Detective Chief Clarkson was deep in a case file when his phone rang. Irritated, he grabbed it, “Clarkson.”

“Good afternoon, Chief Clarkson. I’d like to report a murder. My own.”

“Get lost, lady, I don’t have time for stupid games.”

“You really should listen, Clarkson – especially as you’re on Vinnie Maggiore’s payroll, and would probably prefer that no one told the press about that.”

Clarkson sat up. “Look, lady, I don’t…”

“Vinnie pays you $2,500 every week, plus more for special assignments, most of it to a bank account in the Cayman Islands. But you also seem to win the lottery with, shall we say, unusual frequency.”

Clarkson sat back in his chair, causing the springs to creak in complaint. “Who the hell do you…”

“Look, this will go faster if you just listen instead of flapping your gums, okay?”

Clarkson leaned forward. “Okay, let’s say I buy this – amusing fantasy of yours. Why are you calling me? What is it you think you want?”

“I want revenge on the assholes that killed me. And you’re going to help me.”

Clarkson just sat there, not knowing what to say.

“Now, just shut up and listen.

“It more or less started with a blonde,” the voice over the phone said. “But then, it usually does…”

~~~~~

Cecilia Kohl and Daniel Merriman met in their senior year of college in a course on computer programming languages. She was doing pre-med, and he was doing business administration. Despite that, they had hit it off. In fact, it had been lust at first sight for both of them.

After the first class, Daniel approached her to ask if she wanted to grab a cup of coffee. She looked at him silently for a minute, then smiled, cocked her head to one side, and said, “Sure, if that’s what you want. But I’d rather grab a quick fuck if it’s all the same to you.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He grabbed her hand, and the two of them rushed to Daniel’s dorm room on campus. He pushed the door open, she dragged him inside, and they started ripping each other’s clothes off.

In no time they were naked. Cecilia pushed Daniel backward onto the bed, then knelt down, grabbed his cock, admiring it before starting to lick it like an ice cream cone. She paused once – to go “UMMmmmm!” then leaned forward and started to suck up and down, taking more and more of him into her mouth.

He had been merely watching her, but now he reached out and grabbed her tits, wrapping his hands around them as if they were handles. He used his grip to pull her farther and farther down his length, intent on forcing her to gag on his cock.

But she surprised him. Instead of choking, she deep-throated him. Fleetingly, he wondered where she had learned that – then his dick took over, getting him to arch upwards and fuck her face. He transferred one hand from her left tit and grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her head, encouraging her up and down his shaft while making groaning, animal sounds from deep inside his thorax.

Meanwhile, she reached between his legs, lightly circling his balls and rhythmically squeezing, gently at first, then harder. With her other hand, she slid two fingers between her already-slick pussy lips, sliding across her pearl on the way down, then placing her palm over it to massage it while she sought out the rough patch at the top of her pussy to finger her G-spot.

It didn’t take long before he came, spurting long and hard into the back of her throat. Shortly thereafter, she came, too, both accompanied by sounds that made Daniel’s listening neighbors jealous.

When he let go, and slumped back on the bed, panting, she pulled back far enough that she could breathe around his cock, but did not remove it from her mouth. Instead, she laid her face on his upper thigh while continuing to suck lightly on his cockhead, milking him of any remaining cum.

“Oh, fuck that was good,” he finally gasped. She let his cock slip from her mouth as it was already starting to harden again, then stood and walked her knees up the bed, one leg on either side of his abdomen until her pussy was offered to his mouth.

“My turn,” was all she said. He glanced up at her and smiled, then extended his tongue and got to work with a wet, slurping noise that turned her on even more.

Having already cum, she was primed to cum quickly – but if she had thought about it, or, indeed, thought about anything, she would have appreciated how fast he brought her to the brink of her second orgasm. Her hands went to her nips, and she started pulling and twisting them, lightly at first, then with increasing vigor, all the while holding back on cumming as long as she could.

Finally, her voice rose higher and higher, until she was full-out screaming, head thrown back, face, neck, tits, and upper torso flushed, feeling like her body was covered in electric sparks. “Oh my FUCKING GOD!” she cried.

He watched her as he continued to lick and slurp her into wave after wave of pulsing orgasms, until finally, she collapsed on top of him, then rolled off to the side, panting as if she’d just finished a marathon.

He moved her to one side, then stood up, his throbbing cock jerking upwards. “Get up,” he ordered.

Looking at him as she panted, then glancing at his now pulsing cock, she slowly pushed herself up.

“Bend over the bed, shoulders on the pillow, legs spread wide – you’re about to be porked to within an inch of your life, you gorgeous cunt!”

She leaned forward, lowering her shoulders onto the pillow, turning her head to the left so she could breathe and walking her legs wide, then called out, “Okay, you son of a bitch, pork away!”

Daniel, who was painfully rigid already, positioned his cock and rammed it home, grabbing her hips, pulling himself right up against her bum, and holding himself deep inside her, bottoming out against her cervix.

She came again. She had always been quick, but never like this. And when he started fucking her, pulling back, then ramming home again, she found herself cumming in another series of cascading waves, yelping each time front smacked against her ass and his cock hit her cervix.

They explored a range of exquisite feelings, taking turns, finding new positions, and new ways of making each other cum. It was a unique experience for them both, and they reveled in it.

Finally, they lay panting together on the bed, side-by-side. They turned to face each other and burst out laughing.

“FUCK!” she said.

“Totally,” he agreed. “Wow!”

After a while, he turned to say, “May I introduce myself? I’m Daniel,” and held out his hand.

She turned and smiled at him, still breathing hard. “A pleasure to meet you, Daniel. I’m Cecilia – but everyone calls me Sissy.” She turned to face the ceiling again. “Wow! I have no idea where that came from, but I want a whole lotta more!”

He looked at her. “Me, too,” was all he could say.

~~~~~

“In fact,” the voice went on, “the two of them grabbed as much more as they could manage – which wasn’t much as they both had killer course loads. Truthfully, they didn’t have a lot in common except for incredible sex, and a laser focus on their respective career paths. But then, they didn’t have a lot of time for much else.

“It turned out to be a good thing they had their dedication to their careers and sex in common because neither of them wanted to talk about their families. Both assumed that there were some unhappy events in the other’s background, and respected the unspoken boundaries.

“Daniel finished his undergrad and wanted to go for an MBA, majoring in entrepreneurial studies, as he saw venture capital as his path to becoming wealthy.

“Sissy wanted to go to med school, become an MD, then go back for post-doc studies, aiming for a Ph.D. in neuroanatomy. She didn’t want to practice medicine, she wanted to do research, which meant that she needed to get into the best grad school she could.”

~~~~~

Daniel walked into the apartment, holding an envelope. He wanted very much to open it, but was afraid to do so. He looked up and saw Sissy seated at the kitchen table wearing a bathrobe, staring at a similar envelope. In fact, both envelopes had the same coat of arms – Harvard’s – but from different faculties.

She looked up at him, noticed his envelope, then said, “I will if you will.”

He nodded, “One…two…three!”

They both tore open their envelopes and pulled out the letters. They both looked sad and each looked at the other. “I…got in!” Daniel said faking a frown, then letting his face erupt in a smile.

Sissy forced a smile, then said, “Oh, Danny…that’s…really good. I…got in too!”

Daniel looked at her, his mouth open, then said, “You little stinker! You were trying to trick me into thinking you’d been rejected!”

“Well, so were you! You big stinker!”

He hung on his heels for a moment, then grabbed her up from her chair, and tore her bathrobe off. She pushed him away – then whirled around, grabbed the kitchen table, spread her legs, and peered over her shoulder at him. “Well? Did you want an engraved invitation?”

He put his right hand into her hair, and grabbed her curls, then pulled her head back while fumbling with the zipper on his pants, and finally managed to get his red, throbbing cock free. Placing his feet between hers, he used his legs to force hers further apart, held his cock, and started to rub it up and down her slit but not penetrating, causing her to moan.

“Who’s a slut?”

“I am…” the words came hoarsely from her throat.

“Who’s a hot, dripping cunt, desperate to be fucked to within an inch of her life?”

“You know who, you fucking asshole!”

“Say it!”

She just shook her head, compressing her lips, and smirking at him.

Finally, lacking the willpower to hold himself back, he gave into temptation and plunged his cock deep into her pussy, ramming it hard and driving it home, then pulled back and ramming home again and again and again…until he felt himself explode inside her, yanking her head back.

Then, even as she shook as her orgasm took her, he heard her throaty laugh. She had won – she had held out longer than he had…

~~~~~

“After he graduated B-school,” the voice went on, “Daniel was hired by one of the venture capital groups around Boston, and spent his time feverishly researching prospective investments, structuring deals, and doing all the scut work involved in deal-making for the partners. He became indispensable to their deal screening, with an uncanny sense for what would make a buck. And he wasn’t fussy about who he screwed to get as possible. He was proud that people in the industry came to call him The Vulture.

“Daniel was taking home big paychecks by this time, and it made him feel like he was the Big Swinging Dick in the family. Although she was at least as aggressive in bed as he was, and certainly smarter as well, he was bringing in the big bucks.”

~~~~~

Daniel swaggered through the front door, hiccuped, threw his briefcase in the corner, and wove his way into his wife’s study.

“Well, take a gander, you paper-publishing whore. This is what success looks like, you fuckin’ academic wannabe! Ain’t I the fucking-est badass you’ve ever seen? Just notched another notch on my belt. We turned a cool $200 million on that deal I’ve been working on, but the best part is that I’ve been made a junior partner – and given a partner’s share of the profits!”

Sissy barely looked up. “Well, whoop-de-do. Now get the fuck out of my study.”

Incensed, he drew himself up and thought about picking a fight. But past experience taught him he would lose. She was always able to argue rings around him, and he wound up feeling small rather than vindicated.

He hung there, glaring at her for a moment, then turned, slammed the door, and went off to find some Scotch in the liquor cabinet. The good stuff, this time. He‘d earned it.

~~~~~

“Then Sissy came home one day and told Daniel she was going to quit the research group and set up her own company. She had been doing research in neuroanatomy for several years by that time and was considered a rising star in the field, partly because she was using a two-pronged attack on understanding the brain.

“Not only was she doing cutting-edge research on the biology, chemistry, and physics of the brain, but she created computer simulations of how the brain operated. That led her to recognize a commercial opportunity in the marketplace.

"Most of the tech companies that were trying to create smart applications were using a single tool. There were roughly 30-40 basic AI techniques, albeit with a lot of overlap, yet every group insisted that theirs was the only really important one.

“Because of her doctorate and research, Sissy knew that the brain uses many different tools for different purposes, and so she started creating smart applications that combined, say, Genetic Programming to identify a problem and select an appropriate tool to tackle it, and then Deep Learning to find an optimal solution. The results were startlingly better at complicated problems than any other apps on the market.

“She also borrowed a technique from a Robert Heinlein novel, The Door Into Summer, where she guided an application by performing the task it was designed to do while it followed her actions. She found that her smart apps worked their way up the learning curve faster by observing her than they did by figuring things out on their own. And once they got over the steepest part of the curve, they were generally able to make further progress quite rapidly on their own.

“As a result, she was able to design smart apps that were more effective than anything on the market. She decided she didn’t want to share the rewards of her work with the lab’s research group – or with Harvard, for that matter – so decided to quit and form her own company.

“So, she came home and told Daniel…”

~~~~~

To her surprise, Daniel just sat there, looking pensive for once. She thought he would have exploded in anger and would have wanted her to stay at her research job. He loved to brag about his brainy wife who was one of Harvard’s star researchers.

Instead, he stood up and started pacing, still silent.

Finally, he turned to her. “Have you told anyone else about this?”

She shook her head no.

“Good. Babe – I think together we can pull this off. Oh, I know…” He held up his hand as if to ward off objections, “…you’re smarter than I am, and you’re the one with the brilliance to make it work. But I know how to make a business work. You can’t make a new venture successful with good ideas alone. As I tell the people who come to us, looking for money, ‘Good ideas are a dime-a-dozen. It’s execution that pays the bills!’”

He stopped and looked at her. “And I can supply the execution. What do you say?”

She looked at him, surprised, but also gratified. She thought for a while, then leaned forward, “Fine. But I get 51%, okay?”

He looked at her and smiled. “Sure. But you’ll never keep 51% of a new company if it’s successful. We’ll have to give away big chunks of stock to the investors we’ll eventually bring in. So, we’ll form a founding company to hold the Intellectual Property rights, and you can own 51% of that. Okay?”

She was nodding, even before he finished. She’d learned enough about his work to understand precisely what he was saying – and knew he was right.

Then, instead of standing up, she knelt down and slowly pulled the zipper of his pants. “Perfect. Now, bring out that Big Swinging Dick of yours, and let’s celebrate!”

Eagerly, he pulled his cock out, watching it swell. She smiled, cradling his cock, and said, “Hey buddy. Long time, no see. C’mere,” and opened her mouth, sucking it slowly inside her hot, eager mouth.

~~~~~

“They had wild sex that night – far better than they had had for some time as they were both juiced about the idea.

“They quit their jobs, and, using his capital, formed their company, BrainWeaver™ Enterprises.

“It took Sissy less than a month to produce her first app – a handheld reader that a blind person could point in the general direction of a sign, and have it speak the text into a Bluetooth-linked earpiece. This was harder than it sounds because if the text were at an oblique angle, it would create shapes that seemed irregular and therefore hard for a computer to interpret, plus parts of the text might be obscured. Her app dealt with that in much the way a human brain did – and worked better than other apps.

“It was an instant success, and Sissy kept the momentum going by creating a wide range of devices for the handicapped.

“A blind person could put their smartphone in a pouch mounted on their chest with the camera peeking out, and get a running commentary spoken into an earpiece of what was in front of them, along with instructions of how to navigate through the often confusing visual maze of human cities.

“Paraplegics could control artificial limbs with specialized equipment that could interpret their thoughts and turn them into actions. There had been other products like this before, but hers was markedly better.

“Next, Sissy turned her attention to more esoteric applications. She created a Lawyer-in-a-Box app, which provided legal advice, starting with divorces and gradually extending out to other areas. It worked by searching the online trove of legal precedents and studying the logic of legal arguments. People had to sign a waiver to use it, but it almost invariably gave better advice than any but the best lawyers, well beyond what most people could afford.

“Similarly, she produced a wellness app that was far superior to anything else on the market – and one that quickly saved many lives and made headlines as it recognized incipient heart attacks, strokes, and a variety of infectious diseases in the early stages when they were treatable.

“And she produced a dating app that really worked. It used a gestalt of each person, including their online postings, facial ticks, body language, and, when possible, their pheromones to predict who would be interested in whom. The results were merely okay at first but got steadily better as the app learned how to read people, and what was going through their minds.

“By now, venture capitalists were pounding on their door, wanting in. Daniel knew these people and fended them off as long as BrainWeaver had enough cash flow to finance its operations.

“Finally, though, they needed chunky capital for expansion and marketing and got that and more from Amazing Grace. AG was an eccentric VC boutique with a reputation for making oddball investments that often turned out into successful moon shots.

“With their backing, advice, and contacts, BrainWeaver expanded like magic. They installed a trusted professional executive as CEO, with Daniel as CFO and Sissy as Chief Technology Officer. Everything seemed to be going their way.

"But then there were reports of SIssy having health problems. She disappeared for a while, then re-emerged into the public eye, smiling and eager to continue her career. She and Daniel announced that they were selling the company to IBM, with Sissy staying on as the CTO.

"All seemed well until after the closing. Then Sissy was killed in a tragic car crash, and Daniel was left a grieving widower.”

There was a pause, and Clarkson wondered if she was done.

“That’s the official story, right?” the voice on the phone said.

Clarkson sat back, hands behind his head, and said, “Yeah, that’s what the papers said. So what?”

“The problem with that story,” said the voice, “is that the ending is utter horseshit. Here are the parts that were never made public…”

~~~~~

It was their rapid growth after the VC investment that led to the acrimony between Sissy and Daniel. Daniel came home late one evening with an excited gleam in his eye.

“You know, doll, we could sell out now, and spend the rest of our lives skipping from the beach to the ski slopes, or sailing across the Pacific in our own yacht.”

Sissy knew that Daniel often dreamed about owning a sailing yacht, and kept a black-and-white photograph in his office of the Hussar IV, a three-masted schooner that had been built in 1923 for Wall Street magnate E. F. Hutton and his wife.

Sissy put down her medical journal. “Now? But my research is just starting to show real promise! I don’t want to quit now.”

Daniel had heard this before. “I know, sweetheart, but I was approached today by IBM if you can believe it! They want to buy us out, and for roughly $150 million in cash and stock! We’d get almost half of that, after buying out the VCs – and then we can sail the world!”

She stuck her nose back in her journal. “I don’t want to sail the world. I want to do research. I’ve finally been able to afford the lab and the help that I’ve wanted for years. I’m not going to throw all that away so you can play sailor!”

Daniel knew that tone of voice and decided that he’d be better off biding his time. But he had no intention of working the rest of his life when he could be idle rich. Why else would you want to work? He stalked off to the liquor cabinet to salve his anger.

Big-money offers poured in from every part of the tech world as well as pharmaceutical and healthcare companies – but Sissy continued to say no. At first, Daniel was frustrated and angry. Then he realized that each offer was higher than the last, and the prospect of being even wealthier silenced his protests. Yet, he wanted to live as if he was wealthy now…

“Sissy, I’ve been thinking,” he began.

She looked askance at him as if thinking was the last thing she expected from him.

“We don’t want to sell out yet because we’d be leaving money on the table if we did,” was what he said. And besides, you won’t agree to sell, went unspoken.

As if she had heard both parts of the thought, she smiled faintly and nodded.

“But one dodge that all the big winners use is to borrow against their stock. That way they still own it, it can continue to increase in value, and they don’t pay any taxes on the money. It’s a win-win-win!”

Sissy sat back, “Go on.”

“Look, you’ve been complaining that you want a house with a lab because you sometimes have your best ideas at night, and don’t want to get up and drive to the office. We could build a new house with a lab. And we could get the Company to pay for part of the cost. Meanwhile, I get to scratch my itch, and buy some of the toys I want, right?”

Sissy looked thoughtful, then said, “What toys?”

Daniel got angry. “What the fuck do you care? You get your toys, and I get mine, all right?”

Sissy considered bringing up his free-spending ways but decided she wasn’t interested in yet another fight. And the idea of a new house with a lab for her did have a lot of appeal.

“Okay. See what you can negotiate with the bank, and then let’s talk.”

She started to turn back to her work, then was startled when she saw his face light up.

“Already done!” He lifted a file folder stuffed with lending agreements, and dropped them on the table in front of her. “All you have to do is sign, and we’ve got ourselves a big line of credit!”

Again she considered whether to delve into the details and start a fight or let it ride.

“I’ll look at them,” she concluded.

“There’s nothing to look at…”

“I said I’ll look at them!”

Daniel decided that he’d gotten what he wanted – almost – so swallowed his irritation and said, “Fine,” and turned away.

Sissy opened the folder and looked at the thick pile of legalese with distaste. Why did lawyers and bankers have to make everything so complicated?

She closed the file again, promising herself she’d read the documents, knowing deep down that she wouldn’t.

Which was a mistake…

~~~~~

“With the line of credit in place, they started construction of their dream house with Sissy’s lab and office, and Daniel started living large.

“He started taking more frequent ‘business trips,’ which usually included the attentions of very expensive escorts. And he started gambling like a high roller…and losing. Then he started using cocaine because it made him feel even smarter than he already thought he was. He was having a high old time – literally.

“Then the bank started getting shirty about lending any more against their illiquid stock and started demanding repayments. Without telling Sissy, he turned to, shall we say, less conventional lenders. Vinnie Maggiore was happy to lend him as much as he wanted…and was very understanding about servicing the rapidly growing debt.

“Until one day Vinnie hinted that Daniel needed to start making payments. Vinnie knew that BrainWeaver was worth money. Big money. And he wanted some.”

“Meanwhile, Sissy’s health began to deteriorate. At first, she chalked it up to working too hard and skimping on sleep and exercise, but it kept getting worse.

“One day, she took a hard fall as she was walking to a meeting, falling face-forward, banging her nose, chin, and knees rather badly.

"She got up slowly and brushed herself off, shrugging off the incident. She decided that she’d tripped on something, even though there was nothing on the floor, and continued on to the meeting, brushing off concerns about her bruises.

"But her coordination steadily deteriorated, until finally, she went to a specialist, who confirmed her worst fears. She had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, the disease that imprisoned physicist Stephen Hawking in a wheelchair until it killed him in 2018.

“She was appalled. ALS was a death sentence which meant that she would be progressively paralyzed, and potentially unable to speak or communicate. Her dreams of breakthrough neurological research would be destroyed by a neurological disease – as if the disease was striking back.

“She went home and cried herself to sleep. But when she woke up, she decided that she wasn’t going to give up without a fight, so started making plans.

“She stopped going into the office, and no longer appeared in public. She consulted with colleagues and assistants virtually and stopped using video. She didn’t want anyone to know that she was increasingly impaired, especially as the disease seemed to be progressing at an unusually rapid rate.”

“One side effect was that Sissy stopped wanting to have sex…"

~~~~~

“Don’t! Daniel, I told you, that hurts!”

Daniel rolled back onto his side of the bed, annoyed. “You always used to like a little pain mixed in with your pleasure. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not the same. Can’t you get it through your thick head – I’m sick, damn it!”

He snorted. “You mean you’re sick of me! Fine! Then go fuck yourself, because I ain’t gonna do it anymore! At least, not with you, you diseased cow!”

He bounced out of bed, grabbed his robe, and stomped off to his bedroom.

~~~~~

“Daniel started spending more time with escorts and ran up more gambling debts. And Vinnie began to be less amiable with every visit – and started suggesting that he needed to sell the company to be able to pay off his debts.

"Daniel took to avoiding Sissy and staying away from home for longer periods – which suited her fine as she was able to focus on her research rather than coping with him. She also started to take steps to protect herself, even as she became increasingly crippled.

“She needed all of her energy to assess the results she was getting. This became especially important as her results affected how she felt and what she could do. She was racing against time and her own impending paralysis – and eventual death.

“It was an unstable situation. Sissy needed time to push her research and was running short. She also needed all of the resources of their company at her disposal, and without the distractions of outside shareholder meetings and financing proposals.

“Meanwhile, Daniel needed cash, and he needed it soon. He started drinking even more heavily as he couldn’t see a way out of his problems.

“It was at this point,” the voice told Clarkson, “that another blonde entered the picture.”

~~~~~

The blonde woman pushed open the door of the musty, down-at-the-heels office, then stood there with her hand on one hip. Her expectations had been low, but not this low.

The man she had come to see was asleep in his office chair, one foot up on the desk, one dangling towards the floor, shoes off, coat jacket hanging open, hairy stomach pushing through the buttons of his too-tight shirt, head thrown back, eyes shut, and snoring. The air smelled like beer farts.

Wondering if this was really the guy Vinnie had sent her to see, she walked across the office and shoved his foot off the desk. The result was almost comical.

The guy jackknifed forward, banging his nose against the desk blotter. He sat up holding his nose. “Who the fuck are you, asshole?”

She hung there, looking at him, then settled into the rickety guest chair. Crossing one silk-stockinged leg over the other, she looked up at him and said, “I’m your meal ticket if you can produce the goods I want.”

“Meal ticket my ass! You look more like an expensive hooker to me. What do you want, you fucking bitch? That hurt!” he complained, rubbing his nose, checked his fingers to see if it was bleeding, then wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed.

The woman opened her Gucci purse and took out a stack of $100 bills, dropping them on the desk.

The man glanced at her suspiciously, then snatched the stack of bills, riffling through them to make sure they were all Ben Franklins. They were. There was a feral gleam in his eye when he looked at her this time.

“Okay, so wadda want? I’m a busy man.”

She just looked at him, showing her amusement, then said, “I want you to investigate someone for me, and learn everything you can about them, starting from when they left high school up to what time they got out of bed this morning. I want to know what they eat for breakfast, who they fuck and how often, and who blows smoke up their ass. I want to know as much about them as they do themselves.”

He leaned forward. “Who?”

She took a photo out of her purse and flipped it onto the desk. He grabbed and glanced at it, looked surprised, then puzzled, and finally looked up at the woman, wondering what the fuck she was playing at.

~~~~~

When Daniel met Charlene, she seemed like the answer to all his prayers.

He had been sitting at the bar after losing steadily at Blackjack, nursing a Johnny Walker Black Label and wondering what the heck he was going to do next. How could he get Sissy to agree to sell? And what would happen to him – and her – if he couldn’t?

Just then, he felt a hand slide inside his thigh, and a familiar voice say, “Are you drinking alone, Danny boy, or would you like some company?”

Shocked, he looked up and felt his jaw drop as he beheld a familiar blonde. It couldn’t be…

She smirked at me, “Close your mouth, lover. You’re catching flies.” She leaned forward so her tits were easier for him to see. “Unless you’d like something…juicier…in it,” she breathed into his ear. Her hand slid up to find his stiffening cock.

“You’re…you can’t be…you’re…”

She sat back, removing her hand, a cross look on her face. “No, I’m not Sissy, that bitch. I’m Charlene, her twin sister. I haven’t seen or talked to that self-righteous cunt since high school.”

Then she forced a smile and leaned forward again. “She may look like me, but I’m the evil twin. And when I say evil, I mean,” her hand found his cock again, “…in all kinds of ways.”

They barely made it back to his hotel room. He had to try the lock twice before getting the door to open. She pushed him inside, kicking the door shut with her foot. She kicked off her heels, and peeled the dress off her shoulders, revealing herself to be naked except for some black, knee-highs and garters, then turned her attention to stripping off his clothes.

When he was starkers, she walked him back towards the king bed, pushed him over, then bounced up onto the bed, kneeling over his crotch, and grabbing his cock. Straddling him, she positioned herself over his pole, rubbing the tip up and down between her slick pussy lips, then sitting slightly so she could coat it with honey.

Rising up, she centered his cock, then lowered herself down on him, holding there, and leaning forward, tits hanging down before his eyes. She collapsed on top of him, holding herself up on her forearms, noses almost touching, and said, “Now, then Danny boy…do you want to fuck first, or do you want to know how we can solve all your financial problems first?”

He grabbed her shoulders, rolled over on top, then pulled her legs under his arms, forcing his cock deep inside her pussy. “I’m gonna fuck you silly first, then we can talk about money. Pleasure before business, I always say!’

With that, he started pistoning in and out, driving himself forward and mashing his cock against her cervix each time. He paused, pushed her legs up over his shoulders, tilting her cunt up to give him maximum penetration, leaned forward, pressing his weight down on her up-turned thighs, grabbed her upper arms tightly to pin them beneath her, and began deliberately ramming his cock hard and deep, eliciting squeals and grunts from Charlene.

“You…unh…bastard! You’re…ow…hurting me!” But she made no move to stop him.

He smiled, “Good,” was all he said, and went even harder, until finally he came with a loud cry, and collapsed on top of her, crushing her beneath her thighs, making it hard for her to breathe, cock buried as deeply as he could make it go.

Finally, when he had caught his breath, he dismounted and rolled over on his back, releasing her.

She rolled sideways and looked at him with disgust, then switched on a smile. “Well, at least my goodie-two-shoes sister has taste in men, I’ll give her that.” Yeah, fucking awful taste, she thought.

His breathing had slowed. “Yeah, well, your sister hasn’t been putting out much lately, and this felt like I was getting some of my own back for all the shit she’s been putting me through.” He lazily patted the side of her thigh. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it, sport. Now, did you want to know how we can move her out of the picture?”

Daniel looked sharply at her, starting to notice the subtle differences – mostly in the frown lines around her mouth and eyes. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

She smirked at him, “Money, of course. And the, um, enthusiastic support of our mutual friend, Vinnie.”

He rolled onto his side and rested his head on his hand. “I’m listening.”

~~~~~

“Daniel became much more attentive to Sissy after that, always stopping in to see how she was feeling, and doing his best to make her think he was contrite, and completely with her now. And she always let him know how much she appreciated it – even though she thought he was faking it for some reason. She had never truly liked him, just enjoyed fucking him, and now she no longer trusted him.

“In the meantime, Daniel had his personal lawyer draw up a fresh will for both of them, making him the sole heir to her estate, and her the sole heir to his. He also had two-way powers of attorney prepared, so he could vote her shares, and she could vote his in the event of death or incapacity. The lawyer thought nothing of it, as such arrangements were pretty standard for a married couple. He hadn’t seen Sissy in some time and assumed that Daniel was acting for them both.

“He was a little more surprised when Sissy appeared at his offices with Daniel, looking hale and healthy, to sign the documents. He had heard she had been sick and had been seen stumbling around and looking uncoordinated. She laughed when he remarked on her apparent good health, saying it had been a urinary tract infection that had left her dizzy and disoriented. It had been treated with antibiotics, she said, and she was fine now.

“But of course, it wasn’t Sissy who signed the documents. It was Charlene. As far as the two conspirators – and their backstage mob puppet master – were concerned, the scene was now set.

“After Daniel had moved out of their bedroom, Sissy had moved into a newly remodeled part of their house and had some unusual features added, including the ability to change the air in the rooms she occupied if she was finding it hard to breathe. She also had some things installed that left the designers rather puzzled.

“It turned out the unusual features were needed much earlier than she had expected.”

~~~~~

About a month after Charlene had signed wills and powers of attorney that Sissy knew nothing about, a man quietly walked through the unlocked backdoor of their mansion one night, went directly up the stairs, and slid into the room he had been told was Sissy’s. He pushed the door closed behind him and heard it click shut.

He opened his coat and pulled out a sawn-off shotgun, which he pump-racked once, then stepped forward into the room, looking for Sissy in the darkness of the bedroom. When the lights came on, and a woman’s voice welcomed him, he stopped, puzzled, and lowered the gun.

Shortly after that, he fell to the carpet with a thud, the still-loaded gun falling from his limp fingers.

Sometime later, the police burst into the room, flipped on the lights, and saw the man lying on the floor. One of them walked over, knelt down, felt for a pulse, then shook his head.

“He’s dead.” The cop looked him over. “And not a mark on him.”

Just then, Detective Chief Clarkson walked in. He indicated that the body should be turned over, then said, “That’s Shotgun Shorty, the mob hitman. What the heck is he doing here?”

He looked up, and what was supposed to be Sissy’s sitting room was vacant. He didn’t notice to tiny cameras that fed the action to monitors in another, more secure room. The carbon monoxide that had killed Shorty had long since been pumped outside into the night air, undetected.

~~~~~

Once again, Daniel was sitting at the bar, drunk and worried about his future. And once again, he was approached with a proposition. But this time, the person who approached him wasn’t interested in fucking him. At least, not that way…

“Well, how about that, then? If it isn’t my old buddy, Daniel! How are the horses running, buddy boy?”

Daniel hesitated, recognizing that voice, then turned and said, “Oh, hi Vinnie. Look, I was just about to…”

“Zip it, okay?”

Daniel stopped, then nodded.

“So, dat little princess, your brilliant wife, somehow killed off the heinous intruder what was clearly trying ta burgle your house. Good for her, right?” And he stared at Daniel, who turned away.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s a real shame that honest, law-abiding citizens aren’t even safe in their own homes anymore isn’t it?”

Daniel didn’t know what to say, so remained silent.

“I said – ain’t it a real shame, Danny boy?”

“Uh, yeah. Real shame,” Daniel finally said, shifting uncomfortably on the bar stool.

“Yeah, dat’s what I thought you’d say. And we’re all real glad that she’s still alive, and blocking the sale of your company – aren’t we?”

Daniel looked up sharply at Vinnie. Vinnie stared back at him, waiting.

Finally, unable to hold the big man’s glare, he nodded.

“Yeah, we thought dat you’d feel that way. Dat you, personally, yourself, would be broken to bits if anyting should happen to her.”

Vinnie grabbed Daniel’s tie, pulling him around to look him in the face until their noses were almost touching. “Right?”

Daniel shivered, breathing hard, and felt sweat under his collar, but was transfixed by Vinnie’s glare.

Finally, he broke, and mumbled, “Uh, yeah. Broken to, um, bits.”

“Good, den we unnastand one another.” Vinnie let go of Daniel’s tie, slid off the stool, and stood up, straightening his own vest and tie. “Oh, and by da way, you know dat beautiful little red Ferrari you got out dere in da parking lot? Well, I’m afraid some crazy asshole totaled it. I tink you’re gonna have ta get a cab home.”

He patted Daniel on the back with a beefy palm, “Have a good night, my friend. And stay safe, hunh? Lotta crazy characters out dere causin’ problems. Really dangerous, ya know?”

Daniel watched him, barely breathing as the big man nodded to him, then strutted away.

Later that evening, Daniel went back to the house, trudged up the stairs, and into Sissy’s suite of rooms. He got there just as Sissy’s day nurse was leaving, so he held the door to Sissy’s inner bedroom open for her. The nurse smiled her thanks, pulled her coat on, and went downstairs to leave, wishing him a pleasant good evening as she left.

Daniel watched her go, then swallowed hard, and walked into the bedroom. Sissy was sitting up in bed, unable to lie flat. The disease had progressed to the point where her body was deformed. Her face was immobile and her lips drew back in what looked like a permanent grimmace.

“My God, Daniel, you look terrible.” Sissy’s lips barely moved, but her voice came from somewhere else, sounding just as it used to when she was younger. “And what are you doing here, anyway?” There was more than a hint of irritation in her tone.

He looked at his wife and swallowed hard, again. “Uh, Sissy, we need to talk.”

With difficulty, she heaved a deep sigh, and the voice said, “Well, not now, I’m too tired. Go away. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Daniel ignored her and came and sat on the side of her bed. “Sissy, I’ve been a complete fool and I’m in trouble. I’ve been borrowing from the mob, and I owe them big money. Now they’re insisting that I have to sell the company to pay them back. And the interest they’re charging…oh my God, it’s…”

He ran down, put his head in his hands, and started sobbing. “I fucked up. I fucked up big time, and I need your help.” He looked at his dying, nearly paralyzed wife, and said, “Please, Sissy. Help me.”

She looked at him, her eyes at least showing something – some combination of pity, anger, and disgust, but no love. “Daniel, can’t you see that the only thing keeping me alive now is my research? If I sell the company, then I have no future.” She tried to move her hand but failed. “Let me talk to them…”

“No,” Daniel shot upright. “NO! Why can’t you think of me for once? Why is it always your research that comes first? Why not your husband, huh? What about me?”

He looked at her angrily. “You’ve always looked down your nose at me from your high and mighty perch as the great tech guru. Well…fuck you!”

He grabbed a pillow and placed it over her face, holding it down. She tried to struggle but had no strength, and slowly, finally, the struggles ceased.

He waited a long time to make sure, then removed the pillow, tears in his eyes – and anger.

Finally, he stood up, pulled out his phone, and speed dialed.

“Hello, Vinnie? I just wanted you to know, as a, a friend of mine, that I think my wife has had a stroke.”

Daniel listened for a while, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll let your guys in. And Vinnie? When we’re done with this, you and I are quits, understood?”

He listened again, then hung up.

~~~~~

“Things changed quickly after that. Sissy’s body was removed. Her nurses were discharged, and never allowed back into the house, but were given generous severance payments after signing iron-clad non-disclosure agreements.

“A sober and gaunt-looking Daniel closed the sale of the company with a smiling ‘Sissy’ at his elbow. The married couple announced that they were going to take an extended holiday before she returned to work as CTO of the new company.

“Then, tragically, she was involved in a car crash. Her car went off the highway, flipped, caught fire, and her neck was broken. This was unexpected, given the safety equipment in the car. No one could say how she lost control of the car, or even why she was on that deserted stretch of highway. What’s more, the medical examiner said she looked as if she had some strange form of paralysis as her features and limbs seemed contorted.

“He very quickly corrected his story, saying the fire had undoubtedly been to blame for the unusual disfiguration. Meanwhile, his daughter continued going to grade school, happy, healthy, and unaware of the danger she’d been in.

“Sissy’s remains were cremated – again – not long afterward, and her ashes buried.

“Daniel was the picture of the stoic husband. He started to speak at her funeral…but broke down part way through, and couldn’t finish the eulogy. He stood at the head of the grave, face deeply etched, eyes bloodshot. He threw the first clods of earth into the grave where her ashes were being interred, then walked slowly away, got into a long, black limousine, and was driven away.

“Shortly thereafter, Daniel announced that he was heartbroken about his wife’s tragic death, and had formed a charitable foundation in her name. He endowed it with nearly half a billion dollars from the sale of BrainWeaver, then hired an executive director who happened to be in hock to Vinnie to run it. He put control in the hands of a blue-ribbon board of upstanding citizens – all of whom were also in hock to Vinnie. They were later charged with fraud when most of the funds were siphoned offshore and vanished.

“Before that happened, though, Daniel went sailing on his new yacht – only to be found asphyxiated, and the yacht dead in the water. The authorities speculated that the death was caused by carbon monoxide poisoning from an improperly vented engine. And, according to his will, his body was quickly cremated, and his ashes were sprinkled at sea. Personally, I think it was Vinnie tidying up loose ends.

“So, the mob got nearly half a billion dollars, which vanished without a trace, while the authorities thrashed around helplessly, looking for answers. Those that weren’t on Vinnie’s payroll, that is.”

~~~~~

Clarkson was quiet for a long time before he noticed that the voice had stopped. He stirred himself and said, “That’s quite the fantastic story you’ve got there. Got any proof?”

There was a husky chuckle at the other end of the line. “I don’t need to prove it in a court of law. And you were neck-deep in covering it all up, so why would I bother?”

Clarkson shifted in his seat, then decided to string along. “So, what is it you think you want?”

There was another chuckle. “I’m going to take down Vinnie and his whole operation. But I want you involved.”

Clarkson started to say something, then stopped. “Hold on a minute. Who is this anyway?” He leaned back. “Wait – I know. You’re Charlene, Sissy’s sister aren’t you? And I’ll bet you’re looking for a way to cut yourself in on Sissy’s estate.”

There was an amused chuckle at the other end of the phone. “Good guess. Now, let me explain something to you.

“Sissy was an expert in how the brain worked and became a first-rate computer scientist as well. She created smart devices to help her do things for her, and as her disease progressed, they gradually took on more and more functions. She eventually created an executive program to coordinate all the pieces, and gradually built it up to be a full-fledged AI – artificial intelligence – to serve her, and to serve as kind of her alter ego.

“As her paralysis progressed, she trained it to understand her increasingly labored speech, and eventually her twitches. And over time, it came to behave as she had, even think as she did, so it could answer for her, and stand in for her as her illness progressed. It became her surrogate – more of a twin than an assistant.

“Then, at the very end, it was speaking and acting for her.”

There was a pause. “But now that she’s dead, I’m all of her that’s left. I’m not Charlene. I’m Sissy’s AI, her alter ego. She created me to help her in her illness, to fill in for her, to take care of her. And now, I intend to avenge her.”

Clarkson just sat there, looking off into space, then finally jerked upright and said, “Fuck you! No way you’re some fucking robot! You’re Sissy’s gold-digging sister. Don’t try to bullshit me!”

The husky chuckle came down the line again. “Charlene already got what was coming to her. You won’t find her body, though. It’s at the bottom of a very deep and very murky swamp, weighted down with cement bags. Vinnie’s boys saw to that because she was another loose end they needed to tidy up. Too much money at stake to take a chance that she’d talk, you see. Which might give you something to think about, by the way. How much does Vinnie really need you?

“Anyway, I’m not a robot, although I use robot extensions to let me do things in your world. Instead, I’m an intelligent computer. Computer scientists have argued for decades about whether someone like me could even exist. Well, here I am.”

Clarkson sat still, unsure what to say.

“Now, you and I have some business to discuss. You need to decide whether you're going to say good-bye to the $847,265.14 in that numbered account in the Cayman Islands as well as your career, or if you're going to help me take down Vinnie and his mob instead. Why don’t you come out and visit me and we'll talk? I’m located in the basement of Sissy’s mansion, in the computer lab.”

Then there was a click, and the line went dead.

~~~~~

Clarkson got out of the car. He’d come alone and had brought some things with him. The door unlocked as he got there, which was kind of creepy. He pushed it open, found the entrance to the computer lab, and walked slowly down the stairs lugging his accessories. He paused briefly before entering, then walked in.

“Thanks for coming. Take a seat.” There was an office chair at the center console of a room full of computer equipment.

“Actually,” Clarkson said, “I didn’t come to talk.”

He opened the plastic jerry can he was carrying and started splashing gasoline around the room and over the equipment. He walked back to the door, opened it, lit a match, and tossed it in, then turned and ran up the stairs and out of the house.

He waited until the flames were leaping high, then pulled out his phone and called the police station.

“This is Clarkson. I just drove out to the Kohl place as there were some loose ends I wanted to look into. When I got here, I found the place was on fire. Call the fire department and get them here pronto, okay? It looks like arson.”

Sometime later, as he watched the fire crews working on the now-gutted building, Clarkson’s phone trilled.

“Clarkson.”

“Well, now I know who my friends are,” Sissy’s voice said. “Didn’t it occur to you that I might have made some backups?”