This is the twenty-second installment of
Mrs. Hart's Ache
Chapter XIII "
…When the party's over…
"
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Author's note: see the Index of Terms for the definition of any word with which you are not familiar.
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This is a simple tale of retribution, wherein the young hero teaches the mother of his newest girlfriend a few manners while enjoying a few adventures – sexual and otherwise – along the way.
James Mark Masterson.
Just your typical teenager. Smart… sexy… sophisticated… and always horny. With the time and bank to do pretty much what he wants to do.
And to do who he wants to do.
Operation Honeymooners is on, and the troops are taking the villains down.
It's not pretty, but someone's got to do it.
Lydia, Marco and Wendy (otherwise known as 'Fat Ass', 'the putz' and 'Tinkerbelle') are locked up and awaiting punishment. Some are more pissed than concerned.
They should be concerned.
The mission is to get two of the three to give up the discs and the cash, then get outta town.
It's going to take some convincing, but James and his gang have all the time and tools they need.
Happy Reading.
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Chapter XIII "
…When the party's over…
"
"My job is to break her." Maxine mused. "I've got to find a handle. Something that will kick her feet right out from under her. She's got a dream. Something she wants so bad, she can taste it…"
The adrenaline rush had faded fast; gone by the time Maxine and I got back to Gwendolyn's. It was time for the next phase of Operation Honeymooners.
We had given ourselves six days to break them. All told, it took a little less than three. In the end, they gave it all up.
I had noted that there had been no casualties during the take-down at Lydia's place. Since Marco probably would not concur with that BDA, I mentally ammended it to read no friendly casualties. But that his head and coĵones were aching might soon be the least of his worries. What a nimrod.
Maxine and I arrived to find everyone downstairs with the captured villains. We checked the monitors upstairs before we went down ourselves.
Marco was just coming around. Saundra stalked in the door as we watched. The ladies had stripped him to his briefs and secured him to a chair. A collar circled his neck. His arms were cuffed behind his back; his ankles to the chair legs. A strap was cinched around his waist. He wasn't going anywhere without help. Sorry asshole, no can do. Try the next window.
Lydia was in another cell. Gwendolyn Marti and Cora stood watching and making lewd comments as she slowly removed her clothes. She didn't appear to be at all frightened. She was pissed. She should have been frightened.
Maxine was right. Lydia was tough. She didn't scare easy. But we had lots of time to convince her of the error of her ways. She'd break. Everyone breaks when the right pressure is applied.
Humiliation was the key to Lydia in my mind. Well that and the fear of twenty or so years in prison. Even so, pain she could take. Humiliation was something else. Her ego was in for a beating. We'd keep beating until she gave it all up.
At the time, I hoped we all had the stomach for it.
I thought Gwendolyn and Saundra could take it. No doubt. Cassandra and I too. I wasn't worried about Maxine. She'd keep her eyes on the goal. She was as mentally tough as Lydia. If anyone would have nightmares, it would be Marti and Cora. My idea was that we'd let them get their licks in early, then ease them out of it. They didn't need the grief.
Time out.
That shows you what I know. Those two ladies are a lot tougher than I'd imagined. Cora and Marti not only stuck with it, they came up with a few wrinkles of their own. Marco and Lydia had committed serious no-no's. Cora and Marti made them pay for their sins. They didn't like all of it – none of us did – but they didn't have nightmares about it.
Time in.
Wendy was back in her own cell with Cassandra watching her as I had instructed. She was sitting lotus fashion on a cushioned cot tastefully attired in her collar. Her mons and pussylips were hairless and flushed. Cassandra was kneeling behind her doing her hair up off her neck again.