As a private detective Brianna Clarke occasionally bent the rules to get the job done.
Her current client, the Alliance Bank, was worried that Mason Laroche might be money laundering through his import-export business. She'd done her homework on Mason and his business. Now she was ready for a meeting.
"I'm Mr. Laroche's 11:30 appointment," she said to the thirty-something receptionist, who called him on the intercom and then said, "He'll see you."
A buzzer sounded and the door into his office sprang ajar. With her shoulder Brianna opened it the rest of the way.
Laroche, sitting in his executive chair behind his mahogany desk, looked up from his computer. He was 48, balding, and ten kilos overweight.
"I'm your birthday present," Brianna said. "From your friends at the Hellfire Club."
He smiled broadly assessing her.
The stunningly beautiful twenty-nine-year-old brunette wore a tight black leather miniskirt matched with a sheer pale blue blouse. A heart-shaped pendant on a silver chain hung in her braless cleavage. Her undone beige trench coat rested on her shoulders. Her arms were not in the sleeves.
"They tell me you're into bondage," she said shaking her shoulders. The trench coat fell to the floor. She pirouetted on her stilettos. Her wrists were handcuffed behind her back.
"Where's the key," he asked.
"In my coat pocket."
He rose from his chair, strolled over, picked up her coat, and tossed it into the guest chair by the desk.
"Shall we play chase?" she said. "Catch me, you can have me."
"No time. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes."
"If that's the case then what can we do?"
"Those pouty lips of yours are meant to suck cock," he said lowering his pants and underwear.
Long ago she'd learnt never to break character when roleplaying. Currently she was his sexual present, so he'd have to give him a blowjob.
She got onto her knees facing his flaccid dick. She licked his balls. His tiny shaft became more erect with each lick. She sucked one ball and then the other. His cock was now firm and erect, albeit quite short.
She licked the underside of his dick as though it was a miniature ice cream cone. Up and then down. Taking her time. She was in no rush.
He moaned in satisfaction.
She kissed the top of his dick and then took it in her mouth tounging the bottom of his cock as it slid along. Even fully erect it wasn't long enough to enter her throat.
She removed her mouth from his penis and before she could lick his balls again, he said, "Let's pay rough."
With both hands, he quickly yanked her head into his groin pushing his cock into her. She gasped as his entire shaft invaded her mouth.
"Look at me," he demanded as he pumped with his hips.
What had been a tender blowjob by her morphed into a vicious face fuck by him.
She needed to breathe but he held her head tight against his body. Tears formed in her eyes. He smiled at her.
He was unrelenting. Thrusting. Pounding. Shoving. Ramming.
Finally, he came.
"Swallow it all," he said. "I don't want any stains on the carpet."
It was a pitifully tiny load that went down in one gulp.
He removed his dick from her mouth and then slapped her face.
"You're a good cocksucker."
Was there a complement hidden in the assault?
After he pulled up his underwear and trousers, he retrieved the key from her trench coat pocket.
"Sit on the sofa," he said.
It was a modern luxurious three-seater couch.
He undid the handcuff on her left wrist and then secured it to the sofa's metal armrest.
"I'm off to my meeting," he said. "When I come back, we'll continue the fun."
He tossed the key onto the desk and left the office.
Slowly, she counted to one hundred.
She knew about his 11:45 meeting, his membership in the Hellfire Club, that he liked to be rough with women, that today was his birthday, and that the financial information the bank wanted was in the computer on his desk. She expected that if she arrived in handcuffs, he'd restrain her in his office so that he could ravage her after his meeting.
Fat chance.
She turned the lever. The magician's handcuff on her wrist sprang open.
Silently, she moved to the desk.
Just as she anticipated, he hadn't logged out.
She pulled apart the heart-shaped pendant that hung from the chain around her neck. One half of the pendant was a USB key that she inserted into the computer. She went to the main menu, scrolled to the appropriate site, and hit the enter key. His financial files began to be copied onto the jump drive.
The monitor said it would take four minutes.
After that she'd be out the door before he returned.
She had no qualms about conning Mason, pretending to be his birthday sex toy when all she wanted was to download his computer files. She acknowledged that she was an unscrupulous carnal manipulator who used sex to get what she wanted. So far this year, she'd fucked twins to acquire the access code to a website. Screwed a judge for a favourable court ruling for a client. Became a sex slave to gather DNA for a paternity suit.
Fornication was simply a means of achieving her objective. Rough sex was an occupational hazard.
Suddenly, there was a sound outside the office door.
She raced back to the sofa, sat down, and reattached the handcuff to her wrist.
The door opened. A good-looking well-built man in his early thirties entered the office and then looked her way.
"Oh. Hi. I'm Samuel."
OMG. I can't let him see that I'm downloading Mason's financial information. How can I keep his back to the computer screen and the USB key?
She knew what to do.
"Come over her big boy." She lifted her handcuffed left wrist. "I can't come to you."
He stood in front of her, reached down and fondled her firm breasts.
"Nice tits."
"Thanks."
