February Sucks - Jim's had Enough

Linda looked at Dee and the expression told Dee that the game was afoot.

Jim leaned over to her and whispered, 'You know you're the most beautiful woman here, don't you?'

Her smile still wasn't there.

He continued, 'Maybe we should take this back to our room?'

At this point, Linda still had control over everything. She could still fix things. Still, make the right decision. She was still in control. Everything was in her hands. She could stop all this, and attempt to fix her life- what there was of it.

She didn't.

Motioning to Dee and grabbing her purse, she rose and said, "I need to go to the lady's room, dear." They left without a backward glance. When they got to the lady's room, Dee was giggling and wetting herself in concert with Linda's excitement. Linda grinned and turned to her friend.

"Go back and keep him there for a while. It won't take long to leave. We're going to his place, and I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. At least till tomorrow afternoon, I hope. This is going to be epic!!"

Dee squealed.

"I'm so jealous. I want details, explicit ones. Pictures, if you can. Good luck, and please, do whatever I would!!"

O.K., the rest is a matter of record and I won't bore you. Besides, Jim has already lived through it once. I won't beat him up again.

The love-birds, or should I say 'lust-birds', escaped out the back door of Morrison's and got into Marc's custom Mercedes Maybach 6.0 liter V-12 Turbo. His driver shut the back door and got in and awaaay we go. They booked to the freeway and headed for the bridge -and the crossing to Illinois.

It was truly custom in its interior layout. No standard 'Corinthian Leather': the seats were done in a Merino wool/silk blend, protected with Scotch-guard.

I wonder why.

There was a very extensive bar and ice chest. A video screen was front and center, with a discreet smoked glass partition between the front seats and the back. Also, a video camera that could be used to record any activities on the back seat.

Ahem!!

It also could replay to the video screen on the dash. The lighting was very conducive to amorous endeavors and Linda was already horny, so she no sooner hit the luxurious seats than her arms were around his neck and her tongue was down his throat. As they pulled out onto the interstate, Marc's hands had already divested her of the wisp of panties she was wearing and her dress was down around her waist and bunched around her hips. Her breasts were exposed seconds later and she moaned as he nipped at her nipples.

"OHH, it took you long enough!", she groaned as she wet all over the seat.

(Oh, That's why....)

Her head dropped to his exposed cock (so much bigger and longer than, oh, what was his name? Jim, that's right, Jim.) They were up on the highway and starting across the bridge.

Now, all this was occurring while Jim (Her husband? You remember him, right??) was melting down, screaming for his wife and coming unglued. Remember? Well, the histrionics did not go unnoticed. Up in the 'ether'...

Karma was nudged out of her meditation by the bad vibes she was feeling. Checking on her charges in the mortal world, she was shocked and appalled by the sheer effrontery that Linda had displayed. The term 'self-centered, cheating, slut bitch' briefly crossed her mind, even though Karma usually left humans to their own downfalls. But this poor man was undeserving of what he was going through. She thought, for a brief moment, if she should interfere. She closed her eyes and cast her thoughts forward to see what would befall them all.

Her eyes snapped open and the maniacal laughter that issued from her mouth was a sound to behold.

"Oh, that's priceless! I could not have done better myself. Have at it, humans. I approve!" Smirking and grinning while she was shaking her head, she rose and went for a swim in the warm waters of Tahiti. So what did she see? Let's find out, shall we??

Marc and Linda sucked and fucked for a good thirty minutes on the drive to Cahokia. They pulled up to Marc's 'Estate', and entered the gates, with the metal barrier sliding closed behind them. Safe!!

(YEAH, RIGHT!! The shoe was going to drop.)

Linda was trying to pull her dress (What was left of it) onto her right shoulder when they entered the foyer and were introduced to Marc's lawyer, several teammates, a few local big shots, and ten stunningly gorgeous women, all in various stage s of undress or some naked. There was evidence of some non-prescription drugs and copious amounts of alcohol. The looks on the men's and women's faces were borderline pornographic lust.

Linda gasped.

"OH, FUCK THIS!!," she said, and her dress hit the floor, revealing her in her stockings, garter-belt and high heels. She grabbed a glass of something as she brushed past a grinning Marc LaValliere and started her debauchery. In minutes, she was fucking someone, eating out a tall redheaded woman, and jerking off a second, well-endowed black man. As the first guy was getting close and gasping, she pulled her face out of the spasming redhead's snatch, glared at the black guy, and said, "You're next, cowboy!" then she was 'eating buffet' again. Marc was grinning, and doffing his clothes, thinking to himself, 'Best pickup yet. She may be worth a second call!'

Fast forward to the present time-

So here we are, outside the mansion. Let's recap, shall we?

Two FBI HRT Teams, two different State's Police Emergency Action Teams, local law enforcement from Cahokia and surrounding communities, at least four news crews, three from Missouri, several ambulances, fire trucks(?), and emergency vehicles.

I'm pretty sure if you checked the surrounding foliage, you would find a partridge in a pear tree, somewhere.

(Chuckle. Sorry, I digress again.)

Jim was the subject of intense attention, both from the law enforcement types and the news media. It had grown beyond a local story and was now national news, even pushing the upcoming Presidential election aside. LW was by his side constantly, monitoring his interviews and the questioning by authorities. But he didn't have to worry. Between Jim's sad story Marc's clandestine reputation, and Ginny's subtle handling of the details, this was a publicity bonanza.

Just not for Marc and Linda.

That's when the team reps from the Sharks showed up, with a small army of lawyers. The two Caddies, remember? In a panic? They immediately tried to shanghai the proceedings. LW then showed his forte and stood next to Jim and across from Ginny, who was more or less leading a 'team' of about five different reporters. Claire Manson stood to LW's Left, and Joe Wilson, his bodyguard, slightly behind her.

"And who might you gentlemen be?", intoned LW, knowing full well who they were. He recognized the two lead attorneys, James Knight, and Arthur Desmond, the two principal partners of Knight, Desmond, McCall, and Smith, LLC. Excellent contract and labor lawyers, probably some of the best in the Midwest. Not worth a shit as criminal attorneys.

"We are the Shark's team legal reps, James Knight and Arthur Desmond. We are here to represent Mr. LaValliere and the Sharks in this travesty of justice. And you are?", Knight intoned with a look of superiority on his face and sneer on his lips.

LW just smiled and said, "LW Sterns. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Knight paled and pulled the goldfish impersonation we've read so much of lately. Desmond choked and looked like he was going to pass out. 'SHIT!' briefly escaped his lips before he clammed up.

"Well, GENTLEMEN, do we know where Mr. La Costa is?" (Marco La Costa was Marc's personal lawyer. LW had a good idea where he was-probably inside, at the 'festivities' going on in the mansion.)

"ERR, no, we have been unable to contact him tonight," said Knight.

"No matter, we will take care of business without him. Here's how it's going to go, GENTLEMEN. We are going to sue you for everything under the sun and a couple of things I haven't made up yet. You will counter-offer and we will decide if we like it. Meanwhile, Mr. LaValliere is to be terminated for violation of your 'morals' clause, such as it is. And I mean just cut him. No compensation, no trade, no deal with anybody else."

Desmond woke up.

"You can't be serious. Marc is a valuable commodity; that would cost us a fortune."

LW was enjoying this.

"Do you see the newsies? This is no longer a local story. It's all over the country, and it's only," and he looked at his watch, "11:27 p.m. Local time. By the time the East Coast wakes up, AFTER the FBI incursion, the arrests, and the resulting shitstorm to the NFL, it will probably be an International incident. Hell, even Taylor Swift will be on page two or three. And you aren't our main target. Marc LaValliere will be a household name, and good people will be using it as a throw-down curse word. We are going to break him and take him to the cleaners. My researchers have already lined up how many, Clair??"

On cue, as if waiting for her big scene, Claire was scrolling her tablet. "We have 12 men, women, or couples. So far, sir. And we are still interviewing, looking at others. Women, men, and families that have been destroyed by Mr. LaValliere's antics and...Oh, way a minute, sir, 15 now and 4 more just contacted our staff back in St. Louis." She raised her head and smiled. "I think we're going to need more staff, sir."

Now, of course, that was all just smoke and mirrors, arranged beforehand. But with his reputation, and the fact that the Sharks had bailed his ass out before, the 'Smoke and Mirrors' had the consistency of concrete. LW continued.

"Then, the class action lawsuits start. Against you, him, the NFL, and the players union, for putting up with his BULLSHIT. Before long, Soccer will be more popular than you guys. Maybe even platform diving. And there are enough decent, family-oriented guys playing in the League that you guys will be looking for work elsewhere. So, in retrospect, we probably really don't need you anymore. GET LOST!!"

The crowd quieted as the facts set in, and the owners and their lawyers left.

Mike Lewandowski was now the on-sight commander and was marshaling his forces. Two snipers were up one in a light tower, the other on the wall, zeroing in on the front of the mansion. It was, after all, a hostage situation.

Maybe.

Don't know.

We'll see.

They were constantly calling Marc's phone, Linda's phone, and Marc's Lawyer's phone, and getting no response. They were hailing the house on P/A's and being ignored. Infrared and laser surveillance showed at least ten people in the downstairs main room. Music was playing, but the thick walls kept the sounds very low. Probably why no one heard the loudspeakers.

"All right," said Mike finally, "We can't raise anyone so we are going to breach. I have the warrants. Snipers, I want him alive. If you have to shoot, just incapacitate him. We have a vested interest in this 'person', and there may or may not be an innocent hostage on the premises. Hook up the winch and rip that gate down. Let's go, people, on my command."

They rolled out the winch from the assault vehicle secured it to the gate, and took up the slack. Mike checked in with everyone and nodded. "Let's go!"

There was a last attempt to raise the house, then the order was given, the truck backed up, and with a small tearing crash, the gate came down. The hostage units moved in and proceeded up the circular drive.

Meanwhile, the party was going full blast. Linda was the center of attraction, being spit-roasted by two individuals while a busty young blonde woman was ministering to Linda's vaginal area. Linda was groaning around the cock in her mouth as the guy spasmed and unloaded in her mouth, causing her to gag and spit it out, making her face and hair the recipient of the rest of his load. It only added to the copious amount of cum and secretions already covering her body. The second guy was thrusting into Linda's rectum and was about to achieve relief when somebody said that the 'press' was making a 'hell of a racket.' They didn't realize that the 'press' was actually the FBI and various law enforcement organizations.

Marc LaValliere extracted himself from the sexual embrace of two women and pulled up his pants.

"I'll take care of this. The fuckers have been warned before about bothering me!"

He strode to his study, opened his gun cabinet, pulled out a Mossberg 12 gauge pump, jacked in a round, and turned to the door. At this moment, the gate came off the hinges with a resounding crash, and the intruder alarm went off in his house. Linda spun around with a start, causing the excited individual who was just ejaculating in her ass to rip out and spray- eww, yuck, God knows what all over everyone. She grabbed for a small hand towel as Marc opened the door and rushed out, shouting to the crowd to 'Get the fuck off my property.'

"GUN!!", came the call.

"Take the shot. Remember, we want him alive!"

By this time, the HRT agents were about ten yards away and the first round from the 308 caliber sniper rifle took out Marc's right shoulder, shattered it, and caused him to drop the gun. The first four plastic riot rounds struck the now-prone asshole (didn't realize that was his name, did you? Not like he hadn't been called that before. Sorry.) One hit him in the abdomen, one in the left upper body, and the last two in his right knee. Well, it used to be his right knee. Now it was a mass of cartilage, bone, and useless muscle tissue. The screams and wailing brought several people out onto the porch, not the least of whom was Linda clad only in her stockings, garter belt, one blue 3 1/2 high heel, and her towel, just as the FBI arrived on the porch. Linda, covered, LITERALLY, in cum, pussy juice, and shit, screamed and fell to her knees, dropping her towel and covering Marc with her body.

Jim was not all that close to the action, but close enough to see his 'wife' throwing away their marriage. He screamed "LINDA!!" and sagged to his knees. Linda managed to tear her eyes from her stud muffin as FBI agents and EMTs pulled her off him and locked onto the beaten and defeated man scant yards away. She freaked. No other way to describe it. She lost it. She screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?? YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!!"

Sadly, he stared at her.

"Neither are you, bitch." He rose and turned, walking back towards LW and the silent crowd, a broken man. As he neared them, he started to convulse. Now, fortunately, or UN-fortunately, depending on who you're rooting for, ALL this was captured on body cameras, and news cameras, and was simultaneously going out live on National T.V. Among those seeing it all, in living color and 'stereo-phonic sound', as they say, were Linda's parents.

The judge was trying to arrange a lawyer for his daughter to 'take that son-of-a-bitch (Jim) to the cleaners' with a divorce. Now, he sat, stunned, seeing his daughter demeaning herself in public, even with having the 'naughty parts' blurred out by the network censors.

(Oh, come on, are you kidding me?).

He dropped the phone as his wife, a screaming shrew, threw glasses and nick-knacks at the plasma screen T.V. His life slowly slipped away. He would lose the next election, due to his supporting his 'whoring, home-wrecking daughter'. He was a broken man.

As Jim reached his support, Ginny Lewandowski stared at him and slowly lowered her microphone, holding her hand up to her cameraman, covering the lens. She was too decent a person to intrude. Jim approached LW, Joe, and Claire. As he got here, LW moved aside to let him pass, and Claire raised her hand.

O.K., so I'm a softie. Sue me.

Karma sniffed (Very uncharacteristic of her) and metaphysically reached out her hand to him, knowingly melding with Claire's hand touch to Jim's shoulder. The result was world-changing.

Claire/Karma touched Jim's shoulder and the resulting infusion of love and affection shocked them both. Jim froze and turned to stare at Claire. She, too, was shocked and couldn't remove her hand. Time took a break, and the two humans stared at each other.

Claire spoke first.

"Jim. I'm so sorry. No one deserves this. The woman is a fool. A stupid, stupid fool." She hesitated. "I would never, ever treat you like that." She slowly removed her hand, only to have it fall to rest firmly in his and squeeze his hand in hers. And she had only met him once, maybe twice before, briefly, with no interaction. What was going on?

Karma knew. It was an attempt to right a grievous wrong.

Jim, on the other hand, was awestruck. Claire was attractive but in a wholesome way. Not stunning, which Linda was, borderline. He had obviously 'hit over his weight' with her. But he had never had any indication that she was dissatisfied. Obviously, not the case. LW pushed past to the State Cop taking care of Linda, and told him that as her husband's lawyer, he would like a rape kit run on her, and all samples typed and sealed. Linda, meanwhile had snapped and was just staring into space, mumbling 'What have I done? What have I done?' She would be gone for a long time into her personal hell, reliving her night of debauchery.

Marc was cuffed, treated, mirandized, and hauled off in Federal custody. (Kidnapping. Remember?) Those charges would be dismissed eventually, replaced with firearms charges and drug charges, based on what was found in his home and car, and the car, on being impounded, was searched and the video and audio recordings of the backseat were recovered. Not just of Linda's seduction, but several months' worth of history, including Jack Schultz's wife Annie. All of which were very interesting to the authorities. Numerous arrests were made, mostly from drug charges. Marc's lawyer attempted to front for his client, but seeing how he was also caught using, and getting HIS ass reamed by a tall athletic wide receiver from the sharks, he had to get his own lawyer before he could represent Marc LaValliere. HIS wife was very interested in his extracurricular activities and she and his two kids would not be speaking to him in the near future. Linda also made internet fame. Two new 'emojis' were created to commemorate her 'shame'. Called 'lindas', one was the silhouette, in blue, of a statuesque woman in profile, wearing a long dress. The other was a picture of a woman on her back, facing out looking at you with a 'come hither look', with her legs in the air spread in a 'V', inviting, well, you know. It was only available for about a month before it was removed. The first is still in use today. It does NOT have a nice connotation.

Epilogue

O.K., this has gone on long enough. The lawsuits were against everyone. As a lot of people will say, they won't amount to a hill of beans. True, against the big organizations, but as LW noted, the court of public opinion was brutal.

The Shark's market value plummeted. Endorsements, deals, and all sorts of niceties dried up overnight, as did church, charitable and social liaisons. The club settled about ten lawsuits before cutting Marc La Valliere loose unconditionally. He was not so lucky. His legal problems resulted in him declaring bankruptcy, but not before he was sentenced to five years, of probation, for drug charges. The lawsuits didn't force his bankruptcy, though. It was his legal bills. Jim, one of the first to sue, got minimal from him. But Jack and his wife managed to salvage their marriage when it came out that he had drugged Annie at the bar and in his car. She immediately had an emotional collapse and became a confirmed non-drinker.

Marc never played another play. He became a recluse and slowly lost all sense of purpose-not that he ever had any before. He was found, dead, in an alley.

No, not beaten to death, or castrated, or shot, stabbed, strangled, poisoned, or in any way brutalized. He died of hypothermia. Alone, abandoned, broken, like left so many individuals, males, females, and family units--tough shit.