Realtor Revenge Pt 02

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.

***

Realtor Revenge

Chapter 2

Crooked Cops

There are certain types of people a single woman, such as I, should know. A good plumber to fix the occasional leak. A knowledgeable attorney to streamline the legal system. And a crooked cop to both protect her from people she might offend and to negotiate with people who didn't respond appropriately to her needs.

Deputy Longstreet had been my "go to" lawman for over a decade. In exchange for the occasional poke in the sack, he would gladly use his six-foot-four, two-hundred-fifty-pound body to convince unruly business associates to see things my way. It was one of those mutually beneficial arrangements I spoke of earlier, until a jealous husband, armed with a 9mm Sig, forced the county, and me, to find a replacement lawman.

It took a while. Trustworthy cops who would bend the law in my favor were hard to find. I didn't come across another suitable law enforcement officer until a few weeks before Mark Seiman came to town.

My new guy wasn't nearly as large and imposing as Longstreet, but he had several qualities that Longstreet lacked. He was younger, better looking and more intelligent than the deceased deputy. And, unlike his predecessor, when in bed with the new man, I didn't have to fake my orgasms.

We met by accident, literally. I had a minor fender bender with some yahoo from out of town and he was the responding police officer. The out-of-towner tried to blame me for the accident, but the Merryville policeman backed me up to the hilt. After it was all said and done, the asshole who hit me had three traffic citations and I had a dinner date with Officer Brian Flanagan... my new protector/enforcer.

I took it slow with Officer Flanagan. We did lunch a couple of times and one more dinner before I tried to recruit him.

"Would you mind helping me with a little problem?" I asked him. We were enjoying each other's company on my couch after a dinner date.

"Always glad to serve," he said while sliding his growing erection under my bra and into my cleavage.

"I think one of my competitors might be doing something illegal." I gave his tip a little kiss when it poked out from my valley of flesh.

"Do you want me to arrest her?" He withdrew almost to my navel before starting upwards again.

"No need for that, at least not yet. I just want you to keep an eye on her. See where she's going, who she's talking to." This time, when his tip reemerged above my flesh, I added a little tongue to the kiss.

"It's hard to tell what a person's doing just by watching," he said while releasing my bra clasp. "How about I do a little undercover work."

"What do you have in mind?" I let the bra fall off my shoulders, giving Flanagan unfettered access to the ladies.

"Standard stuff. I'll find a reason to pull her over, let her off with a warning and strike up a friendship." His hands cupped my boobs, pressing them into his now full-grown boner.

"You don't think she'll catch on?" I licked a drop of pre-cum off his tip as he considered my question.

"Not if I do it right. With a little bit of planning, I can arrange several 'accidental' encounters with this woman. If I'm sympathetic and helpful each time we meet, she might open up to me... voluntarily tell me what she's up to."

Wow

, I thought.

This Flanagan guy really knows what he's doing.

Prior to that night, I had never met a man who could simultaneously bone my boobs, caress my nipples and carry on an intelligent conversation. Not only was he exactly what I was looking for in a business associate, from the stirrings in my nether regions, I might have also discovered a new erogenous zone... between my tits.

"You would be willing to do that for me?" I asked, just before I captured his top two inches in my mouth.

"If she's breaking the law, it's my duty to investigate. Tell me her name and I'll get right on it."

"Janis Moorehead..."

I was about to give him more details, but before I could, he grabbed the back of my head and shoved the length of his cock down my throat.

I'd have to work on his communication skills but, if he actually delivered what he promised, swallowing a hot load of man juice was well worth what I would get in return.

It didn't take long for Flanagan to prove his worth. He made his initial contact with Janis a few days before my wrestling ring encounter with Mark Seiman. As he wormed his way into Janis's good graces (and possibly her pants), he was able to give me information I would never have received from simple surveillance. Not only who Janis and Mark were seeing, but some of the lurid details about what happened during their real estate negotiations.

At first, I found it hard to believe all the tales Flanagan told me. There was no way Seiman left Janis handcuffed to a bed in a clients' house. Or the two of them forced a seller to have sex with a werewolf as a sales condition. I chuckled at the thought of a fat broad nearly smothering Janis with her pussy while her brother pounded away at Janis's other end... but I certainly didn't think it was true. And when Flanagan told me Janis kept complaining because she didn't know if Seiman had properly fucked her, well that was the best story of all... true or not.

After my experience on the Grappling Gate wrestling mat, I was a believer. Flanagan wasn't making this shit up. More importantly, despite all the laws both Mark Seiman and Janis Moorehead had broken, Flanagan didn't turn all cop like on me and try to stop them. He just let it happen.

That's when I decided it was time to see how far Officer Flanagan was willing to go.

***

Merryville Playhouse -- Councilman Green

Even at its best, Merryville was never big enough to merit a full-time city council. The mayor and five council members received a very small salary for their duties, so all of them had either full-time jobs or were independently wealthy.

Casey Green had been on the council for ten years, assuming the slot vacated when his father died. Besides the council seat, Casey also inherited his dad's large portfolio of stocks, bonds and real estate. Rather than take an active role in running his estate, Casey wisely let paid professionals ensure he, and generations of Greens to come, would never need a real job.

Despite his fortunate financial situation, Casey still needed something to occupy his time. A man can only play so much golf, he didn't enjoy exploring the world and he never expressed any interest in helping people less fortunate than him. But he did enjoy the theatre. Which was extremely convenient since one of the pieces of real estate he inherited from his father was the Merryville Playhouse... a small but luxurious building which showed both local and traveling productions of hit Broadway plays.

Green couldn't remember the last time a Merryville Playhouse performance actually turned a profit, but that didn't bother him. The theatre gave him an air of respectability and he had plenty of excess cash to spend on his hobby.

Being the sole benefactor of the Playhouse afforded Green certain privileges. He had his own private box, he got to choose which plays were presented and, most importantly, he was the final interviewer for the female leads of local productions.

***

Sticki Tinagin was a junior at Merryville State College majoring in real estate with a minor in theatre. In my mind, it was an extremely intelligent combination of academic pursuits. A good bit of selling houses is acting like your client is getting a good deal when he's actually getting royally screwed.

Sticki had a lot going for her. She was smart, a hard worker and very personable. She also wasn't hindered by a false sense of morality... let's just say Sticki was willing to do whatever needed to be done to close the deal. My kind of girl. That's why I agreed to take her on as a summer intern.

But the girl did have one major flaw. Her looks. I'm not saying Sticki was ugly, just the opposite. She had the face and figure of a high school cheerleader, which was her problem. Even with makeup, the twenty-one-year-old young lady looked fifteen. Clients didn't think she was old enough to drive much less trust with a half million-dollar house sale.

While Sticki's unnatural youthful appearance would certainly hold her real estate career back for a decade or so, it played right into my plans for Mr. Casey Green.

The next show at the Merryville Playhouse was a local production of The Wizard of Oz. As always, Casey let the producer choose most of the cast, but he reserved the right to interview those vying for certain roles, with the power of veto if the interview didn't go well.

Sticki was a natural for the lead role of Dorothy, the Kansas farm girl who is magically transported to the world of Oz. With her long brown hair pulled back in pig tails, she was a doppelganger for a young Judy Garland, the original star of the show. And with her acting talents, Sticki easily floated to the top of the list and was soon scheduled for the obligatory interview with Casey Green.

***

Green's casting couch was in a small office on the third floor of the Playhouse. It was his private domain where he conducted theatre business and occasionally held after show parties. Not wanting to take any chances with my admittedly inadequate technical skills, I asked Officer Flanagan if he could help.

"Is this Green guy breaking the law?" Flanagan always wanted some type of legal reason to do what I asked.

"If forcing young women to exchange their bodies for roles in his theatrical productions isn't against the law, it certainly should be," I said.

Flanagan nodded and went to work. Not twelve hours later, he had concealed three wireless video cameras in Greens office, capturing every possible angle. The accompanying audio was also top notch.

While Flanagan was breaking and entering, I spent several hours getting Sticki ready for her interview. I walked her through different scenarios she might expect, and play acted each one with her until I was sure she would get what was needed.

"You don't have to actually fuck him," I told Sticki before dropping her off at the Playhouse a few minutes before the scheduled 9:00 pm rendezvous. "But I do need video of him removing your clothes, you saying no, and him putting his hands on your body. Once we've got what I want on tape, I'll call your cell phone and you can tell him to go to hell."

"How will I know it's you calling?" she asked.

"I've programed your phone with a unique ring tone that will only sound when my number calls. When you hear crickets chirping, do whatever you need to get your clothes on and get out of there."

"Suppose he won't let me leave?"

"Officer Flanagan and I will be monitoring you. Just yell for help and we'll be there in less than a minute."

Flanagan had previously scouted out the downstairs and, as expected, found it deserted at that hour on a non-show night. Once Sticki had gone upstairs, Flanagan and I went to a first-floor theatre lounge where we would watch the audition. I don't understand how it worked, but the video from the hidden cameras in Green's theatre apartment was accessible on our smart phones. And, just as impressive, Flanagan figured out how to project the video from his phone onto one of the large screen HD TV's in the lounge. We settled onto a comfortable couch and waited for the curtain to rise. All that was missing was the popcorn.

The first scene of our play was Green in his office while he waited for Sticki to arrive. He was a large man, a couple of inches over six feet and well over two hundred fifty pounds. While most of his bulk appeared to be fat, there was certainly sufficient muscle to overpower the small girl who was climbing the stairs to his office.

He sat behind a large desk which faced the door. The room also included a couch, two overstuffed chairs and a small bar. The walls were decorated with posters of previous productions plus the occasional picture of Green glad handing with the different actors and actresses who had graced the Merryville stage.

We heard the knock at exactly 9:00. Green got up from behind the desk, adjusted his tie and made his way to the door. He paused before grasping the handle, took a deep breath and then pulled the door open. If his smile when he first saw his prospective starlet was any indication, he was instantly smitten.

At my insistence, Sticki looked and dressed exactly like the sixteen-year-old Judy Garland who originally played the role... the only difference being the skirt Sticki wore was a foot shorter than the one worn by Ms. Garland in 1939.

"Excellent," he said, licking his lips as he eye-balled her from head to toe. "You're on time and in costume. Come on in and let's discuss your budding acting career."

Sticki gave him a shy smile but remained outside the door.

"What's the matter?" Green asked.

"I'm just a little nervous. I'm new to all of this."

"You've never auditioned for a part?"

"Never like this. All my other auditions were on stage. And there were lots of other people around."

"Well that may be how it's done in amateur theatre, but this is the real deal. If things go well tonight, I'll offer you the lead role in a professional production. Not many girls your age get that opportunity."

Sticki twirled a lock of hair around a finger as she considered her next move. It was a seemingly innocent gesture that made her appear even less worldly and more desirable. After a moment of hesitation, she slipped into the room but stopped just inside.

"Take a seat," Green said. "But before you do, close the door behind you. We don't want to be interrupted by the janitorial staff."

Sticki again hesitated, but eventually did as instructed.

"Would like a glass of wine?" Green offered. "Or perhaps something stronger."

"Just water please. I want to preserve my voice in case you ask me to sing."

Green ignored her request and brought her a glass of Chablis. "Don't worry about your voice, I'm sure you sing like an angel. Our goal tonight is to determine if you'll make a deal with the devil to ensure a successful acting career."

"I don't understand."

"It's Sticki, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Is that your real name?"

"It's kind of a nick name."

"And how old are you?"

"I'll be sixteen next month," Sticki lied.

"Oh my. So young but so talented.

"Well Miss Sticki Tinagin, let me explain how the theatre business works. There are over a hundred girls in Merryville who would do a bang-up job playing Dorothy. My task, as the sponsor of this establishment, is to find the girl who wants it the most.

"If you're chosen for one starring role, your odds of being selected again go up immensely. The Merryville Playhouse usually does four locally produced shows every year. And the travelling shows that play here are always looking to hire locals for bit parts. That's a lot of experience for a young girl just starting out in the business.

"But I can't do this for every prospective thespian that comes through that door. There is only room for one star on this stage and it is my job to choose the right girl. Are you interested Sticki? Do you want to be that star?"

"Yes sir."

"And are you willing to do what it takes to deserve that privilege?"

"Yes. I think so."

"Either you do, or you don't. In or out. Let me know now. Because if you don't want my help, there is a long line of other girls who would sell their baby sisters to be here with me tonight."

'That sounds a lot like what Mark said when he recruited me for this little project

,' I thought.

"What do I have to do?"

"What you do best. Act."

"You want me to do a scene from the Wizard?"

"No, any middle schooler can do that. I want to see you really act."

Green picked a stack of papers off his desk and handed them to Sticki.

"You and I are going to do this scene together. I'll give you a few minutes to read through it and then we'll begin. Don't worry about memorizing the lines verbatim. Just get a feeling for what's happening and improvise."

Sticki read through a few pages while Green fixed himself a drink.

The more Sticki read, the wider her eyes opened. "I can't do this."

"Sure, you can. It's just a part in a play. Once you put yourself into the character, you might even enjoy yourself. You keep reading while I set up the camera."

"You're going to film us?"

"Since we don't have an audience, I want you to play to the camera. Pretend we're on a Hollywood set... where you're certainly destined to go if you put your heart into the role."

"Unbelievable," I said to Flanagan as we watched them from the lounge. "All the effort you went through to get the cameras installed and the asshole is filming it himself."

"Which makes me think he has a complete library of his conquests hidden somewhere," Flanagan answered. "This just gets better and better."

"You ready?" Green asked Sticki once his camera was in place.

She gave her head a hesitant nod and glanced down at the script.

"Please Mr. Green. If you let me go, I promise not to tell anybody."

"Hyde," Green said. "Read the script. Your attacker is named Hyde."

"Sorry. Should I start over?"

"No. Just keep going but try not to screw up again."

"Please sir," Sticki continued. "My parents will be worried if I don't get home soon."

"If you don't do as I say, you'll never see your parents again."

And that was pretty much the end of their scripted dialog.

Green rushed across the room, grabbed her by the arms and spun her around so she was facing the camera. Once positioned properly, he reached around her from behind and ripped her blouse open. Buttons flew through the air revealing a frilly, extremely small bra. Green grabbed the now ruined blouse by the shoulders and, in one downward motion, tore it away from Sticki's body. Tossing the flimsy fabric aside, he made short work of the single latch bra and, with both garments on the floor, Sticki's small but nicely shaped breasts made their on-screen premier.

"No," she yelled. I couldn't tell if her protest was for affect or she really wanted him to stop.

Green's overly large hands briefly cupped each miniature boob and, after a cursory exploration, moved down to her waist. Sticki was a small girl. I doubt she weighed more than a hundred ten pounds. Even so, when Green placed his hands around her mid-section and easily hoisted her over his head, it was an impressive sight.

He held her there, suspended above his head for a second or two, and then lowered her down so that his mouth was level with her exposed breasts. Sticki squirmed in his hands and pleaded with him to stop, but she didn't attempt to kick him when she had the chance and, when his tongue came into contact with a tiny nipple, it was evident that her protests were just for show.

"I think you've got enough," Flanagan said. "Give her a call so she knows she can stop."

"Not quite yet. I'd like to see him get to third base before we call it off."

"Do you really think that's necessary?"

"Oh, come on. You want to see her naked as much as I do. If Sticki doesn't want to continue, she'll let us know."

"Fine," Flanagan said. "But here's the deal. Whatever Green does to her, I do to you. When you've had enough, we make the call."

I nodded in agreement and then glanced back at the TV. Green was sitting on the couch with Sticki laying prone on his lap. Her skirt was pulled up over her waist, her panties down by her knees and her ass reddened by Green's spankings.

Without warning, Flanagan put me in the same position; butt naked and leaning over his lap like a 1930s schoolgirl getting punished for disrespecting her teacher. For every smack Green gave Sticki, Flanagan hit me twice. My ass was burning like a fresh cattle brand. As much as I enjoyed seeing my young protegee getting humiliated by Green, the pain was getting too much to bear. I was overjoyed when Sticki finally cried out: