One Last Job With Vengeance
Chapter 57

Copyright© 2015 by Daniel James

Walking into Saim's house and into her room nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Opening the diary for the day, she noticed she only had three punters. Two had cancelled for some reason. It's my last day and I get to go home early, bonus, this is going to be a good day Bridget assumed.

The clients were easy. All three were new to her and all from the media industry. It made a change too that all three we gentle with her. There were no weird fantasies to deal with or any pain involved. It was just straight soft sex. They had soft hands that stroked her body tenderly and seemed genuinely wanting her to feel good. She was surprised but she actually felt a slight wanting in her with all three, so much so that she didn't even have the need to use any oil on herself. The last client had left and she had showered, dressed, and was ready to go quicker than usual. The time was early, only eight fifteen, but with her diary completed, she was ready to say goodbye to the room for the last time.

Climbing the stairs to the next floor, heading for Saim's office, she stopped outside the door. Saim was on the telephone. She could not understand what the conversation was about but she certainly knew it was a heated one. Hearing Saim's fist thump against the desk she wondered whether to forget her wages and just leave, but she knew that if she did not pick the money up it would seem odd, so she waited.

Finally, upon hearing the receiver placed down, she raised her hand and knocked

"Yes come in," Saim shouted

"Only me Boss, just come to grab my money. Diary emptied and all is good," she says trying to be as blasé as possible.

"Oh of course Bridget, any trouble today?"

"Nope, none whatsoever, the three clients were rather good for a change. I actually wouldn't mind them again"

"Great, well there's your cash and I will see you bright eyed and bushy tailed on Monday morning"

Taking her money, she leaves the office. With a skip, she sauntered down the stairs and out into her new world.

The journey home was completely different from normal. Still full of sweaty people on the train and the monotony of the journey itself but even that, mixed with the pouring rain, could not stop Bridget smiling and singing to herself. She could not only taste the food and wine that was to come later, but finally, the taste of freedom itself. Turning onto the last road to the flat her pace quickened. It was as though her body was urging her forward, trying to say, the quicker you get home the quicker you can start your new life. By the time she was a few yards from the door, she was sprinting.

Bursting through the door, she fell straight into Bern's open arms. Neither had to say anything but both knew exactly what was on each other's minds. The hug seemed endless and needed, synchronised, they both felt the tears roll down their faces.

"It's over Bridget and no more will ever be asked of you"

"I know Bern. I am more relieved than I thought I would be"

Pulling apart, still holding hands they stared, studying, and searching, into each other's eyes. Both of their faces wet with tears and with makeup run, made their eyes resembling a panda, and just they grinned.

"Thank you for everything you have done Bridget" Bern utters sniffing back the tears

"You don't have to thank me Bern. You have given me a life and something to look forward to"

"Maybe so but if you had not agreed we would not be here like this now"

Looking into Bern's face Bridget could see a new tear forming and fall down her cheek and onto her lip. Bern, with mouth slightly apart, skims her velvety tongue over her lips and absorbs the tear. Bridget felt an intense compulsion to thrust her own lips onto Bern's, to feel their softness, to taste the saltiness of the tear. In her mind, she wanted to feel the pleasure and soft tenderness that only another woman would know how to give. She had never felt like that before for a woman and she tried to understand why now. Was it because Bern had saved her from the miserable life she was living? Was it the way Bern had openly let her into her life without judging her? Was it that Bern had taken care of her as nobody had done before? She could not answer her own questions.

There was no doubt Bern was a beautiful and seductive woman with a figure that all men, and probably most women, would want to feel and caress but it had to be something else as well as that. Either way, as much as she may want it, it was not the right thing to do. Releasing from the hug, she runs her down Bern's side and softly over the contours of the side of her breasts.

"Okay, I don't want to get all mushy. We have things still to do I believe" Bridget said as she reluctantly pulls away.

Opening a bottle of wine, they sit down to dinner and get ready for the packing ahead.

Twelve thirty in the morning and Saim was sitting at his desk trying to relax. The day had not been great and looking at the income loss for the last month had made it worse. Pouring a glass of scotch from the crystal decanter, he could hear heavy steps bounding up the stairs and his guards shouting.

The office door burst open and a man charges in, closely followed by two guards.

"Sorry Boss, he just shot passed us" the guard spluttered out of breath

"Okay don't worry. Shut the door" Saim promptly commanded.

"Good evening Lord Stonebridge or, as it is past midnight, should I say good morning. What can I do for you?"

Lord Stonebridge remained silent. He simply walked to Saim's desk, undone his trousers and pushed them, along with his boxer shorts, to his ankles.

Saim's eyes widened at the action and first looked at the bare bottom half of Lord Stonebridge and then up to his face.

Taking his member in his hand, the Lord lifted his sore wrinkled flesh, placed it on the desk and simply declared, "You can do nothing for me but look at the state of that"

Looking back down at the shrivelled up fleshy mound on the desk, it did indeed look very sore. As a slug covered in salt would be, it appeared burnt. The open weeping sores spanned the whole length from shaft to head. Red welt lines, presumably from scratching, surrounded the testicles, making them look like some sort of globe roadmap. The head was seeping some kind of yellowy puss and was congealing around the eye opening like conjunctivitis. The smell, apparent and pungent, had Saim grabbing for his scotch glass to mask the scent.

"This is from your girls Saim, It's just lucky that I have not slept with my wife" the Lord complains

"My girls, how do you know that?" Saim probes sarcastically.

"Simply because I have slept with no other that's how. I am getting treated tomorrow but I have come to say that you will get no more business from me or any of my colleagues"

"I am sure it has not come from one of my girls. They are all clean. I do not employ street girls"

"Are you calling me a liar you jumped up pimp?"

"No of course not my Lord but are you sure it is sexually transmitted. Could it have been picked up elsewhere?"

"You mock me and treat me like an idiot. Maybe I was born at night but it sure was not last night. Do you think I go around with my cock hanging out? What else can it be other than sexual?"

It was apparent that the Lord was getting irate and Saim knew exactly that it was sexual. There was nothing that could be done now but he had to get rid of the man, as quickly and quietly as possible.

 
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