Falling Into Queensland

by Jacqueline George

  “Do you think you can put my shoes on, or do I have to do

  it myself?”

  “I can do it for you, Miss Marilyn. Please let me do it.”

  “Very well, but no staring, do you hear?”

  “Yes, Miss Marilyn.” He picked up her feet and eased her

  shoes back on.

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  She grabbed his hair again. “You little sneak. You were trying to peep!”

  “I wasn"t Miss Marilyn. Honestly, I wasn"t.”

  “I could see what you were trying to do. You wanted to stare at me, didn"t you? I know your sort. Well, if you want to look, look!” She had both hands laced in his hair, and she forced his head

  down. She spread her thighs wide and sat open to his gaze.

  “What are you looking at Jeremy?”

  “Er, it"s your, er, underwear, Miss Marilyn.”

  “It"s not my underwear, you nancy boy. It"s my panties. Do you like my panties, Jeremy?” She could feel him trembling with excitement and fear, and that excited her too.

  “I think they"re...”

  “You think what are, Jeremy?” she cut across him.

  “Your, er, panties, Miss Marilyn. I think your panties are very pretty.”

  She let him look at her for a moment longer before closing her legs. She pushed him back and said, “Oh, I"m sick of you. Go and sit over there, and take off that stupid apron. I"m going to have a look at the rest of the place. Don"t move an inch.”She could see into the kitchen/dining area, but went looking for bedrooms. There was only one. It was large and the walls on either side were wardrobes with sliding mirror doors. Mirrors covered the wall behind the head of the bed too, and she could see herself several times over, standing there dressed only in her black corset with red ribbons, and stockings held half way up her thighs by suspenders with tiny red bows at the clips.

  The bed was low and king sized, with a strong hardwood railing at the head. It was covered in a duvet decorated with a moon and stars motif in dark blue and gold. She stripped off the duvet and threw it into the corner.

  The room was lit only by the glow of two bedside lights. She searched for the light switches and found them at the door. She flicked them on and lights set above the wardrobes flooded the

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  room, turning it into a brilliant, mirrored goldfish bowl. Great, she thought, that"s going to make things a lot easier.

  In the living room, Jeremy was still sitting in his chair, uncertain whether he was permitted to look at her. “Come on, Jeremy. Let"s get you into the bedroom and see what you"re good for.” She picked up her bag and he followed her.

  She looked back over her shoulder. “Jeremy,” she warned, “You"re looking at my arse.”

  “No, Miss Marilyn, honestly.”

  “You"d better not be. You can keep those dirty thoughts to yourself. Right, up on the bed and lie still.” Quickly, he clambered onto the bed and lay on his back. “Now then, what would you like to do, Jeremy?”

  “Er, I don"t know, Miss Marilyn.”

  “Don"t know? You"re lying. You"ve got lots of filthy ideas in your head right now, haven"t you? Don"t shake your head, you know it"s true, and so do I. I suppose you"d like me to play with you, wouldn"t you? Go on, admit it.”

  “Yes please, Miss Marilyn.”

  “Yes please what? Tell me what you want.”

  “Please, Miss Marilyn, I"d like you to play with me.”

  “What makes you think I"d ever touch that dirty little

  thing?” She trailed the hair of the horse tail over his thighs and stomach. He had a good looking body, tightly muscled and completely hairless. He obviously spent time waxing. Then she thought, of course he doesn"t. He would just go somewhere luxurious and expensive, and get it done for him. She teased him some more with the horse tail. “Well, think again, Jeremy. I"m not going to touch it. You can look after yourself once I"ve left. What else do you want to do? Do you want to look at me?”

  “Yes, please, Miss Marilyn.”

  “And what exactly do you want to look at?”

  Jeremy strained and turned his head away. “Please could I look at your breasts, Miss Marilyn?”

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  The horse tail was still flowing slowly up and down his stomach. “You"re very greedy, Jeremy. How can I trust you? If I show you my breasts, you"ll lose control and try to touch them.”

  “Oh no, Miss Marilyn. I"d never do that.”

  “I don"t believe you. You"ll lose control, and then I"d have to stick this thing up your arse, wouldn"t I? I know what I"ll do. I"ll tie you down, and then I"ll show you my breasts . Would you like that, Jeremy?”

  He was biting his lip and trembling. She lifted the horse tail before it became too much for him, and put her bag on the bed. “Give me your hand.” She rooted through this afternoon"s shopping, wound a webbing strap around his wrist, and pressed the Velcro firmly closed. She tied his wrist to the bed post before going around the bed to deal with the other one. He was lying with his arms spread wide, but his legs were still free. She would have to do more before he was safe.

  She searched at the end of the bed, but there was nowhere

  to secure his ankles. She would have to improvise. “Can you move?” she asked.

  He pulled against his bonds. “No, Miss Marilyn.”

  “I still don"t trust you. Stay there.” She hurried into the living room and came back with her shirt. “Lift up your knees.”

  Uncertainly, he lifted his knees. Marilyn pushed them firmly apart so he was lying with knees spread and his ankles crossed. She stretched out her shirt by the sleeves and wound it tightly around his ankles, tying it off with a reef knot. Now he was pinned. He could not straighten his legs or bring his knees back together.

  “So, you want to see my breasts?”

  She turned her back on him. In the mirror she saw him steal

  a glance at her, and quickly turn his face to the ceiling. She pushed the straps of her corset off her shoulders, and folded the bra cups down. Her breasts sat in their underwires and stood out unnaturally. She turned to him and stood arms akimbo. “Is this want you want to see?”

  He swallowed. “You"re so beautiful, Miss Marilyn.”

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  “You think so? Mmh – now I suppose you would like to play with them.”

  “Yes, please, Miss Marilyn.”

  “Maybe, Jeremy, if you"re a good boy.”

  Right, she thought, now the burn. She kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed. With a foot on either side of his hips, she stood over him and thought about her next move. He was helpless because of the restraints, but also because of his craving for her body. His face was flushed and the veins stood proud on his stretched arms . She could do what she liked.

  “Do you like my panties, Jeremy? Do you want me to sit on

  you?”

  He nodded and his tongue slipped out to lick his lips. She knelt astride him. His body was warm and alive beneath her, and his chest felt hard and strong. She worked her way up his body, spreading her knees wide as they touched his arms. “Look at me, Jeremy. Are you looking at my panties? Look at me, Jeremy, look.” He raised his head and his tongue stretched out, but it was no good. She was out of reach.

  “That looks very nice, Jeremy. I think I"ll take a photograph of you down there. A nice souvenir to take home with me.”

  She felt a shock jolt through him, and he dropped his role-playing instantly. In his normal voice again he barked. “No. No photos. Definitely no photos. Get off me.” He struggled, but the ropes and her weight held him down.

  “What"s wrong, Jeremy? Don"t you like my pantiesanymore?” She reached for her bag and pulled out the camera. “Don"t worry, Jeremy. These are just for me. No-one else will ever know. Now, look at my panties.”

  Through the view finder, she could make out hi
s face between the wide vee of her stockinged legs. She tipped her hips back to bring more of her panties into sight. Jeremy was turning his head, trying to hide his face from the camera. She took a shot, and sat back to view it on the screen. Not bad. Mr Bradley-Smythe was still recognisable.

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  She moved to kneel on one leg near his head. With her other leg wide, her sex was within licking distance, but he had turned his head away from the camera. She pointed the camera at the mirrored wardrobe and took shots that showed his face, and her open thighsjust behind his ear.

  “Oh dear, Jeremy. You"re going soft, aren"t you? Don"t tell

  me you don"t love me anymore.” It was true. He had wilted in distress. She poked at him with her a finger tip. “Never mind, we"ll soon have you standing up again, won"t we?”

  She had set the camera down, and perhaps Jeremy was resigning himself to the inevitable. He had closed his eyes and appeared to be ignoring her. It was time for Marilyn to finish his

  treatment.

  She trailed the horse tail up and down his stomach, and he tensed again “. Look, you"re getting excited again. What would you like me to do, Jeremy? Would you like me to sit on you again?”

  Her offer brought his submission back immediately. “Yes, please, Miss Marilyn.”

  “Yes, please what?”

  “Please sit on me, Miss Marilyn. Please sit on me with your,

  er, your panties, Miss Marilyn. Please make me come.”

  She slashed at him with the horse tail. “How do you think

  I"m going to do that?” She whipped him harder, concentrating on his sex, dragging the hair across it with each stroke. Jeremy groaned, and suddenly it was happening. He was writhing and struggling in his bonds.

  “That"s disgusting,” she said, and trailed the horse tail across his stomach and on up over his chest. “So much – you must have been very excited, Jeremy. Was that all for me?”

  He looked down over his body. “Yes, Miss Marilyn.”

  “Very good. Now let"s see about getting you untied.”

  In spite of what she said, there were things to do first. She went to the living room to pull on her trousers and jacket. She would have to leave her shirt; there was no way to safely retrieve it. She unlatched the front door and left it ajar.

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  When she returned to the bedroom, Jeremy was watching her. She could not read his expression, but she had a fair idea of what must be going through his mind. She rummaged in her bag and brought out the handcuffs that they had carried from Australia. They were heavy and professional, and served to anchor him by one wristto the bedpost. She fumbled in her pocket for the key, and pushed it under the small of his back.

  “Now, just a couple more pictures, and I"ll be off.” She walked around the bed, taking pictures of his nakedness from different angles. “You know, you don"t look quite right. I wonder what you need. I think I"ve got just the thing.”

  She pulled a large padlock from her bag, the biggest the hardware had in stock. “Now, lie still. I don"t want to pinch you.” Working carefully, she hooked it behind and around his sex. It was difficult to fit everything in but she finally snapped the padlock closed.

  “There you are. You look just perfect. I must get a picture of that.” The brass body of the lock protruded into the air above his stomach. It would not be comfortable, and Jeremy would have an active souvenir of this evening. She took two more pictures, and put the camera away.

  “Now – how are we going to do this? I know. Where are your ties, Jeremy?” He did not answer and she searched the wardrobes for his tie rack. She tied two together to make a long rope, and knotted one end through the strap on the wrist without the handcuff. She wound the ties once around the bed post and, holding it tight, opened the Velcro of the restraint. Only his silk ties held his wrist now, and she retreated to the end of his tether, well out of reach.

  “When shall I come and see you tomorrow, Jeremy? Eleven

  o"clock? Will you have the paperwork ready by then?”

  “Yes, dammit! And bring the camera, or there won"t be any papers.”

  She smiled at him. “I don"t think you"re in any position to be making threats, Jeremy. I"ll bring the key to your padlock, but the

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  camera stays with me. It"s our insurance. It"ll keep you behaving like a gentleman. Don"t worry, we don"t understand pictures like that in Port Bruce, so no-one will ever see them. You don"t think I want to show my arse all over town, do you?

  “Now, I"m going to say thank you for a wonderful evening. That was a nice little diner you took me to. See you tomorrow.” She picked up her bag and, as she started for the door, let the end of the ties slip through her fingers.

  She was out of the apartment and on the street in moments. Roberts was waiting by the car and he opened the door. “No, mate. He"s after me. Where can I get a cab in a hurry?”

  “Oh, Jesus. He"s going to get himself into trouble one of these days. Hop in, and I"ll run you down to Oxford Circus. You can get a cab or the tube from there. And if he calls, you can just jump out.”

  Marilyn thought for a moment, and slipped in beside the driver. The cold was beginning to get past her jacket, and her new lingerie was no comfort. Roberts pulled away. “You OK, Miss? I mean...”

  “No, I"m fine, thanks mate. He might be really pissed off, but I"m fine. He do this sort of thing often, then?”

  Roberts snorted. “Every couple of weeks. Picks up some dolly bird, and out she comes all tears and running make up. I guess he pays them a bit for whatever he does, because there"s never any complaints later. None of them come out like you, Miss, if you don"t mind me saying.”

  The phone rang. Roberts held his finger to his lips and pulled over. “Yes Sir. – No, waiting just a couple of minutes away. – No, Sir. I didn"t see anyone. – Right you are, Sir. Nine-thirty tomorrow. Thank you, Sir, and good night.”

  He turned to her with a smile on his face. “There we are

  then. His Nibs does not require me anymore tonight, so I can run you all the way home, if you like. Unless you fancy a pint?”

  She thought about it. Her evening had been interesting and, more importantly, she had got everything she wanted. “Yes, mate.

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  Let"s do that. Show me a London pub and some of this terrible Pommy beer I"ve been hearing about. But make it somewhere warm; I"m freezing my arse off.”

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  Chapter 17

  Marilyn reached the office soon after nine o"clock. It was familiar territory now and she went straight to the security desk. She asked for the phone to call Stephanie.

  “G"day, Stephanie. It"s Marilyn. From yesterday, you remember. Hey, I need to unload my camera and I don"t have a computer with me – would you mind?”

  The security man used his key to open the lift door for her, and she rode up to the seventh floor. Stephanie was waiting at the lift for her. “Coffee, Marilyn? I"m afraid Mr Bradley-Smythe won"t be in for some time.”

  “No, let"s go to your office. I shouldn"t be here, really. Come on, and I"ll explain everything.” As she followed Stephanie up the corridor, Marilyn took a moment to admire her. She looked elegant and confident. Everything about her breathed „lady".

  Marilyn pulled the camera and its cable from her pocket, and laid them on the table. “I"m afraid I had a little trouble with your Jeremy last night. I expect you"ve heard that sort of thing before?”

  Stephanie had her hand at her mouth. “Well, not directly. But people talk, you know.”

  “Well then. You know what I"m talking about, I suppose. Never mind, I think I sorted him out, but I got the feeling he wasn"t going to give me the papers I need.”

  “Oh, no. There was an email waiting for me, and he says we have to have everything ready for eleven o"clock
without fail. Is that a problem?”

  Marilyn smiled happily. “Magic! I must have managed to persuade him after all. So that"s six separate accounts or whatever you call them.”

  “Yes – one for each man. I"ve started on it already. They do look a bit strange, but I suppose driving licence photos never come out well.”

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  “Oh, we"re all a bit strange in Port Bruce. You ever come to Australia? You"ll have to come up and see me. I"ll take care of you, and I can guarantee it"s nothing like London. Rupert didn"t take to it so well, but he"s a bit of a wimp. You"d be OK.”

  “Rupert?”

  “That guy I brought with me yesterday. Do you know him?”

  “Actually, we rarely see anyone from down there. I"d never met him before. He did strike me as a bit, you know, weak.”

  “That"s the one. Weak. But his girlfriend"s a different kettle of fish. Her uncle left her a place in Port Bruce, and she"s settled right in. If we"re lucky, she won"t want to come back here.”

  “Really? Isn"t it a bit, well, wild where you are?”

  “Definitely. We"re all a bunch of savages up there. But you"ll be alright. We won"t eat you, or if we do, we"ll make a point of using a knife and fork.”

  Stephanie giggled. “It sounds fun. I might just turn up on your doorstep one day.”

  “You"d be welcome. Anytime. Now, these photos. Could you put them on a disk for me?”

  “Yes, if you like, but a memory stick would be even better. Easier to carry.”

  “Do you have one? Well, thank you. Now, I really don"t want these pics to stay on your computer. They"re a touch embarrassing. I mean, I wouldn"t mind you seeing them, I suppose, but if Jeremy knows you"ve seen them...”