“Please ... don’t
make me do this.”
He settled a little
further back into the tan leather chair and steepled his fingers before slowly
reaching for the phone.
“All right! You win.”
Her voice, up until
then so well modulated, quavered and even now, having surrendered, she seemed
to be having difficulty in making her limbs obey. The others sat still, hardly
daring to breathe, as they waited for events to unfold. Slowly, she began to unfasten the jacket
buttons of her expensively tailored business suit but, as she came to the last
one, she made a final entreaty.
“For God’s sake! I’ll
do as you ask but send them away.”
His deep brown,
inscrutable, eyes narrowed very slightly and then the slightest of smiles
crossed his face.
“I think not.”
The relief from the
others was almost palpable and Carlisle shifted self-consciously at his end of
the sofa. She took some comfort from this apparent nervousness and, for a few
seconds, she was the ‘Queen Bitch’ of old. She unfastened the final button and
allowed the jacket to slide off of her shoulders. Underneath she wore a white
silk blouse and her made to measure bra pointed up her breasts to devastating
effect. She knew the power of her own body and she had used it to great
advantage over many years.
The blouse was
buttoned to the neck and, as she started to undo it, she held his gaze and
tried to impart as much disdain as she was capable of. He held her stare evenly
and remained impassive.
The bra was cut to
emphasis her cleavage and, as she reached the fourth button, Milton whispered.
He ignored the
remark; after all, they were new to this. She pulled the blouse free from her
skirt to facilitate the opening of the last button and then she began to
unfasten the skirt itself. The zip sounded both unnaturally loud and erotic in
the confines of the office as she slowly pulled it down, but eroticism was the
furthest thing from her mind. As she unclipped the waistband, and let the skirt
fall to the floor, the sofa creaked as both Carlisle and Milton leant further
forward almost as one.
Her legs were long
and shapely, and he felt the first twinge of lust at the sight of her navy-blue
stockings. She wore heels to further emphasis her height, but they also served
to give her pelvis a slightly arrogant thrust and his eyes were drawn to her
lace edged panties which formed a match with the provocative brassiere. She
stood still for a moment with the loose blouse lending some vestige of modesty
and raised her head almost imperceptibly. This was her last throw of the dice.
The look of disdain was slowly replaced by a knowing smile. She was offering
herself, but to him alone. He touched his index finger to his lips as though
weighing the possibilities and then shattered her hope.
“Let’s not keep these
good gentlemen waiting.”
She gave a quiet
snarl, which embraced any number of unspoken threats, but he was sure that
there was nothing that he had missed. She removed the blouse as though it was
of no consequence, allowing it to fall on top of the discarded jacket and there
she stood. If he took a photograph at this moment he knew he could name his
price. The tabloids would have a feeding frenzy. The public acknowledged her as
a beauty, but one had to see her in the flesh to truly appreciate her. She was
in her late thirties now, but her body had retained its athletic tone from her
days as a potential teenage tennis prodigy. Her skin was flawless and she was
of the type to tan easily, but the paparazzi had never snared her. Her
shoulders were broad which helped to keep her heavy breasts in proportion and
tapered to a narrow waist before letting on to the legs, which, over the years
had elicited so many favourable comments.
Her features had
always put him in mind of the young Elizabeth Taylor, with her dark eyes
surmounted by carefully sculpted eyebrows, but the resemblance was even more
marked when she was angry. Her glossed lips were locked together but threatened
to part at any moment and hurl forth a stream of invective.
She reached behind
her back, one-handed, to unfasten her bra but paused momentarily and surveyed
the windows. There were large picture windows on two walls offering views of
the Tate Gallery to the north and the Houses of Parliament to the east further
along the river but, unless someone was minded to take a powerful telescope to
the top of Saint Paul’s, the twenty-first floor office would not be overlooked.
Thus reassured, she deftly flicked open the single clip but she held the cups
in place with her other arm.
“Is this what you get
Her voice was angry
and at the edge of breaking but he could hear that she really had a need to
“I thought you knew.”
The reminder that she
had had him investigated and had thereby brought all this on herself was the
last straw. A tear broke from the corner of her eye and, with desolate
resignation, she pulled the bra away from her chest and dropped it to the
floor. Her breasts were much as he had imagined them. They were a pair of firm
gourds with large brown oval nipples that seemed almost designed for rough
play. He took his time in appraising them enjoying her ever-growing discomfort.
She faltered, and
fresh tears welled up, but finally she made a hesitant quarter turn.
“Take your arm away!”
She had attempted to
cover herself as she turned to face the sofa, but he was having none of it. She
summoned up what was left of her pride, dropped her arm, and then, refusing to
meet their stares she fixed her gaze on the London skyline. Carlisle and Milton
were transfixed. They had been to clubs, they had paid for private dances, but
this was something of a different order. Here was the woman who might lead
“Rub your nipples.”
She turned to him in
“Surely you ...”
“... Do it!”
The sudden snap in
his voice jolted her. She shivered but she did as she was told. She took hold
of her nipples between thumb and finger and massaged them dispassionately but,
nevertheless, they were coaxed into life.
“Take your hands
Her hands dropped to
her sides and he was pleased with the result. The areolae now had a darker hue
and the teats stood out rigidly, giving rein to his fervent imagination.
Without being told she turned back towards the sofa and stared out of the
window. He knew that she was trying to set her mind free from the living
nightmare that he was making her go through but she was not to know that he was
only warming up.
“Down on your knees.”
Her eyes flickered
nervously but she fell to her knees with as much grace as she could muster and
knelt up with a straight back. Her face was now level with Carlisle’s but she
was looking straight through him.
It was hard to say
who was the more shocked. Everything that Carlisle had learned from the
image-makers about maintaining his poise suddenly deserted him. He loosened his
tie and ran a finger around the inside of his shirt collar which immediately
seemed to become more constricting. She turned so quickly she almost fell off
“You can’t make me
“... who’s making
you? You’re doing this of your own free will.”
This was patently
untrue. She could of course get up and leave the room but it would be with the
knowledge that he would surely destroy the rest of her life with a single phone
call. He could almost see the thoughts boiling in her skull as she weighed the
possibilities against the probabilities and in the end she remained on her
Her hands slowly
reached forward and Carlisle, fearful of breaking the spell, drew his breaths
in painfully shallow draughts. The immaculately groomed golden boy, so beloved
of the television cameras, looked as though he had had a sudden reversion to
adolescence. Her fingers found the zip of his trousers and she tugged it open.
“Take it out.”
She was working on
autopilot as her hand delved into the confines of his trousers and, with a deft
twist, pulled out his erection. She knelt back, leaving it standing free and he
noted with an inner smile that, like Carlisle’s politics, it leaned to the
right. It seemed odd that the larger than life political wannabe was so
modestly endowed but, modest or not, it looked painfully stiff.
“Suck him off.”
She knew what was
coming but hearing the crude words spoken out loud made her flinch. Her hand reached forward again and, as her
fingers encircled him, the perfectly polished red nails appeared almost
predatory. Carlisle drew a sharp breath through clenched teeth as she pulled
down on his shaft, completely freeing the engorged head. She held it steady for
a few seconds whilst she girded herself and then, her decision made, she leant
Milton half turned on
the sofa to get a better view but, at the same time, he moved further away as
if to disassociate himself. The ramifications of what they were doing were all
too obvious, but he was too caught up in it to take the rational course.
Her lips parted as
her face moved nearer and her expression was a mix of revulsion and
determination as she sought to get it over and done with as quickly as
He watched as she
allowed a lazy trail of spittle to break from her lower lip to coat the head of
Carlisle’s cock and the sudden transformation from woman of substance to
knowing whore caused his own erection to flare painfully. He dropped his hand
surreptitiously beneath the desk and endeavoured to make himself more
comfortable without unfastening his trousers but to little or no avail.
Now that his cock was
lubricated she began to pump rhythmically with her hand and Carlisle bounced
gently in the sofa like an oversized toy. She could sense that he would not
last long, but she also knew that she would not be allowed to get away with it
that easily. She gave a few more strokes and then she bent to close her lips
over the purple head. She did not suck but remained perfectly still whilst her
hand carried on doing all the work.
The expletive came
from Carlisle as he attempted to arch his back and drive himself deeper into
her mouth, but she simply made the downstrokes a little more forceful to keep
him in his place. His eyes closed, and the flats of his hands pressed down into
the sofa as he tried to hold back but he was already lost. She gave a dozen
rapid strokes and then pulled down hard on his shaft.
Even from his desk he
could see her cheeks throbbing as she accepted his offering but Carlisle had
barely finished before she let him go, sat back, and swallowed as discreetly as
possible. She turned back towards the desk.
“Have you had your
She had regained her
composure and Carlisle’s lack of self-control had given her back some of the initiative,
but he was not finished with her yet.
“On the contrary, the
fun is only just beginning.”
She followed his eyes
as he cast them towards Milton.
“No! I’ve done as you
asked. Enough is enough.”
He could understand
her reticence; if Carlisle was the stuff of the image-makers dreams Milton was
their nightmare. At forty-four he was only five years older than Carlisle but
the gap looked nearer to ten. He possessed one of the keenest political minds
of his generation but it was housed in a large ungainly frame. He stood well
over six feet tall but. with his round shoulders and barrel chest, suits did
not sit easily on him. His face was puffy with razor burns at his throat,
suggesting that he had never learned to shave properly and his pale complexion
contrasted sharply with his almost unnaturally black hair.
He got up from behind
the desk and reached for the drawer.
“You will do it.”
The authority in his
voice was chilling and for a second or two all three of them were stilled by
it. He let the silence hang and then he showed them the flail. The well-worn
wooden handle spoke of frequent use and the two dozen leather strands included
two or three darker replacements amongst their number.
She stared at it in
“You cannot be
serious. What are you? Some sort of medieval throwback?”
He ignored her and
looked at the other two. Now was the defining moment. Now he would find out
whether or not he had them.
“Bring her over
They looked at one
another and he could almost read their thoughts. With whom did their future
lie? She could tell that they had reached a decision and she half rose and
began to back away from them.
“If you so much as
touch me I’ll scream the bloody place down!”
They hesitated and
she made a blind grab for her clothing but they all turned to him sharply as he
thrashed the flail down across the surface of the desk.
“This room is
soundproofed so you can scream as loud as you like. In fact, I’ll be
disappointed if you don’t.”
shocked by the remark, but Milton’s more practical mind started weighing the
“What if she goes to
He smiled. The very
fact that Milton could debate the outcome told him that he was contemplating
“It’s her word
against our three.”
They looked deep into
one another’s eyes. Common sense was telling them to have no part in this, but
they had already witnessed the power he held over her and they were being
driven by baser instincts. It was Milton who reacted first and there was
probably no surprise in that, after all Carlisle had already had the pleasure.
“Leave me alone!”
Milton stepped behind
her, whilst she was still off balance, and took hold of her arms.
“Get her legs.”
He said it calmly but
Carlisle was suddenly galvanised into action. He chose his moment and then
stepped between her thrashing legs and took a firm grip on her ankles. She
squirmed like a fish and swore like a trooper as they manhandled her over to
“Get her face up.”
The telephone went
flying as she continued to struggle but he ignored it as they lay her down and
used their weight to hold her in place.
“You bastards! Get
off me ... now!”
“What the hell’s
Carlisle saw what he
had now taken out of the desk drawer. It looked like a pair of pliers except
that it had a clear plastic drum in the centre.
“It’s a cable tidy.
Left here by one of the computer people.”
Carlisle bore down
with more weight as she renewed her struggles and then watched as the drum
extruded two lengths of fine white plastic. He formed them into two loose
interlocking loops and then, keeping them in his hand, he leaned over her
“Keep away from me!”
He ignored her, bent
down and began to slowly lick her nipple. She jerked wildly but with Carlisle
pressed down over her thighs and Milton leaning his weight down onto her upper
arms her range of movement was too limited to prevent him from doing anything
he wanted. He was good with his mouth and he knew it. He took her nipple
between his lips and began to suck gently, feeling it ripening in his mouth.
She groaned and tried
to get away from him as her body reacted against her wishes, but there was no
escaping the exquisite torture of his tongue. When he had her fully erect he
gave her one final nip with his teeth and then stood up. He placed one of the
loops over the nipple and then threaded the two ends through the pliers.
With a single tug the
fine serrated barbs zipped closed and, with an ominous click, they were cinched
together. One loop was now fastened tightly and immovably around her nipple,
causing it to swell even more, whilst the second, still interconnected, hung
loose. He repeated the process on her other breast with two new lengths of
plastic but this time, now that she was aware of her fate, it took much longer
to coax her nipple to life.