Becky’s Repairs, Part 6
Blinding light streamed into the window through the gauzy fabric. A pair of nesting jackdaws just outside annoyingly announced the sun had indeed come up. Becky blearily rubbed her eyes, rudely bumping the handcuffs against her cheek, making her flinch. She groaned and took a quick peek at her phone before fumbling around the nightstand to find the key, rubbing her wrists on the way to the bathroom. “Maybe they chickened out. Maybe one of them had second thoughts,” she thought as she brushed her teeth. Becky halted wide eyed, staring at her reflection. “Maybe they got caught! Maybe… Maybe something went wrong! No. No, Justin would have called… probably…” The notions gnawed at her despite her dismissals. Dressed in slacks and a sweater, Becky headed down to the lobby for coffee and a croissant. The landlady briskly handed her some cream, her husband nowhere to be seen. Becky sat in a corner, pretending to peruse the local paper and nibble the pastry while her curiosity slowly grew. Finally, she huffed and headed back to her room.
She flipped the tele on, “Le temps restera un peu frais ce matin, mais un front chaud arrivera cet après-midi. Les vents resteront calmes. À l'affiche d'Armand avec le sport!” Upon hearing of warmer weather for the day, Becky considered changing her clothes and going to the beach when…
Buzz!… Buzz!… “Oh, Hello Linda.”
“Becky! Becky, have you seen!?”
Her heart skipped a beat as a cautious grimace came upon her. She quite rightly knew to play along, “Seen what?”
Linda was so out of breath, one would have thought she’d run from London to Lorient. “It’s Reginald! Are you sitting down?”
“Y-Yes. What is it? Tell me!” Her grimace changed into a coy smile.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Becky, it’s all over the news! He’s been arrested!”
Her teeth flashed wide before she got ahold of herself, “Arrested? Whatever for!?”
“Well according to the news, he was found naked in his office! He was led out of the university in a police blanket! Oh, I know you’re divorcing, but I imagine this is the last thing you’d want to hear on top of it all!”
Linda couldn’t have been more wrong. “Oh! I knew he was a cheat but… Did they give any other details? Was he mullered or on drugs?” Becky’s voice kept up the charade where her face would have blown a winning poker hand.
“I’m sorry love. I don’t have any more than that. I flipped on the tele and when I saw it, I spit my latte all over the kitchen. The next thing I did was ring you. Do you want me to look into an early flight home?”
Becky gave a pause as if to think about it, “Well… Maybe that would be best. Oh! I’ll have to see if Linda knows anything more. The proceedings are only a few days after I was due back.”
“Ok love! I’ll call back with some options. Say, an hour?”
“Mm-K. I’ll start packing then. Thanks for calling.”
“Anything for you love!” Click.
As soon as the line was dead, Becky jumped with squeals with glee. “They did it! Oh! They pulled it off!” Minutes later her phone was alight with people near and far to her. Becky changed her notifications to curtail the constant barrage of looky-loos eager for a chinwag. She had to calm herself to pack and found that it took far too little time. She remembered to dispose of the items from the sex shop in a skip behind the hotel. She didn’t want to explain those to the customs officials. On her way back into her room, she suddenly received a call from an unblocked number. It was Jenny.
“So, how’s your vacay going?”
“Well, it was pleasant until I heard from Linda. Reginald’s been arrested!”
“Yes, I heard as well. This won’t impede our case, but it may bring some unwanted attention. Maybe some tabloids.”
Becky feigned a sigh, “Oh, I suppose it will. I’ll be coming back on the first flight Linda can arrange.”
“Send me the details, I’ll see you at the airport. How are the birds, from France? You haven’t been birdwatching, have you?”
Becky clammed up for a moment, “Um, no.”
“I love birds, but I wouldn’t ever try to do any kind of bird calls. People look at me whenever I do. Best to let them alone, in their nests.”
The message pained Becky but she understood. “Yes… I’ll see you soon.”
Becky arrived home the following day wearing large sunglasses and a kerchief over her hair, marching arm in arm with her lawyer, Jenny who was in a black pants suit, past a trio of beat reporters looking for material. One snapped a couple pics. Jenny waved a hand tersely exclaiming, “No questions! My client has nothing to tell you!” They got into Jenny’s car and sped away.
“Thank you for getting me! I hadn’t expected so much interest in my divorce.”
“Well, it’s not every day a naked professor is hauled out of campus. If you haven’t seen the footage, it’s quite the display. Our case will be argued in a few days, so I want you to get rest and keep to yourself. In fact, stay home from work.”
“I certainly will not!”
“But…”
“I will not be seen as the jilted lover, afraid of what people will say. Besides, I have some… things that need doing.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow but knew she wouldn’t convince her.
Pulling into their cul-de-sac, Becky noticed Justin’s truck at Wenda’s house. Likewise, Justin noticed her as well, pulling a large, newer rolling tool bag from his truck bed, rather a bit cautiously.
Wenda spent the morning with Justin, though unseen, as he made several house calls. Justin had arranged to pick her up, literally, at sunup. She stood naked by the door, wearing a blindfold, and a remote-controlled silicone egg-shaped vibe within her pussy when he came to the door. Handing him the remote, he guided her into the new tool bag, purchased exclusively for her use. She laid down on her side in the bag, lined with extra padding, drawing her knees up to her chest. Justin handcuffed her wrists behind her knees and shackled her ankles together as well. A short rope connected them, preventing fidgeting. He then lubed an anal hook with a one-inch ball at the tip and gently worked it into her bottom as she tried to relax, gasping with the effort. Finally seating it, he gave her rounded cheek a playful spank as she yelped sexual shock. He finished with another short rope tied to the ring on the hook and cinched it around her ponytail, pulling her head back as it became taught. Wenda was already moaning in forbidden ecstasy before being set in the truck bed. He randomly played around with the remote as he drove, driving her near elicit climax time and again. Wenda had to concentrate not to cum or exclaim her sexual thrill in the open. The next three hours drove her lust, being left covertly exposed in Justin’s care as he fixed a leaky faucet, installed a shower door, replaced some rotted deck boards, and gave a quote for a kitchen backsplash at various residences. Once back at her own home, Wenda was removed from the truck bed with care and received a proper fuck and full orgasm while still bound, after which Justin stayed with her for a few hours more…
Once in her own home, Becky unpacked and started laundry. A local TV news station droned in the background, a fact she ignored until the subject of Reginald eventually came up. She dropped the hamper and ran to the living room to see grainy footage of her wayward husband in a terrible state yelling something as he staggered down the steps of the college, hands cuffed in front and clutching a dingy grey blanket around his waist. The marks from the implements and restraints were just visible as reddened blotches on his exposed skin. Becky could only imagine what his arse looked like, for now. The pair of cops holding him on either side with rubber gloves tried to keep as much space between themselves and her as possible. Becky soaked it in, recalling her tasks for tomorrow. She rang her stylist for a cut and shampoo that evening. “Maybe I’ll add a little color,” she thought with a smile. Just before leaving the house for her appointment, she scribbled a note with a single instruction, time and location, leaving it on Justin’s windshield.
Becky went to her office and pretended to work for a few hours as coworkers filed by out of aberrant interest, fishing for information. She disappointed all of them. After all, she was across the channel, what did she know? Many gave hushed and exaggeratedly incorrect details about just what happened to Reginald. Some rumors said he and his fiancé were into a kinky scene that went too far. Others said he had a mistress on the side that wanted to teach him a lesson. A few even suggested he was a closet bisexual and sex fiend. At least they were half right. There was an air of mystery about the items removed from his office as one was large and rectangular, spotted rolling out the service entrance under a sheet. Getting him out of it took until midmorning as the police needed to find a bolt cutter, no keys were left behind. Some even suggested there were pictures out there somewhere, but no one dared admit to seeing them. One fact was quite clear however in that the morning cleaning crew had discovered him. The Chancellor and the university lawyer quarantined the lot of them, strong-arming them into signing nondisclosure agreements and giving them two weeks paid time off. The Chancellor then had Reginald suspended from teaching, giving lectures, or attending campus until further notice.
Reginald spent most of the day he was discovered at the precinct. Though he found it hard to tell a believable story about two black-eyed rubber-clad lesbians who had sex in front of him and then let himself be locked up and tortured. Least of all because he refused to sit due to the bruising. His details were disjointed as he wanted to minimize what went into the official record. His one call to Nadine was first met with concern but turned to suspicion under her questioning as to why he was arrested and more importantly why he was naked. Unable to tell her the truth, she crossly hung up, but undetermined as to what she would do.
The female detective sergeant wasn’t inclined to believe him either. Jaded with patrols of the redlight areas of London, she knew his type. Another conceited, out-of-shape chauvinist with an insatiable appetite, preying on shapely young girls. The detective theorized he had a fetish for S&M and hired a prostitute or two. And when he either wouldn’t pay or give up more cash, they stole his clothes, phone, and wallet and left him as is. This theory made its way first around the precinct and then to the public in the days following. The detective eventually turned him loose as there was little to charge him with. She wasn’t very inclined to spend too much time investigating either.
At lunchtime, Becky surreptitiously retreated to the carpark where Justin was parked alongside hers, well away from the building under a shady tree.
“Do you have it?”
“Yeah, it’s already set,” handing her a large canvas satchel with a bulky item in it. “How do you figure you’re going to get it into his office? It’s a crime scene ya know.”
“Let me worry about that.”
Becky was about to leave but noticed Justin dithering. “I… I think I’m planning to move soon.”
Becky raised an eyebrow, replying softly, “Move?”
“…After this is over. I got an offer, as a project manager near Adlington. Frankly, my work around here is winding down and I… I want… ” Becky softened as she watched Justin, knowing he was trying to soften the blow. She’d put him up to a lot, more than most men would dare to do.
“You want something else… You’re done with special projects also, aren’t you.”
He rubbed his neck as he sheepishly hung his head. “I already let my remaining clients know. I’m moving on, my life ya know. I think I did enough here. Listen… The last time at my flat…”
Becky stopped him with a hand on his chest. She gave a sympathetic smile, “I know Justin. I know.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before parting.
The patrolman assigned to stand guard outside Reginald’s office was the same age as many of the students. Becky, leaning on her father’s experience with rookies as he was a policeman himself, had devised a ploy to draw him away. She waited minutes before the period bell rang. “Well hello young man,” she pulled a charming smile and domineering appeal, tossing her red highlights over her shoulder. “Have you been posted here all day?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“I don’t suppose they gave you a relief man either.”
The young copper gave a surprised scoff, “No Ma’am they didn’t. How did you…?”
“My father was a retired detective. Thirty-one years.”
“Blimy!”
“Aye, he’s passed though. Heart attack.”
“Oh. I’m sorry Ma’am.”
“Thank you. He ingrained in me that public service is noble work. Here, take this coffee. You must be awfully tired.”
The polite young man looked around, unsure. “Well, I really shouldn’t…”
“Oh please, for my father’s sake. He always encouraged the fine young men to do their duty with a smile.” She gave a flirty look, “And if this brings a smile to your day, then I did right by him.”
The young man looked around once more, “Well… For your father’s sake. Cheers!”, giving a humble obliging smile.
He began drinking it immediately. There was plenty of cream and sugar, as well as a simple laxative. “Well, I do hope you get some relief soon.” She made for the nearest bathrooms a short distance down the hall and around the corner, jimmying open the custodial closet with a credit card. She quickly placed ‘Out of Service’ placards at the entrances of both washrooms and waited, just inside the ladies room.
The bell rang and a surge of students streamed into the halls. Soon she heard hard footsteps slapping the tile. “Outta my way! Outta my way man! I need to get… Bloody Hell!” He grabbed a sophomore passing by, “Where’s the nearest bathroom! Quick!” Becky felt guilty as she heard the patrolman sprinting away.
Students were exiting the area at a good clip as Becky used her key to get into Reginald’s office. She took a quick survey, noting not too much out of place as she stood on a counter nearest the door and pulled down the large, unremarkable wall clock. Placing it at her feet she pulled an identical one out of her bag and hung it, making sure the second hand was moving. Getting down she shoved the one on the countertop into the bag, went out the door, and locked it, exiting the building.
“You’re sure I can’t watch you in court today? I’ll just be sitting in the gallery behind you.”
Smack! “That’s for asking, again. And besides, I told you not to take today off!” A red outline of her handprint, left on his butt.
“Ow! Yes, mistress.” Lloyd was again naked and locked in the cock pillory in their private dungeon, ankles cuffed to the post and wrists shackled in front with the heavy one-foot chain, a steel collar around his neck.
“You’re lucky I’m letting you stream it.” Jenny was made up for court in a smart grey checked blazer and matching maxi skirt with black heels and blouse to match her frames. “I really don’t have time for this, so you’re going to pay for it whether I win or lose.” She fiddled with Lloyd’s phone settings so he could watch before placing it on the padded restraint table in front of him, just out of reach.
Lloyd replied in a small voice, “Thank you mistress,” a slight pout as he really wanted to be with her today.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet!” She retrieved his cock cage, a short, polished metal unit with an internal cam lock. Jenny lubed it before squatting down, giving her husband a look down her cleavage with her lips parted as she set to securing it around Lloyd’s already hardening cock. “Hey!” Slap! SLAP! She gave his balls hard enough strikes to shrink his member sufficiently, securing it around him. “Get your mind off shagging or I’ll find something to lock in your bum!”
Lloyd nearly doubled over, “Oh! Oww! Y-Yes Mistress! Hmnn…” He bit his lower lip as the pain in his balls lasted a good while longer.
Putting the key on a necklace in plain view around her neck, Jenny turned out the lights except the one directly over him and trotted halfway up the steps, taking a last look at her love as he snuck a sidelong glance at her as well. She flashed a smile before rushing up the steps, bolting the door, and leaving the house.
The final divorce proceedings started with more interest than usual for a litigation such as this. The judge was a trim older man who entered wearing traditional black robes and a white barrister wig which he promptly removed upon sitting, revealing cropped thinning hair. Becky noted the same three reporters from the airport in the gallery along with two others. She dressed demurely, almost schoolmarm-like with her hair up, large wire framed glasses, and a plain dark brown full-length long sleeve dress and saddle shoes. Jenny tried not to snigger as it was nothing Becky would be caught dead in outside of today.
Reginald sat opposite with his counsel and Nadine behind him in the gallery. They tried not to look at each other, though Becky broke the deadlock after the court had been sworn in. She never really considered Nadine before; Becky thought she looked charming as any young girl of wealth and privilege would. Nadine’s hair was down and she wore a form-fitting black and white designer dress with a white long-sleeved collared shirt and purple cravat. A short-striped jacket hung off her shoulders. Reginald didn’t look around; his face was hard and sweaty. Clearly he hadn’t slept, as his counsel scribbled notes, taking a moment to assure his client.
Court proceeded very dully for over an hour into late morning, with statements being read, procedures, arguments and counter arguments. Becky noticed Jenny looking to the side of the Judge and into the court camera, giving off small flirty gestures like unbuttoning and opening her blazer with hands on hips, tossing her hair, licking her lips and crossing and uncrossing her legs. More than once, she played with the key around her neck. She wasn’t sure if it was for the Judge’s benefit, though he seemed not to notice as he was all business with his face buried in documents. Finally, Reginald’s forensic accountant was called. He was the same age as Becky, thin and short with thick glasses and a large bald spot with an unconvincing combover. As he began speaking about Reginald’s and Becky’s financial arrangements, a mob of reporters burst into the room. A loud murmur disrupted everything as the Judge banged his gavel with a scowl. Nearly a dozen, some with cameras, flooded the open seats, pointing and nudging as cameras snapped at Reginald, Nadine, and Becky.
“What’s the meaning of this?! What’s going on?” The court went into an awkward pause as everyone peered at each other. Giving up on getting an immediate answer, “You there! Explain yourself!”
A female reporter who happened to be just to the left of Nadine nervously stood with notepad in hand, “Sir, the gentleman in front of me… He, uh, there’s pictures of him.”
“Yes, yes, I’ve seen him in the news, and it has no bearing on these proceedings. What of it?”
Jenny shot Becky a split-second look. Becky merely peered at the female reporter as if curious.
“No, not that your honor. We’ve received pictures of him with girls at the university, having… relations in his office, your honor.”
Straining around in his seat, Reginald went white as a sheet.
“What do you mean? What girls?” Nadine asked.
From under her arm the reporter held out the cover of a tabloid that had been published that morning. Nadine snatched it, her eyes went large as her mouth dropped. There on the cover, a panel of eight pictures showed an assortment of students with blurred faces in various torrid sexual positions with Reginald clearly in view. The headline read, ‘Naked Professor Pokes Pupils!’ Camera shutters peeled like rifle shots as Nadine stood, still wearing her shocked visage with tears at the corners of her eyes. She gave an incredulous look of heartbreak and revulsion to Reginald, throwing the paper at him in a flurry before bolting for the door, sobbing as she pushed past journalists. Four or five reporters in the back chased after her shouting indelicate questions. Reginald partially stood, “Wait! It’s not… Nadine! Nadine please!”
BANG! BANG! BANG! “Sit down! Order in the court!” The Judge was furious at the ruckus. “We’ll take a thirty-minute recess! Officers of the court will see me in my…”
“YOU! It was YOU! YOU BITCH!” Reginald lunged towards Becky, his bulk pushing his chair and the table away from him! Becky screamed, heightening the drama in front of the reporters. The clock she removed from Reginald’s office contained an advanced hunting trail camera, peering out of a small but inconspicuous hole at the bottom, provided by Justin four years earlier. It allowed her to download pictures from outside his office via Bluetooth. Though, the final video file featuring her birds was far too big for her mobile phone to handle, thus the necessity of physically removing it for what was to come shortly.
The Judge shouted, “SECURITY! Get that man under control!” Reginald quickly found himself face down on the floor with hands cuffed behind him, while he huffed into the carpet. “You are charged with contempt! Confine him to a cell until court resumes. Officers of the court! My chambers, NOW!”
Jenny strained not to smile as she gave a slight shake of her head to Becky. Becky knew well enough not to respond to the reporters who yelled questions over each other. She gave a believable look of unwitting grief as she looked around from her seat, dabbing her eyes with a tissue for effect. Finally, a security officer offered her an out, “Can I take you somewhere private until court resumes?”
Becky was escorted into an anteroom off one side of the courtroom. She had to keep up her act as the official stood inside the door. Eventually poking his head out, he saw other employees filing back in. Becky was shown back to her seat. Reginald too was escorted in with cuffs now in front of him and security standing just behind his seat. In the interim, even more reporters crowded into the courtroom, faces gawking at screens and whispers between them. When the Judge entered, a security officer had to repeat “All rise!” twice to get their attention. The Judge wasn’t in the mood and waved his hand for those not paying attention to remain as they were.
Noticing the increase of people and phones out, “Bloody hell. What now?” He pointed again to the female reporter, “You there, let’s have it.”
She anxiously replied, “Sir, there’s a video out.” Everyone went silent, looking from the reporter to the Judge.
“Let me guess, one of the girls in your rag, eh?”
“No Sir! I can’t really say… It came across during the recess.”
The Judge waved her over to the bench. The reporter was abashed at being designated leader of the rabble and slowly met the Judge with phone in hand. Taking it, he shifted in his chair, and then shifted again. His eyes went wide as he murmured under his breath, “My word!” He watched for a minute more, “Hmm. I… um, I see. How much more is there?”
“Your Honor, the women are in it for almost three hours. But the professor… it goes on for at least another five before the cleaners find him, and then there’s the police.”
Indeed, during the break, a video had been leaked from the university campus. A subsequent inquiry showed it originated from the email account of one non-existent Jeff R. Y. Chaucer from Canterbury. The video was edited as it had no sound up until the two latex clad vixens left, there were then five hours of Reginald under tortured duress and gagging, the custodial crew’s shocking discovery, the police, and then it spliced with a close-up news recording of Reginald being escorted down the steps. The video was automatically uploaded to a library server the day of Becky’s court date, which then distributed it to the student body. From there it inevitably went viral, spreading like wildfire. What puzzled everyone at first, besides the identities of the two super-hot femmes fatales, was what was written on the professor before the mysterious Dommes left him to his fate. It read in large black permanent marker, ‘Need Help? Call Police!’ Initial thoughts were that it was a message for whomever discovered him, only later being recognized as a billboard for anyone who had been coerced by the professor into sex for grades.
Reginald clasped his head, eyes down, unable to fathom what was going on, by whom, or when. He wished against odds that all of this was some nightmare he would wake up from. The rest of the divorce proceedings morphed into the fifth circle of hell as far as the professor was concerned. Once the proceeding reconvened, even his own forensic accountant provided minimal effort on his behalf, leading his own counsel to ask the Judge to treat its own witness as hostile. The Judge simply scoffed, eager for the circus to be out of his courtroom. Jenny, subtle as a wasp in a car full of children, jabbed, parried, and hurled insinuations, inferences, and innuendo at Reginald. The reporters ate it up. She succeeded in entering the tabloid and video into evidence, shredding Reginald’s character and what little reputation he had left. Finally, his own counsel was ready to throw in the towel, and Reginald refused to say anything.
Under Jenny’s representation, Becky won nearly everything, the house, money, car, everything. The one stipulation was Reginald’s forced alimony ended, not that he had a job to go back to anyway. The divorce papers signed, finalized, and filled, Reginald hastened to leave the courtroom. He was stopped dead in the hall when the female detective sergeant that interviewed him days earlier stared him down, a pair of handcuffs in hand. Reporters stood on either side, like the parted Red Sea in silent observance.
“Ah, professor. You wouldn’t mind coming back to the precinct to answer some more questions, will you?”
Becky and Jenny drove to their cul-de-sac in silent cheer. There wasn’t a word or a glance before Becky got out in front of her house. “Thanks,” was all she said with a wide smile.
“You’re welcome, though I’m curious. My friend will have to fill in the blanks someday.”
“…Someday. For half so boldly can there no man swear and lie, as a woman can.” Becky went into her house with court documents in hand.
Jenny circled back to her own home, went to the bedroom and got into her fetish wear for Lloyd’s punishment. Like she said, win or lose, he was going to pay.
Gussied up much like her inspiration, the ‘Devil Girl from Mars’, she sauntered into the basement. Lloyd looked up from his position. “My Mistress, congratulations!”
She said nothing but walked slowly to the wall where she picked out a matching set of long leather floggers. Lloyd’s expression changed as he swallowed hard. Jenny had a knowing smile. The air whooshed with some practice swings behind her love. Lloyd said nothing and stared straight ahead. Whack! Whack! Whoosh. Whack! With the skill of a martial artist wielding deadly instruments, Mistress J began striking her intended’s derriere in a rhythmic pattern. Some passes were mere brushes while others had a hard snap in them. Lloyd kept a disciplined demeanor until near the end.
“Ahh!” At his first cry, she dropped one of the floggers, taking the other with both hands and wound up.
Smack! “Oh! One, Mistress! Thank you!” Smack! “Uhnn! Two, Mistress! Thank you!” Smack! “OH! Three, Mistress! Thank you!”… This went on for another half dozen strikes, Lloyd’s cock hardened within its cage, his backside a sharp pink.
“Get on the table, face up.” The order was snarled as he was released from the cock pillory. The chain was locked with his arms over his head at one end while his ankles were fixed at the other. Mistress J retrieved a dildo connected to a belt and a wand vibe. “Get your hips up.” The brutal latex goddess cinched the belt around his waist with the dildo just above his own caged unit. She lubed it and proceeded to straddle Lloyd, working the eight-inch rubber dong into her wet pussy. She pushed the wand against her clit before slapping Lloyd’s face, “Fuck me you twit!” Lloyd bucked as best he could, being drawn tight against the table. “Uhn! Yeah, yeah! This is what you’re going to be missing for a month bitch! Ooh!”
As Mistress J got off, she continued her denigrations of her slave, pinching his nipples and choking him with one hand. “Speed Up! I wanna cum NOW! If I don’t, it’ll be two months!” Lloyd did his best as Jenny finally got worked into gratifying climax. “Oh! OH! Yes, YES! Serve your Mistress! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD!” Lloyd’s muscles were burning as he awkwardly bounced at a high rate of speed. “OOOhhh! YES! YES SLAVE! YES!” Exploding juices over his body, she slowed, got off him, and slathered his face with her essence. “You remember that for disobeying me you worm.” Mistress J then strapped the wand to Lloyd’s thigh, vibrating against his balls and cage while she stripped out of her latex attire. The tub was filled with invitingly steamy water and bubbles in the corner. She relaxed in it for an hour, sipping a fine white wine, as she listened and watched Lloyd plead with her and squirm, edged over and over but denied orgasm, a smile on her lips the entire time.
Meanwhile, Becky didn’t quite know what to do once she was home. Paula was busy getting Arnold’s mum settled and setting up the nursery. Linda was at a travel agency conference downtown. Wenda wasn’t answering her phone either. She finally dialed the last number of her regulars.
“Hello, Justin?”
It took Justin an hour to turn up, a bit longer than usual, Becky mused. She looked with curiosity as he pulled the large new tool bag carefully from the truck bed.
Noticing he supplied, “Oh, old habits ya know. Besides, I just got it and I wouldn’t want anyone taking it.” Inside, he set it gently beside him. “So, I heard court went your way. I don’t suppose it had anything to do with the news lately?”
“He earned everything he got.”
“I suppose he did. So, what did you want me here for?”
Becky slipped off the black silk kimono revealing her naked body. “I felt like celebrating. One last time before…”
Justin ran a hand down her cheek, beholding at the pearls around her neck and down her gorgeous body to the red high heels that adorned her feet. “…One last time.” He peaked down at the bag when Becky turned and walked a few steps to her study. When she got to the doorway he said, “There’s just, uh… I’ll only go so far now that I’m not billing for special services anymore.”
Becky was again curious, the slightest of smiles on her lips. “Is there someone in your… life now?” The long pause in her sentence may have caused a slight shudder from the bag, or maybe she imagined it.
Justin smirked, “Something like that.” He picked up the bag and followed her in, setting it down again, sidelong just inside the door. He slowly removed his shirt as Becky sat on the edge of the leather chair behind the desk.
Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales laid open to the well-thumbed, dogeared portion containing the Wife of Bath’s prologue on the large baroque desk. She tapped her tablet to resume playing the video she’d released during court. Justin gave a quick mischievous grin to the tool bag as he fumbled with something in his back pocket, then got down on all fours and deliberately crawled beneath the desk. The bag creased slightly, not that anyone noticed. He gently prized Becky’s legs apart as she set the tablet upright on its stand. Justin left his hands on her thighs as he inhaled her sex, taking a slow lick up her quim. Becky turned up the volume as a low moan escaped her wide, wicked smile. Her eyes twinkled, fixed upon the screen as she tossed her strawberry blond hair behind her. She reclined on the edge of the burgundy leather Chesterfield chair, putting one leg atop the desk. Justin suckled her clit, drawing haughty gasps of air from her as she fixed upon the screen, rubbing her nipples with one hand as she grasped the chair’s arm with the other. At this moment, she was happier than at any other time in her life.
‘…It’s not what it looks like! This isn’t right! I was tricked! I was… was framed!’
‘Come on guvna’, that’s it then. Jeff! You wanna put your own bracelets on ‘im?’
‘I’m telling you man! Get your hands off me! This is my office! This is… I was tricked!’
‘I’ll get the blanket to toss over ‘em. Blimy he stinks! Listen, just come along quick like. The journos are already campin’ on the steps.’
‘No! No! This is wrong! Damn that girl! Damn you all!…’
The screen cut to black for a moment before it cut back in with a news crew’s view from the steps outside.
Becky ran a hand into his hair as Justin worked a finger into her sex, continuing to tickle her clitoris with his agile tongue. “Hmmm, that’s it Justin. Ohh… You do such good work. HMmmm…” He varied his technique, lapping at her button as he pushed his warm digit in and out of her. “Ooooh! Oh! Not too fast dear. I want to enjoy this. It’s been so very long in coming.” Click. The film started again, the timer reading several hours in length as Becky’s lustful breathing quickened… She thought she may have heard a muted sigh or squeak from the bag now and again, though she was too focused on enjoying herself to give it much thought.
The next day, nearly at dawn, Vera and Rebecca both received knocks at their doors. Neither had been sleeping well and expected a visit from the police at any moment. However, on this morning, both were surprised to find a courier service delivered a padded envelope containing a rental locker key and a type-written card.
From: Ms. Bath
To: My most treasured Birds
Body: I apologize for not contacting you sooner and for leaving you in the dark regarding events made public. I want to congratulate you for taking care of our pig. I’m sure he will be penned for quite some time. Unfortunately, we shall never meet again but as a gift, I have one final task for you. Be at London Bridge Station at precisely eleven o’clock with the enclosed key. I wish you the very best in your future endeavors. XO, Ms. Bath
Both girls arrived at the metro at the prescribed time, looking over their shoulders and staying clear of patrolmen. Neither had seen or talked to each other since Reginald’s disgrace at the university. Upon catching sight of one another, they carefully and surreptitiously closed the distance between them.
“…Athena.”
“…Aphrodite.”
Both smiled as the distance between them closed some more near the rental lockers.
“Ms. Bath?” Rebecca asked.
“Yes.” Vera looked around, hoping to see Becky nearby.
“Well, it’s eleven o’clock. You figure we’re supposed to use these keys?”
Vera held hers up, “Only one way to tell.”
The keys belonged to adjoining lockers. Both inserted their key and gave each other a cautious look. For whatever reason, they turned them at the same time and opened the door. Each pulled a thick envelope with a finely scripted phrase across the front.
‘We love no man who takes notice or concern about where we go; we will be free to do as we wish.’
Rebecca’s eyes practically popped out of her head, “Crikey! There’s gotta be 25,000 quid in this!”
Vera was almost faint, “Mine too!”
Both clutched their envelopes as they looked around, expecting Ms. Bath to emerge from the shadows. However, a minute passed as commuters and the odd tourist shuffled by without notice. Seeing no one familiar, they gave each other a warm smile and prepared to go their separate ways.
Rebecca had just turned and taken a few steps when, “Maybe… Maybe we can have tea sometime, if you want to… Athena.”
She half turned with a warm smile, “I believe that would be quite nice… Aphrodite.”
Epilogue
Over the following weeks and months, girls came to the detective in dribs and drabs. All had similar stories about Reginald and their grades. Nadine cut off all contact, closing herself within the family estate until her name faded from headlines. Becky was never a suspect as she was in France during the professor’s night in the stockade and in court when the video came out. The pictures were sent from a public postbox three days before the divorce proceedings with no identifying biometrics or return address. Becky had honed her digital editing skills, blurring out Reginald’s victims’ faces, in the campus library using Jeff Chaucer’s credentials, months before sending them out to the tabloids. All in all, everything was well tied up with a neat little bow. Reginald was soon in a penitentiary, teaching fellow prisoners in an attempt to knock some time off his considerable term. The exploits of his video followed him, even behind bars, for the rest of his life.
Vera and Rebecca formed a unique bond involving bondage, pleasurably kinky scenes, and a blossoming love between them. Shortly after graduation they moved to Edinburgh, living out their dreams in a shared apartment, marrying a few years later. Ms. Bath sent a large monetary endowment in lieu of a gift which read, ‘I speak of woe that is in marriage, I never used discretion when in love’. The quote was received warmly by the couple, finding a place in a needlepoint frame above the mantle.
While building her travel agency, Linda kept bumping into a Greek tour guide named Nikolaos. He was larger than life, and a bit large in the waistline but always jovial with a penchant for dancing and food. While she’d sworn off ever getting married again, much less to another rotund man, he was persistent and full of the ardor missing from her first husband. They traveled frequently between Greece and England, visiting each other for weeks at a time. Three years after meeting in London, he performed one of the most romantic gestures Linda had ever dreamed of. Nikolaos took her on a private yacht to a private island for three days of romance, dancing, candle lit dinners, moonlit walks on the beach, singing to her while playing his grandfather’s tzouras, and concluded with a proposal on a cliff overlooking the ocean at sunset. Overcome by his affection and love, she said yes immediately. He said he was glad, for if she’d turned him down, he would have thrown himself into the sea. It was the storybook marriage she’d always dreamed of.
Paula and Arnold had their hands extra full as they found themselves the parents of twins. He retired from the Navy and took a civil service role to keep the family afloat. And while their sex life slowed due to the pressures of parenthood, Arnold’s mother moving in had been a godsend, allowing them brief nights of passion where Paula could be gratifyingly spanked, caned, and flogged while tied to hotel furnishings.
Jenny and Lloyd’s law firm grew, and they took on more partners to give themselves more time for each other and their kinky pursuits. Their private dungeon remained well stocked and regularly utilized. They remained a loving, committed couple, feeding their passions for the other’s sexual needs and desires well beyond their retirements.
After the trial, Becky was a local curiosity with court followers driving by her residence for a few weeks. She took the interest in stride, never giving anyone anything of note to gossip about. A year later, her friends were shocked to see a ‘For Sale’ sign posted in her front yard. She retired from the university, twenty-five years was more than enough, to live out her dream of owning a B&B in the Cotswolds. Becky bought a small acreage near Cirencester, converting a 19th century two-story stone farmhouse into an inn for lovers. She came to impose on the farmer next door when his sheep escaped his fenceline and into her front yard, eating her freshly planted flowers. Slightly older than she, he was a tall, quiet, imposing man with long blond hair and a full beard. He spent his entire life on his farm, a hulking brute due to rural labor and working in all weather. She reminded him of a Viking with a west country accent. Becky was attracted by his adeptness with rope and knots, tying up sheep to be shorn. Becky noted he found excuses to bring local wine, vegetables, and woolen attire over, in addition to replanting her flower beds. He thought she was very attractive, smart, and cultured. Coming on to him, she convinced him to use his scotch hobble skills on her, a thoroughly enjoyable sexual encounter time after time, indoors and out. While they never married, they remained a couple well into their golden years.
Neither had planned to fall in love, but when Justin ended his special services, Wenda tried going back to the way things used to be. Only she couldn’t. Her desire grew and as time went by without Justin, she found or created excuses to call him around to her place. Each time, he drove the length from Adlington to London for a washcloth stuffed down a drain, a couple railings accidentally busted out, a door that wouldn’t close properly, and other contrived repairs. She tried charming and flirting with Justin, dressing provocatively and even the ‘just out of the shower in a robe’ seduction. The weight of knowing he was so far away and likely to be gone from her life as more time went by was more than she could bear. Justin knew what she really wanted but was trying to move on with his life and not fall back into being someone’s paid toy, though she pulled at his feelings as well. Finally, when Justin came by to fix a broken window, Wenda let him have it. It was raw emotion with two people who had an attraction to one another, and for the physical connection she felt when he ticked her wanton lust for bondage and sex. She said there was nothing for him to lose, and he finally acquiesced, but only if they started over together in his new town and left the past where it was in London. Wenda agreed and spent more time with him, an unusual courtship of kinky predicament S&M for her and dominance for him. Wenda finally left the cul-de-sac for good, moving in with Justin in Adlington shortly after Becky left. When he finally proposed to her, she said yes, but only if a fixed date for the wedding was set that very night. She mentioned having a bad experience years before.