingertips up along his thigh. "One hundred percent?" 

"Hey!" he said, "Hey now! Hold on! Hey!" 

But for all his protests, he didn't move. He didn't try to stop her from unzipping his fly, and digging her hand in there, and taking a firm grip on him, and then fishing his johnson out of his boxers into the open. 

"Look at this guy," she said, "Look how excited you are." 

And she started pumping her hand on him. 

"Oh shit. Oh Christ. Laura! Laura! Hey now! Hoohhuuhh! God!" 

"Tell me who he is, Rick. Tell me." 

He grit his teeth and shook his head. "No. I can't. This is a dirty trick. I won't let it work. It's too important, Laura. I mean, you're too important. Seriously. Uhhhnn. Uhhuuh. Too dangerous. I'm not gonna tell you. I'm not. I can't. I won't. Not even for ... this ... Ohhh!"

"You want me to stop? I'll stop if you don't tell me what I need to know."

"Go on then. Stop. Stop it. Please. Don't torture me anymore. No fair. Manipulating me. Taking advantage of my feelings. It's a dirty trick. Stop. Just stop!" 

She didn't, though. She pumped him harder instead. And he still didn't make any real effort to wrestle out of her reach or push her hand away. Wasn't like she had him tied up or anything. But he held perfectly still with his hands crossed behind his back, like he was. Just squirmed and panted and moaned. Taking it. Loving it, too. She could tell. Did his best to pretend like he wasn't, but he wasn't very convincing. Not even slightly. It was pretty funny, in fact, for Laura, watching his face and listening to his bullshit. 

"You're so mean. You're being so mean to me. Ohhuuh oohhhoohh. Why are you being so mean? Never knew you were so cruel. Ohh oohhh stop stop it stop ooohh please pleeeeze stop!"

"Tell me what I need to know." 

"I can't! I can't! Laura! Oh man! Oh man! I just ... just can't!"

Why on earth did her hand feel so much better on his cock than his own did, when he pumped himself off? It didn't make any sense. Her hand was littler than his, with skinny fingers—when she gripped him, she wasn't covering as much of his shaft as his own hand would. And she wasn't pumping him any harder than he would normally do ... But even so, it felt completely different when she did it. A million times better. "Jesus, Laura! Sweet fucking Jesus! Uhh! Uhh! Uhhuhhuh!" She hadn't taken any clothes off—she wasn't showing him nothing special, no sexy parts of herself he wouldn't normally get to see every day. It didn't matter one little bit. Just with her tiny little hand, she was totally rocking his world. God, imagine what real sex would be like, if a simple handjob was this amazing ... He wouldn't perform very well, he wouldn't be able to last long enough. Her hand by itself was gonna make him explode like a nuclear rocket, if she kept doing what she was doing ... He was gonna pass out, probably! Holy shit! "Why you doing this to me?"

"You know why, idiot. Give me the name. Go on. Quit trying to fight me, it ain't worth it, is it? Be a good boy and spill the beans, heh heh." 

"No! Seriously! I mustn't! Really! I keep telling you! I keep telling you and telling you! I won't do it! Because I can't!"

"Sure you can. Then you get your reward." Her grip tightened and sped up ... 

"Ahhuuhhaahh! No! No way! I'm sorry but no way! Even ... not even if you make me come! Go on! Make me spurt all over myself! You can humiliate me all you want—you've got all the power. I still won't tell you nothing! It won't do you any good!" 

"I won't make you spurt all over yourself, if you tell me the name. If you give me what I want, I'll reward you for it. I'll let you come on my face instead, like your own private porno. All over my glasses and my braces. Picture it. Wouldn't you like that? I know you will. You've been dreaming about doing that to me for ages and ages, haven't you? Do this one thing for me, and I'll make that fantasy come true, right now." She knelt and lowered her face sideways under his cock, aiming the tip over her forehead. 

"Oh shit! Oh shit! I'm gonna come! You're gonna make me come! Can't stand it! Can't hold out anymore! Laura! Laura! Oh God! God!" 

But then somehow at the last possible instant, just as he was about to burst, she changed the way she was holding him. She stopped pumping, and instead gripped the head of his cock as tight as she could against her palm, so tight it hurt, and she also grabbed the root of his shaft with her other hand and squeezed him there just as hard. And he couldn't come—she'd blocked it in! She was holding him trapped, right at the brink! 

It was horrible. It was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. He lost his mind. Thought he was gonna die. 

"Laura! Laura! God! Oh God! Please! Please! Let me! Let me! Ahhaahhhuuhhh! God!" 

She roared at him. She was like a lioness. "Tell me the name! Tell me the name right now! Tell me, you piece of shit! Fucking tell me! TELL!"

"I'm gonna die! Ahhuuhh lemme come! Pleeeze! Laura! God! It hurts! It hurts! Ahhuuhhaahh please pretty please! Please!" 

Now actually, if Rick had held out just another few seconds, the desperate maddening pressure that was tormenting him would have eased off, by itself. You can't actually die or become crippled from having an ejaculation suppressed like that—it just feels that way at the time. Your balls will not explode internally; your cock will not turn green and fall off. You'll feel perfectly fine in a minute, more or less. Your need to ejaculate will simply recede—as will your climax, though some people can have one anyway, without ejaculating. Some claim this makes a climax better. You can supposedly teach yourself how to do it, with concentration and practice. A Tantric thing. It's not as loopy as it might sound—orgasms happen in the brain. Paraplegics and quadriplegics can have orgasms, once their brain adapts to their condition, even if they can't get a hard-on ever again. 

Rick didn't know any of that stuff. Probably wouldn't have mattered if he did. He gave in. Laura had broken him.

"TELL!" 

He told her the name. He screamed it again and again. 

"Good boy," she said, and then let him come. Not on her face, though, despite what she said before. She moved out of the way, made him spew on the gungy tile floor. Squeezing his nuts as well as pumping his shaft. He made a pretty enormous pool of goop on the tile. It just kept flying out of him, burst after burst ... 

"Huuhhn! Huuhhn! Huuhhuhhhuuhh ..."

"Ewww. Look at the big sticky mess you made. You should be ashamed of yourself." 

He wailed and sputtered: "You said you'd—you said I'd get to—you said—"

She wrinkled her nose and clicked her tongue at him. "I lied, buddy. You should know me better than that by now. I'd never do that demeaning bullshit for you in a million years. Or any other stupid fucker, for that matter. Get over it, sucker. Just be good and grateful I let you come at all."

"No fair," he whimpered. But then she squeezed his nuts again. "Ohh God Laura oohhoohh." More jizz fired out of him, adding to the pool. "Jesus. I never knew you were so mean."

"Don't bitch. You like it when I'm mean. Be a gentleman now and say thank you." 

"Th-thank you, Laura. Thank you for ... letting me get me off." 

It had been painful. But it was also probably the greatest orgasm he ever had in his life. Holding it back like that for those few seconds, agonizing as they were, made his explosion a hundred times more satisfying when she allowed it to happen. 

The humiliation of how she'd done it—that added a lot of extra kick, too. 

Sex was never gonna be quite the same for Rick, after this experience. He'd never considered himself the kind of guy that liked girls to boss him around. Now he'd never be able to get worked up any good without that particular ingredient. Though his vocabulary wasn't large enough to include this word, Laura had just single-handedly (hee hee) transformed him into a masochist.

3.

The name she'd got made perfect sense. She should have guessed it already. 

Guy was one of the assistant coaches. Just graduated a year or so before. Not great enough to go pro, so now he was back with his old team as part of the staff. 

Only now turned out that job was only a cover for his real gig ... The evil vicious bastard. She was gonna nail his ass so good. Yes sir. He'd never see her coming, either. 

All right, at this stage, what exactly was her next step gonna be? What would be the best way to begin? She needed to plan her strategy very carefully. No rushing. 

Laura was so completely caught up in her machinations, she never noticed the big black SUV speeding up behind her. 

It was a little after one in the morning. She was a little over half way home from Rick's frat house. Zooming along around the woodsy outskirts of the college campus on her snazzy little scooter, with her pink helmet on (it had dorky floppy plastic bunny ears stuck on top) and electronic dance music from her phone, in her jacket pocket, pounding in her earbuds, the volume cranked up far too loud. Needed that noise to keep herself calm, after what she'd just learned, and to help her think.

Then the SUV swung around in front of her and cut her off, the headlights blinding. 

She didn't smash into it or flip herself over from braking too fast, but it was a near thing. She wet herself, a little. 

Before she could do anything else, three or four people had burst from the vehicle and rushed around her, grabbing her arms and dragging her off her scooter, so it toppled over on its side with a clatter on the street. Then she got slapped across her face. 

"Skank!" She was slapped again. "You think I wouldn't find out?" Laura recognized the voice—God, it was Krissy! Rick's psycho cheerleader girlfriend. With her little bitchy band of followers, same as always. 

"What the hell? Fucking let go of my arms. What the fuck is this?"

"Payback," said Krissy, "Get her ass in the back. Let's get the fuck out of here."

"What about her scooter?" asked one of the minions. 

"Leave it right there." 

"It's a nice expensive little scooter. Somebody will snatch it." 

"Good for them! Come on!" 

4. 

Now they're holding her pinned on her hands and knees on the floor in the back of the SUV—all the chairs have been removed from this part, so there's lots of room. Well, not lots, but enough. 

One of the minions is driving. They're on the freeway, the outerbelt. Not going anywhere, just circling town. The other two minions are in charge of holding Laura down, bent over, so Krissy can crouch in front and lord it over her ... She's holding up Laura's face by her hair. Hurts like hell. It's making her cry.




A Detective Story



"You are so out of your fucking mind," Laura said, "it's not even funny." 

Krissy spat on her face. "You think you can fuck my boyfriend on a whim and get away with it?" 

"I never fucked your stupid boyfriend. I never would. Even if he begged me to. You can keep him. You're welcome to him." 

"Liar! You're such a liar! I can't believe you'd look me right in the eye right here and lie to me like that! You are so twisted! Wasn't half an hour ago you walked out of his room. All his frat brothers saw you strut downstairs and straight out the front door without saying a word to anybody, and they all saw the cocky smile you had on your face. Five different people texted me about it."

"Doesn't mean I fucked him." 

"I bet his come is still dripping out of your slutty pussy right this second. We should take a look and see!" 

"What? Get real!"

"We're about to get real, you stuck-up selfish whore. I'm gonna show you what's real." She grabbed Laura's arms and dragged them both towards her on the floor, far as she could stretch them, to force her flat on her face and also burning both Laura's palms in the process, scraping them across that rough carpet. Then Krissy got a fistful of the back of her jacket and started pulling up on it, hard as she could. The seam on the jacket's left sleeve, which had already been starting to come a little unraveled the last few days, tore open completely. Fuck! Laura loved this jacket. Bitch was gonna ruin it.

"What are you doing? What do you want from me?"

"Gonna take all this shit off of you. Come on, girls. Don't just watch—help me! We're gonna strip this slut! Tear all her clothes off! Everything!" 

The minions hesitated, but not for very long. They were good little minions. "Come on! Everything!" Krissy shrieked again, "Strip this slut to her bare ass! Strip her bare ass naked!" 

One of those other girls even started giggling, as they got to work together on Laura's boots and her leggings. Like a spoiled kid unwrapping a surprise present. That was what the sound made you think of.

It was deeply disturbing and frightening. Well, of course. Not so much what they were doing to her—that was almost too shocking to process, so it didn't feel like it wasn't really happening, 'cause it was just too plain ridiculous and sick to be real—but the girls' gleeful attitude, that alone. Laura felt it twist in her guts like a hot knife. How could they be so heartless and savage? How could they giggle? These were other women, her own age. How could girls act like this? Only guys were supposed to turn this evil and nasty, when lust took over their minds. "Stop! Stop! You can't do this! This is too much! You're going too far!" 

"Ha!" said Krissy, "Shows what you know. I'm just getting started." 

She tried to fight, but just like Rick had pointed out earlier, she was just one girl all by herself, and she was not and never had been any kind of athlete. She had never been a particularly strong person. She had no secret special ninja skills, like a spunky college detective girl in a TV show would probably have. Or a taser, at the very least. She'd had some pepper spray in her jacket pocket, every girl carried some of that shit around nowadays, but of course they had found that right away and confiscated it when they first captured her. Guess if she did own a taser, she'd have already lost it the same way. 

"You bitches! You crazy bitches! Quit it! Quit! I'll get back at you all for this! I swear to God! I'll never forgive you! Let go of me! Oh Christ! Ahhuuhh!" 

She couldn't stop them taking away all her clothes. The bitches took everything she had. Except for her glasses, if those counted. They got knocked badly askew, somebody's knee had thunked her on the nose and the frame had got bent, but the things still clung somehow on her face. The lenses steamed up during the struggle from the heat of their exertions.

And once it was over, once she was naked, Laura lost her spirit. The reality of it—undeniable now, impossible and unbelievable though this remained—and the humiliation, everything overwhelmed her. She broke down bawling. 

"I don't deserve this. I didn't do anything! I didn't! I swear! I didn't have sex with Rick or anybody else! 

Just let me go! Let me have my clothes back! You're torturing me for no reason! It's not right! It's not fair! Please! Please let me go! I swear I didn't do anything against you! Please!" 

Krissy refused to believe her. "Look at this! Look!" She tunneled her fingers mercilessly into Laura's exposed and defenseless pussy and scooped out glistening goo on her fingertips, holding them up triumphantly. "You're such a liar! You're such a skank! Look at all this come I found! Look at it! He filled your skank pussy up with it, didn't he? Now it's leaking out of you all over the floor! Only your smelly panties were corking it all inside. Look! Right here! Fucking look!"

"No! It's not true! You're out of your mind! It isn't come! It can't be! It didn't happen! I swear! God! I swear to you! It isn't come!" 

"What is it then? What is this goo? Huh? Sure smells like come to me. Well? Tell me! Tell me!"

"I don't know! I don't know! Leave me alone! Stop torturing me! I didn't do anything!" 

It was just all her own fluid, in fact. A mix of from when she wet herself earlier, and from before that, when she was jerking off Rick. She hadn't fucked him, that was perfectly true, but it was also an undeniable fact that she'd become highly aroused from the act she had performed with him. Naturally it was extremely exciting for her. A huge heady power trip, taking charge of him like that. Utterly dominating him. Not enough to make get her off too, with her clothes still on, and with no direct tactile stimulation during the key moments where it would most count, but still, her body got itself pretty darn close to the peak all by itself, just mentally and emotionally. Triggering a great deal of internal seepage as that occurred. Perfectly natural. 

And then, on top of that, being stripped like this. Horrible and nightmarish as it was, it had still made her pussy moisten further. Nakedness does that to a girl, and sheer embarrassment too. Terror all by itself, sometimes. You can't help it; it's an involuntary reaction. Then freaking out about it and trying to fight the feeling just stirs it up worse. If she'd been a boy, she would have got a big aching boner instead, against her will. Didn't mean she'd be happy about it. Didn't mean she'd fallen in love with Krissy all the sudden. 

Didn't mean Krissy was right about her, either, calling her a skank again and again. Yet it was getting harder and harder to hang on to the truth of that assertion. She couldn't think straight anymore. Krissy was dominating her too much, too harshly. Laura had almost no resistance left at all. Her will was crushed to nothingness. Facts be damned. There were no help to her, at this point. 

"Please let me go! Please forgive me! Please! I'll do anything! I promise I'll never go near Rick again. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry! Please let me have my clothes back now! Please! Oh please!" 

"Not just yet, skank," said Krissy, "One thing more you gotta do for me, before I'm finished with you. One more lesson I wanna make sure you've learned." 

"What is it? Oh God. Oh please. What now? Please don't do any more. You don't have to do anything more to me! I swear! Please just stop this! Please stop! Just stop!" 

"Just this one last thing, skank. That's all. When you fuck with me, I fuck back. That's what I want you to remember after tonight. That's the lesson you need to learn."

"I've learned it! I learned it already! I have! I swear I have!"

"Well, maybe you have. But we gotta make good and sure. We gotta test you. I'm going to test you right now, personally. And here's how: you fucked my boyfriend, now I'm gonna fuck you. Only fair. If you had a boyfriend of your own, I'd just go and fuck him. But I know you don't. You don't ever seem to bother with getting a boyfriend of your own. I guess you figure you don't need to—you can just fuck other girls' boyfriends, when you happen to be in the mood. Well, not anymore. Not after tonight."

"I won't! Never! I promise! You don't have to do this! You don't have to do any more to me!" 

Krissy went on like there'd been no interruption, like she hadn't heard a word. "It's gonna have to be you, yourself. Your skank pussy. I'm gonna fuck it, right now, with this." She dangled a giant dildo over Laura's face. Where had that come from? She seemed to have conjured it out of thin air ... It was gigantic and green and covered with scary gross bumps and spiral ridges all down the length. It was dreadful. 

"Oh God. No! Not like that! Not with that thing! Please don't! You don't have to fuck me! I swear I've learned my lesson! Please! Please don't! Mercy! I beg you! I'll lick your pussy! Mercy!" 

"I'm not really into other girls, but for you I'm gonna make a special exception. I've brought lube, too. And I made sure to bring a lot." She held up a big purple bottle, with a glowing lightning bolt on it. "It's a special expensive kind that gets hot and tingly when you rub it in real good, and also tastes like raspberries. I think you'll like it a lot. I do. I'm not gonna rip your pussy up—you're not gonna be able to go crying tomorrow to the cops or a doctor and say 'boo hoo look inside me I've been assaulted.'"

"I won't. I wouldn't do that. I promise I won't tell anyone or try to get back at you. If you just let me go right now, I'll never say a single word to anyone. I swear it!" 

Krissy ignored this like all the rest, giving fresh orders to her minions. "Roll her over again, ladies. Wanna take her doggy style. Put the bitch back on her hands and knees for me. Get her ass up higher. That's good. You don't gotta hold her no more. I can handle her myself from here on." 

"Is it all right," asked one of the minions, the giggling one, "if I make lick my pussy while you fuck her?"

"You can," said Krissy, "but not right off. Wait 'til I tell you. I'll give you a signal. I wanna be able to hear her scream for a while, with nothing in the way. Nothing for her to take her mind off me and what I'm doing to her. I wanna be able to hear it when I make her come. 'Cause I will. Skank like this won't be able to help herself. Won't be able to hold back. I'm gonna fuck her like she's never been fucked before. I'm gonna change this bitch's world. Forever. As soon as that happens, soon as she gives up her orgasm to me, then you can move in and put her lying mouth to work." 

5.

>> I'm being raped! I'm being raped! Oh God, I'm being raped! 

For the first minute or two, that was all she could keep thinking. Then suddenly another voice inside her head broke in, with a wry, disgusted tone: Just shut up already, we get the picture. We know. You don't have to keep repeating it, for pete's sake. 

It occurred to her that she'd just become another statistic. One more sad little pathetic victim to add to the millions and millions. You worry about it your whole life, if you're a woman. On some level deep down, you're always worrying about it. Waiting for it to happen to you. You're always wondering how you'll handle it, when it does. 'Cause more often than not it feels close to a foregone conclusion. Not a question of if but only when ... an inevitable matter of time. How bad will it be, when that times comes? Will you fight or won't you? Will you survive or not? Even if you're careful, it's likely to happen. Even if you do all the umpteen things you're supposed to do to stay safe, and none of the things you aren't. All the hundred shitty rules you're told you gotta follow or else you're "asking" for it. A woman reconciles herself to the situation, best as she can. Just 'cause there's no other choice. It's like breast cancer. Super scary and super unfair, and every female on the planet has to face this same horrible bullshit, all the time—'cause it comes with the territory. 

Yet this almost maybe doesn't count. 'Cause this is another girl doing it to her, with a plastic strap-on dick. Never imagined it might happen like this. What are the fucking odds? In some ways, it maybe makes it not as bad as a normal rape, and in other ways it's much, much worse. Much, much more humiliating and unfair. Given the option, she thinks she'd rather have a regular rapist. Well, maybe. Or no, fuck that. Not really. 

That lube Krissy's using ... Jesus Christ. Laura's never used artificial lube inside herself like this. The feel of it is very strange, very startling. Very embarrassing. It's not like hand lotion—it fizzles, is the thing. Makes her picture the foam from soda pop. It really feels like that, inside her vagina. Except like Krissy told her, the goop is hot instead of cold. Jesus. Almost like melted candle wax—if you could make the wax bubble and fizz somehow like a soft drink. Carbonated candle wax, smeared insider her pussy. 

Jesus Christ! 

And like Krissy said, the harder and faster she moves and rubs the stuff in and stirs it up, the heat and the fizzing inside keeps getting worse and worse, 'til it's damn near scalding ... but it feels good, for some reason. Well, no, it's not really a mystery—the crud is just doing what it was designed to. Clever chemistry. Stimulating her. 

Sex has never felt nothing like this. Every single aspect ... Laura never let anybody do it to her doggy-style. It seemed too animalistic and submissive and demeaning. She's always on top, when she fucks a guy. It's the only way she can enjoy it, provided the guy lasts long enough. They don't, in general. First few times she had it missionary and never got to come. Didn't like it that way at all. Only now this time doggy is turning out to work better than she would have imagined—just the angle of the dick, for starters. It hits all the key places inside her vagina almost perfectly from this direction. She thought when she was on top, that was the perfect angle, but this way is actually better. Now it finally makes sense why so many girls say this position is their favorite. While as a bonus, the lube, like it's supposed to, is enhancing the sensations ... Holy crap, Krissy's going to make her come! 

The fact she's being raped should obviously prevent that. Why isn't it? She can't usually enjoy anything when she's upset or angry, even when it's just a trivial stupid thing that's bothering her. An embarrassing zit on her chin, a stain on her shirt ... She won't be able to sleep or eat or watch TV. She won't be able to relax or concentrate on anything at all until she finally simmers down, which can take ages ... All she'll do is fret and grumble for hours and hours, sometimes days and days. And right now, this isn't a trivial stupid thing—this is the exact opposite. A major legitimate appalling traumatic crisis! This is apocalyptic, the single worst ugliest most dreadful thing that's ever happened to her. Yet Krissy's going to make her have an orgasm, regardless ... Laura can feel it. She can feel it building up closer and closer. It's absolutely unstoppable. Any second now, it's gonna hit home and shatter her ... Hugest orgasm of her whole stupid life. Oh God. Oh God. Why is this happening? What does this mean? 

She's more pissed at herself now than Krissy and her minions. After this is over, Laura's going to hate herself for the rest of her life. She will never forgive herself. Never never ever. 

When the other girl mashes her smelly oozing pussy up against Laura's face, she doesn't try to wriggle away, or ignore it. Laura puts her tongue out and licks it, without having to be told. And she licks it good. She puts real effort into it—trying to do it right. Trying to find the other girl's clit. It actually helps, having something to do now, besides take the plastic dick and scream—something else to concentrate on. It provides an escape. A specific physical technical task. This stops her thinking. Or at least all she thinks about is what she's doing, what she has to do. Eating a girl out isn't easy—not if you're gonna do it properly. Especially not while you're still being fucked from behind, and getting your hair pulled, jostling you around. It's a matter of targeting, and getting the rhythm right. Takes concentration and determination ... As long as she's focused on this, Laura won't think of anything else. Her emotions quiet down. She's too busy to suffer any longer. 

Pussy and its juices, as everyone eventually learns, have a strong flavor and a strong scent, same as cock and the semen that spews out of it. Not bad, just particularly powerfully pungent and distinctive. People often compare it to salty fish, but fishy and salty as it is, really it's not a flavor one is likely to confuse with anything else, afterward. It's the taste of pussy—the flavor of fucking. You don't forget it. It gets all over you and overwhelms you. Plus you can't breathe very easily, when you're shoving your nose into it. That helps too. When you do get a breath, you breathe in more pussy than air. Fogs up your brain, and damn quick. 

Pussy and pleasing it becomes your whole world ... Messy as it is, it's almost mystical. 

6.

They dropped her off an hour or so later in the same spot where they first grabbed her. Her scooter was still lying where they'd left it. That was a lucky bonus. She'd been sure she'd never see it again. 

They wouldn't give her clothes back, after they shoved her out the door into the street. Only thing they offered was the silly pink helmet with the dorky plastic rabbit ears. The giggling minion that had made Laura eat her out came up with that gag. Laura didn't take the helmet. Pretended like she didn't see the girl holding it out at her, because she was too focused on Krissy alone—Krissy's blazing eyes. Trying with her own eyes to wring one tiny shred of pity out of the psycho, now that Krissy's victory was complete and irrefutable for all time. "Please! You can't leave me like this! Not after all the rest. You've punished me enough! Please!"

No good, inevitably. "See you around, skank," said Krissy, "Don't cross me again. Fucking you was really fun, though. I liked it much more than I thought I would. You seemed to like it a lot too, once you got into it. You decide you want more, come find me. Just stay away from my boyfriend. You see us some place together, don't you come near. Turn around and run the other way, fast as you can. And obviously that goes double for when I'm not with him. I catch you even looking at him—" 

"I won't. I promise. Please let me have my clothes back. Just my jacket? Don't leave me out here naked, all alone in the cold and the dark. Please!" She knelt down on the asphalt, still clutching her sore pussy with both hands—she couldn't take her hands off it. Like they were stuck to it with glue. Pressing on it like that was soothing. She wasn't really conscious of doing it. "I beg you. I beg you. Don't leave me here naked." 

Krissy only snorted and they peeled out, roared away. That was that. 

After weeping for quite a while, Laura finally got to her feet and shuffled over to her scooter. She took a breath and bent again to heave it upright, with an "Oof!" At least doing that finally got her to take her sticky hands off her crotch. Paint job on the side of the thing was pretty scuffed, but not as bad as she thought it would be. No dents. She didn't start the motor. Didn't want to risk the noise attracting any attention to her. She decided she would walk it the rest of the way home, as quietly as possible along the side of the road, and with her body hunched as low as possible behind it. Not that it provided much coverage; she just had to make do.

If a car came along ... or some people walking ... What would she do? Probably drop the scooter at the curb and run into the trees, just try to hide until they passed. 




A Detective Story



Pretty soon though, closer she got to home, there wouldn't be any trees and bushes around anymore. Just crummy houses and apartment buildings all crammed together. Always plenty of parked cars along the street. She could hunker down between them or crawl underneath one, if she needed to. 

Still, this was gonna be really hard. Really scary. Gonna take forever, 'til she finally made it to her building. She wasn't used to being barefoot either. The filthy street would beat the hell out of them. Gravel and busted glass all over the place. God, this was gonna be torture. Icy cold, too. She hadn't noticed before how cold it had gotten. Last week that wouldn't have been an issue—it was still stinking hot all night. Now fall was getting serious finally. Perfect timing. She'd end up catching pneumonia or some shit. 

She should just fire up her scooter and ride it home, fast as she could. Just as much chance of getting caught like this either way. Freeze her tits off in the wind, though. Then again they felt like they were gonna freeze off already, just standing here doing nothing yet in the dark. 

Didn't care too much if drunken students or bums saw her. What scared her was police. Local cops were obviously no fans of her, after the cover-ups she made public. They'd only make a mockery of her, if they found her on the street in this state. Taking the opportunity to discredit her work and get back at her. Probably throw her in jail, pretending she was out of her mind on drugs. She'd get no help from those fuckers. 

When Rick wouldn't tell what he knew, he kept telling her it was too dangerous and acting like he was trying to protect her—though obviously he'd really been more concerned with protecting his own ass, the whole time, not hers. Even if he'd been telling the truth, it would still have pissed her off. So patronizing, and cowardly too, and selfish. As a journalist and a detective, she had no patience at all with the idea of backing off from a mystery because it was too scary. That made it only more necessary to pursue and solve. 

But now there were all these things Krissy just showed her ... Laura ended up learning a whole bunch of stuff from the psycho bitch tonight, and from her minions too—stuff about herself. Nasty things she never would have guessed about herself. Never in a hundred million years. Lots and lots of things. 

She wasn't the girl she always thought she was. Not deep down. She was somebody else in there, turned out. A whole different sort of person. And pretty weak, and pretty damn nasty. Hell of a thing to find out, all the sudden. Hell of thing to have to carry around inside her head from now on. 

Detective or not, cowardly or not, if she could snap her fingers and go back to not knowing any of this stuff, just like that, she would. Fuck yeah. In a heartbeat.



A Detective Story



Dani got up and hugged me close. God, she was putting on the Full Court Press with me. I decided to nip it in the bud.

"Dani, listen to me, ok?" I croaked. At her reluctant nod, I continued. "Dani, I'm sorry for that just now. I thought yesterday was just a really bad nightmare. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think of you in that way sometimes, but I love my wife... or who she used to be before that scumbag got his hands on her. But I promise you one thing right now. IF Samantha went along with this all willingly, I'm going to divorce her. When that's done, if you still want me, I'm more than willing to try with you. Ok?" 

"And that's one reason I fell in love with you." She sighed in resignation. "You're the most fucking honorable man I've ever met." Her voice was equal parts admiration and exasperation.

"Thanks, sweety." I kissed her cheek as I released her nubile body. I got a good look at her without the tears in my eyes, and she literally took my breath away. She's tan all over, with no tan lines. Her pussy hair is neatly trimmed and shaved below. Her nipples, capping her D-cups, are dark brown and already hard as bullets. Dear Lord. I was being tempted like I'd never been tempted before!

"Like what you see, papi?" She gave me a seductive grin.

"Uh huh." I managed. Hey, all the blood was in my small head at that point. My brain was oxygen deprived! I had swollen to mammoth proportions compared to normal. Dani looked down and smiled, but didn't reach for me.

"When this is over, and if you aren't with Sammie again, I'm going to fuck your brains out for the rest of our lives, papi." She whispered, which made my cock jump even more.

"Dani, if I'm not with Sammie when the dust settles, I'll let you." I whispered back, then stepped back and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me as I stroked my cock twice and came in the toilet.

Once that was taken care of, I was able to relieve my bladder, finally. When I came out to get dressed, Dani wasn't in the room, but I heard the sizzle of the frying pan out in the kitchen. I smiled at that, then got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, put on my belt with Colt in Holster, and went out to join her. I didn't usually wear my pistol at home, but I wasn't going to take any chances with a possibly sociopathic psychologist out there. I noticed that Dani was also wearing her piece. A Lady Smith & Wesson in 9mm. She'd also gotten a concealed carry permit shortly after I hired her.

"Smells good." I said with the first big genuine smile I'd had since this whole mess started.

"Thanks, Nick." She shot me a cute grin, then went back to turning the omelet she was making. I smelled bacon in there, as well as cheese and salsa. She really knew her stuff. She was dressed in one of my old t-shirts and the jeans she'd worn last night. Her blouse was still on the floor in the bedroom.

"Dani, I know this is going to be tough on both of us." I said as I sat down on a barstool at the kitchen counter. She looked at me and raised her eyebrow.

"Boss, I didn't sign on to be coddled. You made it clear from day one that I would most likely be needed on some cases, and with my background in criminal justice, you knew you could count on me. That hasn't, and won't ever change. I couldn't help falling in love with you, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna shy away from this one. This case is personal to me too, since Sammie is my friend. That pendejo doctor is going to get a rude fuckin' awakening by the time we're done with his ass!" Every word she said was true. 

She'd been a detective for two years in the LAPD, but had been drummed out for beating a rape suspect half to death. She'd been lucky to avoid serious charges, but as the son of a bitch had been guilty, they didn't want the bad publicity of filing charges on her. She'd been given a nice little severance package to keep her mouth shut about the circumstances of her termination, but she'd been up front about it with me when I'd first interviewed her. It was one reason I'd given her the job. I wanted someone who wasn't afraid to get his or her hands dirty. Dani was definitely NOT afraid to get her hands dirty. Sometimes, I just forgot that about her.

"You're right." I nodded. "Dani, I need to tell you something about me that not even Sammie knows." I took a deep breath. I knew I could trust Dani. She'd trusted me, and I had verified the veracity of who she was and why she'd been fired.

"What do you mean?" She asked, a confused look on her face.

"Dani, I never worked for an Insurance company. I worked for THE Company as a covert operative." There. "My name is Nick Carter, and I used to be a spy."

Annnd that sounds like a REALLY BAD impression of the opening of Burn Notice.

Dani just looked at me, then plated our omelets and brought them to the counter, along with mugs of coffee. God Bless Dani.

"I sorta figured that. It was either that, or you had a criminal record someplace." She shrugged. "You're always looking around you like someone might be watching you. You don't show it much, but I've spotted it over the years we've been together. You know a lot about bugs, and how to tap a phone in record time. And then there's your lockpicking ability which rates right up there with the best catburglars in the business."

I laughed outright. She really was a shit hot Detective! "You're good!" I said, raising my mug of coffee to her before taking a sip. Mmmmmm, just right. "Oh, and you make the best damn coffee on Earth. Just so you know." I said.

It was her turn to laugh. "Thanks, Boss." She said. "I'm not just a pretty face and a hot body, you know." She winked.

"I know. If you were just those things, I wouldn't have hired you." I shrugged. She leaned over and gave me a kiss in the cheek.

"Thank you, Nick. No matter how this goes, thank you for everything." She smiled.

"Hey, you act like you're going to be leaving. Not gonna happen." I smirked at her. "You'll be working with me until we're both old and gray."

She just regarded me for a moment. "You know, you're right." She grinned. "I couldn't leave you if I got a job paying a million bucks a day."

"Good." I said. "Because I can't afford that, and you're the best damn assistant I could ever hope for."

"I'm glad you finally acknowledge that, Boss. Now, eat your food before I smack you!" She stuck her tongue out at me, so I stuck mine out back.

Then I really dug in, and her omelet was amazingly good. God, that girl can COOK! There are two schools of thought on the way to a man's heart, and all that stuff they teach girls. One is through his stomach, and the other is through his penis. For me, it's both. Granted, Sammie is a tornado in bed... WAS MY tornado in bed, and she could cook reasonably well.

BUT, and you KNEW there was a But coming, Dani's skill in the kitchen easily put Sammie to shame. If she fucked HALF as good as she cooks, I was seriously considering trading up, even if Sammie had been brainwashed by Dr. Dickfungus. 

That might sound cold, but she had succumbed fairly easily without discussing anything with me at all. I couldn't believe that she would go behind my back to see a quack shrink like Linder, and not discuss ANYTHING with me! That itself was unlike her. She used to tell me everything, early on in our relationship. It had only been in the past couple months since starting her "therapy" that she had shut me out pretty much completely.

Once breakfast was done, I helped Dani with the dishes. Once done, she turned and before I could react, slipped her arms around my neck and pulled my face to hers. She kissed me passionately, and for a few seconds, I returned her kiss just as hotly. Our tongues dueled for dominance, and then I backed off, blushing like a school boy.

"I'm sorry, Nick." She said quietly.

"No, Dani. I don't think either one of us is sorry for that." I chuckled. "Damn, I wish I'd met you before my wife!"

"So do I." She said sadly. Shit. Someone was going to end up getting hurt, no matter how this turned out. I really didn't want it to be either of them if Sammie had been coerced or brainwashed. We HAD to watch those videos!

"Come on, let's go watch those vids and see if they can shine some light on Sammie's mental state." I said. We went into the den, where I kept my Home Office, and I downloaded half of the videos to her laptop.

I started where I needed to start. With Sammie.

The first interview was pretty basic. Just a 'getting to know you' session. Dr. Dicksucker was jotting stuff down in his notepad while asking Sammie questions about her life. He asked about her husband (me), and about any other family. She told him about her parents, and about how much she loved us all. I studied his face, and a sly little smile played across his lips at that. He then asked a few more innocuous questions, and then told her not to speak of this to anyone, as it could adversely affect their future therapy sessions.

That son of a bitch! He had set out to seduce her from the start! And since she had followed his instructions on keeping me in the dark, and I had no clue what was going on, I couldn't have done a damn thing to stop it. He had abused her trust in him as a medical professional.

Malpractice suit. Check.

The second vid was more questions. More personal questions this time. He asked her about our sex life. She answered truthfully, and I couldn't help feeling a swell of pride when she admitted that I gave her multiple orgasms each time we had sex. He just jotted stuff in his infernal notepad about each answer she gave. He asked some more personal questions that she seemed reluctant to answer, but he reassured her that nobody else would ever know about what she said. She answered truthfully again. It ended with him reiterating the need to keep these session confidential. She agreed.

I checked the dates on the videos. There were 16 videos of Sammie's "sessions", and that corresponded to his Monday and Wednesday appointments. I groaned as I put my face in my hands.

The third vid was difficult to watch. But once again, he didn't brainwash her or coerce her in any way other than "professional ethics" as he called it. She told him about her fantasies, and a lot of them I already knew about, and had helped her fulfill. Some, however, were things she'd NEVER told me about, before! She wanted to tie me up? She wanted to dominate me in the bedroom? She wanted me to clean her out after I came inside her? Jesus! She'd NEVER said anything to me about those! Once again, after she was done telling him what he wanted to know, he stressed the need for secrecy, and sent her on her way.

The fourth vid was when he started his insidious seduction in full. He asked her to describe her domination fantasies in detail, so she launched into graphic descriptions of what she wanted to do to me, and I listened raptly to each thing she said. She got through two of them before time was up. Once again, the secrecy agreement, and she was on her way.

The fifth and sixth videos were very similar to the fourth. She told him about her pseudo-cuckolding fantasy that concerned me eating my creampie out of her pussy. She was very graphic about that one, and then it REALLY amped up when he asked if she would want me to eat another man's cum out of her cunt. She thought about it, but then shook her head, saying she could never cheat on me like that! I felt a bit better when I heard her say that, and he backed off his Full Court Press that he'd been about to launch. He reminded her to keep it confidential in each one, and she agreed.

The seventh and eighth videos were more fantasies of hers where she would fuck me in the ass with a strap-on (never going to happen), and a few others. I was beginning to see why she wouldn't have told me about these fantasies. I just shook my head as she told him personal things about herself that she had never shared with me, her own husband. He then suggested having two men at once to her, and showed her a video clip of a woman in a sandwich, with one guy in her pussy and the other in her ass. Sammie and I had anal sex, and she actually loved it. When she saw that, the wheels in her brain started turning, and she said she would think about that one.

That was his kicker, and I saw his sly grin of triumph at the end of the video. He ONCE AGAIN urged her to keep their sessions confidential, and then let her go.

The rest of the videos were mostly him talking to her about her fantasies thus far. He enumerated each fantasy and pointed to how she was actually a dominant personality that had been subservient all her life, and had grown to accept it. First, she was subservient to her family. Then she was subservient to me. He built up her self-worth to the point of egotism by the end of the 14th video, and had convinced her to have two men (including me) as part of her "therapy". I noticed that starting in that one, he didn't urge her to keep quiet, knowing she wouldn't tell anyone, including me.

It was the fifteenth video where he first fucked her. Just a little under a week and a half ago. He told her that he would be the second man, if she wanted him to be. She said she didn't know, but he said that with his smaller penis, he would easily fit in her ass while I was in her pussy. She looked like she struggled with the decision for a solid 15 minutes as he gently urged her towards where he wanted her mind to be. She finally gave in, and he laid down on his desk and told her to dominate him. She did, riding his cock until she came, and then taking him in her ass. She complimented him that his cock was perfect for her ass, even though she had trouble coming on it in her pussy. I had to chuckle at that, in spite of everything. I never had trouble making her come while fucking her cunt.

The sixteenth vid was the last. She came in and before he could say anything, she kissed him passionately and then fucked him hard with her ass bouncing up and down on him in reverse cowgirl. She fucked her own cunt with a dildo while he fucked her ass, and after they were done, she said that she didn't just want a two on one, she wanted to cuckold me with him! That was the clincher right there. It showed me that she was beyond saving. She made a conscious decision to cuckold me instead of the original plan of having me fuck her with him. This time, she told HIM to keep it quiet, and she would call him with the right day and time.

I stopped the video, and looked up to see Dani looking at me with tears in her eyes and a disgusted look on her face that probably mirrored my own disgust. The guy was a serial seducer. A real Lothario. That made sense with his password on the computer, at least.

"I'm hitting this son of a bitch with a legal warhead so fuckin' big, he's going to wish he'd never been born." I vowed in a calm voice before God and Dani.

"I'm with you on that one, Boss." She said as she sat on the edge of my desk. "It seems that the longer video sets are more challenging. If it makes you feel any better, all the others are fewer than Sammie's. She held out the longest, apparently." She shrugged and gave me a hopeful smile.

"I sorta figure that, since all the ones left on here are shorter than hers. But you just confirmed it. This guy makes Machiavelli look like a good guy." I shook my head. "But as far as coercion or brainwashing, he's not guilty on those counts. He just convinces them to do it, and there won't be any harm in it."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. From what I can tell, he's never involved the husband before in their little games. But then, the husband finds out somehow and Divorces his wife. ALL the ones I've checked so far have ended up in Divorce." She listed the names of the women and their ex-husbands.

"Ok. Contact a couple of the exes and find out how they found out about Dr. Dickless seducing their wives. I need to talk to Janine." I shooed her out of the room, then pulled out my cell and called Janine's phone.

"Hello?"

"Janine, it's Nick." I said in a tight voice.

"Oh, Nick! Thank you for calling! Are you going to start your investigation today?" She asked.

"I've completed it, actually. You were more correct than you know. Is there any way you can come to my house either tonight or tomorrow? There are some things we need to discuss of a personal as well as professional nature. Don't get me wrong. I'm not hitting on you, but this case has hit a bit close to home for me." I explained.

"Care to elaborate on that, Nick?" She inquired.

"Not over the phone, ma'am. Either tonight or tomorrow morning would be best. My assistant Dani will be here with us, since she has some info to share with you as well." I told her.

"What's your address?"

I gave her my address, and she said she would be here in ten minutes.

Eleven minutes later, I heard a car in the driveway. I checked, and she'd driven a nice Jaguar XJ-6. I opened the door for her, and Dani brought her coffee while I went and got mine and Dani's laptops. I set both of them up on the coffee table and Dani and I sat on either side of Janine as I started to explain things.

"Janine, Dennis is a serial cheater who uses his position of professional authority and trust to seduce women and cuckold their husbands behind their backs." I said.

"From what we've seen so far, he ONLY goes after married women. There are no single women in these videos." Dani added.

"Now, each video series chronicles a seduction. He gains their trust, then talks about fantasies or problems in their marriages. He uses this information to seduce them and make them do exactly what he wants them to do. He doesn't coerce or brainwash his victims, but he's a serial offender, as you can see." I said, showing her all the series of videos. She gasped at how many there were.

"How the hell could he have kept this a secret?!" She screamed, her face turning beet red with rage.

"Janine, stay calm please. There's more." I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"More?!" She looked at me like I had just fallen off another planet.

"Yes, ma'am. As I said on the phone, this one hit really close to home for me. You see, my wife was his latest conquest." I showed her the name Samantha Carter on the video series I highlighted.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Nick!" Janine hugged me tight. "He's going to pay for this! Be sure of that. He's going to pay through the goddamn bleeding ass I'm going to give him for this shit!"

"Janine, how much is your husband worth, monetarily? I will be filing Alienation of Affection and Malpractice against him." I said. "Don't worry. I'll introduce you to the best damn Divorce Attorney in California. Wes will take good care of you and get you as much as possible."

Janine laughed. "Oh, honey. Dennis is worth over 250 million, including his properties around the world. He has a lucrative practice, his books are bestsellers, and he's been on Doctor Phil as a guest several times. The majority of his money was made from his books, though."

"Ok. What I propose is we hit him with a blitzkrieg. We hit him hard and fast. But it's going to take probably a few days to set up. Do you trust us?" I asked her, indicating me and Dani.

"Yes." She said. "You've lost a lot too, Nick. I'm sorry for that. I should have seen what a snake he was before this!"

"I understand. Come by my office in the morning, and I'll introduce you to Wes. He's my Attorney, and will be handling my Divorce from Samantha, as well as my suits against your husband. But by Friday, we hope to have some other ex-husbands onboard to file suits against him for Malpractice and Alienation of Affection as well." I laid out my plan to her, and she was nodding and smiling by the time I was done.

"I can go along with that. The problem is going to be acting normal around him for two more days. I can claim female problems, or just go out of town to visit my mother. She's old, so he would probably buy that." Janine nodded.




A Detective Story



"True, he's trained to spot differences in mood or behavior. My advice is to get ahold of your mother, tell her what's going on, and have her cover for you. Meanwhile, I have a guestroom here with a queen sized bed in it, and room for two more cars in my garage." I smiled. So far, only my car and Dani's car were in there. I handed her a remote for the garage door, and she accepted gratefully. She went home to pack.

Dani also went home to pack. She packed a whole week's worth of clothes and came back half an hour later. I chuckled as she hauled her stuff into my room and put it in Sammie's old dresser. The girl is determined, I'll give her that!

The next morning, Janine got back just as I got out of bed after another great night's sleep with Dani by my side. She was now wearing an oversized t-shirt of mine and panties to sleep in, for which I was grateful. I was wearing boxers and pajama pants, and a t-shirt as well. Dani was in the shower when I heard the garage door going up.

Janine looked great, and gave me a sympathetic hug and kiss on the cheek when I went to meet her as soon as she came inside. She had a small suitcase with her with a couple changes of clothes inside. She also brought me bank statements for Denny boy's accounts, and I gawked at how much he had in liquid assets!

When Dani had cooked breakfast for us all, and we'd eaten another great meal, Janine told us that she was ready to move forward. I told her that we would be able to move once every ex husband and wife were notified of the most recent developments. We had 11 ex-husbands to call, and then informed them to call their ex-wives and inform them of what was going down. We were going to file separate lawsuits against Dr. Dumptruck for Malpractice and Alienation of Affection, and they were more than welcome to join us. Not surprisingly, most of the husbands were more than ready to get some payback on Asshole, and even a good majority of the ex-wives were chomping at the bit. I wasn't about to get Sammie in on it, though. Not after seeing the last video.

I showed up at Wes's office along with 9 out of the 11 ex-husbands we'd been able to contact, and all 9 ex-wives. Since I was ex-husband #12, I would be in on it.

Wes, to save time, drew up identical A of A and Malpractice papers, and just put different names in there, depending on who was in line. He was like a kid in a candy store, with well over 175 mill in liquid assets from Dr. Dumbfuck, and almost 100 mill in properties around the world that would most probably have to be liquidated to pay for the Malpractice, Divorce, and A of A suits. Sure, a Class Action would have been simpler all around, but we were going for shock value on this one. I wanted Dr. Dennis "The Menace" Linder to know his world was about to come a-tumbling down around him like the Walls of fuckin' Jericho.

Janine was waiting with Dani and me at the end of the line while Wes happily helped his new throng of customers to make an Asshole's life miserable, and get rich while doing it. Yes, he's a good buddy of mine, but he's STILL an Attorney.

When he was finally done printing out Malpractice and A of A paperwork for his new clients, and sent them on their merry way with the promise that he would have them delivered to Dr. Dingus at work, bright and early Monday morning with plenty of witnesses, it was Janine's and my turn. I filed for Divorce from Samantha, and Janine filed for Divorce from her soon-to-be-very-poor soon-to-be-ex-hubby. Wes was taken with Janine immediately, and it seemed the attraction was mutual. 

I set it up with Wes for each client's stuff to be delivered by a different process server all at the same time. Wes, Janine, and Dani all joined me in grinning like skeletons at that one. He was about to be overrun, come Monday morning, and Dani and I, along with Janine, were going to have a front row seat. As a bonus, Wes threw in a Restraining order against Dr. Duckfucker for free for each of us, his clients. He knew how rich he was going to be once all the fallout had settled around this mass nuclear strike.

Then it was time for Phase II.

Phase II involved Media and Law Enforcement saturation. I used Sammie's videos, blotting out her face and changing her voice to a computer blurb, blotting out all mention of her or my names, all using a new media editor program I'd bought. I spliced together segments from different videos, showing how Dr. Dennis Linder made a habit of seducing women away from happy marriages, or marriages that had the possibility to be happy again after his "therapy", but he had seen the need to ruin said marriages for his own twisted ego. I used segments from the videos of the other women too, showing how they had all been manipulated into turning against their husbands at Linder's urging. I knew the News media would eat this one up.

The FBI would get involved for criminal Malpractice, since he was ripping men off and having sex with their wives. 

The California Board of Psychology was also going to take an interest in this one. I had a dummy account email account set up for this, and used proxy servers so I couldn't be traced.

Phase II started Monday morning, just after the Process Servers had done their job. As the last Process server left, I handed Janine the popcorn bucket, and she was munching some popcorn as Denny boy came running out the front of his office, looking around wildly. He saw me, standing next to his soon-to-be Ex along with Dani. I held up my cellphone, hit the Send button on the Mass Email Delivery, and initiated Phase II.

We got in my car and drove away as Dr. Dicked screamed at us incoherently that he was going to kill us all. The last I saw of him that day, he was kneeling in the parking lot, a whole shitload of paperwork in his hands, and he was crying his eyes out.

My Vengeance wasn't over by half!

Phase III involved a sit-down with Samantha, which she agreed to do. She had been staying with her folks, and was about to find out that she wouldn't be able to stay there anymore, unless she was REALLY lucky.

We met in a very public place. Starbucks. Gotta love it.

"I'm here. Does this mean you want to talk?" She asked hopefully as she sat across from me.

"As a matter of fact, I do need to tell you something." I said with a smile. "Samantha, I would have been able to forgive you just about anything, if you had been coerced or brainwashed by that Asshole. I'm not kidding. But after watching 16 hours of you going along with EVERYTHING he said, even with your protestations, you, in the end, SUGGESTED cuckolding me to live out your domination fantasy. That, I cannot forgive or forget." I shook my head slowly. "Sammie, I would have done damn near anything for you. I loved you more than you can possibly know. Loved, as in past tense. I would have given my life for you, until I saw that betrayal. That ultimate betrayal of everything we meant to each other. I'm sorry, Samantha. But you've been served." I slid the Divorce papers across to her. "I think you'll find it fair, considering."

She looked at the paperwork in shock. "You're kidding! I wasn't in my right mind, baby! Please, you have to believe me!" She panicked, and then I let the other boot drop. 

"If I were you, I would think of something to tell your parents, Samantha. Something tells me that they just got an anonymous Email showing them what kind of a daughter they raised." I stood and walked out, leaving her in stunned silence.

Wes asked Janine out, and she had accepted. I vouched for his integrity, such as it is. When she asked about that, I said "He's a Divorce Lawyer." I shrugged.

"Then I'll just have to keep my eye on him." She grinned.

"But seriously, he's a good guy. I wouldn't work with him if he wasn't." I said, easing up on my friend.

The next day, Wes called me and told me that Sammie and her lawyer were there and wanted to talk. I agreed, and drove over with Dani with me for moral support.

"Ok, I'm here." I said as I sat down opposite Sammie and her Lawyer, who looked a bit like Gloria Allred, and Dani sat with me and Wes.

"Mr. Carter, I'm Jean Allbrook. I'm going to be representing your wife in this. From what she's told me, you have destroyed her utterly, which is why I'm taking her case pro-bono. I will start by saying that these terms are unacceptable." She finished her initial tirade.

"Ms. Allbrook, let me point out that I have enough evidence to sway any judge and jury in the world to my point of view. It shows my soon-to-be ex there plotting with her lover to cuckold me. It was HER suggestion, even. For the record, I am not into that lifestyle, nor will I ever be. Under those circumstances, I believe my proposal is MORE than adequate." I finished, sitting back.

"And where is this evidence?" Allred Jr. asked.

Wes, God Bless him, started the DVD he'd burned of the last two sessions between Samantha and The Good Doctor. He also had the recording from my Pocket Recorder and the video from my iPhone on the DVD as well. The video showed them planning it all, where she would play the confused and helpless victim who just wanted to explore her sexuality, and Dr. Linder coaxing her on. It then cut to my own Recorder as I came in and found them together. Then the iPhone video of them fucking on our marital bed. Then me pulling him off of her and throwing him to the floor.

"I have the rest if you want it." Wes said with a shit eating grin. "Just say the word, and I'll make copies of everything for you."

Gloria Jr. looked like she would rather be anywhere else but there at that moment. She looked at the proposal that I'd had Wes draw up. It was actually pretty fair, considering the shit she'd put me through. She would get 75K and her car paid off. She would get her belongings, to be picked up at my discretion, and she would be given an apartment, paid for by me, for an entire year. No children, so no child support. No Alimony, though. That, I had refused. No way was I going to pay her until she got married again! But the Apartment was at least a nice one.

After consulting with Samantha, Gloria's younger clone looked at me. "We'll take it, Mr. Carter."

"Good call." I smiled. We all signed on the dotted lines, Jean notarized it, and it would be brought before a judge in 30 days. 

Those thirty days dragged by so fuckin' slow, I wanted to rip my hair out! Every day, Dani and I would make out like teenagers, but I still couldn't go all the way with her. I wanted to like you would not believe, but I was being stubborn, or some would say stupid. By the end, I was leaning more toward stupid, myself.

Finally, our court date arrived! We'd had no cases since the Linder Case, so it had been maddening waiting for the hours to tick away until we could officially be together.

When the Judge banged his gavel, I took Dani into my arms and kissed her until our toes curled. Sammie came up to us as we broke apart.

"I'm sorry, Nick. For whatever that's worth. I screwed up the best thing I ever had." She had tears in her eyes as she looked at Dani. "Dani, please take care of him, and don't be stupid like I was."

"Sammie, I've been in love with Nick since I first laid eyes on him. I kept my distance, since he loved you with everything he had. I kept my distance because you were my friend too. You're both my friends, but when you did what you did to him, I couldn't stand by any longer. I'm not sorry, either. I love this man, and I promise you I will take care of him for the rest of our lives." Dani surprised me with that one too. But she REALLY surprised Sammie, and hugged her friend tightly.

Dani had moved in with me during that thirty day wait. It had been something to do while we were waiting for my stupidity to either falter, or the Divorce to go through.

So when we got home that day from Court, I pulled off my old wedding ring and threw it on the coffee table before picking Dani up and carrying her to our bedroom.

"Oooh, papi!" She giggled as I threw her on the bed and stripped down in record time. She was stripping too, which didn't take long. In anticipation, she had worn no panties under her sundress, and no bra either, as it turned out. She threw the sundress to the side, revealing her voluptuous body.

"Damn, baby." I sighed as I drank in the beautiful sight. I was hard as steel for her, and she noticed it as she reached out and pulled me towards her by my cock.

"Mmmm, so big and hard for me, papi..." She engulfed my cock with her warm wet mouth, sucking lovingly up and down my shaft.

"Oh God, Dani baby." I moaned as she sucked me deep, taking all of me in her mouth and down her throat.

"Mmmmmmmmm" She moaned around my cock, causing me to get even harder in her mouth, if that were possible. She bobbed her head faster and faster, giving me the best blowjob I've ever had.

"Gonna come." I managed between gritted teeth. Reacting quickly, Dani pinched me off at the base, and I groaned.

"Not yet, papi. I want that hot cum inside mi coño." She was begging for my cum in her pussy!

"God yes." I said, the lust in my voice as she laid back and spread her thighs wide for me. Before I fucked her, though, I needed to taste her. I dove downward and attacked her pussy with my tongue. She tasted magnificent, and I licked her deeper as I rubbed her little clit with my thumb.

"FUCK!" She screamed as she came without warning. I sucked her clit as she came, drinking down her sweet juices. When I came up for air after she finished coming, she gazed at me with lust filled eyes.

"¡Pon esa gran polla en mi coño!" She demanded. Who the fuck was I to say No to an invitation like that! She wanted my big cock in her pussy, I was going to give it to her. I'd waited too long already!

As I plunged into her tight wet cunt, I leaned down and kissed her hard and long, our tongues dueling each other as I fucked her hard. Her legs were wrapped around my back, holding me in position to buck my hips back and forth, thrusting deep up into her each time. She was cursing again in Spanish as we kept fucking, her calling out for God, over and over as I fucked her like she was built for it!

"Go on, papi!" She exclaimed. "Come inside mi coño! Gimme that hot fuckin' cum! Make me a mami for our bebés!" She demanded, and I unleashed my seed deep into her fertile womb.

It was two and a half years before all the fallout had settled from my Nuclear Strike on Dr. Dennis Linder, and a lot of people felt the fallout in one way or another. Several couples that had been split by the Asshole's actions ended up reconciling and remarrying after receiving their settlements from their A of A and Malpractice suits. Ok. Good for them. 

I heard from Samantha shortly after all the Malpractice suits and A of A suits went to trial against Dr. Diptard. Anyway, Samantha now lives in Vegas and became a Dominatrix. Seems right up her alley with the shit that Linder had opened up in her psyche. Her parents still aren't speaking to her, thanks to my surgical strike against her by sending them the video of her and her lover plotting against me. Oh, well. She brought it on herself.

After Janine divorced him, of which she got WELL over half, all the criminal charges came down on ol' Denny boy like a ton of bricks. He pled out to what he could, but lost his license and after all the suits were over, had to file bankruptcy. That didn't stop all those he'd wronged from getting their due rewards, however. It just delayed it a little.

Someone who shall remain nameless paid the Good Doctor a visit one night before his criminal trials started. Whoever that person was, beat Dr. Douchebag so badly, he had to be hospitalized for a few weeks. He had both knees broken, both arms broken, and both of his balls had been ruptured. As to how I know all this... Well, ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go clean my old aluminum Baseball Bat.

Wes and Janine dated for six months, and hit it off so well, they got married with me as Best Man and Dani as Maid of Honor. Wes made enough from all the lawsuits to retire, and they plan on spending their Golden Years together.

The Trial was pretty much open and shut, since Dr. Douchefuck's attorney couldn't get the video evidence suppressed of how Assholio had seduced all those women. He was convicted on all counts. 

And when Denny boy got to prison, he lasted all of two days before the guards found him swinging in his cell. It seems that he had fallen so hard, so fast, he actually hanged himself rather than face the trainwreck his life had become. Good. One less burden on society. The Asshole, who had ruined so many lives, was now literally at the end of his rope. Fitting, if you ask me. With his demise, and since he never changed his will, Janine was only too happy to use her large inherited amount of funds to settle with those whose lives her now deceased ex-hubby had ruined.

As for Dani and I, we made out like fat cats from my lawsuits. 15 million, all told. "15 MILLION DOLLARS!" I had said as I placed my pinky to the side of my mouth.

We're retired now too, and raising our two children. Our son, Nicholas, since Dani insisted on giving him a FULL name, which of course I agreed with immediately, is already a handful, and about to start Pre-school next year. Isabel, our daughter, is the sweetest baby I've ever seen.

We're happy now. That case, my Last Case, was a mixed bag for me, but turned out all right in...



The End.