V.N.P.

(A/N: Patreon.com/TheGreatestHunter. Need this one say more?)

...........

'Carol wants the Gilbert Journals. I want the crystal. She knows I possess the Gilbert journals. She does not know she possesses the crystal.

Naturally, this means, she gets nothing.' I thought to myself as we sat on that couch and I came to a decision.

Originally, I was just going to use the journals as a way to broach a conversation and gain access to the house, without the need to interact with any bitch betas.

However, the number of advantages that can be gained and the amount of access to so so so many things, such as the ability to just call a fucking party at the drop of a hat and gather people in one location, are just too good to pass up.

Therefore, it's only proper manners that I throw Mrs. Lockwood a quick roll in the hay.

It's the right thing to do.

"Yes, Jeremy. We can talk." Carol said, a little slower than she probably meant to. Her eyes still laced with questioning and caution. Though, the level of intrigue and interest made them seem small in comparison.

"Come with me, then. There's something I want to show you." I said, as I stood from the couch, keeping one of her hands in my own, as I noticed a slight frown cross her face. No doubt, wondering just where this was leading, but following all the same.

I lead her upstairs. My familiarity with the house evident in the fact that I had attended quite a few events here in the past, only making sure to stay out of the way, and leave as soon as possible.

But that doesn't mean I, like anyone placed in an unfamiliar place with a whole bunch of shit to touch, did not explore the area as pre-Jeremy, and remembered the way.

The walk was quick.

The stairs were several.

But, we made it upstairs nonetheless.

I immediately took a left. My brain supplying me with the place that most resembled the one where the box was kept as I came upon a door and reached out for the handle. Only for Carol to jerk my hand causing me to stop.

I looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"That's my husband's office. Why do you want to go in there?" She asked. Her tone filled with curiosity and her mind more than likely attempting to reestablish some command of her self.

But, that's not happening though.

I stepped to her, as I pulled her hand a little to keep her in place as that patented Gilbert smirk of danger that Klaus and Damon thought was theirs, appeared on my face as I got right up in front of hers and then past it to place my lips near her ear. My breath tickling her as I spoke and she went stiff.

"Did you think I didn't notice?" I asked her, as I pulled back to meet her eyes and swiftly grabbed her by the chin, slightly lifting her head to be level with mine. And at the same time noting that I was slightly taller than I was before the lightening strike and filing away the face that I couldn't tell, for later. "You called me Jeremy. Now, you have to be taught a lesson. And what better place to do that, than in your husband's office?" I finished. Asking a question, but not waiting for the answer, as I took her frozen body and pulled her with me into the office.

The interior and décor matching what I remembered seeing in the episode.

My eyes quickly scanned the room as soon I entered. Noting every single detail and capturing every angle, only landing on the wooden box itself for longer than a second before I continued my scan.

'No cameras. More than likely no listening devices, nor motion sensors, since this doesn't seem to be the place for valuables. It's reasonable to assume such things would be enabled during a party in a room with the door closed. However, Damon came, compelled, and left, and the mayor was never the wiser. I should be in the clear, however I'll have to do a sweep and place a few devices of my own, whenever I get them, just to be sure he's not aware of me being here.'

"Close the door." I say to Carol as we walk in and I keep my back to her. Hearing it, as the door closes. The only sound heard in the room are the deep, somewhat even breathes that she's taking. No doubt, if I were to turn around, I would see her chest heaving.

There's just something about a powerful, uptight woman...or man for that matter, that craves a good session where they are put in their place. Perhaps, something about letting go of the tension they carry around all the time and just being at the mercy of the world...or in this case, Me.

That is, right up until they have their fill, and then they are usually giving just as good as they get. Or at least that's the case with women. Not sure about men. Will have to check though, just in case I ever have to allow a woman to play dominatrix and me walking in the shoes of some uptight businessman who needs a release and I have no idea how I'm supposed to play that part. Research, after all, is 70% of disguise work, so if I have to let a woman have her way with me... then I will just have to jump on that sword like a true hero.

"You called me Jeremy." I state. My tone low and heavy, leaving no room for a response nor questioning.

I turn to face her. My face and eyes, a mask that reflects my thoughts on exactly how I see her. Her response? Her breaths become shallow and faster. Picking up speed and becoming rapid, as she sees something that she probably has never seen before, unless online.

Small towns don't really provide a woman with the release she might need in certain cases.

But I will.

I point at the desk at my side.

"Place your palms there. Hands and feet shoulder width a part."

I watch as she does it quickly. Noting the way the somewhat form fitting dress that she no doubts just wears around the house, and slippers on her feet form a contrast that I find appealing. Like she just stepped inside from a long day of doing boss shit and is now being served up in the comfort of her home. The perfect way to unwind after a long day.

I step up behind her, but slightly off to the side. My hand landing on her waist, producing a quick shiver from her at the unexpected touch, as she looks back. Her eyes glazed over, as her mind no doubt cycles just about every time she's touched herself to this very image of herself bent over a desk about to be manhandled.

"Your husband..doesn't give you what you need?" I ask, as I slowly rub my hand across her lower back from the side of her waist.

"N.No." She says. Her voice heavy, like her throat is clogged.

"What does he do?" I ask her, as I slowly allow my hand to go lower. Coasting over the top of her ass check on the opposite side to where I stand, as I let my hardened length just barely come into contact with her side. Just enough so I know she feels me.

"We..get straight to the point. Like its business." She says. Her eyes gaining a hint of clarity and anger. No doubt thinking about just how unsatisfied she's been. But don't worry. I've got her.

"All business. Well, you know, this is business too." I say, which causes her eyes to meet mine. Just as a bring my hand that wasn't rubbing her body, all the way down from the high point where I had it in a curved arc, as it met her soft, yet firm backside. No doubt honed from a whole lot of spin classes or whatever women her age do to keep it tight.

'And tight it is,' I think, as I let my hand be glued to that ass, as I give it a squeeze. Her yelp and then very low moan akin to a growl is all the answer I need to know that this will be fun for us both, as her head snaps forward and then hangs down as she rolls it back and forth like Stevie wonder. As far as far as bodily responses go in regard to a spanking. I would say that was damn near perfect.

I let my mind wonder about the maid who let me in and if she is aware of what's going down. But then, I immediately dismiss the thought. There's no way a woman like Carol Lockwood would not have her household completely under her foot, I think as I give her another firm slap.

"You called me Jeremy." I say right after.

*Slap*

"What's my name?"

"Mr. G.." *Slap*

"I couldn't hear you. What's my name?"

"Mr. Gilb" *Slap* *Slap* "Mhmmmm."

"I can do this all day, Carol. But it seems like you're not taking this seriously." I say, and harshly pull her dress up and over her ass from the bottom, as I watch her ass jiggle. Soft and firm, indeed.

She looks back at me. Her dazed mind no doubt wondering what I'm going to do next. I give her the answer.

*Slap* "Eyes forward."

"Now, what's my name?" *Slap*

"MR. GILBEEERRRRRTTTT" She yells out. Her body convulsing and shaking. No doubt cumming with an intensity that can only be matched by her determination to be the most proper bitch in the room at any gathering.

I simply stand back and watch, as her legs go weak and she sinks down. Crouched in a sloppy squatting position. Her mind no doubt in disarray, as she comes down from her high of highs, as her breathing begins to slowly calm down.

And, when in record time, she starts to stand up and straighten her legs, I provide her support, by placing my index and middle finger positioned at an angle towards her neck and my thumb on the opposite side and give it a quick squeeze.

*Vulcan Nerve Pinch!*

I catch her as she falls. Making certain there are no thuds to be heard, and because I'm a gentleman, and gently lay her on the floor.

And then, I get to work.

Gloves out of the back of my waistband. On my hands. Box in hand. Box opened. Empty just like in show. Front inner wall removed. Beautiful crystal in gloved hand. Front inner wall placed back. Box closed. Placed where it was, and noting no dust pattern on shelf to be observed. Glove removed from hand, and turned inside out with crystal secure inside. Glove placed in pocket. Other glove back in back waistband. Carol scooped up off floor and into my arms. Some soft smack, smack, smacks to the face. Carol's eyes begin to dance behind their lids. Her eyes open.

"What happened?" She asks.

"You fainted after the best orgasm of your life." I tell her.

Her eyes widen like she's seen an alien, as a very cute and out of place blush appears on her face.

I keep holding her in my arms like I just finished dipping her in that final move after a tango, and quickly leaned forward and capture her mouth with my own.

It starts off sensual. Her on the backfoot and unsure. Mostly stiff, her mind no longer clouded with lust and curiosity, which no longer allow her to respond through instinct and be led.

However, it doesn't take long for her to respond in kind. Her body reacting and her mind once more in control, as she opens her mouth. Our tongues dancing a deadly dance to see who will come out on top. She is unyielding, but I am Inigo Montoya, she killed my father. She must die.

I channel several techniques that I've learned throughout my life. Not believing that a housewife is giving me so much trouble. Only to remember that she was the woman who stood in the face of Klaus and didn't run and also got gangster with Caroline when she knew she was a full-on vampire...And still lived in this crazy ass town, AFTER knowing just how fucking crazy it is.

I was reminded in this moment, like with most individuals who end up in my situation, that this world was real, and the people in it were real. (HAHAHAHAHA had to do it. I just had to. If this line isn't in just about every reincarnation fan-fic then my name is Bob Inigo Montoya Uchiha.) She wasn't just going to submit to a tongue. No matter how magnificent.

So, I did what I had to do.

*Vulcan Nerve Pinch!*

Straight to the tympanic nerve cluster at the dimiurge conversion j-spot just below her hip, near the inside of her thigh.

"Ahhhhhh." And with another immediate orgasm from her, my tongue was absolute.

"Ha.ha.ha," she let out. Her breaths heavy and slightly exhausted, as she partially leaned down. Her hand on the spot where I pressed. "What was that?" She asked, looking up at me. Her eyes filled with mirth, curiosity, desire, and fulfillment.

I instantly hit her with a patented Gilbert smirk/smolder of danger. "That, my dear, was round one." I did a quick lean and gave her a peck on the lips, while at the same time, fixing her dress, and made my way out of the room with light steps that put fast walkers to shame, but were still somehow very smooth and looked unhurried. It's a skill.

I closed the door behind me, and did a quick scan.

No one around.

I made my way back down the stairs and to my bag that I kicked under the couch, just in case someone came in while I was occupied and grabbed it.

And just as I was turning around, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, as one of the two people that I did not want to see, stepped into the sitting area, dressed like he just got in.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Elena's little brother. What's in the bag, Gilbert?"

"Tyler," I said. Mentally and physically rolling my eyes at the beta. "What brings you here?" I asked him as I placed the strap over my head and across my chest.

He frowned at that. Like I was asking a bullshit question. "I live here. What the hell are you doing here."

Oh, shit.

If he's just gonna serve it up like that, then I've got to take it.

Quickly making my way to him, since that is the way to the door, I say, "Your mother." And then, skedaddle on my way. Knowing that he's only seconds from reaching behind him and grabbing my shoulder. No doubt to get all up in my face like a big man.

But, am I going to let that happen?

*Vulcan Nerve Pinch!*

Straight to the symbiotic hellscape calligula nerve strand that connects to the dominant posterior at his lower back and boom, he's shitting his pants, and I'm out of there. On my way to take on the world. One day at a time. (No, he will not go through the world vulcan nerve pinching people. This might be the only time I do it. Who knows.)

I don't have time to waste putting betas in their place.