The Commander Ch. 09

Story Info
Jet makes the biggest decision of his life
12.6k words
4.78
25.4k
26
Story does not have any tags

Part 9 of the 9 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 01/14/2014
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

The Commander – Part 9

---

It has been seven weeks since Don Malloy died, nearly five weeks since our legendary Dungeon party. We still talk about that party. That, and our move. I bought a new four thousand square-foot four bedroom condo. As these things always seem to go, I blew the budget, but I got a much nicer condo than we were looking for. The former owner vacated the premises and put it up for sale for over a year ago, and he was showing signs of desperation. He originally listed his unit for 5.5 million, and begrudgingly reduced his price by several decrements until he was asking 4.5 million last month. Still at the reduced price, no one was biting in this soft high-end market. I put in a cash offer of 4.1 million with a one week closing date. He accepted without a counteroffer. The good news is, my real estate agent tells me my old condo should sell for about 2.1 million, which is six hundred thousand more than I thought it would, so the budget will balance out after I sell the old property. Maybe I can rent it out until the market picks up before I sell it.

The new condo master bedroom is twice as large as our existing one, with his and her walk-in closets and a large heated tile floor bathroom with both a Jacuzzi and a shower. A second bedroom – as large as our old master bedroom – also has an attached bathroom. A regular sized bedroom and a smaller bedroom make four. I will use the smallest bedroom for my office. Jocelyn will take the second largest bedroom with the ensuite bath. There is a separate living room and dining room and an ultra-modern kitchen.

There are only two penthouse units on the twelfth floor, which makes the footprint of the combined units smaller than the floor below. The remaining floor space offers a lovely outdoor garden terrace that wraps around three sides of the condo. The east and west sides of the terrace are twelve feet wide, and the south terrace is twenty feet wide. Even when it is windy, you barely feel a draft on the terrace owing to eight foot high tinted glass perimeter walls.

The former owner converted a greenhouse at the west end of the terrace into a year-round glass sunroom. On mornings after we stay up all night, like we did at our Dungeon party, we might sit on the east terrace and watch the sun rise, and in the evening we will sit in the glass sunroom and watch the sun set. There are no high-rises nearby, so our view is unobstructed, and the south terrace is secluded, allowing Fiona to nude sunbathe in privacy. Although not exactly a waterfront property, there is only a municipal park between the condo building and the Hudson River to the West, and the zoning laws do not permit development on that park land.

I took possession of the property exactly one week ago today, on a Tuesday. M.B. Security did the upgrades on Thursday and Friday last week, to the tune of an extra $40,000. They were pleased to see the two penthouse apartments share their own private elevator that services only three floors – the twelfth floor, a private, locked entrance on the ground floor, and a private six car underground garage accessible only to penthouse owners. I took up Mary Bruno's offer, and the condo was legally purchased by a numbered corporation, which is wholly owned by a family trust, that I have total control over. The lineage is not completely untraceable, but it obfuscates the fingerprints of my ownership to anyone except a forensic accountant.

Speaking of real estate transactions, Don Malloy's house sold for $650,000 - $49,000 under my asking price. The circumstances were remarkably similar. I wanted a fast close on a vacated property, and someone offered cash – I accepted without countering. The sale closed two days ago, and the funds appeared in the estate trust bank account yesterday. I was finalizing the estate finances just before our own move.

Weeks before, when I sat at Don's funeral, a diabolically clever idea came to me while I was thinking about Cyrano de Bergerac. Suppose Jet were to "find" Don's holographic will (a handwritten will signed by Don with no witness signature – it is a legal document) while Jet cleaned out Don's desk at his home. Who was to say that will wasn't there all along? It would be penned in Don's handwriting and it would bear Don's signature. Suppose that this holographic will, dated when Don was in the hospital, revoked the Sam Allison will, and suppose it included Don's deathbed confession stating Don accidentally struck and killed the young boy, Tray Boullion, while he rode his bicycle. And suppose Don left one million dollars out of his estate to the Boullion family.

Now suppose Don wrote the security code to his front door on outside of the sealed envelope that contained the holographic will, and suppose Don also wrote a note on the envelope declaring that Bruce, an orderly at the hospital, promised to deliver the holographic will to Don's home. The taxi records could verify that, even if Bruce couldn't remember. It could all work, until I later realized it would almost certainly result in a police investigation of Don's affairs related to the homicide of a young boy. I don't remember where Don was or what Don was doing on the thirteenth of November, 2012, when Tray Boullion was killed. Suppose a record exists of Don being somewhere else – a bank machine maybe – at the same time – then what? I didn't want the police scrutinizing Don's affairs – Jet was at Don's house on the night The Commander hammered Jet's finger. Jet almost certainly left fingerprints. Even after the cleaners had been through Don's house, traces of Jet's blood and DNA may still be there. And while Jet could fool Fiona about Don being a client of his, he could not fool the police's forensic accountant. Not to mention the time Jason Braggs called me a liar about my past life. I felt I was already playing too close to the edge – following this Cyrano path was inviting disaster.

Two weeks ago, when I signed the agreement to buy my new condo, I decided then to abandon the Cyrano plan. But that decision was part of something bigger. I also arrived at a more fundamental understanding – call it a solemn declaration – a promise. If Jet was to become the honorable man I wanted Fiona to love, I had to stop preying on defenceless women. Don was dead, and I had to let him go. I decided that continuing to have sex with people I had already turned, like Nicole, was fair game. But no new victims.

I wasn't suggesting I would forfeit my powers altogether – but I decided I had to find a more honorable way to use them. I needed some time to decide how to harvest my powers with dignity and self-respect.

Since the Dungeon party, Fiona, Jocelyn, and I have felt caged in our old condo. It took a lot of time, energy, and coordination with Karen Bruno to arrange even simple things, like Fiona going to the spa. After a while, Karen wore us down, until the path of least resistance prevailed – we became condo hermits. Thankfully, the move to our new home offered a welcome distraction. We had to pack up the contents of the old condo – that took nearly a week. With Karen's supervision, Fiona and I broke out of our hermit shell and went furniture shopping. We were expanding from a two bedroom to a four bedroom home – from a combined living/dining room to separate rooms. That proved less productive than we hoped, and we realized one of our new bedrooms would probably go bare for a while.

Fiona wanted to hire an interior decorator, but that required pre-clearance from Karen Bruno. Everything took more time, energy, and effort than it should.

Yesterday – that was Monday – the security approved moving company arrived at the old condo, and they carried everything we owned into a moving van. We were in the midst of moving our contents in to the new condo this Tuesday, around ten in the morning, when Jocelyn's cell phone rang. She looked at the incoming number – it was Karen Bruno – again.

I heard Jocelyn's side of the conversation "Hi Karen ... yes, they're both here ... hang on." She went to fetch Fiona, who was in the master bedroom directing traffic about placement of the furniture. "Fiona," Jocelyn called out, "its Karen – she wants to talk to all of us." After almost a minute, Fiona came into the living room where Jocelyn and I were. Jocelyn selected the speakerphone on her cell phone and set it down on a moving crate.

"Go ahead, Karen – Fiona and Jet are here."

"Okay," I heard Karen's voice over the cell speakerphone. "I have Detective Juliotte from the San Antonio PD on the other line. Detective, please tell Ms. Wheaton what you just told me."

"Ma'am," the southern drawl started out of the speakerphone, "on Thursday last week, State Troopers found three individuals deceased in an abandoned warehouse just outside a small town called Bandera, about fifty miles from here. The State Troopers asked for our assistance in this case because of certain evidence they collected on scene. In our subsequent searches of the deceased's premises, we found evidence that one of these deceased was the person responsible for the credible threat against your life." We all looked at each other, hoping we correctly understood the significance of Detective Juliotte's news. He continued.

"Specifically, we found, on a computer laptop, a photo editing program with the exact, identical picture of an erotic dancer with your face digitally altered over top of the original face – the same picture that was left for you to find at your house. We also found a disposable cell phone with a call history that includes one outgoing call to the cell phone you possessed on the date you received the threatening request for money. The fingerprints on the cell phone and laptop match the deceased. We have sent them away for DNA testing just to dot all the i's. We have also uncovered a great deal more evidence, some of which I have shared with Ms. Bruno on her solemn promise she will not disclose any part of that evidence to anyone else, but I wanted to give her a clearer understanding of the magnitude of evidence we are now collecting." The line went quiet.

"Jocelyn," came Karen's voice again, "as Detective Juliotte explained, I cannot discuss with you this other evidence, but I have reviewed it with Detective Juliotte, and on its face value, it appears that the credible threat to your safety is over. Would you agree, Detective?"

"Absolutely," confirmed the southern drawl. "We have no reason to believe the threat ever extended beyond the individual in question. The credible threat against your life died with the deceased."

"Jocelyn and Fiona," Karen continued, "Jason and I are going to review this new development later this morning, or early afternoon latest. I am reasonably confident that, by end of day today, I will issue an official stand-down order on your protection detail. I want to be clear – nothing is official. But I wanted you to hear this news as soon as possible directly from Detective Juliotte."

"Detective Juliotte," Jocelyn asked, "have you found out anything about my ex-husband."

"No, ma'am," replied the drawl. "I regret I have no new information about Mr. Wheaton." He paused for a moment. "Ms. Wheaton, I may be breaking one or two rules by suggesting this, but I have had similar situations with your husband ... ah, pardon me, your ex-husband ... I have seen these circumstances before. I think you need to brace yourself for the possibility you may never learn what happened to him."

"I'm halfway there," replied Jocelyn.

"I understand, ma'am," Detective Juliotte offered with genuine sincerity. "I offer my deepest condolences."

"Thank you, Detective." Jocelyn then remembered to add, "you too, Karen."

I jumped in. "Karen, so what's next?"

"Well," Karen replied, "as I said, I need to review the case Jason, but I am pretty certain that is going to be a formality. After that, you get your life back. But again, I need to be clear. You must to wait for my official stand-down order before you start celebrating. Does everyone understand that?"

The three of us assured Karen we understood.

"Okay then," Karen concluded. "Jocelyn, I am going to hang up now, and I will call you this afternoon. Detective Juliotte, can you stay on the line, please."

"Yes, ma'am" the southern drawl replied agreeably. The line went dead.

Jocelyn and Fiona hugged each other for a long time. "I couldn't have done this without you," Jocelyn said to me, and pulled me into their embrace for a three-way hug. "I owe you both a huge debt I can never pay back."

"Yes you can," I corrected Jocelyn. "Keep on being a good sister to Fiona. Never forget that, and all is repaid in full," I ordered as a post-hypnotic command, and I removed the skip from Jocelyn while we were still hugging. I pulled away from the hug. Fiona and Jocelyn were still embraced, so Jocelyn did not see Fiona mouth the words "Thank You" to me with tears in her eyes. I went to the kitchen, pulled out one of the bottles from the cases of 1993 Dom Perignon we received from Left Hand Spankies, and put it in the fridge.

Minutes dragged into hours as we waited for Karen's call that afternoon. We filled the time with more unpacking and rebuilding furniture. Just past three-thirty, my cell phone rang – it was Jason Braggs. He told me Karen had just issued the formal stand-down order on Jocelyn and Fiona's protective detail. We all needed to come into the office the next day to sign off some papers and recover our automobiles. As of that phone call from Jason, we were free to resume our normal lives. I thanked him, hung up, and explained the call to Jocelyn and Fiona. They did a high-five as I went to the fridge and popped the cork on the chilled champagne.

"A toast!" I called out as we hoisted our champagne glasses.

"To new beginnings," offered Jocelyn. It was an apropos toast along at least a dozen dimensions, some of which Jocelyn and Fiona could never know.

"To new beginnings!" we all tapped our glasses and drank.

It was going to be nice to have my own BMW back. I had misunderstood the deal about cars. They didn't lease us one car – they kept rotating cars – each week – sometimes twice a week. They would swap one car for different one. As we became condo bound, we noticed the car swap less, but it was still one more chore to surrender the keys and learn all the new idiosyncrasies of the latest car.

We spent the rest of the day unpacking and setting up furniture. We barely made a dent in the unpacking – there were boxes everywhere. I decided to use the third bedroom as temporary storage – all unpacked boxes would go in there while we put together the rest of the condo. By six o'clock we were too tired and grimy to out for dinner, and no one knew where any shampoo or soap was. I ordered Szechuan from our old neighborhood and drove over to pick it up. I left right away and went to a corner drug store to pick up milk, bread, toilet paper, shampoo, and about fifty other basics you normally take for granted. By the time I got to the Szechuan restaurant, our take-out was ready.

Over dinner, we talked about what we should do next. Fiona looked at me. "What do you want to do?" she asked.

I thought about it for a while. "I know it sounds kind of lame," I said, "but I have never been to the Florida Keys."

"So like Key West?" Fiona asked.

"No, I'd like to go to some place quiet. Some place relaxing, peaceful. A secluded rented villa where we can bake in the sun, and drive down to Key West to party if we want."

"One thing, though," Fiona said. "I don't mean to sound selfish, but a rented villa – that means we do our own cooking, dishes, housecleaning ... you know. It isn't as much of a holiday for everyone."

"I'm way ahead of you," I said. I was willing to bet good money the disco sisters from Left Hand Spankies were willing to do cooking, cleaning, and who know what else in return for an all-expense paid trip to the Keys.

I bounced my disco sisters idea off Fiona – she gave me one of those thoughtful frowns. "Are you looking for someone to cook and clean, or someone to fuck?" Fiona asked.

"Why can't we have both?" I pointed out the obvious.

"While we're inviting people, why not Nicole?" Fiona thought out loud. "But I wouldn't ask her to clean."

"Fiona plus one works for me," I agreed.

"How about Andrei?" Jocelyn asked. Fiona and I shrugged a 'why not' look at each other.

"I will pay for the disco sisters' flight because they will work for us – I expect actual guests to pay their own return fare." Everyone agreed.

"When do we go?" Fiona asked. We bounced that discussion around until we decided we would leave Friday next week, returning ten days later on a Monday. That gave us enough time to organize the new condo and plan our trip. Jocelyn decided she would return to San Antonio this coming Sunday, stay there the week, and then she would join us in the Keys on Friday.

The next day, on Wednesday, Jocelyn, Fiona, and I went in to M.B. Security and signed the stand-down papers, and retrieved our cars. I also sent text messages to Caitlyn, Bailey, and Hannah explaining we were going to the Florida Keys with the dates we had in mind – did they want to join us – I would pay their way – they had to cook, clean, and shop. Caitlyn and Hannah were immediately agreeable – Bailey said no – she had other commitments. The next day, Bailey texted back – she changed her mind – could she still come along – I said yes. I told them to go out and buy some clothes and things they needed – I would reimburse up to $300 each. I gave them specific instructions about what kind of bathing suits I wanted them to buy.

Nicole thanked Fiona for the kind invitation, but no – it was a bad time to take a whole week out of nursing school, but Nicole asked if she and Kevin could visit for just the first weekend. Andrei turned down Jocelyn's invitation.

On Friday I rented a villa on Marathon Key through an on-line service. I phoned them to confirm the reservation. The agent told me it was a beautiful private property – right on the beach, with a secluded swimming pool, four bedrooms, modern kitchen, with many nice shops and restaurants nearby. I also purchased flights to Key West for Fiona, me, Caitlyn, Hannah, and Bailey, as well as Jocelyn's flight from San Antonio. I booked a full sized van out of Key West airport to take us and all our luggage to Marathon. There were another thousand maddening logistical details, and I decided to sort out as much as I could in advance so my stay in the Keys would be as relaxing as possible.

Bailey, Caitlyn, and Hannah drove to our condo the day before we flew south. They arrived around five in the afternoon. We went out for supper. During dinner, the girls explained that Caitlyn would do all the cooking and food shopping in the Keys. Her father, a Cordon Bleu accredited cook, is the head chef at the New York Intercontinental. Caitlyn grew up in the kitchen with her dad, and she loves to cook. Hannah and Bailey would do all the dishes, laundry, and house cleaning.

Fiona and I were already packed, so after we returned home from dinner, we chatted with the disco sisters. We laughed about the time we spent together at the Broadleaf Spa and the Left Hand Spankies. They talked about the great party we had in the hotel room. The disco sisters wanted to know of any developments since the run-in with tall-boy – there was none.

I could tell Hannah had something on her mind, and she finally screwed up the courage to ask how was it possible that I fucked her and then moments later Caitlyn gave me a blow job. This had obviously been a topic of contention among the disco sisters, because they were all interested in the answer.