Best Enjoyed Cold

BEST ENJOYED COLD

 

 

PART EIGHT

‘Karma Chameleon’

 

 

“Every day is like survival,

you’re my lover not my rival.”

 

 

John Cumber sat slumped in a chair. He was barely surviving, a mere husk of the handsome, 6’ 3” corporate titan he had been just a couple of weeks earlier. The sheer horror of what had happened, the kidnap of his family, the images of his wife posted on the internet, the loss of most of his fortune, his anger, exhaustion, humiliation and impotence had sucked the life out of him, like all the juice from a blood orange.

“So, Ellen.” He sighed. “It’s over ?”.

It was as much statement as question.

The trading screens and tickers lining the room confirmed that he had lost his battle to keep the Cumber share price above $15. On top of the constant untraceable sell orders and rumours out of Asia, had crashed a tsunami of hedge fund shorts and investment bank re-ratings, overwhelming even his own and his allies’ substantial resources.

When the end came, it was decisive. The price had plunged to under $11 and it was still in freefall.

Ellen O’Leary wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and adjusted her half-moon glasses.

“It’s over, John. The banks won’t lend you any more. A couple of them feel terrible but they just can’t override their shareholders’ interests.”

The main Cumber Estate plus homes in the Hamptons and Aspen had been mortgaged to the hilt. The jet, cars, art and antiques, even Susan’s jewellery had already been put up as security.

“So how much do I have left ?”

“Just the Cumber stock and the bank won’t accept that now.”

“What’s its market value ?”

“A little under a billion dollars. At last night’s close.”

“So I’m still a fucking billionaire.” He bellowed, hurling a pencil at the wall. “A useless paper billionaire who can’t save his family !”

There was a silence.

“Maybe they will contact you soon. You held the price up as long as you could.” Ellen said.

It had been a week since he had paid the ransom and four days since the failed attempted to catch the villain on the flight to St. Vincent.

Not a word in all that time. But they had said they would kill a member of his family for each day the share price ended below 15 dollars.

In a little over ten minutes, the share price would close at under 11.

 

*** *** ***

 

He snatched up the phone, somehow knowing who it would be.

“Hi, John.”

“Yes ?” he snapped.

“Oh dear. I’m disappointed in you. What happened to our agreement ?”

“I have no more money. You have cleaned me out.”

“Really ?” The taunting voice seemed genuinely surprised. “I thought you would have lasted longer than that.”

“I know who you are.” He said. He could tell the caller’s voice was older, more transatlantic. He was talking to the father, not the son.

“Do you now ? Clever boy John, though I’m sure it was those Feds not you personally who worked it out.”

“You bastard.” He slammed the table. “How could you ?”

“You started it, trust me.”

“Stop that fucking trust me stuff. I don’t trust you at all.”

There was a deathly hush. A five seconds pause.

“Hello ?” John said.

“I’ve had enough of your rudeness John. This will be our last conversation. It was … er … nice meeting up again. Briefly.”

“Wait !” He exploded. “I’m sorry. I lost it. Pl … please …”

“But I can’t talk more than a minute. Blame those snoopy agents of yours. You keep shouting at me and so I never get the chance to say anything. Bye.”

“Look, please. I’m sorry. Truly, truly sorry. Have m … mercy.”

“Aah. That’s better Johnny boy. Tell you what, I’ll call you back once more. In a week or so.”

“Are my family alright ? You must tell me that at least.”

“No. I don’t have to tell you anything at all.”

The line went dead.

He hoped it was the only thing that had died.

 

*** *** ***

 

Lennie awoke with sunshine filtering through the blinds. Dust particles danced in the bright shafts of light and the smell of citrus and coffee tickled his nostrils. He reached down under the sheet and scratched his sweaty scrotum.

Rachel Cumber lay with her back to him. He lay for a moment admiring the sensuous curvature of her spine, her narrow waist and perfect buttocks. He smiled at the memory of her anus tight round his dick last thing before he fell asleep the night before.

“Wake !” he said, slapping her bottom so a red mark appeared.

She snapped alert, terrified, and dived her head under the sheet. In seconds, he felt her soft, guzzling lips around his morning glory. Her huge boobs pressed down against his legs like balloons.

He plonked his head back on the pillow and shut his eyes. Then he pushed his arm out and fumbled for the button by his bedside. He pushed.

No more than three minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.

Lennie peeked open his eyes and grinned up at Lorna. She was carrying a tray with a pot of black coffee, frothy hot milk, fruit juice and a pastry.

While she laid it down on the table, he pushed back the sheet, revealing Rachel’s shoulders and face worshipping his dick.

“Lick my butthole now.” He mumbled softly.

No need to shout when they readily obeyed.

He winked at Lorna. “You, take a turn on my dick.”

The two sisters worked in tandem. They were coming along well. Now that six of the mercenaries had taken off to Europe to visit a few banks, and the mom was doing her best to cater to the guys who remained, Lennie had the two girls to himself quite a lot of the time. As was his plan.

His own mom and dad were still taking their turns occasionally but they were mainly spending more time alone together, which was great.

He reached down and pushed Lorna’s hair aside so he could watch her pretty mouth as she slurped it up and down just as he liked it. Meanwhile, the tip of Rachel’s little pink tongue was deep in his dark locker.

A cup of coffee and his bowels would loosen up nicely.

He felt his thighs tightening and his balls reaching the point of no return. First one of the day was always thick, hot and plentiful. Like oatmeal.

“Don’t swallow.” He murmured down to Lorna.

Her lips encircled his shaft tightly as he pumped three, five, seven jets onto her tongue. Her cheeks puffed and her doe-like hazel eyes stared up at him intently.

He pulled Rachel from his asshole and put their faces together.

“Okay, swap my jizz, ladies. Each to the other and back as usual.”

He watched them trade the pearly drool; drip and catch, catch and drip, brunette to blonde and back again. They were starlets of the internet doing this although they didn’t know it yet. There was nothing even the combined forces of John Cumber and the Feds could do once those clips were circulating on the world wide web. And inevitably even these chicks’ supposed friends wouldn’t be able to resist taking a surreptitious naughty peek at them in action !

 

*** *** ***

 

 

It was 03.08 by the digital clock when the phone rang.

John Cumber picked it up in the dark. There was a tiny echo.

“Oh dear, John, I can hear those tracking people from here. Goodbye.”

 

At breakfast, two days later, the phone rang again. Walt Furness had reluctantly agreed to pull most of the surveillance and monitoring in the meantime.

“Morning John.”

“Good morning.” He said, as politely as he could muster.

“That’s better. Call me Sir, will you. I prefer that.”

“ … Okay … Sir.”

“Better all the time. We’re going get along fine after all.”

“Please … tell me about my family … Sir.”

The Cumber share price was limping along at the 9 dollars level and had now closed below 15 dollars four days in succession.

“They’re fine, John. Susan’s here now actually, sucking me off.”

He ignored the taunt, although he couldn’t prevent the obscene image of his wife and Charlie Victor raping his mind.

“They’re all alive ?”

“Of course. That was only a joke about the share price. Gotcha, hah ?”

“I’ve paid you the money.” John replied. “I’ve apologised. I’ve begged for mercy. Please free them … Sir.”

“John, you fucked our lives for twenty years, mate. You really think a couple of weeks is all it takes to get even ?”

John Cumber started to sob, his voice came out in a high squeak.

“Please …”

“Excellent John. Real tears ! Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He couldn’t speak, his throat and chest bawling.

“Okay John. You just cry and listen. I read in the Wall Street Journal that you’ve still got a fistful of Cumber stock. What I want you to do is give it away to charity. The lot. Do something good with your life, John. Then maybe I’ll do something good to you in return. Nice talking.”

 

*** *** ***

 

Charlie smiled as Melanie put her chin on his chest and looked up into his eyes. Her fingers softly cradled his balls.

“Anything left in here for me ?” she asked coquettishly.

“But of course, my love.” He replied. “In just a sec.”

He turned up the volume of the TV. It was tuned to CNN.

A female reporter was standing on the main steps of the Cumber Corporation Headquarters. Melanie twisted her head so she could enjoy the news too.

The report was brief and to the point. Obviously in the days to come, numerous commentators and analysts would rush to praise, criticise, explain, interpret and generally spout unnecessary verbiage.

“So it has been confirmed that John Cumber,” the identikit blonde reporter said, wrapping her piece, “has amazed the world by giving what remains of his entire fortune to five Foundations and Charities. He has retired as of today from corporate and public life and announced that he plans to spend the rest of his years in poverty, working unpaid in a not-for-profit organisation. This is Leonora Carter for CNN.”

 

Charlie hit the mute button and smirked over at Susan Cumber. She was kneeling on all fours by his side of the bed, staring silently at the screen.

“He did it, eh ? Gave it all away. Must really love you.”

Melanie chuckled. “I wonder what he’d say if he knew you’re having an affair with a donkey.”

Susan didn’t move or respond. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

Charlie pulled Melanie’s face up to his and kissed her.

Mmm … he loved this woman, kinky bitch as she undoubtedly was. He always thought of himself as the hard one, but Mel had proved harder. It would still be a long time before Susan was shown any mercy.

“Put on the DVD.” She purred, turning her attention back to his genitals, running a teasing finger up his veined, swelling shaft.

He pressed the remote, switching from CNN to the DVD and pushed ‘Play’. Still Susan Cumber didn’t react, despite what appeared on the screen. Her obedience training was coming on apace.

The previous evening had been the cruellest so far, culminating with the first bestial session. He had once seen a whore in Mexico paid to have sex with a donkey. But this Ethiopian ass they had purchased was a ‘donkey cock’ of donkey cocks; and the stubbornest, smelliest, ugliest and best endowed brute that ever brayed.

Mel’s head lay on Charlie’s stomach, tonguing his erection as she watched the screen. On it, Susan was kneeling underneath the donkey, sobbing. The beast of burden was clearly keen to shed its load ! Several jeering mercenaries were in the background, holding it still.

Charlie pressed the ‘volume’ button louder.

The donkey’s shaft was comparable to Charlie’s forearm. Hairier, sure, and maybe not quite as thick around, but pretty similar. He watched the recording of Susan’s pink tongue slurping over the glistening crown through her tears and grimaces.

“You’re going to have to work on that technique.” He called down to her.

Mel’s teeth nipped him gently.

“Not you !” he laughed. “Her.”

He shut his eyes, enjoying the feeling, listening to the loud playback of the excited ass braying and the crescendo of excitement.

A few minutes later, when Mel had sat astride Charlie, riding his dick, he peered around her perspiring bouncing body at the screen.

Susan Cumber was now strung into a hammock and she had been mounted by the donkey. Somehow her increasingly slack pussy had managed to absorb its full length. In fact, afterwards she had required a couple of stitches down below from Wolfgang before the good doctor set off home to Switzerland.

The split screen mode showed two views simultaneously; a side-on picture of the fucking itself, and then a close up of her tormented face. He wondered how much was pain and how much shame ?

An interesting question. Maybe he would get Susan to write a coupla thousand words essay on what it feels like to be fucked by an ass. They could all then debate it with her and her kids, perhaps post their responses on the net ?

He tore his eyes away and smiled up at Mel, reaching to thumb her hard, excited nips, knowing his woman was only seconds from her climax.

While Susan Cumber still knelt motionless, listening to two people make passionate love and staring at herself on the screen.

 

*** *** ***

 

 

It was exactly 04.00 in the morning when John Cumber’s bedside phone trilled. He picked up the handset and fumbled it to his ear.

Music was playing down the line. A song. Vaguely familiar.

 

“Ah, the last time we saw you, you looked so much older

Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder.

You’d been to the station to meet every train

And you came home without Lili Marlene.”

 

He recognised the singer; Leonard Cohen.

“Yes ?” he muttered into the phone. “Hello ?”

There was no response other than the continued playing of the song.

 

“And you treated my woman to a flake of your life

And when she came back she was nobody’s wife.”

 

He knew the song now. From the early seventies; 71 or 72 maybe. It was called ‘Famous Blue Raincoat’ and it had been playing the evening he raped Melanie Jones.

John Cumber wiped his moist eyes with the back of his hand in the dark.

 

“Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes

I thought it was there for good so I never tried …”

 

“John ?” a male voice suddenly interrupted, as the music cut.

“You there ?”

He snapped out of the reverie. “Yes … I’m here.”

“You listening to the words, John ? You remember ?”

“I remember.”

“You treated my woman to a flake of your life, John.”

“Ch … Chuck … I’m terribly sorry. I was young … we were young …”

“And when Melanie came back she was nobody’s wife.”

“I know. Please … please tell Mel I’m desperately sorry too.”

“Tell her yourself.”

There was a pause. The rustle of a phone being passed.

“Hallo, rapist.”

He didn’t even recognise her voice but he knew it was her.

“Mel … I’m sorry. Please. But spare Susan and my children. They had nothing to do with it.”

There was another, longer pause.

“You’re right, John.” He heard her reply coldly. “It wasn’t their fault. But it is their karma. And now their every day is like … survival.”

John screwed his eyes shut and held his breath. He had to keep control.

“Please let them survive.” He pleaded. “I’ve done everything you asked. Every last penny. I’m a broken man. You’ve won.”

“To the Victors the spoils, huh ?”

He stayed silent. Not wanting to agree or disagree with her.

“You want a choice, John ?”

“ … Alright.” He responded, uncertainly.

“Here it is. You can either have all four kids back now and never see Susan again. That’s Option One. Or you can have five back in one year’s time. That’s Option Two.”

He felt his heart beating like a hammer and struggled for breath.

“That’s the deal. No fucking about this time. No ‘Trust Us’ lies. We’ll keep our word. So, it’s up to you, John. You’ve got ten seconds to make up your mind. Four now … or five in a year’s time ? Option One or Option Two ?” Her voice asked.

John Cumber clutched his pumping heart in pain. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t choose. Ten seconds, nine, eight …

“This line goes dead forever in five seconds.” Her tone was cold.

He knew she meant it.

How could he decide ? Three, two …

 

 

*** *** ***

 

Author’s Note

 

Up until a few days ago, the story ended here. With the fate of the entire Cumber family uncertain and John Cumber clutching his heart, a ten second countdown to who knows what ? As I stated at the beginning, ‘Best Enjoyed Cold’ would only contain eight Parts. I had no idea what the future beyond this point held for the Cumbers or, for that matter, for Charlie, Mel and Lennie either. As far as I was concerned, Revenge had been eaten and enjoyed.

 

But after I posted Parts 4 and 5 (and after reading people’s comments), I started to think about the characters’ futures and a possible Sequel. I even had a title (“Some like it Hot”) and gradually an ending came to me. In the event, I decided that I didn’t have the motivation or the material for a full-blown Sequel. However, I did have sufficient for an Epilogue.

 

Therefore I will be posting the final Part (9) that contains a Complete Version of the whole story (with typos corrected) and includes an Epilogue, entitled “Nine Lives”.

 

Finally, I am grateful to all those who have either reviewed my stories or sent me feedback via the email author facility. It is always more rewarding to know what people think, rather than simply posting stories into an empty void. I have several works in various stages of progress including a Sequel to ‘After the Pestilence’ (“Beyond the Pestilence”) and a Sequel to ‘A Special Relationship’ (“A Special Weekend”) plus two entirely new stories. Coming (reasonably) soon ! Velvetglove.