Legally Bound

"Good morning, Maynard, Goldblum and Associates."

"Good morning, may I speak with Lena Stewart, please."

"This is Lena Stewart, how may I help you?"

"Hi, Lena, this is Cindy, from Outer Fringe Salon, just calling to remind you of your appointment at one fifteen today."

Lena sat silently for a second; she didn't remember making an appointment, but that wasn't to say that her friend, Kim, who had recently purchased the salon with a portion of her divorce settlement, hadn't made the appointment for her. Now that she owned the place, she had the luxury of pampering her best friend.

"Hey, Cindy, I can't remember what I was coming in for, could you tell me what I had booked again?"

"Sure, let's see. OK, I'll be doing your manicure and pedicure, and Kim will be doing a cut and color. Is one fifteen still OK?"

"Certainly, Cindy. I'll see you then."

Lena wondered what Kim had up her sleeve. Since Kim's divorce, she had really bloomed into a full on freak, and both of them spent a lot of time hanging out with their cop buddy, Ken Sinclair. And, fucking his brains out as well.

Fridays at Maynard, Goldblum and Associates were a breeze, with the day ending at noon, and either Bert Maynard or Cy Goldblum rounding up the staff for scotch or lunch. Lena was treated like gold; she was the first face that clients would see when entering their office. Bert Maynard had made sure that the first face his clients would see was a stunning one, with a voice and personality to match. It had been like that since nineteen seventy, and in all those years, Lena was the most efficient, had the best personality, and a knack with clients. And by far, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever hired. She hated to bail out early on Fridays; it was a great place to work and she loved hearing Bert's wild stories about his college days, or Cy telling everyone about how his wife nearly murdered him after discovering yet another exotic motorcycle in the garage.

"Sorry you won't be joining us for lunch today, Lena," Maynard said as he rounded the corner from his office. "I was in for a haircut at your friend, Kim's, shop the other day, and she asked if it was OK to steal you away this afternoon. I grudgingly agreed, but don't make this a habit!"

It seemed she was the only one who didn't know about this "appointment", and she knew that Kim and Sinclair were up to something........

Sinclair had set the day up weeks before. Getting his partner to do a shift of city park bicycle duty on a Friday afternoon had been a piece of cake. Today, Sinclair had the asphalt gray Crown Vic Interceptor to himself. He drew a deep breath as he wound the big Ford out onto the freeway, thinking about Lena. He knew the night he met her that she was something beyond anything he'd ever experienced. She was beautiful, and the most talented, intuitive cocksucker, no, Fellatrix, he could imagine. But it was more than that, and probably more than she realized herself. Watching her and Kim together, the way she'd relentlessly drive her huge breasted friend to the point of convulsion when licking her pussy, the way she'd go wild when Kim took a riding crop to her breasts, there was something about it that made Sinclair want to see her at her limits...

Lena arrived at Kim's salon, and although the place was very busy, Kim came over to welcome her. Before Lena could even inquire as to the nature of this mystery appointment, Kim looked her in the eye and told her to follow Cindy to the back room, and do exactly as she was told. It took nothing more than the seriousness of Kim's tone to realize that this would not be a run of the mill Friday afternoon. As she followed Cindy to the back room, she could feel how slick she had become.

"Close the door behind you." Cindy turned and looked at Lena, and crossed her arms. Lena did as she was told, as Cindy was not the kind of woman to be tested. At just over six feet in height with raven black hair and eyes, she cut an imposing profile; a Cree girl with a warrior's body and will. She sized up Lena as she pulled up a chair and sat down on it with it's back facing Lena, her strong legs apart as she pondered her attire. Lena had picked up some cues from that "Mad Men" TV show, and had been putting an early sixties spin on her wardrobe, much to the appreciation of her bosses.

"Take your clothes off, blond girl."

Lena felt her skin turn to goose flesh at the command. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, watching Cindy's eyes follow her fingers as she did. Her heart was pounding, her fingers fumbling at every snap and clasp that she undid.

"Nice touch....." Cindy purred with a raised eyebrow as Lena's skirt hit the floor, leaving her standing in her nylons and garter, a full support bra that brought her breasts up high and proud, and four inch heels. "You can keep the nylons and garter, and the heels, for now, but loose the Jane Russell contraption."

Lena unclasped the bra and let it fall, glancing at her reflection in the mirror as she did. She loved looking at herself, loved the way her breasts hung full and heavy on her chest, the way she'd dreamed her body would look when she was a girl longing to be a woman. She could feel Cindy's eyes on her, feel her lust surrounding her. Lena was soaked, and throbbing. Cindy stood and sauntered toward her, taking Lena's hands into her own.

"OK, blond girl, let's get started on that manicure, shall we?"

Kim was a master at appearing to be really interested in what her clients were talking about because she WAS interested, but today, she had to fake it as best she could. She and Sinclair had mused about doing something like this with, and for Lena for months, since the three of them had driven out for a weekend in a Saskatchewan ghost town to visit Sinclair's friend and former partner on the force. It was the weekend that had changed the lives of all three of them.

Kim understood how deep Lena's love of the intense actually was, whereby Sinclair could only suspect, although correctly. Any time that Kim could spend alone with Lena in the years she was still married to her ex was precious, and though they rarely went past the point of kissing and fondling each other, their conversations were deep and frank. Kim and her ex were swinging lifestylers, had done plenty of the typical swinger stuff. Kim herself had some really twisted turn ons, but Lena never failed to shock and astonish Kim with the depravity of her fantasies. The thing that made Lena's fantasies so compelling, though, was her brutally innocent craving of the experience, even if it could never be realized. That was exactly what Sinclair saw as well. Today, Lena would taste that experience in a manner she would have been unlikely to come by on her own.

"So, do you still ride much?" Cindy asked Lena softly as she peeled the expensive nylons from the blond girl's legs. Lena was caught off guard by the question, and after a brief pause, realized it was one thing she wished she could do more of.

"Whenever I get to my parent's farm, how did you know?" Lena smiled at Cindy, her nakedness suddenly feeling comforting.

"You have legs like mine, strong, and just a little bit bow legged." Cindy pulled up her T-shirt and showed Lena a Ladies Barrel Racing Championship belt buckle from the Calgary Stampede. "That's OK, though, strong legs are a cowgirl's best friend, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah....", replied Lena wistfully, thinking about how hard she'd ridden Sinclair the night before. She could still feel how deep he'd been within her, how her pussy was still swollen, and the sensation of Cindy's strong hands massaging her calves was turning her into a soaking wet mess......

Sinclair watched as the unremarkable looking semi-trailer pulled out of the shipping gate of a crumbling old factory, followed by an equally average looking Dodge Caravan. Those vehicles were Sinclair's cue, the next step was his. A week from now, no one would ever even remember seeing any activity at all at the old building. That was as it was supposed to be. The best kept secrets were the ones that didn't have to be kept; they were content to appear boring and ordinary.

The colors Lena saw on her body seemed so strange. Her perpetual summer blond was now a deep chestnut brown, her usually understated nails now a brilliant red, the same shade as Kim was applying to her lips. Her eyes were darkly shadowed, intensifying her brilliant green irises. But she liked what she saw in the mirror; there was a woman she'd love to fuck, and caught herself before she ruined her fresh manicure by fingering her pussy.

Kim stood back and looked at her friend, knowing that she'd outdone herself. Lena looked like a different person. Kim was wildly turned on, and nervous, knowing what was in store for for her friend, but maintained a cool, detached demeanour. She opened a drawer and handed Lena a small stack of clothing and a pair of sandals with five inch heels.

"Put these on, Slut."

She pulled on the faded Levi's cutoffs , the crotch nothing more than the remnants of the center seam attached to the fly. She thought of the word that her friend just called her. Slut. It fit, just as snugly and transparently as the threadbare men's wifebeater that she slipped over her chest. She looked at herself in the full length mirror after strapping on the sandals. Her nipples protruded rock hard through the flimsy cotton, her aureoles more obvious than if she were naked. She could see pubic hair in the crotch of her shorts. Slut. Her back straightened at the thought of the word; she liked it, it felt good to hear herself whisper it. She looked at the Slut in the mirror and wanted to fuck her so badly. Kim handed her a small purse.

"There is cab fare and money for condoms in here. I'll take care of your clothes and car." Kim opened the rear door of the shop. There was a cab waiting for her in the alley. "He knows where to take you, Slut." Kim closed the door behind her friend, wishing it was her getting into that cab. She smiled to herself, knowing that Lena would most certainly return the favour.......

Lena stared out of the window of the cab as it made it's way through the city's old industrial section. The driver tried to make small talk with her and she could see the way he was leering at her in the mirror. She answered politely, distracted by the waxy, stifling smell of unwashed cock that permeated the cab. She thought of Kim, how she had a thing for that smell, how it sent her into pheromone induced overload. Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of an ancient, run down gas station on the old highway running out of town.

"Seventeen fifty," the cabbie said as he clicked off the meter. "Or......... we can work out a deal."

Lena pulled a twenty out of the little purse that Kim had given her and passed it to the grimy cabbie. As she got out of the cab, she saw where the rancid cock stench had come from; the driver had been jerking off the whole time she'd been in the car. She walked toward the station, ignoring the cabbie's inquiries as to whether she wanted her change.

The door creaked as she entered the old station. Every eye turned to her as she walked across the weathered wooden floor toward the cash register. Two Kid Rock wannabes started snickering when the dumpy woman behind the counter sniffed indignantly as Lena sauntered toward her.

"I'd like a box of condoms, please, and a pack of Doublemint as well."

"I'll just bet you would...." Lena heard the ugly female voice behind her, as another cackled in agreement. Lena could see their reflections in the grimy mirror behind the counter. Two bloated skanks with little more to offer the world than the Doritos dust under their dirty fingernails. She turned her attention to the woman behind the counter, and smiled sweetly at her as she passed Lena a twelve pack of Trojans and the pack of gum.

"Thirteen dollars," the woman stated flatly. Lena handed her the other twenty that was in her purse, telling her to keep the change. She made full eye contact with the two men, and their trashy companions, as she walked past them.

Not surprisingly, as she walked out the door into the searing afternoon heat, she heard the same ugly female voice mutter, "Slut". Lena smiled to herself, knowing full well that she would have been called that even if she would have been dressed as she was when she left for work that morning. She leaned against a post in a shady spot beside the old station. Anyone who saw her there would instantly assume she was a prostitute, waiting on the welders and mill workers who'd be getting off work soon.

Sinclair could see her, standing beside the station. Several cars pulled up, and then pulled away as she waved them off. He checked his watch; it was time. He pulled into the parking lot, stunned by how different she looked. He parked the Ford and slowly walked over to her. Lena stayed within her character, staring at him with mock contempt.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. How are you today?"

Lena lifted an eyebrow and answered, "Fine."

"We've had a complaint of someone using the premises for some......illegal activity. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

"Why, of course not, Officer," Lena stated in a flat deadpan. "Just, enjoying the day."

"Fair enough. You wouldn't mind showing me some identification then." Sinclair's stare put a chill down Lena's spine. She also realized that she was not carrying any I.D.

"Sorry, Officer. I guess I must have left my I.D. in my other purse." Lena shot Sinclair a cute look, wondering where this was headed. She found out.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, you have the right to remain silent........." Sinclair advised her of her rights as he pulled his cuffs from his belt, turned her around and cuffed her hands behind her back in one smooth, practiced motion. The yokels that had been in the gas station soaking up it's meagre air conditioning came out to gawk and giggle. Sinclair turned to them and asked them what the fuck they were looking at, causing them to scuttle back into the station and peer out from behind a display of Hawkins Cheezies through the grimy window. Sinclair went through Lena's empty pockets, letting his fingers slide across her dripping cunt. Her legs began to shudder. Sinclair stepped away from her, leaving her near orgasm, standing in the sun, her hands behind her back, and her now sweat soaked shirt all but transparent. He left her there as he returned to his cruiser, and made a call on his cell phone.

Slut. It was exactly who she was at that moment, and she was aroused to the point of near madness. She could see her reflection in the window of the cruiser, feel the eyes of everyone who was staring at her. Whatever Kim and Sinclair had cooked up was working, and she just wanted Sinclair to drive her out onto some dirt road and rape her, to use her and humiliate her. She would do anything he wanted her to, anything. She thought about the cab driver's filthy cock, wondered if she had been expected to suck it, to feed Kim's nasty fetish of hearing Lena tell her about her cock swallowing exploits. She was so turned on that it seemed the ground beneath her feet was shaking, until she looked up and realized that the shaking she felt through the soles of her fuck sandals was caused by the two motorcycles that had just pulled up to the pumps. When she saw who the riders were, the shock tore the breath from her lungs........

The rider closest to her got off of his machine and removed his helmet, revealing him as a dead ringer for Robert DeNiro's character as the Devil in that movie, Angel Heart. It was her boss, Cy Goldblum. And his newest Italian mistress, an obscenely expensive and beautiful Ducati Desmosedici. Glancing down at her toes, she grinned at the fact that they were exactly the same shade of red as her boss's motorcycle. The other rider was one of the firm's rising stars, Greg Blackburn. His Buell stood in stark contrast to Cy's bike; all business, brutal, matte black and carbon graphite, like some sort of weapon from an H.R. Giger painting. Cy finished filling his tank and checked his BlackBerry, while Greg pulled some cash from his pocket and headed inside to pay for the fuel, looking directly at Lena as he walked by her. She began shaking, terrified that he'd recognized her. She looked over at Sinclair, still on the phone, staring at her. She could feel the sweat running from her body, between her breasts, down her legs. She could smell herself, smell her aching cunt as she stood in this broiling heat with her hands cuffed behind her.

"You may need this." The voice from behind her made her nearly jump out of her skin, as a gloved hand held up a business card in front of her, then slipped it into the back pocket of her shorts. He stepped in front of her, his eyes having their way with her as he scanned every sweaty inch of her overheated body. He looked directly into her eyes, intrigued at the similarity this working girl had to the beautiful receptionist at the law firm he was soon to be a partner of.

"You look really familiar....", Blackburn said in a rather matter of fact way.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. For the right price, I'll be anyone you want." Lena's heart was pounding. She was no receptionist at the moment. Slut.

"No, just offering my services, as legal council, Ma'am. My card is in your pocket, if the need should arise........." Blackburn slipped his helmet on and glanced back at her as he fired up his machine. As the two bikes rumbled into the foothills toward the Continental Divide, Lena breathed a tiny sigh of relief. But she was now wound so tightly, she felt as if she would explode.....

"Trust me, you will be impressed, on both counts. I'll be there in ten minutes, East gate." Sinclair clicked his cell closed, still staring at Lena as she stood in the hot sun. The man he'd just talked to was his oldest friend, Dave Bennett. They went back as far as Junior High, and had been headed in a bad direction, stealing car parts for a local greaseball who had ratted them both out when he got nailed for Possession of Stolen Property. The nastiest motherfucker on the force at the time, Fritz Zollner, had questioned each one of them individually, for hours. Neither Sinclair or Bennett rolled over on the other, or the scumbag they'd been stealing for, even though Zollner had a reputation for taking uncooperative fuckups down to the river bottom and kicking the shit out of them. Zollner admired their loyalty, especially in light of the fact that so few kids their age had any balls. He had them both join the Cadet Corps, where they could focus their loyalty and energy. And, they both had to stay on the honor roll at school, or, get the shit kicked out of them. It was the best thing that could have happened to either of them; after graduating, Bennett enrolled at Royal Military College, Sinclair backpacked through southeast Asia for two years, then became a cop. They hadn't seen each other since Zollner's funeral a couple of years earlier, where Sinclair delivered his eulogy....

The air conditioning felt delicious on Lena's skin as Sinclair pulled away from the gas station. The small group of white trash had reappeared on the steps of the dilapidated building as Sinclair put Lena in the back seat of the Crown Vic, jeering as they pulled away. Sinclair said nothing to her, in spite of how hot she looked as a sweat soaked Slut. His prick was rock hard, but they would both have to wait for it. In a few minutes he'd deliver her to Bennett, and her evening would begin.....

The gate swung open on it's own as Sinclair's cruiser approached. He pulled around the back of the old factory, into a large shipping door and nearly a hundred yards into the facility. Bennett had contacted Sinclair about a month earlier and requested a favour or two, and Sinclair was happy to accommodate him. Bennett gave no details as to why he was in town, and Sinclair knew better than to ask.