Realtor Revenge

Welcome to Realtor Revenge.

This is the second book in my "Realtor" series. If you want the full effect, consider reading Realtor Games first. It sets the stage for everything that happens in this book.

If you've already read Realtor Games, thanks for sticking with me. This first chapter of Revenge revisits the events of Realtor Games part 8, where Janis Moorehead and C. Raven Hardwood wrestle for the privilege of selling the Cartwright twins' house.

Enjoy.

***

Realtor Revenge

Chapter 1

C. Raven Hardwood

I have a long history of using my feminine charms to get what I want. The female body, especially one as desirable as mine, should not be wasted on frivolous notions such as love or passion. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying a woman shouldn't enjoy herself. I appreciate a rousing orgasm as much as the next gal. But, when half of the world's population would gladly crawl across molten lava, just for the privilege of unbuttoning my blouse, why would I bare my breasts for free? There is an unending supply of men who are not only willing and able to satisfy my sexual urges but also eager to do my bidding in payment for satisfying theirs.

Truthfully, my ability to control the minds and actions of men brings me much more pleasure than the short lived high of a sexual peak. When most women masturbate, they conjure up the mental image of a man pleasuring each and every one of her erogenous zones... taking control of her body... guiding her to ecstasy. When I twiddle my twat, I dream of having complete control over a man.

I am not a prostitute. I have never traded sex for money... at least not directly. But I have no moral issue with enjoying another person's body when, in doing so, it also furthers my personal or business interests. The key to these exchanges is convincing my temporary business partner that he is getting a better deal than me.

A quick example. Screwing the graduate assistant who graded my college chemistry final was a hundred times easier than going to class. But in his mind, the two minutes he spent adjusting my F to a B was an extremely small price to pay for the privilege of exploring my naked body. He got a momentary sexual release out of the exchange; I got a college degree. He got a ten second ejaculation; I got a life-long career. He'll remember my name for as long as he lives; I've already forgotten his.

That's how it's been my entire adult life. I have never lost. It doesn't matter if I am up against a man or a woman. I always win. My opponent may think they came out ahead but, when it's all said and done, I always end up on top. Or that's how it was until the incident on Grappling Gate.

***

Grappling Gate with Raven

I am a real estate agent. The most successful agent in Merryville. I don't plan to spend the rest of my life selling other people's houses, but it pays the bills and keeps me in touch with the people I eventually plan to replace.

On the date in question, I was showing a client the house at 3366 Grappling Gate. The owners insisted on being there, which I usually don't recommend, but in this case, it should have been an advantage. The sellers were identical twin sisters who made their living as professional wrestlers. The prospective buyer was an ex-NFL star. As soon as the football player met the wrestlers, I knew I had a sale.

While I wouldn't call them fat, the owners certainly qualified for the "big girl" category. Thighs that could squeeze an opponent unconscious, butts that completely covered a bar stool and boobs that would swallow even the largest cock placed in their cleavage. The latter was what my oversized football playing client had on his mind. How did I know? He told me, not five minutes after we walked into their house.

"I'll pay full price for this house if they let me titty-fuck them both."

When I mentioned his offer to the twins, they countered with...

"...five thousand over full price for a titty-fuck followed by a blow job."

The client was just about to agree when Janis Moorehead, my life-long nemesis, strolled through the door with her own client in tow... who had to be the most desirable man I have ever met. And I'm not just talking about his rugged movie star looks, his casual but high-class wardrobe or his well-toned body. It was his presence that attracted me more than the visual. As soon as the stud walked into the room, he owned it. The lady wrestlers, the pro footballer and even I stopped what we were doing and immediately bought into what he decided we should do.

I won't go into detail about his ridiculous game, except to say that everybody in the room spent time on the wrestling mat and, when it was over, I was the only loser. Janis got the sale, my client got to fuck the twins, the wrestlers sold their house and, after I got my head beat against the canvas covered floor by my worst enemy, I had to spend another half hour in the ring with Janis' client.

His name was Mark Seiman. Besides his other attributes as mentioned above, he also had a "Guinness Book of World Records" sized cock. I swear if you Googled "biggest human pecker on earth" you'd see a picture of the lethal weapon hanging between Mark's legs. And that's how he used it on me. As a weapon.

My punishment for letting Janis beat me up was spending thirty minutes alone with Mark. Yes, the man was good looking, strong, intelligent and a natural born leader. But he was also a man. Which meant I should have been able to manipulate him. Losing a wrestling match to Janis was a surprise, but I knew I'd eventually get even and then some. Especially since she made the fatal mistake of leaving me alone with her client.

I'll pick up the action at the point where the others left the wrestling room.

Because of the previous activities, I was already nearly naked. As soon as the door closed, Mark ripped the remaining clothes off my body, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the middle of the wrestling ring where he said...

"We don't have much time. I'm going to make you an extremely wealthy woman, but only if you do exactly what I tell you."

"What the..." was all I got out of my mouth before he pulled me down into the doggy position and, without any warning, pushed three inches of cock into my totally unprepared pussy.

"Eeeoow," I screamed.

He pulled his dick out, squeezed my boobs and then shoved it in again.

"Scream again," he commanded... which I would have done naturally without his direction.

"Starting now, I will be your primary client," he whispered into my ear. "You will only sell houses to me and your other clients will only buy my houses. Scream if you understand." I did, loudly, as another two inches of man meat invaded my pink tunnel.

"Miss Moorehead must not know that you and I are working together. She must think that you hate me for everything I will do to you today and in the future. When our little session today is over, there should be no doubt in Janis Moorehead's mind that you utterly despise me. If you agree, tell me how much I'm hurting you."

To accentuate his words, he reached around me and put a bear-trap grip on my breasts.

"Shit. That hurts asshole. Stop." I screamed at the top of my lungs.

With his dick still imbedded in my pussy, he released my boobs and smacked my ass with an open palm which made me scream even louder.

"Good," he said. "You catch on quick." He spanked me again, harder than the first time. Which elicited yet another blood curdling retort.

"Now, while I explain how you're going to become an extremely powerful and wealthy woman, I want you to convince everybody in this house that you are not enjoying yourself. But pay attention to what I say. Don't make me repeat myself."

I spent the next half hour listening to the most evil yet ingenious scheme I would ever hope to hear. While Mark explained how the two of us would take over the entire town of Merryville, he rhythmically fucked my increasingly aroused pussy like a jackhammer breaking concrete.

Smack! His hand slapped hard against my ass as he identified the companies we would control.

"Please, stop," I yelled for effect as he pulled down on my nipples.

Whack! He rolled me onto my back, slapped my thighs and thrust his weapon even further up my now sopping wet sex hole.

"Fuck. That hurts," I lied at the top of my lungs.

He told me about the different foreign investors he had lined up and then backhanded my boobs, making them shake like jello in an earthquake.

"You asshole," I screamed, as I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying desperately to draw him deeper into me.

We continued our charade. He explained each step in his plan while I falsely protested the best fucking a girl could ever dream of. When he was calmly detailing the offshore bank accounts we would use, an orgasm of enormous intensity took me completely by surprise.

I say I was surprised because I never come unannounced. All of my previous sexual peaks were carefully choreographed to coincide with my objective. If I wanted a man to think he was God's gift in the sack, I came before him. If I wanted to give him a sexual experience he would remember in the afterlife, I came with him. And If I wanted to make him feel inadequate, I didn't come at all. But in each case, in every single bedroom battle throughout my long history of seduction, I knew, going into the event, when I would come... or pretend to come as was usually the case.

My point is, from the minute Mark and I stepped into that wrestling ring -- hell, from the moment Mark stepped into my life -- he was in control. Our entire conversation, if you could call it that, was a one-sided monologue of him telling me exactly what I would do for him. He didn't ask my opinion of his plan, he didn't ask if I was willing to leave my other clients, he didn't even ask if I wanted him to fuck me. He just assumed that my continued screams meant yes... to everything.

He was right. I did want to be a powerful wealthy woman. I agreed that his plan would get me there. And I wanted him to fuck me, over and over again. So, while the orgasm came as a complete surprise what happened next was even more upsetting.

Mark's rock hard, oversized erection had spent twice as long in my tightly stretched, well lubricated pussy than any other erection before it. By all rights, he should have come before me.

But he didn't.

He certainly should have come when my back arching, toe pointing, nipple hardening orgasm caused my legs to grab hold of his waist like a vise and my pussy to contract around his cock like a boa constrictor squeezing its next meal.

But he didn't.

And even if, by some Zen like power of body control, he was able to keep his ejaculate walled up inside his balls while I yelled "I'm coming" so loud that the folks in City Hall heard me, there was no way a mortal man would not continue fucking me until he blew a quart of little tiny swimmers directly into my waiting womb.

But he didn't.

That's why I suspected Mark might either be an alien or perhaps a resurrected mythical fertility god. Because once he finished explaining his devious plan to take over my hometown, he didn't continue plowing my fertile field until he came. He also didn't turn me over and stick it in my ass, and he didn't prop me up on my knees and insist I suck the sperm out of him.

Instead, when he was done with the business part of our conversation, he pulled his baseball bat sized dick out of my still quivering pussy, stuffed it back into his pants, and walked out of the room. No 'thank you', 'I'll call you', or 'I'm sorry'. He turned his back to my perfect body and left my naked ass sitting alone in the middle of the Cartwright twins' wrestling mat.

That shit doesn't happen to C. Raven Hardwood. I am always in control. I walk out on people. Nobody walks out on me. Mark Seiman and Janis Moorehead may have won the day, but the battle was far from over.

***

Raven goes for a run

I woke early the next day, still sore from the physical abuse dealt by both Janis and her client on the wrestling mat. I considered skipping my morning run but, knowing it would do wonders for both my physical and mental health, I slipped on running shorts, sports bra and sneakers and set off for a three-mile jog through the neighborhood.

Some people actually enjoy getting up at the butt crack of dawn and sweating for an hour before going to work. I was not one of those people. I had to exercise to keep my most important asset, my body, in prime shape. I knew for a fact that Janis Moorehead never exercised. She didn't have to. By some completely unfair quirk of heredity, she could eat and drink as much of whatever she wanted and not gain weight. Sure, she had a good-sized ass and larger than normal boobs, but the rest of her was nearly devoid of fat no matter how many beers and tacos she consumed. I, on the other hand, ate like a damn sparrow and even then, had to pound the pavement every morning to keep thin. Which was just one more reason why I hated Janis.

I was only a quarter mile into my run... I'd just turned off my street and was heading towards the entrance of a public park when Mark Seiman pulled up next to me in a nondescript blue Honda.

"Get in," he commanded through an open window.

Ignoring my instincts which screamed, 'No. Do not get in a car with a man who raped you less than twenty-four hours ago,' I willingly hopped into the front passenger seat.

"Lay down," he said.

"What?"

"It could be extremely dangerous, both physically and financially, if certain people see us together. I want you to lay down on the seat so anybody driving by will think I'm alone."

With some effort and a lot of bending, I was able to hide my body under the level of the dash and still keep my head out of Mark's crotch... but not by much. Once I was situated, Mark pulled away from the curb and drove slowly while we talked.

"How well do you know the city council?" he asked while stroking my exposed shoulder.

"We're acquainted, but I wouldn't call them friends."

"Do you owe them anything?" His index finger found its way under the strap of my sports bra where he drew little circles on my skin.

"Like money?"

"I was thinking more about political favors. Have they done anything to help your business?"

While I considered my answer, his fingers explored further into my bra, eventually finding a nipple to play with.

"There's been a few exchanges of services between me and a couple of council members over the years, but nothing that commands my loyalty."

"Good. Because when we're done, they're going to owe us big time." He accentuated the point by giving my now erect nipple a gentle pinch.

"They'll owe us? For what?"

"That's what I want you to arrange. Every person has a weak point, an Achilles heel just waiting to be pricked. Your job is to find them." Perhaps like he found my opposing nipple.

"And then what?"

"They'll give us complete control of Merryville."

"I find that hard to believe."

He squeezed my breast with such force I cried out.

"Did that hurt?"

"Yes," I said. "And it was uncalled for. Can't we have a conversation without you molesting me?"

He gave my breast another squeeze. More forceful than before.

"Do you know why you're in this car Miss C. Raven Hardwood? Do you understand why I plan to dump Janis Moorehead and replace her with a more suitable partner?"

"Because she's a wimp?"

"I wouldn't necessarily phrase it that way, but you're close. Miss Moorehead has a conscience. She wants to help people. Which is an admirable trait for a Nun or social worker, but a curse in my line of work. The person I need at my side doesn't care what laws they break or who they hurt. My new partner will do whatever I ask without questioning my motives.

"What I have planned will not be easy. Before this is over, getting your tits squeezed will be the least of your worries. Great rewards require great sacrifice. That's what I expect from you. Obedience in exchange for a huge payday. So, decide right now. In or out? Because once you're in, the only way out is through the morgue."

Mark stopped the car and finally released his death grip on my boob.

"Do I have to tell you now?" I asked. "It's a big step. I'd like a day or two to think about it."

"I'll give you twenty-four hours." He surveyed the area around the car and, when satisfied nobody was looking, he reached over my scrunched-up body and opened my door.

I stepped out of the car to find he'd dropped me just a block from where he picked me up. I continued my run, knowing I had a lot to think about.

I knew exactly what my answer would be. Yes. Of course, I wanted to make a shit load of money and become the Queen of Merryville. But, in Mark's eyes, I would never be anything more than the local girl he used for his grandiose schemes and a warm, wet, sheath for his equally grand sex sword. It was a forgone conclusion that, once he got rid of the city council, he would no longer need me for my professional contacts. And as his lover... I saw how Janis looked at him and the way he protected her. My career as his business partner and bedroom toy would be short lived unless I took proper precautions.

By the time I finished my run, I had the outline of a plan.

Step 1: Get control of the City Council

Step 2: Use the City Council to get rid of Janis Moorehead

Step 3: Once his business deal was complete, get rid of Mark Seiman

Step 4: Using Marks' money and the City Council's influence, Rule Merryville

***

Deal with the Devil

My original plan was to convince the city council that Janice was a threat to their livelihood and have her banished from the city. Not that banishing was a real thing anymore... mid-evil kings banished witches from their realms and wild west sheriffs banished outlaws from their towns. But present-day mayors and law enforcement didn't have that power. So, I was thinking more along the lines of getting Janis fired and ostracized, forcing her to move to a different state.

Because of a shared experience sixteen years ago, Mayor Stuffit would usually look favorably on any request I made of him. But when I walked into his office and he asked... "Are you and Janis Moorehead still on unfriendly terms?" ... I realized I didn't need to call in any favors. He was about to ask me for one.

"I try to keep our interactions civil," I answered. "It's difficult, considering her unprofessional behavior."

"That's a pity. Because she and her newest client have not only offended me and the entire council, but I'm almost positive that they are up to no good."

"Are you referring to Mark Seiman?" I asked.

"How do you know that name?"

"There is very little I don't know about the Merryville real estate market."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Quite a bit, if the price is right."

"What must I do for this information?"

"Remove Janis Moorehead from my life... permanently."

"How permanent?" he asked.

"Give me a few days to confirm some facts before we have that discussion."

"You realize that anything we do will require the full support of the council."

"If I find what I suspect, they'll all be onboard with whatever plan you and I present."

***

Thanks for stopping by. I thrive on your comments. Tell me what you think of this first chapter of Realtor Revenge by leaving a public or private comment.

And please don't forget to rate the story.

Aaroneous