Bad M.I.L.F Vol. 04 - The New Batch Ch. 02

"Tell Chrystal that I FUCKED her MAN too; and I LOVED EVERY FUCKING BIT OF IT!! Matter of fact, I just got my cherry popped mother; I know you're mad, right? Probably wished you could be here to WATCH, right mother? We both know how GOOD he is, right BITCH!!" Capri was starting to break down, crying too as I sat frozen in place.

"PLEEEASE CAPRI!!"

"Don't hang up mother; cause I'm gonna FUCK him some more; and we're gonna DO IT until I can't walk straight, YOU'D LIKE THAT, HUH BITCH!! That what you were gonna do to me over in fucking Barbados, right?"

"PLEASE, I-I'LL GIVE YOUR CREDIT CARDS BACK, MAKE CHRYSTAL APOLOGIZE FOR HURTING YOU!! DON'T FUCK THAT BLACK BASTARD!!" Carry Anne was screaming hysterically.

"But I am gonna FUCK; you can listen to me CUM, like that mom, huh?"

"..." The phone suddenly went silent, but it didn't sound like Carry Anne hung up. Capri looked over her shoulder at me for a few seconds before picking up the phone.

"Mrs. McIntyre, Carry Anne...mom?" I was getting an uneasy feeling as Capri peered into the face of the phone. She looked over at me worried, holding up her phone which was still on causing me to panic even more. The uneasy feeling ran up my spine further as I jumped up pulling on my clothing motioning for her to do the same.

"Mom, are you there?" I could hear vehicles approaching as lights flashed from the other side of Capri's motel room. She didn't know what to make of the situation wrapping more sheets around herself as I put a finger to my mouth silencing her. I whispered in her ear letting her know that I would call her in a few moments.

"Of course, I'm here darling." My blood ran cold as I realized she was talking to me. I barely had time to grab my motorcycle helmet, slipping out of the room on all fours to the gated pool area.

Three utility vehicles suddenly pulled into the motel parking lot. I watched a number of men in suits step out of the cars looking like secret service or something. Of course, they were private security as a few of their number brandished Mag lights flashing their strong beams around the adjacent parking lot. Carry Anne appeared wrapped in a white overcoat along with the eldest daughter Ms. Frakkes in tow. I pulled out my phone using the camera feature on it as makeshift binoculars. I could clearly see the expression on Carry Anne's face contrasted with the emotion tirade I'd just been listening to; apparently, it was an act put on while they were in transit to Capri's motel. The idea being of course, to catch me there with her daughter. The private security detail were still actively searching the area near her hotel room scaring me enough to hop the fence onto the adjacent street. I ran down a few feet before peering back over the fence finding Capri being marched out to the second of the three utility vehicles where her adopted parents were waiting. I watched as Capri talked with her parents in a decidedly heated exchange that ended with her being pushed into the SUV. One of the security agents walked to the back of the vehicle with Capri's luggage which was placed inside its trunk. I was alarmed finding another hired goon with a clear plastic bag containing the bedding which was placed inside the first car at the direction of Ms. Frakkes. I was stuck out on the street watching because my bike was on the other side of their group. I stuffed my helmet under my arm walking around the other side of the motel grounds as the caravan pulled out into the night. Ten minutes later, I was sitting on my bike dialing up Capri, keeping my promise.

"You have no shame." Ms. Frakkes answered.

"You should, Karen."

"I'd believed we'd concluded our business; but you seem inherently self-destructive and it appears I shall have to put you down."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised you feel that way Karen."

"You will refer to me as Ms. Frakkes."

"So much emotion, perhaps you should let something out if you know what I mean?"

"Please, you're pathetic; still trying to get into my panties?"

"I don't do leftovers." She started laughing gregariously at my supposed joke; I laughed along with her before hanging up in her face. I knew they were going to fuck me before I left the building right after I'd reluctantly signed that non-disclosure agreement. I'd really been left with nowhere to go until offered a chance to turn their world back on its head by another person with suspect intentions. I went into my pocket staring at the tickets that had been left behind in my apartment. Another piece of the puzzle was staring me in the face. I rolled out into the night finding lodging at another motel up the strip.

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I was out like a brick waking up with a pronounced headache that was akin to a hangover. I chalked it up to all of the action I'd been getting courtesy of the McIntyre family and their assorted entourage. Ever since I'd walked out on my girlfriend after that threesome with her and Carry Anne, there really hadn't been one day without some sort of sexual contact. Part of that had been by design; the other had sprung out of a fast association with third party Malaya Padilla. I wondered what her stake in all of this was and worried at how she'd become what was essentially my handler in this battle of wills between wealth vs well, my endowment. All of this had really sprung from my stubbornness at being a sex toy for the burnt out socialite. Her own sense of self worth and gratification was off putting and offensive in the worse way. I thought about Capri Johnson, an uninvolved party in the fast gelling scheme of things. I checked my pockets again looking at the tickets for the talk show deciding to follow the bread crumbs left by Malaya.

I made sure to park a few blocks away from the local television studio in case more shenanigans were waiting for me from Ms. Frakkes. I caught a bus over to the waiting area after buying a newspaper to hide my face as I waited adjacent to the street. It didn't take long for the line to start moving as I was led onto the lot. Turned out to be tickets for the local morning show on a channel that I never watched but was national across the country. I was puzzled wondering why I'd been sent to the studio audience. Some production assistants predictably came out to instruct to audience on how to react and applaud pointing up at a plethora of monitors that would prompt us. My tickets placed me right up front of the talk show set. I was given a view of the whole operation from my seat as the canned music began signaling the start of the show. Some tall, rail thin black woman walked out as the host and began reading the teleprompter expertly pretending to be talk to the audience. One of the highlights she outlined was a cooking reality show and one of its unlikely standouts... Chrystal McIntyre.

"Motherfucker." I groaned under my breath.

A series of clips were shown introducing the show contestants and clips from the show. When Chrystal's segment was shown, I noticed that she had been highlighted as the troubled contestant with various clips juxtaposed with her various clashes with the show's host. There was even a clip of some contestant challenge on a beach which showcased Chrystal in a somewhat revealing bikini. Some members of the audience reacted loudly to that image making me facepalm. One particular segment longer than the others highlighted my ex sitting with the show's host talking about how she was going through a toxic relationship with her supposed boyfriend.

"Yeah, I thought he loved me, but I was wrong."

"Well, that's over now Chrystal; you can have a bright future if you want."

"But I put so much into this relationship and he used me; he was a predator and its all my fault." Her posture in the video segment made it look like she was an abuse victim or something.

"What do you mean; what are you talking about, Chrystal?"

"He's sleeping with my sister while I'm trying to compete here; it's hard to concentrate. I don't know if I should stay; I have to work it out with him." The audience reacted loudly in support of Chrystal while I squirmed in my seat.

"Don't Chrystal, you've told the world how much it means to you to be a Cordon Bleu Chef. Don't give that up for a man. Years from now you'll regret tossing away this opportunity, Chrystal. Think about your future young lady." The British host tapped her on the forehead with his pointer finger as the sheep around me clapped and whooped like the paid shills they were. The host quieted everyone down waving her hands.

"Well, I'd like to inform you that Chrystal McIntyre won the competition; she's here today and I'd like you to give her a warm welcome!!" Everyone started clapping on queue except for me as the music started signaling her imminent appearance. I realized I was attending a pre-taped show to be aired after Chrystal's reality series completed its run. That meant she had already shot all the episodes while I was dealing with her sisters and grandmother. Another puzzle piece came fitting into place as Chrystal walked out on stage conservatively dressed in a blouse and skirt that barely minimized her outrageous proportions. I noticed a few male members of the audience leaning forward as she shook hands with the host accompanied by the reality show host.

"Thank you for having me; it's all so daunting with all the events, walking the red carpet and everything." Chrystal McIntyre was being turned into a celebrity and this was part of some elaborate "Wag the Dog" situation in tandem with the complete ruin of my life as a side note. I had no doubt her older sister was already putting the screws to me somewhere else as my ex-girlfriend sat on stage pretending to be this demure, troubled woman who had to be white knighted by the shows host. I almost threw up in my mouth at the prospect. I considered walking out noticing one of the production assistants motioning for me to settle down. I calmed myself knowing I would have to ride it out as Chrystal recounted her fabricated story casting me in the villain mode. My phone began vibrating in the middle of the interview. It was a text from Malaya Padilla with a very simple visual message. A flashing devil emoji peered back up at me from the face of my phone as the lights flickered for a few seconds in the studio. Chrystal and everyone on the stage looked around before joking about it and resuming the interview.

"It was a forgone conclusion that this industrious young woman would overcome such adversity personal and otherwise to win this competition. Chrystal will be in residency at a Paris based restaurant of my choosing. I'm doubtless sure that she will find a beau worthy of her wholesome ideal."

"Fucking bitch." I mumbled under my breath nearly prodded to jump over the partition and rush the stage. The almost continuous clapping was driving me wild as Chrystal faked some tears of joy.

There were two large monitors on the stage behind the seating that went to white snow static distracting everyone as the sound amped up making the cacophony almost ear splitting.

"GAK!! GAK!! GAK!! GAK!! GAK!! GAK!! GAK!!" Chrystal's face in extreme clarity suddenly appeared on the monitors, her mouth stuffed with a massive black cock. Frothy saliva and precum was running from her lips in a disgusting animalistic display for a few seconds as she stood up giving the audience a view of her magnificent body discarding the only piece of clothing she was wearing, a familiar black t-shirt emblazoned with a cannabis leaf.

"I WANT SOME BLACK COCK, N*GGA!!" Chrystal energetically jumped on the bed pushing her enormous ass towards the camera. The audience was already in an uproar as production assistants and stage hands ran about in utter chaos. Some security guard even ran onstage trying to cover one of the large monitors with a tarp. The unidentified owner of the massive cock was beating her back out with both hands locked around her tiny waist before the feed was cut. I sat there as everyone was being ushered out with my chin resting on both elbows. Chrystal looked in utter shock as a number of people attended her. She sat staring out into space blankly as people ran about and the lights came up. She robotically pulled out her cellphone staring at its face. I was so elated art the turn of events that I probably needed a tranquilizer just to come down from this karmic high. Somehow, Chrystal's head turned robotically in my direction as her mouth opened in a visible display of shock and awe.

"You." She mouthed putting a hand to her cheek. Before I could react, she was running directly at me with murderous intent only to be taken down by studio security.

"GET OFF ME; I'M GOING TO FUCK HIM UP!! I'M GONNA GET YOU FOR THIS, I SWEAR TO GOD!!" I was snatched up by the remaining security staff and escorted off the sound stage. Malaya Padilla had made good on her promise in dramatic detail earning a friend for life as she engineered Chrystal McIntyre's meltdown. I lost myself in the crowd before finding a hiding place in a public restroom. Malaya answered on the first ring.

"Can I cook, or can I cook, eh?"

"Fucking A, bitch; but you probably just got a hit put on me, for real." I felt the walls closing in considering the last twenty four hours of my life. The McIntyre's were going to rally the troops. I knew I supposed to be scared but I couldn't stop smiling.

"Have some faith, I know what I'm doing; you were going to be outed as a sexual offender this afternoon, so I did a surgical strike. I thought you 'd appreciate my work, babe. Just to let you know, Ms. Frakkes is going to be putting out a lot of fires, so she'll have to put you on the back burner. I sent her a little something just to be sure." This exotic woman was talking glibly about the shit storm she'd caused.

"I just have to ask; who are you, Malaya Padilla?"

"I already told you."

"Agent of Chaos, right?"

"You know it; it's time for you to come inside. Don't go back to your place; just go to the address texted." She hung up before I could say more. I managed to make it to the place I'd left my bike without incident twenty minutes later. I looked at the address sent knowing it was on the other side of downtown as I put on my helmet.

...TO BE CONTINUED.