Petra's Erotic Photo Gallery

Petra Stanwick feels trapped by Gerard and Mona Rodman, clients who recognized that she is the naked woman in the erotic art prints she sells. Now she has to visit their mansion every Saturday evening to satisfy their lust for her.

Their chauffer, Darren, covets Petra and she has come to like his ways. After recent sex, he revealed that his employer has been systematically bilking investors, like her friend Professor William Edwards. Has Darren found the key to Petra's freedom from the evil couple?

It all came together on a Saturday evening that started like others before, but ended so very differently.

Gerard and Mona Rodman's driver had picked up the gallery owner in front of her shop after suppertime. Beneath her long coat, she was decked out in the slutwear which Mona had Darren deliver earlier in the week.

Tonight, it was sheer black babydolls, the cropped top held in place by one little tie, the bottoms nothing more than a tiny g-string with a chain of little pearls pressing against her clitoris with every step she took. Stimulating to say the least!

"Evenin' Love. What y' be wearin' 'neath that long coat?"

"Wouldn't you like to know! If you turn up the heat in here, I might show you," Petra teased.

"Right 'way, Miss Venus!"

Before long the limo was very warm, almost hot. From her back seat perch, his passenger could see beads of sweat forming along the edge of Darren's cap and trickling down his brawny neck. She fumbled with the belt on her beige trench coat and grabbed each side of the front, pulling them wide apart.

"This is what Mona sent for me to wear tonight. Like it?" she grinned as the driver's eyes went to the rearview mirror.

"Wowww! Fuck thas hot! I can't drive starin' back.... I need a better look!"

Then Darren turned the limo sharply onto a sideroad before skidding to an abrupt stop.

"Open yer coat ag'in, Miss."

"I can do better than that, Darren," Petra purred, then spread her legs far apart with the trench coat dropped off her shoulders, down to her elbows. "How's this? Does Mona have good taste?"

The black material was so sheer that it did nothing to hide the beautiful naked body underneath. The tight g-string presented Darren with gauzy camel-toe pussy lips, split apart by the embedded pearls. To highlight her lovely tits and extended nipples, Petra tugged at the single tie, releasing naked mounds of female flesh for Darren's inspection.

"Uh-huh! An' I want t' taste them lips down there!"

"Maybe later. But for now, just take a good look before I put it all away. You know how nasty Gerard will be if we're late. This is his fuck night you know."

"Yeah, the bastard. Hate him. Want you for me-self..."

"I feel the same way. But he's not going to be around much longer. I promise you that much," Petra assured him, knowing that Professor Edwards planned to have his investments with Rodman audited.

"She's OK, but Boss is a cheater. Hope he goes to jail. They fix him good in there. Somebody's bum-boy, eh."

"He deserves it."

"Miss Venus. Remember this. Don't drink nothin' tonight. Nothin', y' hear. Y'll be OK if y' don't."

Petra wondered what he meant and why he was so firm about it. After another short drive, the limo stopped at the iron gates at the end of the long, treed driveway. Darren's remote opened them and they drove on to the front entry of the Rodmans' mansion. He escorted her to the door and again cautioned her not to drink anything.

This was Petra's fourth trip to the Rodman's home and there was always a surprise for her. Last week it was one of Gerard's friends, apparently someone to whom he owed a favour. The stranger reeked of cigarettes and cheap after-shave, but at least he had a big dick. The two men banged her for hours, ending in a rousing DP, something Petra hadn't done since the Professor and Ronald double-teamed her two years before.

Tonight, Mona Rodman rushed her inside, hugging and kissing her sex toy. That's what Petra had become, dutifully arriving for whatever sexual favours the couple demanded of her. Everything was on the table. This was her debt in exchange for not divulging that she was the naked model in the erotic art which she sold.

"Are you wearing what I sent you, Venus?... Good. Take your coat off and let's have a look at you. Mmm... I want to go upstairs right away!"

Just then Gerard appeared from another room. His face was smeared with lipstick and he wore a big grin.

"Jeez! You look fine, Venus! Turn around and give me a better look," Gerard ordered.

She clenched her jaw and spun around once to shut him up.

"I'm cold, Mona. I need to put my coat back on."

Just then someone Petra knew came strolling out of the room which Gerard had just left. Desiree Wansit was still buttoning up her blouse. She was another cougar pickup from The Den, Lezlee Bellevue's friend and more recently a server at Petra's gallery opening party. Oh no! Was Petra expected to engage in sex with her tonight?

"You two know each other, don't you," Mona said. "Partied together a few years ago with Lezlee. We can all have fun tonight. Come into the parlour and I'll get us some drinks. We have some good wine tonight. That'll warm you up before we go upstairs, Venus."

"Who's Venus?" Desiree asked blankly.

"That's just what they call me. Mona, I'll pass on the wine. My stomach is upset today, and I'd probably be sick if I had anything like that."

"Something to smoke instead?" Gerard offered.

"Not after what happened last time. I blacked out and felt terrible for two days after. I don't want to smoke or drink at all tonight. I'm not feeling very well."

"Suit yourself. Come into the parlour and warm up. We have a fire on in there."

The room was very warm. The four of them made small-talk as Desiree and the Rodmans drank the decanter of wine. When their glasses were drained, Gerard poured another round.

"You can take your coat off now, Venus," Mona Rodman said.

"And give us a little fashion show," her husband added.

Petra knew she didn't have any choice, so she slipped off her trench coat and stood up on her black, spiked heels, waddling to the centre of the room. Silhouetted against the roaring fire, her sheer baby-dolls were virtually transparent, showing her fine body to the other three. She felt exposed- she was- but in a good way. Such exhibitionism came easy to her after all the naked posing she had done.

"Undo that little bow, Venus," Mona softly commanded, her voice a bit choked. Petra boldly complied and two lovely orbs popped into view, their tips already stimulated to erotic points.

"Oh... lovely!" Desiree complimented.

"Right off now," Gerard grinned. "Hand it to me, then take a sexy walk around the room for a while so we can take it all in.... That's it.... Fuuuck!"

Petra was completely naked now except for her big heels and the tiniest of g-strings. As she walked, she could feel the tight string of little pearls that made up the front of it moving side-to-side across her protruding clitoris. It felt so good that she deliberately swayed her hips as she walked to increase the friction. Her body responded with an oozing trickle of fluid seeping downward, readying her for sex.

"When are we going upstairs?" Desiree asked. "I've never been in your bedroom before."

"Another round, then we'll all be in the mood. Venus, come sit on the couch next to Mona," Gerard ordered. "She's been talking for the past week about all the delicious things she plans for you tonight."

Mrs. Rodman moved close beside her and began to softly run a palm along the model's bare legs. Gradually they crept higher until Mona was touching above the waist. Steadily her fingers advanced closer and closer to Petra's nipples, both projecting now from the light stimulation to bare skin.

Her erotic touch further moistened Petra's private pink and set her heart racing. Consciously she didn't really want this, but on another level her body craved it.

Petra could see that she was in for another wild night like the other times she'd been brought to the mansion. Virtually naked like this with these three people, it didn't seem that there was any way out of it. How much longer would she have to keep coming here on Saturday nights? Was there no way to break the invisible chains that held her so tightly?

Finally, Gerard rose from his seat. "We'll move this upstairs now. Time to fuck!"

****

Professor William Edwards was angry when he learned from Petra that Gerard Rodman had been fleecing him for years. Driver Darren Coxwell had overheard his boss bragging several times about how he systematically cheated his investors, either by skimming their earnings, or in the worst instances, never actually investing their money at all. Could that explain why he lived a life of luxury?

But what could the Professor do about it? He felt like a fool for trusting his broker with such a large portion of his income without anything but excuses to show for it. William beat himself up: how could he have been so clueless to think investments in Afghanistan and Africa would bear any fruit? He never could understand cryptocurrency, so why did he let Rodman convince him to spend heavily on it?

His anger burned for a few days before he told the story to his friend Ronald.

"No wonder I have so little to show for years as full Professor. He took so much!"

"Damn, William. I gave him some of my money too. Not the amount you did by the sound of it, but it never seemed to earn anything for me either. I stopped using him as my broker a few years back."

"So, is there anything I can do? I mean to get back some of what I lost?"

"Not sure Old Boy, but you could go to an accountant. Do you have any of your paperwork from Rodman?"

"Maybe, but I'm pretty shoddy about keeping files and records."

"Did you report any income or losses from this on your taxes?"

"Every year. My accounting guy did it all. A bit of income some years but big losses most of the time. I just chalked it up to bad investment choices."

"If you filed, there'll be paperwork. Check with your accountant. I've got piles of records from my dealings with Rodman. Now I'm curious to see just how much he took from me, the bastard."

"But then what?"

"If he spots any irregularities, you can go to the police. If it seems like there's a case to be made and further investigation is warranted, they'd probably seize his business records and go over them with a fine-tooth comb. Then he'd be in trouble."

"Hmm... a forensic audit might just land the bugger in jail. Maybe we'd get some money out of it? I read that the government squeezed more than half of the millions Ernie Paidoff netted in his pyramid scheme and returned it to investors."

"Could be. Get as much paperwork together as you can dig up, William, and I'll do the same. There could be something for us if this goes anywhere."

Neither of them wasted any time getting to work. They were angry about their losses but there might be a chance to get some of it back. The Professor was surprised by how much paperwork he found stacked in a cardboard box at the back of a closet.

He'd lived in the same apartment for more than ten years and papers at the bottom of the box went back that far. Namibian Oil Sands, Afghani Infrastructure, Albanian government bonds, Big Time Cyrpto, Professor Edwards had a long trail of dead-end investments. He arranged an appointment with his accountant, Morley Smart.

"What can I do for you Professor? It's not tax time yet. Hey, what's in the box?"

"Morley, I'm suspicious about my broker. Loss after loss, but he's living like a king."

"And you want me to sort through all those papers? That's a lot of work, you know. It'll be expensive."

"Ohhh.... Well, let's start with the years with the biggest losses. I've put each year in file folders. Here's last year. Net loss over thirty thousand. Could you check that one closely for me? We'll see if my suspicions have any merit."

"Sure, Professor. I'm not very busy right now. But it'll be at my regular hourly rate. It won't be cheap."

"Go ahead with last year. I'll keep the rest for another time if you find anything unusual in last year's file."

The accountant took the file folder and opened it while the Professor was still there. His brow furrowed as he flipped through the receipts from G. Rodman Investments- something seemed unusual to him.

"I did your taxes last year, but I'm rushed at tax time and just go through the numbers, nothing much more. But now I wonder about why you chose some of these investments. You lost nearly ten thousand on this African company alone. I've never heard of it before!"

"The broker recommended it a few years back. Loses money every year."

"I wonder if it even exists? If he's cheating you, like you suspect, falsifying investments would be a sure-fire way to put money directly into his own pocket."

"That's a good place to start then! I'll leave this file with you and if anything seems strange, I'll bring you some more."

" And I'll start tracing these companies. If I find anything, it should go to the cops."

"That's what my friend told me. You used to handle his taxes too, and he lost money with the same broker."

"Who is it? I'll probably remember."

"Ronald Dennison, another Professor at the college."

"OK. Tell him to bring me his records."

William Edwards walked with a lighter step as he left Smart's office. He'd tell Ronald to bring his paperwork in for the same sort of scrutiny. Then they'd find out for certain whether or not Petra's assertions about Gerard Rodman's cheating were true. Within a few days the Professor got a phone call from his accountant, a mix of bad news and good.

"I finished reviewing your investments from the last tax year. And I'm just starting on your friend Ronald's. There's a lot of work to do here."

"And?" William asked expectantly.

"You made some bad investments with your broker. Like that crypto company, Big Time. It was new when you bought bitcoin, but a few months later it was gone. That's a legitimate loss of five thousand. Bad advice, but nothing illegal that I can see."

"Ohhh... anything else."

"Yes. I tried hard to trace Namibian Oil Sands, but can't find any record. It's probably a fake, never listed on any exchange around the world. And there's another one I'm suspicious about too- Afghani Infrastructure. Again, no record. Between the two of them you lost nearly twenty thousand more last year."

"Shit... that much!" the Professor groaned.

"Didn't you wonder why you were doing so poorly on your investments?"

"I should have, but I had other things on my mind the past few years. I just went on with set monthly payments to Rodman and that was about it. He always had reasons and encouraged me to keep going. I was such a goddam fool!"

William wasn't about to tell his accountant that what he had on his mind were plans for more photography and sex on Friday nights with Petra Stanwick and her best girlfriend Emmeline Jones! He'd been spending most of his time thinking with his little head instead of his brain.

"Leave me another losing year file. If there's a pattern here, we'll bring in the police."

****

Something strange had happened about an hour after Gerard Rodman followed his three bedroom partners upstairs that Saturday night. Now all was quiet in the mansion as Petra and Darren slipped out the back door. He led the way to his small cottage by the garage.

The chauffer pushed against the outside door, and it swung in, revealing an intimate moonlit space. A small sitting area with a tiny kitchen along one side ended in an open doorway largely masked in shadow. That's where Darren was headed as he pulled Petra along in his wake.

"They won't bother us t'night. Stay wit' me. I'll treat y' right, babe."

"I trust you, Darren. Thanks for doing that."

"They be out 'til mornin', I'm sure."

"This is where you sleep? Hardly seems big enough for two..."

"I can use th' sofa if y' stay... but for now it be fine."

"First, can you put on a fire? It's cold in here and you already know how little I'm wearing under this coat."

"How can I forget? I seen it all!"

"Warm this place up and you can have it all."

The chauffer took his beautiful guest in his arms and kissed her mouth hard. Her perfume made his head swim and her thick, red lipstick tasted like cherries. He had this beautiful, warm creature all to himself now, and she was willing. The woman smiled, opening her lips to welcome his pressing tongue inside. He was already growing stiff in anticipation of what was to follow.

Minutes later they were both naked on his bed. His big hands roamed across her plush body while she concentrated on his hungry mouth with her snaking tongue. They were hot for this, private time that Petra had not anticipated tonight. Her stealthy fingers found him and stroked approvingly. "Mmmm... fat cock," she murmured in his ear. "Fuck me now."

Darren was ready and her glistening pussy told him she was too. He knelt between her raised knees to rub his rod temptingly along the length of her seeping slit. Petra moaned, "Don't tease me. I need it," before he began to ease it home. She tilted her groin upward and fingered her clitoris to reduce the pressure as Darren edged down into her narrow confines.

"Been thinkin' 'bout this a long time, babe." he groaned, all the way in now.

"Sooo good! Give it to me," she whispered in the dark.

They hadn't gone much farther when they heard sounds coming from the front side of the mansion. At least two cars pulled up the driveway. Darren sprung out of bed to douse the fire and make sure there were no lights on in his cottage.

They noticed that master bedroom lights still shone upstairs in the mansion, but couldn't see the front of the big house from their vantage point. Darren opened a window to listen carefully. Petra's heart was pounding inside her chest. There was repeated heavy knocking on the front door of the mansion, accompanied by shouts of "Open up! Police! We know you're in there!"

The police! The Professor had told Petra that he was having his accountant examine the records of his investments with Gerard Rodman. Is this what was going on now? Had they come to investigate further?

Then they spotted a man skirting around the side of the place, apparently either searching for another entry or to cut off anyone escaping the house. By now no more smoke was coming from the cottage chimney, and the police didn't come in their direction.

With this going on, the couple never did get back into bed to finish what they'd started. Darren gave her some of his clothes to wear- much too big- in case they came to the cottage, and the two of them crouched by the window watching and listening. More pounding at the front door was followed by the shattering of glass.

"They broke a side panel t' get in," Darren whispered. "They in for a big surprise, eh," he grinned.

"They'll probably think somebody murdered them," Petra chuckled.

"Hope I din put too much in the wine. Don't want to kill nobody."

Then there came the sound of boots running up the oak staircase, heading for the lighted room. It sounded as if there were several cops thundering upstairs. They were shocked when they reached the lit bedroom and found three naked people sprawled around the room. Broken glass and spilled liquid covered one section of the hardwood floor and there was more on the thick carpet by the sofa.

Were they dead, or were they dead drunk? The police immediately checked for vital signs and found them alive but apparently unconscious. Had they drunk themselves into a complete stupor? It was a possibility, given the spilled burgundy liquid, the broken decanter, and the shattered wine glasses.

"Throw blankets over them and call for a couple of ambulances," ordered the sergeant in charge of the squad. "We should have no problem searching for business records now. Take any computers and storage devices you find too. The warrant authorizes us to seize any digital and print records that could be related to the investigation."