Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Secret Sins: Chapter 9: "Seats of Power"
OK. Well in my job, I sometimes get odd request when I do my contract "service calls", so I thought that I 'd tell you about this one fellow.
Just another odd job in a whole plethora of odd occurrences in my line of work, but hey, who's complaining? Certainly not me.
My handler (I guess you could refer to him as my government sanctioned pimp) contacted me about "Jay", but left a cryptic note on the system to handle him with "kid gloves." Curious but with a bit of trepidation knowing some of the adventures and situations I had found in the past I presumed that this encounter would be no different, and I was correct.
I had to fly to Cally for this one and arriving at LAX, was instructed to pick up a rental car and drive to a certain fairly affluent neighborhood in order to meet my contact.
Entering a code at the gated entrance (my, these company protectorates live well) I swung the car up to park in front of the portico, checked my makeup, took a deep breath, and rang the bell.
"Yes?" came a husky male voice over the intercom by the door.
"Hi, this is Debbie from DC Properties" I said, using the code name for the real estate company I supposedly worked for, "Ben sent me".
"Come in. Up the stairs to your left, second door on the right" intoned the voice. "Lock the door behind you."
So far so good.
Nice place this one; not like many of the houses or condos I'd visited in the past. Over the course of a few years working for the 'company', I'd seen my assignments go up in stature from seedy motel rooms to brownstones in DC and NYC, and now a gated house in the 'burbs of LA. I could sense that my talents were paying off as I began to have liaisons with more than a few high profile people.
If I crouch my stories juuuust right and hide more than a few details, I just might be able to tell you about some of the better-known personages in the future, but I digress.
Finding the room in question, I opened the door so see the back of a well dressed man sitting at a desk on the other side of a well appointed office / den.
"I'll be right with you. Have a seat" came the voice I'd heard over the intercom and with a wave of the hand, motioned me towards a lovely leather chair in the corner.
Looking around, I noticed pictures on the walls of a distinguished looking man with more than a few celebrities and politicos.
"Looking at my trophies, eh?” said the man as he turned to glance in my direction. "They're the product of many years work building relationships with powerful people - some famous, some infamous as you can see.
Looking closer I could see indeed that the man at the desk was indeed golfing or dining or chewing the fat with people like Johnny "Two Tone" XXXXX, Anthony XXXXX, and yes indeed there was one with Senator John XXXXX the both of them clinking bottles of Budwiser together in grinning celebration of some triumph.
"The seats of power can make you rich you know" said "Jay" as he rose from his chair, crossing the room towards me.
I saw now that he was a slightly older version of the man pictured on the wall, very short close-cropped slightly graying hair, well built.
"They can also give you access to things you shouldn't know or what some don't want you to know, and people who can make you disappear suddenly and permanently without warning."
How well I knew this from my past dealings with 'company' witnesses.
"I've wined and dined my share of power brokers in my day and since I'm under federal protection, I guess I should get rid of this evidence, but they remind me of my past glories."
Typical huge ego making a big mistake. When you go in 'company', you're told to get rid of any pictures or evidence of this type because you never know who's who, nor what could compromise your life. "Jay" was running a huge risk living in such a large house in LA with pictures on his den wall of his past life. I instinctively sensed that this guy was a power broker who just didn't care.
"Well, let's get at it. My wife won't be home until tomorrow so we can play all we want. Stand up" he commanded in a voice that I knew was use to getting what he desired at all times. "Damned nice. Take off your dress and let me see your tits. I love a good set of tits".
For as powerful as "Jay" was, he was a bit crude as well.
Complying, I stood up and slipped the LBD off my shoulders and let it fall to my matching black Jimmy Choo's I bought in New York, and presented myself chest out for "Jay" to see.
"Mmmm. Nice rack" he said, moving towards me to manhandle my breasts. "I can see why Ben likes you so much".
Not knowing what was coming next, I thought that I'd play my standard submissive roll and let him make the moves, but he had other ideas.
"No no no" Jay said as he began to back away "I can't fuck you. I just can't. It's not right"
Sensing an opening, I turned the tale on "Jay" and walked over to him and grabbed his package through his pants while saying "Oh no you don't BITCH!" This startled "Jay" a bit, but I didn't back down. Sensing that this obviously powerful man wanted to be dominated, I ordered him to take of his pants and clothing. NOW!
A flash of terror crossed his face, but he did what he was told.
"Get into the bathroom you impotent little fuck"
Again, Jay did what he was told, and again, a look of terror crossed his face
Being the good professional that I am, and knowing that any situation I get into on these forays can get involved, I always travel prepared for any condition. Snickering through every airport TSA checkpoint, I know that the screeners are looking at in my carry on bag, wondering if I'm a terrorist. I mean, who carries handcuffs and dildos on a plane?
Reaching into my bag, I grabbed a length of cord and my good friend Gary.
Clicking my heals as I walked into the brass and marble bathroom, I saw exactly what I needed in a moments notice, so I walked up to "Jay" and standing in front of him naked, slapped him hard across the face. His ashen face turned bright red.
I slapped him again, this time harder.
"Turn around bright boy" I commanded. "Put your hands behind your back".
"Whaaa whah whaaat are you going to do to me?” asked my subject.
"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP, BITCH"! I screamed at "Jay" as I grasped his hands together and trussed them tightly together with the cord, winding it around his waist so he couldn't move.
Pushing his head towards the mirror on the wall, I leaned close in behind him and whispered in his ear with a softly vicious voice "We'll see who's in power now, won't we boyfriend".
I had grabbed a ball gag from my stash as well and now commanded "Jay" to open his mouth. He complied, half out of terror, half out of curiosity.
Shoving the ball in his mouth, I tied it securely behind his head and told him to bend over.
"Mmmnff mnnff, mnnnn" came a muffled vocalization from the gagged subject in front of me while I went about my work with Gary.
Gary is my strap on dildo. I call it Gary after a former boyfriend as it bears an uncanny resemblance to the size and girth of his member. Oh yeah. Pay back's a bitch.
Pushing "Jay's" head forward into the sink, I kicked his legs apart and began to caress his ass, which instinctively began to pucker.
"Oh no mother fucker" I said as I poured Astrolube on Gary, "You're going to get exactly what you deserve. Maybe this isn't prison, but you're going to get it and get it good".
Grabbing a firm hold of "Jay's" butt cheeks, I spread them apart.
"Mngngnd mmmrggrdd hnmmmwwaggrrd MMDGG!!!" came the muffled scream from the rag doll in front of me.
That’s when I shoved Gary in "Jay" - hard and unapologetic - just as hard as I imagined "Jay" had been in some of his business dealing.
Smirking again to myself I thought, "I guess "Jay" is going to get what he's been doing to other people all this time", and began to pump the butt in front of me with reckless abandon, without any thought to his virgin status.
“Jay’s” fighting and struggling soon stopped and not long thereafter, I noticed a copious quantity of cum shooting out the cock that had been shoved against the vanity.
Ah yes: the prostate massage works every time.
Slowing down on my thrusts to a bare crawl, I let "Jay's" ass begin to accept the girth of my dildo before popping it out in a single, quick motion.
There was a sigh of relief from my subject, and he began to relax in a slump.
Perfect! Just the thing I was waiting for!
I shoved Gary into the puckered ass in front of me as hard and fast as I could, burying it all the way up to the straps.
"Mmmnff mnnff, mnnnn MMDGG FUUUNGG!!" intoned "Jay" as he stiffened.
Heh heh heh. I can be such a vindictive bitch when I want to be, so I withdrew Gary from my victims ass in one fell swoop.
Pop! went Gary, and "Jay" collapsed on the floor.
"Now get rid of the pictures on the wall you mother fucker unless you want what just happened for real - or WORSE!" I screamed at him. "Jesus Fucking Christ! You're under the protection of the Some Very Scary People for God knows why, and nor do I care, but if you don't give a fuck about your butt, then neither should we."
"Jay" was sobbing on the floor as I undid his ball gag and untied his hands.
After cleaning off my beloved dildo, I left my client right where he was to think about things.
The trip back to LAX was uneventful except for the TSA idiots that pulled Gary out after X-Raying my bag and holding it up for everyone in line to see queried me "What's this?"
"You should know, you are one" I shot back at the moron.
I guess I'm in the wrong business if I hate people on a power trip, but like I said, pay back's a bitch.
As a coda to the story, Ben called me a few days after I got back home to thank me for doing a wonderful job out in LA. "I don't know what you did, nor do I WANT to know what you did, but my superiors wanted me to thank you personally".
It seems "Jay" had been holding out information from the 'company', but now he was chirping like a bird.
Hmmm. I wonder if the military could use me at Gitmo...