Realtor Revenge

Realtor Revenge is the sequel to Real Estate Games. For the full experience, I suggest you start with Part 1 of Real Estate Games. Or you can just read on and enjoy a quick escape from reality.

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Realtor Revenge

Chapter 5

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Tiffany's was a small diner on main street which had been in business since the 1950's. What appeared to be a retro motif was actually the result of three generations of owners who refused to put money into upgrades. The location was convenient, the food was adequate and the few tourists that passed through town considered it quaint, so it managed to stay in business.

Flanagan and I sat in a corner booth enjoying our coffee as we congratulated each other on our recent success and then moved on to my next target.

"Carson Taylor is the last councilman on the list," I told him.

"Isn't he the guy with the dairy farm that milks women instead of cows? This could get interesting."

"Unfortunately, the farm belongs to his ex-wife. I'm not sure how we link it to Carson Taylor and Janis Moorehead..."

"You two ready to order?" I didn't know how long the waitress had been standing there. Hopefully not long enough to hear our conversation.

"Ham and eggs, over easy," Flanagan said. "With a side of grits if you got them."

She nodded and then looked to me. "How about you Raven? The usual?"

"Yeah, that would be great," I said. "Thanks, Leaky."

Flanagan gave her back side a quick appraisal as she walked towards the kitchen with our order. "Why'd you call her Leaky?" he asked when she stepped out of sight. "Her name tag said 'Angel'."

I laughed. "Nobody's called her Angel since she got knocked up in high school."

"How did a pregnant teenager get nicknamed Leaky?"

"Her boobs. They leak."

"As in milk?"

"Yep."

"Still? After all these years? How many kids does she have?"

"Only three. Her youngest is in middle school."

"And she's still lactating?"

"Apparently so. Whenever she gets excited, her blouse gets two big wet spots."

"How the hell does that work?" Flanagan asked.

"I pump them twice a day," Leaky said as she topped off our coffees. "If you'd like some fresh warm milk in your coffee, I'd be glad to oblige."

Leaky began to unbutton her blouse.

"Uh, no, thanks," Flanagan stuttered. "I uh, I like mine black."

Leaky and I both laughed as the normally sedate policeman turned several shades of red.

"Let me know if you change your mind," Leaky said, not bothering to rebutton her blouse. "The offer's always open, especially for the newest member of the Merryville police force.

"And speaking of offers," Leaky said to me. "I may have something you want."

"From what I can see, you've got nothing I don't already have. And mine don't leak."

"How about a connection between councilman Taylor and your old friend Janis Moorehead?"

"Now you've got my attention. I'm all ears."

"Not here," Leaky said. "Is there someplace we can meet tonight after my shift is over? Someplace private?"

"I could stop by your place." I suggested.

"There's nothing private about three kids in a double wide," Leaky said. "How about we meet at your house?"

I was just about to reject that option out of hand when Flanagan opened his fat mouth and said...

"Great idea. We'll order pizza and I'll bring some liquid refreshment. Is 7:00 okay with everybody?"

"Seven works for me," Leaky immediately said. Then she paused and wrinkled up her nose. "Unless there's some reason you don't want me in your house."

"Of course not," I lied, not able to come up with an acceptable excuse. "Seven will be fine."

Why wouldn't I want a cop car parked in front of my house or the town bimbo knocking on my door. The neighbors surely won't notice. Right.

And while I'm being honest with myself, why am I letting Flanagan make decisions? He's supposed to be a hired hand, not a partner. This meeting should be with me and Leaky and nobody else.

I have got to get control of the situation.

***

Diner at Raven's

Flanagan drove an old pickup truck to my impromptu dinner party. It didn't fit in with the Mercedes, BMWs and Porches my neighbors drove, but was a marked improvement over his patrol car. He also left his cop suit at home, wearing jeans and a clean white shirt. And even though Leaky's tired Chevy would probably leave an oil stain on my driveway, I was sure none of my neighbors would recognize her without an apron and name tag.

'Hopefully we'll eat some pizza, hear what Leaky has to say, and then call it a night',

I thought.

But that's not exactly what happened.

We had just uncorked the first bottle of wine when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the pizza delivery guy, I opened the door to find my 'across the street' neighbor standing on my front porch.

"Is that Leaky's car parked in your driveway?" she asked.

"You know Leaky?" I asked the forty-year-old trophy wife of a recently retired executive.

Before she could answer, Leaky was standing behind me saying, "Evelin, I didn't know you lived in the neighborhood. Why don't you come in for a glass of wine?"

"Just one," Evelin said as she pushed past me. "And then I really need to get George his dinner."

I looked to Flanagan for help, thinking he might know how to get rid of uninvited houseguests, but he was too busy pouring Evelin's wine to notice me.

Evelin thanked him for the wine and then asked, "Are you Raven's new beau?"

"Goodness no," Leaky answered for him. "He's the newest member of the Merryville police department. He and Raven are investigating what happened at last week's Fantasy Friday event at the Dairy."

"Oh my, that was certainly unfortunate. I mean what happened to that poor realtor... I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but Laura really needs to keep an eye on that boy."

"What boy? What realtor? Were you there?" I asked.

"Of course I was. Both Leaky and I saw the entire thing. Well maybe not the entire thing, since we were kind of tied up and busy at the time." Evelin and Leaky exchanged a conspiratory wink before she continued. "But between the two of us, we can probably piece together what happened. Come to think of it, I think Mary Kate was also there."

"She was," Leaky said.

"Well she just lives down the street. I'll give her a call and see if she can join us."

"I'd hate to bother her..." I started to say.

"Trust me, Mary Kate has never in her life turned down a party invitation. Besides, another eyewitness can only help your investigation. Isn't that so Officer Flanagan?"

"Absolutely," my out-of-control hired hand said. "The more the merrier."

"But we only have two bottles of wine," I complained.

"Mary Kate has a well-stocked wine cellar. I'm sure she can spare a half dozen bottles or so."

The next time the doorbell rang, I was sure it would be the pizza delivery dude. But no, this time it was Evelin's seventy-year-old mother wondering where her daughter had run off to.

"Your asshole husband wants his dinner," the wrinkled old woman said to her daughter. "I'm sure not going to fix it for him so you better get your butt home and feed him."

"Not now mom," Evelin said. "Were helping the police solve a crime. Why don't your order him some Chinese?"

"I've got a better idea. I'll stay here and drink wine and we'll let the bastard starve."

Which seemed okay with Evelin, so Flanagan poured Grandma a glass and the party continued.

I let Flanagan answer the door the next time the bell rang, which was a good thing, because Mary Kate needed someone strong to carry a full case of imported wine into the kitchen.

Now that we had three witnesses to what was supposedly a crime that would somehow let us incriminate Carson Taylor and blame it on Janis Moorehead, I was more than ready to hear what the women had to say. But the three participants in whatever happened at the Dairy farm last Friday were all talking at the same time and not a one of them were making any sense.

All I got from their constant barrage of wine slurred words were snippets of information...

"... shot gun..."

"... milk..."

"... charity..."

"...pumps..."

"...misunderstanding..."

I was about to give up and kick the women out when Flanagan interceded.

"Ladies, I know you all have a lot to tell us, but to get to the bottom of what happened last Friday, I think we would be best served by a reenactment."

Despite my pleas of the last half hour for the women to take turns and not all talk at once, the commanding voice of a man was all it took for them to immediately shut up and pay attention... which really pissed me off.

"Leaky, you go first," Flanagan said. "Pretend Raven's living room is where the Fantasy Friday event took place. You said everybody had some sort of station?"

"That's right," she said. "We all had assigned milking stations."

"Good. And how many total stations were in the room?"

"There were six stations but only five were occupied until..."

"Let's don't get ahead of ourselves. Before we continue, I want everybody to help Leaky position the available furniture to make six stations."

Unbelievably, the three bickering women helped each other as they lined up bar stools, an ottoman and a coffee table down the center of my living room. When they were done, you could easily imagine six small cubicles, each barely big enough for a woman on her hands and knees.

"Excellent work," Flanagan said. "Now, assuming the door to the room at the ... what did you call it?"

"The dungeon," one of the women answered.

"Assuming Raven's front door is the door to the dungeon, I want each of you to stand by the station you occupied last Friday."

Like obedient soldiers, each woman took her respective place.

"Evelin, your turn. Besides you three, who else are we missing? Who were at the other stations?"

"Well, Barbara was at the end and Rebecca was between Leaky and me, but both of them live on the other side of town."

"Not a problem. We don't need them here, I just wanted to get a feel for who was where. We'll use these pillows to represent Barbara and Rebecca. Now besides them, who else was in the room?"

"Laura's mom was there at first, but then she left to get Janis..."

"Forget about Janis for the moment. Tell me where Laura's mom was."

"Hard to tell. She usually stayed behind us. Out of sight."

"But she was definitely in the room?"

"Oh yeah. We could hear her give instructions to her grandson."

"Ma'am," Flanagan said to Evelin's mom. "In the interest of authenticity, would you mind standing behind the ladies?"

"Would it be okay if I sat," she said. "I don't stand so well after my second glass of wine."

"Sitting would be most acceptable," Flanagan said and moved a dining room chair behind the faux milking stations."

"And what was Laura's mom holding?" Flanagan asked.

"A shotgun, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't loaded."

"Do you know for sure it wasn't loaded? Did you check it?"

"No, but why would it be?" Evelin asked. "We were all there on our own accord."

"We'll get to that in a minute, but first let's set the scene. You mentioned Laura's son was also in the room. What's his name?"

"Jonathan."

"Mary Kate, tell me what Jonathan was doing prior to his grandmother leaving."

"He was helping us get ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For milking... and the other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

"The straps and gags and the toys."

"By straps, I'm assuming you mean arm and leg restraints."

"And maybe a few more for the more adventuresome."

"Fair enough. And I can imagine the gags but tell me about the toys."

"Nothing exotic. Just your run of the mill dildos and vibrators. The things most women keep beside their beds."

"I'll have to trust you on that but explain why Jonathan helped with the toys. Couldn't you use them without his help?"

"Not when we were tied up. And certainly not until we were ready."

"Ready?"

"You know. Properly lubricated."

"So, he applied lubrication to the toys?"

"Either that or helped us create our own. You've got to remember why we were there. Obviously to donate milk, but on Fantasy Friday, we also expected something in return. Jonathan is a young man, barely a year out of high school. His mother doesn't know it but having a young man's physical attention is a large part of our fantasy."

The doorbell rang again and, since Flanagan was doing his investigation thing, I went to the door. Piss poor timing because Mary Kate was just getting to the good part.

This time it was the pizza boy. Most likely a student at the local community college. Clean cut. Well built. And completely unable to pry his eyes off my boobs.

"Come with me young man. I have some people you need to meet."

He obeyed as if I was Jedi Knight controlling the mind of an inferior species.

"Meet Jonathan," I said to the gathered crowd as we walked into my crowded living room.

"My name's Scott," he said.

"Not tonight son," Flanagan said. "For the next few hours, you'll do whatever we say and answer to Jonathan."

"But I've got two more deliveries to make."

"Trust me Jonathan, in twenty years you won't remember a thing about your time at the pizza parlor, but you'll never forget what's going to happen tonight."

During the next thirty minutes we consumed everything edible in Scott/Jonathan's car and drank most of Mary Kate's wine. While we feasted, Officer Flanagan called the pizza parlor and explained that their employee would be detained for the rest of the evening as a witness to a crime, and my female guests convinced Scott/Jonathan that he was more comfortable without his shirt and pants.

"Places everyone," Flanagan commanded after we ate.

Each lady quickly resumed her original station, Grandma sat in her chair armed with a broomstick to represent a shotgun, and the stand-in Jonathan stood next to grandma... looking confused but ready to do whatever was asked of him.

"Okay Mary Kate. Let's take it from where we left off before the dinner break. You were saying Jonathan was helping the ladies get ready. Show me what happened."

"You mean right here?"

"Yes. Right here, right now. To properly understand the complaint, I have to understand exactly what happened. Don't leave out a single detail. Reality is the key."

"Well, the first thing we did was get comfortable in our milking stations."

"What were you wearing?" Flanagan asked.

"Nothing, of course."

"Did you take your own clothes off or did Jonathan help you?"

"A little bit of both. We took off our outer layers but, since it was a kidnap and rape fantasy, Jonathan removed our bra and panties just before he restrained us."

"Great detail. Now show me. Reenact what happened last Friday morning."

Evelin and Mary Kate were obviously hesitant to strip in front of us, but when Leaky didn't hesitate, the others eventually followed suit.

"Not you grandma," Flanagan said. "You leave your clothes on."

The old woman grunted something about the 'young'uns having all the fun', rebuttoned her blouse and returned to her chair.

With their clothing neatly folded on my couch, the three women again took their places in the make-believe Dairy Farm dungeon.

"What's next?" Flanagan asked.

"This is where Jonathan strips off our remaining clothes and tethers us to the milking station," Mary Kate said.

"Evelin, I'm assuming our stand-in Jonathan is new to this, so would you be kind enough to show him the ropes, so to speak. You can use Leaky as your assistant."

Evelin made a big deal about removing Leaky's bra and panties, which Leaky seemed to enjoy, and then Evelin pushed Leaky down onto her hands and knees between two bar stools laying on their sides. Using rope from my garage, Evelin secured Leaky's wrists and ankles to the bar stools.

I obviously didn't have any ball gags in my house, so Evelin improvised by lacing one of my silk scarfs between Leaky's lips and tying it off behind her head. It didn't keep her from talking, but Flanagan didn't want the ladies completely mute anyway. They needed to be able to tell us what they saw last Friday which would have been impossible with a real gag.

"What's next?" Flanagan asked. "Sex toys?"

"No. The toys go in later," Evelin said. "This is where they hook up the breast pumps."

"I'm assuming Raven doesn't have any pumps in her pantry, so we'll have to improvise. Any suggestions?"

"Sorry, I left my pump at home," Leaky said. "But before we continue, you'd better put something underneath me to protect the carpet."

Sure enough, just tying her up made Leaky live up to her name, evidenced by wet spots on the floor under each boob. Not knowing how far Flanagan planned to take his theatrical production, I fetched six large bowls from the kitchen, one for each lactating breast in the room. As I squatted down to place bowls under Leaky's leaking boobs Flanagan put his hands on my shoulders and said...

"While you're down there, how about playing breast pump for a while."

'

Why not

,' I thought. I've already got a naked woman tied to my furniture, me pulling on her tits won't make it any weirder. Besides, if I have control of Leaky's boobs, maybe she won't ruin the carpet.

I sat down cross legged in front of Leaky, ready to play milk maid.

"Fantastic, now all we need are some sex toys and we can start," Flanagan said.

"I've got some bananas and cucumbers in the kitchen," I suggested.

"Or we could use these," Mary Kate said as she emerged from my bedroom holding three of my favorite battery powered nighttime companions. "And since I found them, I call dibs on the double pronged dildo."

With all the props in place, I started kneading Leaky's breasts while Evelin taught the fake Jonathan how to prepare a woman for a sex toy. From the look on Leaky's face as I massaged her milk bottles, she didn't need much preparation. But that didn't keep Evelin from using Leaky's pussy to give Scott/Jonathan an up close and personal lesson in female anatomy followed by a step by step tutorial on the finer points of digital and oral stimulation thereof. When they finally shoved an eight-inch purple plastic penis up Leaky's loose love levee, she responded with torrents of milk and a loud, sustained "mooooo".

Properly trained and motivated, the young pizza delivery boy quickly restrained the other two Dairy Farm veterans to their milking stations. Once all three were in position, Flanagan and I pulled on Evelin's and Mary Kate's udders while Jonathan toyed with his newly discovered playthings.

Only after all pussies were plugged and all nipples were lactating did Flanagan move on.

"Okay ladies, the scene is set. There were five women enjoying a Fantasy Friday event. Jonathan was behind you and Grandma was supervising Jonathan. Tell me what happened next."

"I saw somebody looking in the window," Mary Kate said.

"Did you recognize her?"

"No, not at the time, but I could tell she was a blonde."

"And then what happened?"

"Grandma saw her too and she went out to investigate."

Flanagan motioned for me to walk over to a window, which I did.

"Raven's just been promoted from breast pump to "blonde in the window". What happened next?"

"The blonde head disappeared and a few minutes later grandma led two people into the dungeon at gunpoint."

"Could you see them?"

"Not at first they were behind us. But we could hear them."

Getting into the role, I stepped behind the ladies so they couldn't see me.

"What did they say?" Flanagan asked.

"Grandma told the blonde woman to strip."

"And did she?"

"No. She said there had been a mistake and she was a realtor. But grandma didn't care and told her to strip anyway and then assume the position."

"When grandma said, 'assume the position', did she mean get on the floor like the rest of you so Jonathan could hook up the breast pumps?"