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But is it Immoral? Ch. 01

By: laptopwriter



Prologue:

Since the request for a sequel to, "It's Against the Law," was so overwhelming, I decided to go for it. I know from your emails, some of you will be disappointed as to how this story unfolds but I have to stay true to the characters as I created them.

Also, where its predecessor dabbled with bondage as a light, underlining theme, this first chapter deals with the subject in a much more violent manner; it is not my usual style but I felt it was necessary for the development of the story.

I do hope everyone enjoys this story as much as they did the original. Although I believe this story will stand on its own, if you haven't read the original I would encourage you do so. It might help you understand this one a little better.

Thanks again. 

*

As they left Dalton looked over his shoulder at Jean who still had a shocked look on her face. "You should have asked, Jean; you should have asked," he told her.

Suddenly her stomach twisted in knots; she felt her gastric acids forcing their way up her esophagus; she leaned over and the foul tasting yellow and green slime spewed from her mouth and nose, burning her senses as it splattered with disgust, soaking into the concrete sidewalk.

Terrified that they heard the repulsive sounds of her retching Jean looked in their direction, but they had already walked far enough away that she was saved from humiliation. She stood while grabbing a tissue from her purse and made a hasty retreat in the direction of her apartment.

Never, in the four years since their divorce, had Jean felt such a sense of loss; all this time the only thing that had kept her from losing it entirely was the knowledge, that had she and Dalton stayed together, she would have never been able to explore her sexually submissive nature; at least that's what she kept telling herself. It was a tiny consolation for losing the man she loved but she needed it, it was all she had left. 

She ran toward the sanctuary of her flat, almost hysterical in her grief since seeing her ex-husband with his new wife...his new, 'submissive' wife! 'You should have asked,' he told her, shattering the myth to which she clung. 

How; how could she ask? Dalton was her white knight, her King Arthur, her Robin Hood, and she was his Maid Marian. How could she have taken a chance on destroying that image; at the time she tried to bring herself to talk to him but just couldn't. When Irv, a co-worker, suggested they try a few little bondage games together it seemed like the perfect solution; what could it hurt, they weren't really going to do anything and there was no way Dalton would ever find out. 

It started out so innocent, the first few times they didn't even take their clothes off; it was fun, she felt so naughty. Then they got a little more daring and the next thing Jean knew she was tied up in just her bra and panties while Irv was feeling her up and fingering her to an orgasm. She was helpless to stop him; that was the point; it was thrilling and oh so erotic. As time went on Irv became more aggressive, and she let him.

Then came the day her life stopped. For the first time since starting their innocent bondage games she'd agreed to be blindfolded and tied to the bed naked; she reveled in her vulnerability as clamps were tightly attached to her nipples; she writhed with wicked delight as the phallic shaped vibrator was pushed into her defenseless pussy. On top of that she was going to allow Irv to, 'force' himself in her mouth. That's when all hell broke loose; until her dying day, her heart will break all over again whenever she remembers the two words Irv spoke that day in the motel room; the two words that ended her world...'It's Dalton.' 

Jean rushed inside slamming the door behind her then slumped to the floor hugging her knees to her chest and cried. 

***

What; what was happening? Jean was in a fog, her mind was groggy; where was she; what time was it? What was that noise, that ringing...her phone; she realized the ringing noise must be her phone. 

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and noticed she was still in her clothes from the day before; she blinked trying to clear the dried remnants of tears from her eyes, that's when things started coming back to her. The last thing she remembered was sitting with her back against the door and crying but she must have flopped down on the bed then cried herself to sleep. 

Oh shit, did she sleep all night; what day was it, she wondered? She searched for her cell and found it still in her jean's pocket, the same jeans she was wearing when she saw 'them.'

"Hello," she uttered weakly.

"Jean, are you okay?" came a worried voice from the other end. 

"Yeah, I...I think so, who..." her mind still wasn't working to capacity yet.

"Jean, it's Bel, are you sure you're okay; you don't sound good."

"Ah, yeah, I'm okay, I think I must have fallen asleep, what time is it?"

"It's after ten; everybody's wondering where you are; you didn't even call in, what's going on?" 

Jean was starting to emerge from her daze, she recognized the concern in Bel's voice; she also realized it was Monday morning and she was supposed to have been at work an hour ago.

"Oh shit," she blurted out now aware of her predicament. "Bel, do me a favor, tell Mr. Jacobson I wasn't feeling well this morning but I'm better now and I'll be there by noon, will you please."

"Well, you're in luck there, girl," said Bel, "Mr. Jacobson is out of the office and won't be in until two, so hurry up and get your ass in here."

"I have to grab a shower then I'll be there as quickly as I can," she responded. As Jean disconnected the call the rumbling in her stomach told her she should have something to eat before taking that shower. As she plodded out to the kitchen she recalled more and more from the previous day. She remembered seeing her ex-husband, his new wife, and their newborn daughter as they walked by the park bench where she was sitting. She thought back to their conversation and then she remembered the source of her grief; she remembered seeing the silver choker and recognizing it as a slave collar, a sardonic symbol of the life she could have shared with her loving husband. 

New tears started to form as she scrambled a couple eggs. She condemned herself for being such a fool; she could have had it all if she only had the faith in her husband she should have had and told him of her submissive fantasies. Even if he wasn't interested in participating, she should have known he wouldn't have stopped loving her; only the pain of finding her with another man could do that. 

As the week progressed, Jean tried to find some solace; at least some. For the last couple of years she hadn't been dating at all; not within the BD/SM community or out. She decided she needed to start socializing again. Jean never used her computer at work for anything that wasn't business connected, so she waited until she was home alone before visiting some of the bondage related networking sites she discovered after their divorce; there were two in particular, they were supposedly the best and the only two where she had registered a profile. 

As usual with most females, she found in excess of three hundred emails; most from horny old men looking for an easy lay, but there were also some she felt were legitimate. When she checked the other site she found about the same situation. 

This is going to take a while, she thought, so before wading through the sea of messages in an attempt to select her perfect partner, Jean decided to grab something to eat, and maybe have some wine beforehand.

After an hour or so later she was feeling more content with a full stomach and a slight buzz. She sat down and started to muddle through her daunting task. Most of the messages were quickly eliminated but there were a few that stood out. She wasn't looking for a one night stand or to just play, she was looking for a relationship, or at least a reasonable fact simile. She needed something or someone to take her mind off of Dalton and his new family.

She had singled out four such candidates and took a look at their profiles. One lived over an hour's drive from her but the other three were from the surrounding suburbs. She decided on a little test. On another website she was looking at earlier, she noticed a local 'Slosh,' being held a week from that Friday night. These were usually small, informal, social events for those in the BD/SM life-style, and a good place to meet new people. She wrote the three men she had separated from the pack and told each one she would be there; let's see if they show, she thought. It would be a safe environment and she could get to know them a little before lining up any dates.

The following Sunday she went to her parents for dinner and mentioned seeing Dalton and his wife, Tracy. Her eyes teared up again as she told them how they let her hold their baby. She tried so hard to put on a happy face, but even after all the time that had elapsed, the pain of her loss was written clearly across her face.

"Honey," her mom said as she reached over and laid her hand on top of Jean's, "You're still young, you'll find someone again; someone who will grab your heart and hold on for dear life."

"I don't know, mom; it's already been four years and I haven't found anyone even in the same league as Dalton; I still love him, I think I always will."

"Jean, honey," her dad chimed in, "I love Dalton like a son, but he's not the only fish in the sea; there are others out there, you just have to reel one in, that's all."

Jean nodded her head in agreement, but she knew it wasn't as easy as her dad seemed to think. Maybe she'd find someone next week, she thought; well, hoped really.

As each day of the following week ticked by, Jean found herself getting more excited about Friday night's, 'Slosh.' Toward the middle of the week she again reviewed the profiles of the three men she asked to meet her there. 

She had a good feeling, maybe it was false hope, but it was hope. Thursday, after work, she went shopping for the right outfit to wear. She found a sheer, but not too sheer, black blouse and a short, tight black skirt that asked the question, 'can you handle me?' 

Four inch, black heels she already had; her biggest decision left was whether to wear comfortable underwear or buy something sexy. Who was going to see it, she thought originally, I'll just wear my normal black lace undies; but as she passed by the display window of Victoria's Secret, she changed her mind. I want to feel sexy, I want to feel irresistible, she told herself...sexy it is. Now she was getting wet just thinking about it as she looked for something that would put her in the right mood. She found a pair of black thong panties and a matching half bra. Perfect, she muttered under her breath.

In spite of her excitement, she waited in the parking lot until several people had entered and she knew the party was in full swing before making her entrance. She had only been to one or two of these get-togethers in the past but had a pretty good idea of the kind of competition she would have.

Unfortunately, most of those lingering around and competing for her attentions, were the same people she had ruled out on the websites. She kept looking, hoping to see at least one of the three stand-outs she selected but after the first hour she was giving up hope; Jean decided she would finish her drink and leave.

Just as she drained the last of her white wine she felt someone gently bump her arm, "Here, take this," said the masculine voice from her left. Jean looked over and saw one of the men from the website standing next to her with new glass of wine. Jean hesitated; she always liked getting her own drinks when she was out; in this day and age date rape drugs were just too easily available. She looked up at him but made no move for the drink.

"You're Jean, right?" he asked. 

"That's right, and if I remember correctly, you go by Sir Kevin?"

He smiled in a way that told her she had it right. "Here," he said pushing the drink in front of her, "Take this, it's safe; there's nothing in it except wine," he told her. She cautiously took it from him. "Come on, let's find a place to sit and talk."

Out of the guys she picked out, he was the one she really hoped would show up; he was certainly the most handsome of the three. She learned his real name was Kevin McMichaels and he worked as a service manager for auto dealership. Jean became a little more comfortable as they talked and finally felt confident enough to take her first sip of wine. 

He appeared to be everything she'd hoped for, at least as far as she knew so far. He was tall, probably six-two, and well built; he had thick, sandy blond hair and blue eyes. Once they got the basics out of the way he asked her what she was looking for in a Dom. 

"I'm not really looking for anything full time; ah, wait, let me clarify that, I don't mean I'm not looking for a full-time relationship, I'm just not a full-time slave or anything like that. I just like to feel helpless sometimes, I guess you could call it a rape fantasy, with the emphasis on fantasy," she said with a smile. "I'm not really into pain either, although maybe just a little now and then would be okay."

Kevin sat across the table nodding his head at times and paying close attention as Jean explained her desires. "Have you had any long-term relationships; I mean as far as an alternative life-style kind of thing?" he asked.

"No, well...when I first started experimenting but that turned out to be a disaster," she said with a sad expression. "Years ago I started experimenting with someone; we played bondage games for several months but it ended badly."

"Who ended it; you or him?"

"My husband, actually; he caught us together." Jean wasn't sure why she was being so open with a perfect stranger, maybe it was because she was hoping so badly that something would develop and she didn't want a new relationship to start with secrets between them. 

"I see," he said sternly, "so I'm guessing you're divorced then?"

"Yes, for the last four years," she confirmed.

"Jean, if we did get together for any kind of relationship I wouldn't tolerate any cheating..."

"Oh no," she interjected, "Believe me, I've learned my lesson; I would never do that again," she stated. 

There was a slight lull in the conversation; Kevin stared at her while thinking over what she said. "You're an extremely pretty woman, Jean," he said finally. 

"Thank you, Kevin," she replied blushing just a little.

"Do you have any tattoos or piercings?"

"No, I don't really go in for that," responded Jean.

"Good, there's nothing worse than getting a woman's clothes off only to find a tattoo on her ass saying, 'property of mad max,' he told her with a chuckle. 

Jean was really getting to like him. So many guys at those functions would try to get into a woman's pants right away, or try to impress her with how dominant they could be, but Kevin seemed confident, sure of himself, but not overbearing; he was obviously intelligent and had a good sense of humor.

"Excuse me, Kevin, I have to visit the little girls room," she said standing up with a smile. 

After Jean had completed her business in the bathroom she stood in front of the mirror primping a little; a heavy set woman who was dressed in more traditional, 'slave's,' clothing walked up beside her to wash her hands. "Be careful of the guy you're sitting with," she said looking at Jean's reflection in the mirror.

"Who, you mean Kevin?"

"Yeah, Kevin; he can be a mean one, real mean," she replied. 

"He seems pretty nice to me," Jean responded a little defensively.

"Okay, honey; don't say I didn't warn you." With that the heavy set woman with tattoos up and down her arm walked out, leaving Jean to think about what she said.

Jealously, Jean said to herself, it's everywhere. Still...now she was starting to wonder, a small shiver went up her spine. Damn she hated all this dating and socializing crap; she wasn't a kid anymore. Oh how she longed for Dalton.

Jean looked like she about to cry when sat back down. "Hey, what's going on; what's the matter?" Kevin asked.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about something that made me sad, that's all," she said taking a tissue and wiping her eyes.

"Well, maybe I can cheer you up a little. It's getting a little late to do anything tonight, but how about dinner tomorrow night, say seven o'clock; I'll pick you up," he told her with a smile. 

Jean was apprehensive; she could still hear the words of that woman in the washroom. Did she have an agenda of some kind; why would she lie? Jean tried to study his eyes; they say they're the window to the soul; what kind of a soul did he have; she didn't know, he seemed nice but she just couldn't tell? She decided to error on the side of caution.

"Ah, that sounds like fun, I'd love it, but I have some things to do after work so why don't I meet you there," she responded. "Did you have a place in mind?"

Kevin's wide, friendly smile made her wonder if she was being too cautious; then she noticed the woman from the washroom looking her way and shaking her head, and once again she felt a small cringe in the pit of her stomach. 

All day Saturday Jean spent her time wondering, worrying if she did the right thing; that woman's warning still rang in her head. Why would a stranger say something like that to her if it wasn't true? Was it as she originally thought...jealousy? Or maybe she had a grudge against him for some reason, it was too late now; nervously, Jean got ready for her date.

She picked out something sexy, but not overly so; certainly nothing like she wore to the, 'Slosh.' She thought she saw some disappointment in Kevin's face when he greeted her at the restaurant, tough, she thought, it's our first date, what did he expect?

As the night developed it appeared Kevin didn't really expect much; in fact he was a perfect gentleman and by the end of the evening Jean was thoroughly convinced the woman in the washroom was exactly as she expected...jealous; that was the only reason she could think of for her to make such an outlandish comment about Kevin. 

After dinner they talked for a few minutes in the parking lot before he leaned in and gave her a soft, tender kiss goodbye. She felt her heart flutter and her expectations rose considerably as she drove home. 

The next day he called to say what a wonderful time he'd had and asked if he could call back in a couple of days to arrange something for the end of the week; she gladly accepted.

Over the next two weeks Jean couldn't be happier; even though Kevin knew of her submissive tendencies he treated her with consideration and respect. She loved his attentive ways but was beginning to wonder if his gentleman-like qualities would carry through to the bedroom; she hoped they would not. Behind closed doors she wanted to be dominated; told what to do, not asked. She longed to be helplessly bound and forced to endure him ravaging her body, within limits of course. What will he do, she wondered, will he make love to me or will he fuck me hard, taking what is his? She was getting anxious to find out. 

She had known Kevin a full month and during that time he had been nothing but courteous and polite so she had no reservations about having him meet her folks. It was their thirty-fifth anniversary in another week and Jean had a wonderful night planned for them with dinner and dancing; now she also had a date for herself.

As they sat and talked in the restaurant, jean could tell her dad and mom were also impressed with Kevin; only when the two ladies were alone did her mom express any hesitations.

"Kevin seems like a nice man, honey, where did you meet him?" 

Both of Jean's parents knew of her fascination with bondage and that kind of life-style; they didn't approve but she was their daughter so they supported her while at the same time, prayed that she would lose interest in that kind of thing. 


But is it Immoral? Ch. 01



Jean saw no reason to lie to her mother. "I met him at a slosh, mom."

"So he's one of those...what do you call them...Doms?" she asked with an air of disapproval in her voice.

"Yes, mom, although to be honest, he hasn't acted much like a one; hell, he's been more considerate than some of the regular guys I went out with." 

Jean's mom gave a little sigh, "Just be careful, honey; please. I don't trust anyone who likes to abuse women, even if they do enjoy it."

"Mom, I'm not into being abused, it's..."

"I know, honey," her mom interrupted, "You've told me all about it; I still consider it abuse," she said with a slight scowl, "Look, honey, you're my daughter and I love you very much; I just don't want to see you hurt. All I'm saying is, take your time. I know it's been a long time since you've had someone special in your life and I don't want to see you jumping into something until you're sure, that's all."

"Thanks, mom," Jean said as she leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek, "I'll be careful, I promise."

Just then the men returned to the table with everyone's drinks. The rest of the evening couldn't have gone any smoother. After dinner they all went to a dance club where her parents jitterbug moves were envied by the throngs of younger onlookers. 

During a slow dance, Jean couldn't help but smile as she pressed herself against Kevin's chest and took comfort in his strong arms...not to mention the stiff cock that was pushing against her pelvic bone.

That following Wednesday, Kevin took Jean to the show. It wasn't really a movie she would have selected and she would have appreciated a little input instead of simply being told what movie they would see, but this had been the first time he had displayed any dominant behavior of any kind so she wasn't about to complain.

As they sat in the darkened cinema she felt Kevin's hand moving up her thigh; it had been a long time since she'd had sex of any kind; she was definitely ready. 

They were in a public place but she couldn't help herself; Jean moved her hips to meet his invading fingers. She heard Kevin snicker with self-confidence, maybe even arrogance as he felt her wet panties. He turned sideways in his seat, not caring who saw him push her panties aside. 

After several weeks, for the first time, she was seeing a new side to Kevin and she liked it, although she preferred to submit in the bedroom, not a crowded theatre. "Oh, God, not here," she whispered.

Without saying a word he put his free arm around her neck and pulled her face closer to his, then covered her lips with his own. She felt him force his tongue to mingle with her own. 

She knew she shouldn't allow it, but it felt so good to have this powerful man finally take her. She felt his strong hand caressing her pussy; she gasped with a long overdue sense of euphoria as his finger slipped inside of her. Jean lost track of her surroundings as her breathing quickened. Already lost in rapture, Kevin's voice barely penetrated her consciousness as he whispered in her ear, "Is my little slut going to embarrass herself by coming in a crowded theatre?"

"No," she sighed trying to fight against her building orgasm, "Please, don't make me do this," she pled, "Not here."

"Yes, right here," he said softly, "I want you to come for your master, but do it quietly or everyone's going to know," he said continuing to drive his finger in and out of longing pussy with increased force. 

"Jean's breathing was becoming erratic; she was desperately trying to hold back the impending explosion of pent up love juice. 

"Oh," she sighed a little too loudly.

"Shhhhh," Kevin told her with a sadistic laugh.

She couldn't hold back any longer when she felt his hand reach down and pinch her nipple. She cried out, mortified with her ecstasy as she climaxed.

Kevin held his finger up so she could see it coated with her fluids, "Suck it," he told her parting her lips. Still in a state of euphoria, she no longer cared who saw her. She took it in her mouth and worked it like a small cock until it was completely clean. Kevin knew he had her right where he wanted her.

"Hey," whispered the guy sitting in the row of seats behind them; he leaned forward, almost touching the back of their chairs so he wouldn't disturb the others around them, "Why don't you guys get a room and let us watch the movie," he said angrily. 

Kevin looked at the patron from the corner of his eye, "Can she help it if she's a slut?" he said quietly laughing. "I'll tell you what, come on up here and I'll let you feel her up."

Hearing that, an angry woman sitting next to the man also leaned forward, "I'll give you thirty seconds to leave before I call the police," she snapped. 

Obviously his wife, thought Kevin, and she's pissed; probably time to go. 

Jean was still recovering from her sexual high as Kevin took her by the arm and led her up the aisle as everyone stared and snickered at the man and his slut.

By the time they reached the outdoors Jean had fully recovered. "What did you do that for?" she angrily yelled as she pulled her arm from his grasp. "What the hell's wrong with you? All this time you've been a perfect gentleman and then you go and pull something like that; what if there was someone in there who knows me?"

"Calm down," he said in a stern voice, "I was just having a little fun; no harm done."

"Look," she said still perturbed, "When I said I was submissive I meant in the bedroom, not in public."

"Okay, okay, maybe I did go a little overboard, but you can't tell me you didn't have fun; have you ever done anything like that before?"

"No, and I don't intend on doing anything like that again, either," she said looking into his big blue eyes. She did have to admit, but only to herself, it was kind of fun.

"Alright," he said in a condescending manner, "From now on I'll save the Dom stuff for the bedroom...deal?" he said holding out his hand.

She smiled, "Deal," she said with a single pump handshake.

Kevin gripped her firmly and pulled her into his chest; "But right now you owe me, I got you off, now it's your turn. Come on, you can give me a nice blow job in the back seat of my car where no one will see us."

All kinds of thoughts raced through Jean's head as she accompanied him through the parking lot. What happened? Where did her polite, chivalrous boyfriend go, and who was this forceful Dom taking his place? She wasn't sure she liked this new turn of events; it was a little scary. Still...she was excited; more so than she'd been in a very long time. She could feel the moisture between her legs with every step, she was literally sopping.

Jean was so preoccupied in her thoughts she didn't even realize they had arrived at Kevin's car until she heard him open the door.

"Come on, crawl in there and kneel on the floor so no one sees you." 

She passively did as she was told; it was fun.

Kevin slid in next and closed the door. He undid his pants then lifted his hips and pulled them and his shorts down at the same time. Jean watched as his manhood sprang to life. 

"There it is, babe; from now on my cock is your God and you will worship it as such; understand? 

"Yes," she said looking up at her new Dom.

"Yes what?" he snapped.

"Yes, Sir Kevin," she said remembering what he wanted to be called from his website profile.

"Okay, get busy."

Jean leaned forward and took a long, slow lick from his balls, all the way up the shaft.

"Oh yeah," he sighed. Just as she started to tongue him again he told her to stop. "Wait a minute," he said removing his belt. "Put your arms behind you," he demanded, then looped his belt around her upper arms above the elbow and pulled them together.

This was it, this was exactly the kind of treatment she craved; yes, she told herself, I think I may have found my man. 

Now, with her arms secured behind her, she proceeded giving, "Sir Kevin," the best damn blow job he ever had. 

"Oh yeah," he said sucking in air between his teeth, "I'm going to come; don't you dare miss a drop," he said just as he erupted inside her mouth. Jean reveled in her cock worship as she swallowed as quickly as she could.

"Not bad," he praised while still breathing a little hard, "Yeah, not bad at all."

"Thank you, Sir Kevin," she said meekly while still playing the game of submission.

"Okay, it's getting late and I have to get up for work tomorrow but I'll pick you up Friday night at seven; I think it's time we advance to the next level, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied again.

"Good, then Friday night we go straight to my place," he told her.

For the next couple of days jean was confused. On the one hand she really liked the well-mannered, respectful Kevin she had dated for the first few weeks; but on the other hand she got wet just thinking about the dominant Kevin from the other night, although he did go overboard with that stunt in the theatre; that she didn't like at all. She'd have to make it very clear to him that she wouldn't tolerate any more public displays; her fantasies were for the bedroom and behind closed doors and that's the way it will stay, she told herself.

By the time Friday rolled around Jean had set some hard ground rules she would discuss with Kevin before going any further. When he picked her up that night Kevin seemed a little moody in the car so she decided to wait until they reached his place before talking. She was sure she was in for a memorable evening. 

She envisioned the two of them snuggling on the couch. She could feel the warmth and comfort of his strong arms holding her while they smooched and played tongue tag. To the side of his bed would be a bottle of wine chilling in a carafe. When the time was right they would go over her rules for the bedroom, then he would tie her up and make love to her body...slowly...sensually. Yes, she had it all worked out and she was looking forward to it.

"Okay, bitch, strip!" he ordered her as he closed the door to his apartment and threw the dead bolt. 

Jean turned around and faced him with anger in her eyes; this was not what she wanted at all. 

"Just hold on there, buster," she protested, "I..."

Kevin roughly grabbed her arm. "Shut up and strip," he ordered again.

Jean pulled away from him and let out an exasperating gasp as she defiantly stood her ground staring at him in revolt. She recalled the woman's warning in the washroom the night they met. Could she have been right all along? 

"I don't think so," she said making a move for the door.

Kevin grabbed her around the shoulders and pushed her backwards almost making her lose her footing; a backhand to her cheek completed the process and she tumbled backward, painfully landing on the couch. 

She looked up at him in shock; he could read the panic written in her face. It was just what he wanted to see.

"If you're not out of those clothes by the time I count to three I'm going to rip them to shreds and you can walk home bare ass naked after I'm done with you," he growled. 

Tears welled up in her eyes as Jean hurriedly started to undress.

"That's better," snarled Kevin, "Don't ever make me have to repeat myself again."

Quickly she removed her clothing; her naked body trembled with fright as she stood before him. 

Kevin was very proud of himself; with a just a little research he knew exactly how he was going to control her; yeah, he had lots of plans for his little bitch, he might even turn her out when he was done with her himself.

"Get down on your knees," he ordered pointing to the floor.

Jean couldn't believe this was happening; she had dreamed of submitting but not like this; this was not fun at all. She prayed he would not do her any real harm; she had already made up her mind she would obey in hopes of not antagonizing him again; but as soon as she was free she would go to the cops and have this asshole arrested. 

She dropped to her knees.

"Now, crawl over here; I want you to unzip my pants and take out my cock. I want the best damn blow job you've ever given."

Jean's hands trembled and she could taste her own tears as she followed his orders. She pulled his zipper down and started to reach in his pants...

"No, pulled them down, stupid; like the other night. You think I want the zipper rubbing against my cock?" he admonished. 

She started to do as he asked but did not answer him. He grabbed her hair in the back and yanked back so she was forced to look up at him, "I asked you a question, bitch, did you hear me?"

"Ye...yes, sir," she answered.

"Well, do you think I want the zipper rubbing against my cock?" he repeated.

"No, sir," she replied in a shaky voice.

"Okay then, next time don't be so stupid."

In spite of her terror, she took him in her mouth and did the best she could. Just as he started to come, he grabbed her hair again and pulled her away so he could spurt his seed over her face. He snickered as he took out his cell phone and took several pictures of her that way. 

When he was done, he picked her up by her arm and marched her into the bedroom. He told her to put her hands behind her back. As she felt the cold steel around her wrists, Jean remember another time when she was in cuffs, that didn't turn out very well either. 

"Please," she begged, "If you let me go now I promise not to say anything to anyone, honest."

Kevin laughed as he forced the now incapacitated woman onto his bed. "You know it's an interesting age we live in today; with the Internet and a little knowledge you can find out almost anything about anybody. Shit, you were easy, all I had to do was Google you. Did you know arrest records were public knowledge?" 

He saw more fear in her eyes. "Yup, I know all about you being arrested for adultery. I even know what you were wearing at the time, nothing but nipple clamps and a vibrator; oh, and handcuffs of course. What are you going to do, go to the cops; hell, they already know you're a pervert; you like it rough, it's on record. It'd be your word against mine; 'But officer, she begged me to whip her like that, she said she got off on it.' Who do think they'd believe?"

Jean started to whimper as she listened. 

"Then there's you ex; what's his name...Dalton? I looked him up too, he's a pretty famous photographer, he has his own business...he even has a book that's out with his photographs. Did you know his wife owns a couple of art galleries in town? I wonder how he would feel about getting dragged into a sex scandal with his ex-wife?"

"Please, please don't do this," Jean cried.

"And if all that doesn't convince you to keep your mouth shut there's always your folks." He saw real terror in her face now. "That's right, that nice older couple I met at the dinner a couple weeks ago. I have friends who are not as nice as me. I wonder how your dad would feel if some of them paid your parents a visit and had their way with your mom right in front of him...I could make that happen with one phone call... even if I'm in jail; and if they said anything guess who suffers, yup, you. You think they'd take that chance? So let's not have any more talk about going to the cops or anyone else, you'll keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you to or else...got it?"

"Yes," she whispered in despair. Jean was beginning to see the hopelessness of her situation and started to bawl. 

"Auuuuu, poor baby," he said sarcastically, "Being in a corner unit, I don't have anyone on the other side of the wall to hear you, but still..." he said getting up and going over to his dresser. "Here," he told her, "open up." 

With tears still flowing down her face, Jean opened her mouth as wide as she could to accommodate the ball gag he forced between her teeth.

"Now, I'm pretty sure I have established the bounds of our relationship, you are my fuck toy, my slave, it's as simple as that. You will do what I say without hesitation; I don't care if we're in the middle of the loop, if I tell you to strip and give the guy on the corner a blow job you'll do it, is that clear?"

Jean's mind couldn't even comprehend what was happening; she only knew she needed to nod her head. 

"That's my good little girl," he said with an evil smirk, "Just to make sure you understand though, I'm going to give you a small sample of what will happen if you cross me or make me mad."

Kevin pushed her down on the bed and straightened her out. She was still crying hard when he turned her over on her stomach and tied her feet together then secured them to the foot of the bedframe. Next he took another piece of rope, made a slipknot in one end, and looped it around her neck. 

As terrified as Jean was, she hadn't feared for her life until then. 

He tied the other end of the noose to the headboard and tightened it until it fit snuggly around her throat. With her hands still cuffed behind her back she was essentially unable to move. 

"Now my little slave, you will learn a lesson in life; never trust anyone," he said with a chuckle. Kevin went to his closet and walked back with a thin wicker rod. He stood on the side of the bed and used it to tap Jean on the ass a few times then lightly rubbed it over her smooth skin as if he was teasing her.

Suddenly a searing pain shot through Jean's body as Kevin struck her with force. She tried to yell but her cries of anguish were silenced by the gag. Hysterically she tried to struggle from the path of further blows but all she accomplished was to make the noose around her neck more snug.

"Careful you don't strangle yourself," he joked as he smashed the implement of torture down on her tender flesh again and again.

Try as she did, it was impossible not to move in the face of such suffering; each time her body spasmed with intolerant misery the tether around her neck drew tighter; she could feel its rough texture biting into her skin as it began to restrict her airway. 

Just as Jean was beginning to believe she would not survive, he stopped. 

"There, now every time you sit down you'll remember who owns you."

He untied the lasso making no mention of the marks it left behind. The same was true of her wrists; she hadn't even realized how she strained against the cuffs while being beaten. They were covered with deep purple bruises. How was she going to explain them she worried? 

"Okay, take off the gag," he demanded. She stood before him, her naked body trembled and she sobbed uncontrollably from the anticipation of more unknown horrors that still awaited her. Kevin reached down and roughly felt her slit, "Shit, you're dry as a bone, what's the matter, I thought this was what you wanted...to be dominated. Well, like it or not that's what you got so you'd better learn to deal with it because I'm going to be fucking you a lot; you stay dry like that and your little pussy is going to be sore as hell," he sneered. 

He was right; over the next thirty hours Kevin abused her sexually, physically, and mentally. At one point he slapped her hard across the face when she didn't submit fast enough. By the time he took her back to her apartment on Sunday Jean's pussy was extremely swollen and inflamed, so were her nipples. She had a black eye, rope burns around her neck, and ugly bruises on her breasts, wrists, thighs, and ass. She could hardly walk from the pain. 

As he left, Kevin told her he wouldn't be able to see her again until the following Friday and reminded her to keep her mouth shut, then kissed her with a smile like any regular boyfriend would. She collapsed as soon as he was out the door and cried for the next hour.

Jean was at a complete loss, she was too scared to think; maybe a nice soothing hot bath would at least calm her nerves; it would certainly relieve some of the pain...or so she thought. In reality the hot water stung as she slipped beneath the surface. She cried out as she submerged the tortured lips of her pussy and could barely sit on the hard porcelain with her beaten and battered butt. 




But is it Immoral? Ch. 01



Finally the pain started to subside and she was able to stretch out and let the relaxing water engulf her entire body. She had to come up with a plan, she thought, there must be something I can do, but the more she tried to think the more she saw no hope of escaping from the clutches of the evil man. 

Later that evening she tried to take her mind off of her situation long enough to fix herself something to eat, all she had since Friday night was some cold pizza. Sleep didn't come very easily to her and the next morning she was still in no shape for work so she called in sick. 

By Tuesday morning her body was recovering from the pain but she still had a lot of discoloration where she had been beaten, especially around her wrists and neck. Most of it she could hide with clothes but she was very concerned about the black eye. She tried covering it with make-up the best she could but she knew it was still visible so she also made up a lie for anyone who asked her about it. 

She picked out a winter blouse with long sleeves and a high collar but she could still see the rope burn around her throat. She thought for a minute then pulled a thin scarf from her drawer and tied it loosely around her neck. Hopefully her co-workers will just think she's trying to start a fashion trend, she deemed.

She got into work a little early hoping she wouldn't have to answer anyone's questions about her appearance. It almost worked too until her best friend, Bel, popped into her office from down the hall. She was one of the few who stuck with her through the divorce.

"Jean, what happened to you eye?" she inquired with concern.

"Oh I hit myself with a cabinet door in the kitchen," she said trying to sound convincing. "The damn thing was stuck so I gave it a yank and it came back and whacked me."

"Geez that must have hurt something terrible; it looks like hell."

"Yeah," she responded forcing a smile, "Thanks for telling me how awful I look." 

It was then she noticed how Jean was dressed. "What the hell?" she almost shrieked, "It's eighty degrees out and you're wearing long sleeves and scarf? What the hell is going on, Jean?"

"Nothing," she replied not too convincingly, "I, ah...I; well I was sick all weekend with the chills and I was just trying to stay warm today, that's all." 

Jean could see the doubt in her friend's face and knew she didn't believe her. Try as she did, Jean couldn't help the fear that she knew was in her eyes; then they started to water...

"Bull shit," Bel said, "Something is wrong; did someone beat you up?"

"No, no," denied Jean emphatically, "No, I...Bel, please just leave me alone right now, please."

It was obvious to Bel something was dreadfully wrong with her friend and she was not going to be dismissed until she got to the bottom of it. She stubbornly pulled a chair up to the side of Jean's desk and sat down.

"Listen, remember me? You know me better than that; I'm not budging from this spot until you tell me what the hell is going on."

Jean didn't know what to do; she was terrified of Kevin; what would happen to her if she told, what would happen to her parents? She buried her face in her hands and started to cry, when she did the sleeves of her blouse rode up her arm and exposed the bruises on her wrists.

"Oh My God! Who did that to you?" she yelled jumping up to take a better look. Bel put two and two together and figured Jean was also hiding something under the scarf. The frightened woman winced with pain as her friend started to remove it. "My God, somebody did a real job on you;" she said examining the rope burn, "I'm not leaving here until you tell me what this is all about, Jean, I mean it," she declared. 

"Bel, you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

"I'll promise no such thing; whoever did this belongs in jail, what the hell's the matter with you?"

"You don't know him, he said he's having me watched; he said if I told anyone he'd send some friends to gang rape my mother right in front of my dad. Bel he's mean, real mean; I'm scared to death." She started to sob.

"Does this have anything to do with that bondage stuff?" 

Jean's eyes widened, she had no idea Bel, or anyone outside of a few people knew of her submissive tendencies.

"Oh don't look so surprised," Bel told her, "I'm married to one of the cops that handled your case for the DA, remember? Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I haven't told a sole."

"Oh, Bel; I'm so ashamed," she said not being able to look her friend in the eye.

"Ashamed, why; lots of people are into that stuff, there's nothing to be ashamed about. Is that what this is all about? Is this guy supposed to be some kind of Dom or something?"

"Yes," she responded nodding her head, "But it's gone way beyond that, this guy just gets off on beating and torturing women. I don't know what to do." 

"Well the first thing is to have him arrested."

"No, no I can't; don't you understand, he's viscous, he means what he says; I have no doubt he'd do exactly what he said," she told Bel almost getting hysterical. 

"Alright, alright calm down; Jean you have to do something, you can't just let him keep doing this to you."

"I know, but what? What can I do?"

"Don't worry, honey; we'll figure out something. What's his name, I'll have Dave do a check on him; maybe he's wanted somewhere; maybe we can get him arrested on something completely unrelated to you." She saw the alarm in Jean's eyes again. "Don't worry, I'll tell Dave the situation, he wouldn't do anything to put you or your parents in jeopardy."

Bell picked her phone up and called her husband, a Cook County officer who was assigned to the DA's office. She relayed the information to him.

"Bel, where did this happen?" he asked.

"In his apartment in Whelling."

"Then she should call over there; tell her to ask for the sexual assault division and fill out a complaint. We can't do anything for her otherwise."

"Can't you run a make on the guy...just see if he's wanted anywhere?" Please." His wife begged. 

"Yeah, I can do that; okay, give me half an hour and I'll call you back," he told her.

"Thanks, honey; I love you," she said kissing the phone.

Bel turned to her friend, "Okay, Dave's going to check for us; in the meantime let's go to lunch."

That sounded good to Jean; she needed to get out of the office for a while and try to relax. The two friends took off for the restaurant around the corner. They had just been served when Dave called back.

"Bel, the guy's squeaky clean; not so much as a parking ticket; if Jean won't sign a complaint our hands are tied."

"Dave, she can't. This guy told her even if he's in jail he can get word to his buddies. If he was picked who knows what he would do to Jean or her parents."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, "I have an idea but Jean might not like it," he finally said...

Continued...



But is it Immoral? Ch. 02



There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, "I have an idea but Jean might not like it," he finally said...

"What's your idea?" she asked.

"Call her ex."

"Who...Dalton; what could he do that you can't?"

"Are you kidding? Dalton has his own little band of marauders there, honey. Dave Wyland and him go way back, and that reporter buddy of his has more angles than an erector set."

"Who's Dave Wyland?" asked Bel.

"He's a sergeant with the Arlington Hills force; he was in on Jean's arrest. Honey, if those three put their heads together I wouldn't want to be the guy they were after."

"Hold on, honey," Bel said looking across the table at her friend. "He says to call Dalton."

Jean's eyes got big as saucers. "No," she said emphatically, "No, I don't want to get him involved, he could get hurt, Bel; absolutely not!"

"Honey," Bel said back into the phone, "she doesn't want to get him involved; she's afraid he'll get hurt."

"Ask her how he's going to feel if something happens to her and he finds out he might have been able to help." Bel had turned the phone on speaker so Jean could hear her husband.

"I don't care," she said. "He has a beautiful wife and new baby...no, I won't get him mixed up in my mess."

Bel could see the bruises on Jean's wrists; she didn't care what her stubborn friend said, something had to be done. "Would you call him?" she asked her hubby.

"Me, yeah I'll call him..."

"No!" he heard Jean scream into the phone.

"Honey, you need help; let Dave call him and just discuss it with him," Bel told her. "Dalton's a big boy, he can take care of himself." Jean held her head down and began to cry. "Dave, call him; tell him Jean's in trouble and just see what he says."

"Will do, honey; in the meantime she needs to find a safe place to stay," he told her.

"What about her folks, them too?"

"Yeah, them too," he sighed, "When is she going to see this guy again, does she know?"

"Yeah, he told her he wouldn't be around until next weekend again."

"Okay, at least that gives us a little time; tell her to hang in there, we won't let anything happen to her or her parents."

When Jean heard him over the speaker she cried from a mixture of fear and relief. The waitress came over to see if everything was okay. Bel explained she just got some good news and she was crying out of happiness. 

Jean really didn't want Dalton involved but she sure would feel better if she knew he would agree to help her; she'd always felt so safe when she was with him.

Dalton was in the middle of shooting photos for a brochure he was producing for one of the larger down town hotels; he was just about to break for lunch when his phone rang.

"Hello, Dalton Conrad," he said not recognizing the number.

"Hi, Dalton, it's Dave Quinn, how are you?"

"Hey, Dave, long time no see; I'm doing good, how about you?"

"Good, thanks; Dalton, Jean is in trouble."

"What do you mean in trouble, what kind of trouble?"

"She's gotten herself mixed up with some guy, and...well, he beat her up, pretty badly from what Bel tells me."

Dalton felt his blood coming to a boil. In his mind there was no bigger coward than a man who hits a woman, any woman! 

"Where is she; is she in the hospital?"

"No, no, he didn't hurt her that bad, she's just pretty well bruised up and sore, she missed work yesterday but she's there today," he reassured Dalton.

"Who is this asshole?" 

"It's some guy she met at one of those bondage meetings, I think they call'em sloshes. Anyway, from what Bel tells me, the guy had been a real gentleman for the first month or so; Jean even took him to dinner with her folks; then he just went off the deep end; he held her captive in his apartment all last weekend. Bel says he tied her up then put a noose around her neck before beating her; Jean said she thought he was going to kill her." 

"SHIT!" Dalton yelled out. He had to take a deep breath and try to calm himself before speaking again. "Are you going to pick that asshole up?"

"I'm afraid it's not that easy, my friend. He made all kinds of threats, not only toward Jean but her parents as well. He has her so terrified she won't sign a complaint. I already checked for any warrants on the guy but he's as clean as a whistle."

"So what do we do? What do you suggest? I suppose I could go over to his place and have a nice friendly talk with him."

"Well actually Jean wants you to stay out of it; she's afraid you'll get hurt, but..."

"She knows me better than that," he retorted angrily. "She knows how I feel about guys who hit women. Where the hell does this guy live?" 

"Well, it might not be that easy..." 

Dave explained that Kevin had threatened Jean, saying he had friends who would beat and rape both her and her parents if anything happened to him or if he went to jail. 

"That's why I thought of calling you; I thought maybe you and that reporter buddy of yours could come up with some way to scare this guy off. I don't know if he really has friends like he said or not, but I don't think we can take a chance. I know Bel wants me to put them all under police protection but I can't do that."

"No, of course not," Dalton replied.

"Okay listen, he told Jean he wouldn't see her again until the weekend so you've a few days to figure something out. Now, if there's anything I can do...within the law that is, I'd be more than happy to help."

"Thanks, Dave, I appreciate that and I appreciate you telling me about this." 

They ended the call. Dalton went down to the hotel's restaurant to grab a bite and thought. As long as she was in no immediate danger he would first talk to his wife before getting implicated in Jean's troubles. He didn't think she would have a problem but he was not going to keep anything from her. 

That night, after putting the baby to bed, Dalton sat down to tell Tracy about his conversation with Dave Quinn. 

"Oh, honey, that's terrible; you have to help her," volunteered Tracy before he even had a chance to ask.

Dalton smiled at his lovely wife. "Thanks, babe, I was hoping you'd feel like that; you won't mind then?"

"Mind? Of course I don't mind; are you kidding, you can't sit by and let that poor girl get beat up, my God that's dreadful."

Dalton leaned in and gently placed a kiss on his wife's lips. "You're something else, you know that? I love you so much," he told her before kissing her again. 

Together they walked up the stairs. When they reached the bedroom Dalton took her in his arms; he stared into her loving eyes and tenderly joined their lips together for the third time, "Don't move a muscle," he whispered in a soft, but controlling voice as he broke the kiss.

Tracy knew what that meant; her heart always beat faster when he used that tone with her, it was not the voice of her loving husband, but that of her loving Master. "Yes, Sir," she breathed. 

Boldly projecting his dominant persona, Dalton slowly unbuttoned the blouse of his love slave. Her body trembled with anticipation as he sensuously removed her clothing, one article at a time. 

"On the bed," he demanded of his naked submissive, "You know the position."

Tracy lay on back with arms and legs spread to the corners of her soon-to-be vehicle of imprisonment. Her breathing became more erratic as her captor secured the soft, velvet ropes to her outstretched limbs. 

"Lift your head for me." 

As she complied he slipped on her blindfold and positioned it over her eyes. He slowly bent down and allowed their lips to touch, ever so lightly. 

Unable to see, Tracy's other senses were heightened. She felt the weight of his body lift from the bed and heard the rustling of what she imagined to be her Master undressing. She could smell the fragrance of her own excitement as she listened for clues and tried to anticipate his next erotic move. 

Barely audible were his steps on the thick carpet as he approached; electric shocks of ecstasy shot through her body as she felt the soft, luxurious fur of her Master's Mink glove caressing her ankle. Tracy moaned with delight as his silky smooth hand traveled a seemingly aimless course up her leg, teasing and soothing along its journey; her body writhed under his touch as he explored every erogenous, sexually charged part of her beautiful skin. Her mind screamed in rapture as the lush splendor of the mitten floated over her sensitive nipples then continued on its circuitous way to the gates of heavenly bliss.

After losing herself in several orgasms there was a short pause before her loving Master's lips replaced his hand; he nipped at her hard nipples. Wave after wave of pleasure wafted over her body. His soft lips roamed the hills and valleys of her nakedness; she cried out with carnal hedonism as his tongue found the entrance to her deliciously wet slit. 

She wanted to beg him to enter her, but he was Master and she knew better than to place demands on him. 

Just when she thought he would drive her totally insane she felt him moving into position; his strong arms straddled her body, she could sense him hovering overhead. Her hips pushed forward to meet the powerful cock that tapped at the entrance to that which was his and his alone. With one smooth stroke he was in; her frenzied screams of passion were all he demanded of his slave. Together they would recommit themselves to the love, respect, and honor they shared. She could feel him stiffen and knew he would join her in another mind-numbing trip to paradise.

Dalton collapsed beside his precious jewel and fought for each breath. After they both regained some semblance of normalcy he walked around releasing Tracy from her bonds. Once free she walked to the bathroom and returned with a warm wash cloth; "May I clean my Lord and Master?" 

When she was done Tracy crawled into bed and snuggled into the nook of her husband's shoulder. As they basked in their mutual love, she had a thought. "Honey, just don't get yourself in trouble, okay?"

"Huh," he said half asleep already.

"When you help Jean, just don't get yourself in trouble."

"I won't, babe; I promise. I'll call Jack in the morning. Together we should be able to come up with some way to get rid of this idiot."

Assured and having all the confidence in the world in her husband, Tracy, feeling safe and secure in his arms, drifted into dreamland.

"Jack Northrupe, please."

"Hold on; Jack, call on line four."

"This is Jack Northrupe, can I help you?"

"Jack, it's Dalton, I'm going your help old buddy."

After finishing up his assignment for the hotel, Dalton met his friend at Plato's Place, their favorite watering hole. Jack Northrupe was an investigative crime reporter for the state's largest newspaper. Through the years he had worked with every law enforcement agency around and was well liked and respect by them all. They'd known one another since the days when Dalton worked for the same paper as a staff photographer years ago. Since then their friendship had only grown stronger.

"So what do you think," asked Dalton after explaining Jean's situation, "I want to just go over there and beat the crap out of the guy but everybody's worried he might actually have some friends that would go after Jean and her parents. Somehow we have to take care of the shit-head without him thinking Jean had anything to do with it."

"I'll say one thing for you, Dalton; you always come up with a challenge. Does Tracy know you're doing this?"

"Oh yeah, we discussed it last night; she's all for it."

"Okay, do you know anything about his habits; his likes and dislikes, in addition to beating up women, I mean?"

"No, not really; Dave Quinn said he ran a check and the guy's clean, no warrants anywhere. That's all I know." 

"How about work, do you know where he works?"

"Well, I know he works as a service manager at some Cadillac dealership but I don't know which one."

"Okay, well that's a start; You said he lives in Whelling, I can't think of a Caddy dealership within ten miles from there so chances are once he leaves his apartment in the morning he probably doesn't get home till later that night. That'll give us a chance to search his place tomorrow, if we're lucky maybe we'll find something we can use against him."

"How are we going to get in without him knowing?"

Jack looked as if Dalton had just insulted him. "Please, you don't think I can pick the lock on an apartment door? Shame on you." 

Dalton smiled, "Sorry, old buddy, I guess I forgot who I was talking to."

"I guess you did," he replied with a big grin. "Can you meet me there early tomorrow morning? Most of those guys have to be at work by seven; I'd like to be in the parking lot about six and watch to make sure he doesn't call in sick or something. Then we'll give him half an hour or so before we go in. So, do you at least know what he looks like?"

"No, but I know what kind of car he drives and it's got dealer plates; it shouldn't be too hard to find."

"I'll see you at six," said Jack throwing back the last swallow of beer.

"I'll be there my friend; thank you so much for this."

At the supper table, Tracy got a little worried when she heard what Jack and her husband were up to. He assured her Jack knew what he was doing. 

The next morning the two would-be burglars didn't have to wait long. They watched as a well-built man got into his Escalade and drove off.

"I checked," Jack mentioned. "The nearest Caddy dealer is twelve miles away; I doubt very much if he'll be home for lunch; we should have plenty of time, a guy like that's got a have something to hide."

They waited long enough to make sure Kevin hadn't forgotten anything. It took Jack about thirty seconds to pick the lock and they were inside. It was a strange feeling for Dalton; he'd never broken into anyone's place before. A little twinge of nerves shot through his body as he looked around. This guy wasn't particularly clean. There were dirty dishes in the sink and a moldy smelling wet towel sloppily hanging over a kitchen chair.

"Okay," said Jack, "You check his computer first. You know how to check for email addresses?"

"Yeah," Dalton responded.

"Alright, while you're doing that I'll check the bedroom. If you go through any drawers or anything, just make sure you put everything back like it was."

"Will do." 

Dalton fired up the computer. Since Kevin lived alone he had no reason to protect anything using passwords, everything was easily accessible. After a while Jack came out to join him. 

"Man, his bedroom's full of all kinds of torturing devises but I really didn't find anything we could use, how about you?"

"Look at this, he takes pictures of his victims," Dalton said showing his friend the computer screen. "Look, here's Jean; look at all the bruises; that mother-fucker; I want a piece of this asshole, Jack."

"I don't know, he looked pretty well built, you sure you could take him?"

"I don't know but I'd sure be willing to give it the old college try," replied Dalton.

"Did you download all that stuff?"

"Yeah, I've got everything on a thumb drive but I don't know what good it'll do us, these women might not even be from around here; I sure don't recognize any of them, they could be from anywhere. How are we going to track them down?"

"I'm not sure that stuff will help but take it just in case, you never know. Come on, let's keep looking," suggested Jack.

After two hours they had come up with nothing more than the pictures they got from his computer. Dalton was getting discouraged. 

"Come on, there's nothing here; let's get out of here before we get caught."

"Hey, Dalton, look at the books this guy reads. You know you can tell a lot about a guy by his taste in literature."

Dalton went over to the small book case to take a look. "They're all about the mafia and organized crime, most of them about Chicago...you don't think this guy's connected do you; those friends he was talking about, you don't suppose..."

"Nah," interjected Jack. "There's no way the cops wouldn't have something on this guy if he was really connected; more than likely he's a wannabe; he probably thinks beating up women makes him out to be some kind of mobster or something."

"Well, as far as I can see, we haven't found a damn thing that's going to help Jean. Come on, let's get out of here. This is Thursday already, I've got to figure a way to get her and her folks out of town before this asshole finds out they're missing."

That afternoon Jean sat at her desk, she was getting nervous again. Bel kept telling her not to worry but she hadn't heard anything from anyone since she spilled the beans on Tuesday. Her mind was in a fog when she got an eerie feeling she was being watched; she looked up and saw the tall figure of the only man she ever loved, frame by her doorway.

"Hi, Jean," he said with a smile.

"Dalton," she whispered almost inaudibly. She wanted to jump into his arms; she wanted to feel the warmth and passion she once knew as his wife, but of course that wouldn't happen...never again would it happen, and she knew it, but seeing him in the doorway brought back so many wonderful memories. "Come on in, can I get you something...coffee?"

"No thanks, I stopped by because your girlfriend's husband called me," he said walking in and sitting down in a chair on the opposite side of her desk. "What I want to know is, why you didn't call me; how come I had to hear you were in trouble from Dave Quinn?"

Jean lowered her eyes, "Dalton, I...I just didn't want my screw up to cause you and Tracy any grief. I already caused you enough."

He sighed, "Jean that's all over with, we're both moving on with our lives, but that doesn't mean I would stand by while some prick uses you for a punching bag; you know better than that."

"That's exactly why...I, um..."

"Okay, forget it," he told her. "Right now we have to figure out a way to get you out of this mess. Jack and I are working on it, but for right now, we need to get you and your parents to a safe place for a while. I talked to your boss; he's agreed to give you next week off. You can take it as vacation and get paid or as leave and not get paid, that's up to you but I want you completely out of sight next week; you and your folks."

Jean was starting to feel better already just knowing Dalton was helping her.

"Now, here's what we're going to do; I want to make this Kevin guy think you and your folks are out of town on a family emergency so he won't go around looking for you; so, I'm going to have your parents call him tomorrow and say they're looking for you. They'll tell him it's a family emergency. A couple hours later you'll call him, supposedly from the airport, and tell him your aunt is dying; you and your parents are flying out to be with her and you're not sure when you'll be back. They'll back you up if he calls here. Everyone's been alerted and will say you had an out of town emergency and they don't know how long you'll be gone. In the meantime you'll be safely tucked away in a hotel. Eric Watts is going to stay with you."

"Who's Eric Watts?" inquired Jean.

"He's the other cop that was with Dave Wyland when you were arrested."

"Oh my God, Dalton, I can't see him again, I'll be so embarrassed," she shrieked. 

"Jean, he's a cop; I'm sure he's seen things since then that are much worse than anything he saw that day, believe me. Besides, he volunteered. He has vacation time coming and he's willing to spend it protecting you and your folks so don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"But," she said shaking her head, "where will we all stay? I don't the money to put everybody up in a motel for a week."

"Don't worry about it, I have it handled. I'm doing a brochure for the Brownstone Hotel, down town. I worked a trade-off; I told them I would shave some off the price in exchange for two rooms. You and your folks have a two bedroom suite on the twelfth floor, Eric will be in the next room and they're adjoining just in case. You also have free food. You can eat in their restaurant and just sign it to the room; that way you don't even have to leave the hotel."




But is it Immoral? Ch. 02



"Oh, Dalton, I can't let you do all this; how will I ever repay..."

"Enough," he snapped. "It's all worked out so don't worry about it." He stood, "Pack up what you're going to need tonight and bring it with you tomorrow. After work you'll meet me at your folks and they'll make the first call from there, then we're all going to the hotel; you'll make the second call from there after you're all settled in then shut your phone off. The room is reserved under Conrad's Photography so not even the hotel staff will know who's staying there." He turned to leave. "Don't worry, Jean," he said looking back as he reached the door, "we're going to get this guy," he said with a reassuring smile.

Just as he started to leave Bel approached, "Dalton, I assume this means you're going to help Jean?" Without saying a word he smiled, gave her a small kiss on the cheek and walked out.

Bel looked at her smiling friend behind the desk. "Okay, what's going on? I just heard you have a family emergency and won't be in next week; is everything alright?"

"Bel, honey, everything is much better than alright," she said, now grinning.

The next day, after work, Jean was all packed and drove over to her parent's house just as planned. Once they had the luggage loaded in the car and they were ready to go, Jean's mom called Kevin's home phone and left an urgent sounding message on his answering machine before heading out.

"Hello, Kevin, this is Audrey Barnes. We're looking for Jean and wondered if she was with you? If she is would you have her call us right away, please. We have a family emergency. Thank you."

***

There wasn't much that wasn't indelibly etched in Jean's mind from that awful day years ago; she recognized Eric as soon as she saw him waiting in the hotel lobby, even without his uniform. 

Dalton greeted him first. "Hi, Eric," he said as they shook hands, "Man, I want to thank you for doing this; you're a real life-saver."

"Are you kidding; a free week in a luxury hotel like this, who wouldn't volunteer?" He turned toward Jean and noticed the flush in her cheeks, "Hi, Jean," he said extending his hand, "It's nice to see you again." 

Jean bashfully took his hand then introduced him to her parents. A couple bellhops approached with their bags and everyone was shown to their rooms.

Jean's mother looked around with her mouth open. "Oh, Dalton; this is spectacular." Everyone agreed and thanked him again and again as they surveyed the lavishly appointed suite.

Once they were settled in, Jean called Kevin's cell phone. Much to her relief it went to voice mail and she was able to leave a message instead of talking to him personally.

"Kevin, this is Jean; I'm sorry to call you on such short notice but my aunt is dying and I'm flying out with mom and dad to see her before she passes. I'll call you as soon as I get back."

"Perfect," Dalton told her, "Now turn off your phone and leave it off, if I need to contact you I'll call the room." 

Eric was standing next to her and noticed the tears from worry. "Don't fret," he told her in a calm, relaxed voice; "Everything's going to be fine, I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

***

Okay, now what, thought Dalton as we was getting into his car to leave. Just then his phone rang, it was Jack.

"Jack, old buddy, I sure hope you have some good news for me." He heard Jack chuckle a little on the other end; that was a good sign, he wouldn't do that unless he had something up his sleeve.

"Dalton, my friend, how soon can you meet me at Plato's?"

"Ah, well; rush hour traffic should be dying down by now, depending on what the Kennedy looks like, I'm guessing thirty-five, forty minutes."

"I'll see you there." 

Dalton was excited to hear what Jack had in mind as he sat on the stool next to his pal and ordered a beer. "Well?"

Jack slid several photographs in front of him. "See these two guys?"

Dalton looked at the photos. There were various shots taken in different locations during different times of the day, but they were all pictures of the same two guys. In some of the shots they were either together or with someone else, but most of them just showed each guy by himself. "Yeah, who are they?" he asked.

"This," Jack said placing his finger on one of the photos, "is Billy, 'The Button,' Spinozo; he's hit man for the mob out of Detroit, and his partner here," Jack said pointing at one of the other pictures, "is Johnny Iota, also a hit man for the mob."

Now he really had Dalton worried; he wasn't sure just what Jack was leading up to. "You're not going to tell me these are the friends that asshole is talking about."

"No, no, no," Jack quickly replied, "But they're going to play a key role in getting our boy out town...in a hurry...never to return."

"Okay, Jack; I can usually read you, but I'm lost. How the hell are these guys going to help? You planning on having the guy bumped off?"

Jack laughed, "No, nothing quite that drastic, but you're close." Jack took a swig of beer then smiled at his own cleverness. He'd pulled off a few scams here and there, usually in co-operation with some law enforcement agency, but this will be one for the history books. 

"Dalton, do you remember when Sal Dimarco got whacked a couple years ago? His body was found in the trunk of his car at O'Hare."

"Yeah, sure; he was pretty high up the ladder in the Chicago crime syndicate. I remember them finding his body, why?"

"Well, it was never proven, but it's pretty common knowledge that these are the two guys that did it. Tony Dimarco, Sal's brother was so sure, he put a fifty thousand dollar contract out on them; neither of them have been seen since. The Feds aren't sure if someone collected on the contract, or if they left the country."

"Where did you get these shots?" asked Dalton.

"From the Feds; when we saw those books at asshole's apartment yesterday, I got thinking. This morning I went over to the Federal building to see if I could talk them out of some of their surveillance photos and voila."

"Okay, I still don't see how these are going to help Jean."

"My artistic friend, that's where you come in," he told Dalton.

When Dalton got home that night he couldn't contain his glee. He had to share Jack's diabolical plan with his wife. 

"Oh, honey; the guy's going to piss his pants, I love it," she laughed. "Can I help?"

"Well, I'm not sure what you can do, It's kind of a one man project." When he saw the disappointment in her face, he added, "but I'm sure we can find something for you. Come on, we need to study these shots and figure out which ones to use."

Tracy accompanied her husband to his office where they both poured over the surveillance photos, selecting the best candidates for their purpose. He made a copy of the ones he wanted to carry with him.

"Do you think this is enough, just four shots?" asked Tracy.

"Yeah, well there'll be more than just these; Jack is putting together some more stuff on his end as well."

"Just be careful, honey; I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you," Tracy said as she looked into his eyes and kissed her man.

"I'll be careful, babe; I've done this kind of thing with a lot more dangerous characters than this jackass. I know what I doing," he told her to comfort her worries. "I can't do anything until Monday anyway; the weekend is too unpredictable and I'm not spending it sitting in his parking lot wondering if he's ever coming out."

On Monday, while Dalton started to implement his part of Jack's plan, Eric Watts was just stepping into the shower of his luxury hotel room. He couldn't believe he was given such an opportunity. 

The first time Eric saw Jean was over four years ago when they broke into her motel room and arrested her and her lover for Adultery. It was explained to him later, that Jean wanted to experiment with some bondage games; for some reason she was afraid to bring it up to Dalton, who she was married to at the time, so she found a collaborator in one of her co-workers. When Dalton found out he swore out a complaint charging his wife with adultery and named her lover as a co-defendant. When they broke into their motel room Jean's naked body was handcuffed to the bed and blindfolded. 

He'd often thought of her after that. Eric had no interest in bondage but there was something about Jean herself that struck a chord with him. She was so terrified, so vulnerable that day when her world came crashing down around her; even then, he wanted to put his arms around the grief stricken woman and tell her everything would be okay; of course he couldn't; not then anyway, but maybe he'd get another chance. 

Dalton sat in the parking lot of Kevin's apartment house waiting; he'd picked a vantage point that he hoped would give the results he was looking for; he needed some profiles. He had no idea how long it was going to take, but he was hoping to wrap things up fairly quickly. 

He followed Kevin to work and shot more pictures. Before the end of the day, Dalton had taken over three hundred shots of Kevin with a long, telephoto lens. I'm glad Tracy volunteered to help, Dalton thought, it's going to take me half the night to go through all of these. 

As he walked into the house that night, Tracy greeted him at the front door with a big hug and kiss. "How'd it go?" 

"Pretty good," he told her, "I got quite a lot of shots, I'm sure I have some we can match. You haven't changed your mind about helping have you?" 

Tracy smiled and shook her head; she loved working on projects with her husband and something like that would be a lot of fun. 

"Good," he said, "cause I'm going need it."

That night, after dinner and after singing Taylor to sleep with a lullaby, Dalton and Tracy started on their project. After working well into the night they were both disappointed to find, that out of all the shots Dalton had taken, only one could be used. "Well, one down and three to go," Dalton said with a forced smile. 

The next day Dalton learned from his mistakes and was sure he would be able to use more from the day's shoot. About noon his phone rang.

"So how's it coming, buddy?"

"Ah, well I'm getting there, Jack; how about you?"

"I dug around in the paper's archives and hit the mother-load; I've got more than enough to make our friend shit his pants."

"I'll have to tell that to Tracy, she just thinks he's going to piss in them," joked Dalton.

"So how long do you think before you get what we need, do you have anything yet?"

"Yeah, I got one from yesterday but I hope to have the rest by the end of today. Now, it'll still take me a couple of nights to get it all ready though; I doubt we'll be completely ready to go before Thursday."

"And you've got Jean and her folks put up till when...Friday?"

"Yeah, well, until noon Saturday actually. If it goes longer than that I'll have to renegotiate." 

"We should be okay."

They ended their conversation when Kevin left the dealership and took off for a nearby restaurant on foot. By the end of the day Dalton was sure he had enough shots for what he needed; now came the photoshop magic. 

"Oh, honey," Tracy watched in awe as Dalton worked his wizardry, "these are perfect, nobody could tell they weren't the real thing."

Dalton smiled, his wife was absolutely right, they were perfect. "Maybe I'm in the wrong business, huh, I could probably make more money blackmailing people."

"Never you mind," she joked back. "We're doing just fine as it is."

"I'm tired; I'm going to leave the last one till tomorrow. Since I rescheduled my shoots this week, I can stay home with you and Taylor. I'll work on designing the Brownstone brochure and finish this up, then maybe we can all go to the park or something." 

By the end of the day on Wednesday, Dalton was feeling good. He had completed the Brownstone brochure and had it ready for the printer; he and his wife had spent a couple hours playing with Taylor in the park, and he had just finished the last shot for Jack's plan. "Ahhh, Miller time," he said as he stretched out in his chair.

"Can I see," asked Tracy.

"You sure can, my darling."

Tracy closely examined all the photos again. "Ah, maybe you should wait with that Miller, there, hubby."

That caught his attention; he sprung back up in his chair. "Why; what's the matter?"

"Look here, honey," she said pointing to the last shot he worked on, "There's a reflection of this guy back here in the store window but nothing for Kevin."

"Shhhiiitttt," cried Dalton as he flopped back in his chair.

"Maybe he won't notice," she said.

"No, honey, we can't take that chance; these have to be perfect."

"I'm sorry," she said apologetically.

"Oh Geez, don't be sorry, honey; something like that could have blown the whole thing; are you kidding, I owe you big time, babe."

Tracy smiled; she already had a good idea just how she would have him repay her. "Can you fix it?"

"Oh yeah, it's tricky but I can do it," he said.

Tracy watched as he brought the picture back up in photoshop. "Now," he said after some careful manipulation, "we dissolve it until...how's that," he said with a smile as he showed Tracy the screen.

"Damn, honey; that's amazing."

"It's still early; I'm going to call Jack and let him know I'm all ready."

They made arrangements to get together over an early lunch the following day. Jack had everything he needed; since Dalton was done with his part, there was no reason why they couldn't pull the trigger in the afternoon.

Kevin wasn't in the best of moods; he'd had a hard day at work and he still hadn't heard from Jean. All week he'd wondered if her trip was legitimate or just a way to try and avoid him. Either way he was going to teach her a lesson when she got back. She'd think twice before leaving him in the lurch again, he'd make sure of that.

It was after seven-thirty by the time he came stumbling home; he was tired and aggravated; at first he didn't even see the large manila envelope propped up against his computer screen. He had taken a shower, thrown on some casual clothes, and was about to pop a frozen dinner in the microwave when it caught his eye.

"What the hell...?" he mumbled to himself. He walked over and picked up the package like it was about to bite him. It was an eerie feeling to know someone had been in his apartment when he wasn't there. 

He looked around the room half afraid someone was going to jump out at him from behind the couch. Cautiously he checked the drapes by the sliding doors that led to the balcony; he looked out at the balcony itself, next. He listened for any sounds in the apartment; with the package still in his hand he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and crept into the bedroom, again he found no one.

Once Kevin was convinced whoever left the package was now gone, he sat down at the kitchen table, carefully opened it, and spilled the contents on the table in front of him. There were some newspaper clippings, some eight by ten color photos, and a note.  

The photos seemed to be the most prominent items so he looked at them first. "That's me," he mumbled, "but I don't know these other guys, "what the hell..." he said as he started to read the newspaper articles. "Geez, these are the same to guys, but I..." Having no idea what any of this meant yet, Kevin saw the two guys in the photos with him where the same two guys shown in the newspaper story.

Chicago: Police are on the lookout for Billy, "the button," Spinozo, and Johnny Iota in connection with the death of Salvator Dimarco.

Kevin felt his stomach churning as he read about the murder of Sal Dimarco and the subsequent disappearance of the two accused killers. He picked up the photos again and studied them closer; there was no doubt the two men in the photos were the same two pictured in the newspaper but he couldn't remember ever seeing either of them...yet, there he was...four shots of him obviously talking to both killers. 

He could feel his forehead sweating; his hand shook as he picked up the note and read it:

This is a warning; Tony has a copy of the photos showing you with Spinozo and Iota and knows you were involved with his brother's death. He has sent for two torpedoes from Baltimore who will arrive on tonight's redeye. If I were you I would get out of town before they got here. Tony will never stop looking for you so I wouldn't stay in any one place too long and I would lay low from now on. And whatever you do, don't ever come back to Chicago. Tony will know ten minutes after you hit town and you'll be dead an hour later.

A friend.

Kevin ran to the bathroom and vomited. How, he asked himself, I never saw those guys before, I know I haven't. Shit, those photos have to be fake. He wiped off his mouth and went back to looked again at the four photographs. He just didn't understand it, there was nothing to indicate they were faked.

Kevin almost died when his phone rang; his whole body trembled as he looked at the display. It was a down town number but not one he recognized. Did he dare answer it, he wondered. It rang again...his hand was shaking so hard he could barely find the connect button.

"Hel...hello," he warily answered.

"Is this Kevin McMichaels?" asked the scary voice on the other end.

"Ah, ah...I'm...ah..."

"Just listen; did you get the information I left for you?"

"Ah, ye...yes, but I..."

"Shut up and listen; two days ago Tony got those pictures of you with Spinozo and Iota; he hit the roof, he had no idea there was a third guy involved in whacking his kid brother."

"But I...I wasn't, I...I don't even know those guys...either of them...honest."

"Ah huh; pictures don't lie, asshole. Look, I don't care one way or the other; if Tony thinks you were involved that's all that matters; I'm trying to save your worthless life, here; capish?"

"Ye...yes, sir." 

"Good, then listen, it took Tony just one day to find out the other guy in the pictures was you and that you were still walking around; he immediately put a price on your head and called in two guys from Baltimore. They're flying into O'Hare a little after one in the morning. I think they're planning on visiting you straight from O'Hare; they'll be back in Baltimore before anyone even discovers your body so you don't have much time. Take only what you can carry and get the hell out of town while you can."

"Yeah, yeah, okay; I understand...who...who are you, why are you doing this for me?"

"Let's just say I have my reasons, huh. Now, according to my watch you just have a little over four hours to disappear, you better get going...and remember, I wouldn't stay in any one town too long and don't do anything that would call attention to yourself, more than likely Tony will put a fifty grand contract on your head just like he did with your two buddies."

"Yeah, I'm packing right now," Kevin cried. "Hello, hello..." there was no answer, the line was dead.

Jack walked out of the phone booth and used his cell to call Dalton. "Well, the trap is sprung; you in position?"

"Yup, I'm in the back of the parking lot and have a clear view of his car. I'll call you as soon as I see some action."

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'm going home to spend some time with the wife and kids."

"Okay, pal; thanks again, Jean owes you big time."

"Well let's see if it works, first. I really think it did though, he sounded legitimately scared over the phone. You should be seeing him loading his car before long."

"Jack, speak of the devil, he's starting already; he just came running outside and tossed some clothes in the back seat then headed back inside in a hurry," Dalton said with a big smile. "I'm going to grab some pictures for Jean, maybe it'll remind her to be more careful who she dates in the future," he said with a laugh.

Dalton stayed while Kevin made trip after trip out to his car, each time with an armload of his personal stuff. It was a good hour and a half before Kevin finally hopped in the driver's seat and sped off. Just to make sure Dalton followed him to another expressway and watched while Kevin headed west and out of sight. 




But is it Immoral? Ch. 02



Dalton took the next exit and headed for home. 

Tracy rushed up and threw her arms around her man and greeted his with a big kiss as soon as he walked in. "Well?" asked Tracy with a mixture of fear and excitement.

"He's gone," Dalton told her, "He shot over to I-eighty-eight and headed west, my guess is, he doesn't stop till he hits Omaha," he laughed.

"Does Jean know?" 

"No, it's after eleven, I'll call her in the morning; they're all probably sound asleep by now."

"I doubt it," replied Tracy, "I think you should call now; they'll sleep a whole lot better knowing they have no more to worry about."

Dalton thought about it for a second or two, "Maybe you're right," he said pulling out his phone. It rang only twice before Jean's dad picked up.

"Hello."

"Hi, Henry, it's me, Dalton."

"Oh, Dalton; is everything okay?" he asked a little worried because of the hour.

"Henry, everything is great; we have Kevin on the run, I don't believe any of us will ever hear from him again," he was happy to report, "Can you put Jean on the line or is she in bed?"

"Ah, no; she's down in the bar with Eric."

"Oh really, any sparks there?" Dalton inquired.

"You know, it's kind of hard to tell, we've all been under such a stress but I hope so. I really like Eric, he's a fine young man. They've been spending more time together and I think Jean is becoming very fond of him."

"Good," chuckled Dalton. "I think I'm beginning to see why Eric was so quick to volunteer. Well, if they're in the bar I'm going to call him and give them something to celebrate. Oh, Henry, there's no hurry to get out of the room, you've got till noon on Saturday."

Tracy heard the conversation and was smiling at Dalton as he dialed Eric's cell phone. 

"Dalton," Eric said a little surprised to hear from him so late. "What's the matter?"

"Absolutely nothing, is Jean there with you?" 

"Yeah, she's right here, why?"

"Well, my friend, you can tell her she won't be hearing from Kevin anymore, and she doesn't have to worry about any retaliation, he thinks the Chicago mob has a contract out on him and he's hightailing it out of the state as we speak."

"The mob," laughed Eric, "How the hell did you pull that off? Hold on, Dalton, Jean is sitting here wondering what the hell we're talking about; let me tell her a second." 

Eric looked at Jean with a big grin on his face. "Don't ask me how they did it, but Dalton says they convinced Kevin the mob is after him and right now he's running like a scared rabbit."

Jean almost knocked the phone from his hand as she jumped from her stool, threw her arms around Eric, and in her excitement, kissed him on the lips. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly breaking the kiss, I didn't mean..."

"Damn, don't be sorry," replied Eric, "I've wanted to do that all week."

Jean smiled; she was beginning to like this guy a lot. "Is...is he sure, no more Kevin?" 

"Here, talk to him yourself," he said offering the phone to her.

"Dalton, really; is he really gone?"

"Yes, Jean, he's really gone," he was happy to tell her. "I doubt very much if you ever hear from him again, but if you do," he warned, "you let me know immediately, understand?"

"Yes, yes, Dalton, Oh how can I ever thank you?" she gushed. 

"By finding a nice guy," he told her.

"I'm working on that right now," she replied, smiling at Eric.

"Good, well NOW you have something to celebrate. You guys have fun, huh." Dalton said goodbye, hung up and smiled at Tracy. "I think there might be something going on between Eric and Jean," he told her. "Wouldn't that be a kick?"

"Yes it would," responded Tracy. "She made a big mistake but she's suffered enough, she deserves to be happy. You know what you should do? Since they don't have to leave the hotel until Saturday, we should all have dinner there tomorrow night; Jean's mom and dad, Jack and Lynette, Jean and Eric, and you and me; let's make it a real celebration."

"Damn, honey, that's a great idea; I don't dare call Jack at this hour, even if he's up I don't want to wake Lynette or the kids, but first thing tomorrow morning I'll call; hopefully they'll be able to make it."

"So, another point for me, huh," she said with a grin, "And you still owe me for catching the reflection in the window. Come on upstairs, buster, I want to collect."

Tracy was already half undressed by the time they reached the bed. She made a show of dangling her bra before twirling over her head and tossing it into a corner, next came the panties; she accentuated the sway of her hips as she slowly lowered them to her feet then playfully kicked them in Dalton's direction.

"Come my pussy slave," she said trying to sound forceful, "Put thy tongue right here; I want at least three orgasms before you even think about moving."

"Yes, ma'am," Dalton replied jumping between her legs; what the hell, he thought, she deserves to be boss for a night.

He still hadn't wiped the grin off his face, when bright and early the next morning, he called Jack and confirmed dinner for that night, then called the restaurant and made reservations. 

That night theirs was the rowdiest table in the place. The laughs flowed like water, most at the cost of Kevin as Dalton passed around pictures of a very scared looking bully throwing items haphazardly into his car and making his get-a-way.

"Jack, how the hell did you ever come up with such a devious plan?" Eric asked.

"Oh, Eric, you don't know my husband very well if you have to ask that," joked Lynette.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tracy caught a glimpse of Jean's mother taking her daughter's hand. When she looked over she saw the emotion in Jean's face. "What's the matter, honey," she asked.

Jean tried to hide her tears at first but it was too late, everyone had already looked. She shook her head as she wiped the moisture from her cheeks. "I...I'm just so grateful; you guys went through so much, I...how can I ever thank you, I...I just don't deserve friends like you," she said before grabbing a tissue to wipe her eyes.

Eric put his arm around her. "Hey, hey, there'll no more talk like that...hear me?"

"That's right," Dalton confirmed. "No more punishing yourself; okay? From now on it's nothing but good times ahead, right Jean?"

Through her tears, Jean was able to force a smile and nod her head in agreement. She prayed he was right, it had been a long time since she'd actually been happy; maybe being helped out of a scrape like that was a sign of good things to come.

A few minutes later, as everyone was waiting for dessert and coffee, Eric excused himself and headed for the men's room. Dalton waited only a few seconds before he asked to be pardoned as well. Eric was washing his hands when Dalton entered, leaned his back against the door and folded his arms across his chest.

"So, what are you intentions with my ex-wife?" he demanded sternly.

Eric was taken aback by the seemingly aggressive stance of his friend. "What? Wha...what the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't give me that, I've been watching you two make googly eyes at each other all night; have you made love to her yet?" he asked breaking into a small smile.

Feeling a little more at ease with seeing Dalton's grin he answered with a smile of his own. "No, we've only known one another for a week."

"What about the bondage thing, are you into that; can you give her what she's looking for?"

If it were anyone else asking, Eric would have told him to take a hike but he knew Dalton was only looking out for Jean. "Well, to tell you the truth we did talk about that. No, I'm not, but it's a funny thing, since the experience with Kevin she no longer wants anything to do with it. She told me she has no desire anymore to be tied up or be submissive. She said it was always the feeling of being helpless that turned her on so much, but when she was scared and helpless for real...well, I guess that kind of thing just lost its appeal."

Dalton's grin got wider. "You know what I'd do if I were you; I'd take her my room and make love to her, slow, gentle, tender, passionate, love."

"I...I don't want her to think I'm trying to take advantage of her when she's vulnerable though," Eric stammered.

"Listen, man; she needs you. I see it every time I'm with her; she's still punishing herself over our break-up. That's going on five years ago, now. She needs someone in her life who will treat her with love and respect; I see how you look at her, I think that person is you." 

"Thanks, Dalton," he responded. "I think I just might take your advice."

As the two men returned to the table, Dalton took his seat but Eric stood behind Jean, leaned down, and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said, it brought a big smile to her face.

"Ah, listen everyone," Jean said, "it's been a really tiring day and I'm exhausted; I hope you won't mind if Eric walks me to my room." Everyone at the table exchanged pleasantries and said their goodbyes before she and Eric put their arms around each other and headed in the direction of the elevators.

About half an hour later the party broke up. Everyone had such a good time they all agreed they should do it more often.

On their way home, Tracy had to ask, "What did you and Eric talk about in the men's room? Whatever he said to Jean sure seemed to brighten her spirits."

When Dalton told her about their conversation she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just so ironic," she pointed out, "Think about it. You guys were divorced because she was scared to tell you about her fascination with bondage and being submissive; then I come along, and here you are, ready, willing, and able to participate as a Dom to my bondage fantasies; now she turns around and gives it up."

"Yeah," he replied. "That is kind of weird isn't it."

***

"The light is out in Jean's room, she must be in bed already," remarked Jean's dad as they entered their hotel room.

"Oh, Harry, are you really that old?" scoffed Jean's mom, "She's in bed alright but not her bed."

"Huh...Oh, you mean her and Eric?" You really think so?"

"I know so, honey; did you not see the two of them at dinner?" she said as they walked to the bedroom.

"I wouldn't mind seeing those two together," he responded, "I like that Eric. It probably wouldn't hurt to have a cop in the family either," he joked. 

As his wife reached around to unzip her dress, Harry moved closely behind her. "Here, let me help you with that," he said with smile. "You know, since Jean won't be in the next room, and this is our last night in this beautiful hotel...well, it would be a shame not to put this big king size bed to better use than just sleeping on it."

His wife of thirty-five years turned, put her arms around his neck and kissed him...very, very passionately. 

If everyone from the dinner had compared notes the following day, they would have found it had been a night for making love all around.

***

That following Monday everyone was happy to see Jean back to work and asked if everything turned out okay with her family emergency; she assured everyone that things worked out fine and thanked them for their concern. Of course only Bel and her boss, Mr. Jacobson, knew the truth.

Bel could hardly wait for lunch time to hear what happened. She couldn't stop laughing as Jean told the story. "Boy, my husband had it right, didn't he; he said if Jack and Dalton put their heads together they'd be able to figure out something and they sure did; that is so funny! Wait till I tell Dave, he'll split a gut."

"That reminds me," Jean said sounding coy, "What's it like being married to a cop?"

"Well in Dave's case it's great. He doesn't have to go out on patrol or anything like that; for him it's just a regular nine to five job, why?" she asked seeing the sly smile on her friend's face. "Ah oh; what's going on, Jean?"

"Weellll," she said slurring the word, "You know that cop Dalton asked to keep us company in the hotel; we're...ah, well, we're kind of seeing each other."

"Jean, that's great. Is he into...you know," she said lowering her voice, "the bondage and all that stuff?"

"No, but I'll tell you, Bel, after being tied up and beaten all weekend by that maniac, I really don't want any more to do with that stuff. It isn't that I wouldn't trust Eric, but it would bring back those horrible memories. No, Eric is a wonderful lover; he gives me everything I need."

"Oh, Jean, that's wonderful; I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Bel; And I'll tell you something, if this does turn out to be the real thing and I'm lucky enough to get another shot at real love...I won't mess up this time. I will be the most faithful, loving, and compassionate wife anyone could ever ask for."

Bel smiled; "I know you will, honey."

Epilogue:

For the next few months everyone kept an eye out for Kevin's return but it never came. Over the course of time he became nothing more than a bad memory. Six months into their relationship, Eric popped the question; two months later Jean became Mrs. Eric Watts. 

It was at the wedding that Tracy found she not only enjoyed Jean's company but also that of her good friend, Bel. The three became very tight and would regularly meet for lunch. 

"Girls, I have news," Jean said bursting to tell her two friends as they all sat down at their favorite restaurant; she took a deep breath then let it fly, "I'm pregnant!" she yelled. 

Almost everyone in the restaurant looked over as Bel and Tracy joined in with screams of their own.

"Congratulations!" Shrieked Tracy followed by Bel. 

Three weeks later the entire incident was played out again, only it was Tracy making the announcement. A few shorts weeks later both women supported baby bumps as they all sat down for their weekly luncheon. 

Only Bel was left, it was almost four months later when she announced she was more than two weeks late; a home pregnancy test made it official. 

For the rest of her life, Jean never forgot the lessons she learned during the most difficult times in her life. Never once had she taken her wonderful husband or her three sons for granted; she treats them all with the love and respect they deserve and every morning, when she gets up, she says a silent little prayer and thanks God for her family, her friends, and for giving her a second chance.

The End