Chapter 4

“So, that’s it for the day, all of the cases that we could reasonably tackle for one afternoon. I don’t know about you, Annette, but I don’t approve of loading up an extreme workload and wearing the body out over something that can always be dealt with tomorrow. Too many lawyers, myself included, used to wear themselves thin in the past, and for what? If the Mayhem has taught us anything, it’s that life is fragile. We have to embrace it. Democracy might be dead, but we aren’t, are we?” Deputy Commissar William Hepburn, “Bill” to his friends, encouraged his new assistant, Annette Chambers, to stop working for the day.

“Why is democracy dead now? Just curious,” Annette inquired, hoping that Hepburn wouldn’t take offense at the query.

“Because Leviathan had to finish it off once he took over, and frankly, it failed. America, the UK, much of the English-speaking world had become failed states in the wake of the Mayhem, as had so many others. You saw this in action recently. Remember the wholesale massacre that happened in Lubbock just six months ago, part of why guns now have to be registered? Those guys took over an entire block of town and slaughtered three thousand people? Admittedly, they were neo-Nazis, but you get the idea.

“There was a similar incident in Muncie, Indiana, with those radical feminists who killed and castrated ninety-eight men before they were stopped? It got less press, but it was serious business. Yeah, Leviathan rose to power because the social contract was broken and democracy was the god that failed us all. Look at Italy, you got that rogue bastard General Barbacia seizing large chunks of real estate there as a warlord, and I don’t think that he’s going to stop anytime soon. Better Leviathan than someone like Barbacia, trust me. At least here, you have the rule of law. Barbacia just lines people up against walls and orders his firing squads to shoot,” Hepburn observed, making Annette shudder in response.

“Yes, sir, I definitely take your point. Better dictatorship than anarchy, and better a sane dictatorship with some kind of legal framework and protection than a warlord who summarily executes dissidents. Italy, of all places, who’d have guessed it? Italy! I’ve wanted to go there for years as a tourist, but now I might be an old woman before I make it there safely, if ever. Italy’s now effectively an occupied country under this madman’s rule, isn’t it?” Annette confessed her desire to visit Italy sometime in her lifetime, largely due to the romance of the idea.

“Oh, I imagine that Italy will settle down soon enough, but it will be at a price. Barbacia will win. Mark my words. He’ll take power throughout the country, maybe beyond it as well. You’ll be visiting a future Italy under one-man-rule. Military dictatorship, plain and simple. He’ll ease up on the executions once his regime has stabilized. This isn’t a Hitler, Stalin, Lenin, or even a Mussolini. The brutal summary executions are a means to an end, the end being to scare any resistance into surrender.

“Those other guys kept killing people after they took power, because they intended to purge and purify society, to cleanse it like Robespierre of any perceived taints or blemishes. He’s not an ideologue, just a wannabe Caesar. That’s very different. His regime will be authoritarian, yes, but not totalitarian,” Hepburn concluded, even as he caressed Annette’s left cheek with his hands.

“God, I hope that you’re right. The sight of death squads in Italy, of all places, is very chilling to my bones. It’s the last place that I would have expected such things. Incidentally, did you hear the reports that there was a nuclear device set off in Pakistan? Is that true? I hope that, especially since they could then nuke India in response. I don’t know, but it sounds very terrifying to me,” Annette shivered, even as Hepburn slid his hand up her skirt and felt for the dampness that he could smell.

“Relax, babe. Yes, it’s gonna be rougher environmentally, but climate change is already fucking a lot of things up and is a large part of what brought the Mayhem, as you know. It’s especially bad for the locals, but I have it on good authority that what the Indian commander did was to eradicate the missile sites in Pakistan that threatened India, nothing more than that. It was what is called a ‘counterforce’ strike, meaning that it targeted silos, not civilian population centers.

“Don’t get me wrong, plenty have died and will die as a result, but the death toll won’t be as high as you might think and Pakistan won’t be able to retaliate effectively. Both nations are collapsing, anyway, as we speak,” the Deputy Commissar reassured Annette, even as he pushed the crotch of her panties aside and played with her twat.

“So ... no nuclear winter or anything crazy like that, I hope,” Annette probed, unsure of that issue, even as she felt his fingers slipping inside her slit to pleasure her.

“No ... no nuclear winter, at least from what I can see. It’s not good, but it won’t go that far. Now, let’s stop talking about such unpleasant things, missy. No more shop talk, either. Let’s clock out and have that date ... at my place. And you’re going to cook for me. When you’ve done that, we’ll see what comes next, alright? Now, taste yourself on my fingers. You know that you want to do it. Aren’t you curious?” Hepburn invited Annette, who felt chills down her spine as she licked his fingers clean of her own juices.

“Damn ... very good! I actually taste good! I never would have guessed that. My ex told me that my pussy stank like a fish, which was why he never went down on me. Personally, I never saw what was so wrong with the smell of fish, anyway. What about you, sir?” Annette responded as Hepburn slid her panties down and stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Oh, me? I love the smell of fish! I’m Creole on my mother’s side. Long story there. Anyway, let’s clock out and ditch this place,” the Deputy Commissar invited her, taking her hand in his as they exited the courthouse.

“This isn’t ... you know, against the rules anymore, then?” Annette wondered aloud.

“No, honey, not by a long shot. New rules, new laws, new playbook. It’s a brand new day for all of humanity and civilization. Trust me on that. Leviathan’s shaken everything up and is restructuring society in ways that will transform it for generations to come. The old paradigms just don’t work anymore and you know it. You’ll see what I mean, but one big change is that the old rules about human resources and workplace romance are out the window. We’re not doing that anymore. Same with ‘morality clauses.’

“Half the people that you’ll meet in life are colleagues, subordinates, or supervisors. Ruling them out because of mistakes and risks is just plain stupid. It cuts your potential partner pool too far down,” Hepburn told Annette, as he opened the car door and let her into the passenger side of his Jeep.

While in the Jeep, Annette admired Hepburn’s package and found herself craving more than a little of that inside her sooner rather than later. Every turn, she licked her lips and ogled both the Deputy Commissar and his unit, eager to feel that fine, thick cock inside her body. Her ex-boyfriend had been one of two partners in her life, the other one being her “dirty secret,” a married man who had been far better in the sack than the ex. She had cheated on her ex with him out of frustration, the ex had found out and broken up with her, and then the ex told the wife.

Oddly enough, that marriage survived while their relationship didn’t. His loss, not mine, Annette thought as she recalled going back to Tony a few more times for the hell of it. She bet that Jared never learned of that, did he? Annette missed how Tony felt down there, going balls deep inside her twat, a nice, stiff Italian prick that stretched her just right. Jared had just been a very average guy in far too many ways, mediocre at sex, insecure, and jealous and possessive as fuck. Ironically, Jared had later ended up in Trudy’s divorce court, and in spite of herself, Annette had secretly helped him avoid the shaft that he might have otherwise endured.

Once they reached Bill’s home, he picked Annette up and physically carried her inside, much to her satisfaction. Contrary to his plans, the Deputy Commissar was hot and bothered enough to lift Annette’s skirt and grab her cheeks, spreading them apart to devour her sweet ass. Annette didn’t see this coming at all, with this tongue action driving her crazy within seconds as her new lover rimmed her. She bit her lower lip as she felt that tongue glide over her asshole. It was so much intense pleasure that she couldn’t help but moan and grab the nearest furniture, her knuckles white with the force of her ecstasy.

“No ... no one’s ever done that to me ... not even Tony, though he wanted to ... he just never got the chance. Fuck ... yes! This is ... amazing!” Annette panted like a bitch in heat as Hepburn licked her booty and showed her no mercy at all.

“You like that, do you? Then taste your own ass!” Hepburn directed Annette, pulling her head toward him to slip her some tongue for a steamy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Damn ... my butt’s not bad, either ... you’re going to do this ... often?” Annette pleaded with that question, clearly hoping for the answer of “yes.”

“If you love it, I’ll do it, babe. I enjoy the taste, I can tell you that. Thanks for keeping your crack clean. It helps a lot. You want more?” the Deputy Commissar teased and taunted her a little, making her squirm and quiver.

“Yes ... please!” Annette cried out as she creamed herself from the oral service given by Bill.

“Good, because after supper, we’ll have to do so more of this ... and other things. Now, you’ve whetted my appetite, babe. Let’s see what you can put together for dinner. Maybe I’ll have some more ass for dessert. Your bottom is certainly delicious!” William Hepburn told his new lover, ripping off her top and tearing her skirt in half to leave her naked as a jaybird.

“Well, then, I’d best get cooking!” Annette raced to the kitchen, knowing little about it, but feeling eager to have her new lover catch up to her.

When his companion put on the apron, however, she noticed one thing about the place ... it was another woman’s kitchen. William Hepburn wasn’t single. He didn’t live alone at all. Who else lived there with him.

“Sir ... are you married?” Annette wondered aloud, making him laugh.

“Alright, honey, you can come out now! The surprise is blown, the cat’s out of the bag! You really want to rim this one, baby! She’s got the sweetest ass I’ve ever tasted in my life!” the Deputy Commissar turned to his wife, who stepped out from the pantry.

“Clarisse Hepburn, meet my new assistant, Annette Chambers. Annette, meet the missus. My wife, Clarisse,” Bill introduced his spouse to his clerk at last.

“Oh, and just what’s wrong with how my ass tastes?” Clarisse turned with mock jealousy to her husband, winking at both of them, “Clarisse Gonzales Hepburn. Pleasure to meet you and welcome to my kitchen, especially if you’re cooking tonight. You’re in for a treat tonight. I think that you’ll find that my booty’s pretty scrumptious, too. My pussy’s not bad, either, or so I’ve been told. Just wait until we get to share this fine cock and drain his balls together.”

“Honey, I meant a tie, okay? Just chill! And, yeah, she’s rather yummy, too, dear. Trust me, Annette. Tonight isn’t just gonna be a threesome. It will be one that you’ll crave again and again. But for now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get it on with the wife while you cook something for us. Don’t worry, we’re not vegans or vegetarians or anything like that. Down-home cooking is a great place to start,” Bill told his clerk as he took his wife into his arms and gave her a kiss that still tasted of Annette’s butt.

“Oh, fuck, you really did rim her, didn’t you! Thank you! She’s very sweet, just as you said! Just don’t forget that I’m your wife ... I have a feeling that she might end up moving in with us, though. It’s gonna rock! By the way, you haven’t had Tex-Mex until I’ve made it for you, honey! It was Tejana cooking as much as Tejana booty that drew him in now, wasn’t it, papi?” Clarisse made it plain that she was a classic Latin wife in some ways, as she lifted her skirt and bent over the kitchen table for her hubby...

After all, to Clarisse, nothing was better than hubby’s dick ... nothing ... not even pussy ... not even ass! Annette would soon find out for herself how it was to share a stud like William Hepburn. The man’s ex didn’t know what she gave up, that much was clear, but Clarisse did ... and Annette would.