Jake knew it was a trap. But the bait was so delicious. He always thought redhead pussy tasted best. Maybe it was as much presentation as flavor. On this one, the carpet—or at least the throw rug that she kept—matched the drapes. He loved the way her folds turned so pink with her excitement as he slurped and fingered, especially in contrast to the translucent porcelain of her inner thighs that never saw the sun enough to get freckled.

As expected, King had tried the carrot—with her almost-orange hair—before the stick, but Allie might be both. Jake had turned down the blowjob saying he wanted to fuck her after he got her off. Dropping to his knees in front of her where she sat in the client chair in his office, he lifted her skirt and ripped open the crotch of her pantyhose—the knees already had holes, whether fashion statement or occupational hazard. She had been trying to fake an orgasm to move things along, but he would stop whenever she did.

“I don’t want to fuck a dry cunt! From in here, I can tell when you really cum,” he insisted, wiggling his fingers against her g-spot.

She wasn’t faking the aromatic syrup that was dripping out of her. Who knows how often she actually got to enjoy her sex work? Today she would whether she wanted to or not.

Sliding forward in the chair, her squirming became less theatric but synchronized with the twitching Jake felt. She seemed to like pressure, so he gave her a flat tongue, grinding up and down. He worried she might be making her move when she grabbed his head, but the pulsing squeeze on his fingers told him he had accomplished his goal.

The pleasure clouded her brain enough so when he misdirected her by licking his fingers, he was able to grab her purse with his dry hand. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was in trouble and sit up. By then, he had pulled out her gun.

“Mr. Slatter…, Jake,” she said, her voice still shaky. “A girl needs protection these days.”

He flipped the cylinder and emptied the ammo into the handbag, then put the gun back.

“And what would you have done if I had let you grab it when my pants were around my ankles?” Jake knew the answer.

“King is willing to make a deal to get back his crypto,” she confessed, putting her skirt back down. “He just wants to be sure you’re the one who has it.”

His fingers explored the bottom of the bag to find the Gizmo under all her lady things. It looked like a cell phone, but thicker than was fashionable, with a gray bureaucratic case. Allie looked terrified that he found it.

“Don’t worry, doll, I’ll get this back to the rightful owner.”

He reached into his wallet and pulled out some large bills.

“Allie, honey, he’s going to be mad that you failed. Take this and go straight to the airport. Catch the first plane to a small town you’ve never heard of and start over. Don’t go back to that slum he keeps you in.”

She took the cash but said nothing as he showed her out, passing through the outer office. When the outside door closed, he turned to his secretary at her desk.

“I know, unauthorized expense,” he admitted. “Add it to my list of sins.”

“Do you think she’ll do it?” she asked.

“They never do,” he sighed. “But I bought my conscience one night’s sleep.”

Betty rose and walked from behind her desk to give him a hug. Tall and blonde, with a face and body to get any guy to swipe right, she never lacked companionship.

“I love that you tried,” she whispered, her soft breasts against his chest, her tresses tickling his face. Her hand slipped lower until it playfully grabbed the metal cage around his cock. “It’s a good thing Mistress had you wearing this, or Allie might have gotten the drop on you!” she teased.

He was in the chastity device because he had fucked the police lieutenant. It had been a big risk and it had gotten him into his current position. Time would tell whether it led him to his doom or salvation.

His secretary was right. He wouldn’t have turned down redhead head except for that constraint, but he still thought Allie wouldn’t have gotten the drop on him.

Betty had saved him—or maybe they saved each other—when they met in rehab fifteen years earlier. They had been mostly sober since. She took care of the business side of things when she wasn’t binge-watching something during the long hours when there was nothing else to do. Good with the computer, she handled taxes and such and edited the incriminating videos he took for his divorce and insurance fraud cases.

She liked getting out of the office on occasion and had helped with some investigations. When a beautiful buxom blonde picks a lock to get in the back door of a store and photograph some allegedly stolen merchandise, the security guard who finds her is more likely to believe she got lost looking for the bathroom.

When she gathered her things to leave for the day, Jake held the door for her and watched her long shapely legs walk her swaying ass down the hall. Although she was off-limits, he could still appreciate the pulchritude that made his imprisoned dick try to escape.

He left to wait outside Doyle’s apartment. Looking good in spandex, she had probably stopped at the gym on the way home. The beefy guy with her moved to manhandle Jake when he saw him but froze when he saw the Gizmo.

“While you two were working up a sweat, I retrieved this from one of King’s relations,” he smirked. “I could have used it myself, but I’m always ready to assist our women in blue and their FBI boytoys. You owe me one.”

The guy reached for it, but Jake sidestepped him and handed it to the local cop.

When she passed it to him anyhow, Jake added, “Be sure to document the chain of custody.”

Betty’s phone call woke him early the next morning. “It’s bad, Jake. Allie’s dead. Drug overdose. They found her in her room.”

Had she used his money to buy the drugs? Had she killed herself or just got some bad shit? Had King’s thugs murdered her that way? It didn’t matter. It was his fault. He was in over his head and he had dragged her into it.

“Find out when Mistress can see me.” His voice was as dead as the redhead.

“I already set it up. Be there in a half hour.” Betty knew what he needed. “Go straight there. They’re watching the office,” she warned.

Betty had introduced him to Mistress in the early days when he would relapse or sink into depression. Psychologist, confessor, disciplinarian, healer—she gave him what he needed to stay alive, to make a living, to have a life.

He waited at her door at the appointed time, not allowed to knock, standing up straight although his anguished soul was slouching. It seemed like she made him wait, although he dared not fidget or check the time. Finally, the door opened and he stepped inside.

As always, Mistress was clad in skin-tight black leather from her neck to her high heel boots. Raven-black hair draped halfway down her back. Her face was obscured by a black lace veil that revealed only the suggestion of eyes, nose, and mouth. Somber bride or widow, she was a dark figure to root out the darkness in his soul.

Despite a routine he had done so many times, he waited for her cues. “Prepare yourself,” she commanded.

Quickly and neatly, he undressed and stood naked on the usual spot. He was relieved to see her walk to the table and pick up a key.

“Sentence served,” she noted, handing it to him.

He extracted himself from the chastity device and placed it and the key on the table. The usual implements were laid out for their session.

“Position one,” she intoned. He leaned forward, elbows and eyes on the table. “Lateness. Ten.”

She picked up the wooden paddle. Thwack! A blow landed on his ass.

“I will be on time. One,” Jake winced.

Thwack!

“I will be on time. Two,” Jake repeated his promise as he counted.

Thwack!

So it proceeded until he said, “I will be on time. Ten. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Unauthorized expenses. Thirty,” she pronounced the sentence and delivered the first swat.

“I will not waste money. One,” Jake began. The process continued until he concluded, “I will not waste money. Thirty. Thank you, Mistress.”

By then, his butt was red and hot with a dull ache. Those were the minor infractions.

“Position two,” she commanded.

Jake moved to stand facing a wall. There was a bar on a frame, like some exercise equipment, adjusted to be a few inches over his head. With his hands and feet spread, he grabbed the bar.

“For licking the girl, twenty.”

Swatch! The flogger landed a dozen leather tails on his upper back. The impact area was as big as a hand, but it wasn’t shared like the paddle. It was like a dozen separate stings.

“I will control my lust. One,” he recited.

The second one landed on his ass, reawakening the pain that had started to fade.  The flogger roamed his back, ass, and thighs, looking for new skin to burn or revisiting spots to fan the flames.

When those twenty were done, she moved to the greater offense.

“For doing it while sentenced to chastity, thirty.”

“I will comply with my punishment” was his mantra for that set.

It felt as if she had missed no spot by the time he gasped, “I will comply with my punishment. Thirty. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Is there anything else?” she asked. Of course, she knew there was.

“The girl…,” he started with a mumble, but he knew he had better speak clearly when she had an implement in her hand. “The girl, Allie, is dead because of me,” he lamented. They both knew what was next, but she would not prompt him. As tears welled up in his eyes, he blurted, “I deserve the cane.”

“You deserve it, do you?” Her voice cut him as much as any stroke she had delivered. “Like you deserve ice cream for eating your vegetables? Do you think a few whacks with a stick is going to make things right?”

“Please, Mistress,” he begged. “I’m falling and can’t stop. I think I can do some good, but I can’t get past this. Please teach me with your cane.”

Caning sessions were interactive. Mistress would interrogate him about what had gone wrong and what mistakes he made that got him to where he was.

“Assume the position,” she directed.

There was a custom piece of furniture for this purpose. Kneeling on a step at one end, he would lay his torso on the bench. The other end had loops to slip his hands through. Looking down at the floor, he couldn’t move to reduce the impacts.

“What did you do wrong?” she demanded.

“I should have made sure she got to the airport,” he whined.

Oowhap! The cane whistled before making a sharp impact across his ass cheeks, reintroducing him to a new level of pain.

“It was too late then, wasn’t it?”

Oowhap! She laid a stripe across his upper back.

“I should have just let the police handle it.”

Oowhap! Another to his ass.

“Why didn’t you?”

Oowhap! The strike across his upper thighs was right at the level of his dangling nuts, which were saved only because they hid an inch deeper between his legs. She was digging for the root cause.

“Because I wanted to have sex with Lieutenant Doyle.”

Oowhap! She hit the same spot. The shock wave that it transmitted to his balls made him think she had actually hit them. Tears dripped off his nose into a puddle on the floor.

Mistress knew his deadly sins. Once again, she would try to burn them out of him, like a surgeon with a laser, as she forced him to relive and reconsider the actions that brought him to that point.

< < < ripple dissolve > > >

Joyce was a brunette who had a bowl cut and bangs that made her look like she wore a motorcycle helmet. Not quite yet middle-aged, her eyes were red from crying, like most women and some men who came into his office seeking his services. Jake offered her a seat and she spun the tale of how her husband had made some money in cryptocurrency. It seemed so easy, he moved their life savings into it. Things went well until today.

“It’s all gone,” she cried.

“Well crypto is volatile and there are a lot of scam currencies,” Jake observed. “Nothing I can do about it.”

“No,” she protested, “it wasn’t the market. Someone took it from their account. The encryption security is supposed to be so good. He saw it last night when he was talking about it to a disabled veteran at Houlihan’s. But this morning, it had all been transferred to someone else. The accounts are anonymous, so there’s no way to know who took it. My husband says it’s hopeless and wants to kill himself.”

Jake realized he had a good idea of who was involved.

“Tell your husband to wait. I’ll take the case and see what I can do. No promises, since I’m no expert at this stuff. I just need two days of my standard rate in advance.”

She looked morose. “Oh, I don’t have that. I get paid next week. But I’m good for it,” she pleaded.

He knew Mistress would penalize him for violating the payment policy. “Are you sure you can’t get the money from a friend or something? If you had it, I could begin right away.”

Joyce ran her tongue around her lips in what she probably thought was a seductive manner. “Isn’t there something I could do to get you to waive the deposit requirement?”

With more makeup than she had used since she was married, the bright red lipstick would not have been her color. Her skirt was probably shorter than any she had worn in fifteen years. She wasn’t bad looking for a woman her age, but Jake guessed the oral skills she was offering were subpar. However, he had noted her plump ass when he held the chair for her.

“If you let me fuck your butthole right here on my desk, I’ll start as soon as we’re done,” Jake proposed. He had found that the direct approach worked best in such negotiations. If you got offended talking about it, you weren’t going to do it anyhow. The punishment for sex and money would be worse than for just the money, but he’d rather be punished for being bad than for being nice.

“Even my husband has never done that,” she gasped.

“Surveys show that four out of five women enjoy it from time to time,” he perorated. “Two out of five men also say they like getting their butts poked on occasion—the other three do too, but don’t want to admit it!”

He extended his hand and helped her to her feet when she took it.

“Just lean on my desk there, Joyce,” he said, gently stroking from her shoulders to her behind. “Relax. It will be more fun for both of us.”

He fetched lube and a condom from a drawer and moved behind her. Massaging her rear, he lifted her skirt and pushed her pantyhose to her knees.

“Oh, that’s nice,” he cooed, bending to kiss her soft spheres as his hands kneaded them. Kneeling, he pressed his face into the divide, seeking her pucker with his tongue.

She jolted and whimpered at the hot wet probe in such an intimate place. As he massaged and licked, he could feel her relax from the pleasant if unfamiliar sensations.

He expected her to twitch when he dripped the cold lube into her crack, but as his fingers spread it around her opening she sighed. She reacted again when he pushed a slippery finger inside, but sighed again as he tenderly swirled within. Continuing as he stood and unfastened his pants with his free hand, he worked a second finger in as well.

Rolling on the condom, he applied a coat of lube to it, withdrew his fingers, and pressed his cockhead between her cheeks.

“Push back against me,” he instructed, letting her control the insertion force.

It went in surprisingly easily, but she immediately clenched. Leaning to stay inside, he went deeper. He repeated backing off a bit, then forging ahead until his belly was tight against her seat cushions.

“Not too bad, is it?” he whispered as he ground against her.

“Strange, intense, but… interesting,” she conceded.

Given the circumstances, Jake wasn’t inclined to try to make her completely enjoy it and figured he shouldn’t drag it out.

“One advantage of this position is you can imagine I’m whoever you want,” he suggested, slowly rocking in and out.

Looking down at the prime hindquarters that seemed out of place on this housewife, he mentally replaced her top half. The picture he had seen of that voluptuous actress in a thong bikini seemed to be a good match. He mentally scripted the dialog. You want a part in my movie? First, we have to explore the deep subtext of your back story!

Gripping her hips, he began fucking in earnest. Careful not to withdraw too far, he plunged in again and again, faster and harder until he could hear the slaps as he impacted her warm flesh. Not holding back, it wasn’t long before he grunted his spurts as the sweet heat coursed through him. He rested against her only for a moment, then slipped out.

Bending to kiss her cheeks, he used some tissues to tidy her up before restoring her garments. Her makeup minimized the flush of her face—whatever the cause—when she stood up.

“Go home and give your foolish husband something to live for,” Jake said as he put himself in order, then escorted her out of his office.

Betty smiled at her as she left but shook her head when the door closed. He shrugged, knowing Mistress would get a full report.

When Joyce mentioned the disabled veteran and Houlihan’s, Jake knew she must mean Limpy. His supposed war wound was self-inflicted; he shot himself in the knee while playing with a gun when he was a teenager. He’d never done military service, but he had some fake medals and pictures that he used in his various cons—from getting a free drink to bilking little old ladies.

Crypto was way over his head, though, so Jake headed to Houlihan's to find out who was the brains behind it.

“Hey, Limpy,” he put his arm around him in a mock-friendly manner. He was a guy who looked dirty even after a shower and a clean shirt; Jake guessed it had been a few days since he had had either. “You seen this guy?” He showed him the picture of Joyce’s husband.

Limpy gulped, then stammered, “N-no, I don’t think so. But I see a lot of guys… and I’m usually in places where the light’s not so good… if you know what I mean.”

Jake waited, knowing he would keep talking and maybe say something useful.

When the silence got to him, Limpy blurted out, “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” Remembering Jake went sober, he corrected, “No offense, just trying to be friendly.” But Jake had him.

“Where’d you get the money?” he demanded. “You haven’t bought anyone a drink in ten years. You’re always in hock to King.”

“I did him a favor and he wiped me clean,” he bragged. “Even gave me a little extra. I guess it worked out better than he expected.”

King ran most of the crime within a ten-mile radius. For any action he didn’t own, he would demand a cut to allow the crooks to operate in his area. He also collected protection money from most of the business owners and paid off most of the cops. Jake always tried to stay out of his way.

He grabbed Limpy’s arm and bent it up behind his back, ushering him into a booth in the corner and sliding in next to him.

“Limpy, old buddy, I’ve been reading about this crypto stuff, but I don’t get it. Why don’t you give me a tutorial?” he said, keeping his grip on Limpy’s wrist and applying pressure upward.

“You know I’m too dumb to understand that shit,” he squawked. “Leggo my arm.”

“I know, That’s why I want you to tell me who is involved and how you did it. Look, we can go back and forth and you can resist until I break your arm. Maybe you’ll get more sympathy from marks with your arm in a sling. But you know you’re going to tell me. So why don’t we cut to the chase and we can discuss it like gentlemen.” He almost lifted Limpy off his ass as he bent his arm farther upward. “Besides, you’re just helping me decide not to take this case. You know I don’t want to tangle with King.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you,” he hissed, moving his arm in front of him and rubbing it when Jake released it. “If you tell King or word gets out I told you, he’ll kill me. But he’ll kill you too if he finds out you know.”

Limpy looked around to be sure no one was close enough to hear.

“Somehow he got this Gizmo. It’s CIA super spy shit. It looks like a Russian cell phone, gray and clunky. All I have to do is turn it on and if someone uses their crypto wallet nearby, it can steal their keys. It’s like magic. I take it back to King and he uses it to empty their accounts. That poor slob last night was so proud to show me all the dough he made in crypto, but King has it now.”

Jake shook his head. He couldn’t very well take Joyce’s money if that was true. He wasn’t going to risk his life going against King even if he could figure out how to get it back.

“He’s only let me do it a few times and always sends out one of his goons to keep an eye on it, so don’t get any ideas about stealing it from me,” he continued. “King worries it might attract attention if used too much, so he uses different hustlers around the city. The score last night was the biggest one so far.”

“Thanks, Limpy,” Jake said with some sincerity, patting his sore arm. “As you said, we both have a reason to keep this quiet. Be careful. Not everyone you run into is as trustworthy as me.” With a laugh, he got up and left the bar.

Jake told Betty what Limpy had said and that he was going to tell Joyce he couldn’t do anything.

“I’ve been reading a little about this stuff. It’s crazy,” she explained. “People think it’s secret, but the transactions are all there in the blockchain for everyone to see. The only thing is you don’t know who has which account. Since Joyce gave me their account information, I can see the transfer that took it and see where it ended up. So that must be King’s account.”

Her fingers flew over her keyboard.

“Why don’t you let me see what I can find out. Maybe we can give Joyce enough info to get the police interested.”

The next day, Betty showed him what she learned.

“There’s this dark web rumor that the government is working on such a Gizmo. They call it QUAISI—Quantum Ubiquitous Artificial Intelligence Signal Interpreter. It uses quantum-level sensing to collect all the tiny electronic signals in the area, even those that leak when using a crypto wallet. Then it applies Artificial Intelligence to identify and extract from the noise the ones that are crypto keys.”

“How the fuck would King get his hands on something like that?” Jake pondered.

“Gotta believe the government would want to get it back,” she mused.

“I think I know just who would most like to do that and take King down in the process,” he ruminated, going into his office to place some calls.

Now-Lieutenant Lucy Doyle had been an occasional bedmate during their drunken wilder younger days. Her police-inspector father had been the highest-ranking honest cop in the city. Lucy rebelled against his strict moralizing and Jake was happy to share in her bacchanalia and benefit from the nepotism that would get them out of jams with the law.

Sadly and ironically, King had framed her dad for taking a bribe, despite his decades of refusing them. He was forced to take early retirement in the scandal. Around the time that rehab finally worked for Jake, Lucy joined the police force, hoping to one day avenge her dad.

She was currently dating an FBI agent. Jake had an idea of how to use these circumstances to get what he wanted. He arranged to meet her at a coffee kiosk in the park and sat alone with her on a bench.

“I’m telling you, Lucy, King is laundering money for terrorists,” Jake laid the groundwork. “He’s doing it through crypto. There’s a lot of crypto purchased in sketchy parts of the world going through his account. He keeps a cut and sends the rest to places where it’s converted to anonymous hard currency.”

“Why doesn’t the FBI handle it?” she asked skeptically.

“They can’t know which account is whose. They’ll never get a warrant for a fishing expedition. But I can connect the dots to King.” Jake got her attention.

“Remember that ransomware attack where they recovered the crypto? I heard the CIA has something that can spy on crypto transactions. If your G-man can borrow it, you could use it to tie King to terrorists. You’d both get commendations and promotions.”

“I know when something is too good to be true,” she sounded skeptical. “What’s in it for you?”

“I’d be happy to get rid of King, but I admit to an ulterior motive.” He took a breath. “I want to have sex with you.” Knowing the slap was coming, he had set down his cup and absorbed it with a chortle. “In front of your boyfriend,” he added, getting a second smack that made him see stars.

“Fuck you,” she snarled.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I want, babe. I want you to fuck me,” he smirked. “Look, I’m not going to get any reward or promotion for helping you and your paramour out. So pay me in the currency you know I want.”

“Well at least it’s no longer too-good-to-be-true,” she frowned. He could see the gears turn in her head. “If it gets rid of King and helps Tom and me, I suppose I can throw you a bone.”

“A bone, exactly,” he laughed. She huffed at her unfortunate word choice.

Jake would set it up. They would meet at a local no-tell motel to consummate the deal. After having sex, Jake would tell them where to go to let King steal some FBI crypto and record it. He pretended he didn’t know exactly how they could do that but was guessing there was a way. They could then get warrants to investigate his accounts and stumble onto the foreign money laundering.

< < < fade out fade in > > >

In the motel room, Lucy and Tom were in plain clothes for the sting. She quickly stripped; he sat in a chair, disgruntled, watching.

“Let’s get this over with,” she growled.

Jake took his time undressing, ogling the body he had kissed and licked every part of back in the day. Still looking quite tasty, she was slim, with small, saggy tits that made her normal-sized hubcaps seem huge. She was in good shape; he imagined her and Tom working out together—both ways.

Finally naked, he made her cringe and lean away when he hugged and tried to kiss her.

“Okay, I get it. No romance. Let’s see if I can’t make this more fun,” he said, pushing her back onto the bed and kneeling between legs that dangled to the floor.

From the length of her stubble, Jake concluded that the couple hadn’t done it since she told him the plan. Remembering how she liked to be eaten, he dove in. Slowly, she began to respond despite her reluctance. He reached up to appreciate her booblets while his tongue danced around her pussy. Her familiar sighs and soft moans tracked their progress as he sampled her brewing stout.

Raising his head for a breath, he saw she had her eyes closed. Tom was staring at his lover as she responded to another man; his pants were stressed by his hard-on.

“Keep watching. You’ll finally see what she looks like when she cums,” he taunted.

She raised her head and glared at both.

“Look, I’m ready,” she barked. “Fuck me so we can get going.”

“We have time,” Jake cooed. “The meet isn’t for an hour.”

“Oh, I remember times you didn’t take more than a minute,” she jabbed.

“Touché,” he laughed. “But I’m not drunk this time!”

He gave her folds a final treatment before standing and getting a condom from his pants.

< < < wipe right > > >

Looking like a psychedelic rainbow, the woman clacked down the alley to the rear entrance. With bright pink hair teased high and wide and sparkly blue platform shoes, she seemed to be as tall as the tough guy blocking the door. He eyed her orange tube top, which barely hung on her awesome breasts and left her midriff exposed. The tiny yellow skirt covered only the legal minimum of the lime-green stockings that encased her long legs.

“I’m here to see Mr. King,” she said.

“I don’t see any appointments on his schedule,” the man wisecracked.

“Tell Mr. King his niece Gina wants to see him,” she said defiantly.

The man’s attitude changed and he tapped his phone. King had a lot of “nieces”. “Where did you say you were from?”

“Paris… Tennessee,” she sneered. It was like a password to prove who she was.

A glance at his phone confirmed she was on the list.

“Uh, Joey will show you to his office,” he turned to hold the door open for her.

She pushed past him, saying, “No need. I know the way.”

She knocked on the door at the end of the hallway and waited for him to say “Come in.”

“Pardon the weird outfit,” she said as he looked her up and down from his seat behind the desk. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here, and I figured no one would recognize me like this.” She sat down on the chair opposite the desk.

“Poppy!” he exclaimed when he finally realized who she was.

Tall with a deep voice and a rugged look, you’d rather he was your friend than your enemy. In a designer suit, he spoke and looked like one of the city's richest businessmen—and he probably was except that most of his businesses were illegal.

“You know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me over the years,” she began. “I wanted to let you know that Jake Slatter is investigating some sort of crypto scam. He hasn’t figured it out, but he thinks you’re somehow involved.”

“That’s nice of you to tell me, but everybody does crypto now.” He wasn’t about to reveal any details, whether or not he was into crypto.

“I know you like to keep tabs on guys like him who might get in your way. But I have an ulterior motive,” she gave him a seductive smile.

King sat up straight. “And what would that be?” he sounded almost playful.

“I’ve been through a lot of guys on those dating apps. So many lie and post fake pictures of their dicks that when I see them in person, they’re a disappointment. I’ve almost forgotten what a real cock looks—and tastes—like.” She licked her lips and so did he. “I was hoping you would remind me.”

She smoothly slipped from the chair to her knees. King strolled around his desk and stood in front of her. With the bulge apparent, she deftly unfastened his belt and dropped his pants and boxers, uncoiling a python.

For some, “big dick energy” was a figure of speech; for him, it was reality. Feeling it continue to expand as she held it with both hands, she moistened the head with her saliva. Taking just the knob between her lips, she sucked hard and pulled it out, making a popping sound.

“Oh, ‘My Poppy’,” he chuckled, using the nickname he gave her because of her trademark maneuver. “It’s been too long.”

She had to open wide when he had achieved his full size. Using her increasingly slippery hands, as well as lips, tongue, mouth, and throat, she teased, squeezed, and worshipped his royal staff. Proving she enjoyed her work, she was not in a hurry to get him off. She had his head blocking her air deep in her throat with him teetering on the edge, but she backed off, giving him another pop as she pulled him out and slapped her cheek with his meaty member.

Back at work, she was bobbing her head on his shaft when there was a knock at the door.

“Fuck off! Go away!” he bellowed.

“But Mr. King,” a weasely voice whined. “You told me to come as soon as I got one!”

Poppy had stopped and let go when he yelled. He looked down at her patiently looking up at him.

To her, he said, “Stay there.” To the door, he yelled, “Alright, come in.”

She looked down and away to avoid being recognized, but she identified Limpy’s syncopated gait. King shuffled pants-down behind his desk and played with a keyboard. With her head below the level of the desk, she dared a sideways glance at the scammer, whose mouth hung open as he stared at the crime boss’s endowment; not shy, he wouldn’t mind him blabbing about it.

“One just showed up, I don’t even know from where, but I have a line on a good one tonight,” he bragged.

“Shut the fuck up and go!” King boomed, making him skitter out of the office. The woman looked apprehensive as he moved back in front of her. “I don’t like to mix business with pleasure,” he cooed. “It can lead to complications.”

She looked up and met his eyes. “Was that business?” she played innocent. “I thought he brought you a sandwich and was going to get you another one later,” she giggled.

If he had been worried about what she might have seen or heard, he quickly forgot as she resuscitated his organ and soon had him racing toward his peak.

She slowed as if wanting to extend the session with another cycle, but he groaned, “Don’t stop. Make your uncle happy now.”

Grabbing his ass, she forced her lips down his shaft and opened her throat. Her gulping with him deep pushed him over the edge.

“Oh, Poppy, you’re the best,” he sang as he filled her throat and she swallowed without choking. She milked his full load and swirled some aftershocks around his glans before she popped him again.

“Uncle,” she would only dare to call him that at times like this, “you’re the best.” She tenderly kissed and licked him dry. “If my date tonight has only half the cock you do, I’ll be happy.”

She pulled up and fastened his pants and belt before standing up. He held out some cash.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful, Mr. King, but you already gave me the reward I hoped for,” she said, licking her lips.

He gave her ass a smack and sent her on her way.

< < < wipe left > > >

Lucy moved her ass farther onto the bed and raised and spread her legs.

“Come on, you dick, and I don’t mean your profession. You got me worked up. Are you going to shoot as soon as your willy touches my cooch or can you earn that taste of my pussy punch?”

Jake knew she was trying to rush him, but he had other plans.

“Don’t worry. I remember what sends you to the moon. I bet he’s too insecure in his masculinity to get you off the launchpad. Let’s show him.”

With that, Jake jumped next to her on the bed and mimicked her position, raising and spreading his legs and holding them apart with his hands. His rigid pole lay flat against his belly, totally vulnerable.

“Climb on, Luce. Fuck me amazon style. Show your Special Agent how you want to take him!” he teased.

Jake watched them exchange embarrassed looks. He had finally gotten to Lucy.

“Alright, asshole, we’ll see if your prick is up to it.”

She scrambled to lay between his legs on top of him and lowered her pussy onto his cock. Doing so pulled it down his body at an angle that was almost painful—almost being the important word because it also felt exhilarating. On that edge of pain was the possibility of intense pleasure. For her, the tension made it grind against all her sensitive spots under her control.

Looking down at him with fire in her eyes, she started fucking. Even though he was going inside her, she was in command and he could only lie there and take it. She was mad, but they had had some of their most memorable sex when she was angry.

“Go on, Lieutenant, make yourself cum on my P.I. pole the way his Federal phallus can’t,” he taunted.

“Shut the fuck up!” she yelled.

The combination of rage and lust made her change position, bringing her legs up to a squat. Her feet bracketed his ass, her knees pinned his thighs wide as she rode him, slamming her ass onto him as she pistoned his cock inside her.

With his hands no longer needed to keep his legs apart, he reached for her titties. Hanging down as she leaned forward, they looked like droopy tear drops, puffy nipples pointing down, jiggling wildly with her thumps. He tugged and rolled them the way she liked. They might not look as fashionable as the water-balloon implants that many women get, but Jake knew the powerful sensations they generated in her.

Lucy was past caring about the loud grunts she was making or about the scheme that got her to fuck an asshole from a past that she’d rather forget or about how her current lover was taking it. Her strong, agile, lustful body was re-experiencing pleasure that memory had dimmed. Maybe she had to play the damsel with Tom, but she could rip this motherfucker’s dick off with her cunt.

When she held her breath, Jake did the same, leaving only the juicy shwick-shwick-shwick of her thighs against his as she worked toward her orgasm. Jake was thrilled when she cried a long “aarrgghhhhhh” as she kept riding; it was sudden and loud enough to startle their witness; Lucy would deny ever making such a sound.  When it stopped, she coasted to a few final bounces before she sighed and settled her full weight onto him.

Although she had closed her eyes when she peaked, Jake kept his open, wanting to see that intense, horny o-face one more time. Only when she stopped moving did his overworked cock spasm with rapture that he, too, had not enjoyed for many years.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked shocked, as if she had forgotten how she got there. Exploding into a litany of obscenities, she rolled off him, grabbed her clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom.

The two men heard the shower running as Jake got dressed and gave Tom the details of running into Limpy and letting him steal his crypto.

“Limpy has been running cons his whole life, so he can smell a setup. Don’t be too eager. I told him you cheated me at poker, which is why I tipped him off to you. Remember, he’s just a flunky. You need him to get you to King. Then you’ll stumble across the foreign money laundering.”

“It turns out the Bureau does not need your advice about how to do a criminal investigation,” he sneered. “Since you’re officially Lieutenant Doyle’s informant, I’m going to pretend I don’t know what arrangement she made with you. But I’ll tell you this: it’s a good thing I left my weapons in the vehicle. And you don’t ever want to run into me alone.”

“That’s fair,” said Jake. With happy hormones still flowing through his veins, he was in a congenial mood. “I know I crossed a lot of lines tonight. But you two are going places once you break this. So allow me my carnal moment, because that’s all I get out of it. I do wish you both luck in this case, because I want to see King go down almost as much as Lucy does.”

Jake stood and paused with his hand on the doorknob.  “I know I said a lot of shitty things to get her to do what I wanted. But—man to man—you saw what that did to her; you really should try it!” He dodged out the door before Tom could find something to throw at him.

In the motel parking lot, a woman in a long overcoat moved in the shadows. With pinned-down hair and dirty sneakers, if anyone saw her, they’d quickly forget her.

Moving behind the car, she opened the trunk with a quiet click. She had picked the lock on the briefcase earlier, so it was easy to slip the Gizmo back where she found it, lock the case, close the trunk, and disappear into the night.

< < < fade out fade in > > >

“Oh… my… gawd!” Betty exclaimed, having just used King’s key to see what was in his crypto account. “Over fifty fucking million,” she whispered. She sounded scared and Jake knew they should be.

“We need a plan,” Jake proposed. “The FBI will take a few days to root around looking for terrorist money before they realize it’s just crypto theft. Once they find out that King has the Gizmo, the government will want it back.”

He took Betty’s hand. “We’re done in this city, doll. But this will let us go wherever we want.” She still looked nervous. “Once we’re safe, we’ll split it fifty-fifty. You know I love having you around, but I’m not in your league, so we can go our separate ways. You’ll be welcome at my estate anytime,” he joked.

“And you can visit me on my island,” she forced a grin.

Having something to focus on seemed to calm her down.

“How about Acapulco for our first stop?” she suggested. “I’ll book separate round-trips for the weekend, so nothing will raise any red flags.

Betty did her usual efficient job and they were set to go. The question that remained was when to transfer the crypto from King’s account. If they waited too long, the feds might seize it. Of course, King and his army would be after them as soon as he noticed it was gone.

The plan was to lay low until their flights Friday afternoon. Hell, they could transfer it at the airport before boarding the plane.

Wednesday afternoon, Jake heard Betty scream like she was getting a root canal without novocaine. He rushed to see what had happened. Ashen-faced, she stared at her screen.

“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I think I fucked up big time.” She was almost in tears. “We need to take the crypto right now and go!”

“Why? What? How?” He was confused.

“I was setting up a transfer for Friday to turn Joyce’s crypto into cash for her but I made a mistake and it happened now. If King sees a transaction he didn’t make, he’ll know something’s wrong. He could move it all to a new account in a second.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Take it all, now, just like we planned to do on Friday.” He considered while she typed away. “I actually did think about this possibility. Just because it disappeared, why would King think I had it? Maybe whoever sold him the Gizmo had another one. Maybe Limpy double-crossed him.”

“It’s done,” she reported quietly. The look of terror on her face was infectious.

“Besides,” he tried to reassure himself as well as her, “if I do have it, how is he going to get it back from me? If he kills me, the password to unlock the wallet dies with me and the crypto’s gone for good. Worst case, he’ll want to make a deal to get back most of it.”

He gave her a rueful smile. “Then he’ll kill me.”

< < < ripple dissolve > > >

Oowhap! The back side of Jake’s body seemed covered with horizontal stripes.

“So you blame your secretary for ruining your plans?” The inquisition was nearing its end.

Oowhap! Jake’s body was so ravaged, he could scarcely feel more pain from the blow. He was so long past tears that his blubbering words had earned him bonus strokes until he spoke clearly.

“No, no, I was dreaming about being on an island somewhere with Betty. I completely forgot about giving Joyce’s crypto back.”

Oowhap!

“Money changes people. Even when it’s phony money like crypto. It can make them forget what’s important.”

Oowhap!

Having looped back to why King sent Allie, he had completed his tale. Mistress had tried to get him to identify and understand his mistakes; to rewire his brain with words and pain to avoid them in the future; to accept the past and move on. The catharsis wasn’t instantaneous, but the process had been started.

She tenderly painted his inflamed tissue with lotion before telling him to get dressed. He donned the loose t-shirt and long-leg boxers she provided to cover the damaged skin.

He needed to focus on the escape plan for himself and Betty. He was in deep shit and had put her at risk, too. Having lost so much crypto as well as the Gizmo, King would go scorched-earth. Jake felt safe with Mistress, but when he walked out that door, he would be a marked man—for King’s thugs and his crooked cops.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said when he was ready to leave. “For everything.”

Since he was blowing town for good, this would be his last session.

“Give your secretary the wallet. Let her take her planned flight this afternoon.” Jake had never received such direct advice from Mistress before. “You will be a decoy. Be seen around town until her plane takes off.”

He would be happier knowing she was safe.

“Then return here. They will be watching the airport for you. I will leave the garage unlocked. Take my car and drive to meet her.”

With the guilt and self-recrimination beaten out of him, Jake could see the logic of this gambit. Mistress would save him one last time.

Spending a few hours making brief appearances around town at his usual spots, he looked for Limpy, but no one had seen him. He didn’t really want to know if the jerk skipped town when he heard things were bad or if King got him before he did. When Betty texted that she was in the air, Jake found Mistress’s car as promised and headed out of town.

< < < road montage > > >

It took several days to get there. Worrying the Feds might be after them as well, Jake stayed at seedy roadside motels and communicated only with brief texts on their burner phones.

“Well tie my cock in a knot!” he intoned in shock and awe when he stepped into the luxury suite of the exclusive resort. Not for the five-star décor and amenities or the secluded private pool area that looked out over the ocean, but for Betty.

She wore a lavender bikini, the top of which lifted her bountiful breasts into cleavage and barely obscured the size and shape of her nipples. The tiny thong bottom seemed to emphasize more than hide her cameltoe. The rest of the vision was blonde tresses that cascaded to her shoulders and her goddess-like figure tanned golden by the time spent in the sun while awaiting his arrival.

Jake had never seen—or imagined—her like this. She was hot in her office garb and steamy when she was leaving for a date, but this was nuclear.

“Were you expecting someone?” He supposed she had been checking out the locals on her dating apps.

“I was expecting you,” she emphasized. “There’s something important I want to tell you.”

She strode toward him with such purpose he thought she might slug him. Instead, she grabbed his head and gave him a hard deep kiss.

“I quit!” she asserted when she broke for a breath, then gave a softer, warmer, longer version, pressing her body against him.

Reflexively, his hands found her naked back and ass cheeks. Nonetheless, he was flummoxed.

“Mistress wouldn’t allow anything inappropriate between an employer and employee,” she giggled. “And I want to be inappropriate with you.”

Dazed, he let her lead him next to the bed where she dropped his pants and slipped off his shirt.

“Oh you poor godforsaken man!” she keened, noticing the welts on his back. Sliding his boxers down, she traced the stripes that had begun to heal. “Mistress can be so cruel.”

“Mistress only gave me what I needed so I didn’t get drunk or blow my brains out or both,” he murmured.

“I know,” she soothed. “I know.”

Squatting, she tugged his boxers down, stroking and kissing the marks on his butt and legs. She pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed to finish undressing him. Grabbing the swimming trunks next to him, she stuck his feet into the holes.

“Come on,” she stood him up. You should relax after your long drive. I ordered some food. We can take a dip in the pool.”

The room seemed to be spinning for Jake as he tried to comprehend what was happening. He almost staggered when, before she finished pulling up his swimsuit, Betty actually touched his cock. As titillated and surprised as his brain, it responded as she gave it a squeeze and a pump, then playfully licked the head, looking up at his incredulous eyes.

“There will be time for that later,” she laughed, standing and yanking the suit to his waist and leading him out to the pool area.

Over chilled seafood and local specialties, they brought each other up to date. Since she arrived, Betty hadn’t just lounged in the sun; she had moved the crypto around to cover their tracks and converted it to real currency in multiple off-shore accounts.

“Not only did we get Joyce her money back but, feeling munificent, I reversed a few other of King’s transactions that looked like similar scams. Don’t worry, they weren’t significant amounts—although they might have been to the victims .”

Jake shook his head in admiration of the woman whose heart was as beautiful as her body.

“Did you hear? They aren’t going to arrest King.” She tried to sound disgusted—as if he had found some way to escape prosecution—but she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Turns out they found his drunken body in a stolen sports car wrapped around a tree. It was a surprise since he usually rode in his limousine with his bodyguards and his crimes were long past grand theft auto. I guess it’s not good to mess with the CIA.”

They shared a laugh.

“One side benefit: since only King could unlock his wallet,” she snickered and winked, “everyone assumes his crypto is gone for good. Your cop friends can’t pursue their case against him but will probably get commendations for helping the spooks get back their Gizmo. Doyle will be happy King is dead. With him and his money gone, she and her good-cop friends should have an easier job.”

Jake hesitated about joining Betty in the pool until he saw how the water made her bikini practically transparent. It was still hot when they took a break as the sun lowered over the Pacific.

“I could get used to this,” he purred as the two reclined on adjacent chaise lounges.

Betty rose and bent over him, tugging his suit down and off his feet. Kneeling between his legs, she began playing with his cock.

“Are you sure?” he said, surprising himself at his caution. “We have been family for so long.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since I got here. I’m sure,” she said, emphasizing it by lowering her mouth onto his pole. She slurped a bit to lube it, then looked him in the eye as she pumped it with her hand.

“Why me?” His insecurity raised its head. “With the money, you could have any guy you want.”

“Despite your hedonistic flaws, you’re a good guy, Jake. I’m not saying I’ll be exclusive or expect you to be….” Her fingers were becoming persuasive. “But I want you in my life.”

Licking from the base to the tip, she coated his dick with her saliva. Bobbing up and down his shaft got him to full length and hardness. With her lips tight just below the helmet, she sucked hard and lifted her head with a loud pop, grinning at his delighted expression.

Her noisy slobbering had her drool dripping to his balls. Standing up, she gave him a devilish grin as she untied her bikini top and shrugged it off. She pulled his legs to rotate them off the side of the long chair, kneeling between them and proffering her soft mounds to enfold his cock.

He squirmed, embedded in that pillowy softness. As she moved up and down, the shiny head disappeared into her sweet ravine and emerged again. She moaned softly as she pinched her nipples between her thumb and fingers while she maneuvered her tits.

An urgent groan gave her the warning that he was too mesmerized to speak. Abandoning her boobs, she opened wide and descended on his cock. With his time in chastity—and non-stop running since—his tank was full to bursting. With the bulb lodged in her throat and the shaft milked by her cheeks and tongue, he erupted, his body jerking with wave after wave after wave of hot ecstasy.

Betty kept him ensconced until his twitching stopped.  Slowly withdrawing his cock, she paused when she reached the ridge, sucked hard, and lifted her head with a pop.

Jake could hardly think much less move with the hormones dancing through his body. The sky’s red glow from the departed sun made him wonder if he had somehow made it into heaven.

“My turn,” he said when he was once more able to speak.

Deciding he wanted more room than the chair allowed, he led her inside to the bed. He pushed her onto her back and slid the thong down and off her legs.

He nuzzled her recently-shaved vulva, kissing and licking the puffy outer lips that hid her secret folds. Wanting to show he too had some skills, he used lips, tongue, and fingers to bring her to a too-easy orgasm; her excitement from sucking him had given her a big headstart. He eased off but she encouraged him to continue.

Reaching up to play with her tits, he renewed his labia lapping. Before long, she was again shaking and gasping. Cradling his head when the tremor subsided, she guided him up next to her.

Jake was pleasantly surprised when her hand found his cock already hard again. Wasting no time, she grabbed a condom she had stashed under the pillow. She rolled to kneel between his legs and tore it open.

“Are you some holy succubus?” he exclaimed as he watched her put the tip of the condom between her teeth, lower her head, and use her mouth to push it onto his resurgent cock. She got it past the knob on the first go; then she took him deep, unrolling it to the base with her tight lips.

Crawling astride him, she kissed his mouth, disclosing the banana flavor of the prophylactic while she impaled herself on it. She rode him cowgirl, making her tits dance, luring him to juggle them. Feverishly, she got herself close before leaning forward, letting her pendulous boobs tickle his chest. With eyes locked on his, she shimmied herself to another climax, letting him feel her cunt clench his dick.

Collapsing on top of him, she purred warmly in his ear, “I think I have one more if you can fuck it out of me.”

Jake hugged her tight. “I’ll do my best!” He was determined to show her he could compete with her customary studs.

Rolling on top caused him to slip out. He lifted her legs so her calves rested on his shoulders then leaned forward to fold her knees to her tits. His cock sank deep inside her with a squish. He started slow but she urged him to go faster. Somehow, he found stamina he didn’t know he had and she soon shuddered with another climax.

“Keep going, Jake,” she begged. “Fuck me til you cum.”

His recent climax and physical exertion made him take longer. While his hips slapped against her thighs, she reached to hold his face. Years had made him jaded about love, but her eyes inches from his reminded him what it felt like.

“Oh, Betty… Betty… Betty…,” he crooned as the ecstasy washed over him.

“Oh, Jake!” she squealed in response as she quaked with a sympathetic orgasm of her own.

She pulled him down to her, freeing her legs so she could wrap them around him. When the afterglow faded, she giggled, “I guess you found an extra I didn’t know I had.”

They settled next to each other and fell asleep. In the morning, Jake woke alone. He looked for her in the bathroom but found no trace. Her discarded bikini was the only evidence she had been there. He finally noticed an envelope on the desk.

In it was a thumb drive and a letter:

Dearest Jacob,

I love you, but I don’t want to spend my new life saving you from yourself. You know that if I gave you your share, you’d fall back into your old ways.

Here is enough for you to take your own advice: Find a small town and start over. Stick to divorce and insurance.

Be the man that you know you can be, the man that I know you can be.

Yesterday was an incentive for you to prove you can do that on your own for a year or two. If you do—and I really hope you do!—when I get my island, I’ll come and get you.

Love always,

Mistress Elizabeth