by E V Daymuir
‘Agenda for the meeting.’ She placed the folder on the desk and flicked it open with a long, well manicured, bright red finger nail. The same nail tapped on item eight, towards the bottom the page. She whispered her advice. ‘You might want to prepare for this, it’s a late addition to the agenda.’
Natasha read the sub heading – Dynamic Sales Performance. She was none the wiser. ‘What do I need to prepare?’
Penny shook her head in despair. ‘I worry about you Barrie. Sally Barnard has produced figures which she reckons proves Dynamic is not working. It was your baby so she’s gunning for you and she’s fuming over the amount of commission Samantha Derby is earning. She’s been griping to Duggie about it. She can’t live with the fact that Sam’s take-home pay is more than hers.’
Natasha wondered if Penny really did worry about Barrie and that was why she fed him with inside information. ‘Thanks Pen.’
‘Not at all, Barrie.’ She smiled, winked, turned and walked to the door. She was wearing stockings. The immaculate seams and high stiletto heels enhanced her long slender legs. She paused by the door, looked over her shoulder, pouted her lips into a kiss and swayed her shapely bottom from side to side. The message was clear; Barrie was expected to perform in return for the favour. Well, hard luck thought Natasha, thanks for the tip Penny but Barrie’s penis is going to stay tightly zipped. Even as she made the silent vow, she felt the damn thing stir. Payment of the debt was beginning to look inevitable, but for now, she had other things to think about. She scrolled down to Barrie’s number on her mobile and pressed the dial button. There was less than an hour before the Board Meeting and she badly needed Barrie’s advice.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dudley Wink was in a hurry to finish his round… He normally got home by midday when he would have a routine nap, but not today. Today he had some very special material to download onto his computer. He pulled swiftly into Laburnham Court and braked sharply by the entrance. Charlie, the doorman, walked out to meet him, which was good, he could handle the letters over and make a quick get-away.
‘Thanks Charlie. Quite a bundle today.’
Charlie took the letters and leant through the open window for a quiet word. ‘You couldn’t do me a favour, could you Dudley?’
‘Sure, you name it.’ Dudley always received a good Christmas Box from Laburnham Court and he knew Charlie was responsible for collecting it. He selected first gear and revved the engine ready for the off.
‘That’s great; I knew you wouldn’t let me down. It’s the woman in the Penthouse; she would like a quick word. Wants an earlier delivery.’
‘Ah, I’m not sure about that, Charlie. I’ll have to speak to my boss and see her some other time.’ He revved the engine a little harder. Charlie put a restraining hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.
‘She’s very generous at Christmas Dudley. Her contribution makes up over half of what I collect for you.’
Dudley knocked the van out of gear and stopped the engine. As much as he wanted to get home and zoom into some close-ups of Natasha Billingsgate’s pussy, financially it would be sensible to see the woman in the penthouse.
‘Will the van be alright here?’
‘No problem. I’ll keep an eye on it, but leave the keys so I can move it if needs be.’
Dudley followed Charlie Bell into reception. Charlie handed back the bundle of letters. ‘Sort out the ones for the Penthouse Dud – you can take them up. I’ll give her a call to let her know you’re on your way.’
Dudley sorted through the letters. Most of them were for the Penthouse, so Dudley simply pulled out the others, leaving those addressed to Ms L Lovebrace held together by the red rubber band.
Charlie returned. ‘You can go straight up.’ He led Dudley to the lift and reached in to push the button. ‘Only goes to the Penthouse, so you can’t get lost, I know what you postmen are like.’
Dudley searched for a smart answer, but the doors closed before he could come up with one. The lift was quiet, smooth and obviously fast, for within a few seconds, the doors opened and he stepped out onto deep pile carpet. He was in a plush reception area with leather armchairs set around a rich mahogany coffee table to one side of a grand front door. Should he sit at the table and wait, or was he expected to go straight in? There was a bright red telephone on the coffee table and he was about to use it to announce his arrival, when the door slid quietly to one side, to reveal a small hallway and another door. He walked through and felt uneasy when the front door clicked shut, trapping him between the two. He waited for what seemed in eternity, but in reality it was only for the ten seconds required by scanners to do their work.
‘Metal object in pocket.’ said a mechanical voice. ‘Please take metal object from pocket and place in bin to your left.’
Dudley took the penknife from his trouser pocket and placed it in the bin. The lid snapped shut.
‘You are cleared to leave.’ The second door swung open and he walked through into a corridor. He could have turned left or right, but as there was an open door directly opposite, he took tentative steps through and found himself in a long room with dark red drapes and dark red flock wallpaper. It all seemed vaguely familiar and his brain was racing, trying to remember where he’d seen something like it before, when there was a sharp crack and all the lights in the room went out. A figure in silhouette appeared in a doorway at the far end of the room. It was difficult to make out the detail, but it was definitely feminine, very shapely with legs astride in a dominant pose. A hand, holding what looked like a stick was raised, then pointed towards him, followed by another sharp crack.
‘Have you been a good boy, Dudley?’
Dudley stopped mid-stride and dropped the letters. There was no need to see the face to know who the voice belonged to; he knew only too well.
‘Nymphie Nita! What the fuck are you doing here?’
The lights in the long room slowly brightened to full power and there she was, in all her erotic splendour wearing an under bust corset, stockings and suspenders, black elbow length gloves and stilettos. She posed with whip raised, hips at an angle which thrust her bare sex towards him.
‘I live here Dudley and, if you don’t mind, please use my professional name, Anita von Beta.’
Dudley wanted to look away. Pussy was his favourite thing, he loved to study it in the minutest detail more than anything else in the world – but in secret. This was not what he wanted and Anita Von Beta knew it. Leaning back from the hips, fashion model style, sex fully exposed, she took several paces forward, stopped within six feet, struck her original pose and cracked the whip which flicked at the greying hair drooping over his forehead.
‘Pick up my letters, Dudley.’
Dudley crouched down to retrieve them, trying not to look at her gaping pussy. The handle of the whip gave a warning rap on his shoulder.
‘Look at my cunt Dudley. I thought you were obsessed with it? You took enough close-ups of it with your secret cameras.’ Dudley looked at it and whimpered, dropping down on hands and knees to find the letters. She moved forward again and he was forced to look up into her as she stood menacingly over him.
‘What did you like best, Dudley? When I played with my clit?’ She reached down between her thighs with her left hand and used two gloved fingers to expose her clitoris. He had forgotten how big it was, all his videos and photographs had been confiscated. That was part of the deal, if not he would have revisited her clitoris time and time again. It crossed his mind that he would soon be able to examine the beautiful Natasha’s pussy and zoom in tight for a good view, and she would never know; that’s what turned him on, not this… He tried to look away, but the handle of the whip pressed hard against his cheek as a reminder.
‘You must look Dudley. It’s part of your therapy. So, was it me playing with my clit that turned you on? Or perhaps inserting something up my cunt, like this?’
She took the whip handle away from his cheek and pushed it into her vagina. Dudley
Wink squirmed and looked away. That turned her on and she placed her left hand on his head, tangled her fingers in his hair and jerked it back. He was sobbing now; she could feel his head shaking through her gloved hand. ‘How much would you like to see go in, Dudley?’ She pulled his head closer and pushed the handle of the whip deeper. When it brushed against the right spot, she groaned and made a soft mewing sound on every upward thrust. ‘Are you going to help by licking my clit, Dudley?’ She was breathing quickly now. ‘I bet you could be good with your tongue if only you could learn to participate.’
‘You’re a fucking nymphomaniac Nita. Ouch!’ She jerked his head towards her thighs. ‘We both know what I am, but what about you? You get your rocks off by peeping. You’re a sick little bastard who would have got away with it, but became greedy and tried to blackmail some of my clients, but this time you are going to participate. I want to come and you’re going to help me.’ She pushed her sex into his face and quickened her action with the whip handle. Dudley Wink had no desire to participate but had little choice; her erect clitoris was rubbing against his lips and giving her pleasure even if he was reluctant to use his tongue. Reaching her climax would not take long. It wasn’t going to be earth shattering, but when you come countless times a day, you can’t expect every orgasm to be breathtakingly spectacular. She dropped the whip to the floor and placing both hands on the back of his head, pressed his mouth against her sex. He was moaning or gagging, she wasn’t sure which, but didn’t care as the orgasm built within her and she flicked her clitoris frantically against his nose. She screamed as she came, not because the orgasm was intense, but because she knew he would hate the thought of being instrumental in providing her with so much pleasure.
Dudley Wink could smell her strong, cloying perfume which, together with being stifled by moist labia, made him want to gag. He had always fantasised about doing this to the women he had secretly photographed, Nymphie Nita included. In fact, the size of her clitoris put her on the top of his list, but the reality was not what he had imagined. She was pressing his mouth hard into her pussy, and the large clitoris, which he fantasised about slowly sucking until it drove her wild, was being rubbed hard against his nose. She always fucked frantically, which is why he had nicknamed her Nympie Nita. Very few of her lovers, in most cases customers, could hold on long enough for her and as a consequence he obtained some wonderful footage of her masturbating practices. He knew she was sick, but at the time he loved her; now he hated her as her squeals became louder and more frequent. She reached her climax with a loud scream, then, something strange happened, her true fragrance broke through the heavy perfume and he got an immediate erection. She let go of his hair and pulled her sex back from his face. ‘You can get up now Dudley.’
But his only response was to put both hands on her bare buttocks and draw her back. She felt her clitoris slip into his mouth and his teeth slide over it as he started a gentle sucking and nibbling motion. Christ, he’s enjoying it! She arched backwards and sank down to her knees. His mouth hungrily followed and she began thrusting her pelvis up and down to speed up the process, but he would not be hurried. Slowly and surely he bought her to a wonderful screaming climax, ignoring her instructions to bite and at precisely the right moment, reaching up to tug gently at her erect nipples. Her orgasm was complete when she felt the juices spill out onto her breasts and as he slowly raked his teeth along her clitoris for the last time, she writhed and gasped with pleasure.
‘Wherever did you learn to do that, Dudley?’
‘I’ve watched all sorts of techniques,’ he said, retrieving the bundle of letters and getting to his feet. She looked at the front of his navy blue trousers.
‘My, my, you’ve got a little hard on.’ He flushed and covered the appropriate area with the letters. She felt under the letters for his penis and smiled up at him.
‘That was very good Dudley. Now, can I do something for you?’
Dudley pulled away. ‘Fuck off Nita!’
She stood up. In her stilettos she was taller by about four inches.
‘Now, Dudley, there’s no need to get personal. I asked you up here because I want to make you a business proposition, and it will be so much easier if we are friends, or at least civil to each other. I’m prepared to forget the past and I think that’s pretty big of me considering you were the guilty party.’ Dudley sniffed and held the bundle of letters tight over his erection. He was willing it to go away. ‘It seems to me you’ve asked me up here to humiliate me.’
‘Well, that is partly true. I did want to pay you back a little for all the trouble you caused, but to be honest; it’s backfired because you have given me the best oral sex I’ve ever had.’ She was lying, but it was amongst the top one hundred, or perhaps even the top fifty. It had certainly surprised her. She stretched out a hand and place it lightly on his shoulder. ‘So it’s up to you Dudley. You can have whatever you like from my list. I charge five hundred for a blow job and one thousand for a fuck. You can have whatever you want for free. Both if you like?’
He shrugged her hand away. ‘And if I can’t perform, you’ll laugh your tits off. You’ve already made a nasty comment about my size’ She reached out to him again, but this time to take the bundle of letters. She looked him square in the face, resisting the temptation to look down at the bulge in his trousers.
‘I promise I won’t laugh Dudley, size isn’t everything believe me, and I should know. It’s what you can do with it that counts.’ She held her other hand out to him. ‘Come on let’s go into my office.’ He took her hand and meekly followed as she led him through the door into her bedroom. He saw himself in several angled mirrors as they approached an enormous bed. ‘I thought we were going to your office?’ She laughed. ‘You of all people should know that this is where I do most of my business.’ His laugh was spontaneous. Of course he knew, and considering their history, he was amazed that she was prepared to joke with him about it. Despite himself and their history, he was warming to her. He looked around the room. No windows, just mirrors and artificial lighting; a replica of the bedroom in her Mayfair flat.
She placed the letters on a bedside table and pressed a button on a digital display.
Soft blues music began to play. He pointed to the letters. ‘They’re addressed to Ms Lovebrace,’ She turned, swaying in time with the music and began to slowly pull off the elbow length gloves. ‘I am Lucinda Lovebrace.’ She dropped the last glove nonchalantly to the floor in perfect time with the end of a phrase.
‘What happened to Anita Von Beta?’
‘I changed my name to protect the innocent.’
He laughed. ‘Which ones were innocent?’
‘Well, perhaps not the high court judge or the government minister, but there were many ordinary clients whom I had no wish to see exposed.’
‘Anyone who can afford a thousand pounds a go can’t be ordinary, not in my book.’
‘Ah, you’d be surprised. A lot of them saved up. I saw them once every four or six weeks, some only once a year, but they obviously felt it was worth it.’
She pushed another button on the digital display and the lights slowly dimmed.
‘So what will it be, Dudley?’
His erection was beginning to ache, but would he be able to perform? He could possibly fake it if he was having proper sex with her but she would definitely find out that he was a premature ejaculator if she gave him a blow job.
‘I’d prefer the second option,’ he said.
‘You mean a fuck?’
He winced and nodded his head. She moved forward. placed her hands on his shoulders and looked at him with what he took for genuine concern. ‘You don’t like it when I refer to it as a fuck, do you?’ Having given her the best oral sex she had ever had, he was beginning to feel masterful. ‘No and I don’t like you calling your pussy a cunt, either.’
‘Has anyone ever called you one?’ she asked sweetly.
He laughed. ‘Very likely.’
‘You’re so old
fashioned,’ she said, unbuttoning his shirt, ‘you probably do it in your pyjamas.’ He shrugged. ‘My wife insists on that.’
‘You poor thing, no wonder you’re a pervert.’
Dudley Wink had never thought of himself as a pervert, not even when he was caught and shamed at the age of fifteen for hiding in the girls’ toilets at school. All his mates thought it pretty normal. His parents, although they claimed to be disappointed with his behaviour, quietly smiled to themselves in the knowledge that there could not be much wrong with their boy. But they did not know, as he did not know, that although he was very attracted to girls, he would rather watch than touch. Watching them play netball in skirts which exposed their knickers at the merest jump, twist or bend, was a particular joy.
He was bright, but not academic and wanted to work, rather than spend another two years in further education. His father managed to wangle him a job in a small plumbing business in West London. In the strictest sense, it was not an apprenticeship, but he learnt the trade as he went along and as he became more useful to the firm, they gave him a day off a week to attend a college and gain an NVQ. Plumbers were beginning to earn good money and by the time he had his qualification, he could pick and choose where he worked. Plumbing new houses was hard work and not a lot of fun, but visiting private homes on call out, placed him in an ideal environment to secretly look at women. They could be so casual in their own surroundings and many of them forgot he was around. On a good day an attractive housewife would bend down to show him where her washing machine was leaking, forgetting that she was wearing a very short skirt. Or perhaps forget he was there and not close the bedroom door. He had a photographic memory and found that he could replay these images in his mind as he lay on his bed masturbating.
