The Fall From Grace

PROLOGUE

“What a lovely house!” exclaimed Grace Sinclair on the stage, scanning the audience through the corner of her eyes, in the faint hope of catching sight of her mother Stephanie.

Playing the lead role in “Goldilocks and the three bears” in her school annual day function, the ten year old girl had been hoping till the very last that her mother would make an appearance to applaud her performance. All her fervent hopes were crushed when she spotted only her father on the second row.

James could perceive his daughter’s disappointment and his heart sank for the poor child. Aware of her true potential as he had been privy to some of her rehearsals he knew that hurt and anguish caused by her mother’s indifference and not stage fear, was the cause of her insipid performance.
Just a few blocks away, the renowned advocate Stephanie Sinclair stood under the shower, relishing the feel of the warm water on her flawless skin, when she heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“What is it Ron?” she shouted, arching her neck backwards and allowing the water to glide over her face, a shower cap protecting her blonde hair.

“I want to piss!”

“Wait till I step out!” she replied, lathering her shapely breasts, enjoying the tingling sensation the act was generating.

Waiting outside the door, Special Agent Ron Howard muttered a chain of expletives, as if that would relieve the pressure on his bladder.

Pouring some more gel on to her palms, Stephanie rubbed them vigorously against each other. Spreading her legs, she liberally applied the resulting foam on her slit, hoping to wipe away all traces of her afternoon tryst. The consequent friction of this action caused her to squirm and writhe, motivating her finger to locate and rub her sweet spot with more pressure. Closing her eyes to relish the delicious sensation, she braced herself against the wall for her orgasm to subside. It was quite some time before she emerged, fully dressed in her toe length skirt and long sleeved blouse.

“Jesus! Get dressed!” she exclaimed, sighting him nude outside the door.

“Why baby?” he leered, holding his distended arousal and pointing it towards her.

She turned her face and walked away in utter disgust, hearing a hoarse cackle behind her, followed by the shutting of the bathroom door. She found her handbag where she had left it, on the bedside table. Opening it, she pulled out her blackberry and seeing messages from her secretary, called her.

“What is it Jess?” she demanded.

“It’s your husband Mrs. Sinclair. He has been looking for you all afternoon,” she blurted.

“Did he tell why?”

“He wanted you to attend your daughter’s school play, the one about which I had reminded you today morning,” Jess explained.

“Anything important?” Stephanie enquired.

“Yes. You are supposed to attend the opening of Hotel Regency today evening,” Jess reminded, detecting exasperation in her boss’ voice. Clearly, her daughter’s annual day function was not of any notable significance to her.

“Yes I remember that. And if James calls again, tell him I am in a meeting,” Stephanie advised before disconnecting.

Chapter 1

Stephanie selected a full sleeved wine colored evening gown for the evening with matching flat heeled strap on shoes. When Ron walked in wearing a cream colored tuxedo, he found her standing in front of the mirror, applying lipstick.

He whistled admiring her chiseled features and shoulder length wavy blonde hair.” If only she would not wear such an oversize gown,” he wished.

“Any idea what this Regency thing is about? The press seems to be raving nuts,” Stephanie enquired, putting on her diamond earrings.

“The department believes it to be a front for the Manzini family. Old man Burt Manzini’s mistress, some moll named Tara Shields is running the show. The grapevine is that there is discontent brewing in the family regarding the power she wields over him.” Ron answered.

Stephanie did not need to know about the Manzini family. They were suspected to be involved in various mob related businesses like trade unionism, contract killing, drug peddling and prostitution. She had been pitted several times against them as she worked for the rival gangs.

“Tell me more about this Tara,” she insisted.

“Why does she interest you so much,” Ron chuckled.

“You know I like to be in the know of things,” she interjected.

“Well, don’t have too much on her except that she has relatives in Smithsville,” he explained.

“Smithsville?” she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, your hometown. Maybe you will remember her when you meet,” he suggested.

“I am surprised that he invited me,” Stephanie wondered.

“The old man loves to show off,” he chuckled.

Driving to the Regency in her black Mercedes, Stephanie found the place swarming with celebrities, media, politicians, corporate honchos and the who’s who of local police and civic administration. Irrespective of Manzini’s reputation, everyone sure wanted to be on his right side.

Stephanie marveled the swanky new architectural masterpiece the old man had conjured in record time. Centrally located, he had paid a fortune to acquire that piece of land. Many suspected that Burt Manzini had finally met his Waterloo by biting off much more than he could chew. But she knew that the old man’s business acumen would not be wrong. Sure enough, the imposing white building he had created would certainly give all existing hotels in the city a run for their money.

“Hi Stephanie, my darling. I am so glad you could make it. Where is your drink, dear,” it was Burt himself beaming broadly as he walked up to her, greeting her with kisses.

Stephanie’s keen eyes were riveted on the lovely brunette on Burt’s arms, wearing a décolleté black gown that complemented well with her alabaster skin. Her dark hair looked alluring, hanging over her bare shoulders. Her aristocratic bearing and stunning features, granted her an aura of immense grace and dignity. “The old man has good taste,” Stephanie thought.

“Meet Tara Shields, the President of Regency Hotel. Tara, this is the famous lawyer Stephanie Sinclair. Beware of her. She has caused us many a fall,” he guffawed loudly.

The two women exchanged kisses.

“And if you two ladies will excuse me. Don’t forget to get your drink Stephanie,” Burt said, signaling to a waiter to come to the ladies, before walking up to greet the mayor who had just walked in.

“Burt says that but for you, he would have wiped out all his competitors long ago,” Tara smiled, accepting a glass of champagne from the waiter.

“Oh, I am sure he is only being chivalrous,” Stephanie blushed, selecting vodka.

“I am sure he means that too,” Tara giggled.

Stephanie was only half listening. Something about Tara’s regal comportment intrigued her and she unsuccessfully racked her brains for an answer, when a scene in front interrupted her chain of thoughts. She saw her husband James in an animated discussion with Ron. Excusing herself, she walked up to them.

“Criticize us and the public laps it up,” Ron alleged.

“I have proof that the department is hand in glove with the criminals,” James responded.

“Hi Stephanie. Long time,” Ron smirked.

“Asshole,” Stephanie muttered silently, hoping James would not detect the sarcasm in his voice, before saying, “What are you two arguing about?”

“Oh forget it,” Ron shook his head.

“Anyway, you look lovely dear. James is lucky,” he winked, making her wince.

“You really don’t stop, do you,” she retorted.

Ron chuckled and walked away.

“You know that corrupt jerk?” James enquired.

“I am a lawyer, remember. He is a policeman. We do meet at times,” she smiled weakly.

He didn’t look convinced, making her uncomfortable.

“Why didn’t you come to Grace’s school today?” he demanded after a pause.

“I am sorry dear. But something just came up suddenly, and I had to attend to it,” she tried.

“Are you sure?” he insisted.

“What do you mean?” she arched her eyebrows.

Not replying, he stared at her dress, making her fidget. She cursed herself for missing the fact that her reporter husband would be invited too, wishing she had not worn a dress he had never seen before. Fortunately for her, some acquaintances of his appeared, giving her a chance to evade his penetrating gaze.

Wishing to avoid any further embarrassment, Stephanie decided to return home. Maybe if James would see her there with Grace, he would not suspect anything. “Ron is such a jerk,” she cursed under her breath, waiting for the valet to bring her car.

It was only after she had driven out of the gates of the Regency that she spotted the hooded man sitting in the back, pointing a revolver at her.

Chapter 2

Sliding the electronic key into the slot, Burt Manzini opened the door of the President Suite of the Regency and sauntered in. Though he owned the place, he paused for a moment to marvel the grandeur of his own creation. The deep brown color of the exquisite furniture, handcrafted to order from the finest species of Indonesian mahogany, contrasted tastefully with the polished Italian marble flooring. A splendorous chandelier made by the finest artists of Rajasthan in India decorated the roof, rare French tapestries adorned the walls and exotic Persian rugs enhanced the beauty of the ornate floor.

But the splendor and opulence of the room paled into oblivion against the enchanting vision before him. His eyes glowed on seeing Tara Shields on the sofa, painting her toe nails, clutching only a towel against her breasts, her lustrous hair scattered over her back and shoulders.

“You are late,” she observed, without raising her head.

“Yeah, my wife was insisting that I accompany her. Women you know,” he sighed.

Sitting down next to her, he feasted upon the smooth skin of her bare back and arms with his eyes. He could never fathom why, but she held some mystic power over him, which always overwhelmed him in her presence. Her intelligence, reserved nature, enigmatic smile and melancholic beauty not only distinguished her from his previous mistresses, but also both challenged and stimulated his brute masculinity. Gingerly he lay a hand on her smooth back, and started rubbing gently, feeling his arousal rise.

“Wait for me. I won’t be long,” she said.

Obeying her, he walked inside to the bedroom, stripped himself and lay under the blanket. True to her words, Tara followed soon, not caring to drape the towel; instead her black hair partially shielded her rounded jewels which swayed gently as she walked. The sight of the bald and fat lips between her legs, guarding the entrance to her pleasures, inebriated his mind and intensified his libido.

Relief came his way, when she removed the blanket, spread his legs and knelt down between them. Grasping his engorged manhood, she stroked it tenderly, before lowering her mouth to it. A few skilled flicks of her tongue considerably enhanced its length, girth and hardness. Opening her mouth she gobbled the piece of meat, subjecting it to delicious sucks and licks.

She knew exactly when to bring him back from the edge so that he stayed hard for an eternity. Finally, the old man could not hold himself back any longer. He forced her onto her back and getting between her legs, placed his hardness at her gate. He started pushing, entering easily helped by her arousal. The two lovers thrashed and lashed their groins against each other, achieving a soothing climax.

Basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Tara lay on top of Burt, his arms around her, his hands caressing her back.

“Are you sure darling?” Burt asked.

“Yes. I have waited for this day for 12 years,” she responded.

“Where is she?” he queried.

In response she switched on the TV with a remote. Burt saw a brightly illuminated, large room with white walls. Burt realized that it was the Special room in the Regency which Tara had had the architects design to play out her vengeful plot. A large cot lay in the middle of the room. She pressed the remote to zoom on to the scared face of Stephanie Sinclair, her blonde hair disheveled and her swollen eyes indicating that she had been weeping. Her hands were trussed behind her back. She still looked classy, haughty and beautiful.She was still wearing the same ill fitting evening gown.

After Burt had slept off, Tara walked to the study desk in the living room. Removing a folder from the drawer, she opened it. Some news paper cuttings were filed inside. Collected over the last twelve years she had read each one of them every single day almost memorizing them by heart, the articles evoking the same intense passions in her every time. Tonight was no different as she browsed the headlines.

“Advocate Stephanie scores again: Wins case for builder, Old age home residents evicted”

“Successful lawyer Stephanie saves Tasty Snacks Company: Proves that children died not because of consuming adulterated chocolates manufactured by the company, but because of careless preservation by retailers.”

“Stephanie to the rescue of Victoria Hospital: Dead patient’s relatives get no compensation, only warning from the court.”

They went on and on, till she reached the article which interested her most

“Stephanie protects alleged rapist: Establishes that rape victim was a woman of loose morals”. Below this article Tara stared hard at her photo taken 12 years ago, when she was being led away to prison on false charges of solicitation.

Tara shut the folder, tears streaming down her eyes. Tomorrow her revenge would begin.

Chapter 3

Next morning Stephanie woke up to find a DVD next to her on the bed with a note saying “Play it.” Eager to see some ransom instructions she inserted the DVD into the player. She almost threw up at the image that came up on the screen. She saw herself on her knees, giving Ron Howard a blow job.
She fast forwarded the scene which only brought to focus more graphic images of her passionate encounters with the treacherous officer, zooming onto his hardness moving in and out of her love canal, as her face writhed with pleasure.

“Bastard!” she cried, realizing that Ron had recorded their trysts and sold the tape to the Manzinis.

“Fucks well! Doesn’t he?” a woman’s voice announced in the room.

Stephanie’s shock had numbed her senses such that she didn’t even realize when someone had entered the room. She turned her head to discover that the voice belonged to the lovely Tara Shields, carrying a folder in her hand.

“What do you want?” Stephanie screamed, regaining her senses.

“Revenge,” she replied in a ‘matter-of-fact’ voice.

“What?”

“Remember this?” Tara had opened the folder to show her the photo of the police taking her away twelve years ago.

Suddenly the memories came back to Stephanie, unraveling the riddle of Tara Shields’ familiar face.

“You bitch! I will make you pay for this!” Stephanie threatened.

“Maybe you will. But not before I am done with you,” Tara snapped, her voice icy cool. She pressed the buttons of a remote in her hand, and suddenly a side wall of the room parted, revealing a giant TV screen, with six smaller screens on one side and a seventh screen on the other side.

“Let’s play a game Ms. Sinclair,” Tara sneered.

She paused for awhile before continuing, as Stephanie listened in a daze.

“I have invited some friends of yours to a strip show. On the small screens you can see who they are,” she said, pressing buttons on her remote, lighting up each screen one by one, with still images of familiar faces. The only commonality between them being the extreme hatred and malice they all bore towards Stephanie Sinclair.

“A strip show! What have I got to do with that?” Stephanie asked with dismay.

“Why honey! You are the star draw! All those men can’t wait for the show to begin!” Tara derided, waving at the screens.

“You really think I will strip for those lechers!” Stephanie exclaimed with utter disbelief.

“Yes honey,” Tara replied, grinning lasciviously. “I am sure you won’t deprive your friends the pleasure of enjoying your treasures,” she laughed, moving towards her and grabbing her large tits.

“Don’t touch me!” Stephanie recoiled in horror.

“I have had enough tantrums from you, bitch. This is not your fucking courtroom and those men are not some sissy jury. Listen now carefully. My men will come soon and show you some dresses. Select a dress and be ready. I will be communicating with you through the seventh screen. I will be hearing and seeing you all the time and every time I type a message you will hear a pop sound,” Tara pronounced, before stomping out.

Immediately some men appeared with an ensemble of dresses. Stephanie saw a slinky thigh length white dress with a plunging neckline, a two piece bikini, a tennis court dress, a spaghetti top with a mini skirt and some others. Designed to provocatively expose the wearer’s body, all of them carried a tag with some numbers. Evaluating them with horror, she realized how well her captor knew about her discomfort with revealing clothes. She had always been fond of dressing conservatively, and no way could she bring herself around to wearing those skimpy outfits.

“Go away,” she shooed the men away. They withdrew as silently as they had appeared.

Instantaneously the seventh screen sputtered to life, with the message.

“All the men you see on the smaller screens are guests of the hotel and I have awarded them credits to bid for what they want to see on the TV screen in their rooms. The bids of all the players will be combined and only that show which has the majority bid will be played. What you see on the master screen is what they will see in their rooms. The men have two choices to bid for. They can either bid to watch the DVD of your sex tape or they can bid to watch you live. It depends on how interesting you can make it for them. If you strip, they might want to watch you. If you just sit quiet, they will choose to watch your tape.”

This message was followed by the master screen coming to life, showing two options.
1. Watch Stephanie Sinclair live
2. Watch her cheat and fuck.

Immediately she saw herself on the master screen. It meant that the majority of the bids were to see her live, which was reflected at the bottom of the seventh screen, which read

Option 1: 1000 credits
Option 2: 200 credits

At the same time the message came up on the screen, accompanied with a pop sound.

“You can see what the men are doing, while they see you.”

Suddenly the master screen image changed and she saw herself kneeling before Ron pulling down his zip. In horror her eyes shifted to the seventh screen where the bids showed as 1000 for Option 1 and 1300 for Option 2. The message above read

“You have to make the live show more interesting if you do not want them to see this tape.”

“But how do I change the option?” she cried.

“You had a choice. I sent you the dresses. The numbers on the tags of those dresses were the credit those dresses carried. Moment you wear that dress, your account gets credited and you can bid for an option of your choice.”

The scene on the master screen moved on. She had now removed his hardness and was sliding her tongue along its length. She closed her eyes in dismay, collapsing on the bed.

“Ahhhh….” a vulgar moan filled the room, drawing her attention to the side screen number 2 where Maurice Washington, a black cop whose career she had destroyed by bringing a harassment suit against him on behalf of a drug dealer he had booked. Not only did she get the criminal off the hook, she got Maurice a suspension order for irresponsible behavior. She realized that when she fell on the bed, her hips had activated screen number 2 with the remote lying there. She saw Maurice playing with his thick cock, filling her with revulsion, knowing that he was seeing her suck Ron.

“Please give me one more chance!” she begged.

The door opened and the men again walked in carrying the dresses. She carefully looked at all the tags now. At least 2000 credits were needed to beat option 2 and only the slinky white dress carried that value. She had to move fast. Ron would ejaculate any moment now on her face and she didn’t want the men to see that.

The men went away dropping a black sling back stiletto heel shoes behind them. She removed the evening gown she had still been wearing, safe in the knowledge that the men were not able to see her change, forgetting momentarily that they were seeing her perform on her lover’s rigid shaft.

Tara snickered, noticing her old fashioned cotton bra, her large breasts completely enclosed in the cups with no spillage out of the sides or front. Her dowdy cotton panties covered her entire broad bums. A naughty plan formed in her mind and she typed on her computer.

“I will grant you 1000 credits for removing that bra.”

The pop sound drew Stephanie’s attention. Only then she remembered that Tara was watching her, causing her shame and embarrassment. Instinctively she covered her bra with her hands, but the hysterical expression on Ron’s face told her how close he was to the edge.

She quickly complied, reasoning that only a woman was seeing her. When she removed her bra, the pop sound came again.

“2000 credits for the panty,” read the new message.

Tears moaned down her cheeks as she realized she would need all the credits if she wanted to stand any chance of holding back her sexual escapades from the six lusty pairs of eyes. Motivated by her gusty sucking, the bids for the sex DVD were beyond 4000 credits. With a gauche action she pulled down her panties, sticking her legs together and thrust her head into the slinky dress, sliding it over her ample bosom, battling against time to cover her nudity and prevent the traitorous Ron from climaxing.

She stretched the elastic fabric to cover herself as much as possible, but the sheer skimpiness of that outfit precluded that possibility. If she raised it to cover her breasts completely, she would expose her womanhood. If she lowered it to cover more of her thighs, her breasts would be naked. Strapless and cut exactly to size, the short costume just about concealed her nether lips. She somehow managed to thrust her nipples inside, but a large portion of her healthy tits still spilled out.

Immediately she selected option 1 on her remote. The image on the master screen didn’t change.

“What’s wrong!” she panicked.

“You have to wear the shoes to complete the costume.”

Sitting on the bed, Stephanie slipped on the shoes and pressed the button again, just as Ron removed his cock from her mouth and let out an animal moan.

The screen changed. She had just about saved herself this time. The bids were now 5000 for the live show and 4000 for the DVD.


Chapter 4

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” shrieked Maurice, holding his cock, frustrated at not being able to see Ron cum on her beautiful face.

“Wow!” he immediately exclaimed when he saw Stephanie in her sexy dress.

She could feel six pairs of hungry eyes devour her voluptuous curves, restrained by the flimsy material of her sexy costume. Deeply embarrassed, she wished the earth would part and swallow her when she saw Maurice whip his cock at the sight of the strapless dress hanging from her large, but shapely breasts, showing considerable cleavage and just about reaching her thighs, completely exposing her perfectly proportioned legs.

“What a sexy whore,” she heard Maurice’s voice. She looked at his monstrous cock on the screen, as he continued to frig it, a beatific expression on his face.

“She is fucking hot,” he moaned. Never having seen a black cock before, Stephanie looked on in amazement at the biological miracle.
Unable to bear the sight, she pressed the remote for Ramesh Desai, a steel tycoon of Indian origin whose business she had all but closed by winning a huge false claim for his Nigerian client.

“Come on bitch! Walk and show me your fine ass and tits,” he said with immense hatred in his voice. She was not into sadomasochism, but knew she had to obey. With a sigh she got up and strutted about on her stiletto heels, feeling like some cheap whore. The animal lust in Ramesh’s eyes made her feel totally naked and she could not control her emotions when tears of regret flowed down her eyes.

She turned her face towards the seventh screen, seeing that the bids were strongly in favor of option 1 still. The men were surely getting turned on by her slinky dress and her instinct told her that her tears, humiliation and embarrassment were only adding to their pleasure. She cringed when Ramesh pulled out his manhood and started masturbating.

From the corner of her eyes she kept an eye on the seventh screen. To her great shock she saw that the bids for the sex tape were 7800 credits and for her live show 8000 credits.

“Damn the bastards!” she swore, not realizing that it was not their fault. They were all bidding heavily to see her in this dress. But Tara had just put in a huge bid for the sex tape.

Stephanie realized that if she didn’t act fast the sex tape would again start playing. She needed more bids in her favor, and with deep shame she grabbed her breasts over her dress and started squeezing. She noted with comfort that her slutty action drew in bids from the men as credits for the live show touched 10000 credits.

“There you go, you whore. This is what I wanted you to do,” Tara observed with deep contentment, from the secluded comfort of her personal suite in the Regency.”

“Bitch! Prostitute!” Ramesh screamed, stroking himself with extreme urgency. Like Maurice before him, it was her first vision of an Indian cock. Fat and smooth, it spellbound her, as she gazed at his expression of pure lust.

Suddenly she felt something sticky between her legs.

“It must be the heat,” she reasoned, ignoring the cold gust of wind blowing from the air-conditioner against her exposed body, making her feel vulnerable and cold.

In self denial mode, she switched to Ralph Menezes, ex-editor of the City Times, whose career she had caused irreparable damage. Ralph had started a high visibility campaign against one of Stephanie’s clients for bending pollution norms. Unfortunately for him Stephanie won a defamation suit for her client. Ralph’s newspaper not only had to apologize, but also pay a substantial compensation.

“What a babe!” groaned the normally composed Ralph, rubbing his hardness over his pants, making her feel like a slut.

“She beats any porn star hollow with those natural beauties!” Ralph had now pulled out his rigid rod, making her shrink with shame.

“Show me that ass baby!” he begged.

Looking at the score she knew she had to comply. Thanks to Tara’s bids, the credits for the DVD were 9900, only 100 credits behind the live show. Bending, she supported herself over the bed and wriggled her ass. Her hips felt cold, reminding her that she was naked below her costume.

“Oh babyyyyyyyy!” Ralph let out an animal groan. Turning her head she saw thick threads of jism sputter from the head of his cock, as he closed his eyes with contentment.

At the same time her body shook involuntarily with her own orgasm. She had to sit on the bed to support herself, her naked ass and pussy touching the satin spreads. She could not repress the urge to rub herself on the bed, oblivious of the fact that she was being watched.

The strong smell of her arousal bewildered her. She felt deeply humiliated and exceedingly embarrassed, but these negative emotions formed a heady mix with the knowledge that at that very moment six capable, successful and healthy men desired and lusted for her voluptuous body. In all probability their minds were vicariously making abundant love to her curves and holes. The very thought that a renowned advocate like her was being forced to behave like a slut, and in the process was getting excited, tore her heart. For the umpteenth time that day she commenced howling inconsolably.

Chapter 5

Sitting in the air-conditioned comfort of her plush suite of the Regency Hotel, Tara Shields watched with bated breath the expressions on the faces of the men with whom she shared her bitter hatred for Stephanie Sinclair.

She had plotted and schemed for twelve long years for this day. The jury had wrongly indicted her, accepting Stephanie’s description of her as a girl of loose morals, influencing the judge to pass a sentence relegating her to a remand home. The tortuous years passed amongst whores, drug addicts and common criminals deeply battered her body and bruised her soul. But they could not destroy her spirit.

She did not allow the period of her prison sentence to go waste, spending every living moment hating Stephanie Sinclair. When she emerged after serving her sentence, she actually adopted the profession for which she had been falsely indicted, seeing that as the only route to amass power and wealth so that one day she would wreak her terrible revenge on the despicable Stephanie. She became a high society call girl, hopping from bed to bed, using her sexuality and charms to control and use men, till she finally reached the arms of the powerful Burt Manzini.

Burt had an exceptional eye for talent. He had to have her only once to realize that the beautiful, sexy, confident and intelligent Tara would make him the perfect mistress. Drawn to his charisma and power, Tara utilized every opportunity to endear herself to him, seeing in him the perfect bait to ensnare her enemy. She quickly earned his confidence and became the President of the Regency Hotel. Under his protection, acquaintances quickly developed amnesia for her sordid history. Nearly everyone forgot, except Tara herself.

“The bitch will now know what it is when an innocent girl is branded a whore,” Tara surmised, seeing her rub her privates on the bed.

Hoping that the suave Patrick Graham would be much more civil, Stephanie selected him. The handsome features of the successful model lit up the screen. Patrick had caught his wife in bed with her driver. The smart Mrs. Graham nominated Stephanie as her lawyer. Patrick had watched in horror how the wily lawyer had convinced the gullible jury about his fictitious indiscretions. Not only did Patrick lose the case, the end result was that his wife divorced him and he had to pay her a huge alimony every month. Worst of all, he also lost custody of his only daughter.

“I wish the bitch would run her hands through her hair,” Patrick whispered.

Taking the cue, Stephanie stood on her stilettos and removing her hair pin, shook her head provocatively, letting her golden tresses scatter. Patrick rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“She is beautiful,” he commented, intense desire reflecting in his eyes.

“I wish I could bury myself into her,” he licked his lips.

Tara put in a huge bid for the sex tape. Reading the score of 11000 credits for the live show and 10800 credits for the DVD, Stephanie knew that any moment the master screen would show her copulating with Ron like an animal. Suddenly she got a fresh idea when Patrick pleaded. “Show me those knockers babe!”

She closed her eyes and pulled down her dress, unraveling her awesome breasts. Those jewels made all the men go mad with lust and they bid like crazy, taking the score of the live show to 13000 credits. The score for the DVD was still 10800.

“Oh fuck man!!” Patrick groaned, pulling out his cock before saying, “I want to rub this in that valley, bitch!”

This insulting remark rubbed further salt into her wounds. She felt miserable, offended and cold. Tara had purposely kept the temperature in the room low to increase her vulnerability and shatter her resistance. Her bare tits longing for protection and warmth received neither and her red nipples perked up in response to the chilly air curling around her creamy mounds.

Patrick looked at the tempting sight, like cherries on a mountain of cream. Her beautiful face, blonde hair and tempting round jewels, incited his desire and passion. He rubbed his cock with frenzy, pausing only when it discharged thick globs of his seed.

With a deep sigh, Stephanie looked for solace in age, opting for the seventy year old politician Samuel Capri.

“Why is my doll crying?” Samuel comforted, making her comfortable for the first time that day.

“Does dolly want a fuck,” he jeered, his face immediately switching to a mask of lust and hatred, scaring her with the intensity of his emotions.

“Come to papa you bitch. Let papa show you his tool,” he asked, his voice full of lust.

The seventy year old Samuel had had a most distinguished record of public service , having held several senior positions in the government. He had taken up cudgels against organized crime and was working hard to break the nexus between the police department and the mafia. An influential family roped in the services of Stephanie who successfully proved bribery allegations against the honest politician, destroying his career.

Stephanie watched in dismay as the old man flopped out his tool. It looked surprisingly smooth and healthy for his age, not realizing that the sight of his beautiful enemy’s hanging beauties had made the old man much harder than he had ever been in a decade.

“Come on baby, give me your pussy,” he lusted.

Taking the cue Tara again increased the bid for the sex tape. The score read 12800 for the DVD and 13000 for the live show. Stephanie knew she had to act immediately.

She remembered a porn movie Ron had forced her to watch and like the actress in that movie she sat on the bed and folded her legs at the knees, her stiletto heels resting on the bed. The hem of the short dress rode up, exposing completely her bald pussy. The bids came back in her favor but to her extreme embarrassment she realized that the sight of the old man playing with his cock at the sight of her pussy had only served to enhance her pleasure. The dampness between her legs now felt like a leaking tap, and with sheer helplessness she noticed on the master screen drops of her love juices glitter prominently on her labia.

“My, my, my, the whore is excited. Do you want to fuck baby. Papa will shove his hard rod into your greedy cunt, you bitch,” glared Samuel.
The viciousness in the voice and the animal lust in those eyes, made her shiver. A cold wave of sweat broke out over her body, and again to her immense discomfiture, she could feel the arousal between her legs. The filth being heaped upon her by her aged foe served to stimulate her excitement, and she had to muster all her mental strength to suppress the intense urge to rub her pussy. Momentarily she closed her eyes, continuing to hear the old man’s diatribe and going against all norms of modesty, visualized his thick cock penetrating her pussy. She felt her head go crazy. She tried to remind herself that she was a renowned lawyer, not some cheap slut. She was forced to open her eyes when Samuel moaned like wounded animal. Wide eyed she saw him close his eyes, and reach his climax, shocked that even at this age his penis could still release such copious quantities of semen.

“Oh yesssssssss! That was good. If only I could cum in the bitch’s juicy cunt!” the old man screamed.

To her immense disappointment, Stephanie watched his hardness lose its strength. She had all but forgotten who she was. It didn’t matter now. She was a whore! A cheap whore whose duty it was to service those six hungry men! With that in mind, she switched on to the last screen.

Chapter 6

James Sinclair sat across the oak table in Burt Manzini’s plush office admiring the painting of an African woman suckling her baby, which hung on the opposite wall. Across him, he could see the white head of Burt himself, his shoulders drooping, absorbed in a folder that lay before him. James waited patiently for Burt to digest the contents of the folder. It represented the result of his long years of labor, and he knew that it, and only it, could retrieve his beautiful wife from the deadly clutches of the underworld.

Burt took his time reading the folder page to page, before raising his head.

“What can I do for you Sinclair?” he asked.

“I want my wife back,” he replied wistfully.

“You really love her, don’t you? After all that she has done. Have you seen the tape?” Burt doubted.

“She is the mother of my child. I have the responsibility of bringing her mother back to her,” he declared.

Burt tried once more. “Do you know that Ron was f…”.

He could not complete the sentence as James interrupted him midway. “I know exactly what was going on between Ron and my wife,” he interrupted

“And you still want to save her, risking my wrath,” the gangster threatened.

“I don’t care for you Burt. Go ahead. Kill me. I am sure you understand this is not the only copy of this folder,” the journalist countered back.

“And what if I say that your wife is not with me,” the old man arched his eyebrows.

“I would know that you are lying. Do not try games with me Burt. You trust a jerk like Ron! You think that if he betrays a woman who loves him in the manner that he has, just think what all I could have extracted from him, by showing a similar folder?” James claimed.

“The bastard,” Burt swore. He reached for the phone.

Meanwhile Stephanie looked on in astonishment at the sixth screen. It was not a sixth man. The image of Tara Shields came to life.

“How are you Stephanie? How do you feel?” she asked.

“I am a whore! A cheap slut!” Stephanie choked, trying hard to suppress her tears. Shamed and embarrassed by her severe humiliation, her resistance had completely shattered. Her astute mind famed for its sagacity, could only think of herself as an object of lust and desire.

“Can you see the bids, Stephanie?” Tara reminded.

She saw that the sex tape was rapidly gaining favor. Surprisingly she felt calm and confident. Staying on bed, she removed her slinky dress and cast it aside, exposing the smooth and white skin of her belly to hungry eyes.

The bids in the favor of the sex tape were temporarily halted. Encouraged, she placed both her palms on her soft boobs, and squeezed gently at first, before pressing wildly.

Tara knew that her job was done. The bitch would now play on her own. She withdrew herself and placed a command for auto change which meant that the screen would focus momentarily on each man, showing what he was doing, before going on to the next.

Maurice was on the scene again. Stephanie could see that his cock looked wet, meaning that he had already cum, maybe several times. But it was still engorged, and in response she moved one hand from her breast and placed it on her pussy. Her finger rubbed across the slit, before slipping inside easily. Maurice stroked his hardness with urgency as Stephanie moaned.

Detecting her love bud, her finger rubbed it gently, twisting around it, as the fingers of her other hand, tweaked her nipple. Tara observed with pleasure the men going mad bidding for the live show. Making a quick calculation, she realized that she would not be able to get the tape played ever again. The sexy lawyer had won this battle also proving herself to be better than even the most acclaimed porn star.

Stephanie had closed her eyes to enjoy the pleasure waves engulfing her, when she heard Ramesh Desai moan. She opened her eyes, just in time to see the brown rod release its creamy contents. Her mind was now on overdrive, and she wanted to experiment newer positions to entertain her audience. She got on her fours, and lowering her stomach, spread her legs to give her enemies a clear view of her adorable pussy and lovely ass. Turning her head, she saw Ralph cum.

Her libido had now reached dangerous levels. Remaining on her fours, her hand moved back, stroking alternately her pussy and her puckered hole. She had no idea that such pleasures remained hidden in her buttock, and she plunged her finger inside her ass, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation.
After an eternity of playing with her body, after all the men had cum innumerable times, she finally lay back on bed. Now she would pleasure herself only for her own sake. Handsomely rewarding her stupendous performance, the men had already bid in their entire credits for her live performance. She had nothing left to achieve now. She only had to pleasure herself.

The phone in Tara’s room rang. Picking it up, she listened intently to her lover. She did not argue. Her task was complete at least for the moment.

James Sinclair opened the door to the room where his wife was held captive. Walking to the bed in the centre, he was mesmerized with her lovely naked body writhing on top. He looked around, but did not find anything. The screens had all disappeared. He would never know that his wife’s bitter enemies had seen her perform like a porn star.

Her eyes were closed, her hands between her legs. He was completely bewildered, unable to fathom the cause of her wanton display, as she indulged in the most primal of all acts. She looked so angelic, so beautiful, he did not have the heart to interrupt her.

Finally Stephanie climaxed with an explosive roar, achieving the last of her several orgasms that day. When she opened her eyes, she saw her husband stand before her. Her orgasm had temporarily quelled all her desires.

Her gifted mind, working normally now, clearly remembered what all had passed making her feel embarrassed and hurt. She got down from the bed and put on her clothes, the old fashioned bra, the cotton panty and the loose fitting gown.

Finally she turned to face her husband. Looking at him she realized that he knew everything about her and Ron.

“James, can you forgive me?”

“Honey, let us make a new beginning,” he consoled.

“Take me home,” she pleaded.

“I owe an apology to Grace,” she said to herself.

Tara watched the proceedings with consternation. The bitch’s husband still loves her, she thought angrily. This would not do. She had to be completely destroyed. Her mind started plotting the next round. This time she would have to ensure her enemy’s comprehensive fall from grace.

Word Count ; 7284