Submission

SUBMISSION

Chapter Three  ‘The Whale’

       

Watching the monitors, especially of the veranda, the foyer, the great room, he sits back with a sense of pride mixed with a pinch of amusement.  Virtually every expected major client having arrived, he realizes the holiday weekend’s guaranteed to be an overwhelming success.

       Focusing on the great hall with the center screen, his prize acquisition posing as instructed on a raised oval platform, he watches his assistant Melinda elegantly dressed and positioned next to the dais while it ever so slowly rotates in its clockwise setting.  Jodi the center of attention, naked from head to toe, her tan body radiates sexuality, a youthful, vigorous sample of what he’ll be offering in his next series of sadomasochistic videos.

       Being displayed with her waist at eye level, the red satin and chrome pillared rope barricade  positioned an even yard out from the podium completely encircling it, she’s close enough to experience the scent of her sexuality, yet not in hand’s reach.  Slowly rotating at the moment with her backside exposed to the camera mounted on the front wall, standing erect at strict attention, feet together with palms flat against her outer thighs, shoulders thrust back, her barely damp hair teasingly flips across her shoulders, the disheveled strands brushing across the upper curves of her pendulous breasts as the slowly oscillating concealed fan in the ceiling centers down across her.

       Thinking how she’s magnificent in her nudeness, the rare breed that actually looks better out of clothes instead of in them, he finds himself focusing more toward the image of her naked front side slowly turning toward the camera then continuing to observe the mesmerized crowd.  Those breasts bordering on overly large as they come into full view, more then abundant for her long legged, athletic frame, the nipples high, perfectly centered and standing apart, she couldn’t have been more perfectly sculptured for the fetish industry.

       Checking, sure the monitors are being taped, he steps toward the mirror, double checks his appearance.  Flicking off the lights, locking the door behind him, a few steps down the hall and he descends the circular staircase.  The imposing foyer, oversized shimmering black and white tile square flooring beneath the crystal chandelier, gold inlaid archways with renaissance artwork becoming the grandeur of the estate, stepping toward the great room, tugging on his cufflinks, his tux impeccable, he makes his presence.

       Glancing around, the couple dozen or so specially invited guests mingling toward the podium, he hesitates while again struck with his protégé’s appearance.  Even more incredible live then the view on the monitor made possible, every curve, every nuance of her naked form either glistening or quietly shaded from an overhead illumination of the strategic lighting; he again scans the audience, especially searching for the real movers and shakers of his clientele.

       ‘Thomas…’

       Glancing back, the voice instantly as recognizable as unforgettable, he’s more then mildly surprised and even more pleased to see the ‘whale’ of his clients for just the third time in the past half decade or so.  A person of unimaginable means with an equally undeniable quench for the erotic, his appearance can mean only one thing, the desirability of his new girl.

       ‘Sir Henry….’

       ‘Yes Thomas.  You’ve tweaked my interest with the outtakes you sent me of your young morsel, I had to visit, see her in the flesh before you proceeded with sharing her with these.  Well, what can I say?  These, these…..’

       Approaching closer to him as the man’s cane waves between them, thinking to himself how his title befits his appearance, more closely the true overly pudgy appearance of Henry the Eighth, not the recent mini series romanticized effort of a cable network, he reaches out, shakes the thick, ring laden hand of the rounder then tall man from the other side of the ‘pond’.  ‘Yes, I’m somewhat surprised, pleasantly that is, to see you honor me with your presence.’

       ‘Come now.’  He smirks as he taps the tip of his opulent cane across the floor.  ‘You’re happy as hell to see me because you know you’re very likely to be relieving me of a good chunk of my wealth.  Admit it, Thomas; you can’t wait to turn my English pounds into American dollars.

       Watching his eyes focusing on the podium, toward Jodi’s full frontal view, again her body’s taking on an even more enticing appearance, one of pure gold bullion, the only thing Sir Henry really barters with when ‘collecting’ what he craves, not pounds or dollars that can be traced.

       ‘Let’s step closer Thomas.’  Sir Henry states more then asks as he waves the cane to and fro.  ‘And ask these… These, well ask them to step aside momentarily.’

       ‘Certainly.’

       Taking the lead, nodding toward Melinda with a short, crisp wave of a hand, and he hesitates as she requests the others to step back a few steps.

       ‘Out of the room, all of them.  Please, Thomas.’

       Amusing Sir Henry’s next request, nodding toward Melinda once again, knowing his demeanor and insistence, likewise knowing his financial means and willingness to depart with considerable amounts of the same, he ignores the muffling undertones as the rest of the group’s hoarded toward the hall.

       ‘The door Thomas.  I’d appreciate our privacy, just the three of us.  Please close it.’

       ‘Certainly.’

       A final nod, Melinda closing the sliding double doors, the room echoes with the result.

       ‘Good… Good Thomas, now let’s get a closer look, shall we?’

       Stepping close to the rope, Jodi’s left side having rotated to the center of attention as her breasts jaunt outward as does her buttocks, her fresh scents’ undeniable as her naked body glistens.

       ‘Stop!  I mean could you stop this contraption?  Have her facing us, Thomas?’

One hand flexing the rope as his other rests the cane against a post, his anxiousness is obvious as his eyes remain on the naked girl.

       ‘Sure.’

A flick of a button  aside the top of the main pillar, the podium turning a little quicker, her body slightly jerking as she momentarily struggles to maintain her balance, another flick of the switch and she stands facing the front of the room, again collecting herself to stand at attention on the now stationary platform.

‘Yes Thomas.  Yes, very nice.  She’s even better in the flesh, isn’t she?  Thank you.’

Lifting a hook, allowing the rope’s chromed end to drop and sway just above the floor, Sir Henry gives a bit of a shrug as he steps closer, reaches out and allows a fingertip to rest just above her hollowing navel.  Her stomach quivering as her eyes squint before staring straight ahead, her lips remain slightly parted beneath her pert nose.

‘Young.  So young Thomas, and so firm.’  Finally taking his eyes away, briefly, then just as quickly glancing back, his voice drops a notch as his hand rises to just below a thrust out breast.  ‘May I?  May I Thomas?’  Not awaiting an answer, cupping thumb and fingers, gently pressing inward while lifting upwards across her breastbone, his fingers meld into her titflesh, hoisting, suspending the firm mound as her nipple visibly jiggles to a standstill.  Cupping her other breast likewise, a calculated twist, rotation of his hands in opposite directions, he glances from one puffing nipple to the other as they bulge outwards with his gentle squeezes.

‘Exquisite.  I wouldn’t believe her breasts true naturalness if I wasn’t examining, touching them.  So soft, yet almost defiantly firm, along with the girth and fullness, a perplexing example of maturity and youthfulness so few females are fortunate enough to acquire naturally at any point in their years.’  He mutters, as much to himself as anyone else.

Understanding where his observations are coming from, knowing him from their previous negotiations, he doubts she has the slightest inkling of his true meaning, the fact her breasts are perfect for his darkest fantasies, not just incredibly exotic but perfect for more sinister uses like full globular piercings, extended suspensions, the normal things that augmented breasts for obvious reasons would prohibit, not to mention the abnormal things that only someone with his mind could conjure up.   

Allowing his hands to slide lower, her breasts to lift up and away from his circling fingers, thumbs, his forefingers to glide down across the arch of her ribcage, to glide across the faint outlines of her pronounced abs, to circle the indentation of her bellybutton, her body responds correspondingly with visible quivers.

‘Sensitive too.  And so responsive to one’s touch.’  Sir Henry continues with a hint of a quiver in his tone.  ‘Someone who would be so perfect too …………..’

Watching from a couple steps back, glancing toward her face as much as her nude form, her stare affixed toward the shut doors, he realizes how well she’s taken to her brief training for one so young.  Remaining stationary except for the uncontrollable succinct tremors as his roaming hands glide even lower, finally his fingers touch the softly sloped mound of her pubic area, press between her naturally separated thighs.

‘Ohhhh!’

Her first audible utterance, low, muffled as a couple of his fingertips flitter across the soft folds of her labium, disappearing a knuckle deep into the moist slit, again her body twitches.

‘Ohhh, she says.’  He smiles knowingly toward Thomas as he mimics her.  ‘Ohhh, yes, her voice so soft, tantalizing, so sweet.  Such a match, body and soul.  I can imagine just her and me, a couple hours into a private session between just the two of us, can’t you, Thomas?’

A trio of slow, soft thrusts a couple knuckles inward before allowing his fingers to glide free of the moist flesh between her quivering thighs, he steps in a sort of waddle around the podium while still inside the swaying rope.  Both hands gliding around, beneath, above the firm twin mounds of her buttocks, forefingers outlining the taut orbs of her butt-cheeks, he again glances toward Thomas with an appreciative nod, obviously satisfied with what he’s examined.

‘I’ve seen all I need to see for now, Thomas.’  He smiles as he steps back while a fingertip teasingly trails into the crease beginning beneath the pair of matching dimples prominent in the small of her back.  ‘A tight little butt too, I would venture.’

Slipping the end of the swaying rope back into place as he steps outside it, a nod toward the door as he retrieves the cane, he steps toward the closed entrance, his rotund backside appearance rivaling a shorter Orson Wells.  ‘Let’s go have a talk, Thomas my friend, shall we?’

The double doors sliding apart, Melinda waiting in front of the others, the men step past through the mingling crowd.  Up the stairway, entering the room behind Sir Henry, the empty office is dark except for the monitors as he flicks the light switch.  The chairs on either side of the desk, Sir Henry slides back into the facing chair, lays the cane across his lap.

‘Well Thomas….’

‘She’s something, huh?’

‘She’s something I must have, you know, Thomas.  How much, let’s cut to the chase.’

‘I’ve plans for her.  At least for the……..’

‘How much, Thomas?’  Sir Henry butts in, nods toward the center monitor still displaying Jodi, the others again gathering around her while he taps the side of his cane across his knees.  ‘Name it, want a blank check?’

‘You know you’ll be the first when it’s time.’

‘I want to take her with me tonight.  Tonight, Thomas. Tonight.’

‘What about the others.  They’re all here for the same reason.’  Thomas explains.  ‘They’re here for the weekend, and that leaves the rest of the day today and all day tomorrow with access to my stable, so to speak.’

‘Well.  Give ‘em access to the rest of your stable.’

‘The heavy hitters are here mainly for her.  Just like you, Sir Henry.  That’s mostly why they’re here.’

Again both glancing toward the monitor, picking out a couple of the other more well to do clientele sprinkled about here and there who infrequently attend the annual presentation, Thomas continues.  ‘See, see what I mean?  They at least deserve a live session with her as the centerpiece, don’t you agree?

‘I see your point, to an extent Thomas.’  Sir Henry counters. 

‘Then just enjoy this evening along with the rest.’  Thomas interjects.  ‘Watch Jodi please the others tonight and we’ll discuss the business you’re interested in discussing tomorrow, late tomorrow, agreed?’

‘If you make me one promise right now, never mind tomorrow, Thomas.’  Sir Henry nods.  ‘Bring her over to my estate next weekend.  My plane, limo, everything.  No expense to you, of course.’

‘Of course, agreed.’

Back in the great room, the podium again making its revolutions, the lighting shimmering off Jodi’s naked form as she rotates ever so slowly at attention, Melinda again stands next to the ropes, interjects with the mingling clients while counting down toward the exhibition soon to be given.

End Chapter Three…………….