Finding an Editor Ch. 03

"God, this is wild! Honey, you might want...Oh Fuck!" It had come back on. He must have put it on random. I hoped what I felt was the highest setting because it was damned intense. Without a word he picked up a six inch vibrator and slid it home easily. Besides the lube I had become quite wet naturally.

I was writhing on the bed, almost babbling, when he slid another slender vibe up my butt. I screamed repeatedly, until he grabbed my hair and put a ball gag in my mouth. He watched, grinning, nibbling on the finger foods, for at least fifteen minutes.

Finally he shut everything down and removed them, all but the ball gag. I lay in an exhausted, sweaty heap as he stroked my body. I jumped again when he pinched one of my overly stimulated nipples, and quivered as he slowly kissed his way from my ears to my toes, deliberately missing the erotic zones. By the time he kissed his way back up I was dripping again.

He casually licked and nibbled his way to two massive orgasms from me, sliding the small vibe back into my butt. The next morning I had strap marks on my wrists and ankles from the strain I put on them. It made me smile.

He removed the ball gag, shoving a tongue down my throat before I could speak. When he finally pulled back he asked casually, "So, my little Plum, which hole would you liked filled?"

I looked up at him with lust filled eyes.

"All of them, baby. Repeatedly."

It must have been the right answer, because that's just what he did. He confessed the next morning he had gotten a sample pack of the little blue pill, just in case he needed it. I just love modern medicine, don't you?

...

We came back home, sated, refreshed, and happier than we'd been in a long time. I had another week off and we were almost always together. We even locked the door to his office at the studio and christened the desk.

I was staggered by the amount of money we had. Will was doing an outstanding job. He laughed when he went over it.

"You know, I was really glad when Benny started the film studio, you guys needed something to show a loss. But, damn it, now you're making more money off it than your writing. I suggest you set up a charity or something, to ease your tax burden."

Our hometown and the state was giving us an enormous tax break where the studio was concerned.

Of course, we were responsible for eighty nine full time jobs, hundreds of part time jobs when you factor in the extras, kept two restaurants going full time furnishing food services, and almost every county and city cop worked for us part time giving us security services. The secondary service jobs included almost every business around, one way or another. In a time when most places were still trying to recover from the recession, our area was booming.

We didn't go cheap either, paying top wages to everyone concerned. I laughed when Benny said he felt like we were buying loyalty.

"Of course we are, honey. It's how business works, or at least how it used to. Pay top wages, provide good benefits and a good work environment, and you get the cream of the crop."

We got heavily involved in the town and county, paying for bulletproof vests and lapel cameras for the local police and sheriff department. We asked the county for a branch of the fire department to be located near the studio, and funded it, down to the building and new equipment.

We appointed one of his sons, Greg, and one of my daughters, Amy, to head our charitable and special projects department. They enjoyed it for awhile, but quickly became tired of people asking them for things. One man put in a proposal that we remodel his house and landscape his yard, because it was the first one people saw coming into town on our major highway, and we needed to give a good impression. They politely made a counter offer. They'd buy his house at fair market value and tear it down, turning it into a garden for public enjoyment. He left the meeting very angry.

I lost Hilda as an assistant. She came to us with a proposal. Our local economy was booming. People were moving here for the jobs and the excellent school system. That was one of Benny's pet projects. We had donated so much to the local school system it was being lauded as the best in the state. When Whitney, my other daughter, couldn't get a job as a school teacher locally because of budget cuts, he stepped in and personally made up the shortfall. He also had Amy and Greg make sure that two to four tractor trailer loads of school supplies be delivered to every school, depending on size. No teacher in the system had to go into their own pocket anymore for pencils, paper, etc., unless they wanted something special. He also bought a pad and laptop for every junior and senior high school student, twenty three hundred total. The teachers got the deluxe models, and he paid for the service contracts plus the internet access to make it all work. It made textbooks obsolete, and the county actually donated them to another school system.

Hilda gave us a presentation with facts and figures.

"The housing market is strained, making houses and apartments hard to get and ridiculously expensive. Here's what I think you guys should do."

She laid out a plan for three ten floor apartment buildings, one hundred twenty two and three bed room apartments in each. She had another, smaller one drawn up with one bedroom and studio apartments for singles and childless couples. Plus two housing developments, sixty in one, forty in another. Also, she had plans for a small shopping mall centrally located between them all, plus two parks, one with ball fields.

We sat back stunned.

"What does all this have to do with us?" I asked, when I got my breath back.

She looked at me like I was a child.

"Everything. You're the largest employer, so your employees, and indirectly you, will benefit. Plus, you're the richest people in the area, you have the money, or can at least leverage the financing, to go ahead. If you don't, someone else will, and who knows what they'll do. Urban sprawl could devastate us, developments appearing haphazardly, land prices will skyrocket, schools will become overcrowded. At least this way, even if we can't control it, we can lessen the impact."

We thought about it, looked at the numbers, ran it by Will and Grace. Will thought it was a great idea, Grace wasn't so sure.

"You're turning it into a company town. Sure that's a good idea? What if your tax breaks disappear? Would you pack up and leave? Do you really want that much power over the local community?"

Benny was upset.

"I don't want any power over the community. I want a nice, clean, safe hometown. Is that wrong?"

Grace leaned over and took his hand. "No Benny, it isn't. I just want you to know there would be a certain amount of backlash. People admire success, glad to see a hometown boy make good. But they don't like too much success, it's just human nature. It really is a good idea, will probably be a real moneymaker. Just be careful, all right?"

Benny promised he would think about it. Three days later he called Hilda and gave her the go ahead, with a few conditions.

"We only use local contractors and suppliers. It's their home too. Plus, get a few of the most reputable real estate companies and offer them a small percentage of the projects, if they can swing it. I want as many locals as possible vested in this."

"Another thing. I want you to bring in Jim and Sarah. Jim was a project manager with his old construction firm, until they went under. He'll know pretty quick if something isn't right. Start out slow, don't really broadcast it. And run it by the city and county in closed sessions if you can. If they're not on board, we're dead in the water before we start."

...

I was amazed at the reaction once our plans were approved and made public. The backlash Grace predicted came with a vengeance. They even had a website, 'Say No To Henson City'.

It upset Benny no end. He tried not to show it, but every one close to him could tell. He actually attended a county commission meeting, advertising in advance he would be there. They had to move it to the municipal auditorium to hold the crowd.

Most of the commissioners were happy with the way things were going, the county was solvent, the economy was excellent, unemployment was under three per cent, the best in the state. Two were opposed to almost anything Benny wanted to accomplish, one because he sensed the undercurrent of jealousy from the few who opposed change, mostly former movers and shakers usurped by his popularity and wanted to exploit it, one because he hated Benny with a passion beyond words.

It was Tom, current husband of his exwife, the man she'd cheated with while they were still married, the man she'd left him for, 'trading up' for the promise of a better lifestyle. There had been snide comments, ill concealed disrespect before Benny started writing and became successful beyond anything he'd ever even dreamed about.

I'd deposited some money in his bank just after Benny's career took off, a tiny percentage of what we had now. Took great pleasure in making Mariam do the paperwork. I did it with the express intent of rubbing their faces in the fact that they would never, ever, be in his league. The bank was mostly owned and controlled by Tom's family.

I never put another dime in, and when a new credit union opened in town, offering far more services at greatly reduced rates, the bank suffered a significant loss of business. The fact that we were one of the major backers, and put most of our liquid assets with them to get it up and running was not lost on Tom and Mariam.

To be honest, by the time the credit union was established, we had pretty much forgotten about them. They hadn't forgotten us, not by a long shot.

...

The meeting got pretty hot right off the bat. Before Benny could explain his position, Tom and the other commissioner attacked

"This is ridiculous!," screamed Tom. "Why should we kowtow to this arrogant jerk? Does money make you God?"

It was all I could do not to remind him that he must have thought so while he was seducing Miriam, dangling a more affluent lifestyle in front of the shallow bitch. Or how they had belittled him every chance they got. How does it feel to be at the bottom of the food chain, bitch?

I held my tongue while he spoke, following the script our lawyers and publicists had dictated,

"Excuse me Tom, but how have I been arrogant? I'm still Benny, still live here, still go to the same diners and restaurants as everyone else. I was just blessed to be able to accumulate a lot of money.

But I don't use it to make people bow to my whims. I don't put strings on anything I do. I give a lot back to this county, because in many instances they need it. In return I ask for absolutely nothing, except maybe a thank you once in a while.

Like I said, I live here. I'll live here until I die. This is my home. Don't you want to improve the community? Doesn't your bank make loans everyday for new houses and businesses? Don't you think these things make it a better place to live? In the end, I'm doing the same as you're doing, investing in the future. Maybe I do it on a different level, but isn't the goal the same?"

"As far as these building plans go, even you will admit new housing is needed, and I haven't seen anyone else try to address it. Do we really want these people to live somewhere else, and commute to work here? But I tell you what, why don't you put it to a public vote right now? I ask every commissioner here to vote their conscience. Don't worry about whether it's good for Benny, worry about whether it's good for the county. I'll respect your decision either way."

Of course, the commissioners delayed the vote, being savvy enough to let everyone air their opinion. The vote was already a foregone conclusion, nine of the twelve commissioners were already on board. In the end, the vote was ten to two. You can guess who voted against. Tom and the other commissioner left in a rage.

Benny said nothing , but I knew he was hurt just a little from all the negativity. I tried my best to love the pain away. I think I did, a little.

Two days later I was off, on the final leg of my book tour, three months, including stops in Mexico and Canada.

...

The book had legs. Seven months later and it was still near the top. Beth was pushing me for a sequel, but I really wasn't sure. I was a guest on Ellen, and she chided me for not bringing Benny, then asked if our production company was going to make the movie.

"I don't know if anyone will film it as it is. It has so much sex in it the best rating it could ever get would be a an X."

"What about the other erotic book that was just recently made? It's very successful. Couldn't you have your own variation on a color scheme with this. Plum colored, perhaps?"

The way she said it made everyone laugh.

"I have to say, Ellen, that I've never read the book. I may or may not see the movie when it comes out on DVD. But it was very successful, so I congratulate the writer. I just don't want to see my book as a movie."

I paused. "That being said, of course our company has the film rights. Maybe one day down the road, who knows?"

We talked a little more about the production company, what Benny and I had planned for the future. I for one planned on going back to my happy little life, hoping to get Benny to at least semi retire.

Six more weeks, I thought to myself. Six more weeks until the tour was over and I could go back to my real life. I couldn't wait.

The pressure was getting to me. The constant travel was getting tedious, the sameness of hotel rooms and book stores wearing me down. I had stopped exercising, watched television until my mind was mush, and drank more.

My new assistant seemed to understand. My first, the perky one, had left to get married, to my private relief. Bonita was just past thirty, self assured, ambitious, and ruthless in her drive to advance. She saw me as a step up.

Mark disliked her instantly. He told me much later she reminded him of several of the more successful criminals he'd encountered in his law enforcement career.

"Be careful, Miz Bonnie," he said in that soft Southern drawl, "I think Bonita is a little too worried about what Bonita wants to keep your best interests at heart."

I should have listened, but in retrospect I'd like to think I was still a good person who wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

...

Well, turns out she wasn't a good person.

I caught her trying to broker a deal with another publisher to get my next book in exchange for a better job and a little cash bonus. The drawbacks to the plan was that it was done without my knowledge or consent, I had already decided my writing career was over, and on the off chance I did decide to do another book, I was completely loyal to my friend and her publishing house.

The book tour was over and I was finally going home. I hadn't talked to Benny in six days. I had been exhausted, distracted, pissed over having to handle the Bonita situation, so to my shame I never thought about calling him. In retrospect, I should have realized something was off because we always talked at least once a day.

Bonita didn't take her termination very well, and when what she tried to do came out, people were hesitant to hire her. She of course blamed me for her demise, mentally vowing vengeance while apologizing to me for the 'misunderstanding'.

I was home! Finally. I called Benny twice but it went to voice mail, which I didn't find odd because he often switched off his phone while in meetings. I waved to the security guards stationed at the entrance to our compound. I didn't know them, but the security company changed them pretty often, to avoid efforts from reporters and any one else with an agenda to tempt them. We had cameras covering every portion of our house and yard, as well as those of our family. When they were home, the interior cameras went offline, and on request, some of the exterior ones, for privacy. It was a sad comment on our lives, being rich and famous wasn't as much fun as one would think. We also had two guards that patrolled the grounds. There had been another attempt at a kidnapping, one of the grandchildren, and now we had guards deliver and pick all of them up from school.

...

I walked into the house, dropping my bags and sighing with relief. I still missed our little house, but this new one had its' advantages. To start with, it was huge. We tended to have the grandchildren stay over regularly, and now that the older ones were preteen and teens, they appreciated the pool more, especially the waterfall and wave options. Benny didn't really like to spend money on himself, but he was relentless when it came to spoiling the grandkids. It also contained a state of the art outdoor kitchen, with gadgets most people didn't have in their regular kitchens. Off to the side, in a place of honor, Benny kept his old cooker, a converted oil drum that had seen decades of service. Every three months or so he'd cook. I don't know how word got out, but we'd always end up with a houseful of guests. Mike Hogue would show up from time to time, frolic with the children, eat until I thought he'd explode, and relax, often with different women, all exotic and beautiful, on his arm. Nothing seemed serious, though, rumor had it he was engaged at one time and she broke his heart.

Sometimes Wiley and Moira Patterson would show up with their brood of redheaded girls and the auburn haired little boy. We had an official guest house, but his younger kids and ours would drop wherever they got sleepy. Most often than not, we'd start a fire in the pit, and they'd break out the guitars. I'd sit back and marvel as two of the top entertainers in the world would sing silly songs with the kids. Our grandchildren would have tales to tell their children when they got older.

Their oldest girl was planning on pursuing film as a career, and Benny had promised her an internship when she was old enough. We assured Moira and Wiley she would be taken care of, even offered to let her live with us. This thrilled the child no end. They promised they'd think about it, winking when she wasn't looking.

I just stood, soaking it all in. I was home!

Benny for some reason still wasn't answering his phone. I shrugged, hoping he would be home soon.

Knowing I was alone, I slipped off my clothes and dove into the pool, half hoping Benny would come home and take advantage of the situation. After a few laps, I got out, toweled off, and opened the bar, getting out the ingredients for a pitcher of margaritas. It got later, Benny still wasn't home, and I slowly got drunk. When the first pitcher ran out, I made another, spilling things everywhere, putting way too much alcohol into the mix. I passed out, mildly pissed at Benny for not being there.

...

Bonita Smith had neither forgiven or forgotten her dismissal. Her little plan backfired, and she found herself unemployed with little chance of getting another job in her field. Publishers had a low tolerance for poachers, and her name was mud as far as the mainstream was concerned.

Taking stock, she admitted to herself she was a sociopath, which of course, being true to her nature, didn't bother her at all. She became obsessed with the Hensons, vowing retribution. Using the last of her money, she traveled to her hometown.

She was amazed when she got to the compound and found she was still on the official visitor list. A car had followed her down the long private drive, and she had paid it no attention. The new security guard, thinking they were together, waved them through.

...

Tom, Marion, and their lawyer Bob, found themselves in an awkward position. The bank was losing business at an alarming rate to the new savings and loan. Things were not looking good. To top it off, the Hensons still had a lot of assets at the bank, parked there for easy disbursement as they built the studio. Now, with the new savings and loan starting up, they had decided to move everything there. Tom was pretty sure Benny and Bonnie didn't realize he still had almost twenty million in different accounts still at his bank. It could hurt them very badly if it was gone.