DO PRESENT FOR CHRIS(SIE) 03
(Monday)
By DannyR (MMM/bb, oral, anal, incest, ws, pedo)
Copyright 2012. All rights reserved.
Author’s Reminder: Don’t forget that inquiring authors want to know -- what did you think? So when you’re done, put your fingers to a dried-off, cleaned-up keyboard and start by typing: dr_harris_81@hotmail.com.
DISCLAIMER: Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality. This story is a fantasy. It didn’t happen. Never will. And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things depicted in the story needs to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and then turned over to the cops for the harshest penalties the law allows. After that, well, hopefully everything Law and Order and the news say is true about child molesters in prison, is really true. Now that we’re clear on what’s what, and what’s not, read on.
Special Note: Thanks to DJ, whose email said this: “Oh man! how I love the pedo fantasy stories of dads and their young sons! God how I love the thoughts of little boy cock and their sweet little boy pussy holes. A daddy who has a 10 year old son he likes to “dress” up...take him out for all the men to drool over...making him a pretty little girl for all the other pedo daddies...I so love to masturbate having these beautiful fantasies.” Which led to the first part, and the second, and now this:
A PEDO PRESENT FOR CHRIS(SIE)
(Monday)
MONDAY
“Mr. Howard, this is my niece, Christine. She’s a student at St. Xavier’s, over in Harrisonville. Chris is home sick today, but Marianna is taking care of him, so I thought I’d introduce little Chrissie to you.”
David Howard is the principal of Chris’ school. He’s always struck me as some sort of pervert and now the proof is in the boy pussy. Today Chrissie is in her schoolgirl uniform. Black patent Mary Janes. White knee socks. A very skimpy blue-grey plaid skirt. Black belt. A white blouse. A blue blazer. No school logo on it yet, but there will be. Pigtails. Subtle make-up, but combined with the bright red nail polish (it’s even on her toes)...it really ought to be called Jungle Red...once again she looks like a whore masquerading as a Catholic school virgin.
“Chris is having some trouble in his math class, and Chrissie’s, well, she’s so very...good...that I brought her along to see if there’s anything we can do to help her cousin. Oh. Sorry. Chrissie, would you be a good girl and pick that up for Uncle Paul?”
I’d accidentally dropped the notebook I was carrying, and Chrissie understands exactly what she’s supposed to do. As athletic as she is, she has absolutely no trouble bending at the waist so that her glorious head is pointing straight down to the ground. Which means her tiny skirt has hoisted up to show the hot red panties stretched very, very tight across the cheeks of her ass.
And of course, just to be sure no one misses the point of this exercise, there is a damp spot, more of a stain, actually, where the cum I’d pumped into Chrissie’s hot little pussy twice already this morning is leaking out. If Principal Howard is a pedo, he’ll groan, or grab his crotch.
He does both.
And flushes, realizing what he’s just disclosed. His distressed eyes flash toward me, but the fear fades when he sees me groping myself.
“She...ah...she’s wet?”
“Leaking, actually. I fucked her hot little ass twice this morning.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
I grin. “Actually, sweet Chrissie. You don’t have any objection to sliding your dick into the little whore’s ass, all slicked up by my cum, do you?”
“Ah, uh, no, but...whore?”
“Of course. Chrissie here is such a darling slut, she never puts out unless she gets something from it. Or I do.” Not totally a lie, since she’s actually starting her whoring today. The park was just a give away to help her start to get used to her new life as my slut. “Now, about Chris’ grade....”
The principal’s eyes fall. “I, ah, I’m afraid I have no power to, ah, assist in that fashion.”
I shrug. “Just a thought.”
“But...if I could get someone here who could help?”
My right eyebrow raises. It’s very effective.
“Mr. Jameson. Your son’s fifth grade teacher.”
“This school filled with pedos, or what?”
Principal Howard winces. “Not...filled, exactly.” He can tell from my expression that’s too fucking vague. “Alfred Munn, he, ah, he’s the janitor. And...Tony Balesteri. He teaches kindergarten and first grade.”
My smile broadens. “Any boys this Tony prefers to molest? Young boys?”
The principal answers with a smile. He’s getting used to hearing the words, rather than just thinking them or avoiding them. “Yes. He molests the Broaddus twins, Jack and Jeremy. they’re five.”
I nod as my cock spurts precum.
“Here’s the deal, Principal Howard. Get me Jameson in here and he can use Chrissie in exchange for bettering Chris’ grade. In fact, if Chrissie is really fine, her cousin should get an A. You get me with the twins, and that gets both you and this Tony guy access to little Chrissie’s pussy. Deal?”
The pedo principal is on the phone almost before I’m finished talking. He instructs his secretary to take over Mr. Jameson’s class, and send Mr. Jameson to him. His next call is to Tony, and he puts the call on the speaker.
“Mr. Balesteri, I have a very good friend of the school here in my office. I’ve been telling him about the fine, fine work you do, especially with the Broaddus twins. He would very much like to, ah, meet all three of you.”
Only the slightest pause indicates the teacher has picked up on the word play. “I could certainly bring Jeremy along, but Jack had to go to the bathroom. I told Sam to take him, but that he’d have to make it quick, so I’m sure they’re done by now. I’ll just swing by the boys’ room first.”
I shake my head and the principal catches on. “No, no, no need to interrupt Sam. Jeremy will be fine.”
The principal smiles as he hangs up. “I should have included Sam, the teaching aide, on the list. He’s a junior in college, taking a practicum course with us. I’m quite sure I’ll be hiring him when he graduates.”
I smile back and instruct Chrissie to bend over the principal’s desk and slide her panties down so her cousin’s pedo principal can get his prick in her pussy. “Mr. Jameson won’t mind using your cum as lube?”
The principal has a surprisingly nice piece of meat on him, with a reddish head where the skin is peeled back. “Do I need to go easy on her?”
I smirk. “She’s a whore. Use her as you wish as long as there’s no permanent damage.”
The principal licks his lips, hesitates. Takes a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted to, ah, cane a child before fucking.”
“Never had the opportunity before?”
He brightens at the “before.” A hint of possible future abuse.
“And I assume you’re prepared, just in case?”
Another nod, a glance at the closet door.
“What will Mr. Jameson think? After all, you’ll be sharing her pussy and we don’t want him to not enjoy himself, or Chris won’t get the help he needs.”
“He’ll enjoy it, I know. He had a little boy at his last school. He told me all about it while I....”
He pauses.
“While you were on your knees sucking him off? Jacking while you sucked?”
He nods, looking away.
I pause. “That kind of abuse will cost you.”
“How much?”
I know principals, pedo or otherwise, don’t make all that much. Certainly not anything fucking near my income. But it’s the principle of the thing.
“You have access to any boys outside of school?”
His eyes turn wary. He reluctantly nods.
“How young?”
I can see him trying to decide.
Give up his secret stash of kid pussy or apparently never get to hurt a little ass before fucking it. Share a kid’s holes or don’t get your rocks off the way you really want. An obvious pedo choice is made.
“Three.”
“Who?”
“My...my grandson.”
Praise the Lord and pass the pedo pussy.
“Virgin or used?”
He sighs. Deep regret at what he is about to say, apparently. Well, if he was a dumb enough pedo not to take advantage of available kid cunt, it’s not my problem. “Virgin.”
The negotiation is brief. The pedo principal is not very good. He starts way too high by demanding twenty strokes of the cane in exchange for his grandson’s cherry. No way am I damaging the merchandise that way, especially with a man whose ability to cane properly...and fuck, what an odd thought that is, caning a little boy “properly” before fucking him...is unknown.
We settle on three strokes with a paddle he just “happens” to have in the office of a school where corporal punishment is prohibited, and three strokes of the cane. Chrissie is looking at me with horror, tears running down her face, streaking her makeup. Ah well, it’s going to happen anyway when the hurting starts.
I can also see a related fear. Fear I won’t let him stay home until his ass is no longer red and any welts have gone away. (A valid fear. I won’t.) Fear that his friends, his teachers, will see his obviously spanked and caned buttocks and know who Chrissie really is. I am about to allay her fears, when the door opens. And quickly shuts behind the man who steps in. He locks it.
Mr. Jameson. We’ve met only once and I wasn’t paying much attention to his fawning yammering at the time. A fundraiser for something to do with the school I think. He doesn’t speak, just begins to rapidly strip, taking it for granted that if he’s been asked to come to the principal’s office and finds a little girl bent over the principal’s desk with her panties down below her butt cheeks, a large, well-dressed man whose relationship to the little girl is presently unknown but is showing a thick nine inch hardon sticking out of his dress pants, and a half naked principal with a leaking dick, then he’s going to get some little girl cunt as well.
Jameson is remarkably hairy. About seven cut inches, medium thick. His hair is thick, too, dark brown, curly, everywhere. A slight belly and some love handles. He’s so eager he just leaves his white briefs and pants at his ankles, ready to do the waddling thing. I look at his briefs. They will do admirably.
“Mr. Jameson, this is my niece Chrissie.” He doesn’t respond except by licking his lips and stroking his prick.
“Her cousin Christopher is not doing well in your class, and since she’s such an eager little slut, she’s agreed to whore herself to you in exchange for a really good grade for Christopher.”
He blinks. His eyes show he’s not thought of kiddy whores before, or at least not as applying to him. “Both ends.”
“For an A this semester.”
“This quarter.”
I look down at Chrissie. “Well, slut? Are you willing to suck the nice teacher’s dick three more times after today, and let him fuck you three more times to make sure your dear cousin gets an A for the whole year?”
Poor Christopher. He’s a bright boy, an excellent student, but Jameson’s class is one he has great difficulty with, probably because he hates the subject so much. His father is turning him into a girly-boy whore, but up to now he’s just been ordered to do things. Now I’m asking him. Giving him a choice. Oh, he knows he really has no choice at all, he can tell that from my tone. But he doesn’t know what he risks if he balks and makes me force him, not with three paddle spanks and three cane stripes in his near future. But if he agrees, oh, but if he agrees, he’s admitting he’s a whore, a kid cunt who will dress up like a little girl and sell himself for his own benefit, and as he’s heard, for his father’s.
Chrissie slumps, nods.
“Excellent choice, my dear slut. Now, Jameson, your briefs, please.”
“Huh?”
I gesture and he bends to comply, toeing off his dress shoes, peeling his trousers, stepping out of the undies, straightening up to hand them to me, clad now in his calf-high dark socks, which are fucking held up by a garter. So old-fashioned. And surprisingly hot. I suppose I am not too old to consider acquiring another fetish.
Jameson flushes when he sees me looking at the yellow stains at the crotch, and the slight skid marks behind. “Bend over, Mr. Jameson.”
Excellent. No arguing, no posturing about “I never.” He leans forward and spreads his cheeks with both hands. I squat behind him. Lean in. Inhale. Musky, raunchy. A man who likes his own scent. I finger his hole. It’s moist. I dig the tips of two fingers in and Jameson doesn’t pull away. I sniff them and I’m tempted to lick them clean myself. But this is for Chrissie.
I rise, walk over to her, put my fingers with their slight stain under her nose. Make her sniff. Tell her to get my fingers clean. She thinks about fighting, but once again caves. Soon, I think, we’ll get to the point where she doesn’t even think about fighting, she just does. She licks, and gags a bit when I shove both fingers in her mouth, being deliberately rough.
I look at Jameson. “Think you can piss, but just a little?”
He looks puzzled. I hold out his briefs. “In these.”
“Oh, Christ, yes,” the pedo principal moans. Which gives me another idea. Jameson comes over, holds the bunched up briefs under his pee lips, concentrates with his eyes shut, and a spurt of raunchy smelly piss comes out, then another, and another until the briefs are half-soaked. He stops, looks at me.
“The principal, here, ever drink your piss?” A head shake. “Put the briefs in his mouth and let’s see what happens.”
His dripping cock leading the way, Jameson pads over to the half-naked principal and rudely shoves the wet briefs into the man’s already-open mouth. The principal’s whimper is obviously one of pleasure.
There is a knock on the door, and the handle is tried. “Mr. Howard? It’s, ah, Mr. Balesteri.”
So fucking formal when he knows he’s been invited for pedo sex, just not the scope of the pedo sex. I’m bold, but not stupid enough to just open the door wide. The formality of the teacher’s voice could mean someone was out there with him. Besides boy cunt. The principal takes the wet briefs out of his mouth and softly says, “Control F4,” and nods to his keyboard.
Jameson leans over the desk around Chrissie, follows directions and apparently a shot of the outer office pops up. “It’s okay.”
I unlock and open the door, step back. Balesteri takes the sight of Chrissie, still bent over the desk, the half-naked principal, the naked-but-for-hot-socks Jameson, and the dick-out big guy, in stride. As in a stride inside, almost yanking the fat little boy with him, allowing me to close and lock the door. Two fat boys in a row, the nigglet yesterday, the white one today.
Balesteri doesn’t go very far. Drops to his knees and starts undressing the boy, pulling his too-tight tee over his head, yanking his shorts and Sponge Bob underwear down to the floor. He makes the little boy sit on the floor briefly, while he pulls off the shoes and socks and clothes and then has him stand up again.
The kindergarten teacher reaches under the boys’ protruding belly and fondles the cocklet that is invisible to the standing adults. His smile indicates he’s pleased with the results. He looks closely at the boy. “Remember what your daddy said about sharing?”
“Uh-huh.” The kid accompanies the sound with a nod.
“What did he say?”
“That...that you could...could let other men, uh, m’lest me.”
“Very good, Jeremy.” He plays with the boy’s fat tittie, thumbing the top of the nipple. The boy whimpers. “And who has molested you so far, besides your daddy?”
“Uh, Muh...Mr. Howard, ‘n Sam, ‘n, ‘n Mr. Munn.” Balesteri nods and plays with the other plump tittie; asks how they molested him. “F...fucked my mouth pussy ‘n my boy pussy.”
“And did you like how they molested you?”
A little cloud appears on his adorable face, with its glowing reddish cheeks, plump red bowed lips. “Muh...Mr. Munn hurt.”
Balesteri smirks, looks up at me, the only stranger in the room. “Al is black and big.” He eyes my nine inches of meat. “Not as long as you, but thicker.”
He stands and sheds clothes, leaving everything in little piles. Naked, he’s a moderately hairy, olive-skinned, uncut seven inch Italian. Big, low hanging balls. Not at all embarrassed about being naked in front of a man at least six inches taller, who outweighs him, and is still dressed in an expensive suit, just with a dripping fat seven and a half inch hardon standing out.
“What’s the deal?”
A man after my own hardon.
“Chrissie, my niece, is not only an eight year old slut, she’s a whore. Our pedo principal gets to fuck her in exchange for the getting me access to some younger pussies, like Jeremy here; Jameson here, gets to fuck her in both ends every quarter so her favorite cousin Christopher, my son, gets an A in Jameson’s class all year. And David, here, has also paid me for a special privilege.”
Jameson and Balesteri look at him. He sniffs the wet briefs. Sighs. “I, uh, get to paddle her three times and cane her three times before I fuck her.”
The two teachers respond with a “Jesus!” and an “Oh, shit!” while groping their cocks.
“So what do I get for Jeremy’s cunt?”
“Gangbanging Chrissie’s tight twat.” The idea obviously appeals to him, as it would to any self-respecting pedo.
“And for his twin, Mr. Stillwell? Seeing as how their daddy lets me decide who gets them here at school.”
Actually, I know Alderman Broaddus. Quite well, in fact. I already knew he was a pedo, since he’d fucked the nigglet Asanti yesterday at Pastor Rick’s church. So I’m sure I’ll have no trouble getting to fuck his boys in exchange for Chrissie, but I admire a man who has probably already figured that out since he recognizes me, and must be aware of my public friendship with the alderman I can get access easily to both twins, yet still tries to strike a deal.
“How about a three year old? After I get his cherry?”
Balesteri’s mouth drops open. He turns to the principal. “You’re gonna let him fuck your grandson?” The principal nods. He’s clearly not happy about the new terms, but we’ll work something out. Still more favorable to me than him, of course.
Balesteri knows he’s not going to get a better deal. “I’m in.”
“Yeah, but seconds on a freshly-fucked three old ought to be worth more than a well-used five year old’s pussy. Any other boy cunt you haven’t been passing around?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Mike Davis. He’s in Jameson’s class. Friend of Christopher’s, too, I think.”
I hear a quickly suppressed gasp and moan from Chrissie. Mike is indeed a friend of my son’s, his best friend, in fact. A muscular ten year old who plays soccer and baseball, with a high and tight haircut inspired by his away-in-somewhere-secret Marine dad. Balesteri notices my smile.
“Kid’s a natural fuck, man. I think his dad must’ve broken him in, ‘cause he takes my dick too well to be very new at it, but he won’t admit it. But Christ, you’ll really get off on the way he dry cums while he’s being fucked. Over and fucking over again, the little slut.”
I can almost see the horror on Mike’s face when he finds out Balesteri has brought him to me for a royal fucking. Mike’s fear that I’ll let his butch soccer stud buddy Christopher know he’s a bottom slut fag. His pain when I fuck him and fuck him hard, emulating the way I am sure his special ops Marine dad uses him. His relief when I let him watch me fuck my son, his best friend. His joy when he finds out who Chrissie is and gets to use her, too. Yeah, my life is even fucking better today.
I bring myself out of the fantasy. I have an orgy to organize. “Deal.”
I turn to the group, who are obviously awaiting the head pedo’s orders.
I make Chrissie move around to the front of the desk, where there’s more room for all of us to watch her whipping. Her lips are tight, her eyes are agonized.
Hot damn.
And how confused he’ll be tonight when I use him lovingly, tenderly, caringly. When I give him multiple wonderful dry cums before flooding his pussy. All as my son, not his girly-boy other self.
“Open your mouth, whore.”
She does. Principal Pedo knows what to do. He forces the wet, pissy, stained briefs into her mouth, gagging her so her screams won’t be heard. The principal hops from foot to foot to get out of his pants and undies, gets rid of the rest of his clothes, leaving only me dressed.
He gets the paddle from a drawer. It’s about the size of a ping pong paddle, smooth wood, with holes. He opens the door to the closet, fumbles around the back, and steps away, holding a slender cane in his hand. His eyes are feverish.
I hold three fingers out to the fat little boy standing before me, admiring my big meat. “Get these wet, kid.”
He does as he’s told, licking and slurping while the men watch, getting them slimy with spit. “You know where these are going?”
“Uh-huh. Up in my boy cunt.”
“On the desk.”
Jameson and Balesteri lift the boy up, put him on all fours on the desk. It’s large enough that I can stand behind the five year old and see little Chrissie’s quivering butt.
Fifth grade teacher and kindergarten teacher move in, stroking each other’s pricks, as Principal Howard hauls off and swacks Chrissie’s left butt cheek. Hard. My little girly-boy howls, but it’s muffled by the raunchy soaked briefs in her mouth. The second blow, on his other cheek, is harder, it seems. So is the scream. The third one is evenly spread across both cheeks. Her flesh is bright red now.
The principal is so flushed, his meat so stiff and leaking, he’s either going to have a heart attack or cum without fucking. He’s also on the verge of losing control. Chrissie may be my son, my whore, but nobody fucks within anything I own. “Get a grip, fucker,” I tell him.
Startled, the principal looks away from what he’s done to Chrissie’s ass, up at me, gets my message. He breathes in and out slowly, the flush recedes.
I pull my three thick hairy fingers out of the five year old cunt. He’d only grunted when I shoved them in about the time the first paddle blow landed. I put my large hand across his small face, pinch both nostrils shut, and shove my dong balls deep. He screams into my palm, struggles to get away, fighting for breath. I let the struggle go on as everyone watches me, jacking avidly. I finally let him loose and his head drops, his mouth wide and gasping as he drools slime onto the papers on the desk. Not my problem.
Jeremy is not happy with my cock in his cunt. It seems I’m farther up inside him than anyone else has been and he may be hurting. Too fucking bad, but I’m fucking. I tell the principal to get on with it.
The two teachers step back. The principal drops the paddle on his desk, picks up the cane, stands back, swishes it experimentally. I’m not certain how much control he has, since he’s never done this before. But he must have practiced somehow, because he moves to the side, and the first blow is crisp, leaving a bright red welt straight across the upper part of Chrissie’s cheeks, where the curve is just beginning. My girly boy screams again, more agony in the sound. The second stripe is directly across the middle of his ass, where the cheeks are fullest. The third is safely above the crease where ass meets thigh.
I reach across, yank the briefs from his mouth, drop them, shove his face down in them. We can hear him begging “daddy” not to hurt him any more. I know it’s not role-playing, the slut has forgotten who he presently is, and he will be punished for it, but the others respond to the idea of a little eight year old slut begging her daddy not to beat her any more. The teachers egg daddy on, telling him to fuck his slut daughter.
He does. He steps up, spreads her red hot cheeks with his thumbs, and shoves his prick all the way into Chrissie’s cunt. Unfortunately, the principal is a not-in-control pedo; he’s too excited by everything up to this moment, and in just a few strokes he’s grunting out an “oh fuck!” that let’s us know he’s breeding his little girl.
The principal sighs, and slowly pulls his prick out. Steps back. Jameson steps up, caresses Chrissie’s bright pink, welted ass. He asks how much for six more. Chrissie’s screamed “No!” is cut off as I shove the raunchy briefs back in her mouth.
“Three hundred for three with the paddle. Four fifty more for the cane. Or you arrange a full weekend at my place, Friday night to Sunday night, with Mike Davis. With his mom thinking he’s somewhere else.”
He hesitates. Sighs. “No way I can be sure about a weekend. Three hundred.”
I don’t accept promises to pay when it comes to money. He’s shocked, as they all are, when I insist he call my office, speak to my secretary, inform her that he’s a new client and I’d instructed him to use his credit card for a down payment of $300 on my services. If he’d actually been paying that would be for about a half hour of my time. He scrambles around for his wallet, and does what he’s told, while I continue a leisurely fuck of the hurting five year old cunt wrapped around my cock.
When Jameson’s done with paying the pimp, he picks up the paddle, steps up to the frightened little whore, caresses the bright red, lightly welted ass cheeks, sticks his forefinger in her oozing pussy, pulls it out, sucks it clean, smiles at us.
The first smack! is loud in the room, expertly done, and Chrissie howls as best she can through the smelly briefs in her mouth.
There is a nice long pause, while Jameson again strokes my girly boy’s hurting ass, before he roughly shoves two fingers in her pussy, fucking her hole and making her whimper as he rubs her little bump, and then he yanks them out, steps back, and hurts her again.
The second one is even better, at least in terms of my enjoyment as I started brutally fucking the kid cunt my dick is in during the pause. Jameson repeats the process, stretching out Chrissie’s pain, teasing him with two dry cums, and by the time his hand swings again and the paddle hits my slut’s now bruised ass, I’m pumping my seed deep in the five year old bowels of the alderman’s son.
I stay motionless, still buried in the kid’s cunt, as Jameson takes his turn fucking my little whore. He’s even nice enough to play with her clittie and give her two cums before doing his own breeding.
Jameson and the principal each get a brief turn at Chrissie’s pussy, lapping out some of the cum, but I don’t let them try to get it all. I want her panties to get wet with oozing cum and ass juices.
We get dressed, our respective acts reasonably back together again. I make arrangements with the principal for a time to molest his virgin three year old grandson, making sure it’s convenient for Jameson, since he’ll be getting sloppy seconds.
As we step out into the bright sunlight and head toward the school parking lot, I look down at my girly boy and realize he does indeed look like a freshly fucked slut. His makeup is of course a mess, what with the face fucking, the sweat from his beatings and fuckings, and of course the smelly wet jock that had been in his mouth. That’s just a little too much for being out in public. For obvious reasons I can’t let anyone suspect the Chris cock beneath the Chrissie dress.
What the fuck. I’ll take him home and let him be Chris for a while, before I fuck him again.
“C’mon, son, let’s get you home, and out of that outfit, and into the shower.”
His shoulders slump with relief and then he straightens up and smiles. Christ, but I have one hot pussy boy son.
My phone rings as we’re getting in the car. I tap the icon. “Stillwell.”
I have a brief conversation, hang up. “Change of plans, son. We have to go to the office.”
“Aw, dad. I don’t wanna sit around waiting for you like this. Can’t you just drop me off home?”
“No!” My voice isn’t in the don’t fuck with me tone, but it also tells him that asking or whining any more will not be appreciated.
I start the engine, look to make sure he/she is buckled in, and he/she is. I back out of the parking space, turn toward the exit. We’re not actually going to my office, but to the penthouse, just above the seven floors occupied by the firm. It’s the private domain of “the twins”—the irreverent and carefully used (as in be sure the bosses aren’t around) nickname of Robert and Edward Pemberton, the first two names on the letterhead. Robert II is the next on the list, Edward II is the fourth, with Hoyt, Dalrymple and Wright rounding out the list. Robert III is actually just an associate at the moment, though no one expects that to last all that long.
The call was from Mrs. Hyatt, the stone cold bitch who is secretary for both of the twins. It was a surprise, but not a great one, even though I have comparatively little interaction with the two most senior of the partners. I’ve been summoned to meet with “Mr. Robert” and “Mr. Edward” (no one else would dare say those names), immediately. And when I’d let her know I had to make a brief stop, but I’d be there quickly, she’d asked if my niece was with me.
What the fuck?
The senior partners, at the very least, know I have no siblings; Mrs. Hyatt has access to that information. As the saying goes, she knew, or should have known, or in the exercise of ordinary care could have known, that I have no niece. But she’d asked and you don’t refuse to answer one of her questions, not when you’re up for a senior partnership in the next six months. So I masked my shock and said “yes.”
Mrs. Hyatt’s “very good” had all the warmth of a blizzard. “In that case,” she went on to say, “Mr. Robert has requested that you bring her with you. Immediately.” In the senior Pemberton dictionary, “request” is a defined as, “Do it, and do it the fuck now, and don’t fuck it up.” “Immediately” is defined as, “Why the fuck didn’t you realize I would need this and provide it to me yesterday?”
Ten minutes later, I pull into the parking garage, glance over at Chrissie as I head to my space. She’s squirming just a little, most likely an uncomfortable combination of pain in her ass and wet panties.
I turn the engine off. After a very brief pause for a sort of mental double what-the-fuck, I get out, walk around the car, let Chrissie out, or rather, make her get out. She panics when I tell her where we’re going and who will be there, and wants to do something about how she looks, but we have no time for pit stops. As we walk toward the elevators, Chrissie, my thoroughly debauched looking pussy boy whore, puts his hand in mine.