Jail Bird Pt. 04

"Take it off; I want to see how much your pussy enjoys your brother's cock."

"Like this, Max, does your slutty, sisterly pussy look good to you, Master, as it just swallows it all up?" Carol asked, leaning forward all so Max could watch it disappearing into her ever-so-happy cunt. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she creamed all over his cock, not for the first time or the last. "Master, please, will you play with my tits? I know they're small, yet they want to feel your hands on them?" she pleaded. "Thank you, Master," Carol moaned when Max was not gentle in his fondling, just the way she liked it.

How her pussy was throbbing at how rough he was to her little peach. She was fucking elated! Her cheeks blushed as she brushed strands of her brown hair behind her ear as Max watched her cook the hamburger for their spaghetti dinner for the evening. Answering his questions when he had them, very pleased that he was allowing her to do this for him. She wondered if he would take her again before she had to leave for the night. She didn't care what holes he used, where he pumped his cum into her or on her. All she really wanted was to feel her Master's cock in her hands, mouth, pussy, and/or ass. Dropping enough noodles to feed the both of them into the boiling pot. Asking him where he kept his plates; humming as she went about setting the table for them.

Once their dinner was over, Max took her once again. Bending her over his dining table, and thrusting his cock into her ass. Making her howl in bliss as her body brought the ultimate pleasure to her Master. He used every part of her body before Max's hunger was sated, and she had a belly, pussy, and ass filled with his cum.

"Max? May I use your shower before I go home?"

"Towels are in that closet," Max said, panting for breath as he pointed at it.

"Maybe, when I have a day off, you'll let me spend the night with you, and you can use me all night long, Master?" Carol uttered in a sweet tone as she walked towards his bathroom. Knowing she could get used to being within this home of his. She knew he wasn't using all the rooms on the third floor. Given how both floors combined encompassed around forty thousand square feet, just like the two floors below him had the almost identical layout. She didn't need a big room; she wouldn't be sleeping there anyway. No. That would just be to store her belongings; she knew where she would be. In his bed, riding, sucking, being fucked to the point of bow-leggedness, and she would do it with a fucking smile too! It was the best dick she's had in years! However, first, she needed to get Max comfortable having her back in his life. Not as his sister, no, she didn't think that would ever be possible; but as his live-in slut to take care of his manly needs in whatever way he wanted. Plus, living in a place as big as one of the mega-mansions didn't hurt either!

"Before I go, I didn't want to give it to you so early and ruin your mood," Carol said, handing Max the letter their mother had written to him. "I told Mom I would watch you read it," she spoke when he gave her a look.

"Alright, I read it," balling it up, "doesn't change a thing," Max grumbled, tossing it towards the waste bin, falling short a few feet. His eyes following after his sister as she walked over to it. Watching how she smoothed it out and refold it, and placed it in the nightstand that sat on the left side of his bed.

"I'm not saying you'll hate yourself for throwing it away but give it some time and read it again. I know what they... what we said hurt you very deeply, Max. I get that; I really do. Just think on it before you toss it away; after all, they are the only parents we're ever going to have," Carol said before turning and walking towards the stairs. "Thank you for letting me come over and have dinner with you; I really enjoyed it. Love the place, Max! Have a good night," she cooed sweetly, waving to him as she walked down the stairs. Texting their mother as she saw herself out, hearing Max lagging behind her to lock the door behind her. Wondering if he'll make her a key so he didn't need to transverse the three flights of stairs. Knowing she would be sore in the morning, but she didn't care, it was worth it, in her mind, as she slid into her car and headed for home.

******

Monday, ten am that morning...

While Max was in the kitchen of Delvin's and Brandy's restaurant, learning how to cook, the process server company that Decan had hired to serve out the lawsuits for slander, libel, and defamation of Max's character, fanned out in the cities that the national news headquarters were located in, such as ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN, and all the talk shows that made a buck off Maximillian Daysome's good name. Along with every newspaper company, local and national, and the local news stations within the city. The publishing house that sold over ten million copies of the True Crime book: The Teenage Strangler?! They, too, were served along with a cease and desist order to stop all distributing and printing of the inflammatory book that had made the author of it very rich. They were also to recall every book that was still on the shelves of every book store and online seller at a cost to them. Max was not going to let them get away with it. He didn't care if he won; the publicity itself was enough to ruin them. It wasn't his fault if they went out of business when no one would ever be able to trust their word if they couldn't do the simplest of investigative reporting.

However, at that moment, on the Sony studio lot, tucked in the alley behind the Studio four building. Where the movie that was based on Soma Pham's book was currently under production, stood in the camper the Studio had provided for her, so she could give the director the authentic feel to the movie, in front of her coffee pot inhaling the scent of her first cup of the morning. Her laptop was sitting on her desk, open and already three chapters in for the newest book she was writing. Soma knew her life was perfect at that moment. Four-time bestseller, millions of copies sold, and a very, very large nest egg to grow old on. How little did Soma know her life was about to come crashing down in three, two, one...

Soma turned her head as a quick rasp on the door of the camper rang out within it. Setting her mug down, tying her robe closed as her blonde hair bounced against her back. Wondering who it could be, praying it was the cute star of the movie. She could use a good romp to get the juices flowing. She was not expecting to find a cute redhead half her age standing at the bottom of the extendable steps.

"Are you Ms. Soma Pham?" the woman asked.

"Yes, who's asking?" Soma asked, looking oddly down at the brown envelope. Looking up when she heard the sound of a camera going off.

"You've been served," she said before walking off.

"Served?! Served with what?!" Soma screamed out.

"I don't know, ma'am, I just deliver them." Soma heard her say before watching the woman talk to one of the crew members and seeing her heading off in the direction the man pointed.

Looking back down at the envelope, wondering what her ex-husband was scheming. Soma knew he couldn't do a damn thing; after all, she's been happily divorced for the past three years. Wondering if this was just another ploy of his to wrangle money out of her and waste hers in her lawyer billing her for the hours it would take to make the fool go away.

"Slander! Libel! Defamation of character against one Maximillian Daysome! What the fuck!" Soma screamed out. She almost fainted when she saw how much he was suing her for. A whole thirty million, the amount she had made from the book she had written about him. "No, no, no! This can't be fucking happening! He's in fucking prison!" she cursed at the papers in her hand. Stomping over to her computer, she was not about to be hoodwinked by some damn rapist/murderer!

"Oh, fuck me," Soma groaned as she read the headline of The Bellingham Herald in Seattle, Washington. She knew the moment she read the words: falsely accused and innocent man. She was fucking toast! All she could do now was damage control and try to whittle down the amount Max was demanding. Her face fell into her hands when her publishing house had told her they were being ordered by the court to recall every book they had unsold and refund the ones that were already sold. Also, telling her that her contract for the next four books they had just signed her to would be suspended while they went over every book she had written for them with a fine-tooth comb. If they found anything factually wrong, they threatened to drop her immediately from the firm due to how much it would cost them to recall every book and offer refunds to the owners of the said inflammatory book.

Soma had forewent her coffee and went straight for her scotch after getting off the phone with her lawyer. Giving her the name of the lawyer that was representing Max in his litigation against her. Turning her head when the director stuck his head into the camper when he knocked on the side of it.

"The Studio is shutting us down and stopping all production of the movie while they deal with the lawsuit the subject of your book has just filed against them. So I'm going to need you to leave the property by the end of the day."

Soma couldn't feel any worse as she simply nodded. "I'll be gone in two," she said; she didn't have much to pack; she always traveled light when she was working on-location. It was an old habit she had picked up when she was a reporter for the New York Times.

"Sorry, Soma, it wasn't my call."

"I understand; I wasn't expecting my morning to turn to crap either," Soma sighed, pressing the cold glass against her forehead. Wondering if she would have to pay back the money the studio had paid for the movie rights to the book.

"I know you'll land on your feet, Soma. Again, I am sorry."

"As am I, as am I," Soma muttered low before draining the last of her scotch and wincing as it burned her throat. Shame burned her skin as she slinked off the studio lot. Feeling the eyes of everyone on her as she fled L.A. all together back to her home in Montana. Hoping she could salvage something out of the clusterfuck that has become her morning.

To Be Continued...