Jezebel - It Was You

It turned out that Peter was in the perfect position for a whistleblower lawsuit. The potential damages from Corporation X's activities was, according to my calculations, close to $100,000,000, for violation of the Federal False Claims Act, as well as a corresponding state statute. Peter would be entitled to at least $10,000,000. Making the case even juicier, since Megan was a compliance officer she would get a significant part of the blame and would at least be fired and maybe even jailed.

I ran with Peter's case. Of course since I was not allowed to practice law I had to associate myself with a trial attorney. I found an ambulance chaser who was a good trial attorney but had an acerbic personality so that he alienated many clients; he also wasn't good with paperwork, just thinking on his feet.

Jeremy P. Law, ambulance chaser, hired me as a paralegal and I brought Peter's case with me. I did all the paperwork, Jeremy handled court hearings, Peter and I met with government attorneys and talked them into joining us, and to make a long story short within ten months Corporation X settled. Peter netted $9,000,000, of which Jeremy got 1.7 million and I got 1.3 million. The most delicious part - Megan was fired and was lucky to be able to work out a plea deal with the government to pay a $60,000 fine and get a two year suspended sentence. She was also barred from ever working on government contracts again, or ever being a compliance officer in any context. I made sure that Megan knew of my involvement.

One down in my "purpose" checklist.

Now that I had some money, I could work on the next two items on my "purpose" checklist.

The next thing that I did was to endear myself to a maid who worked part time in Jezebel and Horton's house. For some cash, she let me know the next time that Wilbur and Clarisse were visiting, and that Clarisse would be taking Horton's chauffeur-driven limo to the spa on a Tuesday morning, and then to a luncheon. She also advised me that there was lots of tension between Clarisse and Jezebel, and that Clarisse did not enjoy the visits.

Tuesday morning I followed Clarisse's limo to the spa. After an hour I entered and asked how much longer Mrs. Cumberbunch would be, identifying myself as the chauffeur. "She'll be done in about fifteen minutes," the cute young receptionist told me, eyeing me up and down and obviously impressed with the muscles extending from my short sleeve polo shirt.

"Would you tell her that there's no reason to ring me - that I'll be waiting right outside," I said with a big smile.

"Uh...sure thing. Want to leave me your number just in case?" she asked.

To be polite I wrote a fake phone number on a piece of paper at the desk and smiled goodbye.

When Clarisse got outside about twenty minutes later, I approached her with a big smile on my face. "Hi, Clarisse; you're really looking good!"

I wasn't lying. She was in the top 1/10th of 1% in looks of women 55-60 years old, and way, way above my standard of who I'd be anxious to fuck.

She was surprised, but gave me the biggest smile I had ever seen on her face. "Why Blake; you look so good yourself. I do believe that you're more handsome now than the last time that I saw you - what was it, a year ago?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I chuckled; "about sixteen months ago, and about eighteen months since our talk while walking through the gardens at Horton's place. Do you remember that talk?" I asked, as I gave her a big hug - which she reciprocated, and which reminded me of the significant meat hidden under her conservative blouse.

"How could I forget," she laughed when we broke contact. I do believe that she shivered slightly when we broke contact, and I'm sure that she felt my hard cock at her midriff when we hugged.

"Can I take you to lunch - I want to talk to you about something, and I guarantee that you won't be disappointed," I smiled, holding one of her hands.

"Something mysterious, huh? OK," she chuckled. "I like a god mystery. Also, I was looking for a way out of the charity luncheon I had planned to go to especially since the she-devil will be there," she replied, leaving no doubt that she was referencing Jezebel. She made a quick call to Jezebel's cell and left a "so sorry" regrets message. Then she looked around. "I don't see my chauffeur; he told the receptionist that he'd be waiting outside for me."

"Actually, Clarisse - I don't want you to think that I'm stalking you - even though I am" I laughed, "but I left that message."

Clarisse laughed. "That explains why the receptionist said I was lucky to have a 'hunk' for a driver; no one could call Winston that." She got out her iPhone again. "What time should I tell him to pick me up and where?"

"Let's just see how things progress. You can tell him that I'll drop you off once our day is over."

Clarisse got a big smile and nodded her head, and made the call to Winston. "I won't be needing you the rest of the day. I've arranged for alternative transportation home."

I held Clarisse's hand as we walked at a brisk pace - she had long legs even for a woman 5 feet 10 inches tall, four inches taller than Wilbur. We sat next to each other in a booth for two in a local deli. We both ordered light.

After exchanging pleasantries Clarisse got serious for a minute. "I am so sorry for the way that my family, and your wife, treated you Blake. I don't know the details, but I know that they were in the wrong. I hope that you know that I had nothing to do with it, and actually tried to talk them out of their extreme actions - Wilbur and I had a very frosty relationship for months afterward."

"Thank you so much, Clarisse. I knew then, as well as now, that you had nothing to do with it. I'd shock you if I told you the details - but I will relate one. They basically tried to ruin my life because I wouldn't have sex with Jezebel and agree to Megan having sex with Horton."

She spit the soda out of her nose and mouth. "What?" she muttered.

I took my napkin and cleaned her face off. "That's right; but let's not talk about that. Let's talk about the subject I want to talk about."

"OK," she half-smiled. "What's that?"

I took a big bite of my sandwich, chewed it, and then looked her in the eye with a hand on her bare knee, having moved her skirt above it. "Now that I'm single I want to fulfill a desire that I've had since our garden talk eighteen months ago. I want to have sex with you."

Her eyes got as big as baseballs but there was no other expression on her face as she stared into mine while I continued: "I don't want gentle love-making; I want to fuck you senseless - to ravage every part of your body; to devour your clit, to pound you doggy style, to make you moan and beg for mercy. And I want to do it today."

She gulped and stared hard into my eyes. "Wilbur is a very jealous person," she softly replied.

"Screw Wilbur; he doesn't realize what a treasure he has in you; he doesn't deserve you. If what you told me before is true and you really want someone to roughly bring you to nirvana, I'm the guy to do it - and no one will be more enthusiastic than I will be."

With that I slid my hand up to her very moist panties and tickled her labia through them, causing her to squirm. She put a hand on my crotch and my cock instantly went from half-mast to full-tent. She got a far-away look on her face.

After staring at me for a full minute with her unmoving hand on my crotch and my gently tickling fingers on her panties she said "Pay the check, I'm going to freshen up," and started to get out of the booth. I pulled her back and gave her a no-holds-barred kiss; she left the booth flustered.

When Clarisse returned from the bathroom I was waiting for her in the front of the deli; I opened the door for her, then held her hand as we started walking north. After a few steps she handed me her panties and with a diabolical grin said "You soaked this so that it's no longer comfortable to wear; put it in your pocket, please."

"It will be a great souvenir of what is sure to be one of the best days of my life," I chortled as I put her panties in my back pocket, then pinned her against a shopfront and kissed her again. We walked hand-in-hand until we got to the Four Seasons Hotel - about four blocks away. I signed in as "Blake Thorsness and mistress," and made that sure she saw it. She blushed and mouthed "You bastard."

When we got to room 1218 I was determined to fulfill her rough sex fantasy, and she was determined to have it fulfilled. I popped most of her blouse buttons, and partially ripped her skirt zipper, getting her clothes off. Then she immediately fell into role-playing. She was a poor innocent being attacked by an aggressive undesirable suitor.

As we wrestled around the room for the next ten minutes or so she was slapping me, and pushing me away, calling me an asshole, bastard, and rapist as I ran my hands over every part of her body, and gummed or licked her big tits, unbelievably perky for a 58 year old. Finally I pinned her on the bed lying partially on top of her, holding one of her hands over her head while she stroked my cock with the other. "Get the fuck off of me you asshole," she snarled. Given the way that she was moving her crotch toward mine, and the strokes she was giving my cock, it was clear that the LAST thing in the world that she wanted was for me to get off of her.

In response to those words, I lifted my crotch up, moved her hand off my cock, and in a single thrust buried my dick to the hilt in her sopping wet pussy. She screamed and I started pounding away. She rolled back and forth the best that she could considering that I was on top of her, bucked her pelvis, swore a blue streak, and then started pulsing her pussy muscles as I banged her with five or six long hard thrusts, followed by two or three short ones, followed by more long ones.

We came simultaneously, and quickly. I hadn't been laid in more than a month, and she really did have a nice body and a spectacular pussy, and her role playing was very provocative, so I probably shot five or six colossal wads of cum into her pulsating pussy. We both almost passed out. I kept gently stroking for another ten minutes as I gradually became flaccid while she continuously moaned.

When we separated we both got big smiles on our faces and kissed feverishly. "That was definitely my best fuck since college those many years ago, and maybe my best ever," she croaked at one point, somewhere between starting to cry and laugh.

"You're a fucking goddess," I mumbled between planting kisses on her face, neck, and boobs. "You do know that I'm going to nibble on your clit so much that you'll lose track of the number of orgasms, don't you."

"Promises, promises, tongue-less," she chuckled.

I was true to my word. We both lost track of the number of orgasms she got from me stimulating her clit and/or abusing her G-spot. I injected two more loads of seminal fluid into her vagina, and sprayed cum all over her chin and chest during an epic titty-fuck. We fucked, sucked, cat-napped, massaged each other's entire bodies, showered three times, drank Perrier and ate candy and chips from the mini-bar, and snuggled the entire day.

We concluded with a doggy fuck during which I inserted a thin lubricated vibrator into her ass, which I turned on low until I started ejaculating, at which point I turned it on high. I was lucky to have the presence of mind to turn the vibrator off before we both collapsed in orgasmic bliss. We had agreed to record this last event on our iPhones.

When we woke up from that classic event the bedside clock read "1:58 a. m." When Clarisse read the clock she groaned. "Oh shit - how am I going to explain my absence until past 2 a. m.?"

"You just tell them that you got fucked more soundly than at any other time in your life - and if they don't believe you they can look at the bruises and hickeys all over your body," I chortled.

In fact there were bruises and hickeys from the rough sex present at at least a half-dozen places on her body; her nipples were also raw, and her crotch bright red.

She smiled. "It was my best sexual experience ever - light years ahead of any other. I guess that I'll have to fess up won't I? It's not like Wilbur can get a revenge fuck since he's impotent, and our pre-nup expired when our daughter turned thirty five two months ago."

"In fact - I'd love it if you could tell Wilbur and Jezebel that it was with me;" I grinned. "Maybe even show them the video," I chuckled.

"The video is just for my amusement," she laughed.

We safety-pinned her blouse and skirt back on, she carried her bra, and of course I had her panties as a souvenir. She looked like she had been ravaged for eleven hours straight (oh wait, she had been) as we walked up to the pedestrian entrance to the high gate surrounding Horton and Jezebel's house. I watched as she entered the five digit code, 3-7-8-6-9; it took three times for her to get it right since the sex had obviously affected her dexterity and addled her brain. She laughed when I pointed that out. After a scorching kiss she went inside and gave a demure wave as she shuffled up the pathway.

I slept until 2 p. m. that day. I felt good - I mean really good - I mean fantastic - when I woke up. Not only was it the first time that I had been laid in more than a month, but it was definitely one of the half dozen best sexual experiences of my life. I had a grin on my face the entire day. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when Wilbur confronted her.

While I couldn't be a fly on the wall, I did get a report from Clarisse the next day. I had given her the number of my present burner phone with the promise that she wouldn't share it with others.

"Hi stud; your very, very satisfied, but sore and out-of-commission fuck toy here," she breathed into the phone when I answered.

"Now which fuck toy is that?" I asked with a chuckle.

"The one that had a vibrator up her ass while you were doggy fucking her, dipshit," she retorted.

"Ah - I remember you; my favorite fuck toy," I replied.

"Yeah, that one," she laughed. "Are you interested in a report of what happened when I got back?"

"I'd like nothing better," I responded, "except for another night with you."

"If I ever recover you're on," she giggled. "Actually, it was anti-climactic. Wilbur didn't wake up when I got home and showered and put cream on all of my sore parts. I actually got up early - around 8 a.m. - considering what you did to me. Wilbur, Horton, and the she-devil were at breakfast. In her snarkiest voice the she-devil snickered 'You got in late dear mother-in-law, lose your way home?' I replied 'No, I was fucking Blake for eleven hours.' Horton said 'Mother, don't talk like that, please,' while the she-devil snipped 'You wish,' and Wilbur just chuckled as he read the paper while listening. As I exited the room I whispered into the she-devil's ear 'I'd say his cock is about eight inches long and nicely fills a pussy, wouldn't you?' That removed the seemingly ever-present smug look from her face," Clarisse laughed.

Wilbur would see the video of me and Clarisse at some later point in time. Now I needed to go with the next phase of my revenge plan; two down (Megan and Wilbur), two to go (Horton and the she-devil).

*********************

Once Wilbur and Clarisse left Horton and Jezebel's house to go home, I was ready for the next phase of my plan. This plan was truly diabolical; I never would have believed before I met Jezebel and my life was ruined (at least for more than a year) that I was capable of what I was about to do - but there was no doubt in my mind that I was.

I had purchased a cabin powered by solar cells, a wind turbine, batteries, and a propane generator in a remote area about 400 miles from Jezebel's house. It was about 300 miles of highway, 75 miles of back roads, 10 miles of gravel road, and 15 miles of dirt road traversable only by four wheel drive vehicle. An LLC was the ostensible owner of the property, and my name didn't appear anywhere on the corporation papers unless someone had the wherewithal to look through three foreign shell corporations by making actual visits to the venues since the documents were not available on line. It had a nice exercise room, almost modern kitchen, small living room, a bathroom with a nice shower stall and connected up to a septic field, and one bedroom. The cabin was equipped with satellite TV and Internet service, but intentionally there was no phone service. There was a small lake on the property, a dock, two kayaks, and a small fishing boat.

After Horton left for work one day - a day that all the employees except for the maid had off - I punched in the security code to the pedestrian gate that I had seen Clarisse use, and waited for Jezebel behind some bushes. As she approached her car I grabbed her from behind and put a chloroform cloth over her mouth. She was incredibly strong, stronger than most men her size, and fought like hell, but I was able to keep my grip long enough for the chloroform to take effect.

I put limp Jezebel into her car and drove off the grounds to may four wheel drive vehicle, about half a mile away. I put a note in Jezebel's car that said "Jezebel will be spending some time with me; she will not be harmed and eventually will be returned. Your hero, Blake Thorsness." I had no intention of hiding my involvement - that would be detrimental to the fulfillment of my goals - especially since I had a complete set of fake documents (including social security card) for a new identity which I would employ once I fulfilled my goals.

Since chloroform only lasts a short while, I injected Jezebel with a knockout drug, and drove to my cabin in the woods. After I unloaded her and put a shock collar on her I injected her with a drug to wake her up.

"Oh WOW - my head feels like a watermelon," were Jezebel's first words when she became coherent. She saw me and asked "Blake - are you the one that grabbed me?"

"At your service," I smiled.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Oh, about forty miles from the nearest civilization. However, we have plenty of food and activities, so we should have fun, even though winter should be setting within three weeks."

"Three weeks? How long do you think that you're keeping me here?" she snarled.

"As long as I need to to accomplish my goal," I retorted.

"And your goal would be what?"

"I'll tell you when I've succeeded, not before."

"Well fuck you; I'm leaving even if I have to walk out of here," Jezebel bristled. It was only when she stood up that she realized that she didn't have shoes on, and did have a collar on her neck.

"Go ahead," I snickered. "The door is that way," I continued, pointing.

She stormed toward the door, said "ouch" as she stepped on the gravel leading from the front of the house to my SUV, and then shrieked when I pushed the button which controlled the electric charge to her collar. She fell to the ground, and cut her knees on the gravel.

I calmly walked outside and looked down at her. "Oh Jezebel, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you about the gravel which is hard on bare feet, and also about the shock collar that you have on. This controls the level of shock," I said, holding up the controller. "This is level one," I said, moving a dial and then pressing the button.

"Ouch," she whimpered, grabbing her neck.

"The first jolt that I gave you was a level five. You don't want to see level ten, believe me."

As I helped her up and put a throw rug between where she was standing on the gravel and the front door, she mumbled "Asshole."

"Right-on," I replied with a smile. "In a few days tell me how my level of assholeness compares to yours when you lied and got me suspended, fired, and penniless."

When we got inside, I removed a pair of running shoes which fit Jezebel from a locked safe and tossed them to her. "Let me show you around," I smiled.