Part 2 Ten Hard Cocks
James Bennett was not at all who I thought he might be. I expected someone capable of blackmail to be some seedy looking character with beady eyes and abnormally long fingers. Maybe someone with big ears, a pock marked face or a weird haircut.
He was none of that. James Bennett was probably one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. He was tall, athletic, ruggedly masculine. He looked very intelligent and was sharply dressed. If he had an English accent, I would have been convinced he was James Bond.
After our eyes adjusted to the presence of light, he stepped toward me and offered his hand. I responded in kind and we briefly held hands.
"So very nice to meet you, Kelly Grant" he said.
Awkward moment! What do you say to a man who just blackmailed you into giving him a blow job? I slapped his face as hard as I could. He didn't try to deflect the blow and he didn't even flinch. Instead, His eyes lit up and his mouth formed a slight grin.
"I deserved that" he said.
"Damn right you do" I told him. "Give me back my files and leave me alone please."
"I can't do that yet" he said. "I have a reservation at La Poule Rouge at 10:30 pm. If we hurry, we will be on time."
"You know, I really don't think I can sit across the table from a man who is blackmailing me and really enjoy a meal."
"OK, fine. You don't have to eat. But you do have to listen, and we are going" he said. "There is a new toothbrush and some tooth paste in the bath, and you'll need to fix your makeup. Your mascara looks ridiculous from all that crying."
I looked at him as if he was crazy.
"Hurry along" he said. I turned and did as he said. I had no choice but to obey him. One moment he was being charming and thoughtful, the next moment he was threatening me with madness and mayhem.
20 minutes later we stepped out of the hotel together. A chauffeured limousine was waiting to take us to the restaurant. This guy doesn't even drive his own car. Who the fuck can he be?
At the restaurant we were seated at a very nice table. James ordered a fancy 1968 vintage of red wine for me and a scotch "neat" for himself.
"I thought we might have a bit of conversation before we ordered, or would you prefer to order now?" he said.
The aroma of food emanating from the kitchen caused my stomach to growl like a tiger.
"Actually, I'm starved. Let's order."
James Bennett ordered prime rib for both of us.
"Mr. Bennett...?" he cut me off before I could finish my question.
"Call me James. There's no need for formality." he said. "And I will call you Kelly."
"James, exactly what will it take to make you stop blackmailing and threatening me?"
"One year of your life, exactly. I want you to work for us." he said.
"Work for you! I have a very good job. I can't give that up." I said.
"No need to. I shall arrange for you to be granted a leave of absence for the duration of your employment to us." James said.
"How can you do that?"
"I have many friends who have many more friends. Things can be arranged if one knows how." he said.
Once again, I asked myself, "Who the fuck is this guy." Did he really have the muscle to do the things he had threatened me with?
"I need someone who can act in the capacity of a courtesan of sorts. I will pay you an extremely large amount of money. You will be taken care of in every way and will be provided with a security detail."
"Courtesan of sorts? You mean a fucking hooker! Oh my God!" I was shocked by his offer. I couldn't believe what he was suggesting.
"My business sometimes requires that I provide my clients with certain distractions. Some require money in the form of kickbacks. Some require favors in the form of making certain arrangements, as in making people disappear, getting someone to promote someone, that sort of thing. Sometimes they simply require the company of a woman, not just any woman. The woman must be extremely attractive, highly educated, and very sensual, and possess a level of knowledge about the business at hand. Like a movie star, or a fashion model. You fit that description to a tee."
I had to admit, such a compliment from a man as handsome as James Bennett made me blush for a moment. But the moment didn't last very long, this man was about to blackmail me into being a whore.
"You want me to be your high-class hooker so you can make a profit off whatever kind of bullshit and probably illegal business you do, that is unacceptable!"
"Kelly, I know how preposterous this may seem to you, at the moment. All the other girls felt precisely the way you do, but eventually they all adjusted. Many of them even opted to stay on after the year was up. But that was entirely up to them." he told me.
"You mean there are others? Holy shit. You're a serial blackmailer. Look Mr. James Bennett, I am still a virgin. I do not intend to be deflowered by some sleazy business associate of yours."
I could see in his eye that the fact that I was a virgin stunned him a bit. Non the less, he recovered quickly.
"None of the girls are ever required to have sexual intercourse with any of our clients, unless they want to, of course. It does happen, but it's not a requirement. You may keep your precious virginity until you and you alone are ready to give it freely to the partner of your choice."
"So, just for the record, what are you expecting me to do, if I decide to agree, which I am not?" I asked.
You would be expected to accompany my clients to certain formal occasions. Sometimes it might be a dinner party, or a night club. An afternoon of tennis, the occasional trip to a foreign country..."
"That's it! Are you kidding? You're resorting to blackmail to get someone to do that for you?" How ridiculous was this?
"You didn't let me finish. You would also be required to make yourself available to the client's, if asked, in a sexual nature."
"But you just said I could remain a virgin. I knew you were lying." I spat the words at him.
"That's true, I did, and I meant it. You would however be required to make yourself available in other ways. The client may ask you to undress for him, to give him a hand job or a blow job. The client may wish to undress and receive a massage from you, for which you will be trained in the art by experts." he told her.
"That's disgusting. I won't do any of that. Go ahead. Post my files on every dirty porn website in the world and I won't do that. Fuck you, James Bennett."
"Will you trust me on one thing? Honestly, if it were only up to me, I would not force you into this. I like you, and I hate that this is happening to you. But it is not up to me. I report to a higher level of the organization. They will not take no for an answer. They will ruin you in ways you cannot imagine. They may even have you killed since you know what little I have already told you, and that isn't much at all. The organization is very serious."
I started to cry, softly. Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed into my napkin. I realized that for whatever reason, by some satanic twist of fate, I would be ushered into a life I did not want to live. Fate had chosen to derail every aspect of my life.
"What if I get raped by one of your clients? What if one of them won't just settle for a hand job or a blow job?" I was still sobbing.
"No one will harm you in any way. You will be provided with a detail of professional body guards. One click of a special pen, a button pressed on a special watch, a catch phrase word mentioned, and you will be extracted from any situation in which you are not supposed to be in. Your safety will always be monitored."
My sobbing subsided. You can only cry so much until reality sets in.
"So, you're dead serious about them planting drugs on me, sending me to prison, maybe even having me murdered?"
"Deadly serious. As I said, if it were up to me alone, I would walk away, and you would be free to go. You are not like some of the others. Most of the beautiful women who are recruited are self-centered and egotistical because of their beauty. It's almost a pleasure to see them come down a peg or two."
"There's absolutely no way out, is there?" I asked.
I'm afraid not. It would be too dangerous to resist. I'm sorry"
I weighted my options. Comply with my blackmailer's demands or at worst, be murdered. What choice was there to make? I did not want to give blow jobs to strangers for the next twelve months, but I didn't want to die either. I had to comply and hope I made it out the other side.
"I have no choice. I will do it. There is no other way." I was resigned to my fate. I hated it. Maybe I could find another way later on, but for now I had to do what they demanded of me.
"There is more I should tell you," he began, "Most of the men you'll encounter won't exactly be good looking preppy boys. Some may even be a bit fat and old. Thy are all successful men who are good at what they do. Oddballs and unintelligent people rarely make it into the league you will be in."
"That's why I forced you to fellate me in the dark" he said.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"I needed to know that you could fellate and swallow any man. You had no idea what I looked like until later. I could have been covered in warts and looked like a gnome, but you did it anyway because you were afraid if you didn't do it. You didn't freak out. We need to know that you can handle the mission. Our clients are very important to us" he said.
There he goes again with the word "felate". Who the hell talked like that? No one ever talked like that.
"I see. Anything else I need to know before I begin the hooker phase of my life?"
"You will be provided with everything you will need. You will be given a credit card with an unlimited balance, within reason. With that you will purchase clothes, jewelry, anything you need to accomplish the goals. Of course, your expenses will be monitored. For example, you won't be able to purchase an estate in Great Briton, but you could purchase an expensive sports car, after all, a woman has to be able to get around. Most of the time you will be chauffeured."