Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

  His instructions for her appearance had been clear. Something classy to go out in, but without any hint of her profession or too much make-up. He had to be able to bring her back to the apartment without raising eyebrows from nosy neighbours.

  The sound of a vehicle snapped Brendan to attention and he turned in his seat, his heart beginning to thump in his chest. A late model sedan did a slow cruise of the car park, driving past him until the circle was complete. It pulled in and parked two bays away. The tinted windows allowed him no view of who was inside.

  A man got out from the passenger’s side and stared straight at him without expression. He was younger than Brendan with an average height and slim build. His face was narrow, with small eyes and thin tightly pursed lips. He leant against the car and remained staring as a much bigger man emerged from the driver’s side, bald and broad with muscle.

  Nervously, Brendan got out and took a deep breath, straightening his jacket. The big man held his hand out. “Passport.”

  Brendan approached, taking out his passport and handing it to him. The man studied it, looking from it to Brendan, and then gave it back.

  Opening the door, the man leaned in and brought out a mobile EFTPOS machine and held his hand out again.

  “Not until I see her,” Brendan remarked.

  The man eyed him for a moment and then opened the back door. Brendan saw a hint of darkly tanned legs and red heels. His breathe caught in his throat as the rest of her was revealed, stepping from the car, in a shimmery, red, strapless dress. He laughed softly in awe.

  She was so much more than he’d expected, and her youth was breath-taking. She couldn’t have been much more than twenty and her breasts were ample and pert. Her dark skin was a surprise, and with her long black hair, Brendan was reminded of Adele. The lack of expression in her face bordered on contempt, only inciting his interest.

  “Satisfied,” the smaller man asked.

  Brendan nodded. “What’s her name?”

  “Her name is whatever you fucking want to call her. She understands English perfectly and talks it good enough and she knows what to do, so swipe your card.”

  As Brendan paid, the man continued to give instructions. “You keep your hands away from her face. If she comes back with any long lasting marks, you pay for the time she’s off until they heal up. If you try to cancel your card, we come after you and be sure we have connections in Australia.”

  “And she isn’t totally new at this?” Brendan queried, wanting to be blunt about his needs.

  “She knows exactly what to do and she knows how much we hate unsatisfied customers.”

  “Why the card?” Brendan asked. “I thought these things were done with cash.”

  The man laughed. “I take it that you are new at this. Don’t worry. According to your next statement, you’ve just paid for a consultancy with a legitimate financial management company in Bangkok.”

  Through their talk the girl hadn’t looked at him and stood silently staring out at nothing.

  “She doesn’t smile much, does she?” Brendan commented.

  “You want her to smile, you tell her to smile.” The man turned to her. “Mr. North would like a happy, friendly girl on his arm tonight.”

  Immediately her face warmed and full lips parted to show white teeth. “It is wonderful to meet you, Mr. North.”

  “Brendan,” he told her and looked to the man. “What accent is that? Russian?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Just make sure she’s out of your room by two or you’ll go into overtime and pay for it. Other than that, have fun.”

  With that, the men were back in the car and pulling out, leaving Brendan nervously alone with the girl. He gave her an awkward smile. “So what should I call you?”

  “I am happy that you call me something that you like,” she said shyly.

  A wide grin spread over his face. “Okay. Tonight you are Adele and you can call me Brendan.”

  She nodded, still smiling. “Adele. That is a pretty name.”

  “For a pretty girl,” he said, taking her hand. “Well, Adele, let’s go back to my hotel and have a quiet drink before we head out and then you can show me some of your talents.”

  “I look forward to pleasing you,” she smiled.

  He studied her dark skin, mouth and almond shaped eyes. “You look Maori or Samoan. You just don’t sound it.”

  Her smile waned and she stared back at him. “I’m Ukrainian.”

  “That’s near Russia, isn’t it?”

  She nodded but the smile was gone completely. Brendan noticed she was trembling slightly and was reminded of his power over her for the next several hours. She was a whore, not a date, and there was no need for any polite interludes.

  “I didn’t know they had dark beauties like you, over there. You got a pretty mouth, fantastic lips.” He laughed and added, “Adele.” His eyes wandered over her breasts. “I think I’m going to enjoy fucking you tonight, Adele, after we’ve been for a drink or two. There’s a club I want to check out, but first, I think I’m going to have to try out those lips of yours. Let’s go sit in the car.”

  He felt the confidence and excitement surging through him as he opened the passenger door for her. His cock was stiffening as he climbed in the other side. Lifting up, he began to undo his trousers.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty,” she replied.

  He was sure she was telling the truth but far beyond caring. “Alright, Adele, get your lips around this.”

  As her mouth descended on him, he trembled with arousal. She promised to be well worth the price tag and everything the ad had promised. Sometimes it paid to check out some of those random spam emails that found their way into his account.

  * * * * *

  After queueing for over an hour to get into Silver Dreams nightclub, Jessica Young was finally inside and pushing through a thick gyrating crowd towards the bar. The view over their heads was impressive with mirrored walls and the big silver stage with three shiny poles being the main focus.

  The strip show didn’t begin until ten. Until then a DJ was keeping everyone entertained with loud thumping music, with intervals of stirring the crowd’s expectations of the night’s events, shouting out names of girls who would be appearing. Each name received varying amounts of hollering, cheers and whistles.

  Jessica scowled, disgusted by how anyone could get excited about a stripper. It was when he made a particular build-up over one girl, she got furious. The crowd was shouting and cheering the name before the DJ had even announced it.

  Mairead.

  “Just fucked-up,” Jessica mumbled as she pushed to the front of the bar.

  It was another twenty minutes before she got served. It infuriated her that this place was so popular and Mairead Vaughn was treated as some kind of superstar, while Barry was stuck in prison because of the bitch.

  In the meagre time allotted to visiting hours, it seemed Mairead and Adele were all Barry wanted to talk about. He’d certainly had plenty to say about Adele that day. Her time was up and she hadn’t come through with anything, even with an extra week, and Barry was over it. After the holidays, he would do a deal with the Crown Prosecutor, and was sure to get one hell of a cut in his sentence. The damning evidence he had on Adele, carried plenty of weight.

  Jessica was always impressed by how smart Barry was, even if he did have a temper. Who else would have thought to tape his meetings with Adele? And now that very evidence was in Jessica’s safe keeping. It was really quite humbling that he had picked her to look after it.

  Through the years, Barry had fucked many girls, but he’d always come back to her eventually. It might be months or a year, but it was always exciting and terrifying to see him walk in as if he owned the place. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want him there. Within minutes he would be fucking her anyway, and after a while she would allow herself to enjoy it. He might stay on for a few days, but a
lways left her with a big wad of money.

  Looking around, she could see plenty of girls, happy to get drunk off some idiot’s money and then not wanting to put out. It wasn’t like that with Barry. He didn’t take no for an answer. In a way, Jessica admired him for it and she was certain he had feelings for her. Hadn’t it been her that he’d trusted to guard his evidence?

  Now she wanted to know everything about him, and this club was the place to see two of Barry’s most hated individuals, James and Mairead Vaughn. Pushing through the crowd, Jessica finally made her way near the front and looked over to the private booths near the stage.

  Jessica had heard that a lot of big names visited the club, including players from the All Blacks rugby team and even TV stars. At the moment there was only two people in the front booth, a very attractive blonde woman and one hell of a good looking guy in a suit.

  He was almost like a movie star, with his handsome face, black hair and dark eyes. When he stood up, she could see he was as tall as Barry, maybe not as broad, but definitely sporting some muscles under that suit. Looking around, she scowled to see other girls eyeing him up, caught up in their girly groups and giggling like teenagers.

  There was a time she used to do that nonsense, but not since meeting Barry all those years ago. He’d taught her a lesson then about accepting drinks and saying no. These days she only bought her own, not that men took any interest in her now, not with a couple of missing teeth and a scar that ran the length of her face. At least Barry came back.

  * * * * *

  James Vaughn sat with Vanessa de Veer, watching Mairead, twist and glide her body around a pole, clad in only the tiniest pieces of white sparkling material and silver threads. The crowd was memorized by her performance, cheering and applauding at each thrilling manoeuvre.

  The whole atmosphere was electrified, and nothing pushed Mairead to perform her best like a lively crowd. James winced at some of the more dangerous stunts performed high on the pole, and frowned at the more seductive movements, evoking whoops and whistles from the audience. Vanessa spied his face and laughed.

  “You hate it, don’t you?”

  “Sharing my wife with that lot?” He nodded. “Yes, I do, but there’s not much I can do about it. This is what she wants to do.”

  “And is bloody brilliant at it,” Vanessa reminded him. “She’s the one who draws the crowds. Look at her. She’s magnificent and that body of hers…”

  “Stop perving on my wife,” he growled.

  “Me and everyone else,” Vanessa laughed. “Sorry James, but you’re the one who married a hot, little pole dancer. Just pretend like she does, that they’re only watching for her talent.”

  “This isn’t her act. Justine is supposed to be on and where the hell did she get that costume? That’s not what she usually wears.”

  “Leave her alone. She looks fantastic and it covers most of the naughty bits, except maybe that magnificent arse of hers, oh, and when she does the splits, it gets a little dodgy.”

  James glared at his blonde friend. “You’re not helping, Vanessa.”

  “Get over yourself, James. This is what you do, and a lot of women wouldn’t be happy about their husband owning a strip club. Not only does she support you, but she is a huge reason why we are successful.”

  “I know, but this was the dream of a single man who planned on remaining single.”

  “You idiot. The moment you got involved with Mairead, I sensed you deserting the blessed realm of singlehood.”

  “Speaking of which,” James grinned. “How’s the new girlfriend going?”

  “She’ll be here before midnight,” Vanessa grinned. “And it will be our fourth date this Sunday.”

  “Really, that has to be some sort of record for you.”

  Vanessa laughed. “I’m really quite fond of her. Great set of tits and she’s exploratory.”

  “Meaning?”

  “She has a fascination with kink and would like to experiment, nothing too adventurous, a little spanking, a little bondage, but she’s an eager student.”

  “In the hands of a very experienced teacher.”

  “I’m certainly enjoying educating her.”

  “When does it get serious?”

  “Give me time. It’s only been a couple of months. She’s nervous about doing the social thing and I’m not sure she approves of my choice of employment, which just goes to show how lucky you are to have someone like Mairead.”

  “I know, but I’m still hoping she might find an interest in something else. She hasn’t given much thought to a career, other than this place. So, what does your girl do?”

  “Sophie is a personal trainer to a bunch of rich housewives, a nice, respectable position that is much more suitable for a decent Dutch girl.”

  James laughed. “You’re respectable, Vanessa, most of the time.”

  “Yes, but I’m only half Dutch and I haven’t got any family left to tell me otherwise. Sophie, on the other hand, has a large family in Holland that would probably disagree with you.”

  “So when do we give it up, Vanessa, and become decent and respectable?”

  She gave him a derisive glare. “When they drag me out of here, kicking and screaming. And what about you, my friend? When does it get too much for you?”

  He stared up at Mairead on the stage. “When she tells me she wants out of here.”

  “That might be a long time. Look at her, she loves it.”

  “Yes, but there is something else she wants and I’m starting to warm to the idea.”

  Vanessa’s mouth fell open and she threw her head back laughing. “Oh, James, that little girl certainly did a number on you, didn’t she? James, the family man. Who would have thought?”

  “Not me, but then I didn’t see myself as married either.”

  “Well, whatever you decide, you have my blessing. I know your heart hasn’t been in this place for a while now.”

  A thunderous round of applause and cheers announced that Mairead’s routine had come to an end. James slid to the end of the booth and got up.

  “Right, I’m off to praise my wife on her performance and see how that costume looks with a pair of glowing red cheeks.”

  “You keep your hands off my dancers, thank you,” Vanessa grinned.

  James made his way through the crowd, looking over to the island bar where Amiri and two girls were flying about serving drinks to patrons. New Year’s Eve was one of their busiest nights, and just getting through the crowd was slow going, and further held up by regulars wanting to chat with him. Somewhere close by, he could hear loud male voices still shouting, as if unaware the music had stopped.

  “Can you imagine getting that little slut in the cot? I bet she fucks like a pro.”

  “You could drive your cock into her while she doing the splits.”

  The comment ended with raucous laughter. James swung round, angrily seeking out the speakers among bodies pushed tightly together. He spotted the men and was about to push his way through to them, when a woman suddenly collided into him. He caught her before she fell and helped her to straighten up, expecting to see a drunken patron. Instead, a pair of clear, almond shaped, brown eyes looked up at him.

  “Are you alright?” James frowned.

  She stared at him in confusion and nodded. “I’m sorry. I was pushed.”

  James was struck by how young she looked and was tempted to ask for ID. Only his complete faith in his security staff stopped him. There was no hint of alcohol on her breath and she certainly didn’t seem drunk.

  “No harm done,” he smiled, just as a man came up behind her.

  “Bloody hell, Adele,” he said, gripping her arm. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

  James stiffened at the name as the girl angrily turned to the man. “Why did you push me?”

  “You tripped, you silly bitch.” He grinned up at James. “Sorry about that, mate. Women and booze, eh?”

  James glared at the man, who looked to be at least fifteen y
ears her senior. The smug look on his face showed no remorse and only enflamed James’ temper that little bit more.

  He managed to smile at the girl. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  She shot a sullen glance to the man and smiled quickly. “I am sorry. Brendan is right. I tripped. Please excuse me.”

  “You haven’t hurt yourself?” James inquired, still holding her arm.

  She shook her head. “I am not hurt.”

  “She’s tough, mate” He yanked on her arm to draw her away. “Come on, Adele.”

  James stepped closer. “You don’t need to manhandle her. If she wants to go with you, she will.”

  The girl looked at him curiously as Brendan smirked at James.

  “Oh, she wants to go with me, don’t you, Adele?”

  “Yes,” she replied blandly, but smiled at James. “Thank you.”

  James shook his head as he watched them merge back into the crowd. Turning back, he looked for the other men whose comments had stirred his wrath. They were nowhere to be seen and he was fuming as he hurried to get out of the crowd. Once he was out in the back rooms, he took a moment to breathe.

  Approaching the dressing room, James heard the sounds of laughter and excited female voices. Mairead’s was the loudest. Knocking twice, he waited only a few seconds before opening the door.

  The merriment was instantly subdued to tittering giggles, with half naked girls rushing about, pretending they were hard at work. Mairead had obviously been entertaining them, still wearing her costume, which now had money stuffed into the threads and poking out from the top of her thong. Her arms were held high and her hips were moving in a mock belly dance.

  The sight of her display fuelled his anger. “What the hell are you doing, Mairead?”

  Her arms dropped down and she turned to him, giggling. “Sorry James, I was just showing off to the girls.” Beaming with excitement, she danced her way to him. “I made a small fortune in tips tonight and I haven’t even done my sync number yet.”

  His face was hard, but he managed to keep his voice even. “I wasn’t aware that you were scheduled for a solo performance.”