Realtor Revenge Pt. 03

This is the third chapter of Realtor Revenge which is the sequel to Real Estate Games. If you are new to the series, I suggest you start with Part 1 of Real Estate Games.

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Realtor Revenge

Chapter 3

The winch and the farmhouse

Anybody who is successful in business or politics has a skeleton or two hidden in their closet. Councilman Andrew Rowan was no exception. My task was to find the closet... or in his case, the un-marked grave of Betty Sue Rowan, his second wife.

Two years ago, it was common knowledge that Andrew and Betty Sue Rowan were well down the road towards a divorce. If there ever was any love in their three-year marriage, it evaporated before the wedding reception champagne went flat. She was his trophy wife and he was her retirement plan. Not that Rowan was an immensely wealthy man, but he did have a few million scattered about town in different investments.

Betty Sue's pre-nuptial agreement ensured she would get half of whatever Andrew was worth if they were to part ways. Additionally, if Betty Sue pre-deceased her husband, Betty Sue's children from a previous marriage would receive the money originally earmarked for their mother.

"This prenup guarantees either you or your kids will eventually get half of the son-of-a-bitch's money... no matter what happens," Betty Sue's lawyer told her on the day of her wedding.

The lawyer was wrong... dead wrong. Because nowhere in the legal document was any mention of who got the money if Betty Sue was abducted by aliens.

Now nobody believed that a flying saucer hovered over the Rowan residence and beamed Betty Sue's naked body out of her hot tub so she could be used for breeding on planet Xorqy... but she did disappear ten days before their divorce court date and had not been heard from since.

Everybody in Merryville knew Betty Sue was dead. She was not the type of woman to walk away from a multi-million-dollar payday.

Six months after Betty Sue went missing, the same lawyer that wrote the supposedly ironclad prenup explained the resulting legal situation to Betty Sue's children.

"Unless you can find your mother's body it will be ten years before you can petition the court to pronounce her legally dead and then another ten years before the court will declare her dead."

"We have to wait twenty years before we get our inheritance?" the eldest of the kids asked.

"Exactly. And even then, I wouldn't count on getting much," the lawyer said. "By the time twenty years pass, your step-father will have hidden most of his fortune in untouchable off-shore accounts."

Nobody thought Andrew Rowan killed his wife. He was enjoying a two-week Mediterranean cruise, with several hundred witnesses, when Betty Sue disappeared. But nobody thought the man was innocent either. It was common knowledge that Rowan had someone kill his wife and then hide the body. And anybody who had lived in Merryville for more than a couple of decades knew who Rowan hired.

Jonas Bucher and Andrew Rowan were best friends from Kindergarten through the twelfth grade. After high school, while Rowan attended Penn State, Jonas spent four years in the state pen for robbery and aggravated assault. Despite their different career choices, the two men continued to enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship. Rowan frequently bailed Jonas out of jail and hired expensive lawyers to keep him out... all in exchange for the occasional errand. Errands that were usually accomplished between the hours of midnight and four a.m.

After Betty Sue went missing, Jonas was questioned numerous times by the Merryville police department -- always accompanied by Rowan's lawyer. But despite the many times the police asked the question -- "Did you kill Betty Sue Rowan" -- Jonas' answer was always "No, I was at home that night... all by myself."

Jonas had no alibi; the police had no body. It was a stalemate. A cold case that would remain unsolved... which was exactly what Councilman Andrew Rowan wanted.

Now I didn't care if Jonas got away with Betty Sue's murder and I didn't care if Betty Sue's children got their inheritance... never liked the woman or her spoiled rotten kids. But I did need Rowan's support in getting rid of Janis Moorehead. So, I paid Jonas Bucher a visit.

I know. A gorgeous, single woman like myself should be careful about who I associate with. But even though Jonas was more than twice my size and a suspected murderer, I wasn't concerned. I have always been in control of the men in my life and Jonas would be no exception.

Jonas lived in an old farmhouse fifteen miles west of town. Considering its age, the house was in surprisingly good shape and not too shabbily decorated. I especially liked what someone had done with the master bedroom. An antique dresser, vanity and chair lined the walls. A massive four poster bed lay directly under an exposed beam ceiling.

I won't go into detail describing how Jonas found himself naked, with each arm and leg tied to opposite corners of the bed. Suffice it to say that partially bared breasts -- with the hint of more -- had made more than one man do things he would later regret.

Sitting on the side of the bed, I stroked the length of Jonas's cock with my hand. He responded almost immediately, giving me something sufficiently long and stiff to work with.

"Before I continue," I told my captive. "I'd like you to tell me something."

"Whatever you want," he said.

"Tell me where you buried Betty Sue Rowan."

Jonas flinched and then tried to pull away from his restraints.

"Is that what this is all about?"

"Don't worry, I'm not looking to get you into any sort of trouble. Consider this a simple business transaction. I need Betty Sue's body and you know where it is. You tell me and we continue what we've been doing."

"I already told the police, and the FBI, and a shitload of lawyers. I didn't have anything to do with Betty Sue's disappearance," Jonas said. "What makes you think I'll tell you anything different?"

"That's what I hoped you'd say."

I was using the classic carrot and stick interrogation technique. The carrot was a promise of sexual gratification. Not that I thought Jonas would immediately tell me his darkest secret in return for a simple hand job. I was actually hoping he wouldn't. Because the stick I had in mind was something I'd been wanting to use for a long time... and this was my chance.

I released my grip on Jonas' rapidly shriveling penis, got off the bed and started towards the bedroom door.

"Are you going to leave me tied to this bed?" he asked.

"Sit tight, I'll be right back."

I took my time walking down the creaky stairs, opened the front door and retrieved a tool bag from my car. When I returned to the bedroom, Jonas was doing the best he could to muster a tough guy expression.

The first thing out of the tool bag was a cordless power drill.

"What in hell do you plan to do with that?" Jonas yelled.

Not wanting to spoil the surprise, I didn't answer.

With drill in hand, I climbed back up on the bed and stood with my feet straddling Jonas' hips. Despite what the man thought, I didn't drill a hole in his chest, knee, or shoulder. Instead, I reached over my head and drilled a pilot hole into a sturdy ceiling beam.

Once that was done, I returned to the tool bag and extracted a screw-in hook rated to hold at least three-hundred pounds.

Standing back on the bed again, I reached up and I twisted the hook into the pilot hole until it was secure. I don't consider myself a wimp, but I'm not an overly strong woman either. So, it took me a minute to accomplish my task. Which gave Jonas sixty seconds to look up my dress with a clear view of my thong covered pussy and nearly naked ass.

Once the ceiling hook was in place, I squatted over Jonas and rubbed my crotch against his for just a second or so... not wanting to lose the mood.

Next, I drilled another pilot hole about half-way up one of the bed posts and installed another hook.

The last item out of the tool bag was a small, hand operated winch with a length of thin cotton rope looped around the spool. I secured the winch to the lower hook and then climbed back on the bed to thread the rope through the upper hook, leaving enough slack so the last foot of rope coiled on Jonas' belly button. The very end of the rope was fashioned into a loop that would tighten around whatever it held... like a cowboy's lasso or a noose with a slip knot.

With my interrogation tool in place, it was time to continue the interview.

"Is it warm in here?" I asked Jonas.

He didn't answer. In fact, he hadn't said a word since I started my project. But he also hadn't taken his glaring eyes off of me. Not sure if he was enjoying the view or trying to figure out what I was doing.

"Well, maybe it's just me, but I'm feeling a little flush. And I've still got a lot of work to do which will just make me even hotter. Hopefully you won't mind if I make myself comfortable."

Jonas stared as I slipped out of my dress, folded the fabric and draped it over the dresser.

My bra was next. I didn't do the shy girl thing... I didn't turn my back. Instead, I stood directly next to his head, released the clasp and let the ladies hang free. Before my brassiere joined the dress, I pressed each D cup into his face so he could taste and smell the soft fabric that, just seconds before, held my assets.

Deciding to leave my thong in place, at least for the time being, I climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between his spread-eagled legs. Leaning forward, with my hands resting on his thighs, I gave his cock just the slightest taste of my tongue. Not a full-length lick, just a touch between my tip and his.

Sitting back on my haunches I gently massaged my breasts and watched as his erection involuntarily grew.

"I bet you'd love to slide your inches between these girls," I said as I pressed my tits together. "You can make that happen. Tell me where Betty Sue is, and I'll wrap these babies around your cock for as long as you can hold out."

"I already told you. I don't know where she is."

"Maybe if I give you a little preview of what could be, your memory will improve."

I leaned a bit further forward, gave his dick a couple of quick hand strokes and then placed it between my boobs.

"Where is she Jonas. Where is Betty Sue?"

"I uh... I don't know. Andy said she run off with somebody. Maybe you should go ask him."

Jonas was starting to sweat, and I was starting to smile. This was going to be fun.

With my tits still surrounding his cock, I traced my hand up his belly to retrieve the noose. The loop made a three to four-inch circle, certainly large enough to slip over his dick, slide down its length and then over his balls. And I had to admit, the man did have good sized balls. Once the noose was resting on the crotch side of his scrotum, I slowly pulled it tight.

Jonas squirmed as I sat upright. Keeping tension on the noose, I scooted over to the winch and turned the handle until the rope was taut. From that point, I could release the winch handle, letting the ratchet maintain tension, while I dealt with Jonas' lack of cooperation.

"Okay, let's not talk about where she is for a few minutes. Instead, let's discuss how she died. Did you do it in her house? A bullet in the head perhaps? Or maybe a knife in the back. No, that wouldn't be smart. Then you'd have to clean up all the blood. The smart man would kidnap her and then do the dirty deed someplace else. Someplace safe."

I gave the winch a slight turn... a couple clicks on the ratchet, nothing more... just a slight increase in tension. Jonas raised his hips to take pressure off his lassoed cock and balls.

"Is that how it happened? You broke into her house in the middle of the night and forced her into a car at gunpoint? Or did you chloroform her? Tied up her comatose body and plunked her in the bed of your truck, covered by a dirty tarp."

Two more clicks on the ratchet. Another pound of tension on the rope. Jonas' eyes dilated. A slight groan escaped his lips.

"Either way, my guess is you brought her back here. This is the perfect place for a murder. Nobody for miles around. She could scream all night and only disturb the wildlife.

Click, click, click went the ratchet. Jonas started to sweat. I also felt a comfortable warmth, despite my lack of clothes.

"Betty Sue was a good-looking woman, even for her age. I bet you took full advantage of that. After all, who would know? Rowan told you to make her disappear, permanently. Why not give her one last fuck? Hell, she might even enjoy it... at least the first time."

I stood on the bed and slowly lowered myself onto him... rubbing my pussy along the rope... encasing his still rigid cock between my thighs.

"Is that what you did Jonas? Did you tie her to this bed, just like you're tied now?"

Sitting on his thighs forced his body deeper into the mattress, pulling the noose around his cock and nuts even tighter.

"How many times did you fuck her Jonas? Did you violate every one of her holes? Did you stick it in her ass and then make her blow you?"

I stood, temporarily lessening the rope tension, until I turned the handle a few more clicks.

"I bet she begged you to stop. She probably promised you everything she had. Her money. Her body. Even her daughter. Anything to make the pain go away."

Both his cock and balls were turning red and starting to swell. Surprisingly, he was still as hard as a rock. Not wanting him to go limp, I gave the crank another turn.

"Tell me Jonas. At what point did she quit begging you to stop abusing her and ask you to kill her? Was it after your dick went soft and you started beating her?"

Jonas arched his back, trying to raise his hips to release the tension on his crotch. I gave the crank another turn and fetched another tool out of my bag.

The whip felt good in my hand. The handle was surprisingly similar in length and girth to that of the cock currently restrained on the bed in front of me. Three lengths of leather extended from the handle; each leather strip cut at an angle at the end to ensure more of a bite when hitting the skin.

I flicked it across Jonas' stomach in an exploratory swing. He yelped in response, which I thought a bit much considering I barely left a mark.

"I want to thank you Jonas. It's not often a girl gets to live out one of her fantasies."

The next blow was to his knees. A little harder than the last. Jonas flinched but otherwise didn't respond. Which was fine with me. The last thing I wanted was the man to give in too early. I knew he would eventually break, but I might as well enjoy the exercise until he did.

"Just thinking about whipping the skin off an obstinate man makes my pussy wet."

The next strike was midway up his thighs, this one hard enough to draw the first drop of blood. I don't know if it was the exercise or something else, but my heart was pounding, and a familiar flush came over my body.

"And I'm sure Councilman Rowan appreciates your loyalty, even though he will never hear of your bravado."

I positioned myself at the foot of the bed and took aim between his spread-eagled legs. I was hoping to just graze the inside of his thighs but, this being the first time I'd ever whipped a man, my aim was slightly off. I only nicked one of his balls, but from the way he reacted, you'd thought I cut it off.

"You fucking bitch," he screamed. "What do you want?"

I hit him again. Same place. His yelp of pain hardened my nipples and wetted my pussy.

"Betty Sue's body. Where is it?"

"I can't. Rowan will kill me."

This time I took full aim at his balls... and didn't miss.

"Rowan's not here. I am."

I gave the winch crank another turn, literally lifting Jonas off the bed by his cock and balls.

"It hurts, it hurts so bad," he screamed. "Let me down. I'll tell you, just let me down."

I'd always enjoyed controlling other people, especially men. Having the power of life and death over the pitiful man laid out in front of me was by far the most intense experience I'd ever had. As much as I wanted to let the asshole hang by his cock until he died the worst death a man could imagine, I wanted to find Betty Sue's body even more.

It was important that I release him as soon as he broke. Not that another five minutes hanging by his balls would make him change his mind, but the intensity of my approaching orgasm might put me out of commission for a while. So, I released the ratchet holding the rope, letting the evil man fall back onto the bed just before spasms of intense pleasure seized control of my body, dropping me to the floor.

I don't know how long I was out of commission due to my pleasure induced incapacitation. Probably about the same as Jonas and, although he didn't enjoy the experience quite as much as I, the streaks of white sticky goo on his belly indicated that he too had climaxed. Regardless, once I pulled myself off the floor, Jonas was ready to talk.

"She's buried in an old mine in Rutherford State Park. Hardly anybody knows it's there," Jonas said.

"I'm going to call a friend and you're going to tell him how to get there."

"That wasn't part of the deal. I tell you where Betty Sue is, and you let me go. We never agreed on telling somebody else."

While his cock and balls were no longer holding the weight of his body, the noose was still attached, and he was still restrained to the bed. He was in no position negotiate.

"Jonas, put yourself in my place. I can either go wandering around a deserted mine looking for a dead body or I can turn this crank and wait until you agree to my phone call."

Five minutes later, Jonas had passed Betty Sue's location on to Officer Flanagan.

"It will take me a good forty-five minutes to get there," Flanagan told me. "And then another half hour to dig up the body... if there is one."

"What do you suggest I do with Jonas while you're gone?" I asked.

"Leave him tied up. And watch him. If he looks like he's trying to escape, give him the sedative."

I spent the next hour and a half babysitting an extremely sore and pissed off murderer. After ninety minutes listening to Jonas plead, threaten and whimper, Officer Flanagan finally called.

"I found a body," he said. "It's definitely a woman."

"Is it Betty Sue?"

"I couldn't tell by the picture you gave me. She didn't die a pleasant death and the body's been in the ground for a least a year. But her wedding band is still on her finger. The initials "BS" and "A" are inscribed on the inside with a heart between the letters. There's also a date that matches Betty Sue and Andrew's wedding date. We won't be able to tell for sure until we get the DNA analyzed, but I'm ninety nine percent sure it's her."

"So, what do I do with Jonas?" I asked.

"Keep him tied up and give him the shot. Once he's out, clean up as best you can and make sure you don't leave anything there that could lead to you."

"You want me to leave him here?" I asked.

"Yes. Leave him and never return. I'll take care of everything else."

Considering what Jonas did to Betty Sue, leaving him alone, restrained and comatose on the bed didn't bother my conscience a bit. The only part of Officer Flanagan's instructions I didn't follow was to take all my tools with me. I left the winch and noose in the bedroom... making sure I re-tightened the rope tension before I departed.

Flanagan didn't tell me what he did with Jonas and I didn't ask. I never saw or heard of the man again and, more importantly...

Since I knew the location of his deceased wife, Councilman Andrew Rowan now belonged to me.

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