David's Revenge

So ended my first 'assignment.'

Next was a prominent politician of Kenyan descent. He took only one night and got me pregnant with twins. I delivered the children with twelve hours of labor, and I was exhausted.

But I posed for the obligatory photograph, holding my children while I kissed his organ.

The letter was not conducive to my ex-husband's taking me back. Tough shit!

My next lover was a professional American football player (no, not soccer) whose wife did not want to 'ruin her figure with childbirth'. It didn't matter to me; the money was still good.

And his cock was HUGE.

Unfortunately, it took two four-day sessions 'to knock me up.' What a shame!! (HEH, HEH, HEH) I carried his spawn for six months.

(This pregnancy would come back to haunt everyone.)

In between births, I was pimped out to black men for sex. I was used. I was well paid because I was talented.

But I was just a hooker.

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

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

Back to the present, and David and friends.

My divorce went through thanks to my solicitor and a sympathetic magistrate.

The fact that my 'wife' was unavailable to talk, and her lawyer kept stalling, got the time changed and the action sailed through. Susan and I were married three days later in a small ceremony.

Sir Robert and his wife Cynthia, along with Jimmi, Patrick, Onkan, and Badrick stood up for us.

The plans proceeded, and we were close to pushing the button. We had formulated several courses of action. Press releases were prepared for all the major news and sports outlets.

(Anonymously, of course.)

We contacted Scotland Yard, MI-5, Interpol, the FBI, the Police nationale (formerly the Surete), the United Nations, the NFL, MLB, and the NBA.

All the major sports organizations have morals clauses.

When we contacted Scotland Yard, we were put in touch with Chief Inspector James Barnaby.

He started a legitimate investigation based on prostitution charges and violation of the anti-slavery laws. As it progressed, they also looked at tax evasion charges.

(Hey, in the United States, that's how they got Capone. The Internal Revenue Service.)

Time passed as we finalized our plans. I got a second 'birth announcement.' She delivered twins, two boys.

Jimmi said they had to move soon.

Mr. Kincaid had recruited two more women and was working on the third. It was 'go' time.

The third couple frequently attended the club where Julie and I had been accosted. We started shadowing them.

Skeeter installed the trojan code in the financial records. It would take the money but leave the bank records.

The women would be broke but would be on the hook for the funds. 

The evening of the strike, we followed the couple to the club. Patrick and Onkan went inside and got a table.

Jimmi took up surveillance out in the car park, along with Badrick and myself. We had done this several times before and really didn't think tonight would be any different.

That's when Lucius and Samuel showed up.

They parked the Mercedes out back and went in the back door.

It was the night.

There was a third man with them, the driver.

I had never seen him the night of my marriage's destruction. We watched and waited.

About two and a half hours passed, and suddenly, they came out laughing and joking. The driver had never gotten out of the car. Samuel, Lucius, and an attractive blonde with very nice tits walked towards the car.

We, Jimmi and myself, got out of our Land Rover and started to the left-back door. Patrick went to the right side of the car but off to the side, out of sight.

Lucius and the woman got in the back seat. Samuel closed the door and went to get in the passenger side front. That's when we made our move.

The downside of being in the U.K. was we had no firearms.

No worries.

We packed collapsible police batons, and tasers. We also, like Americans, carried brass knuckles and saps.

As Samuel opened the door, Jimmi slapped the side of the car.

"Hey, mate you've got a flat tire. Right there," he said as Samuel turned and went to look.

As he bent over, Jimmi hit him with both sides of the taser. He jerked and went to his knees, pissing himself.

On his way down, he hit him with the baton, and he crumbled. The driver shouted "Hey," and got out of the car. Patrick came up behind him and laid him out with his baton and then hit him with the sap in the back of the head.

With both front doors open, Jimmi hit the door locks to make sure the back doors were unlocked, and he and Patrick jerked the doors open. The blonde screamed, and Jimmi shushed her.

"Quiet, now Luv, and go back inside to your husband. Maybe he'll take you back, maybe he won't." She scrambled out of the car and ran.

Lucius was scrambling to speed dial his phone when I grabbed it from his fat hand. He stared at me and stuttered, "What do you blokes want??"

I shined my torch in his face, making him squint, and snarled, in my best tough-guy voice, "What's wrong, don't you recognize me? When you steal a man's wife, you could at least take the time to study his face, so that when he comes for your sorry ass, you'll know, YOU FAT FUCK!!! "

That's when I hit him with both sides of my taser. I flattened his already ugly nose with my baton. The guys secured the two blokes' hands behind their backs with T&B structural ties. The kind with the metal tabs, so they wouldn't pull through. We tied up the driver, but gagged him and blindfolded him. We dragged him behind the dustbin and left him.

Meanwhile, Patrick and I changed the license plates and substituted two we had purloined from a SEMR vehicle recycling yard. We popped the boot and put Lucius and Samuel into it. Shutting the lid,

Jimmi and I got in the car, and we started it up and left, followed by Patrick, Onkan, and Badrick in the Land Rover.

As we drove, Jimmi called Skeeter.

"O'toole."

"Execute, execute," Jimmi said.

"Copy," came the reply, and the line went dead.

Skeeter hit two keys followed by the 'Enter' key. The financial virus started to run, and, within seconds, the money was 'gone'.

Well, it was moved, ALL of it, to an unnamed account in the Cayman Islands.

From there it hopscotched around the globe, winding up in Seychelles.

We were all very well off, till we split up anyway. Then the program terminated the electrics, the water, and the gas to the manor house.

It then ent a second mortgage application to the bank, with back-dated notices showing it to be two years delinquent. The bank's file immediately was flagged to indicate that, for some reason, no action had been taken for two years. then the power to the office building was terminated, and the water and the security system were shut off. Then the virus 'disappeared.'

We drove to the West end of the London docks, to a block of abandoned buildings. One of them had a small windowless basement. The basement had been prepped with two heavy metal straight-backed chairs that had been bolted to the floor.

We pulled up in the alley, got out, and opened the boot.

We dragged the unconscious Samuel out and down the stairs. The other guys showed up and followed with the limp form of Lucius Kincaid.

We cut the two of them loose and sat them in the chairs. Then Jimmi and I took knives and cut off all their clothes, leaving them naked, and we zip-tied them to the chairs using T&B tie wraps.

They started to come around. Samuel was the first to regain consciousness, and I put a ball gag in his mouth.

"Hi, mate, remember me? You took my wife and told me not to follow them."

His eyes bugged out, and he vigorously shook his head 'no'.

"Oh, you don't remember me? Maybe this will jog your memory."

With that, I punched him as hard as I could in the gut. He shrieked around the ball gag and slumped in the chair, groaning.

By now they had finished doing the same treatment to Lucius. The man was truly obese and really wasn't anything special in the prick department.

I stood in from of him.

"And you! I have you to thank for destroying my marriage and putting me through two years of hell."

He stared at me with hatred in his eyes.

"Thanks, fucker!" and I drove my fist into his face. His cheekbone broke, and he went unconscious.

I stepped back, rubbing my fist.

"Feel better, Mate?" said Jimmi.

"A little. Thanks, Jimmi."

He reached over and waved smelling salts under both men's noses, or what was left of Lucius's nose.

Finally, they came around.

"Now," said Jimmi, "This is what is going to happen to you. We are not going to kill you. However, we ARE going to leave you here. If you can escape, more power to you."

With that, he took a razor blade and just cut the back of their legs and forearms. He didn't sever any nerves or muscles, but he did draw blood.

"Luck to you, mates."

We went upstairs and blocked the door to the cellar.

We got in the vehicles and drove to Heathrow Airport. We took the Mercedes to long-term parking. We paid for a month and went to the top of the garage and parked it.

The guys were waiting for us downstairs in the Land Rover. Patrick and I got in, and we went home.

We got home, Susan met me at the front door and stared at my face, looking deep into my eyes.

"Are you better, love??"

"I think I have almost exorcised her from my soul. One more action and we can get on with our life. Meanwhile, I think we can practice our celebration," I said to her with a happy grin on my face.

Susan smiled back and led me upstairs to the double walk-in shower. She started the water and turned to me, slowly removing her clothes. She looked me square in the eyes and said, "Jamie has approved."

smiled at her and shed my clothes. We embraced, and the kiss was all I had hoped it would be. I led her into the shower and dropped to my knees.

I blew on her Mons as the warm water flowed over us. She moaned and whispered, "It's been so long.

"PLEASE be gentle, and take your time."

She looked down at me and smiled.

"We didn't do much as far as oral. We had not been married long when he left and was killed." She started to tear up.

"I loved him so much."

"Don't worry, I will take good care of you. Jamie will be pleased. Our first son will be named Jamie David." Then I smiled at her again.

"But first we have to get one started." I ran my tongue over her labia and gently sucked her clit. She gasped and shuddered as she climaxed and almost fell down. I held her up and stood in front of her. I kissed her.

"OH, MY GOD, THAT WAS SO WONDERFUL!!!"

I looked at her.

'Hasn't there been anyone else since Jamie died??," I asked.

"Yes," she whispered. She looked at my face. "YOU," she said.

Julie's final story, Present day.

I awoke to some consternation. My ladies were scurrying around, trying to find enough candles to illuminate the room. The drapes were open to let in the rising sun, but none of the lights were on.

I stirred in bed and rolled over to sit up. Being six and a half months along in the gestation of the football player's child, I was starting to get a little clumsy. Not only was his cock big, but the child was too. They rushed to my bed and helped me to sit up. I immediately noticed how cool the room was, and they came to me with a bathrobe. I only helped a little.

"What is wrong?," I asked.

"Miss, the electricity does not work, and the heat is off. The phones don't work, and we hear people running up and down the halls and the stairs. We don't know what is happening. I am worried," said Yola.

"Alright, let's get dressed and see what is happening."

They got our heaviest clothing out of the wardrobe, and we got dressed.

We went out into cold, dark halls and made our way to the stairs. We opened the stairway door.

The darkness was illuminated by the emergency lighting.

They helped me down to the ground floor, out into the dining hall.

The dining hall was illuminated by many, many candles.

The girls helped me to the table, and I sat down. There were about twelve other women there, and they were all talking back and forth.

Then Stella the redheaded woman from my first day walked in. She was about four and a half months along with her fifth child.

"Has anybody heard from Lucius?"

Heads turned to look all over. Several women shook their heads and murmurs started again.

She sat down with her two female attendants behind her.

"Has anybody got on their laptops and tried to communicate with the company, or Lucius or Samuel??"

The overriding answer was no.

"WELL, THEN I SUGGEST YOU TRY, YOU STUPID COWS!!"

One of the women had brought her laptop with her and fired it up.

Now, when Skeeter had shut off the electrics to the manor house, he had left the internet account up and running. The shock came swiftly as more of the 'ladies' got on line.

Everyone's money was gone.

The company headquarters was 'unavailable'.

They could not find Lucius or Samuel.

About this time, the staff came in and found out they were all 'broke'.

It also turned out that fifty-two women were currently 'employed' or 'retired.'

They were all around the world -literally- and some had started small businesses, and some had remarried.

The staff brought tea and coffee. But as the realization dawned on everyone, the exodus started.

Several pairs of attendants left, and soon there were thirteen distraught women, many of them pregnant, shouting and screaming at everyone, and no one.

The day wore on. Some of the ladies went to their rooms to dress into something more suitable for going out into the world.

But most did not have anything that could pass anywhere but in a club- or a bordello.

Then there was transportation. The Mercedes was nowhere to be seen. The only other vehicle was a Lotus sports convertible. That soon 'disappeared', commandeered by two very scared women.

Some tried to call people they had on their private cells, some even calling their ex-husbands.

(That went over not well.)

But most had cut all family ties. Even parents refused to answer their calls.

THEN the real fun started. At about three p.m., the Constables and Scotland Yard showed up, followed by the newsies. The gate was breached, and over fifty coppers entered the house.

Armed with search warrants and ARREST warrants, they started taking us into custody.

The bobbies were very courteous to the ones of us that were with 'child'.

Not so much the female coppers.

As we were led out to patrol cars, several people were making identifications.

AND THERE WAS MY EX-HUSBAND. At last, I saw a ray of hope. (That didn't last long.)

"David", I screamed. The look I got was withering. He walked up to me and pursed his mouth as if to spit at me. Then he swallowed his phlegm.

"Yes, officer, that's Miss Julie Conners."

"Miss Conners, you are under arrest, for prostitution and tax evasion. You have the right to make no statement with out having a solicitor present. If you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand your rights?"

"Please, David, you're my husband," I wailed.

"Not any more, you Fucking Cunt." He turned and walked away.

I sagged to the ground, and for the first time in almost three years, I wept.

DAVID, PRESENT DAY

The shit storm just kept building. The news networks ran with the story, and, while there weren't many crimes, public opinion was decidedly against the 'company'.

They were bankrupt and in receivership.

Lucius Kincaid could not be found.

The Crown was proceeding with prostitution charges against the company and the women. Also filed were tax evasion charges.

But the public outcry only lasted about a week and a half. Then the media switched to 'Man bites dog' stories. The local politicians were hounded mercilessly and many were forced to resign.

It turns out that several of them were above board with their spouses about the 'sperm donations;' NOT so honest with the method of 'collection.'

Several solicitors made a small fortune off of the subsequent divorces.

Athletes were not that badly hit. They and entertainment stars were deemed, 'What do you expect??'

The athletes did suffer significant hits on endorsements. More on the athletes later.

Chief Inspector Barnaby advised me about the 'raid' on the manor. I was there. Susan, Sir Robert, and Mr. Hendrixx also. I got interviewed (on the telee, not by police), and Sir Robert also answered questions.

Then I saw Julie.

She did not look good. All the sex and no love had taken a toll. That was not helped by being 'broke'.

She was also under arrest. The charges of prostitution and tax evasion were hanging over her. That was when she saw me. I noticed the light burst in her eyes. Then she withered as she saw the look on my face.

"DAVID!!" she screamed.

I walked towards her, and Sir Robert missed my move. Sir Robert turned to catch me, but Susan was already at my side, holding my arm.

I walked up to Julie and the female Constable holding her handcuffed arms. I 'hawked a luge' as the Yanks say and prepared to spit at her.

But Susan squeezed my bicep and I hesitated. I turned to the Constable and said, "Yes, officer, that's Miss Julie Conners."

"PLEASE, DAVID, YOU'RE MY HUSBAND!!!" she wailed.

"Not any more, you Fucking Cunt!" She stuttered and cried.

That's when Susan got between us. "YOU BLOODY COW. Thanks for throwing him away!!"

Sir Robert and Jimmi showed up then, and we turned and walked away. I approached Chief Inspector Barnaby and stuck out my hand.

He took it, and I said, "Thank you, sir."

He shook it and said, "Good luck, son." We turned and left.

EPILOGUE

The fallout was minimal after a few weeks. Many divorces occurred, both in England, on the continent, and in America.

My ex-wife was convicted on all counts but received probation on the prostitution charges due to her advanced condition.

However, the Crown was not so tolerant on the tax evasion charges. There was a huge fine, and it was structured out over several years.

Her parents came and posted her bail but kept her on a short lease.

Then she gave birth, and, unfortunately, they were not so tolerant of her mixed-race child.

After explanations and some counseling, they had to admit they fell in love with him. Her,.......not so much.

They grudgingly accepted them into their home. (Because of him, not her.)

Then they got socked with the custody lawsuit from the footballer and his wife. It went to court, and when the 'particulars' came out, his wife blew up in court. Seems she was not on board with the method of collection.

Unfortunately for her, she could not keep her legs together.

When he was in England the two times servicing Julie, she was seduced and screwed by the new acquisition to the team's running backs squad, one Marc La Valliere. The ensuing altercation between the new running back and the middle linebacker, I believe him to be, resulted in Marc ending up in the hospital in New Jersey for several weeks, and the middle linebacker in jail. Too bad.

The money was divided up to all the 'participants', and the bulk donated to the Queen's Children's Fund and the Crown's Battered Women's Fund.

Julie went on the dole, the lawsuit died because the wife was no longer interested, and that was that.

Susan and I gave birth to Jamie David, followed closely by Susan Cynthia.

Must be something in the water.

Lucius and Samuel were never found, despite the Yard's best efforts.

Again, too flipping bad.

I don't know what happened to Julie. After the first phone call asking me to forgive her and take her back, the laughter was too much for her.

She hung up. I never heard from her again.

Thanks for hanging in there with me. I know it was a long read, but I tried to tie up a whole bunch of loose ends. I also would like to thanks George Anderson for coming up with the greatest ASSHOLE in the history of Literotica- Marc LaValiere. I didn't think it would hurt anything to have him beat to shit again.