The Outing of Claire LaPointe

Last year, I wrote a story entitled Foul Language, wherein a bitter, angry Geoff Matheson had been through an ugly, unjustified divorce from his wife of 30 years. The most dispiriting part of the whole episode was the vile treatment he received at the hands of his wife's divorce lawyer, one Claire LaPointe.

Geoff survived the divorce, and moved to the West Coast to start a new life. He was not a happy man, and only the single good fortune of having a large corporation purchase an obscure patent of his, made his economic situation livable.

Once in a while, opportunity and luck combine to produce a satisfying result. This is the story of just such a combination.

The Outing of Claire LaPointe:

Sit back dear readers and enjoy my little tale. It was the only bright spot, save my patent sale, that I had in those wretched months of my divorce. During the negotiations on the patent sale with the buyers, I was meeting with my lawyer, Scott Olsen, at his office downtown, and when the meeting ended, I would often stop at the bar in the middle of his block for a drink or two before I headed back to my crappy townhouse in Guelph.

I was drinking quite a bit more in those days, but I was still careful that I wasn't going to get picked up for being over the limit. Anyway, one day I was sitting at the bar on my usual stool, and I couldn't help but overhear a conversation between two men sitting beside me, whining about their divorces. I got interested when I heard the name Claire LaPointe, and then a string of expletives. I decided to get nosey and asked them if they too were victims of the female vulture, and they both said yes, among other unrepeatable expressions.

I told them that I was a refugee from her clutches as well, and we all compared stories about how she had ravaged us without mercy. I was in a contemplative mood I guess as I absently asked the question about how many others there may be of us in this club of victims of her wrath. One of the guys suggested that was easy to find out. All we had to do was check the court records for divorces and see which ones she had represented the wife. We talked a bit more and I had the germ of an idea, but I didn't want to get their hopes up, so I asked them for their business cards, and gave them mine.

I went through the court records for a couple of years and I can tell you, it was tough slugging. Luckily, I had all kinds of time since I had resigned from my job, and besides, it was a labor of hate. I carefully noted the names of the defendants in each of her cases and it was obvious that she only handled women clients. This bitch had a very specific mission; destroy as many men as possible. It got me to thinking that there may be more to this that meets the eye.

I had gathered as much information as possible about the men she had victimized and started to track them down. Again, I had all kinds of time, and in this case, I had a mission to accomplish. One by one, I contacted the men on my list and asked them if they were interested in my plan of revenge. After twenty contacts, I had eleven affirmatives and I thought that should be enough, but if we needed more, I had a list of many names with which to follow up.

The plan was simple, risky, and had no guarantee of success. I had come to the opinion that this woman was a man-hater, and I suspected she would act this out in her lifestyle. There was only one way to find out. I proposed that each of us contribute up to a maximum of five hundred dollars and we would hire a private detective to follow her, and find out what we could about her private life. Eleven of the men I contacted agreed. Of those who didn't, almost all of them had been left in a state of near poverty and couldn't afford to join us. I told them that no matter what, I would keep them informed of our progress. Each and every one of them was with us in spirit.

Scot knew of a private detective, Terry Bolton, who would do the kind of work we wanted. In addition, since we were never going to take any of this to court, we could count on him to use whatever means necessary to get information with the stipulation that he never tell us how he got it. I met with Terry in his office uptown, and I was quietly amused that it looked nothing like the offices I remembered from the movies. It was new and modern and very efficient looking. I gave Terry the background, just how many men had been victimized by this woman, and our objective. We needed to get any dirt we could on this woman.

Terry was sympathetic, but cautious. He explained the law and what he could and couldn't do, but in the end, he agreed that what we needed was within the scope of his capability. I gave him the requested two thousand dollar retainer and he promised to keep me informed regularly. I had no option but to trust him, and I fervently hoped I wasn't throwing my fellow victims' money away on a wild goose chase.

It was almost two weeks before I heard from Terry, but it was worth the wait.

"Well, I have some interesting information on Ms. LaPointe," Terry began. "She is, without doubt, a lesbian. Moreover, she isn't particularly loyal to any one partner. She seems to have more than a couple of intimate friends. I'm also pretty sure she is the dominant partner in these relationships. Very dominant, if you catch my drift," he said with what I could detect was a note of triumph.

"Nice going Terry," I replied. "I have to tell you I suspected this, but now the question is, what do we do next?"

"Well, Ms. LaPointe is a bit careless. She often entertains her friends in her apartment near her office. She doesn't live there, but she uses it for her business and personal liaisons," he stated. "Let's just say that if someone wanted to bug her place, she makes it fairly easy for them." I could almost see the smile on his face, and I hoped he could imagine the one on mine.

"That makes things fairly straightforward, doesn't it?" I suggested.

"Quite. I'll get back to you, but you should be aware I'm going to be spending some more of your money," he said seriously.

"How much more?"

"Probably another twenty-five hundred, maybe a bit more."

"OK ... we can handle that. I'll keep my fingers crossed that we get something really solid," I said.

"I'll call you when I have something worthwhile," he said, signing off.

Ten days later, Terry called and asked me to meet him at this office. He had something to show me. I instantly agreed, and we set up a meeting for the next morning. I couldn't wait. I could only hope we had something really nasty on the bitch. I walked into Terry's office with a spring in my step, and hope in my heart.

"Well, Geoff, I think I have what you need," he began. "However, you must never reveal how you got this and of course, if anyone comes back to me, I'll deny everything."

"Understood. We have no reason to tell anyone anything that would come back on you. I'm the only person of our group who knows you are our man," I offered.

"Good. Why don't you come around here and I'll show you what I've got," he suggested.

Terry had a laptop on his desk and obviously had inserted a DVD in the slot. He moved the mouse and the video screen popped up and he clicked on the play arrow. What followed could have dislocated my jaw if I hadn't been careful. It began with Claire LaPointe in some sort of bondage outfit consisting on a shiny black brassiere, skimpy black shiny panties, a studded collar and shiny, patent leather boots that came up almost to her knees. It was obviously shot in a bedroom that was very austere in its décor. She wasn't a beautiful woman by any means and with her clothes off, she was porkier than I remembered, but then I never had looked at her in a sexual way.

As the DVD continued, she went off-screen and reappeared, dragging a young woman in by her blonde hair. I could hear the girl protesting in pain, but Claire seemed oblivious to her pleas and pushed her down across a bed, face first. She looked very young and I wondered if Claire had pulled her off the street, or she was a lover of some other kind. I didn't have long to wait as I could hear Claire's voice bark a sharp order to the young girl.

"Get your ass up in the air, bitch! You know what I want," she snapped. She slapped the young girl's backside twice and both times the girl yelped. These weren't love slaps, and the girl wasn't faking pain. The outline of her hand was imprinted on the girl's ass in white. Claire then reached down to a night stand just below the line of sight of the camera and picked up something that I didn't recognize right away. It didn't take me long to figure out what it was though.

"Holy Fuck! Is that what I think it is?" I exclaimed. It was an artificial cock; a strap-on. I'd never really seen one before but this was something else. It was jet black, it was almost as thick as a rolling pin and it was at least 12" long. She reached back to the night stand after she'd belted this 'thing' on around her waist and picked up what appeared to be a tube of lubricant and greased that big pole up. The young blonde on the bed kept peering over her shoulder with a worried look, waiting for the next move. She didn't have long to wait. Claire pointed the massive cock at the girl's pussy and began to shove it in without much finesse. No worrying about the girl's discomfort or trying to accommodate the size of this thing, she just shoved it into her as hard as she could.

It was hard to watch and definitely not erotic. The young blonde was in pain and yet was submitting to it as if she couldn't get away, even though she wasn't restrained in any way. The more I watched the poor young kid I began to wonder about how old she would be and where did she come from?

"How old do you think that girl is?" I finally asked.

"Don't know, but I'm trying to find out. It isn't a criminal act if she consents and is over 14, but there's also a clause about dependency or trust. That's in there for the school teachers and scout masters and priests and such. It would be pretty hard to prosecute, but I think just letting some of her corporate clients see this and know that kid may only be fifteen or sixteen would probably serve you just as well," he offered seriously.

I was repelled at what I saw and wondering if there was anything more. I asked Terry if this was the only kid she used.

"No. Not by a long shot. She has a stable of "little lambs" as she calls them. So far I've identified four and I know from listening to her phone calls that there are more. Some of them are street kids, I'm sure. Whether she pays them, I don't know, but I'll find out sooner or later." He said all this in a matter of fact voice as if he was talking about buying a new suit.

"There's more and you won't like this one any better." he said seriously. He flicked the mouse and the screen emptied again and started up with Claire leading a young boy with a collar around this neck over to the bed and pushing him face down on it just as she had with the girl.

"Jesus H. Christ!" I exclaimed. "She not going to do what I think she's going to do is she." I said looking at Terry with what must have been even more shock.

"Oh yes she is, and this one ain't pretty. You said she hated men and this will give you some idea of how much," he said with a note of sadness.

I couldn't tell how old the boy was from my brief glimpse of his face, but I got the impression he might be a juvenile. He was skinny and very pale, and I would have guessed he couldn't be much more that 16, if that. What followed defied description and I won't even try. I don't think I'll ever get that image out of my mind. I'm sure watching a live execution couldn't be any worse. When she had finished with him, there was blood coming from his rectum, and he virtually had to crawl off the bed. Claire stood with her hands on her hips and what I can only describe as a smirk on her face before she took the strap-on off and the scene went black.

I knew Claire LaPointe was a heartless bitch when it came to men, especially married men, but I had no idea she could be this foul. I wanted her ass on the cross more than ever now. It had become personal when she fucked me over in the divorce, but now it was something far more important.

"Terry, I can't imagine these kids would do this voluntarily. They must be doing it for money and they must be desperate; like street kids," I said after some thought.

"Yah ... that's what I though too, but she calls them on the phone to contact them, so I can't imagine these kids having cell phones unless she supplies them," he replied.

"Well, these days I think you can get "throwaway phones" fairly cheaply and when the time is used up, you just go get another one. Maybe that's what she's doing." I was sitting on the corner of his desk and I was lost in thought. I needed an idea of how to take this vicious bitch down, but nothing really permanent was coming to me.

"How many of these scenes do you have so far?" I asked the detective.

"Four. Three girls and that young boy."

"What do we do now?"

"Nothing. I've a couple of friends on the police force and I've already talked to them and shown them what I have. They're going to stake her out and see if they can get enough on her to get a warrant and then pop her when she's got someone in her apartment. I can count on them not to blow this deal and fuck it up for us. I guess of couple of their fellow officers have had some experience with her too."

"Can I have a copy of the DVD?" I asked, not really sure I wanted one.

"Sure, you paid for it, it's yours. Just remember, if anybody asks how you got it, it came in the mail with no return address and no note. Understood?"

"Understood!" I slid off the desk and walked around his office for a minute shaking my head, stopping to stare out his window at the city. I wasn't really seeing anything; I was lost in thought.

"Welcome to my ugly world," Terry finally said quietly. I just looked at him and nodded. Ugly seemed like an understatement.

I showed our group of eleven the DVD at one of their places in the city. It was more than a couple of them could handle, and they headed for the bathroom to throw up, fortunately not at the same time. When it was over, we sat around and talked about what we would do next.

In the end, we decided to send anonymous copies in the mail to five of her corporate clients, and the Law Society. The trouble with that strategy was we wouldn't probably ever find out if she had lost her clients, and only a public disbarment would tell us if the Law Society had acted. It was left to Terry to put the icing on the cake for us six days later.

"I have some interesting news for you, Geoff." Terry said with a very upbeat tone of voice. "The police have arrested one Ms. Claire LaPointe and charged her with Pandering and Interference with a Minor. They obtained a search warrant, and just by pure luck happened to arrive while she was "entertaining" one of her little lambs. By some quirk of fate, a reporter from TV6 happened to be in the area, and it looks like her arrest is going to be very public. This could cause her some embarrassment," he laughed.

"No shit! That's fantastic. You just made my day, Terry," I enthused.

"You're welcome and call me anytime you want to take down another of these creepy women," he offered.

After I had hung up, I quickly began calling my co-victims and spreading the good news. There was great joy in Hogtown that night; at least in about twenty abodes that I knew of. I never did find out what happened at her trial since I had left town on my way west by then. Scotty told me that she would get a criminal record for sure, since she had decided to take a plea in lieu of a public trial. And, after ignoring our original DVD and carrying on "business as usual", the Law Society disbarred Ms. LaPointe and as far as I'm concerned, I can't see her doing any hapless husbands any more harm. I wasn't so sure about the street kids, however.

Just as a footnote, I was so pissed at the Law Society for sweeping her activities under the carpet that I wrote them an anonymous letter with a copy to the Attorney General of the Province, the two prominent Newspapers in Toronto, and TV6, including a free copy of the infamous DVD. Neither the Attorney General nor the second place paper said a peep, but the number one paper and the TV station made a big deal of it, and started an investigation into what the Law Society might be covering up in the activities of some lawyers. All in all, it made for a perfect ending to a sorry bloody part of my life.