The Little Bitch

"Great," I thought to myself as the flakes started hitting the windshield of my beat-up old Toyota truck, "it's fucking snowing."

Not that I didn't expect it. All the weather forecasts for the Denver area said we were in for one hell of a blizzard. But in my optimism (or foolishness) I really thought I could get up and down this damn mountain before it started.

I had to deliver these divorce papers to Alexis Fountain. Now. It couldn't wait until Monday, or whenever it stopped snowing. Nope. The boss said now.

Boss...what a fucking joke that was. The arrogant little prick ran his legal paper service like a dictator, paid shit to his people and tried to screw you (literally, if you were a woman) at every turn. I'd twist the stupid bastard's head off if I didn't need the job so badly.

I'd come out of a disastrous divorce about three years ago with nothing but a bad attitude and a drinking problem. I lost my kids, house, cars and self-respect. To make things worse, her father had fired me from his international security service. It had been a tough but rewarding job, arranging security for big shots all over the world for 300 grand a year.

But the job took it's toll and one of them was my family. I traveled so much that my kids didn't know me and my wife became more and more distant. When I was home for any period of time, all we did was fight. Finally, one beautiful June day I came home from Dubai to find all the locks changed and divorce papers on the door along with a restraining order and an order giving temporary full custody of my children to my soon-to-be ex-wife.

She had cleaned out the bank accounts and taken the kids to Georgia to stay with her grandparents. My head was reeling trying to take all this in when my fancy cell phone rang.

It was my secretary. I was fired. No reason, no notice, no severance, just sayonara mother fucker.

Suddenly a strong, frigid wind hit my truck, jolting me back to reality. The snow was falling a little faster and the wind was picking up. I knew my bald-ass tires were for shit on snow or ice, but I had some chains in here somewhere. I was just hoping to get off this goddamn mountain before I needed them.

I wiped the windshield with my hand and peered out into the snowy landscape, trying to find the address on my notepad. Sometime in the next few minutes Alexis Fountain was going to find out what I felt like as I stood on the steps of what used to be my house trying to make sense of divorce papers that accused me of everything from adultery to leaving the toilet seat up. Not that I felt sorry for her. Hers had been a very privileged life. Born to wealth, thrown out of all the best schools, a jetsetter with supermodel looks and body. One of those spoiled celebutards that always end up on the front page of the celebrity rags. She'd married one of her fellow jet-setters 5 months ago against the wishes of her family. But what 19-year old listens to her family? Unfortunately for her they managed to cut off her funds and when the money ran out, so did hubby, leaving her deeply in debt and relentlessly pursued by the paparazzi. Then about a week ago, she disappeared, went underground. Nobody could find her and speculation ran wild: she killed herself, she moved to Alaska, had a sex-change operation, became a nun—all sorts of bizarre shit.

But my buddy Marty in the Forest Service who owed me a favor spotted her up here just two days ago. I'd saved his ass more than once when we served together as Navy SEALs. When we got out of the service, I introduced him to his future wife who I was banging at the time. Anyway, he called me because he'd heard nobody could find Alexis to serve these papers. Turns out her friend's uncle has a hunting cabin up here and Marty had seen her there a couple of times. I told my boss I knew where she was and he was ecstatic. It would be a real feather in his stupid little cap if his service were the one that served her. He nearly shit when I told him he would have to pay me three times my normal fee for this one—turned me down flat til I told him I'd go to his competitor. Then you should have heard the son of a bitch whine, like a little girl. "We're family" and "we all need to work together" and crap like that.

"Yeah, I saw how 'family' we are when you docked me last week for having to stop to fix a flat," I said, "You want me to serve her it's gonna cost you a grand." Finally he agreed, and after I made him put it in writing, he demanded that I go right away.

Which is how I found myself in a building snowstorm on the side of a mountain, trying to find an address when I can barely see the road. Complicating matters further was the fact that there was only about an hour of daylight left and I had a sinking feeling that wasn't going to be enough. As I slowly climbed, the road narrowed to barely wide enough to allow two cars to pass and visibility was getting worse. If it weren't for the telephone poles on my right I wouldn't have known where the edge of the road was at all.

Another half hour passed with my white knuckles on the wheel, desperately trying to find this damn cabin. I whipped out my cell phone to dial Marty and ask him where the hell I was, but I had no service. It's like those damn things know when you really need them and that's when they fuck you—kinda like women. "Helloooooo...bitter, party of one," I chuckled to myself.

Outside the wind was really blowing as the storm picked up. It wasn't snowing all that hard yet but what was coming down was horizontal—not a good sign. I was seriously thinking about turning around when I spotted a driveway on my left. I slid to a stop, squinting through the window to find an address. Nothing. I got out of my old beater to have a closer look. Jesus! It was fucking freezing out there. In the back of my mind I took note that I was not prepared for this kind of weather, having only brought a relatively light jacket and sweater with me. I walked over to the driveway, huddling against the wind and snowflakes that burned my face. Shit! No markings anywhere. As I turned to go back to my truck, I spotted something sticking out of the snow and walked over for a closer look. It was a buried address marker. Digging it out, I saw that it was indeed the number I sought. Relief washed over me as I rushed to get back into my truck. I might just survive this after all.

I turned my junker into the driveway, which immediately began to climb until the pavement ended, about 100 feet in. It was darker here, but the snow wasn't as bad because the trees broke the wind. A quarter mile or so up the drive, I could just make out the outline of a small cabin on the edge of a ridgeline. "Wow," I thought to myself, "I'll bet the view's great from here in clear weather." To the right, under a rickety little carport sat a brand new robin's egg blue Mercedes SUV with California plates. I knew then that I had found Alexis. I put on my jacket and reached behind the seat for a police cap I keep for just such occasions. Stuffing the papers in my coat I got out of the truck and walked to the door. Looking through the glass into the dimly lit cabin, I could see a figure on the floor in front of a fireplace. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light I realized it was a woman—a naked woman on her back.

At first I thought she was sleeping, but then she arched her back and her hips came off the floor and I could just see that her hand was buried between her legs. The firelight danced off her glistening skin as her other hand slid slowly up her body to her perfect breasts, roughly groping her erect nipples. Faster and faster her hand plunged into her pussy as she thrust her hips up to meet it. Her other hand roughly squeezed and tore at her nipples, much harder than I would have thought was bearable, much less pleasurable. Looking down at my own pants, I saw that my dick had grown uncomfortably large, and I had to adjust it to let the pressure off. Glancing back at the woman, I saw that she was quickly approaching orgasm. Her head began thrashing side to side as her passion rose. Suddenly, she froze with her face fixed unseeing on the ceiling and her mouth working uncontrollably open and closed. Then she let out a scream that I could hear even over the howling storm. As she came down from her orgasm, her head turned toward the door and I could see that it was indeed Alexis Fountain. Slowly her eyes opened as she lay there with a blissful smile on her face.

Then she saw me standing at the door.

She screamed, jumped to her feet and quickly disappeared from my view.

I waited to see what would happen. When she didn't reappear, I began to knock on the door. Nothing. I knocked louder. Still nothing. I began to shout in my most authoritative voice, "Police, ma'am." No answer so I pounded harder. "Ma'am, I'm with the highway patrol and we're trying to make sure residents on the mountain are ready for this storm. Can you just talk to me for a minute?"

Slowly she emerged from the shadows, looking suspiciously at me. She was wearing a short, terrycloth bathrobe and no shoes. I almost laughed out loud when I saw the meat cleaver in her hand. As she came closer, I pointed to my official-looking police hat. She reached for the door and cautiously looked at me.

"Are you okay?" I said. She nodded her head.

"Are you prepared for this storm?" Again she nodded.

"All right, then," I said, as I reached for the packet with the divorce papers, "Let me give you this list of emergency phone numbers and addresses just in case you have any trouble."

I handed her the packet, tipped my hat to her and started to walk away. From behind me I heard, "What?...You son of a bitch, these are divorce papers!"

Turning back I said "Yes Miss Fountain, you've been served."

Her face flushed red with rage. She raised her arm and flung the meat cleaver at my head. Only my quick reactions saved me from a major headache or worse.

I looked back at her and smiled, "Have a nice day."

"Fuck you, you piece of shit. I'll fucking kill you, bastard..."

I headed for my truck and climbed in. Glancing at her again, I saw that she was sitting on the steps, robe blowing up around her and bare feet in the snow, with her head in her hands, crying. At that moment I truly felt sorry for her—alone, hiding from a merciless media—deserted by friends and family—in a tiny little mountain cabin. Not like her infamous nights in Paris, London, New York and Hollywood, all carefully captured by the stalkerazzi for consumption by a knuckle-dragging, pathetic public. She had indeed fallen far.

My heart went out to her, but I knew I couldn't help her. I was now the enemy.

I started my truck, turned around and headed back down the driveway. Her image in my rear view mirror was slowly obscured by the swirling snow.

As I reached the bottom of the driveway I could see that the wind had picked up and was driving the snow flurries to white out conditions. I turned down the mountain, slowly creeping along, praying I wouldn't end up in a ditch. Ahead I heard a loud crack, and looked up just in time to slam on my brakes as a telephone pole slammed to the ground across the road. I slid into it, and felt a steel foot rung pierce the radiator. Through my windshield I could see a live wire writhing on the ground like a giant sparkler snake. Immediately I took my hands and feet off anything metal in the truck. Twice the giant electrical snake smacked against my hood, shooting sparks into the storm and leaving huge black gouges in the metal. If that thing hit my windshield, I was toast. It was time to act.

I waited until the snake writhed away from my truck, grabbed the doorhandle using my sweater (as if that would protect me from 18,000 volts), threw the door open and dove out into the storm. Quickly rolling away from the pole, I jumped to my feet and ran toward the back of the truck. Through the maddening snow I could see that the wind had caught the live wire and blown it off the other side of the road where it was spitting fire into a snow drift.

My radiator was dripping green antifreeze onto the road, so I knew the truck was done. As I put the sweater on, I assessed my options. I could sit in the truck and wait for a snowplow or ranger to come by, but who knew when that would happen? It was nearly dark now and nobody was likely to be out in this storm, at least until daybreak. That would mean spending the night in a freezing truck that could still be struck by a live electric wire. Trying to walk down the mountain would be suicide—I'd either freeze or walk off a cliff in this snow.

So there was really only one thing to do: go back to Alexis Fountain's little cabin hideout and somehow get her to let me in. I didn't look forward to that.

Turning up my collar against the wind, I started back up the mountain to the driveway and up toward the cabin. It was fully dark now and for a moment I wondered why there were no lights on. Duh! Phones were probably out too, I thought.

I began knocking on the door trying to see any sign of life inside. Nothing. No movement or lights. I looked at the carport and saw the Mercedes was still there, so Alexis couldn't have gone anywhere. Pounding harder on the door, I saw a flickering light against the far wall. Soon after, Alexis emerged with a candle in a holder. She walked to the door and held it up to see my face. Immediately her expression changed from slightly frightened to very angry.

"What do you want?" she said.

"Telephone pole fell on my truck." I said, "I can't get down the mountain."

I thought I saw the beginnings of a tiny smile cross her lips. "Sad," she said, "what do you want me to do about it?"

"I need to come in, call for help." I said.

"You can't, the phone is dead." she replied.

"Well can you just let me in, I'll freeze out here," I asked.

"Yeah. Not my problem. Go serve some more papers, that'll keep you warm," she said, as she turned to walk away.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that," I shouted at her, "it's just my job."

"Yeah, well fuck off." She shouted back as she disappeared into the living room.

"Great. Now I'm truly fucked," I thought as I considered my options. "Who am I kidding? I have no options. If I don't get inside there, I'm going to die."

I tried the door. Locked. There were two small windows next to the picture window that looked out toward the ridgeline but I didn't think I could get through them. Walking around the back of the cabin, I saw a pile of firewood next to the back door, which was solid and also locked. The only other windows were too high to reach. I grabbed a piece of firewood and headed for the front door.

I pounded on the door again and looked for Alexis but she was nowhere to be seen. So I carefully aimed the log at the glass in the door and smashed a corner of it. I quickly reached inside, unlocked the door and got in, just as Alexis came running from the living room.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she screamed, "Get out of here!"

"Look lady, if you think I'm going to freeze to death because you're pissed about those divorce papers, you're out of your spoiled little mind," I screamed back.

"Get out now or I will call the cops," she yelled.

"Yeah, good luck with that," I said, "You don't have a working phone and no one can get up here until this storm's over."

"You fucking bastard," she shrieked, just as she hit me with the candleholder, lit candle and all. I gotta admit, I didn't see that one coming. She connected just above my left eye and knocked me to my knees. Before I could react, she tried to kick me in the balls, narrowly missing but landing a good shot to the inside of my thigh.

Okay. That was enough. She threw another kick and I grabbed her feet and pulled them out from under her. Her face was almost comical with surprise as she fell hard on her ass. I quickly grabbed her arm and rolled her over onto her stomach, bending the arm up behind her back. I sat on her ass and pulled the other arm up too. She screamed in pain.

I felt my forehead and came away with blood on my hand. The fucking little bitch had cut me!

She continued to scream at me, calling me everything her limited vocabulary could muster. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"Calm down!" I shouted at her. That brought about another string of obscenities and threats.

"I said, calm down, now!" I yelled, now closer to her ear. She started screaming again.

That was it, I'd had enough. With one hand I pressed hard on her head and the other I wrenched an arm hard behind her—enough to hurt like hell but not break anything. She let out a yelp of pain and I leaned down to her ear with my best menacing voice, "Shut your fucking mouth right now or I'll tear your fucking arm off." To emphasize, I twisted it even further behind her back. She groaned, but then went silent. For a few seconds the only sounds in the room were the storm outside and both of us breathing hard.

"If I let you up," I asked, "will you be nice?" No answer. I twisted her arm a little more. "Will you?"

"Ow, yes," she said.

I slowly released her arms. It was dark in the cabin now, but in the dim firelight I could make out her body under the short robe. Her breasts were nice, not huge but really firm, about a 34C or so. Her long, tanned legs were defined and ended in a perfect bubble butt, a truly beautiful ass. It was not the first time I'd seen that ass.

My pal Mike Durning, who collects porn, had shown me a video that had been shot by Alexis Fountain's then-boyfriend. The scumbag had turned around and sold it to the highest bidder on the internet.

It showed a young Alexis doing her best to perform like a porn star. She sucked her boyfriend's cock, but she could only take the head in her mouth. She let him eat her pretty little pussy, but didn't respond much as he clumsily licked her. She climbed on top of him and sunk down on his dick, trying to look passionate. But it was obvious that despite her bad-girl image, she was either afraid of or bored with sex. I know she never came anywhere near an orgasm. I remember thinking she's got a Ferrari body but this boy was driving her like a moped.

As she turned over and sat up, she caught me checking her out. I quickly turned away, not wanting to go there.

"You're a tough fucker aren't you," she spat at me as she rubbed her shoulder, "you can beat up on a woman half your size."

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you or anyone else," I replied, "but I also don't want to die."

She turned away and neither of us spoke for a moment. Then I became aware of soft sobs and sniffles coming from her. Oh man! Crying women are one of my weaknesses. I turned toward her and gently touched her shoulder.

Instantly Alexis whirled around and hit my jaw with her fist, knocking me sideways. She scrambled to her feet and ran toward the living room. I jumped up and followed her into the dimly lit room. She ran to the fireplace, grabbed a poker and turned to face me. The firelight danced off her porcelain skin where her robe had fallen open. Her breasts heaved with each heavy breath she took, but her eyes never left mine. She made a mighty swing at my head. I ducked and the poker crashed into the wall next to me. I grabbed it from her hand and threw it to the floor, twisting her arm behind her. I grabbed the other arm and swung her around to face the wall.

"All right bitch," I said, "if you're gonna act that way I'll have to treat you accordingly."

"Let me go you bastard!" she screamed as she struggled to break free. Pulling my belt off, I wrapped it around her wrists behind her and secured her hands. She drew up her leg and tried to stomp on my foot. Fortunately, I saw it coming and was able to move aside. I then swept her legs out from under her and lowered her face first to the rug in front of the fireplace. Even then she tried to kick me.