A 'Power Broker' Story
Part 1: Release
The large steel door clanged shut with a bang that could be heard in the next street. As the sunlight speared from a clear blue sky into his eyes, the old man raised a hand to provide shade. Across the street, a long, sleek limousine gleamed blackly against the brick wall. The rear door opened, and a tall, elegant man, fortyish, and dressed in a smart dark blue suit climbed languidly out of the back. Hi Dad he shouted, running at a canter across the street to take his fathers arm. Welcome back to the world.
"Twenty years inside for a crime you didn't commit is too long Dad! We thought you might like a short break before you go home, so we have fixed up a little holiday on our boat first. Now that Mums gone, we thought you might also appreciate a little company".
"What I really want is to know that the bastard who framed me has got his just desserts," muttered the old man, almost to himself. " There's nothing left to live for now, son. You and your Brother are grown up, your Mother and Sister are dead, and I've thought of nothing but revenge for the last twenty years. You have to help me pay him back, son, you must help!"
"Don't worry Dad, we haven't been idle whilst you have been a way, - All in good time. First, a week on the boat should set you up for what Dan and I have in mind. I don't think you will be disappointed."
Guiding the old man gently by the arm, Paul Hegarty opened the rear door and helped him into the back seat. A young girl, no more than 19 years old, sat quietly on the seat facing him, a nervous smile playing gently on her lips. Climbing into the passenger seat beside his brother, Paul gave him a quiet grin and closed the blind between the seats.
In the back, the old man fell back into the seat and sighed in sheer relief. He found it hard to imagine that at last he was free to pursue his tormentor, Detective Sergeant Dave Willis. For twenty years he had harboured a burning hatred for the man who had not only planted the evidence that had convicted him of a particularly nasty robbery, but had actually carried out the crime himself, killing an innocent bystander in the process. As he wondered to himself where to start, he felt hands flutter across the front of his trousers, and opened his eyes to see the young girl, crouched on the floor of the vehicle between his legs, loosening his belt.
"What's your name girl?" he demanded.
"Becky, sir" she squeaked, taken by surprise by his gruff manner. "Well you had better be good!, or I'll put that belt to better use than holding up my trousers!"
"Yes sir" she murmured and swiftly drew down his zip. She expected a wizened object to appear, but was surprised again by the vigorous way his sizeable tool leapt out of his trousers and filled her hand. She dipped forward, and gently ran the tip of her tongue around the purple head of his dick. A small drop of precum gave her a taste of what was to come, as she slowly opened her mouth wider to take the tip inside. She felt him tighten as he raised his hips, pushing himself deeper into her throat. Swiftly she sucked him inside, opening her throat as far as she could, and began to slide her lips up and down his shaft. Twenty years of abstinence had obviously taken it's toll. In no time at all, she felt him stiffen, and his orgasm squirted a stream of hot, watery liquid into her mouth. As he came, she spied the belt, and remembering his earlier words, decided that swallowing would be the best course of action. He sighed as she licked him clean, and when she looked up she saw him staring down at her with a curious, almost sympathetic smile on his face.
Almost immediately, the car drew to a halt. The tall man who had recruited her appeared at the door, wordlessly dragged her onto the sidewalk, and threw a handful of bills onto her prostrate body. He jumped in the back, and the car pulled gently away as she pulled herself together and set off to walk to the houses she could see in the distance.
Inside the car, Paul gave his Dad a big grin. "Now!" he announced "Let me tell what plans Dan and I have made for our friend Sergeant Willis...
Part 2: Janey
"GO ON - I ONLY WANT ONE!" The girl in the silver mini- dress shouted above the booming bass of the dance music. At only 5ft tall, she was having trouble keeping the attention of her friend, a statuesque coffee coloured beauty who towered over her by a foot.
"I DON'T HAVE ANY, I'VE TOLD YOU ALREADY" she shouted back. "WHY DON'T YOU TRY STEVE?"
Janey knew this was going to happen eventually. For months now she had been relying on Sonja to keep her supplied with the ecstasy tablet she had come to depend on during her long nights of clubbing. At just turned 18, she had been introduced to the habit by Sonja, an older girl she had bumped into whilst queuing outside the club one night. They had both turned up on their own, and despite the physical disparity in their appearance had struck up an immediate rapport. Janey loved the bright lights, loud music, and the atmosphere of sexual tension which, despite the fact of her virginity, never ceased to excite her. Boys seemed to find her Pixie-like features and small tight body attractive enough to keep a constant stream of admirers vying for her attention. Sonja, on the other hand, was predatory. She oozed confidence, and rarely would a male in her sights escape without paying her full attention for as long as she wanted.
"I DON'T WANT TO". "I DON'T TRUST HIM!"
"O.K, FOLLOW ME"
She pushed her way through the crowd, following Janey as the crowd parted around her. Squeezing through the part-opened door, she found herself in a corridor leading to the offices above. Sonja turned to face her. "Look, E's not what you want. Try this," she said in a hushed voice, "and don't tell anyone about it! Understand?" Janey looked down at the small plastic sachet Sonja had thrust in her hand.
"What is it? Coke?"
"What do you think?" Muttered the dark girl, "Do you know how to use it?"
"Show me" said Janey, warming to the excitement of it all.
Sonja took the packet, sprinkled the white crystals on the back of Janey's hand, and helped her through her first sniff. The feel of the stuff as the first rush hit her brain made Janey slump against the wall.
"Jeez!" "I never guessed!" she muttered. "Lets get back to the dance before it wears off!"
Sonja eased Janey back through the door, glancing slyly at the small video camera mounted high in the wall as she did so. Upstairs, Steve Washington, Hood, Coke dealer, Owner of "Wonderland" the club, and general all-round Bastard, picked up the phone on his desk. "Get me Paul Hegarty", he barked.
"Boss?", "Steve!" Thought you'd want to know, Sonja delivered. Phase 1 is complete". He soaked up the congratulations, without ever taking his eyes off the TV monitor and little Janey Jeavons. Boy was he going to enjoy this.
Part 3: The Plan
Billy Hegarty picked up the plastic folder from the coffee table. He scan read the several documents inside before looking up at his eldest son beside him.
"Let me summarise", he said. "Dave Willis is now 63, retired, and untouchable. Is that correct?"
"Not quite Dad, we just think that killing an old man like that is probably too easy on him".
"I don't care, I just want him dead. That bastard framed me, killed my wife from worry, and caused Sally to kill herself from the shame of it all. He deserves all he has coming and more!"
"That's why we feel killing him is too simple. We should make the bastard suffer like we have had to. Attack him through his family, damage the things closest to his heart, wreck his reputation, In short, make him WISH he was dead.
Billy sat back in his chair, and an evil smirk slowly crossed his face as the full impact of his boys plan dawned on him. He picked up the folder and began to read the details with a new intensity. When he finished, he grabbed the towel beside him and strolled purposefully up on deck. Leaning against the rail, he wagged a finger at the girl sitting on her own, reading beside the pool. He couldn't remember her name, but what the hell did that matter. The boys had organised his holiday, and he had no idea how they managed to find such beautiful women to wait on him hand and foot.
The girl stood up and moved across beside him. Without saying a word, he signalled for her to turn around, face the sea, and bend over the rail. She smiled and soundlessly did so. His hand slid down her back, inside her bikini bottom, and cradled a warm buttock, marked by the cane seat she had been sitting on, but smooth as silk to the touch. The girl moved her feet back, making herself lean lower in the process, and at the same time obeyed his unspoken command to separate her legs and make his access easier. His dick strained in his shorts as his hand glided between her legs and began to rub gently up and down her crack. To his surprise, one touch on her clitoris created a gush of fluid which flowed over his hand and eased his penetration of her cunt. He could wait no longer. Dropping his shorts, he slid the bikini down her legs until it was trapped just above her knees. Then, with a single thrust he slid the full length of his dong straight up the girls tube. After the short episode with the girl in the car, he had rediscovered his libido, and this, coupled with the pent-up rage he was feeling about Willis, enabled him to plough up and down the girls cunt for as long as he wanted. She was taken completely by surprise by the fury with which she was being fucked. Any complacency she might have felt at the prospect of looking after an old man was washed away as he forced first one, then a second orgasm from her increasingly limp body. His cry of pain as he finally ejaculated served merely to heighten her sense of fulfilment as he spurted long and hard into her willing body.
Across the pool, Dan and Paul shared a private joke as they watched the old man rediscover his purpose in life. It had been Bills energy that had built the family fortune, and it had been the unscrupulous determination of the brothers that had grown it, and extended their influence into almost every aspect of the Country's life. Now they all knew. This was payback time.
Part 4: Politics
"...It is with the greatest regret therefore, that I have decided to announce my resignation from both the Government, and my seat in Parliament"
Henry Jeavons switched the television off. He was having real trouble keeping to himself the sense of triumph he was feeling. It had been clear for a few weeks now that his local MP was in trouble. Ever since the financial scandal broke, Henry had been quietly, but effectively lobbying for the candidature of his party in probably the safest seat in the country. Tonight's meeting would probably confirm that all his work had not been in vain. All the top people in the local party, together with a number of important industrialists and National politicians would be attending the fund raising event that his beautiful wife had organised with her usual panache. He was late, so he had better get a move on.
Henry's car pulled up at the front door of the Grand Hotel. As he stepped out he was immediately greeted by his agent Hugh Withenham.
"Come on, dear boy, they are all waiting for you!, Haven't you heard the news?" Hugh led Henry rapidly through the noisy throng of people to the committee room, where the real business of the evening would be dealt with. As they burst in, Henry could see that a lively discussion was already under way, and that he was the subject of it.
As his presence was recognised, the babble died away, and Charles Stokesley, Constituency Party Chairman rose to speak.
"Welcome Henry," he intoned in his usual pompous tone. "You are aware, I'm sure, that the seat has just become vacant, and that tonight we are meeting to determine a successor. The committee members you already know, our guest, Sir Gerald Knebworthy has been sent from head office to see fair play. We have, at this moment, only one nomination. That's you, so we would be grateful if you could make your case". With that, he sat down and looked expectantly at Henry.
For almost an hour, Henry held court over them, starting with an impromptu speech (which he had prepared and memorised days before) and then deftly handling any question they could throw at him. He had them in the palm of his hand by the time he sat down.
"Gentlemen". Stokesley was on his feet again. "I think you will agree with me that tonight we have heard the strongest possible case, and I therefore propose that we adopt Henry, post haste, as the prospective candidate for this seat.
Murmurs of approval sounded round the table, hands began to be raised, cries of "seconded" were uttered and Henry began to beam with delight.
The booming voice of Sir Gerald Knebworthy broke through the burble.
"As you know, for an important seat like this one, it is incumbent upon us to find the best possible candidate, and to that end we normally select them from the national, vetted, list. I cannot therefore simply endorse such a candidate as Henry, however good he might be."
"What does that mean"? demanded Stokesley.
"It means that I have to consult, become familiar with the local circumstances, and make my final recommendation to the Party Hierarchy in due course. If I am not satisfied, another candidate, from the approved list, must be chosen."
"So the future of Henry and our constituency is entirely in your hands?"
"In a word, Yes! I will give you my response next week. In the meantime, I suggest we all enjoy what is left of the evening". He raised himself from his chair, and lurched off towards the door. All conversation stopped, and the members filed out into the hall.
Part 5: The joys of retirement.
Dave Willis reached for the remote control, and turned down the sound. On the monitor, his maid, Celeste, slowly eased her stockings off her slim, brown legs. Buying this old house had been the ideal move for his retirement, he mused quietly to himself. As Chief Inspector, he had gained an inside track when the time came to retire. Membership of the golf club, Life membership of the two major business charities, and continuation of his Masonic activities had ensured a constant stream of cash that he spent often, but cautiously on his comfortable life style.
His only concession to extravagance was the video system. Since his wife died of a stroke, access to pornography had been a major relief, but it wasn't enough. He needed more immediate thrills, and it had not taken long for him to persuade a dependent ex-con that it was in his best interest to wire up the house with the most sophisticated surveillance video system available. When the installer fell foul of the local road conditions and plunged his car into the local quarry, only Dave Willis knew of it's existence.
Now, he was reaping the benefit as he watched the beautiful Filipina slip off her new maid's uniform. His dick stood to attention with expectation, and he was not to be disappointed. The girls panties were next, and to his amazement, she began to stroke herself absent-mindedly as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her finger slid gently across her slit, and a look of studious calm came over her face.
Upstairs in his den, Willis pumped at his dick. "Maybe this one will do more than the cleaning, he thought as he spurted onto the carpet.
Taking a couple of deep breaths, he wiped quickly at the stain, threw the tissue in the waste bin, and settled back to open his mail. He reached for it, threw away the several envelopes of Junk mail, put aside one he didn't recognise, and opened the one letter he treasured. His only daughter kept in touch. Every week his beloved Joanna sent him a letter outlining her latest activities, the progress of her ambitious husband, and the success of his lovely granddaughter Janey. Putting it aside he took the other envelope from the desk. A small plain brown envelope, there appeared to be nothing in it. The Post Office stamp was smudged, giving no indication of its origins so he tore it swiftly in two. As he did so, a small slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, he found it to be a small press cutting. LOCAL BANK ROBBER RELEASED. Beneath the headline, in fine red pen, the simple signature "Mars" stood out. As he read it, a quizzical look took over his face. Who had sent it and why?
A knock on the door reminded him that the new maid was waiting outside.
The door eased open, and the maid slid into the room.
"Hello, Celeste isn't it?"
"Come in and tell me about yourself"
Part 6: Janey
Janey was struggling. The last eight weeks had been amazing. Trouble was she was now catching it from several places. Her constant clubbing was beginning to take its toll. She was always tired, late night starts and not getting to bed before dawn was a bad recipe for Student success. Her only saviour had been the coke which kept her fuelled each night for the frantic pace of the club scene. She found it difficult to concentrate, and her work was suffering. Even more worrying, she was having to pay 20 pounds a hit to her friend Sonja just to keep her up for it, and she didn't want Mum and Dad to know where her grant was going. "Still", she thought, "one more night won't be a problem".
Dressed in her favourite little Black number (square neckline showing just enough cleavage, long enough to look elegant and not like a tart) she climbed out of her battered old car and headed for Wonderland. Unusually there was no sign of Sonja. Fifteen minutes of hanging about at the door did nothing to improve her humour, so she decided not to wait. The blast of Lights and Sound hit her and she dived into the crowd to find her usual mates.
"Two o'clock, and still no sign of Sonja" Janey mused to herself. The tap on her shoulder attracted her attention.
"Hi!" grinned Mark, Sonja's sometime boyfriend and general all-round sleazeball. "I've a message from Sonja. She has had to fly off home to see her Mum. She's sorry, but her mum is poorly, and her trip couldn't wait".
"Oh I'm so sorry for her", shouted Janey sympathetically above the noise, but beneath the caring exterior, altogether different thoughts were going through her mind. She was beginning to wilt, and knew she needed a hit. Sonja had been her only supplier, so what on earth was she to do. She certainly wasn't going to share her thoughts with this oily prat. She never could see what Sonja saw in him. What she also didn't know was that upstairs, the only other source she knew was watching her increasing agitation with growing interest as he congratulated himself on the impending success of the plan.
Janey walked up to the doorman, a giant of a man dressed as always incongruously in a full dinner suit, with the ubiquitous ear piece keeping him in constant communication with his colleagues. Half an hour of discreet, and not so discreet enquiries had confirmed what Janey already knew. Steve Washington was "the man". No-one else could, or would supply the powder on his patch.
"I'd like to see Steve please" she shouted up at the giant.
"Not Possible!" he boomed down at her.
"Please, just ask him".
"He never sees anyone without an appointment"
"Then please ask him for one?"
The Giant moved his head towards the wall and muttered into his chest. Swivelling round he confirmed her worst fears. "Sorry he won't see you.
"Tell him she's with me!" came the voice over her shoulder. She swivelled round, following the doorman's gaze to see Mark standing beside her.
"What are you doing here", she whispered angrily above the din.
"I know what you want, and thought you might appreciate some help to get it"
"What can you do?" she sneered. Her distaste for this man was getting the better of her.
"Be nice to me, and you will see" Mark retorted.
As if by magic, the doorman stood to one side, held open the door, and ushered both of them through. At the top of a short staircase they were ushered through another, altogether more substantial door, by two even bigger doormen. Sitting behind a large oak desk, sat the object of her efforts: Steve Washington.
Part 7: Conditions.
Bye, darling, muttered Henry Jeavons, giving his wife a swift peck on the cheek. Hugh, Stokesley and I are meeting tonight over in Beckham to see what we can do to influence that old sod Knebworthy, so I won't be back until late. Don't wait up! So saying, he climbed into his Jag, and headed off into a hot, humid night.
Joanna Jeavons sat pensively on the arm of the sofa, and tried to get her head around this latest turn of events. She had married Hugh not because she was in love with him, although that had grown later. No! her interest in Hugh was primarily in the opportunity for social advancement he offered. Now, just when she thought he had an MPs title in the bag, this duffer Knebworthy turns up on the scene and threatens to de- rail the whole process. He must not be allowed to succeed.
Her reverie was disrupted by the urgent ringing of the doorbell. Smoothing down the front of her skirt, she moved across to the door and opened it. A large, grey haired man in his late 50s stood smiling before her.
"Good evening" he announced, "Hope you don't mind me dropping in like this, but I was hoping to catch you and your husband at home, Gerald's the name, Gerald Knebworthy."
"I'm sorry, Sir Gerald, my husband has gone out for the evening on constituency business, so I'm afraid that won't be possible".
"Well, since you know who I am, and your husband has clearly explained my role, I guess I will have to catch up with him later. In the meantime, why don't you invite me in, and we can get to know each other better."
Feeling very unsure of herself, Joanna let him in, showed him to the couch in the front room, and poured them both a whisky. Knebworthy gazed appreciatively at her backside as she poured the drinks. If everything he had heard about her ambition were true, tonight would be a very interesting experience. His grin returned as she moved across the room, and sat in the armchair across from him, delicately crossing her ankles as she did so. "Ah well", thought Gerald "might as well start as we mean to go on".
Why don't you come and sit over here, my dear, he suggested. "The first test of her willingness" he thought quietly to himself. He sighed inwardly with gratitude as she levered herself out of the chair and came around the coffee table to join him. Perching herself at the other end of the sofa, she cradled her whisky in both hands
Gerald glanced down at his watch. He had been here almost an hour, and was now thinking of making his move. A much relaxed Joanna sat beside him. Most of the conversation had been driven by her desire to impress, but now she was chatting much more informally. Two more healthy whiskies had helped. She was now sitting back on the sofa, one arm along the back pointing towards him, with one leg drawn up under her, the other pointing elegantly down at the floor. He moved gently towards her.
"I suppose you know why I was sent here?" he said.
The sudden return to business took Joanna by surprise, she had fought the battle, and in her mind won it. Why was he now asking such a question?. She was even more surprised when he leaned forward, fixed her with his gaze, and placed his hand firmly on her leg, just above her knee.
"Please, don't do that!" She said, with perhaps a little more conviction than she felt. "I don't like it!"
His response was to move his hand slowly up her leg. Swiftly she lowered her own hand, and trapped his on her thigh, just below her stocking tops. His gaze never wavered.
"Joanna", he said softly. "We both know that I have the power to make your husbands career. I will not, however do it without your co-operation, and that is not the sort of co-operation I require. Now! Please remove your hand, put down your whisky, and put your arms along the top of the sofa."
Joanna froze. She had no idea that things would take such a dangerous turn. For the first time in her life she didn't know what to do. How could she stop him? Did she want to? Despite herself, the danger of the situation was having an unexpected effect on her, she could feel herself responding to his advances.
"Move your hand and do as I tell you", Gerald insisted. "If you don't I will leave now, and say goodbye if that is what you want. There will be no second chance, but you will not be bothered again".
Tears welled up in Joanna's eyes as the humiliation of the choice before her struck home. She seemed powerless to do anything. Her hands moved as if of their own accord, as she suddenly found herself sitting back on the sofa with her arms horizontal along the back. His fingers flexed, pushing her thighs apart, and allowing his hand access to the cool flesh above her stockings.
"That's better!" he said, "Now, where were we?" His approach lost all pretence of subtlety and his fingers pushed her thighs apart, allowing him to rub a digit up and down her Panty-covered crotch. "Ah yes, I remember. We were discussing our new relationship. Co-operation, that's the key. In future, you will do anything and everything that I deem necessary to advance the course of your Husbands career. You will never mention our relationship to him, but you will put yourself at my disposal 24hrs a day.
As he spoke, his fingers wormed into her knickers, and began to massage her clitoris. Her breathing became ragged, as her body responded to the gentle ministrations of his hand. She was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what he was saying.
"I will need help with his campaign, and you will fill the bill nicely. Salary and expenses will be enough to legitimise the position in your husbands mind, and when you are called to London, a flat will be placed at your disposal. Is everything clear?"
"Huhh Huhh she grunted, as she began to lose control. Spears of sensation flushed through her body, her clit seemed to be on fire, her legs were now widely, and willingly splayed, and the orgasm, when it came rendered her speechless.
"My My, I have got a hot little slut haven't I". He stood up, loosened his trousers and gloated at her. "I suppose I had better give you the main course now". His dick sprang from the confines of his true blue underpants and almost hit Joanna in the face. Without any further foreplay he pushed her, not so gently, back on to the sofa, spread her legs, and without further ado, plunged himself into her cunt, straight up to the hilt. He grimaced as her panties cut into the side of his erection. "Must remember to take your knickers off next time" he guffawed.
Joanna laid beneath his assault, confused by the mixed emotions and sensations ripping through her. She knew this was wrong, but the sex was better than anything Henry had ever been able to provide, and for the first time in over twenty years of married life she felt as though she was enjoying it.
As his breathing quickened, so did hers. As his orgasm built so did hers, and when he eventually came with a cry and a gushing of semen, her whole body went into spasm, her legs gripping him tightly around the waist, her cunt clenching and unclenching in a rhythmic pulsation she could not control.
Any illusions were shattered, however, by Gerald's next action. Pulling off her, he lifted his dick, smelling as it did of her juices, thrust it against her lips and instructed her to "Clean me up, Bitch"
Part 8: In too deep
Janey was in trouble, and she knew it. She stood, just inside the doorway to Steve Washington's office, trying to control the icy shivers coursing through her body. She hoped he couldn't tell she was desperate for a hit, but she also knew that both he, and that toad Mark were experts at spotting a user in trouble.
"Well, Mark, what have you brought me tonight"
Janey looked at the floor, feeling the sweat trickle down her cleavage, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her, as Steve marched over to her. Standing in front of her, he placed his finger under her chin, and raised her face until she made eye contact. His eyes bored into hers, and she found herself unable to look away.
"What do you want, little girl?"
"Nothing!, I've changed my mind"
"I don't think so!" he asserted, and as he did so, he slid his finger down the smooth skin of her throat, across the neckline of her dress, and smoothly lowered one strap down her arm. Janey was in no doubt of his intentions.
"Leave me alone!, I only want a hit, I can pay"
"You sure can, honey", Steve grinned, "but not with money". His other hand now busied itself sliding the other strap over her shoulder, causing the dress to drop, revealing almost all of her small, but beautifully formed breasts.
She tried to grab her dress, but as she did so, Mark grabbed her hands and dragged them behind her. A quick tug from Steve left her dress nestling in a pool at her feet, and her standing in just her knickers and hold-up stockings.
"Nice" beamed Steve, getting into the swing of things.
"Leave me alone you bastards" screamed Janey, "I don't want this. I'm a virgin"
Janey never saw the blow coming. Steve's fist caught her just under the ribcage, forcing the breath from her body. Only Mark's grip on her prevented her sliding to the floor. Without ceremony, Mark lifted her off her feet, and marched her over to the desk. Pushing her on her back, he grasped both her legs, and bent them back over her head until her toes touched the desk beside her ears. She tried to struggle, but her arms, pinioned beneath her legs were useless, and she could not even turn her head, trapped as it was between her ankles. Marks free hand grabbed her breast, kneading and twisting it, whilst without haste, Steve ran his finger up and down her exposed crack, pushing her panties aside, and inserting it roughly into her cunt. Janey let out a scream, as Steve hooked his fingers into the flimsy cloth, and pulled her knickers off in one movement.
"Please" whimpered Janey, "I just want to go home"
"Sure you do" laughed Mark behind her. She tilted her head back the small amount she could, and was horrified to find he was naked, his penis jutting out from his body pointing directly at her face. Before she could worry about Mark, an horrendous pain speared into her lower body. Steve had, in one thrust, pushed his enormous organ straight up her tube, rupturing her virgin membrane, and causing the most awful pain she had ever experienced. She was sure he had split her in two.
"Jesus" yelled Steve at Mark. " you want to try this, she's as tight as a clam". Without any pretence at subtlety he began to piston in and out of her raw flesh. Janeys body ached in places she never knew she had as the thrusting of his massive tool continued to rasp against her dry cuntwall. The pain stopped. Steve withdrew, and Janey began to lower her legs, thankful it was over. Unfortunately for her, she was the only thing that was over. A quick flip, and she found herself face down on the desk, her sore breast cooled by the wooden surface. Relief was short lived. The trickle of oil on her arse warned her of horrors to come.
"No! No! not there!, not my arse!"
"Shut up Bitch, no-one asked you!"
She felt his knees push her legs apart as he settled in behind her. He reached forward, grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled. Her head yanked back, and the surprise caused her to yell out.
"Aaaarghmmmmmm" she yelled as her cry was cut short by Mark sticking his dick straight into her open mouth.
"Bite me, and I'll kill you!" he threatened.
"mm I won't mm" she tried to say, but it sounded almost unintelligible as he began to take his pleasure down her throat. At the same time, she felt Steve push the tip of his finger into her anus. At least he's being gentle this time, she thought to herself, unaware that he was simply ensuring that the oil eased his passage. She felt his finger withdraw, to be replaced by the bulbous end of his cock. Again the same quick thrust caused maximum pain as he forced his way past her virgin sphincter. For what seemed like hours, Steve and Mark took turns, pummelling away at mouth, cunt and arse, before leaving her, drenched in sweat and semen curled up in a ball on the office floor.
It was morning before the doorman came in to the office, pulled her dress on, gave her two small packets of what she came for, and sent her home in a taxi, with strict instructions to "be on call!".
Part 9: The list
"How's it going Dan?"
"Fine, Paul, business is good".
"And the plan for Dads revenge?
"Well. I'm going to help myself to a bit tonight". Should be quite an interesting evening".
An hour later, he and Sir Gerald stood outside a Mayfair flat, waiting patiently for a response to their ringing of the doorbell.
The ringing of the front doorbell brought Joanna from her reverie. For three weeks she had wondered whether she would ever hear from Sir Gerald again. The brief letter she had received yesterday dispelled any illusions she might have had. The message had been stark. " The flat, Wednesday, 7.30p.m. cocktail dress code". A curious excitement had permeated her preparation for the evening. She had no idea what awaited her, but she remembered the thrill generated by Sir Gerald's previous treatment of her. The thought of spending another evening at his beck and call raised mixed emotions as she dressed herself in stockings, high heels, and knee length cocktail dress.
At 7.30pm exactly, she had opened the door I response to the bell, to be met by three young women bearing boxes. 30 minutes later, when the door bell rang again, the young women had departed, leaving behind a simple but exquisite two course meal, complete with table settings and Wine. The reason for the three place settings became clear as she opened the door to greet Sir Gerald, and a tall, good looking stranger, dressed in a dark suit and wearing an attractive quizzical smile
"Good evening, my dear", may I introduce Dan Hegarty. He has an interest in our campaign to elect your Husband, and I thought it was time you met."
For two hours the three of them made small talk over over the smoked duck starter and Grilled sea bass. Several glasses of the most exquisite white wine had been consumed when Joanna glibly apologised for the absence of a dessert.
" But Joanna, what do you think you are here for?" "Dan, here, is the custodian of the Party shortlist, and this is your opportunity to show him what you are prepared to do to ensure that Henry is on it". As he spoke, Dan stood up, moved an armchair into the middle of the sitting room, and placed it facing the sofa, upon which he sat down.
To Joanna, the temperature appeared to drop two or three degrees as icicles of uncertainty ran down her spine. Dan smiled at her.
"Please", he called through to the dining room. "Come here, that's a good girl"
Such a patronising address, particularly to a woman of her maturity left her in no doubt about her position, and she stood up, walked through to the sitting room, and sat down in the chair.
"Stand up, I didn't tell you to sit". His voice was quiet, but menacing, and left no scope for disobedience. She stood looking at him for instruction.
"Joanna here is a bit of a slut, aren't you", questioned Sir Gerald.
"Yes sir" responded Joanne, falling swiftly into the role demanded of her.
"A very good looking one though", agreed Dan, addressing no one in particular. Then, to Joanne "Why don't you show me a little more of you. Raise your dress".
Joanne reached down and smoothed her palms up her legs, pulling the hem of her dress above her stocking tops.
"Come on, now", you can do better than that" chuckled Sir Gerald, " show us your knickers".
She understood full well that Sir Gerald knew she wasn't wearing any. He had told her what to wear, after all. She glanced at Dan, noted his amused stare, and slowly lifted the hem of her dress until it uncovered her neatly trimmed bush. She was not surprised when he leaned forward, demanded that she part her legs, and slowly rubbed his finger along her slit. Despite herself, she could not help responding to the slow, lazy stroking of her sex. A mixture of arousal and shame made the experience all the more exciting for her, and she could feel the little bulb of her clit become more prominent, almost as though it was reaching for stimulus.
"Take off your dress"
"Yes Sir!" She slipped the dress over her head, trying all the time to maintain contact between her aroused sex, and her busy fingers. She became almost so engrossed in the pleasure of it all, that she nearly missed the instruction to "Sit Down".
Biting her bottom lip in frustration, she moved away from Dan's probing finger, and settled back into the armchair, legs together, hands clasped firmly, as if praying.
Dan leaned forward, towards her, hands held loosely on his knees, that damned smile still playing on his lips.
"Spread your legs for me". She did so, her hands moving at the same time onto her now separated knees.
"Lift your legs over the arms of the chair". She felt her cheeks glow with embarrassment at the thought of exposing herself in such a shameful way.
Totally unexpected, the instruction hit her like a hammer. Surely he didn't expect her to do such a thing in front of both of them? She glanced around her, looking for Sir Gerald, but he appeared to have moved into another room. Relieved, she slid her right hand down to her crotch. She felt the familiar warmth rushing to her genitals as she slowly rubbed the outside of her labia. He looked across at her, fixing her with his all-knowing eyes, certain of the pleasure she was feeling. Her movements quickened, and she felt a rush of lubrication flood from her vagina. She slipped first one, then two fingers into herself, and leaned back, closing her eyes as the waves of pleasure began to build.
"Look at me!" Another instruction! more difficult to do this time! She tried to look away, but he placed his finger on her chin and gently drew her face back to his.
"Tell me what you want from me he asked her in a whisper"
"I want my husbands name on the shortlist" she panted, her breathing quickening with the ministrations of her fingers.
"And I want you to make love to me" she whispered, almost under her breath as she uttered it."
"No you don't. You want sex! Don't you!"