byNakod Apa©

'One of those bastards, is he?'

'Yes. I was a virgin until I started there. I held out when he first hit on me but when we became desperate for the cash and it was too late to look for something else I had to let him have his way. If I'd continued refusing he would have sacked me without a reference at the end of the season. I had no option.'

'Right. we'll sort him out.'

There was no sign of Bolger and his minions when we arrived at the sea-front promenade and parked outside the Information Centre. I let Sara lead the way inside.

Behind the counter was a balding, scrawny individual. Ignoring me he glared at Sara. 'You're late, Frobisher. And you didn't lock up last night. You'll be out on your ear if it happens again. Now get the post sorted.'

'Excuse me,' I said.

He turned his attention to me. 'How can I help you, sir.'

'An apology to Miss Frobisher would help. Though it will barely begin to make amends, it might show willingness to improve.'

'I don't follow, sir.'

'I had a slight suspicion that Miss Frobisher was exaggerating in describing how objectionable you are. I can see that, if anything she understated and you really are a most contemptible person.'

'Wha. . .' He started to bluster.

I glanced at Sara, 'Got your things, dear?'

'Yes, Richard.'

'Go and open the back door of the van for me. We'll follow you out.'

I vaulted the counter and, before the manager could move clamped his arm and twisted it up behind his back.

'What do you think your doing? Let me alone.' His voice became muffled when I grabbed a T-shirt labelled "A Present From Seadown" off a display stand and rammed it in his mouth.

Pulling his arm higher I ran him out of the door and round to the rear of our wheels.

'Emma go and sit in the front with Sara.' I commanded.

'You get in!' I yanked the man's arm. 'And don't even think of . . . or I'll use this.' I pulled the imitation revolver from my pocket and waved it in his face. He blanched. Imitation or no it was doing its job.

'Sara, you drive. Not too fast. I'll give you directions.'

I climbed in the back beside our prisoner. 'You, keep quiet. I've still got the gun.'

Sara took us at a sedate pace out of town and into the country lanes. After a few random turns we came upon an overgrown area with a footpath winding into a small wood. 'This will do,' I said.

Parked, I ordered the manager out and stood him beside the car.

'Drop them,' I ordered.

Puzzled, he stared at me. 'What?'

'Your trousers... and your underpants. Lose them... NOW!'

I waved the imitation revolver at him. 'You thought you could abuse and force a vulnerable girl to whore for you. Well it's payback time - "for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap". Go and look it up.'

He trembled, 'Don't shoot me.'

'That's what you deserve. But not right now. The courts don't like us taking justice into own hands. '

Shaking he removed his lower garments. It didn't look right so I had him strip completely except for his shoes. Then I collected all his clothes and threw them in the back of the vehicle saying, 'If you want to see these again, check the scarecrows. And I'll be ensuring your employers are made aware of your management techniques. In the meantime this little lesson will serve as a warning.'

Moving Sara over I slid into the driving seat and pulled away leaving him standing naked by the road side, his limp cock and balls dangling for all the world to see.


The trip back to my home town went smoothly and inside a couple of hours I was shepherding Emma into the doctor's surgery. By this time her twitches displayed the beginning of a need for fix. However she said nothing and showed a commendable strength of character in attempting to fight her addiction.

A few quick questions; a dose of methadone to ease her symptoms and the company doctor was arranging for her admission to a treatment centre in the next town. We could have requested an ambulance, but Sara wanted to stay with her sister for as long as possible so we ferried Emma to the centre ourselves and saw her settled.

'Stage one complete,' I remarked as we returned to the car and joined the traffic.

'What now?' Sara said. 'I feel dull, stale and exhausted.'

'We need to organise somewhere for you to stay.'

'I thought I was going to stay with you?'

'You can if you wish. But it's only a one bed bachelor flat.' I crossed my fingers and prayed she'd say "yes".

'So what. You think I'm going to let you out of my sight?'

'Right, that's decided. Now, if you can bear with me for a little longer while I call into the office I'll swap this lump of tin for a company car and arrange for it to be returned and my MG brought back.'

'You won't be long?'

'Well, I'm sure Catherine - that's my secretary - will try to pin me to my desk, so if you come with me it'll help me escape.'

'And then?'

'Ah! I have plans. Things to do.'

'Such as?'

'Firstly I need to deal with this ache you've given me between my legs - a short, sharp, shafting should suffice for present. Though when we're settled I'm going to ride you properly and then bath you. After which, while you're all wet, I'm going to shave you where it matters. Once I have you nice and clean and smooth all over I intend to spend some time - probably a lot of time - exploring you. Getting to know what turns us on and which of the Kama Sutra positions suits us best.'

'Sounds a rather lengthy task.'

'Could last a lifetime, but I aim to have the basics complete within a few days and then we can make our final arrangements.'

'What for? Sorry, "for what" is grammatically correct I believe.'

'Not only a pretty face, but a brain to boot.'

'Flattery will get you anything.'

'All I want right now is between your legs.'

'Typical male. A one track mind. Anyway, come on, give. Arrangements for what?'

'Our wedding.'

'Oh! ... I don't recall being asked if I would marry you.'

'You weren't.'

'Well, shouldn't you ask me first?'

'If you want me to, but it won't make any difference. I decided yesterday that I was going to make you my wife.'

'Did you now.'

'Yes, and I notice you haven't said "no".'

'I need time to think about it.'

Turning into a side road I parked the car in front of a large Victorian house. 'My flat's in here. You can have until we get inside to reach a decision. Though I'm not accepting anything less than a rapturous "yes".'

Leading the way into my small, garden flat I showed Sara around. 'Living room, kitchen, bathroom and this is the bedroom. Enough for me and we should be able to get by for a month or two while I sort out something more suitable.'

'A palace compared with what Emma and I have had for the last year.'

'You've made your decision then?'

'What is it that the writers say - "don't tell - show".'

Reaching out she slid a finger into the waistband of my trousers. 'Come here.' Pulling me close her open lips found mine in a tentative kiss that told me she wasn't as self-assured as she was pretending.

Our tongues probed and danced. My breathing quickening, my hands moved round to her back and slid down to her butt, clasping her firm cheeks and pulling her close. She gently nibbled my lower lip as my hands roamed lightly over her curves, caressing and exploring, their touch making her shiver.

Her kisses became impassioned. Feverishly her fingers unfastened my shirt buttons. I responded by slipping my hands under her floppy sweater. The shirt open, she pulled the tails free from my jeans, slid it along my arms and away. Tilting her head back she let me lift the sweater over her head and unhook that damned bra. Soft, ripe breasts filled my palms and my hot lips found a hard nipple. I could sense the urgency growing in her. Her small hands found the belt of my trousers, undid the buckle, began to lower the zip.

'Is this the answer I want, or are you just desperate for my magnificent body?' I asked.

'Both.' Her voice was a low moan. She was in no mood to play. ' Please, I want you inside me. Take me now!'

Jerking my jeans and underpants down my legs to the floor she rapidly had me naked. She joined me with a quick flick of her skirt's catch, which fell to top the pile of our clothes, and a frantic shove of her thong down those sexy legs.

Urgently we pressed our naked bodies together. I sensed waves of desire rushing to her wet cunni; her need for me seemed almost inexhaustible as I nuzzled her neck; my gentle hands cupping her tender tits; thumbs brushing hard nipples.

Her fingers found my rock-hard cock. Slowly they caressed, then lightly stroked me until I was throbbing. Then, one hand firmly grasping my length, she led me to the bed. Lying above me, her head between my legs, she enveloped me with a hot mouth, taking me to a world of pleasure.

My right hand stroking and rubbing her nipple, I slid the left down to explore her inner thigh and with incisive fingers parted the wet lips of her furrow, pushing the middle one into her moist warmth. She groaned with pleasure and bit my ear.

Pushing me on my back she straddled me, knee walking up my body until her pendent tits were brushing my chest. Reaching between our sweating bodies she recaptured my cock and guided it to her warm, moist pussy then, sitting back, positioned its tip at her entrance while I caressed the smooth flesh of her inside her legs, my thumbs finding and parting her juicy lips. Slowly she impaled herself.

Rocking back and forth she grabbed my wrists and pushed my arms up high. Leaning forward she first pressed her hot lips to mine then raised her torso slightly to dangle her luscious tits in front of my face. I did as I was bid and sucked them - hard.

She pushed down and then rose up, lost in the greatest pleasure known to woman, groaning with joy, wanting it to last for ever. Quickly the pressure built, my cock straining and throbbing. My fingers clasping her hips urging her upright.

She cried out, 'Yes! Yes! Yesss,' as her contractions ripped an explosive release from my shaft.

Her rhythm slowed to a halt. Her body relaxing, my limp cock slid from her. She sighed and collapsed on top of me.

Her head resting on my shoulder I said, 'I take it the answer is "yes".'

'Oh, yes, yes, yes,' she gasped. 'Did you have any doubts after all the hope you've given both me and Emma?'

'Not really. But I had to give you the chance to say "no".' I wrapped my arms about her and held her tight, 'In the past I've had some agreeable answers to my questions, but never one as enjoyable as that.' I said.

'There's plenty more where that came from.'

'I should hope so.'


The next two months were busy ones. Introducing Sara to my family; rebuilding her wardrobe; organising our nuptials; frequently visiting Emma to provide support as she gradually got clear of the drugs. But principally house hunting. Not just for us, but also for Emma - once she had fully recovered - since both Sara and I were agreed that she could not be cast aside to live alone.

The arrangements for the wedding assumed greater urgency after a few weeks when Sara happily announced that she was pregnant. So with all that was going on I had to put the problem of what to do about Shawn Bolger on the back burner for a while, though whenever something brought him to mind I remained determined that he should pay for his sins. However it wasn't until Sara and I returned exhausted from our extended honeymoon that I could find the energy to formulate a plan.

In my first, hot blooded, desire for revenge I had considered removing this blot on humanity altogether. And I still felt this was the most appropriate action. Not just for punishment, but also to protect others, since I couldn't see anything else that would prevent him continuing his damnable trade. Nor - not being of a lily-livered, liberal persuasion - would I have any trouble carrying out the deed myself. But my new responsibilities dictated caution. For our sophistical and ineffectual legal system that insists it, and only it, can dispense justice places the well being of the criminal above that of the victim and would label any attempt to impose my own punishment as vigilantism. I could well finish up being myself charged with some crime. However, I concluded that since they had so far shown no inclination to act it was up to me - and some friends - to find some way to fix him once and for all.

I used the problem as an excuse to look up several comrades from my time with the special forces. Their offers of help were unanimous, but we got no nearer a satisfactory plan until Dave Stock had a brain wave.

We started straight away. Over the next five or six weeks Dave himself, along with Edgar Lumb and Rik Manly, visited Seadown to familiarise themselves with the lie of the land. After which they established themselves with Shawn Bolger as occasional customers by making purchase or two. Incidentally becoming familiar with his routine.

Once we had enough intelligence we fixed a date when we could all be available at the same time. A weekend toward the end of the holiday season was agreed on and each of us booked accommodation in a different hotel or guest house in the next resort along the coast for, although we should be inconspicuous amongst the last of the holiday crowds, who knew what might go wrong; thus it would pay for us to appear unconnected.

Despite my objections that we mustn't risk the baby, Sara was adamant that she be included. If not to assist, at least to observe Bolger getting a taste of his own medicine.

He had himself well organised. Of an evening he would station himself in the far corner of a large supermarket car park - his motorcycle positioned for a quick get away. A minion positioned well up each of the approach roads, mobile phone at the ready, watched for any sign of the law. His other two henchmen were sited one at the entry and the other at the exit of the car park.

A customer would pause at the entry and place his order with the yob stationed there. Having confirmed the transaction by paging Bolger, the thug would demand the required cash, which he then whisked away to a safe cache. The customer would drive around to the exit and collect the gear from the other bullyboy, who had been passed it by Bolger. It was neat since no one individual had both money and drugs and, except for Bolger himself - who if need be could quickly vanish - not enough merchandise to be charged with dealing.

We decided to go directly for Bolger, ignoring his henchmen, on the assumption that they would flee the scene rather than attempt to assist their boss.

We timed our assault for the late evening, customers being sparse both for the supermarket and for Bolger. On foot, Rik and Edgar moved unobserved to position themselves in the shadows either side of our target. I was in the driving seat of a rented mini-van, with Sara beside me to observe events and Dave in the back ready to leap out and tackle Bolger. A simple,uncomplicated plan with little to go wrong.

When Rik and Edgar signalled they were all set I drove steadily into the car park and straight across the asphalt and stopped in front of Bolger. We had him surrounded.

Alarmed, he turned to mount his motorcycle. With Rik and Edgar moving to cut off any chance of his escape, Dave jumped out and tackled him. Desperately he tried to push past them but Dave caught his arm, twisted it behind his back and straight away had him effectively subdued in an arm lock. 'If you don't want to get hurt you will do as we say,' I told him, joining the action. 'Into the van, and sit on your hands.'

His minions have vanished at the first sign of trouble it was four against one, so he had no option but to comply. Once seated the Rik, Edgar and Dave climbed in after him and I pressed the remote locking on the doors.

He got his breath back, 'Who are you? What do you want? You can have all the gear in my bag.'

'Not interested. Look at who's sitting in front of you.' I briefly flicked on the interior light.

He stared at Sara, seeming to dwindle in size. No doubt he had felt he could bargain his way out of a confrontation with a rival gang but realised that we were a different proposition.

'I haven't done anything to you. Anyway I was only meeting a demand. . .' he started to bluster.

'Shut up! We're not here to discuss your crimes. Just execute your sentence.'

I turned on the car radio. The thumping bass from a rock station would drown any protests he might try to make.

Gesturing to the others I said, 'Gentlemen you may begin.'

They each produced the various purchases they had made on their previous visits. He tried to resist, but fingers pinching his nose he had to open his jaw to breathe. Head forced back, mouth wide open, he was made to swallow the twists of powder.

Nobody said anything. We just sat there and gave him a minute to recover, then I unlocked the doors and Rik pushed him out. As he collapsed in a heap on the asphalt I started the engine and we drove away.

Later, satisfied with a job well done, we had a small celebration in a local hostelry. Dave, who liked the occasional flutter, opened a book on the results of our poetic justice. Had we made him an addict as he had done so many others; had we given him a fatal overdose; or would he be tempted to ride his motorcycle in a drugged stupor and crash. Or maybe we had got it wrong and he would weather our punishment and survive unscathed.

A few days later I heard that Edgar had won our little sweepstake. Subject to the verdict of the coroner's inquest.



During the fifteen months or so since I found Sara, Hope and Sons has been through a bout of expansion and I've been kept fairly busy earning our bread. However things are starting to quieten down and I feel able to return to my previous leisurely approach to business. Thus today I arrive at our isolated country home in time for a late lunch. Garaging the car I wander round to the large secluded garden.

As she often does when the weather is warm and sunny, Sara is sitting on a rug in the middle of the lawn playing with the result of what I fondly maintain was that first night together.

My lady wears no clothing - a habit I encourage for it would be sacrilege to cover up that beautiful body - which induces me to pause in the shade of the veranda and admire her pleasing sunlit curves and shadowy hollows. Lust once more has me in its grasp as I step down onto the grass.

I try to creep up on them but Jonathon sees me and waves both pudgy arms.

'Hello, darling,' Sara says.

'Hello, wife,' I plant a kiss on her cheek.

'What are you proposing to do this afternoon?'

I grin, 'You to start with.'

'Oh, goody,' she says. 'But later, after I've persuaded your son to take his afternoon nap.'

I point to the bulge in my trousers. 'This won't wait. What do you suggest I do with it?'

'Emma's upstairs impatient for it. Only this morning she complained she wasn't getting her fair share. I disputed the point, but I'm afraid she may be right; you take me more than you do her.'

'Which is as it should be. You're my first wife, she's my unofficial second.'

'Perhaps, but she's still somewhat mixed up. She realises she owes you for saving her from the dreaded drugs but doesn't know any other way to reward you. You know what it's like, if people think they're in your debt and can't repay you then they come to resent you.'

'Yeah, that's why the government prefers to give overseas aid in the form of loans rather than straight grants.'

'Right darling, so what are you waiting for? Go and give her a good hard shafting. She'll thank you for it.'

'You're still sure you don't mind?'

'No. How often do I have to tell you, I look upon it as part of her therapy. She needs a man. Better you than some macho type who might again lead her astray.'

Report Story

byNakod Apa© 2 comments/ 14492 views/ 5 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

4 Pages:1234

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: