Hey, It's Payback Time, Ex-Husband

Benjamin Forster

The day was almost over, just a minute or so before I would finally be free to do what I wanted, but somehow, in some fucked up way, some person manages to barge in at the time I least expect them to. "Fucking hell," I muttered to myself as another knock on the door brought me out of my reverie. The day was almost over, and just a minute or so away, I would finally be free to do what I wanted.

"Mister Forster?" When I had nothing else to do, I would usually distract myself with Vivian, the gorgeous redhead secretary that I had recruited.

“Yes? "This better be worth the over time I am not getting paid for," I grumpily asked her while glancing at my watch for effect. She appeared both embarrassed and sheepish as I responded to her in a rude manner, but this is what they are used to seeing from me because I am the kind of boss who is "no bullshit, no nonsense."

"There is someone here, his name is Mister Stella Sanders, and he is representing the private military corporation known as "Surge Tech," which is a company that we do business with. "According to him, the situation is critical"

As I tried to piece together what was going on in my head, my thoughts kept drifting to the underlying need of me wanting to kick back and start drinking in a pub somewhere while I tried to recover the memory of what I had to do with this Stella Sanders. My thoughts flitted past like butterflies as I tried to piece together what was going on. There are a lot of things going through my head, and that is the reason why I am the most powerful magnate in Los Angeles. It is because of these things that I was able to maintain a firm grasp on the reins of power, even as everyone else below me shook with fear.

I eventually recalled the transaction that we had been going through, so I told her, "Ah, I see." It had something to do with a shipment of weaponry to a nation in the Middle East, which his men will use to assist some men in combating a developing insurrection in the region. There were a few problems with it, and the FBI was listening in closely on the agreement. They have stated that they will not hesitate to intervene if they believe that we are putting the safety of the United States at risk. "Let him in."

Jenkins entered the room looking like he had been through a lot, stressed out and frazzled, yet despite his appearance, he exudes an air of authority.

"Mister Forster, it is fantastic to finally meet in the flesh," he informed me with an accent that seemed like it was coming from Europe. He extended his hand, and I firmly shook it. "The level of intensity that I bring to the table personally could not possible be contained in any of the video sessions that we had"

I responded with "Stella," ignoring the honorific he had previously used. "Well, if that's the case, then this must have something to do with the FBI keeping a close eye on our shipments, doesn't it?"

The man chuckled as though I had told a really good joke, and then he said, "Ah yeah, yes, your country's Bureau or whatever they want to be called." We have an agreement with them that states they are not allowed to touch us as long as we stay out of their path. This is completely unrelated to anything else, Mister Forster."

I searched my memory for the appropriate response, but I was never informed that the FBI issue had been resolved. Those employees in my "Intelligence" section are going to receive a little reprimand in due time. "Ah yes, sorry, there's been a lot on my plate recently. I haven't been able to keep up with everything that's been going on, but obviously the FBI has been taken care of by now. But what is this whole new thing? "What exactly is it?" I questioned him with the expectation that he would not notice that I had smoothed things up in order to give him the impression that I was unaware that the FBI issue had been resolved.

"There is some type of politician here that wants in on the transaction, and he will send us another shipment of weapons to give to our people over there, but he wants me to make sure that you are in on it," the person said. "I want to make sure that you are in on it." Jenkins remarked to me while I was trying to take in the information that I had just been given and he smiled at me.

I cast a cursory glance at the clock and saw that barely three minutes had passed, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. The desire, the need, and the lust for alcohol, for booze, and to live recklessly started to tighten on me, but I buckled my thoughts up and smiled sweetly at Stella Sanders. I felt as though I had lived a lifetime.

"Is this for a deal that will take place behind closed doors, or is this going to be official?" I smiled in response to his question, and he rolled his eyes in response, which was the deciding factor in the situation.

"Very well, Mister Jenkins. I will let the people below me know about the new arrangement that has been formed with "Surge Tech," as well as the fact that covered shipments are about to come, and that they will most likely be transported to the same area. Jenkins gave me a reassuring smile when I said that I had "struck the nail on the head" with that statement.

"Yes, I think that would be wonderful. Jenkins said menacingly, "Remember, Mister Forster, everyone's reputation is at stake here, and we do not wish to hit any more snags as we have heard reports of some people in your company snooping around on our 'private' shipments," and I almost flinched as he said it because it was a veiled threat, there was a rumor going around about corporate espionage going on, and I still had not managed to get on It was an issue that needed to be fixed, but I have a lot of time to do it now.

I stood up from my seat at the table, and Jenkins, interpreting it as a hint that the meeting was coming to a close, did the same thing. He shook my hand once more before leaving the room. As he tossed the fresh stack of papers onto my desk, he had a sly look in his eyes that suggested he was hungry.

After a cursory review, I discovered that it would bring in an additional three billion dollars in revenue for my organization. What a steal, right? I put my signature on the documents and then gave them to Vivian, who waited until I had left for the day before she would go anywhere else.

I instructed her to "Bring this to the correct channels, this is under the table, so quiet," and as I left the company, finally ready to get my party on, she simply nodded silently in response. "Bring this to the proper channels, this is under the table, so hush."

—- The bar that I typically went to for late-night drinks was really busy today for some unknown reason, and there were a lot of people there. As I made my way across the dance floor in search of my regular table, which was usually reserved for me, the pounding roar of the music muffled the wild and boisterous slurring that they were engaging in.

When people noticed who was strolling among them, several of them did a double take. These peons, pissants, or whatever they are definitely appreciated the attention they received from staring. The strobe lights that flooded the space were not able to disguise my identity; yet, I did not care because it was irrelevant to the situation. Who was going to give a damn if I went out partying, drank some alcohol, and had a good time? My wife? You've got to be joking.

I walked by a man who said, "Oh, Mister Forster!" as I did so. As I did so, he shamelessly prostrated himself before me while pulling at my leg. I attempted to move it away from him, but he had such a grasp on it that I thought the fabric may be ripped if I tried any further. "Please, I was let off from your company just today, and this is the only thing that's keeping me afloat in life."

Although I was able to make out these terrible remarks despite the loud music that was playing in the background, I did not feel any empathy for him as I looked down at him. He had an unremarkable appearance and did not stand out in any way, which meant that I was not familiar with him or whatever he performed. A poor grunt who was most likely let go by a boss at one of the organizations that fall under my umbrella.

"How is it any of my business?" When I responded with sarcasm, he tightened his grip on my leg, which annoyed me further. I was giving him the finger. I didn't come to this place to listen to some whimpering wretch dump snot all over my well-tailored jeans; I came here to have fun. "I do not even know you," the speaker said.

As he continued speaking, he swallowed his pride and embarrassment and said, "Please, sir, I need this job to support my family."

As others began to notice what was going on, they began to stare; thus, it was imperative that I take the appropriate action before the situation became much more precarious than it already was.

I tell him in a severe tone, "This is a pub that caters to the affluent and well-to-do. How are you here then, if you would cry about feeding your family?"

I made a move toward a bouncer, and he recognized me right away and looked over to see what was going on. Instantaneously, he moved in my direction. The man struggled violently while the bouncer held him aloft as if he weighed nothing, and the bouncer continued to hold him.

"Come along gently now," the bouncer calmly remarked, unperturbed and undisturbed by the man's attempts to free himself from his grasp. "Don't annoy the other guests," the bouncer said.

I gave the bouncer a little tap on the shoulder as they were leaving my area, and as he came around to face me, he saw that I was taking something out of my pockets.

I did not make an effort to find out his name because everyone already knew mine, and that was all that was important. "For you, Bouncer," I told him. For situations exactly like this one, I had a couple of hundred dollar dollars stashed away in my pockets, and he accepted them with gratitude. I turned to him and stuffed a handful of these hundred dollar notes, which added up to potentially hundreds of dollars, into his pocket while muttering, "For you, loser."

Since I was a regular customer, I was given my own honorary place, and because I did spend a significant amount of money at this establishment, the proprietor personally bestowed upon me the right to use this particular booth as my own. The room made way for me as I continued to walk through it, and my table was already waiting for me there. It was the ideal VIP booth in which I could have my own personal space.

She was wearing a revealing dress that cut deep into her own chests, and her cleavage was literally demanding for me to delve in, but I had to contain myself since I wanted a drink first. "Mister Forster," the hostess cooed. She was wearing a revealing dress that cut deep into her own chests. I couldn't be bothered to learn her name, so I just grinned at her instead. She had strawberry blonde hair, and the cherry red outfit that shimmered perfectly complemented her. I could already see the men around the booth almost undressing her with her gaze, but this was mine to do with as I pleased.

"It's wonderful to be back," I remark to her in a light-hearted manner as I settle into the plush velvet chair with a cushion, thinking to myself that it's been a long time since I've been this relaxed. "Well, since we're here, why don't we have my standard?"

The young lady flashed a grin as she waved her palms in front of the bartender, who was already fully aware of what I ordered as my "regular" —-

Her lips parted my mouth, and I could feel her attempting to lick every area of my mouth. Meanwhile, her hands were stroking me and rubbing at my chest, my thighs, and my dick, which was starting to become more firm. She was stroking it quite vigorously; the booth had been locked off, and no one would dare to peep into Benjamin Forster's very own private VIP chamber. I was able to get her off the couch and place her on the table with very little effort, and she chuckled the whole time, as if she found it amusing to be dominated in this manner.

She spoke to me in a lustful tone and smirked at me as I separated her legs and positioned myself in between them. "Well, someone's playing rough today," she remarked. "Well, someone's acting rough today." But the desire and the impulse to do so abruptly vanished from me as thoughts of my wife began to pour into my brain at the same time as the new agreement, which was starting to sound frenetic due of the involvement of the politician who must remain nameless.

My rage, combined with my intoxicated thoughts and the alcohol that was already in my veins, began to make my erection weaken, so I dropped myself back down on the couch, and she sat up, looking a little bit dissatisfied with what she saw.

She questioned me while gently stroking my face, "Augie, are you okay?" as I turned my head away from her.

I did not reply to her as I proceeded to consume the beverage in front of me. Once more, the booze gave me a rush, but all I could do was stare around pityingly, as if I had completely lost the desire to drink at all.

After consuming one drink after another in complete quiet for an hour, I eventually left the establishment, somewhat wobbling as I signaled to Preston, a driver whom I had on standby for times when I was having one of these drinking binges, to take me home.

I wanted a break from everything, but as soon as I remembered what a hot mess of a woman I would have to deal with when I got home, I started to feel the wrath building up again.