Maid Service (27 page)

He continued to ponder the question as he drove east with the four girls drinking champagne and laughing together in the back of the minibus, but the only postulate that seemed to fit was that his friends shared a highly perverse sense of humor. Unfortunately it was also a dangerous one, and he decided to impose new rules to reduce the risk of disaster, which served to remind him of Felicity's breach of agreed conduct. She was the first to be dropped off, at the apartment on the edge of Docklands which she shared with two other girls, both innocent of her lucrative sideline. That meant she had to be dealt with in the van. Not easy in the middle of London, but he knew the perfect place.

A slight adjustment to the route allowed him to park behind what had once been St. Botolph's Church. It was now a block of exclusive apartments, but it looked much the same and the alley behind it was no more busy that it had been on the memorable night nearly eight years before. He was smiling as he drew the van to a halt, thoroughly happy with his life despite his tiredness and looking forward to the prospect of dishing out one more spanking.

“Why have we stopped?” Felicity asked, although the tone of her voice suggested that she knew the answer perfectly well.

“Three of the embassy staff, I believe it was?” Peter queried. “I don't imagine they were members of the club, either?”

“They paid,” Felicity countered, now openly alarmed. “Quite well, too. One of them was the ambassador!”

“I don't care if he was an emperor,” Peter replied. “You know the rules.”

“Oh come on!” Felicity urged. “Not now, and not … not in front of Chloe!”

Peter ignored her, but climbed into the back, seating himself in the seat he invariably used for spankings, where he had plenty of leg room while the girls' backsides remained nicely on show to other passengers.

“A spanking now, or the cane later,” he told her, “and either way, it's going to have to be in front of Chloe.”

“Why?” Felicity demanded. “That's not fair!”

Rhiannon giggled at her friend's petulant tone, earning herself a smack on the leg.

“Don't laugh at me,” Felicity told her. “Or the next time you get it I'll make sure he uses a hairbrush!”

“Ooh, good idea!” Rhiannon laughed, digging in her bag to pull out a long handled, wooden hairbrush. “Go on, Peter, spank her!”

“Bitch!” Felicity snapped. “Look, Peter, I …”

“A spanking now,” Peter interrupted. “Or the cane later.”

“Oh all right,” Felicity answered, pouting badly as she lay herself down across Peter's legs. “You can spank me, but not with her hairbrush.”

Peter said nothing, but took a firm grip around her waist, fixing her in place before he turned her uniform skirt up onto her back and pulled down her panties. The other girls quickly gathered around to watch—Rhiannon and Henrietta bright-eyed and giggling, Chloe shocked but still fascinated to see the girl whose knee she'd been over so often get a dose of her own medicine. Felicity stayed silent, sulky but compliant, until Peter took the hairbrush from Rhiannon.

“Hey, no!” she squeaked. “That's not fair, come on …”

“This is discipline, hence the hairbrush,” Peter stated and brought it down with a firm smack across Felicity's bottom.

“Bitch!” Felicity repeated, twisting around to stick her tongue out at Rhiannon. “I'll get you for this, and you needn't think you're going to get a show out of me.”

Peter didn't comment, but began to spank harder and faster, vigorous smacks delivered full on the tuck of Felicity's fleshy little cheeks in rapid succession, instantly robbing her of any chance of coping with the pain. She withstood it for a few seconds, grunting through gritted teeth as she struggled to retain her dignity before giving in. First she began to wriggle and toss her hair, then to squirm and kick her legs. Finally, she surrendered completely, letting go of her emotions in a fine spanking tantrum with her fists thumping on the floor of the minibus and her thighs pumping to make a thoroughly rude show of her most private places. Peter continued to spank until he was sure the other girls had all had a good look, then stopped. Felicity jumped up, open mouthed with shock and clutching her hot bottom as she jumped up and down in a futile effort to dull the pain, which only served to inspire more giggling from the other three. Rhiannon retrieved her hairbrush while Peter, now grinning broadly and more pleased with himself than ever, pulled down his zip.

“Not that too!” Felicity protested as he exposed himself.

“Go on, Flick,” Henrietta mocked. “Be a good girl and say thank you nicely.”

Felicity turned a furious scowl toward Henrietta, but she got onto the seat beside Peter, kneeling with her bottom lifted high as she took his cock into her mouth. He began to stroke her cheeks as she sucked, enjoying the heat of her skin and the faint trembling of her body. A finger snuck between her thighs to reveal that she was every bit as wet as he'd expected, while the other girls gathered close, Henrietta and Chloe with their arms around each other, Rhiannon cupping Peter's balls and gently masturbating him into Felicity's mouth.

It took him a few minutes to get fully hard, his balls still drained after fucking Henrietta, by which time Felicity had begun to stick her bottom up higher still, making the pout of her pussy and the pucker of her ass available to his fingers. He took full advantage, easing open her vagina, as Rhiannon smiled conspiratorially and pulled a tube of lubricant from her bag. Peter grinned, watching as Rhiannon drizzled the fluid between the crests of Felicity's well-reddened bottom, and still more between her cheeks, directly onto her anus. Felicity gave a muffled sob as she felt the cool fluid on her skin, but she began to suck harder on Peter's erection as Rhiannon massaged her flesh and Peter continued to finger her.

Chloe had soon joined in too, taking over with the lube while Rhiannon and Henrietta began to kiss. Peter began to wonder just how far he could take it, with Felicity's head now bobbing urgently up and down on his straining cock. They'd fucked twice before, and she'd already had three men that evening. But her luscious bottom had been on full display during her spanking and Peter was quite sure she had not been entered there. Easing his fingers from her vagina, he began to tease between her ass cheeks, rubbing lube over the little textured crevice of her anus as he spoke.

“Maybe, Felicity, what you really need is a nice, big cock in your ass?”

Her sucking immediately grew more urgent, maybe in a desperate effort to make him come in her mouth before she was sodomized, maybe in anticipation of exactly that. Peter chose to assume that she would let him, easing one finger up into the tight little hole he'd been lubricating. She gave another heartfelt sob and suddenly she'd come up off his cock, only to start to rub it all over her face and lick at his balls.

“Up the back it is,” he told her, fingering her anus for just a moment longer. When she didn't protest he pulled her around.

She let him guide her, her bottom pushed out into his lap, pale and round and beautiful in the dim light, in full view of the other three girls. Grinning more broadly than ever, Peter pressed his cock to her anus, watching as the slippery little ring began to open, taking him gradually inside. Rhiannon took hold of his cock, steering it up into Felicity's back way until she was sitting firmly on his lap, now upright, her thighs spread wide, his balls pressed to her equally slippery vagina. He took her by the waist, bouncing her on his cock as she gasped and panted her way through the lewd act, when suddenly Chloe scrambled over the seats, got down on her knees and buried her face in Felicity's cunt. She was licking at Peter's balls as well, pushing him closer to orgasm, but he held off, eager to feel Felicity's anus tighten on his shaft when she came, which seemed likely to be at any instant. Already her muscles had begun to contract, and she was begging Chloe to lick harder and squirming her bottom into Peter's lap, her voice thick with ecstasy, then breaking to a scream as she hit her orgasm.

Peter began to pump hard into her rectum, eager to fill her with cum as she came, with the glorious sensation of her anal ring tightening over and around his cock. She screamed out again, her body locked in orgasm, her belly pushed out into Chloe's face—too far. His cock slipped from her bottom just as he started to come. Cum splashed into Chloe's face, but she'd taken hold, and to Peter's astonishment fed his cock into her mouth, drawn fresh from her girlfriend's ass, to suck and swallow, choking as she received the rest of his spume down her throat, keeping him deep in her mouth until at last he was spent.

Chloe had made herself come with busy fingers, in a perfect trio of orgasm, while Henrietta was already pulling down Rhiannon's uniform to get at her breasts. Leaving the girls to play together, Peter climbed down from the van to check that no one had seen, and to draw the cool, pre-dawn air into his lungs. The eastern sky was already getting light, but the streets were quiet, save for a car that pulled away from a space directly opposite the entrance to the short blind alley where he'd parked. It had been small and dark colored, much like the one he'd seen near the Grove and at Waddesdon. The driver had been in a hurry. He walked quickly to the end of the alley, but the car was already gone.

“You're getting paranoid, Peter,” Stephen Richards laughed as he sat back in his armchair at the Grove. “The world's full of little blue cars.”

“I find it pays to be cautious,” Peter replied. “So, if you don't mind, I'll go on ahead while you keep an eye on the end of the lane, then follow five minutes later. We can meet up again at the golf club and run through the same procedure when we come back with your clients.”

“If you insist,” Stephen answered. “But you make it sound like something out of a James Bond film, except that I'm sure no self-respecting movie spy would be caught dead driving a Ford Fiesta.”

“It was a Mini Metro, I think,” Peter told him, “and it's probably nothing, but I'm sure you'll agree that this afternoon's entertainment is best kept private?”

“Absolutely,” Stephen agreed. “Ah, there you are, girls. They're going to love you!”

Clementine, Felicity and Chloe had come downstairs, shepherded by Michelle, while Rhiannon could be heard laughing from the bedroom. All three of the younger girls were in identical outfits, and all three looked somewhat sheepish, Clementine most of all.

“I feel silly,” she announced, lifting the hem of her Union Flag minidress.

“Blame the Spice Girls,” Peter answered, trying not to laugh.

“Geri Halliwell didn't have to wear frilly knickers under her dress,” Clementine pointed out, “and they didn't show either, not like this. I mean, look!”

Even from the front, a puff of frills had been visible below the hem of her dress. But as she turned to show off the back, Peter gave up trying not to grin. The dress was tight at the waist and flared to a pleated skirt that was not only far too short to cover Clementine's bottom properly, but pushed up and out by a great froth of lace that nevertheless did very little to conceal the contours of her cheeks. The upper part of her dress was scarcely more decent, with the material tight over her breasts to make it very obvious indeed that she had no bra underneath, while Union Flag stockings, little white pumps on her feet and a bright red ribbon in her hair all combined to make her look both rude and ridiculous. Felicity was no better, identically dressed but for a blue hair ribbon, although the sulky scowl on her face didn't really suit the image. Chloe was more stoical, and merely looked embarrassed, although her fuller bottom made the effect of comic smut even more exaggerated.

“You look lovely,” Peter said. “Well, sexy, in a Benny Hill sort of way.”

“I'm sorry, really,” Stephen added, chuckling. “But that's what they wanted, and the client is king.”

“The client is a pervert,” Felicity put in.

“But a rich pervert,” Peter pointed out, “and rich perverts tend to get their way. Come on girls, cheer up. Smile, wiggle your bottoms, and remember, plenty of deference. But don't overdo it. Too much and they'll think you're making fun of them. They may be perverts, but they're not stupid.”

“We know what to do,” Clementine assured him.

“You don't expect us to come to the golf club like this, do you?” Chloe asked.

“Of course not,” Peter assured her. “Michelle and Rhiannon can drive up with us to keep them happy, and you're to be ready with cold beers when we get back, along with anything else they want, and that means anything.”

“We know,” Felicity answered him.

“Excellent,” Peter said, rising from the sofa, “and do you remember what I said about the wrestling?”

“Yes,” Clementine confirmed. “We're to make it look as if we really hate each other.”

“Think humiliation,” Felicity added.

“That's right,” Peter said, “and above all, make it look real. Ok, let's go. Five minutes behind me please, Stephen.”

They followed the plan but nothing untoward happened, leaving Peter feeling slightly foolish but very relieved as they pulled up in front of the golf club where Stephen had installed his clients for the weekend. There were six of them, all dressed more or less alike, in sober, well cut suits with plain ties and highly polished shoes. All were as fastidious in their manners as in their dress, but there the similarities ended. One, Mr. Drach, was plainly the senior man, older than the others, with a brisk, business-like manner and a hard edge. His accountant and lawyer, Zoran Zoranov and Miroslav Petrović, were short and tall respectively, but united by a cruel humor. Two others, both large, silent men with dark glasses and carefully trimmed beards, hadn't been introduced by name but appeared to be security. The last, introduced simply as Kralj, had no obvious function and seemed cold and humorless, while even his polite manners somehow came across as sinister.