The Innocent

by John Argus

  Or so he thought.

  He padded quietly and breathlessly down the empty hall, inserted his duplicate key into the lock, pressed his ear to the door to listen and ensure himself she was not yet home, and then slowly, very slowly, pushed open the door.

  ‘Are you a friend of the young lady?’ a voice demanded from behind him. He yelped in shock, and turned around to see the dog walker scrutinising him from a few feet away. ‘Because I happen to know you don’t live there,’ the man added.

  Normand struggled to know what to do or say, his heart pounding as he imagined being carted off in handcuffs by the police. But then the interfering stranger grinned, and leaned towards him. ‘Do you know, I think we might have the same aim here,’ he said in a conspiratorial tone. ‘Let’s go inside, and discuss it.’

  ‘Come inside, and I’ll make us some tea,’ Zoe said, her voice shaking slightly. She had expected it would be difficult to persuade Sir Patrick up to her flat, but quite the contrary, he had been eager to accompany her.

  She left the door unlocked, as Mr Erasmus had ordered, and led him to the sofa before going to fetch some tea. When she returned, she blushed deeply as she saw him looking at the cards left carelessly on her coffee table. ‘Um, those belong to a friend,’ she explained quickly, unconvincingly.

  ‘A close friend, I presume,’ Sir Patrick said, with a lecherous wink that caught her off guard, but she steeled herself and sat down beside him, keen to conclude the awful task ahead of her.

  ‘Anyway I, um, wanted to apologise for any embarrassment I may have caused you and your colleagues at the function,’ she began weakly. ‘I shouldn’t have… have exposed myself in that way before a man of your… your distinguished moral sensibilities.’

  ‘Oh, I rather liked it,’ he declared, glancing down at her breasts, just as he had before.

  From the outset she had thought it ridiculous to make such an apology whilst wearing a blouse that was unbuttoned enough to show a generous amount of her cleavage, and snug enough to hug her breasts temptingly, but Mr Erasmus, who always seemed to know best, had insisted. And certainly Sir Patrick – she noted with some indignation, since he was her father’s friend, after all – did not seem at all shy about gazing openly at the mouth-watering vision. ‘Sometimes it just comes over me,’ she pressed on, wishing she didn’t have to, ‘this… this loose nature.’

  ‘Oh, I like girls with a loose nature,’ he leered, his second chin wobbling a little as he licked his lips, and then he caught her completely by surprise as he unceremoniously wedged a hand into her blouse and cupped one of her breasts.

  ‘Oh, please!’ Veronica gasped, her body bucking to the heat within and the pain without. ‘Please!’ The cane was lashing continuously across her back and buttocks while the Oriental girl’s mouth worked against her hot and helplessly juicing pussy. It was like a bizarre fantasy come to life, and the fact that it was taking place within the cold walls of the Churchill building only made it seem even more bizarre. Yet she was on the verge of an explosive climax, her mind spinning out of control as sexual fervour possessed her, and the humiliation was only serving to feed the masochistic fires smouldering within. She had already told Allison Parker everything about Erasmus’s plans for Zoe.

  ‘Okay, now listen to what you’re going to do for us, Veronica,’ the statuesque blonde whispered in her ear.

  With Sir Patrick’s bloated face buried in her scented cleavage, snuffling like a wild boar digging for truffles, Zoe spied Mr Erasmus enter the apartment, smile at her and observe the scene for a moment, and then slip into her bedroom. Moments later he beckoned for her to join him and, with some difficulty, she disentangled herself from Sir Patrick’s guileless molesting and stood up, her blouse in unbuttoned disarray. ‘Um, let me slip into something more comfortable for you, Sir Patrick,’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘You do that, my dear,’ he wheezed, lounging back on the couch, his cheeks rosy. ‘But don’t take too long now, do you hear? I’ve got quite a treat here for you,’ and he winked suggestively at his tented pinstripe trousers, dashing any last remnants of respect Zoe held for him.

  She hurried into her bedroom, where Mr Erasmus quickly closed the door and motioned towards the naughty lingerie she’d recently bought, which was laying across the chair in the corner. ‘That will do very nicely,’ he whispered. ‘Put it on and let Sir Patrick admire it while you stand in the doorway.’

  ‘But… but what are you going to be doing?’ she asked in hushed tones.

  ‘I’m going to be watching to make sure you do as you’re told,’ he informed her.

  ‘You’re going to watch?’ The prospect stunned her, yet at the same time she found it reassuring.

  ‘Don’t worry. He’ll never know I’m here. I’ll be in the wardrobe.’

  ‘But I…’

  He pulled open her blouse and slipped it off for her. ‘Get changed,’ he commanded. ‘You don’t want to keep your guest waiting. Think of those orphans.’

  Zoe bit her lip, quickly undressed, and slipped into the lingerie. Then, as he eased into his hiding place, she turned and opened the bedroom door again. Blushing, she leaned against the frame, and tried to steady her voice as she saw Sir Patrick rise with some difficulty from the couch and move towards her. ‘Would you like to see my bedroom, Sir Patrick?’ she asked coyly.

  ‘Oh, you dear girl,’ he was almost slavering with eagerness, ‘I most certainly would.’

  ‘But, Steven will be furious,’ Beacher gasped.

  ‘So what?’ Allison said nonchalantly.

  ‘He’s vicious when you’re on his bad side,’ Beacher warned.

  ‘We’ll have the upper hand this time. There’s nothing he’ll be able to do about it.’

  ‘But I just don’t see how I can get him to—’

  ‘Oh, for Gods sake, Veronica, just grab him and wrestle him into bed,’ Allison snapped. ‘It only has to be for a moment.’

  The car stopped and Selina looked back at them from the driver’s seat.

  ‘All right,’ Allison said. ‘Let’s go.’

  The three women stepped out of the car and walked into Zoe Quincanon’s building. Both Selina and Veronica were naked beneath long trench coats, and both were quite nervous about it. Allison would brook no argument, however, and the threat of scandal held them in check as they went up in the cramped lift and then walked along the hall to Zoe’s door.

  ‘You’re sure it will be unlocked?’ Allison whispered.

  ‘That was the plan,’ Veronica replied tightly, easing the door open.

  The front room was quiet and empty, and they looked as one towards the closed bedroom door. Allison smiled, pulling out her camera, and then nodded at her two accomplices, making imperious gestures as they hesitated.

  With a degree of reluctance Selina and Veronica removed their coats and, completely naked, moved towards the bedroom. Veronica eased the door open and peeked inside. Then she drew back and motioned to Allison, who glared at her before stepping forward and peering into the room for herself.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Sir Patrick groaned. ‘Oh yes, yes…’

  Zoe pouted, feeling very odd as she dripped hot candle wax over Sir Patrick’s chest. He hissed and bucked, but was held in place by the straps attached to her bedposts.

  When he first saw the bed, she had been quite sure he would want to tie her, as Mr Erasmus did, but instead he eagerly laid himself across it and spread his arms demanding she bind him securely in place. She was quite confused about his desires, and about the wax, but was obedient to his commands, wondering what Mr Erasmus would think of it all.

  She still wore the gorgeous lingerie, and she felt oddly sexy as she straddled Sir Patrick’s rotund belly and felt his warm flesh against her thighs. She dripped more wax across his chest as he groaned and writhed, his face a mask of tormented pleasure.


  ‘The nipples,’ he croaked. ‘Drip the wax on my nipples, mistress!’

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head slightly in disbelief, but she obeyed, watching in fascination as he moaned and thrashed anew. Eventually she had to suppress a giggle; it was actually quite fun, if extremely dotty, but she did not want to spoil his pleasure by making light of it.

  ‘Let me see your breasts,’ he groaned desperately.

  Smiling coyly, with her free hand she allowed her firm breasts to burst forth from her lingerie, and found his wide-eyed gaze of pure homage intensely gratifying. Then she moved the candle over his chest again, just as a flash of light caught her attention and she turned her head in surprise, to see Mr Erasmus moving towards the bed holding a camera up to his face. The flash went off again, and again, and again.

  ‘Erasmus!’ bellowed the poor wallowing man between her thighs.

  ‘Hello, Sir Patrick,’ he said smugly, and snapped more pictures as Zoe finally had the presence of mind to try and cover her breasts with her arms.

  ‘Mr Erasmus!’ she cried, shocked.

  And then there was a strange double flash, and another one and another one, caused by a second camera, this one held by Allison Parker, standing just inside the doorway, and from the look on his face, Zoe adjudged this new development was not part of Mr Erasmus’s plan.

  ‘Enjoying yourselves?’ Allison asked sarcastically.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Erasmus demanded furiously.

  ‘Same thing you are, darling, only doing it better,’ the blonde gloated, and then Veronica Beacher was all but shoved forward into the crowded room. She stood there blushing for an instant, and then threw herself at Erasmus and flung him back across the bed.

  Zoe squawked as she was knocked aside, and Sir Patrick bellowed angrily again, pulling frantically against the bonds holding his wrists and ankles in place.

  ‘Get off me!’ Erasmus snarled.

  Then Selina jumped onto the bed, also completely naked, and grasped at his trousers, tugging them down while Allison laughed gaily and continued snapping pictures of the tangled bodies writhing wildly.

  Erasmus finally succeeded in twisting free of Selina and Veronica, and leapt across the room to make a grab for Allison’s camera.

  ‘Don’t touch,’ she warned vehemently, jerking the instrument out of his reach, and at that moment the ceiling collapsed above them and two men came crashing down through the ragged hole.

  Normand Miller and Charles Weatherby had been desperately pressing their eyes against the little hole in the plaster ever since Zoe and Erasmus entered the bedroom. They were completely baffled about Erasmus’s presence, but had cast their confusion aside in the face of Zoe’s beauty, her state of sexy dress, and the odd things she proceeded to do with the second man who entered the bedroom after the first had clambered into the closet.

  And as the action heated up, they began fighting for possession of the hole in the ceiling, putting too much weight on the plasterboard, which abruptly gave out beneath them.

  Everyone in the room was shocked by their appearance, but none so much as Erasmus and Allison, who had the misfortune of breaking their fall as they grappled for the camera. Both lay stunned, sprawled on the floor as the two men groaned and tried to push themselves up.

  ‘Untie me at once!’ Sir Patrick bellowed. Selina hurried to obey him, and once free, he quickly struggled into his clothes and snatched up both cameras.

  Beacher cringed visibly as his angry stare scythed from her, to Erasmus, and back to her. ‘She made me do it,’ she cried, pointing down at Allison. ‘She blackmailed me!’

  ‘Me too!’ Selina chipped in.

  ‘Well then, let’s see how they like a taste of their own medicine,’ he fumed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Normand Miller looked up from his work, and scarcely gave the girl in front of him a second glance. Her name was Ann Blatt, and thankfully, she weighed three hundred pounds and dressed like a nun.

  He sighed and dropped his eyes to his work once more. It was hard not to feel miserable now that he no longer had lovely Zoe to feast his eyes upon, though he knew he ought to be thankful he still had his job, not to mention his marriage and his freedom – and no broken bones. Sir Patrick had made it quite clear that he and Weatherby could both have been imprisoned were circumstances less… delicate.

  Normand had never been more embarrassed in his life, and quickly agreed to everything Sir Patrick ordered him to do, including keeping his mouth shut about everything he had seen.

  The office was less tense now that Allison Parker and Steven Erasmus had moved elsewhere. He did not know where they had gone, but was quite happy not to have to see them again, either of them. He sniggered quietly at the memory of Beacher applying lipstick and rouge to the dazed Erasmus, while he knelt on all fours beside Zoe’s bed. Selina and Zoe had then led the naked Allison Parker to him, and forced her to sit on his back while Sir Patrick snapped pictures.

  The chair before him creaked and groaned as Ann Blatt shifted and stood up. She waddled off across the room and he looked away, wistfully remembering how gracefully Zoe had moved, and as he allowed himself a very brief fantasy his telephone rang. ‘Yes?’ he said regretfully, the impressive erection of his daydream still embedded deep in her sweet, warm, welcoming mouth.

  ‘Hello, Normand…’

  Such was the incredible shock of hearing her lovely voice he very nearly fell off his chair, his pulse immediately raced and for a moment he couldn’t even say her name. ‘Z-Zoe?’ he eventually croaked.

  ‘Yes, Normand, I’m outside,’ she said sweetly, musically, into his ear. ‘Come out and see me.’

  She wanted revenge. She definitely wanted revenge. ‘Er, why?’ he asked.

  ‘Because I want to see you,’ she said simply. ‘I’m in my car. Honestly, Normand, I’m not angry with you,’ she promised.

  He sighed and grabbed his creased jacket from the back of his chair. He did not want to face Zoe Quincanon, but equally, he could not resist seeing her again.

  Outside, the bright sunlight momentarily blinded him, so he shielded his eyes with one hand and slung his jacket over his shoulder with the other. A horn beeped, and he squinted along the street towards a red Mercedes parked at the curb. A slender arm waved at him through the open window, and he licked his lips nervously as he moved apprehensively towards her.

  She was as beautiful as ever in a red, form hugging dress, her make-up perfect and only making him yearn for her even more desperately, even though he knew it was hopeless to cling on to such pathetic dreams. To his surprise she smiled up at him and opened the passenger door, so warily, unsure of her intent, he walked around the car and slipped in beside her.

  ‘It wasn’t nice of you to peep at me, Normand,’ she said, immediately admonishing him, albeit fairly mildly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, staring down at his lap like a scolded boy.

  ‘That’s all right. It was a little thing compared to everything else.’

  He looked at her uncertainly.

  ‘Sir Patrick had a long talk with me afterwards,’ she told him. ‘He warned me about predators like Erasmus, and how people like him would try to seduce and make me do what they demand or expect. Did you know they were going to put a picture of me in the paper?’

  ‘The paper?’ Normand knew no such thing, of course.

  Zoe nodded. ‘One of the tabloids,’ she said. ‘Allison Parker had a picture taken of me at the pool in a sheer swimsuit and I was destined to be an unwitting “page three girl”. Daddy would have been outraged, and very possibly ruined by the scandal.’

  Normand nodded dumbly, still unsure of why he was there, sitting so frustratingly close to the star of his fantasies.

  ‘So, I have to be very, very careful from now on,’ she confided.
‘I mean, even though I… well, I mean, I have to guard against getting a reputation and against vultures like Erasmus, who will lead me on for their own perverse gratification or to make trouble for my father. But… well, the thing is… I have these… well, there’s things I want to do and… I mean, if I don’t do them to relieve myself…’ she sighed and slumped a little in her seat, gazing plaintively at him.

  ‘I don’t think I understand what you’re saying,’ he said slowly, hoping against hope that he did understand perfectly well what she was saying, no matter how unbelievable it was. He was sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

  ‘You haven’t told anyone, have you, Normand?’ she asked angelically. ‘You know, about what went on?’

  ‘N-no, I haven’t,’ he stammered, ‘of course not.’

  ‘I didn’t think you would,’ she purred. ‘The thing is… Mr Erasmus used to… he used to do things to me that I found I quite liked, and I was wondering if you could… I mean, if maybe you would like to do them to me instead?’

  Normand Miller stared at the utterly adorable pouting beauty in stunned disbelief. At any moment now some cruel bastard would slug him with a sledgehammer and he’d wake up.

  ‘I know I can trust you not to tell anyone,’ she added quickly, as though she had to justify her request. ‘I know you’re not one of those men Sir Patrick warned me about, and you’re nice, even if you did spy on me. And so I thought, since you already sort of know things about me, and I know you’re, well, interested in me…’ she blushed modestly, ‘I thought maybe you could…’

  ‘Anything!’ he breathed. ‘Oh, God, anything!’

  She smiled happily and squeezed his hand, an innocent touch that nearly made his heart give out on him there and then – which would be just about Normand Miller’s usual luck. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he gasped, nodding fervently, ‘I’m sure!’