This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment.
JPMMURPHY
Chapter 3
Fox News – Presidential hopeful, Republican, Kerry Richard's campaign manager today announced that Richards would be taking a day off. An unusual move in any campaign less than ninety days before the election. Sarah Lightfoot, Richard's campaign manager, fell short of claiming exhaustion, knowing that could call into play the twenty year age difference between Richards and his opponent, Arthur Wright. In truth, recent rumors of sexual impropriety during Richard's Senatorial years may be closer to the truth. While rumors fly, no hard facts have come to light.
Denzel Layton, trade name, Denny Lay, sat at his desk, head in hand, wondering again, how the hell this could have happened. He was sure he didn't do it and, to his knowledge, no one else had the passwords to do it, but there was no denying that Griselda Slayton, trade name, Jenny Gee, could be found through any of the most popular search sites, giving the audition of her life. His hottest property had gone from 19 year old, Christian pop singing sensation, to black cock slave overnight.
Denny Lay knew it would only have boosted her career if her venue had been rock or funk. Hell, look what similar things had done for Paris and Brittney, he thought. But no, his personal, hidden camera take of little Griselda, standing in his office in a long white dress, guitar slung across her shoulder as she sang praise to all things mighty and saintly, had somehow made it from his hard drive to all the popular video sharing sites in the world.
If saintly notes and words had been the only things in her mouth, then there would be no problem.
He poured a little more bourbon into his coffee cup and clicked play once more.
"That's great, Griselda. I mean that. Really I do," Denny said, the sincerity button set to full.
He cringed at how clear the audio was, how easily his voice could be identified.
"But you know; there are a lot of pretty little blond girls, just like you, that can sing a church song just as good as you can. What can you show good old Denny Lay which no one else has shown him, honey?"
He cringed again at how obvious his come-on was. No way to claim
it was all a mistake
. But just to make sure the lid was hammered on nice and tight, sweet, petite, straight blond haired with those oh so cute bangs, little, 18 going on 19, soon to be Jenny Gee, just had to say a few things first, didn't she?
He watched as she lifted the guitar toward her chin and the strap slid over her head. Stepping forward she leaned it against the front of his desk and stepped back, hands clasped in front, fingers wringing, when out of those beautiful, red, hymn singing lips came the words that made her career.
"Well, Mr. Lay. I done sung fer ya. Why singin' the words a God almighty is what I was put here on his good earth ta do. I jes' know it is. I got lots a talent and I learn real quick. I can show ya' whatever ya want."
A slight swing of her hips and nervous smile was what she felt should highlight that moment. Denny chugged his coffee cup at the sight of her thin, boyish, figure suddenly developing a hip that made her dress swish like a big old bell. She may have even blushed, Denny wasn't sure. But Jenny hadn't finished, had she?
"So you jest tell me what ya wanna see ... If'n you can get my message ta more a' God's good people, then I'll show ya jes' anything ya want."
By that time he could see the image of his own back on the screen, having walked around to lean on his desk beside the guitar.
"Well, sweetie, you know, I don't know if you're really ready for all the work, well, and things, that making a real star, well, getting the Lord's word out, involves."
Yep, he'd said that. He had to admit it. Things like that had always worked in the past, and a few more seconds of video was going to prove it still worked. The little foot stomp was cute as hell, the defiant stare and pout had 'Lolita' written all over it.
"I don't know what ya be a meanin' Mr. Lay. I'm gonna be 19 in six more months and I ain't never found nuthin I cain't do."
"Yeah, but you'd have to go on tour, travel in a tour bus, maybe even share a room. I mean, we don't stay in the Hilton until you really make it big. It all gets real personal. I mean, well, you know, we're all professionals, and, well, I might have to see you naked from time to time. You know, changing costumes, things like that."
He watched the video as her hands wrung and her long, white, look of innocence dress, rung like a bell again. Then he saw himself leaning against the desk, his black skin shinning through his bald spot like a little beacon, his pate of short grey fuzz setting it off nicely.
Then she did it. He grabbed the bottle and started pouring another as Jenny Gee's hands came undone and reached behind her back. He chugged another half cup of Jack as she leaned forward, actually placing one open palm on his chest so she wouldn't fall, letting the front of the dress slide down her arms.
Straightening up, her arms dropped and so did the dress, and there was Jenny Gee in her very small, very pink, cotton bra and panty set, white dress in a puddle around her white, patent leather, strap on, pumps. Thank god it wasn't Grrr' Animals, Denny thought as he poured another.
"There," was all she said. Her hands clasped in front again, some more nervous wringing of her hands and then her knees knocked together and the hip went out once more.
Denny just hung his head, knocked his coffee cup with his knuckles and listened as his voice came up, as if on cue, loud and clear.
"Well, Griselda, see what I mean? You're not ready yet. Hell, everybody sees everybody like that at the beach. I mean, that's okay. You can come back when you're ready and all, but I mean, you have to understand. What would you do if I walked in the dressing room and you were getting ready to go on stage? What if we had to talk about the order of the songs, things like that? Important stuff. I mean, you can't stop getting ready just because someone walks in your dressing room. Why, you'd just have to come on out with nothing on, put your make-up on, and get dressed. We can't announce that the concert is delayed because your manager needed to talk to you before the show. Now can we, Griselda?"
Denny looked up, he couldn't help it. He knew what was going to happen next. Besides, this was where CNN always stopped showing the video. This was the part everyone had to go out to the internet to see. And there it was; that sad little whine as her hands came up again to unsnap her bra and let it fall. He could actually see a tear as her thumbs hooked into her little pink panties and pushed them down.
Another chug of half a cup of Jack, and Denny actually stopped breathing as he listened to himself on the video saying, "Much better, Griselda. Now, just one more thing..."
He watched as his image on the computer screen pushed off the desk and turned sideways to the video camera. His hand was already fishing in his pants. And there it was. Manhood hard and in his hand while he motioned her to a spot on the floor in front of him.
"You have to kneel, sweetie. It's just like praying and I'm going to fill you with the word," his voice sing songed like an old fashioned, Baptist preacher addressing his flock on a hot Sunday morning.
The interruption caught Denny off guard and he promptly poured bourbon all over his keyboard.
"Denny, honey," his wife stood at the door to his home office, two men in ratty suits and preposterous ties could be seen standing behind her, "These gentlemen are detectives and would like to talk to you about a case of theirs." Denny just stared at his wife.
*****
The captain took the white 'Leo's Diner' paper bag and motioned Linda to a chair in front of his desk.
"Ummm. That Leo sure knows how to make a burger."
Pointing at a red folder on his desk, the captain stepped out to microwave his burger back to life, and left Linda to start reading.
After a couple of bites and due praise of Leo's abilities with a spatula, the captain started summarizing as Linda continued to read.
"Yesterday, a United flight out of Denver, lost all electronic avionics, cabin lights and radio on an Airbus 300. It only lasted a couple of seconds and control of the plane was never lost. After returning to the airport, without incident, a strange anomaly was discovered," the captain paused for another bite.
"What does a commercial airplane have to do with the ICB," Linda asked.
The captain raised a hand as he took a quick drink of soft drink before continuing. "It seems this plane has in-flight internet service for first class. It also seems that once it landed and diagnostics run, they found nothing wrong."
"Sounds like a problem for the French, to me, Captain."
"Maybe. But there's more. After three hours on the tarmac, a complete change of all system boards, full diagnostics and the plane was certified flyable. So, off they go toward the end of the runway. About half way down the taxi lane the plane shuts down. I don't mean the avionics went dead again, I mean engines, lights, cockpit; hell, everything went dead. It was as if the plane had no power at all. Anywhere."
Linda was still leafing through the report. "I still don't get it, what does this have to do with us."
"Five minutes after being dead in the water, all systems come back up. Everything. The pilot taxied back and told the tower he wanted a new plane. The tower agreed and an hour later, off they go. United calls the Airbus people and they have someone there by midnight. Here's their CONFIDENTIAL report," the captain threw a stapled bunch of papers across the desk and settled in to finish his burger.
After about five minutes Linda looked up and asked, "How's this possible? How can a block of what appears to be damaged memory in something as simple as a router cause something as complex as an airliner to shut down?"
The captain tipped back in his chair and
basketballed
his wadded burger bag into the trashcan by the door. "Well, we have another thing to go with it. You have a radio in that chariot of yours?"
"No. Wasn't standard equipment when it was built," Linda answered, still flipping pages, scanning a few.
"Have you heard the latest bible belt gossip?"
Linda just rolled her eyes.
"Well, you do know who Jenny Gee is don't you?"
"Gee, as in God or Gee, as in, gee-whiz, I'm an idiot?"
The captain chuckled, "Yep, that's the one. Well, seems a certain audition tape, well, private video audition tape made it off her manager's computer and onto the internet. Also seems that Miss Gee-Whiz may have been coerced into trading a few very biblical favors for her ride to the top over the past year. Glad recipient, direct from, or maybe it's, direct to, the mouth of Jenny Gee. I get confused," the captain feigned a look of befuddlement before continuing, "Anyway, one Mr. Denny Lay, sometimes manager, full-time philanderer, has been caught red handed accepting said biblical favors.
"So, at the request of the prosecutor's office, NYPD talked to Mr. Lay at his house at three in the morning, east coast time, and confiscated his computer. Said computer was immediately put on a commercial flight and has landed in our office.
"Seems that while Mr. Lay does not deny what's on the tape, he has absolutely no idea how it got off his computer and onto the internet. He swears on a stack of bibles," the Captain chuckled at that, "or maybe it was, Jenny Gee's head he swears on. Anyway, he swears he didn't put it there and doesn't know who did."
Linda finally found the account about 20 pages back in the first report she'd picked up. Skip reading, she found the words she thought were important. '
