Mrs. Hart's Ache Ch. 06

This is the fifteenth installment of

Mrs. Hart's Ache

Chapter VI "…What's the Plan Stan?…"

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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.

In this chapter James does a lot of thinking. He needs a plan to save Veronica Hart from two villains and a fate worse than death…

…so he can have the pleasure of consigning her to a fate slightly less dire, but one he's certain Mrs Hart will hate.

Tough shit.

Besides, he's certain that she will get her YaYa's out too.

Our hero knows that because he'll make sure that she does.

So read along as James plots her fate,

and takes time out with Missy Hart for inspiration.

Happy Reading.

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VI "…What's the Plan Stan?…"

"…Veronica Hart is also a vain, pushy, arrogant, demanding, sarcastic, jealous, teasing bitch who loves to be spanked.
A lot.
A whole lot.
A whole lot with a big leather paddle, on her naked ass..."

It was Saturday morning when I downloaded the scene between Veronica and Marco. With that download, I was certain that I had all the information and pictures I needed to get Her Royal Highness Mrs Veronica Hart dancing to my tune…

…or my paddle.

In order to exact revenge and retribution upon Veronica's head – or butt – I had been looking for a hook. Lydia and Marco had provided that hook in spades. It was the Ultimate Hook. Veronica was in deep shit. She just didn't know it yet.

But before I could take her down, I had to take the two villains down. That took some thought, a lot of planning, some assistance, and a whole bunch of luck.

I proceeded with the 'thought' part.

I set up a spreadsheet on my desktop in which I listed everything I knew or could surmise with reasonable accuracy. Then I put the facts in order.

I had all the pieces. It was time to put the puzzle together, starting with a review:

First came the cast of characters:
• Mrs George Hensford Hart aka Veronica.
• Melissa Christine Hart aka Missy
• Lydia Claudine Parker aka Lydia.
• Marco Lorenzo Scuzetti aka The Putz.
• Wendy Jean Saunders aka Wendy.
• James Mark Masterson, and his merry band

What's that…? Alright, if you insist, aka Marco.

(…the putz.)

Time out.

The merry band for the nonce shall remain nameless, since I refuse to give it all away! Read on.

Time in.

Second came pertinent information I knew about the cast:
1. Veronica is heavy into B&D as a 'bottom', a bent that she's sure to want kept secret. (The Ultimate Hook.)
2. Lydia is a Senior VP at Veronica's magazine.
3. Marco is a male model.
• Veronica uses Marco as her 'top'.
4. Marco and Lydia are partners in crime.
• Veronica has no knowledge of that partnership.
• Veronica has no knowledge of their crimes.
5. Lydia and Marco have enough on Veronica to both ruin her life and take over her company.
• They know about Veronica's secret bent.
• The have the video evidence of that bent hidden.
6. Lydia and Marco are guilty of various crimes.
• distributing cocaine.
• receiving kickbacks from fashion designers.
• rape, etc. of one Summer May Mathews.
• conspiracy to commit extortion
7. Marco is screwing Lydia.
• Lydia believes that she is Marco's main squeeze.
• Veronica does not know.
• Wendy does know.
• Lydia does not know that Wendy knows.
8. Marco is screwing Veronica.
• Lydia knows.
• Wendy does not know.
9. Marco is screwing Wendy.
• Wendy believes that she is Marco's main squeeze.
• Lydia does not know and would be pissed if she did.
• Veronica does not know.
10. Marco and Wendy make fun of Lydia.
• Lydia does not know and would be pissed if she did.
11. Marco makes fun of Wendy.
• Wendy does not know.
12. Marco has screwed Missy.
• Veronica does not know.
• Veronica would have Marco emasculated if she did know about the relationship.
• Lydia does know
A. Lydia wants photos.
B. Lydia wants Missy center stage at a private party.
• Wendy does not know.
13. Missy has told Marco to get lost.
• Lydia does not know, and is sure to be pissed.
14. I know it all.

Next came the basic question: what I do with what I know?

It came to me all at once. I spent a couple of hours laying out the basics. The deeper I got into it, the easier it got. As with any problem, the key was to break it into pieces, then solve each piece.

By Saturday afternoon, I had the rough picture laid out to my satisfaction. It was very rough, but those infamous "W's" and "How" were answered. Well, almost all of them. I also had the basics of a timetable set. With that, I sat back to think again.

Time out.

So, what is the plan, Stan? Think. What's the ultimate goal, and what has to be done to achieve that goal? Haven't got it yet? Okay, I'll lay it out for you (here's a hint: it's five plans, man, you haven't been paying attention!)

Time in.

Here's what was laid out in my spreadsheet:

(1) Operation Tinkerbelle: Taking Wendy down.

Who: Wendy.
What: The subornation and ultimate punishment of.
Why: To force her participation in Operation Fat Ass and Operation Guido; because she should be made to pay for her part in betraying and abusing Summer.
When: Beginning the morning of Day 1.
Where: Her office at the magazine, for starters.
How: Extortion; Unlawful Restraint and Assault.

(2) Operation Fat Ass: Taking Lydia down.

Who: Lydia.
What: The punishment of for numerous crimes.
Why: To get her copies of the evidence against Veronica; because of her plan to assault Missy; because Summer deserves some recompense for the abuse she suffered at her hands.
When: Beginning the afternoon of Day 1, or the morning of Day 2,; depending on the results of Operation Tinkerbelle.
Where: Lydia's Office if necessary; her lake house if lucky.
How: Extortion; Unlawful Restraint and Assault.

(3) Operation Guido: Taking Marco down.

Who: Marco
What: The punishment of for numerous crimes.
Why: To ensure that he does not have copies of the evidence against Veronica; because Summer deserves some recompense for the abuse she suffered at her hands; because of the his abuse and planned abuse of Missy; because he's a selfish asshole who uses and abuses women without any thought for their regard; because is truly is a putz.
When: Beginning the afternoon of Day 1, or the morning of Day 2,; depending on the results of Operation Tinkerbelle.
Where: Lydia's office if necessary; Lydia's lake house if lucky.
How: Extortion; Unlawful Restraint and Assault.

(4) Operation Honeymooners: Separating the two villains.

Who: Lydia and Marco.
What: The breaking up their partnership.
Why: To make it easier to get their copies of the evidence they have against Veronica; because they're assholes who deserve a bit of pain in their lives.
When: Beginning the afternoon of Day 1, or the morning of Day 2,; depending on the results of Operation Operations Fat Ass and Guido. Note that this Operation is to begin immediately upon completion of either of those Operations.
Where: location TBD. (I had an idea, but I needed to convince a potential accomplice first.)
How: Providing evidence of Marco's duplicity to Lydia.

(5) Operation Mama – better known as Plan One: Teaching Veronica lessons in decorum, among other things.

Who: Veronica.
What: The disciplining of.
Why: Because she is the original bitch and desperately needs to be taught that she is not the Queen of All She Surveys, and because I will so thoroughly enjoy being the instructor.
When: Beginning June 16th, the day after both Missy and Miriam leave for the summer. (Which at that time was two weeks away.)
Where: The townhouse, for starters.
How: Extortion; Unlawful Restraint and Assault.

I looked it all over, then sat back to think some more.

It seemed to me that the sine non qua for any and all of the plans was a base of operations. A place for planning and preparation, but also a secure place to which the villains could be brought for interrogation and… well, whatever. My ground.

The second most important objective was taking the Hook away from Lydia and Marco. I was certain they had hard evidence of Veronica's peccadillos: vids and pictures at least. Without those, any threat to ruin Veronica was empty.

Besides, though they might yet embarrass, possibly ruin Veronica, the release of the evidence of their criminal activities would land them in jail. They had her, but I had them.

Stalemate.

Except… Look, let's be real: public embarrassment is one thing; time in state prison is punishment of a higher order.

By magnitudes.

All I had to do was convince Lydia and Marco that I didn't give a shit what happened to Veronica, but that I would send them to prison if they didn't give it up. They also would have to believe that the evidence against them was set with a 'dead man' switch.

In other words, if anything untoward happened to me – or any member of my hypothetical team – the evidence of their crimes would be released to the police automatically. Copies of a certain DVD secure in the possession of various lawyers with sealed instructions would see to that.

Checkmate.

Much more satisfying.

The first four plans also required some assistance. For those, I'd need a team. I'm smart, and I'm daring, but I'm also just one guy. To be successful, I'd need some high-powered help. I knew just where to get it.

But Plan One, Operation Mama was mine alone, at least for the takedown. I wasn't planning to share that with anyone. Veronica might find herself involved with new playmates at some point, but that would come later if it came at all. The object there was to administer some private punishment, not expose Veronica to the world.

Teaching Veronica some manners would be cool beans; exposing Veronica to public ridicule would be vindictive and mean.

Not my style.

Once I had it all laid out, I spent the weekend considering options. I did shelve everything Saturday evening for a date with Missy. Anything else would have been out of character. I hadn't not had a date on Saturday night since I was twelve. Mom would have called for an ambulance and put me in ICU.

Besides, a little conversation, a bit of dancing, something to eat and a lot of good sex always clears my mind. Mr Snake appreciates it too. Whacking off is okay for relief, but if he doesn't get the genuine article at least a couple times a week, he gets real jumpy. What can I say, he's spoiled.

Missy borrowed the key for a cute little bungalow down by the beach. We met Justin and Mare for dinner before the four of us got in a little club action. Missy thoroughly enjoyed the food and dancing, but was also eager to practice her lessons.

By Midnight, we were in the bungalow and she was practicing the bejezus out of Mr Snake. He likes it when she practices on him. Her little pussy is rapidly becoming one of his favorite partners. As far as the Queen Bitch knew, Missy was staying the night with her friend of the key.

By that point in our relationship, Missy knew well what turned me on. To a small extent, I could take credit for opening the door on a whole new world for her. But being the adventurous person she is, she took off on her own. She was spontaneous, and she liked to experiment; Mr Snake and I became her lab rats. She rewarded us well.

That night had to do with dominance and submission: Missy Hart style. I have to believe spontaneity was not part of the exercise: she'd come prepared with her own little kit.

We were on the bed together, and I was down to my boxers while she was still in her dress.

Time out.

Nice dress by the way: strapless; A-line style; empire waist. The hem hit about mid-thigh. Nice thighs. The creamy silk was spectacular against her tan.

Time in.

She pushed me onto my back for a kiss, straddling me. I got a hint of where the night was going when she broke the first kiss. With an impish grin, she tied my wrists to soft cotton ropes dangling from the headboard.

Uh oh.

Mr Snake was suddenly real interested in pursuing that experiment.

Traitor.

Missy slipped to the floor and pulled my boxer off, then gave Mr Snake a squeeze. While he and I watched entranced, she reached up behind, unzipped, then shimmied out of the dress. Her eyes never left my face.

If she was looking for a reaction, she got one.

Mr Snake strained higher for a better look. In a burst, I let out the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding when that dress went down. Oh mama, how phat isthat!?

Her bountiful breasts were cradled in a strapless demi bra showing maximum cleavage. Her dark pink nipples embossed, coloring the white lace cups. Sheer white panties stretched across her curved hips; a tiny pair of lowrise boy shorts that covered everything and hid nothing. The plump lips of her hairless pussy bulged. Nice camel toe!

Sheer white stayups graced her dancer's legs. Strappy cream sandals with three inch heels completed the risqué picture.

Missy tossed the dress over a chair, then did a pirouette to give me the full effect. Dude! She giggled, those emerald eyes sparkling at my expression. Mr Snake was saluting.

She leaned down to give him a pat, then a peck on the chin and told him seriously that he was in for a surprise. We were both surprised when she petted his head again then danced out the bedroom door giving her ass an extra wiggle just to tease.

Jesus! Missy's ass looked so veryfine in those little boyshort panties! Her tanlines showed right through the sheer nylon.

Our surprise turned to shock when she walked in again, holding a basin of water in one arm, a towel over her shoulder and scissors and razor in hand. Mr Snake damn near had an embolism. He did start to faint when she tucked a towel under my ass.

Despite everything that I could do to talk her out of it, forty minutes later, Mr Snake and his two pals were as bare as her pussy. I was very careful to remain as motionless as possible as I hissed dire threats. Missy ignored me.

I must admit, the cool of the menthol lather was stimulating. But I just knew that I was going to be itchy until the hair grew back.

Shit!

As she worked the razor, Missy explained to me that if she could do it for me, I could certainly return the favor, since she didn't care for pubic hair stuck in her teeth either.

Shit!

What could I say? She was right. It was only fair.

Shit!

I bitched all the way through the ordeal, well at least until she yanked out a couple of hairs to get my attention, then sweetly threatened to gag me with her towel. I shut up, but I wasthinking curses awful loud, even while she rinsed me off and patted me dry. It wasn't until stretched out between my legs with a pillow tucked under her chest that even my silent grumbling trailed off.

About ten seconds later, I'd forgotten whatever it had been that I'd been bitching about. I forgot everything but her lips when she took Mr Snake deep. Mama it was good!

Missy gave me one of the best blowjobs of my life that night. She put everything she knew into it. I can still feel her tongue swirling around the glans and slithering along the shaft; her sharp teeth nibbling at my sac and nipping the slit; her delicate fingertips feathering my hairless balls – Jesus! that one felt weird! – her soft lips pulling at my shaft as her cheeks hollowed, vacuuming my cock.

About thirty seconds into it, Mr Snake had completely forgiven Missy for the scare. He was deep in one of his three favorite places. He's not one to hold a grudge, and when a lady asks forgiveness so sweetly, he just stands up throbbing and smiles. Missy knew that.

Practice makes perfect. Missy had been practicing. She was perfect. I went off like a moon shot. Missy swallowed it all while stroking my shaft, urging more.

Chyaa that girl can suck cock!

Time out.

At eighteen, she's a friggin' expert at felatio. Can you imagine how good she'll be in twenty years? I was betting that her future husband – whomever he might be – would have to learn to lick pussy just as well.

Time in.

Speaking of licking pussy: Missy was nowhere near done with me. Mr Snake might be snoozin', but my tongue was very available. Not that I had much choice, what with my wrists still tied to the headboard.

First she gave me a sexy striptease, losing both her bra and those lascivious boyshorts in the process. Not that I was complaining, but she kept the hose, and the heels too.

She had left enough slack to be able to position herself comfortably without breaking my arms. She peered down between her bare breasts, gave me a wicked smile and ordered me to eat her pussy. Sweet pussy. I think I said that already.

A very sweet pussy!

Missy was in complete charge. She knows that I prefer to control the scene, but my preferences were not her priority that night.

She buried her fist in my hair a pulled my face to her juicy sex. She held me there with one hand and took a firm grip on the headboard with the other. In about five seconds she was bouncin' on my face and trying hard to break the headboard with her grip. Missy loves to have her pussy licked.

She didn't last ten minutes. Part of that was because I'm a friggin' expert at eating pussy, but I can't take all the credit for her goreous orgasms.

There's that plural thing again.

Most of the credit goes – I think – to her state: she was so friggin' pumped by the scene, she was halfway to a hellacious orgasm before my tongue touched her pussy.

From my position I couldn't see much, but the view of her naked tits bouncing and quivering with each lick was enough. Mr Snake was getting interested again, but Missy was gonna get hers first. Her way.

I knew the only way I'd get my wrists untied was to give her my best. Submitting to the inevitable, I gave it to her. Thank Rudy I had spent half my life exercising my tongue. She gave that muscle a workout; twenty minutes at least. My lips too.

Feathering teases all around; flicking her clit with the pointed tip; broad strokes over her pouting lips; again narrowed to scoop through the crease, opening her butterfly wings; finally spearing deep, fucking her pussy with my tongue.

When my lips closed around her clit, sucking gently, the tip of my tongue teasing, Missy got hers. In spades.

I think I've described various female orgasms as 'launched' or 'went ballistic' or even 'went berserko'. Well, there is no describing Missy's best orgasm that night. Suffice to say, she went to a different place. She was gone close to a minute. That's a long time to maintain the pinnacle.

Head thrown back, wailing to the ceiling; tremors racing through her body, breasts quivering with effort, she reached… straining… straining… held it… held it… held it…

…then collapsed with a last fading cry. She crouched there panting, eyes closed, her sweet ass resting on my chest for a few moments. Finally rousing herself just enough to move, she slid bonelessly off my chest to lay back gasping beside. If I could have, I would have taken her in my arms. My problem; her fault.

As it was, when her breathing eased, she rolled over to spoon my hip with the side of her face on my chest. Her leg cocked across my groin, brushing Mr Snake. The sensation of the nylon against my bare skin made him stand a bit straighter. She gave him another little pat, then took him in hand, fingertips feathering.