“Does he
do everything?”
“Anything and more.”
“And his
wife approves?”
“She
positively encouraged it. Her only stipulation is that the session be filmed.”
The
larger woman looked across to where a discreet camera, connected to a laptop,
whirred quietly on a side table. He, for
his part, stood in the middle of the room trying to fight down his rising
anger. They were discussing him as though he were a commodity to be accepted or
rejected as they saw fit.
Just a few short weeks ago
he could have bought and sold them several times over but, for the time being,
he was vulnerable and, galling as it was, he was going to have to go along with
whatever they wanted.
Corrine gave the slightest of smiles.
“Get yourself undressed.”
He looked at her and bit back the expletive that
nearly sprang to his lips. He guessed that she was probably only a year or two
older than himself, maybe forty-five at most, which
must have made her one of the youngest directors of the bank in many years. In
days gone by she had been quite a beauty and, if he were churlish, he would say
that she had used it to her advantage but the truth was that she was a tireless
worker who had even sacrificed her marriage for the sake of her career. The
long hours had taken their toll. Her once perfect complexion now needed more
makeup to disguise the crows’ feet around her eyes and her hair was more salt
than pepper. She still had a good, but not exceptional, figure suggesting that
she was very much a part of the company gym generation.
The other woman was a complete contrast. He had not
been introduced to her but he guessed that she was Turkish. He knew from the
financial press that Corrine’s bank was in takeover talks with the Ottoman Bank
of Istanbul and he surmised that this was one of the executives that had been
flown over as part of the courtship ritual. She spoke flawless English, albeit
with a slight American accent and, although she appeared to be only in her late
twenties, she had about her the air of someone who was used to having her own
way.
She had a round face with a dark complexion
and a slightly large mouth in which her bottom lip hung lazily but her dark
eyes, immaculately outlined in kohl, bespoke a shrewd intelligence. She was big
bodied but just how big he could not tell. She was wearing an iridescent
embroidered silk shawl over a full-length dress in shades of aquamarine velvet.
It appeared to be a variation of a national costume but he suspected that the
original design did not incorporate the scooped neckline that displayed a more
than impressive cleavage.
“Come
on! We haven’t got all night.”
He stood
frozen, trying to come to terms with the surreal situation in which he found
himself. Surely any moment now Ellen would burst into the room and confirm that
it had all been a joke but the door remained stubbornly closed. The Turkish
woman looked towards Corrine, whose patience was being stretched.
“If you
are not naked inside the next ten seconds I will make the phone call.”
To illustrate her point she
picked up her mobile phone and switched it on. He felt his body tremble in
frustration but he told himself that if he could just get through this one
ordeal, he could buy himself enough time to get things sorted out.
He
started to undress perfunctorily - he was damned if he was going to put on more
of a show than he had to - and threw his clothes onto the armchair. He was not
as trim as he was when he had given up vets football a
little over three years earlier but he got to the gym as often as he could and
stayed in reasonably good shape. He had just the makings of a paunch but he
still had his holiday tan and knew that he could attract more than the occasional
admiring glance. As he slipped off his boxer shorts he cast an eye in the
direction of the camera. Was she watching? Dare he speak? These were
professional people, in the same mould as him, surely they could see the absurdity of
the situation; if he could only reason with them he might yet escape his fate
but Ellen had made it absolutely clear, if he spoke out of turn, without
invitation, it was all over.
When he
was finally naked Corrine pointedly looked him up and down.
“You
know, over the years, I’ve often imagined you naked somehow I thought you would
be …bigge ...”
He was
shocked, not so much by the jibe about his size, he
knew that he was lucky enough to be on the right side of average, but by the
idea that women could have such thoughts. He had the impression that undressing
with the mind was very much a male prerogative.
“… I
guess that I’ve been spoiled by the agency.”
Now it
was the Turkish womans turn to look puzzled. Corrine
smiled at her and patted her on the leg.
“When I
broke up with my husband I just didn’t seem to find the time or the inclination
to form new relationships but I still had needs. A friend of mine introduced me
to the agency. Nice, clean-cut, good looking young men all well endowed and
with stamina to match. The prices are reasonable too. I treat myself to two at
once from time to time.”
He
looked at her, aghast. This woman, who had acted as his financial right arm for
such a long time, a paragon of professionalism, stood revealed as some kind of
sex maniac who, worse still, was happy to pay for it! He looked at the Turkish
woman, expecting to see his own disgust mirrored in her face but all that he
found was an enigmatic smile.
“You’re
not going to be much use to us like that. Put a bit of life into it.”
He was
unsure whether or not he had heard correctly and, taken with her earlier
remarks, he was now worried. She had
spoken as though there were more to it than mere humiliation. He could
understand Ellen’s anger, he could even understand her involving Corrine, but
now that he had taken his medicine and had been appropriately “shamed” surely
that was an end to the matter. It had
come as something of an embarrassing surprise to find Corrine in the company of
a complete stranger but in some ways that had helped. His biggest fear was that
he would find himself with an uncontrollable erection and dreaded the message
that that might have sent out to Ellen, but the presence of the Turkish woman
had put paid to that.
Corrine’s finger hovered over the telephone
keypad.
“I won’t
say it again. I want to see you erect.”
It was
as if he was hearing a totally different woman. In the long years of their
professional relationship Corrine had always been a model of propriety and that
was what he admired about her. Her mind was always focused on the job in hand.
Whenever idle chat, or even casual flirting,
threatened to take a meeting off track, it was always Corrine who moved quickly
to focus minds and bring things back to the agenda. Just to hear her use the
word “erect’ struck a horrible discord.
“This
has gone far enough. You’ve had your fun and Ellen has proved her point. I’m
leaving.”
“As you wish.”
Corrine
punched out a series of numbers on the keypad.
“Chief
Inspector Cavendish please, it’s Corrine Ducksworth … thanks, I’ll hold.”
“Look,
there’s no need for that!”
Corrine
pressed the mute button.
“It’s
your choice. Let me see that erection.”
“For
God’s sake, you know that’s not what Ellen intended!”
“I think
that she was very specific. You were told to come here and do what you were
told and not speak out of turn.”
“She
just wanted to embarrass me a little! You know her philosophy “make the
punishment fit the crime”. When it comes down to it I’m still a married man!”
Corrine’s
mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles.
“But for
how long?...Thanks, I’ll carry on holding.”
For a
few seconds he was overcome by shock. He had dug himself into a deep hole but
he had never entertained the possibility that his marriage might ultimately be
in jeopardy.
“If I do
as you ask my marriage will be bloody over.”
“Have
you thought that it might be over if you don’t do as I tell you?”
He could
see that her smile had disappeared and that she had spoken in all seriousness.
For the first time he began to consider just how strong the bond between his
wife and his banker had become. He had introduced them a little over two years
previously and notwithstanding the age gap they had gelled from the outset but
now there was a suggestion that it had developed into one of those candid
feminine relationships that seemed to work to the exclusion of men and even, it
seemed, husbands.
“I’ll
make it easy for you. Either do as you’re told or I’ll
tell my good friend the Chief Inspector all that I know.”
“If you
do that, Ellen will be implicated.”
For the
first time since he entered the room he felt that the balance of power had
shifted slightly in his favour but Corrine replied
coldly.
“So be
it. You seem to forget what I’ve got to lose.”
He felt
perspiration prickling at the nape of his neck. Was she serious? Was she
prepared to sacrifice Ellen as well as him in order to protect herself?
“Ah,
Good morning Chief Inspector
…”
“I’ll do
it!”
“Look,
I’m sorry, Chief Inspector, something’s just come up - can I get back to you?
Thanks!”
His
heart thumped in his chest even as he blurted the words out but he could not
take the chance. He had already done enough damage and he dare not run the risk
that Ellen would be made to pay the price.
Now that the decision was
made he steeled himself to get it over with. He took
hold of his flaccid manhood and tried to stroke it into life but it refused to
be roused.
“I hope you are not going to disappoint us.”
He found himself with conflicting emotions. On the
one hand his inability to achieve an erection suggested that he found the two
women unexciting in a sexual context and so, by implication, he remained loyal
to Ellen but there was also a more primal instinct at work: with every useless
stroke he found it more and more embarrassing that he could not prove his
manhood.
“Well he’s going to be no use to us like that.
Perhaps we ought to start exploring other possibilities.”
The Turkish woman’s words, with their hint of
sarcasm, only served to rub salt into the wound.
“Come
here and kneel in front of me.”
Corrine spoke perfunctorily and it rankled not least
because, until very recently, they had observed the usual protocols of a banker
client relationship and, notwithstanding their friendship, Corrine had always
shown due deference where necessary. He put his hands by his side and did as he
was asked but he knelt with his back ramrod straight. In this way his eyes were
level with hers and he tried to impart some measure of dignity. He looked into
her steely blue gray eyes but she met his stare unflinchingly. He prided
himself on his ability to stare people down but Corrine had played the same
game over many years and over many different negotiating tables and he was the
first to twitch. She took this as her signal and, with the slightest of smiles, she slowly rose to her feet. He now found himself just
inches from her skirt but he could not back away and show yet another sign of
weakness.
He knelt, frozen, with the blood pounding at his
temples as, with calm deliberation, she unfastened the
button at the side of her skirt and began to unwind it from her hips. He wanted
to look across to see how the Turkish woman was reacting to this aberrant behaviour, forgetting for a moment that his own
nakedness had already taken the situation beyond the rational norms, but he
could not avert his eyes. Corrine allowed
her skirt to drop to the floor and he was shocked to see that, not only was she
wearing stockings and suspenders, but also a very expensive pair of pale blue
silk Perla panties. It was as though he were seeing
two women at once. Above the waist Corrine still wore her dark blue business
jacket over a plain, crisp, white blouse, the model of the efficient
businesswoman, whilst below, her revealed shapely legs, of which many a younger
woman would be envious, sent out an altogether different message.
In the years that he had known her he had, of course,
had passing thoughts about getting her into bed but, good looking as she was,
he had her marked down as a cold fish and could not imagine the sex being very
exciting. In just the last few seconds, he had been given cause to review and
perhaps even rue his decision. There was something about the way she now stood
with one leg slightly at an angle to the other; her pose had a knowing
arrogance about it and she exuded a different sort of confidence which, when he
came to examine it, he found disturbing.
After a moment’s pause she began to unfasten the
suspender clips from her dark stockings but he was only aware of the sure
movements of her immaculately manicured fingers at the periphery of his vision.
His eyes were fixed on the crotch of her panties and, more particularly, a tiny
dark spot which, having suddenly appeared, grew even
as he watched. She slipped her hands up under her blouse and then down over her
hips inside her panties, stretching them momentarily over her mound. She
allowed him a couple of seconds to take in the details of her sex, highlighted
by the tight silk, then slowly slipped them down her legs.
Her pubis was covered by a closely trimmed frizz of
auburn hair shot through with gray and, even as he stared, she rasped a single
fingernail down through the distinct, moisture darkened, centre line.
“Let’s see if you can do something useful with that
tongue of yours for a change.”