Charles was far from happy with the situation. Should he just take off and start a new life, outside the area, where no one could catch him? He quickly realised that was not on the cards, as this was the only life he had right now. After all, what else would he do? Charles was pleased he had kept his nerve and stayed. For on her return Sandra announced they were going on holiday.
"Just the two of us, we can stay on our yacht in the South of France."
"I haven't got a passport!" insisted Charles with a start.
"I knew," laughed Sandra, "that you would think of yourself first. I like you, Charlie, we are so alike. Don't worry I'll have my lawyers take care of everything. But while you are there you might have to do a little job for me. You see, I've got these girl-friends who need sexual servicing, whilst they relax in the sun."
Charles had never been abroad. The number of times he had ever visited the nearby cities of Leicester and Peterborough he could count on both hands. Of course he was not going for nothing, and Sandra would extract a price from him, but the thought of having to service her rich friends did not seem so bad.
The heat hit Charles as he stepped from the plane and looked around the little airport. Sandra had chartered a private Lear jet to bring them all down to the South of France, and it looked like being one long party.
Sandra had told him that he was to provide some fun for her two new friends. They were from London and used to the good life, which was where they had met. As the only thing they seemed to have in common, was a love of expensive clothes and young men as sex slaves. Which was where Charles came in.
"Is this him?" asked a middle-aged woman walking up to them as they walked from the plane. Her name was Margaret, the wife of a leading city of London Councillor, and someone used to getting just what she wanted.
"Yes, what you think? Reckon you can get any fun out of him, over the next few days Margaret?" Sandra smiled behind her designer sunglasses and offered the other woman the goods.
"I'll say. What have you been feeding him on Sandra, raw meat? Just look at those muscles. Has he got a big cock?" she inquired.
"Get him in the Limo and find out." Sandra walked to the car and opened the door.
"You can have him after me," said the other woman. She was called Betty and was the wife of a millionaire, Sandra was in partnership within London. What they did for a living, did not stand up to close scrutiny, but Betty was hell-bent on spending the money.
Together they all sat in the back of the big stretch Lincoln continental. Sandra went through the formalities of introducing her two friends, but Charles thought they were clearly to disguise their true identities. The Two women sat either side of the boy whilst Sandra sat opposite.
Straight away they took turns feeling his crotch to get his cock hard, and Charles obliged by taking turns to kiss the women with deep-throated mouthfuls of passion.
He felt nothing for the event and even wanted to getaway. But Sandra had ordered him here, and this was a small price to pay for a foreign trip. The champagne flowed, and Charles even poured some down one cleavage to lick it out. They loved that.
He took his time feeling his hands up their skirts and rubbing his fingers against their pussies. Finally, Betty; the oldest of the friends pulled down her knickers and reached for his cock. It was fully erect now, so with one bound, she was astride him, sliding down his shaft with a grunt of pleasure. Here she rode up and down as the car drove slowly on. Through the parched hot landscape and down to the dreamy coastal resort, where, glistening in the sunlight, lay the yacht.
Up till now, Sandra had been content to simply watch, as if she was part of the crew, like the driver sitting passively in the front. As the other two women showed they were really getting into the action, she too pulled up her short skirt to masturbate herself before them.
They made Charles lay on the back seat to make the most of the ample room in the Limo. Whilst one rode his cock astride him, the other sat her wet pussy down on his face. So Charles obliged her by pushing his tongue up as far as it would go, into the soft wet sex.
When the car arrived at the other end, the boy was almost exhausted, but the women were satisfied for now. Sandra was pleased with him. He had done exactly what she had asked of him, and the holiday looked like it was going well.
"Your friends are wearing me out," said Charles as he drank a glass of champagne that night on the yacht.
"Remember you are here to do a job of work. So let them ride you until they come round to my way of thinking." Sandra held out her glass for more champagne, a mysterious smile crossing her face.
"What exactly is that?" asked Charles, looking out to sea.
"Revenge Charlie, what else is it about."
"What possible revenge could you want to take out on them?"
"They cost me and my family dearly. So now I want to take some money from them, just to even the score."
"Haven't you got enough now?"
"There's never enough."
"But why try and get it?"
"Because it's gettable."
"I don't understand you. Plenty of money and plenty of sex, what else is there to achieve?"
"Where I came from it would never be enough. Maybe I can't go back there, I've changed so much. Perhaps its too late." Sandra let her mind drift off, and for the first time, genuine fear crossed her face. Something Charles had never seen in her before.
"So where did you live this wicked past, you won't talk about?" He sat down beside her to look deep into her eyes.
"I can't tell you it all. Maybe some of it. Terry; my husband, talks about that part often enough."
"I know you both made your money in London, with property. So what's so dark and mysterious about that?"
"Oh, we aren't mixed up with the Mafia or anything like that. But there are people we don't want to meet."
"So where do you really come from?" asked Charles.
"From the same village as you, originally."
"No! But no one has ever heard of you, how can that be?"
"Luckily nobody recognises me, Charlie," she laughed.
"But even the old people, don't know you. There's something strange there."
"Oh, it's stranger than that. Maybe I'll tell you. Or maybe you'll find out for yourself. After all, it's about time you grew up."
"I like to think of myself as fairly grown up now," replied the boy.
"Dream on. Just being able to stick that big weapon inside a woman, doesn't make you a man. You know nothing of the real world. Take this boat. You're like a little boy lost."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Take a leap of faith, and help me get some money out of these old bags." Sandra looked sternly at him now.
"You aren't joking are you?"
"No. Do you want to be a man or not?!
"But how exactly do you intend getting this money? Legal or not?"
"I'll say it again. Do you want to be a man or not?"
"Of course I do! But what about getting caught?"
"That's the fun part. Being scared," laughed Sandra pouring another glass of champagne.
"Ok, so what do we have to do?"
"Simple. They have lots of money, and we have to convince them to part with it.
Sandra now pulled Charles onto the sofa. It was to the stern of the boat and surrounded by a huge picture window. So set against the backdrop of the Mediterranean Ocean, they had sex.
She unzipped his new designer jeans and peeled them down his legs. Then, pulling down his boxer shorts, she took his cock in her mouth and began to get it hard.
"What if they don't like it?" Charles tried to put this worry to the back of his mind, as his cock became fuller and the woman sucked longer and harder on it.
Sandra let the fleshy organ fall from her mouth. "They won't know, and if you can keep your mouth shut, they'll never know. We are going to invest it for them, and believe you me, this will return a massive profit." with that, she went back to sucking him off.
"What if something goes wrong, and we get in trouble? This won't look good in court?" But his own words drifted away as Charles went into ecstasy and shot into her mouth. Long and hot with her tongue going round and round.
"Salty but ok," said Sandra as she fell back and found her champagne glass.
That night Charles could not sleep. He gazed out to sea and wondered where he was going. How could he help steal money from those two innocent women? What if he got caught? Somehow he could not see Sandra standing up for him if he faced a prison sentence. What was he to do?
Charles was a long way from home, and clearly out of his depth. From now on things would get dangerous. It was alright shagging these women, but they would show him the same casual loyalty they enjoyed during sex, and once he let it drop out, they no longer needed him.
The boy realised he had to look out for himself. Maybe he could get some of this wealth for himself? But how?
On this big boat, he was surrounded by wealth. There were thousands of pounds worth, just lying on the tables, but just stealing things and running like hell, was not the answer. Sandra would find him too easily, and the punishment would be very harsh. No, he had to be more clever than that. Somehow he had to provide himself with an escape route. Another identity, that could help hide him whilst on the run.
There had to be no loopholes, as any trace would give him away. The only saving grace, to his mind, was that he might be able to escape in the chaos. The reason why Charles thought that way, was that he had a terrible sense of foreboding.
What the Drapers were doing, was wrong. There was something not true in the way they lived their lives, and the terrible truth was about to come out. The village seemed a long way away right now, but the truth could visit even here. Back in England, they could be seen for what they really were, and that flash was about to explode in the pan.
What worried Charles was, could he jump first?
The holiday was judged a great success, and Sandra was delighted with the way Charles had engaged her two friends with sexual attention.
