IRC - When Predator Becomes Prey

It seem that the trail led back to Europe. Most log-ins by MissMyndFuck was taking place through servers located on the European mainland. Germany. Austria. France. Belgium. Holland. The spike was getting thinner. And once the initial unravelling had been done, the spike, as opposed to the wedge was getting thinner at a rate of knots. Consequently the list of names was narrowing. The initial painstaking work that had been essential, was beginning to pay dividends. At long last it seemed that there was a result just around the corner. Eventually, all of the investigations were coming together and concentrated in Europe. MissMyndFuck, not such a globe-trotter after all it seemed. One name, or actually two names became highlighted and dominant in the work of those looking into it. All names were forwarded to Claudette. She was heading the investigation and consequently had to filter through the names. Besides, it was just a possibility, no matter how slight, that a name would ring a bell. It would have made things so much easier if that had happened. If this person whoever she was was known to Claudette, either through BonNet or through her professional life. Obviously no such luck. But like her aids in this investigation, the names on the list were gradually being narrowed down. Eventually there were only two names. But it was at this point that things began to get disturbing yet again. Actually, Claudette's stomach did several turns when she had at last, gone through the mountain of stuff and after reading this final email had come to the same conclusion that her team had.

There was a female name and a male name. The female name was Alexandra Rothe. All of the accounts required to set up the huge network of deceit were in her name. ISP accounts all in the name of Ms Alexandra Rothe. Payment through electronic means, once again in the name of Ms Alexandra Rothe. All of the payment means available via the internet would state at some point whether the account holder was "verified", or not. Verification meant that the address and bank details that the company held had been confirmed and verified. That in fact, Alexandra Rothe was who she said she was. However, in each and every case here, those accounts were "non-verified". So yet another layer of deception and secretion had been uncovered. In normal circumstances this wouldn't be an issue. One would suspect that the amount of non-verified accounts out there in cyber-space far outweighed the verified ones simply because, for instance, in order to make purchases through an online auction site, one would need to have one of these accounts. Many people would only use these accounts once and never use them again and therefore not go through the process of verification that was in most cases long winded and fraught with pitfalls. In this case though, and having all of the information to hand, Claudette could only worry just that little bit more. I guess 'worry' was an inappropriate word in connection with Claudette. It was simply an 'issue' that she had to resolve.

An unverified account held by Alexandra Rothe rang alarm bells. Several unverified accounts only emphasised a deception that seemed to be expanding even as the very tip of that spike was being accessed. So Ms Alexandra Rothe appeared to be the illusive MissMyndFuck. That much was clear. Or so it seemed. Except it wasn't quite as simple as that. It would have been so nice to have had it all wrapped up with this. Having that name, Ms Alexandra Rothe should have seen the end of the matter in sight. A name, a single name that could be investigated. Eventually that name, hopefully being attached to THAT IP address and THAT computer. It was true to an extent of course. Except that investigations into that name drew a blank. There was no such person. Firstly on a European search. Then one that included the United Kingdom. Then out of desperation, one worldwide. Oh, even a Google search spat up many instances of the name Alexandra Rothe which instigated more dead ended investigations. But officially and in the context of Claudette's investigations, Alexandra Rothe didn't exist. There was no such person. But that was just it, there was.

It appeared that just as that tip of the spike was being reached, just as that light at the end of the tunnel was in sight, another dead end had been reached. Except, not quite. The unverified electronic payment accounts were the key. Those accounts were held in the name of a person that to all intents and purposes didn't exist. However, whilst for anyone with the slightest internet knowledge would know that holding accounts in assumed names was fine, but somewhere along the line a real person had to exist. A real payment had to be made to the electronic payment companies. A bank account had to be used. A credit card. A debit card. Something, somewhere along the line had to be used by the person who was at the very tip of that spike. And that was it, that was the key. That was the very key to this investigation. That was where the second name came into the equation. All ISPs, all IPs, all servers, all countries and all names, investigated. No stone left unturned and eventually coming down to one name. Not MissMyndFuck. Not Alexandra Rothe. Just one name. Not a female name at all.

"Mr Stephane DeLaurie...... gotcha you little Cunt."

Once again, Claudette thinking out aloud. The word "cunt" dripping out and over her scarlet lips like she was ejecting some kind of poison or something. This time to, it was with a little more volume, and this time Selena stirred in her basket. She opened her eyes dreamily and then stretched. Her long blonde hair cascading over the lip of the pet basket she was sleeping in. Her stunningly long legs seeming to unfold and then stretch forever as she woke from her deep deep sleep. Peering over the basket lip at Claudette,

"Is everything alright Mistress."

Selena's voice whispery, almost smoky in its tone and texture. Her long slender fingers just creeping up over the same lip of the basket and resting either side of her face. The perfectly manicured nails, deep red and catching the room lights. Her chin, also resting on that lip as she looked over, and up at her statuesque owner with nothing short of adoration and love.

"Oh yes. Oh yes pet. Everything is just fine. Mighty fine. And do you know pet, its going to get even better."

Claudette looked over at Selena, watched her curl up again and fall into a kind of semi sleep before turning back to matters in hand. That light at the end of the tunnel was beginning to shine a little brighter.

Later that same day...

Claudette smiled to herself. She was on a roll. At last a single name to work on. A most bizarre twist though was the fact that Mr Stephane DeLaurie, as such did not exist. And, contrary to where the name pointed, neither was he French in orientation. Stephane DeLaurie was in fact Steven Laurie before having his name changed by deed pole.

"Oh My God! This cannot be right, surely!!!?"

Once again Claudette was thinking allowed. She had done a lot of that since embarking on this little project. It wasn't something that she could exactly talk to someone else about. At least not anyone outside of her BonNet circle. Besides, where there had been the feelings, or the 'need' deep inside her to get to the bottom of the mystery known at MissMyndFuck, now that part of the matter was in the closing stages, stronger deeper feeling of anger were beginning to emerge. Had Alexandra Rothe not turned out to be Steven Laurie, had it actually turned out to be a fact that this was a woman who had covered her tracks for fear of her 'hobbies' and her deviant sexual nature being discovered, then Claudette would undoubtedly have gone about handling the next phase in a different manner. In a different way altogether. Probably, Claudette would have discreetly met the said Alexandra Rothe, explained to her that she had been rumbled and that she would have to find some other, less invasive and suspicious way of getting her jollies. Who knows they may have even ended up as friends. Close friends. Claudette could never say that she hadn't become more than slightly moist during the hours and hours she had spent reading those chat logs. And because of this she did have something of an affinity with the person known as MissMyndFuck.

The fact was that, with the discovery of Steven Laurie, her illusion had been broken. Not just broken but smashed wide open. She actually, in a mature, simmering kind of way, felt 'cheated'. Almost defiled by this Steven Laurie person, whoever the fuck he was. And that was the next question that needed to be answered. Who the fuck was he? It didn't take much digging. And the first thing found out totally astounded Claudette. The intense and complex deception that had taken place pointed to someone mature and with knowledge that the normal person in the street just could not have. It involved financial fraud and identity fraud and finally immoral fraud of the most invasive kind. All of those factors were right. Except the first. Steven Laurie was a 'boy' barely out of his teens. In fact, within the last week he had just had his twentieth birthday. A coincidence that didn't escape Claudette was the fact that this boy spent his twentieth birthday with his cock slipping down inside fullcry's throat. She knew this, from the chat logs she had spent endless hours pouring over. It had become evident that, the man 'sent' around to use fullcry, was indeed the one and only MissMyndFuck aka Alexandra Rothe aka Stephane DeLaurie aka Steven Laurie.

Steven Laurie was, it turned out, the drop-out son of a well known politician. Or that should be ex-politician since he was now a Lord. Extremely high profile. Claudette couldn't find out the reason for his dropping out. She hadn't been interested. Not in the slightest. She was more than a little bubbling that this 'little shit' had caused her to be slightly damp between the thighs. The fact was that he had dropped out and then set about changing his name via deed-pole in the United Kingdom. Really he had dropped out without a trace. At least that was as far as his family was concerned. They simply had not wanted to know him. Claudette had thought that a little strange. He must have done something to warrant being ignored, or more or less disowned by his own family. He had dropped out yes. Lots of teenagers dropped out but still retained the full support of the family. He had dropped out of his own free will and accord. But the family had done nothing to stop him just disappearing into a black hole of anonymity. That puzzled Claudette but there was no pressing need for her to dig deeper on that. At least not yet. Steven had dropped out just before his seventeenth birthday. Almost immediately his deception had begun. A seriously mixed up dude with issues. Nothing more than a kid creating this huge deception for purely sexual reasons. Not just sexual reasons, but apparently because of advanced and quite twisted deviations from the normal. Maybe his family had found out about his strange tastes in sexual preferences? Who knows. As soon as he was eighteen, Steven Laurie had changed his name to Stephane DeLaurie by deed poll. Fuck.. where did THAT come from? There were all sorts of twists and turns that could be explored with regard to Stephane DeLaurie. But they weren't important, not right at this time. Claudette was just about getting her head around the fact that she was dealing with a rampant, sexual predator of just twenty years old. Fuck! It was laughable. Or was it? When everything was taken into consideration, laughable wasn't an appropriate word.

The dropping out phase had lasted just long enough for Stephane to disappear from the radar. He had had a talent for computers from an early age. This seemed to have been overlooked, or eclipsed by whatever else was going on in his life. He eventually crept out from under the stone of drop-out status to secure a position with a small IT company operating outside London. It was whilst he was at this company that he fine tuned his deception and set everything up. It might have been the fact that he then spent the next two years moving from company to company that he avoided detection. Or that he hadn't been flagged up. He had quite obviously used the company facilities in order to gain access to various networks that enabled him to create this huge on-line persona that was MissMyndFuck. There was no doubt either that Stephane DeLaurie was good at what he did. He had started at the bottom, as an IT assistant and then with each and every subsequent job move, he moved up the ladder. That was normal. For people to progress in that way. But this guy was so good at his job, and had become so well known within the greater London area, or in particular the City, that his current company had head-hunted him from his last job and enticed him with a salary that just wasn't the normal for a 'boy' of his age.

Stephane DeLaurie had successfully dropped-out and remerged. As far as Claudette could tell, and she could tell a lot from the information she had gained about this boy, he had no contact with his family, and apart from work was something of a loner. He went to work, and he went home. Home had become a £2million bachelor apartment in the Docklands area of London. There was no mortgage on the property, it had been purchased outright. In the shadow of 1 Canada Square, otherwise know as the Canary Wharf tower, the apartment existed across the entire top floor of a twenty storey building and with roof garden and balcony views across the City. There was no doubt that this guy was being well paid by the company that he worked for. But what IT professional could afford to purchase outright, a £2million pound property? It would be unheard of. More so for a twenty year old to do be able to do that. Only further digging into Stephane's finances would reveal that he had secured many sizeable payments from individuals over quite an expanse of time. That was an avenue that had to be explored further because it did ring certain alarm bells within Claudette's increasingly agitated mind. That further probing and further digging revealed that Stephane, aka MissMyndFuck had extorted funds out of more than a handful of his on-line victims. In fact so immense was his MissMyndFuck income that it actually dwarfed the really quite sizeable salary he was receiving from the company he worked for. It would be safe to say that this guy was simply using his day job as a cover. His on-line deception was paying huge dividends. That much was an understatement. Baring in mind he was only twenty years old, his 'achievements' could quite rightly be described as 'staggering'. The fact the he blended in with the City high flyers meant that he kind of became 'invisible'.

The City was full of wealthy young people. Male and female. Claudette knew that. She had started as a runner on the floor of the stock exchange and had been notable simply because she had been only one of two female runners at that time. She had quickly risen through the ranks whilst the other girl had faded away. Claudette had eventually come to mergers and acquisitions simply because of the returns. It was true that Claudette had become something of a legend. Even an icon that other women looked up to. A prime example of what could be achieved in the previously male dominated world of high finance. She knew the City. She knew how it worked. The City knew her. And to think all the time, this little shit, this little slip of a twenty year old 'boy' had infiltrated not only the City, but her BonNet network. And to further think that he was operating pretty much right under her nose all of the time just, for a moment, made Claudette sink back in her chair, at a loss for words. This guy took the biscuit. He just took the biscuit. She was curious as to what he looked like. That is curious to the point that she had to know. The problem with twenty year olds who just so happened to be also megalomaniacs was they liked, to a certain degree at least, to show off. Maybe not show-off, but 'be seen'. Of course Stephane DeLaurie had a FaceBook page. He had a Yahoo page and he even Twittered. . Of course he belonged to every social networking site that existed. A simple search on his name brought up all of those pages. Oh... of course, he did not introduce himself as Stephane DeLaurie -- Deception Artist, Pervert, Extortionist, all-round fuck-wit. No, of course he didn't do that. It was Stephane DeLaurie IT Professional. In fitting with the unfolding character this boy had become, he had more online friends than real-life friends. It was obvious just reading these pages that he didn't mingle in the real world. He felt safer and was more effective from behind a computer screen. The computer was his weapon of choice. Oh yes, there was the odd foray into the real world. I mean, MissMyndFuck often sent 'men' around to give the girls who had come under her control a good seeing to. Except that it wasn't a man, as such. It was a boy. Stephane DeLaurie himself. That was probably the only way that he could get his rock off in the real world. To have these girls, and in some cases, women, at his complete and utter mercy. He didn't strike Claudette as the kind of guy who pursued normal relationships. A normal relationship would probably break him down into little tiny pieces.

Claudette felt like applauding the boy. Fuck he was good. She had said that countless times about MissMyndFuck, when it WAS MissMyndFuck she was looking for. Now she was saying it about a twenty year old BOY who was a cunt of the biggest order and taking the piss in the most audacious way imaginable. She had to admit though, he was a good looking boy. Pretty even. From his profile pictures on the social network sites, he didn't just look his age. He looked younger. Claudette spent a lot of time looking at the countless pictures he had put up of himself. Obviously very proud of his own looks. Very taken with himself. Oh yes she could believe that he took pride in his own looks. It wasn't just in his grooming it was the way he posed for the pictures. There was not only a confidence in his looks, but an arrogance. Claudette spent time pouring over these pages. Like she was getting to know him. Like she was getting to know him intimately. She couldn't help thinking that this guy, this Stephane DeLaurie was not only a good looking boy, a pretty boy... but he was also, at least from his photographs, more than a little effeminate. Somehow, it didn't matter which of the hundreds of pictures she looked at, she came to the same conclusion. It could have been the long blondish hair. Or the fact that not only did he have no facial hair, but there didn't appear to be any ability to grow any. Then there were the big eyes. The high cheekbones. The full lips. Claudette chuckled to herself. But then she considered, was she simply thinking this way because they were facts, or was she thinking this way because there was something more than a little anger simmering and increasing inside her about this person. She considered all for a few seconds and decided that both cases were probably true.

Claudette had to meet this guy. But in the first instance she needed to do more homework on him. The deception was solved. The identity was solved. Now the man-boy-girl had to be explored in greater detail. Layers peeled back. Investigations made. Before Claudette made her move, before she met this little shit face to face she had to know EVERYTHING.

Location.... Claudette's country property.

The weekends was when Claudette could usually relax. Chill. Let her hair down. The City only worked five days a week. Monday to Friday. At least it did for her. She had long since passed the stage where she had to work hours on end seven days a week. Claudette was so established that the wheels pretty much oiled themselves. These days she was raking in money for her company, and for herself for little more than clicking her mouse a few times a day. At almost forty one years old it was where she needed to be. Enjoying life. She could retire now and not even dent her bank balance by living off the interests her cash and investments made. She hadn't quite become that kind of lady of leisure yet. She still needed a buzz. Still needed a challenge.