Audio: the doctor assists you with your orgasm

Friday, March 27, 2020 at 1:58 PM

On a visit to the doctor (me, of course) you mention that you've been having difficulty recently when trying to reach orgasm. I have just the unorthodox and frankly highly unethical methods to assist you with your problem.

This 21 minute audio is the first in a proposed series of audios for the blog, all of them, of course, very filthy, and all designed to make you come.

So relax, find some privacy, put your headphones on, take your knickers off, lay back and enjoy yourself - I very much want you to come with me xx

Leave a comment or email me if you enjoyed this, I'd love to hear from you.

Roger xx

Filthy, dirty audios - new for 2020

Thursday, March 26, 2020 at 9:45 PM

I'm thinking that I'll start this revival with something direct and intimate for you all. I have a whole bunch of filthy audios that I've recorded, many of them scenarios involving, of course, you and I. So yes, I'll start with the audios and go on from there... 😘

Roger xx

Is it really 2020 already?

Hi everyone xxx

It's been seven years since the start of the hiatus, but I'm curious if anyone's still around. Times are strange at the moment, and filthy erotica might just be the answer we're looking for!

Leave me a comment, or drop me an email at the address to the left if you prefer. Because if the audience still exists, I reckon a good few posts or a filthy orgy might just be a whole heap of fun!

I'm sure I'll hear nothing, but if I do, then I'm here. If you write to me, make it filthy 😘

Roger xx

The Dream Pills - chapter nine

Saturday, December 21, 2013 at 9:33 PM

Here we go with chapter nine of the ongoing erotic romance novel - hope you enjoy :)

nine: orgy

The gallery was set into the upper levels of the club, overlooking the dance floor. It was furnished with sofas and plush seating areas, all of them set well back from the balcony to reduce the noise of the music still pouring from the huge gramophone horns situated around the lower levels. A cocktail bar took up one corner of the gallery, the rest of the room filled with curved couches, low tables and darkened little alcoves. The space was clearly intended for relaxation and intimate conversation, but it was obvious to Sarah as she reached the top of the staircase that this intimacy was being carried a step further this evening.
    Just as the temperature in the room was rising downstairs, up here in the gallery it was becoming equally as intense. Sarah could make out at least two couples openly fucking on the sofas around the room, with others around them watching enthusiastically. In the centre of the room some kind of large, raised bench had been set up, over which a naked girl was being strapped firmly, her wrists pulled back and tied behind her, her ankles spread apart and tied to the legs of the bench. Two men were checking the straps, a third man stroking the girl's hair softly, unbuckling his trouser belt as Sarah walked by. She did her best not to look, strolling past them as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
    Sarah's lips were dry, her sex still pulsing delightfully, distracting her. She reminded herself that they had planned to leave long before the party degenerated like this, but the more she saw, the less she wanted to leave. She was still determined not to be tempted to join in, and was adamant that she had no intention of getting naked in front of all these people, but the sights and sounds around her had left her intensely turned on, and that arousal was battling against her better nature.
    As she walked past the gleaming white grand piano, she tried not to stare at the couple fucking each other over it with abandon: a girl was bent over the lid, her legs splayed wide apart, her panties cast aside on the floor, and a young man was stood right up behind her, his trousers tugged halfway down, his cock thrusting deep inside her cunt. The girl was groaning exquisitely, the sounds increasing Sarah's arousal, lowering her resistance further. She gripped onto Jones' hand, walking with him as discreetly as she could past the couple, following Claude and his girlfriend.
    Kruger saw them and waved her group over. He was sat in a softly lit corner of the gallery, draped amongst a cluster of curved sofas. Two young men accompanied him, sat on either side of him, with a third man knelt casually at his feet.
    “Sarah, there you are,” he smiled, “come and join us. Bring your catches along with you.” Kruger looked Jones up and down, sneering a little. “I see you're still stuck with the office boy. If you'd like someone else brought to you, I'd be very happy to oblige. I can bring you three or four men if you like.”
    Sarah's sex throbbed despite herself, suddenly imagining herself surrounded by men, all of them touching her, fucking her in turn, but she pushed the thought back, gripping tighter onto Jones' hand.
    “That's most generous of you, Mister Kruger, but if you don't mind I'm happy as I am for the moment.” Jones squeezed her hand softly.
    “Suit yourself,” said Kruger. “I have drugs here should you have a particular poison. Please don't feel you have to ask.”
    A variety of pills and potions were scattered across the table in front of him. Sarah had no experience at all of such artificial stimulants, and was only too aware that the Dream Pills might be amongst the collection scattered in front of her. She smiled politely and took a seat opposite Kruger's entourage, with Jones and Claude sitting either side of her. Claude's new girlfriend snuggled alongside him.
    “Perhaps later,” Sarah said, doing her best not to strike any tone of disapproval. Drugs were supposed to be her business, after all.
    “Then enjoy yourself as you will. I certainly intend to. I'm pleased to see that you decided to stay here this evening after all. I'll look forward to discussing business with you tomorrow.”
    Kruger smiled at her and slid his hand sensuously through the hair of the young man to his left. Sarah felt as though she should look away, but there was something about the delicate way Kruger's fingers moved, caressing the young man's neck and gently easing him closer, that held her gaze. The idea of watching Kruger having sex definitely held no appeal to her, but she had spent so much of her time being a voyeur tonight that watching was becoming almost second nature.
    Kruger pulled the young man closer, teasing him with his lips and kissing him tenderly, and Sarah could already feel her heart beating faster. She had wanted to view Kruger as some kind of master villain, and felt almost obliged to loathe the man, and yet his touch with the young man was so tender, the caress of his lips so sensuous. Once again Sarah could feel herself getting wet, wanting to see more.
    Not that she really had any choice in the matter – Kruger was clearly putting on a show for her, and leaving now definitely wasn't an option.
    Elsewhere in the gallery, the sexual activity around them was increasing. The girl bent over the piano was well on her way to orgasm, begging the man not to stop. A couple of other people were moving closer, wanting to watch. Sarah bit her lip, squeezing her thighs together, distinctly aware now that her panties were soaked, hoping no-one had noticed.
    A hard slap resounded around the room, followed by another, accompanied by a loud cry of pleasure and pain. Sarah glanced over to the girl strapped to the bench, one man now stroking her exposed cunt, pushing his fingers inside her, another man gripping her hair and pushing his cock into her mouth, stifling her scream.
    Sarah's hand fell to Jones' thigh, drifting along it, barely aware of what she was doing, her senses overcome, losing her control. Focussing back on Kruger opposite her, she watched breathlessly as his hand slid down the young man's body, his fingertips making their way across the man's crotch. Kruger's partner gasped with pleasure, arching up towards his fingers. From somewhere down below on the dance floor the sounds of an intense orgasm drifted up to the gallery.
    It was all becoming too much for her. Sarah was dripping wet, and an atmosphere of heated sexuality was pervading the club. She felt a brush of fingertips slide along her leg from the other side of her, noticing that Claude's hand had fallen quite deliberately against her, stroking softly. She thought about protesting, but Claude was far too busy kissing his new girlfriend to be interrupted, and she had to admit that his touch felt good.
    As she continued to watch, Kruger's trousers were slowly unbuttoned by the man knelt at his feet. He slipped his hand inside, taking hold of Kruger's cock and stroking it gently. Sarah could barely take her eyes off the scene, moving closer to Jones, her need for him all the more urgent.
    The girl on the piano started to come, moaning with intense pleasure, begging for more. Sarah tried not to look, knowing the sight would push her arousal further, but then another orgasm followed, this time from one of the darker corners of the room.
    The orgy was starting to get into full flow around her. She knew she should leave, but she was so turned on now, losing control of herself. She needed to be back at her apartment with Jones, in her bed, fucking him repeatedly, but she was quickly getting to the point where she wouldn't be able to wait that long.
    Claude was now kissing his girlfriend right next to her, his hand still sliding further up along the inside of Sarah's leg. Under any other circumstances she would have stopped him immediately, but the sensuality of the evening was overtaking her. She needed to be touched, and almost any touch would do.
    More sounds of urgent passion were drifting up to the gallery from the dance floor: the ecstatic sounds of people fucking openly in front of each other. She glanced across to the girl strapped to the bench, one man fucking her hard now, another still fucking her mouth, a third man stood the other side of her, masturbating over her face, his free hand sliding over her breasts as she tugged at the straps, helpless and incredibly turned on. Sarah felt herself being overpowered by the rhythm of the gasps and groans, her body responding to it, wanting it. The girl began to come, and Sarah couldn't tear her gaze away, watching as the man rammed his cock hard into her cunt, holding it there as her body convulsed in exquisite orgasm, tugging at the straps, clutching onto them, and she was sure from the expression on his face that the man  had just come too, deep inside her cunt.
    Ahh, damn it, Sarah thought, her clit pulsing harder, her sex dripping wet. When in Rome.
    She turned to look at Jones and leaned into him. Without hesitation, Jones lifted his hand to her face and kissed her, tasting her lips. Sarah felt herself melt against him, kissing him more passionately, no longer caring where she was or who might see her, too turned on to worry about it. She could hear more people starting to make their way upstairs into the gallery, looking for the more comfortable furniture and the darker corners of the club, but she didn't care any more. All she wanted was this kiss, this touch, this man. She could feel herself needing to surrender to him, wondering how it would feel to be tied just as that other girl was, to be used so thoroughly.
    As she leant over towards him, kissing him sensually, she could feel hands at her hips, unclipping her suspenders, and then fingertips teasing into the waist of her panties, slowly starting to pull them down. She was sure that it could only be Claude, as Jones still had his arms around her, his hand drifting through her hair as they kissed. She wondered if Jones would see, wondered if he'd mind, because she knew there was no way she was going to stop Claude. Right now she wasn't entirely sure she'd have stopped anyone.
    Sarah parted from Jones' lips breathlessly and looked across to Kruger, seeing him eagerly sucking the cock of one of his young lovers. The man knelt at his feet was doing the same to Kruger, his mouth enclosed around his hard cock, engulfing it with his lips.
    Sarah gasped softly, her hand sliding down against Jones' crotch, her fingers trembling when she noticed how hard he was. His cock was fully erect and throbbing inside his trousers. It hadn't really occurred to her that Jones would be as turned on as she was, she had barely given a thought to it, but his erection and the look on his face told her otherwise. He needed to fuck her, and just like her, he clearly no longer cared if they were seen.
    Unable to wait any longer, Sarah unbuttoned his trousers and tugged his cock out, not caring who might be watching. Jones gasped softly against her neck as she began to stroke him, his hips moving up towards her touch, his cock pulsing in her hand. His fingers slid down her body, drifting over her breast, his lips tracing along her neck, biting her softly. Sarah groaned with pleasure, her hand stroking rhythmically up and down along his length, baring her neck to him as he bit harder, clearly wanting to mark her.
    She could still feel her panties being tugged slowly down – this was clearly the point of no return, but she didn't care any more. She needed to fuck Jones, right here, right now. If somebody saw her, all the better. She wanted to be watched. And she needed to come so very much.
    As her panties were pulled further down, she couldn't resist looking back to at least give Claude a disapproving glance, to make it clear that she had no intention of fucking him, but as she turned to say something to him, she realised that it had not been him at all. Whilst she had been distracted, he and his new girlfriend had exchanged places, and it was Catherine who grinned at Sarah mischievously, sliding Sarah's panties all the way down her legs, tugging them off her ankles and dropping them carelessly to the floor of the club.
    Sarah felt another rush of desire. She hadn't been touched by another girl since a few minor fumblings back in her college days, and Catherine looked as turned on as she was. Claude was now knelt behind her, his hand sliding over Catherine's exposed cunt as she knelt on the sofa, clearly stroking her. Claude was already half naked, his erect penis fully on display and visibly throbbing.
    Sarah groaned at the sight, remembering again how much she had enjoyed watching him come, wanting to see him come again. She turned back to face Jones and pushed him back on the sofa, leaning over him and taking his cock into her mouth, sucking on him lasciviously. Her legs were spread wide open as she swirled her tongue around his erection, knowing Catherine would be able to see just how wet she was, displaying herself, wanting her to see.
    Without waiting to be asked, Catherine slid her fingers slowly up towards Sarah's cunt from behind and teased her fingertips across her sex, stroking her softly and rhythmically. It was more than Sarah could bear. She needed that touch so badly. She pushed herself back against Catherine's fingers, opening her thighs wider for her, taking Jones' cock deeper into her mouth. She was already close to orgasm, and Catherine's touch was pushing her closer still.
    She heard Catherine groan behind her, her fingers trembling as they pushed against Sarah's sex. Sarah glanced back, wanting to see, wanting to know what was happening to her. Claude was right up behind Catherine now, his expression intense, his hands gripping her hips, his cock plunging deep inside her cunt, fucking her urgently. Sarah pushed back harder onto her hand, making it clear what she wanted, groaning with pleasure as Catherine's fingers pushed deeper inside her cunt.
    Sarah could still hear the sounds of other people having sex around them, the sounds increasing as more of the party-goers succumbed to their desire. In every dark corner of the gallery people were fucking urgently, surrendering to the sensuality around them.
    The club was descending into an orgy, and here Sarah was right in the middle of it, doing exactly what she'd told herself she wouldn't do. She knew that from his position behind her, Claude would have a perfect view of Catherine's fingers deep inside her cunt. He was probably watching that as he fucked her. This was the second time in two days that Claude had seen her naked and having sex. It was starting to become a habit.
    On the sofas close to them, Kruger's group were getting just as intense. One of the younger men was now naked and leaning back, the second man on his knees, sucking his cock. Kruger was behind him, masturbating eagerly, paying no attention to Sarah at all, looking directly at the man in front of him, his other hand stroking the man's ass, spreading some kind of lube over it. As Sarah turned momentarily to watch, she caught sight of Kruger sliding his cock down to the young man's ass and slowly pushing it inside. The man groaned hard, pushing back against him, taking him into his ass. The sounds of another intense orgasm drifted across the room from elsewhere in the gallery, and then another, and another, each climax sparking the next.
    It was all Sarah could take. She needed to come, she had to come. Her orgasm had been building all night and she could no longer deny it.
    She pulled her lips from Jones' cock and took firm hold of it, stroking it hard and fast right in front of her face, at the same time pushing herself back harder onto Catherine's fingers, her hips bucking, her body starting to spasm. A wet splash spilled from her cunt, flooding over Catherine's fingers, and that was it... Catherine shoved her fingers deep into Sarah's cunt, and Sarah started to come, stifling a scream as her orgasm swept through her, grinding back hard against Catherine's hand, her cunt contracting around it, her body spasming again, riding the orgasm, not letting it go, never wanting it to stop.
    Jones growled, his cock throbbing hard in Sarah's hand, close to his own orgasm now, somehow holding it back. He pulled her up against him, kissing her passionately, his hand clutching her breast and squeezing it, his other hand moving down to her clit, rubbing around it, knowing what it would do to her, deliberately pushing her over the edge again. Sarah stifled a scream as she came a second time, grabbing onto him, pushing back against Catherine's thrusting fingers, another wet flood spilling from her cunt as she cried out with pleasure, barely able to take it, her body shaking, her cunt soaking wet.
    Jones kissed her again, his lips gliding against hers, and as her spasms still pulsated through her, he turned Sarah around on the sofa to face Claude and Catherine, tugging her up onto all fours, masturbating behind her. Sarah looked back at him, almost ready to beg him now, needing to be fucked, needing his cock inside her.
    “Fuck me...” she gasped, “ohh god... please, Jones... please fuck me.”
    She turned back to face Claude, aware that he would be watching them fuck, no longer caring. It was Jones that she needed, Jones' hard cock that she wanted plunging deep inside her, but there was something about the way Claude looked at her when she was being fucked that increased her arousal intensely. It excited her that Claude could see her, almost naked again and begging to be fucked. She looked Claude in the eyes again, rubbing herself back against Jones' cock, feeling it sliding against her soaking wet cunt, desperate for it.
    “Oh god, please fuck me...” she begged again, swiping her cunt against Jones' cock, needing it badly.
    She moaned with pleasure as she felt the full length of Jones's cock suddenly thrust deep inside her, pushing all the way inside her cunt, moaning again as she saw the look on Claude's face, seeing how much it excited him. Claude grabbed onto Catherine from behind, shoving his cock harder inside her, fucking her more intensely, looking right at Sarah as he fucked her. Sarah was certain that he was thinking about her, that he was imagining fucking her, and something about that excited her all the more.
    Behind her, Jones growled with pleasure, his cock throbbing harder with each thrust into her cunt, clearly close to his orgasm, still holding it back, his hand sliding through Sarah's hair and taking a firm hold, tugging her head back towards him as he thrust deeper inside her. Sarah cried out with pleasure, arching back against him.
    Jones leaned over and bit hard on her neck as his cock rammed harder and harder into her cunt, fucking her roughly now, barely able to hold back. Sarah could feel herself about to come again, groaning with pleasure, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold it back.
    Jones pushed her shoulders down, spreading her thighs wider, forcing his cock harder into her, thrusting and thrusting, not stopping. Sarah cried out again, looking up towards Catherine in front of her, wanting to see her come, suddenly desperate for it. Catherine was right on the edge of orgasm, pushing back harder against Claude, and for a moment their eyes met. Without thinking, Sarah lifted her hand up to Catherine's face and brushed her fingertips across her cheek.
    That one touch was all Catherine could take – she groaned with pleasure, her body bucking into convulsions, her back arching as she pushed herself all the way back onto Claude's cock, her face flushed as she came intensely. Claude was also clearly right on the edge of his own orgasm, breathing hard, his expression focussed, needing to come, trying to hold it back. Sarah wanted to see him come, and she wasn't prepared to wait. She looked Claude in the eyes again, thrusting back harder against Jones' cock, but this time speaking directly to Claude.
    “Come for me, Claude,” she gasped. “fuck... please come for me. I want to... uuunnhh... I want to see it. I want to see you come... fuckkk.... come for me, Claude... do it... come all over her... shoot that cum all over her... do it... come for me... ohhhh fuckk...”
    Claude groaned with pleasure, looking right at her. He thrust his cock inside her once... twice... and that was all he could take. He tugged his erection from Catherine's cunt, wrapping his fist around it and stroking it urgently. A long spurt of his cum splashed from his cock, spattering onto Catherine's back, followed by another spurt, and another, soaking her.
    Sarah groaned with intense pleasure, her body spasming again, a gush of her wetness flooding over Jones' thrusting cock, crying out as she started to come: “ohhh fuckk... fuck, I can't hold it back... I'm coming... I'm COMING... UUUUNNHHHHH!
    Jones growled, tugging her head back hard, ramming his cock deeper inside her, thrusting again... and again... and then he started to come, clutching onto her as his cock pulsated inside her, a hot jet of his cum spurting deep inside her cunt, and then another, and another.
    And as they came down from their orgasms, catching their breath, Jones easing his cock slowly from her cunt, Catherine slid her hand up to Sarah's cheek, pulled her face softly down to hers, and she kissed her softly and sensually.

The Dream Pills - Chapters 7 and 8

Monday, December 09, 2013 at 3:38 AM

Here we go with chapters seven and eight of the ongoing erotic romance novel - hope you enjoy :)

seven: pre-nuptials

Sarah wasn't entirely sure how she had ended up inviting Jones into her apartment after he had walked her home. She certainly hadn't planned it, and had she given the idea any real thought, she definitely would have avoided it. But sometimes, doing things on impulse could be a very wonderful thing.
    She had justified it with the suggestion that they could maybe have a coffee and discuss their tactics at the party that evening, but she knew that wasn't the real reason she had invited him inside. She had other things on her mind. Ever since the meeting with Claude at the hotel the previous day, the chemistry between herself and Jones had been obvious. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt that it was better just to run with it than to resist it.
    “You're sure you don't mind me being here?” he asked. As before, his politeness made her smile. For a man who was so good looking, his confidence was definitely lacking.
    “I invited you in, Jones. Just roll with it.”
    “I know,” he said, lifting his hand hesitatingly to her cheek, softly brushing across it. “It's just... I'm not usually like this. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of womaniser. I don't just randomly hop from bed to bed. I'm kind of not sure where we're going with this.”
    “You're so wonderfully old-fashioned,” she said. “Am I corrupting you?”
    Jones smiled. “If you are, I seem to rather like it.”
    He pulled her closer and kissed her. The kiss continued for some time, their lips brushing softly against each other. Something about his touch made her melt.
    “Jones...” she began, parting from his lips, “you should know... it's been a while for me too. However impulsive I might have seemed back in that hotel room, however I might seem to you now... well, this is unusual for me too. I don't really have a clue what I'm doing, y'know?”
    “That's usually the best way, so they say,” he whispered, and kissed her again, long and slow. As they kissed, she felt his hand rest upon her hip. Not for a second did she consider asking him to remove it. He moved closer to her, his body pressing up close against her, his lips softly gliding down across her neck. She knew she was lost.
    Without a thought he pushed her back against the wall, and she responded eagerly. Clothes were quickly discarded, her heart beating harder, their hands all over each other, touching and stroking, and if Sarah hadn't paused to invite him to her bedroom, she felt certain that he'd have fucked her right there in the kitchen, right up against the wall. He was making her feel like a teenager again.
    “Fuck me, Jones... I want you to fuck me. Take me to bed.”
    Jones growled softly, lifting her up in his arms, carrying her through into the bedroom.
    And in bed he was wonderful once again, never seeming to tire, eager to excite her, eager to fuck her repeatedly. His lovemaking wasn't by any means exotic, but he knew how to make her come. The way he held her down, the way he moved against her, his cock always so erect, always so ready, thrusting so very deep inside her.
    And that unrelenting passion when he fucked her: the way he looked at her as their bodies mingled, the way her heart beat harder when he gazed at her that way. Something was happening here, and she knew she didn't want to stop it.
    And he made the most wonderful sounds when he came. There was an electricity growing between them, her every nerve ending responding to his breath, to his touch, to his scent. She couldn't get enough of him, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

* * * *

Sarah and Jones were finally resting, catching their breath on the bed. The covers were mostly scattered about the floor, the room smelling pleasantly of sex. She loved the feeling of his warm cum deep inside her, that evidence of his lust for her. And she loved the way he held her afterwards, their bodies close, snuggling in the afterglow. She would have happily stayed that way forever. His arms were wrapped around her softly, as though he never wanted to let her go.
    “We should talk about the party.” His lips nuzzled into her neck as he spoke, his body spooned around her. “You seemed a little uncertain when Claude told us about it. Are you worried? Would you prefer that I attend alone? I'd understand if you do.”
    “No,” she said, “I think we should both be there. Kruger will be expecting both of us, after all. And since we've allowed him to believe that you're my assistant, it would seem strange if I sent you to his party and didn't go myself. We're both going to have to go. I'm just a little worried about... well, about the sexual aspect of the party. I haven't been to anything like this before.”
    “We don't need to indulge in those things once we're there,” Jones replied, speaking softly to reassure her, gently stroking her hair. Sarah purred in response. “We can stay on the edges and try to be discreet.”
    “I don't think we can do that,” said Sarah. “I think we're going to be watched closely by either Kruger or his aides. We're going to have to look like we're enjoying ourselves, even if we aren't behaving as badly as the others. We're going to need to appear to be comfortable in that scenario. I think that's maybe what's concerning me the most.”
    “You're worried about the acting?”
    “No, it's not that. Staying in character isn't a problem, it's more about what everyone else will be doing.”
    “You're worried about what you might see?”
    “Not worried, so much as curious. Claude talked about bondage, about submission, about how these events sometimes descend into an orgy. I'm going to need to make a polite withdrawal before it gets that way. But still, y'know, I've always kind of... wondered about all that kind of stuff.”
    “Wondered from an intellectual point of view?”
    Sarah smiled. “Sort of, I suppose.” She nuzzled back against him, breathing in his scent. “But it's more than that. I guess I've always wanted to, you know, experience it.”
    “So your concern isn't so much that you'll be appalled by what you might see, it's that you might be aroused by it? That it'll appeal to you?”
    “I'm certain it'll appeal to me, and that's precisely the problem. If I find that I'm really getting into it, really enjoying what's going on, then it's going to be very difficult not to become aroused by it all. And if I'm aroused, well you've probably noticed, I sort of lose my objectivity. It leaves me a little exposed. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. I need to maintain a professional distance from all of that. We're on a case.”
    “And you're concerned that I might be shocked by your arousal?”
    Sarah giggled, turning around to face him, drifting her hand across his chest and snuggling closer. “I don't think you're going to be at all shocked by my arousal,” she replied, sliding her hand down his body, feeling his skin warm and soft under her fingertips. “And obviously I'm not going to be shocked by yours either. But we won't be alone at the party. We're going to be surrounded by people we don't know, people we've never met. I'm not sure I want them to see me that way.”
    “See you what way?” he grinned.
    “Turned on, I guess. Sex for me has always been a private thing. I don't need a whole bunch of complete strangers seeing me naked, you know? That's not something I anticipated when we started this case.”
    Jones brushed Sarah's hair from her face and kissed her forehead affectionately. “As I recall, you didn't seem to mind Claude watching us yesterday. If anything I'd say you enjoyed it immensely.”
    “Technically, this is true,” Sarah grinned, sliding her hand further down his body. “I suppose I did rather enjoy that. But I wasn't planning on extending that invitation to half of London, y'know?”
    “Perhaps that's the real issue,” said Jones, his fingertips drifting through her hair and teasing down the back of her neck. “Perhaps you're more worried about discovering what a disgraceful little exhibitionist you are.”
    Sarah giggled and sighed softly at his touch, sliding her leg quickly over his body and straddling him, looking down at him as she settled astride his hips.
    “I hope you're not suggesting that I'm a bad girl, Jones. Is that what you're implying?” She slid her body against his, deliberately grinding her sex against his cock. Already she could feel it stirring against her, responding to her movements.
    Jones smiled up at her. His hands slid over her hips, holding her in place, and he pulled her down a little more firmly against his growing erection.
    “I don't believe I implied it at all,” he said. “I think I actually stated it.”
    Sarah pushed against him a little more firmly, teasing his cock with her sex, the lips of her cunt already wet again, sliding slowly back and forth along his shaft.
    “Then tell me again,” she whispered, “tell me what a bad little girl I am.”
    “Oh, you're a surprise,” he grinned, moving up against her, his grip firmer on her hips, pulling her down against him. His cock was almost fully erect now, warm and throbbing against her wetness.
    “Come on, tell me...” she said, “I want it... I want you to tell me I'm a bad little girl... say it to me, Jones...” Her words were dripping with lust now, her cunt delightfully wet as she moved against him. Jones growled softly and flipped her onto her back, still moving against her. His hands took hold of her wrists and pushed them over her head, pinning her down.
    “Wicked little girl,” he smiled. “I can see what you want. Do you want to be used? Is that what you need? Do you want me to take you?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, “yes, Jones, I want that...”
    Her cunt was soaking wet, and she could feel his cock moving slickly against her, needing him inside her now, needing him to fuck her.
    “You're such a bad little girl,” he breathed, “such a little slut...”
    “God yes,” she gasped, “fuck me, Jones... ohh god, please fuck me...”
    “Filthy little slut,” he growled, grinning at her, and with one long, hard thrust his cock plunged deep into her cunt. Sarah gasped at his first penetration, wrapping her legs around him, her body arching up towards him. Jones held her down, thrusting into her harder. “Do you want my cock?” he breathed. “Is that what you want?”
    “Yes!” she gasped. “Ohh fuck yes. God, I want your cock. Fuck me, Jones. Please. Do it. Fuck me. I want it. Don't hold back...”

eight: the party I

Sarah gave herself plenty of time to choose her outfit for Kruger's party, trying on various combinations, wanting to look as good as she could. She was determined to make an impression, as the success of their whole case depended on making a strong personal connection with Kruger.
    Her fashion sense aside, she also needed to persuade him that her business sense and acumen would be invaluable in getting his Dream Pills onto the market. This would clearly involve a great deal of bluffing from her, given that she didn't actually have the first clue how to run a drugs business. The act needed to be convincing. She needed to come across as a smart, powerful business woman, confident and brash.
    As they dressed, Jones fired potential questions at her, rehearsing her replies with her, making sure she was consistent. They couldn't be certain what Kruger might throw at her, so the more convincing her answers, the better. The importance of the party was obvious, and she needed to keep her wits about her. Which made the potentially sexual aspect of the event all the more worrying. She would need to be careful not to get too distracted.
    She had telegraphed Claude once she and Jones had emerged from bed, asking him for a few pointers for dress protocol. His advice, unsurprisingly, had been to wear as little as possible and to make it sexy and, as he put it, 'slightly perverse'. She was pretty sure that Claude was just stating his own preferences, but Jones had reassured her that, given the nature of the event, his advice was probably good.
    Jones had decided to dress in a fitted suit of black velvet, with a matching silk shirt and dark crimson tie. With his shoes shined to a gleam and his hair slicked back, he looked quite the attractive gentleman about town. He was also, Sarah noticed, fully covered and perfectly decent, whereas she was once again feeling distinctly under-dressed. This was becoming a habit.
    Her corset was undeniably pretty. It fit a little tighter than she would have preferred, but she loved the way it pulled in her waist, and it made her breasts look spectacular. The stockings and suspenders, however, were something else. Jones had assured her that a skirt was unnecessary, and that wearing just the sheer black stockings with some matching black panties looked 'just fabulous'. She had wanted to wear something over them, but Jones insisted that the only other thing she needed with the corset and the panties was a pair of high heels.
    She felt practically naked. Even with the addition of a velvet collar around her neck and a little costume jewellery, this wasn't the way she was accustomed to dressing. It was the first time she could remember leaving her home without at least wearing a skirt or some trousers. She was pretty much heading out on the town in her underwear.
    When the cab finally arrived, Sarah insisted on at least wearing a long black coat to disguise the outrageous costume underneath. Jones happily agreed, giving her a hug for courage.
    The cab was a simple affair: a black and somewhat old fashioned London taxi, with a large steampipe at the back chugging quietly, and what appeared to be only minimal suspension on the wheels. It was going to be a bumpy ride at best, but it was less ostentatious than arriving in her ornithopter. She had felt that it would be better if they didn't go out of their way to draw too much attention to themselves.
    Or at least, not until she disrobed in the club. She hoped that she had got the dress code right, or this could be very embarrassing for her.

* * * *

It was early evening and people were starting to fill the streets, heading for the various pubs and nightspots in the West End. The streets were packed with steamcars and cabs, and crowds of pedestrians strolled in groups along the pavements, winding their way around stalls and market sellers. Bicycles of all shapes and sizes weaved their own precarious way amongst the traffic. It was a typically chaotic summer's evening in London, the streets filled with light and life.
    Given the choice, Sarah would also have have preferred to be enjoying herself amongst the crowds rather than working in her underwear. But she guessed that one way or another they were in for something of a show themselves this evening. Especially if everything Claude had said about Kruger's parties was true.
    “The Hellfire Club, please, driver,” she announced, as she stepped inside the taxi with Jones.
    “We'll be there in a jiffy, ma'am.”
    A toot sounded from the driver's horn, and the car chugged out into the street, steambikes veering out of the way as they inched into the traffic.
    'The Hellfire Club.' It was pretty much the tackiest name Sarah could imagine for a night club, and it had embarrassed her to repeat the name to the cab driver. Especially when she was dressed like a stripper. She squeezed Jones's hand for assurance.
    “Don't worry,” he whispered, “just keep your cool. We'll be in and out of there before you know it.”

* * * *

The club was situated at the far end of Denmark Street, and from the outside it didn't look especially exotic. More to the point, it was exactly the kind of venue she had previously avoided. You could never really tell from the outside whether such places were small and intimate, or dark and grungy.
    It was at least clear that the clientèle this evening were people with money and a rather decadent lifestyle. A small queue of party-goers were making their way into the venue as Sarah and Jones arrived, all of them clad in a similar style to her. Silk and velvet was in abundance. Most of the women (and a smaller proportion of the men) were wearing collars of one kind or another, and a great deal of bare flesh was on display.
    Sarah had thought her own outfit was daring, but it was positively conservative in comparison to the fetish gear that some of the attendees were wearing in the queue. The predominant colour in evidence was black, laced through with reds and purples. High heels were very much on display, and the few skirts being worn were short enough to barely be called skirts.
    The gentlemen were suited and booted in velvet and suede, some with canes and top hats, many of them wearing their finest goggles. Sarah regretted not wearing her own. She knew that they suited her, and they might have helped her feel a little less naked.
    She was at least relieved that she had chosen the right outfit. As outrageous as her own costume was, many of the women were showing far more than her.
     “Just enjoy the event,” Jones said. “Don't give them any reason to be suspicious. Relax and have fun.”
    “Easy enough for you to say,” she replied as they eased out of the cab, “you're not out in public in your underwear.” She gave him a slightly sour look.
    Rather than joining the small queue, Jones suggested that they simply approach the door and give their names. As British liaisons for Kruger's operation, they theoretically held some clout, and definitely wouldn't have been expected to queue to get in.
    “Behave like your shit doesn't stink,” Jones had said. “If you'll pardon the expression.”
    His instincts proved to be correct, and they were quickly waved into the club by the bouncer on the door. Sarah slipped a little nervously out of her topcoat and handed it to the girl on reception. It felt like she was stripping down to her underwear. Despite the revealing costumes of the other people walking into the club, Sarah still couldn't avoid the feeling that she was terribly under-dressed. She carried herself as best she could, Jones accompanying her and walking discreetly behind her, brandishing his cane.
    “For god's sake keep close to me in here,” Sarah whispered to Jones as they made their way down the staircase, “If I get left alone, god only knows who might approach me when I'm dressed like this.”
    “Understood,” said Jones, “Don't worry, Sarah, I won't be leaving your side. Trust me, you look absolutely exquisite.”
    The small staircase opened out into a fairly sizeable converted cellar, dark and expensively furnished. It was much larger than Sarah had guessed from the door outside. There was a large dance floor at the foot of the stairs, and three different bar areas scattered around the spacious room. Seven or eight comfortable seating areas were situated here and there, dressed with lavishly-covered sofas and easy chairs. A further staircase led to a gallery above, which contained more sofas, tables and a large white grand piano.
    The lighting in the club was low, peppered by neon décor and flashing, spinning globes. Pools of gaslight in an array of bright colours flickered throughout the room. Music was playing through the sound system, with giant horns feeding the latest gramophone chart hits through the club.
    A few of the attendees were already dancing, whilst other people gathered at the bar to order drinks. At the moment it just looked like a typical night club, though Sarah had a feeling that the evening was likely to heat up as the night progressed. With luck, she and Jones would be able to make their excuses and leave before anything too kinky or peculiar started taking place.
    Not that she was against seeing that sort of thing, but her nerves were currently battling her curiosity, and those nerves were definitely winning. She absolutely didn't want to end up getting involved in something sexual while they were here, whatever Kruger might think to the contrary.
    Sarah couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was all just some kind of test. And if that was the case, how should she respond to that test and yet still remain professional and detached?
    Kruger had seen the pair arrive, and he flourished down the staircase from the gallery with a pretty young man on each arm. Claude walked behind him, smiling sardonically at her.
    “Sarah, how wonderful to see you,” said Kruger. “You're looking suitably divine.” Kruger bowed extravagantly, took her hand and kissed it softly. “I hope you find the venue to your liking.”
    “It's an interesting choice, Mister Kruger,” Sarah responded, smiling politely. “I assume you have some kind of floor show in store for us tonight?”
    “I do have a little something in store, yes.” Kruger kept hold of her hand and walked with her towards the bar. “Though generally at these parties I prefer to allow the floor show to present itself, if you get my meaning.”
    “I'm sure I do,” she replied, inwardly shuddering.
    “Though there will of course be certain entertainments to keep you amused.” He waved at the barman, who took their orders and began to prepare the drinks.
    “I look forward to it,” Sarah lied. “I fear I won't be able to stay the entire evening, but I'm sure I'll enjoy at least a flavour of it.” She hoped that she didn't sound too stand-offish; she needed to be careful of that. It was far better to allow Kruger to think that this event was just the kind of thing that she loved.
    “As you wish,” Kruger responded. “Though I think you'll find yourself reluctant to leave. If you enjoy the party as much as I hope you will, I'll look forward to discussing the first shipment with you tomorrow.” Kruger looked at Jones disapprovingly. “Will your assistant be accompanying you for the entire evening?”
    “He's free to enjoy himself as he wishes,” Sarah said, accepting a wine bottle and two glasses from the barman.
    “Then I hope he has a wonderful time,” Kruger smiled. “Please excuse me: a host's duties, I'm sure you understand.”
    Kruger drifted towards the other party goers as they entered the club, welcoming them warmly. Sarah glanced at Jones, and led him over to a sofa in the corner.

* * * *

The party appeared to get off to a relatively normal start. The doors closed once all the guests had finally arrived, good music played, alcohol was in abundant supply and there was plenty of dancing.
    Even Sarah and Jones were indulging in the pleasure of it all. Jones took her for a spin across the dance floor, his grace and poise delighting her. When he smiled at her, it was all she could do not to kiss him passionately, right there in the centre of the dance floor. Was there nothing this man didn't excel at? This was turning into a wonderfully fun night out. 
    And then the male strippers arrived. Sarah had finally managed to relax, sat at a table with Jones as they caught their breath from the previous dance, feeling as though she had worried too much. But now it was clear that the real entertainment was about to begin. As the grinding music started over the gramophones and the six men took their places on the dance floor, Sarah raised her eyebrow critically.
    “Looks like the cheese has finally arrived,” she whispered to Jones.
    He laughed softly in return, squeezing her hand to reassure her of his presence. Her first instinct had been to suggest to Jones that they leave, but he dissuaded her.
    “If we go this early we'll seem like prudes,” he said, “just relax and go with it. They're not so bad looking after all.” He smiled wryly at her.
    And he had made a good point. As the routine began and the dancers moved to the music, she had to admit that she was enjoying the show. Shirts were quickly tugged off from broad male chests, trousers were soon discarded, and despite the shallowness of the performance she could definitely see the aesthetic appeal of these six young men. They were choreographed perfectly, and by the time they were stripped down to minimal g-strings, Sarah was undeniably having a good time watching them. So she liked seeing men strip. Who would have guessed?
    But the strippers' act didn't end there. The music continued as they danced, practically naked now, their bodies rippling with muscles, bumping and grinding, their movements increasingly erotic and brazen. Sarah could feel a shift in the atmosphere in the club, as though many of those watching already knew what was to come next and were eagerly anticipating it. Suddenly it felt a little wilder, and copious cheering was coming from various women sat at the tables around the dance floor, who clearly wanted to see more.
    Happy to oblige the demands, each of the strippers began to stroll from the dance area in their g-strings and mingle amongst the tables, still moving to the increasingly sensual music, smiling and laughing as one or two women got a little braver, touching the dancers as they walked by, eager to get closer to them.
    “Keep your head down,” Sarah whispered to Jones, “I don't want any of them coming over here.” She eased back in her seat, relieved that they'd chosen a table towards the back of the club.
    “I could probably do without it too,” he said, giving her a wry smile.
    But despite her reluctance to get involved, she couldn't help herself from watching when she saw what was happening at the next table. A stripper had wandered right up to the small group of girls sat around the table, smiling as one of them slid her hand across his g-string. He swayed provocatively in front of the girl, grinding his hips to the music, encouraging her to keep touching him, and her friends goaded her on, laughing and giggling.
    Sarah drew in her breath, watching the girl wink at the dancer and tug his g-string slowly all the way down his muscled legs, revealing his sizeable cock. The dancer wiggled in front of the girl's face, teasing her with his cock, seemingly not at all bothered by being naked in front of her.
    Around them, mingling amongst the tables as they danced, the other strippers were also letting the women touch them, encouraging them to tug down their loosely tied g-strings, clearly unembarrassed at being that exposed in front of them. Before long, all six dancers were completely naked, swaying to the rhythms, moving from table to table around the room, enjoying the attention of the women. They were also starting to become visibly aroused, their cocks growing as they moved to the music, displaying themselves to the girls as they danced.
    Sarah wasn't sure which way to look, and half-wondered if she wouldn't be behaving just as badly if she had been here with a group of girlfriends, laughing and whooping just the same. But she reigned in her thoughts. Kruger didn't need to see just how wild she could become when she was turned on.
    Or at least, that's what she was trying to tell herself. And yet she couldn't take her eyes from that first dancer, wiggling his hips so provocatively in front of the girl at the table next to her. The girl had managed to completely remove his g-string, and as he danced for her she was still touching him, her friends egging her on as her fingertips worked their way up along the inside of his legs. The dancer smiled at her and moved closer, giving her an absolute invitation to go further, his cock a little swollen now, almost erect as he gyrated in front of her, teasing her.
    Sarah was unable to look away. She had never seen anything like this before – a naked man virtually waving his cock in front of a girl's face, in full view of everyone else at the nightclub. And no-one seemed to mind at all - if anything, the girl's friends were encouraging both of them. Sarah was fascinated and appalled in equal measure. She was also, despite her misgivings, getting rather turned on.
    The girl had clearly had enough of being teased by the dancer. As her friends encouraged her, she reached up boldly and slipped her hand around his cock, sliding her fingers gently along his length, stroking him in slow rhythm as he moved in front of her.
    Sarah couldn't quite believe it. She had never seen anything like this before – audience participation was all well and good, but the girl was stroking the stripper's cock, masturbating him right in front of her face, in full view of her friends and the rest of the club. Was this what Kruger had meant when he said he liked the floor show to present itself? Did this kind of thing always happen at these parties? Sarah half-wondered if it was about time that they left, but she was still rooted in her seat, unable to tear her gaze away from the sight, her curiosity overcoming her. She could feel herself throb delightfully, anticipating the girl's next move.
    And suddenly there it was – as the dancer slipped his hand through the girl's hair, drawing her closer to him, she smiled up at him, steered the head of his growing cock towards her lips and took him eagerly into her mouth, practically devouring his cock. The dancer looked down at her, groaning softly as his cock slid between her lips, pushing it deeper into her mouth, his grip firmer in her hair as she licked and sucked him, lapping at him.
    Without even thinking, Sarah let her hand stray to Jones's thigh, gripping onto it as she saw the dancer shove his cock deeper into the girl's mouth, her friends clearly enjoying the show, one of them starting to touch herself as she watched, her face flushed.
    And the girl wasn't the only one being so bold. Women at the other tables were becoming equally intimate with the strippers. Sarah could see two more of the dancers being masturbated by the giggling women around them, their cocks delightfully erect. The other three dancers were being just as provocative, encouraging girls to touch them, happy to let it happen. As Sarah glanced around the room, she saw one of the dancers whisper something into a woman's ear, smiling as she nodded and then picking her up in his arms, leading her into a darker corner of the room.
    “Perhaps you're right,” Jones whispered, “maybe we should think about leaving. I think the real party is about to take place. It's getting a little wild in here. Are you still okay?”
    He turned to look at her, smiling softly, clearly concerned about her.
    Sarah turned to face him, realising she was a little flushed and hoping he wouldn't notice.
    “Would you mind if we watched... just for a little while? I know it's bad of me and I realise this is all a bit cheesy, but it might be fun to spectate for a short while. We can slip away soon.”
    Jones smiled and gave her a reassuring hug. “Of course I don't mind, if that's what you want. Let me go fetch us both another drink, it's getting a little warm in here.” He smiled again and kissed her on the cheek, easing up from the sofa.
    Sarah watched him walk across to the bar, enjoying the way he moved, her gaze drifting down his body, suddenly imagining him as naked as the dancers, picturing his cock between those women's lips, fucking their mouths. Sarah felt another warm rush at her sex. She was absolutely going to have to fuck Jones when they arrived back at her apartment. She needed it now more than ever.
    As Jones ordered their drinks at the bar, Sarah's gaze fell back onto the girl at the table next to her, wanting to see more, wondering how far she would go.
    The dancer was now forcefully pushing his cock into the girl's mouth, his hand gripping her hair as he slid in and out of her lips, his cock firmly erect. The girl was clearly enjoying it, her friends still giggling, a couple of them sliding their hands over his body as he pushed his cock deeper in her mouth. Her hand was already down between her own legs, her short skirt hiked up to give herself more access, touching herself as she sucked him. Sarah gasped, almost unable to look away.
    Feeling oddly indiscreet for gazing at them so openly, Sarah tore her gaze from them and looked around the room, seeing Claude over by one of the bars, talking to a particularly attractive looking girl. Sarah recognised her as one of the two bodyguards Kruger had employed at the meeting in the crypt.
    Around the room, despite the loud music, Sarah could hear gasps drifting around the club. Two of the dancers had disappeared from view, but in dark corners she could see people kissing and touching, the sensuality in the club rising. Glancing back towards Claude, she saw him push the girl back against the wall and kiss her, his hand gliding down her body, drifting over her panties. The girl visibly trembled as Claude touched her, pushing her crotch against his exploring fingertips.
    Sarah bit her lip, feeling another rush of wetness from her sex as she saw his fingers gently stroke the young girl though her panties, his fingertips circling in slow rhythm, the girl drawing Claude closer against her and kissing him passionately.
    Sarah found herself wondering what it would be like to watch Claude in the same way that he had watched her, seeing him fuck another girl, performing on the bed for her pleasure. She knew that she wouldn't have been able to resist climbing onto the bed with them, touching them both, wanting to be far more than just a voyeur. How did Claude resist those impulses?
    Her mind wandered, picturing him on his back, the girl riding his cock eagerly, imagining herself straddling his face, masturbating over him as she kissed the girl passionately.
    Sarah quickly dismissed the thought from her head and turned away, her sex throbbing. The sights and sounds in the club were pushing her arousal way too far. She was intensely turned on, barely able to control herself. She knew she needed to calm down.
    Claude wasn't the only one starting to enjoy the event a little more thoroughly. Around the room other couples were beginning to pair off. Some were slipping away into darker corners of the club. Others were kissing each other more openly, enjoying being seen, the heat in the club rising as their passions increased.
    And it wasn't simply couples getting together. Here and there girls were kissing too, their hands touching each other, stroking and exploring, the sensual atmosphere in the club spurring them on.
    Sarah was very wet. She could feel the wetness dampening her panties, aware that it might be visible, crossing her legs to disguise it as best she could. She looked back at the first table she'd been watching, wanting to see more, no longer caring if they saw her, too turned on to care.
    The girl's friends had moved back a little to give the pair more room, their drinks rescued from the table. The girl was now bent right over it, her breasts spilling out of her corset, her silk panties tugged all the way down. The dancer was stood behind her, masturbating openly as he looked down at her, clearly about to fuck her from behind. Two of the girl's friends were kissing each other intermittently as they watched, the third girl not taking her gaze off the man, her fingers firmly down inside her panties and rubbing herself rhythmically.
    Sarah could barely take her eyes off the dancer's cock, defiantly erect in his hand, his fingers pumping back and forth along his erection as he steered it down towards the girl's sex, rubbing it against the lips of her cunt. The girl moaned, spreading her thighs further. With a growl he grabbed onto her hips and pushed his cock all the way into her cunt, thrusting hard and deep inside her.
    Sarah stifled a small groan, watching the dancer push his cock harder inside her. The girl was gripping the edge of the table, pushing herself back against him, needing more, desperate for it. He rammed his cock harder and harder, his belly slapping against her ass as he fucked her. It was all Sarah could do not to touch herself, her body trembling, aware of her own scent as her wetness pooled at her sex, incredibly turned on.
    “I hope you're enjoying the show.” The voice was sardonic but friendly.
    Startled from her reverie, Sarah looked up to see Claude arriving at her table, accompanied by the young woman he had been touching earlier. She was now holding his hand and standing quietly next to him, looking a little flushed.
    “Allow me to introduce Catherine,” he said, indicating the girl next to him. “Catherine, this is my good friend and business associate, Sarah Chance.”
    Claude gave Sarah a sly wink, and Sarah smiled back at him as she shook Catherine's hand, inviting them both to sit with her.
    “This is quite a show,” Sarah said, grateful for the brief interruption and the chance to catch her breath, determining to look away from the action over at the other tables before it pushed her into doing something she might regret in the morning. “Are Kruger's parties always like this?”
    Behind Claude, Sarah could still see the dancer fucking the girl hard over the table, her friends kissing and masturbating around her. She did her best not to think about it.
    “Trust me, the party has barely started,” Claude said, a wicked glint in his eye. “I've attended a few of Kruger's get-togethers in Paris over the past couple of months. He likes to make sure his guests have a good time.”
    “So I noticed,” Sarah replied. “It's getting a little wild.”
    As if to emphasise her statement, the sounds of an intense orgasm drifted across the room. Sarah turned to look, seeing the girl at the table next to her coming intensely over the dancer's cock, clinging onto the table desperately as she shoved herself back against him, the dancer continuing to pound relentlessly into her cunt. The girl threw her head back, screaming as he drove deeper, another orgasm about to flood through her. The dancer grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her back hard against him, thrusting more urgently into her cunt. Sarah felt another warm flood at her sex, trying to push back her own arousal, insanely turned on.
    “You sort of get used to it,” Claude smiled, ignoring the disturbance. He slipped his arm around Catherine's shoulder as she snuggled closer to him. “Will you be indulging yourself, or are you still intending to depart early? I think you'll miss a great deal of fun if you do.”
    Sarah glanced again at the table next to her, her sex pulsing again as she saw the dancer tug his cock from the girl's cunt, stroking his cock hard, a jet of cum arcing from his cock, spattering over the girl's back.
    “I haven't decided yet,” she said, biting her lip. “I must admit to being in two minds, for reasons I'm sure are obvious.” She glanced across to the bar to see Jones finally returning with their drinks. “I may leave the decision to Jones. He's far more sensible than me, I'm sure.”
    “It's getting a little debauched down here,” Jones commented as he reached the table. “Should we head upstairs to the gallery area? It might be easier for us to talk.”
    “Didn't I tell you he was the sensible one?” Sarah smiled amiably to Claude, but he simply raised his eyebrow in response and gave her a cheeky wink.
    “If you say so,” he said wryly as Sarah got up from the sofa, taking her drink from Jones.
    Claude grinned at them both and led them through the tables towards the staircase.

The Dream Pills - chapters five and six

Wednesday, December 04, 2013 at 7:26 PM

Here we go with chapters five and six of the ongoing erotic romance novel - hope you enjoy :)

five: personal reasons

Claude was as good as his word. His intentions had been filthy, his desires plainly evident, but at least he wasn't the kind of a man who backed out of a deal. No sooner had they finished their mutual pleasure than he had provided Sarah and Jones with the venue of a meeting he had already arranged for them with Kruger. His intention was to introduce the pair to the drug dealer as his new London contacts.
    Sarah eased out of bed, a little embarrassed by her behaviour, but nonetheless feeling really good. Nothing further had happened following Claude's orgasm – Sarah had happily invited him onto the bed with them to indulge in further pleasures, but Claude had reiterated that a deal was a deal, and that business was now more important than pleasure.
    She had been surprised by his reaction, given his enthusiasm only moments before. Perhaps he simply wasn't really attracted to her, and it was the event rather than the individuals that he preferred. Or perhaps he just didn't want to get too involved. Either way, with their mutual orgasms, the deal was complete.
    Sarah smiled with shyness at Jones, and he held her gaze for a few moments, sliding his fingers through his ruffled hair, tidying it as he slid with some embarrassment out of bed.
    It was clear to Sarah that Claude must have already prepared their meeting with Kruger before their performance for him, which obviously suggested that the voyeuristic episode hadn't been at all necessary. Sarah decided not to raise the issue. They now had the introduction they required, and it wasn't as though she hadn't enjoyed the results of his voyeurism.
    But everything was suddenly more complicated now. As she picked up her clothes, stretching a little before sliding into her panties, she found herself already fretting about the consequences of her actions. Why did sex introduce such complications? How did other people seem to enjoy it so casually without their heads getting screwed up somewhere along the line? Sarah had never been one for casual sexual encounters, and remaining professional about the potential ramifications of this particular encounter would be tricky for her.
    She knew she wanted more, from both of them. It had been a long time since her last, rather hopeless boyfriend, and she had concentrated on her career since then. But now she had been with two men at the same time, both of them almost strangers to her, and she couldn't help but want more. Not that either of them were even slightly suitable on any kind of long term basis. She glanced at them both as she tugged up her panties.
    Claude was fascinating but almost certainly a hedonist, probably moving from one filthy encounter to another. Could she trust him for a moment if he was out of her sight? She doubted it.
    And then there was Jones – poor, broken Jones, who defended her honour one minute and then fucked her wantonly the next. Was this some rebound thing for him? She wasn't in the mood for fixing anyone. The case was crucial and all of this was just going to get in the way.
    And yet she still couldn't help feeling shy as she continued to dress, wondering what Jones really thought about her, wondering if she had really done the right thing. The sex with him had been so intense, so passionate. It had carried her away, taken her far beyond anything she had previously felt.
    Did he always fuck like that, so wonderfully, so completely? The touch of him, the feel of his lips against hers, the way they moved together so easily, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. She had never experienced sex like that before. She could still taste him on her lips.
    Put it aside, she thought, it's just chemistry. Don't let your body rule your mind. Remember your training.
    And then there was the complication of Claude watching them. It had admittedly been fun, but did that cheapen the experience somehow?
    As she tugged her silk and velvet finery back on, noting that her panties were still a little wet and enjoying the sensation against her skin, she couldn't help but be curious how they had both looked to Claude, and whether it had been what he wanted. Were the people he watched always satisfying to him, or was he sometimes disappointed? Had they performed to his satisfaction, and had it been intense enough for him?
    He had reached orgasm, of course. She blushed a little, remembering how she had taken him into her mouth so readily, suddenly embarrassed by the memory. But how did Claude really judge them? Were they good or not so good? He was giving nothing away, buckling up his trousers and smiling at them politely.
    She also wondered whether his interest really had been in watching them both fuck, or whether his real enthusiasm lay in watching her. Each time Sarah had looked at Claude during her time with Jones on the bed, his gaze had seemed entirely fixated upon her. He had shown little or no interest in watching Jones, but had clearly enjoyed seeing what Jones was doing to her. She was still fairly convinced that, had she agreed to go to his hotel room alone with him, he would have just as happily watched her on her own as she masturbated for him.
    And, more to the point, he would almost certainly have wanted to fuck her.
    It was an interesting idea, and there was a definite frisson in being the object of such easy lust. Claude was a charming rogue, but Sarah simply couldn't muster the same interest in him. She had enjoyed watching him come, feeling his cum splashing against her lips, onto her face. But that was just lust, pure and simple.
    As she brushed her hair in the dressing table mirror, she glanced at Jones behind her, buttoning up his tie. He was looking back at her, not realising that she could see him. Suddenly noticing her reflection in the mirror, he smiled and his face reddened, turning away.

* * * *

With Claude eager to report back by telegraph to his own French Service, Sarah gave him a polite kiss on the cheek and watched him depart, and then left the hotel with Jones, who had offered to see her home. Sarah had gently protested, reassuring Jones that she was more than capable of finding her own way back to her apartment, but he had insisted, taking her hand and accompanying her through the late afternoon streets and back towards Covent Garden.
    He smiled at Sarah as they walked, her arm tucked in his. The late afternoon sunshine was still beaming down as they made their way past the British Museum.
    The traffic was increasing and many of the daytime workers were now heading home. The roads were filled with a wheezing, tooting parade of coaches, omnibuses and steambikes, and the occasional buzz of an ornithopter whirred overhead as they walked.
    The Museum was dazzling in the afternoon light, crowds coming and going through the huge black gates and swarming around the portico, the people weaving in and out of each other, excitable and curious.
    “I suppose you think that I indulge in such escapades on a regular basis,” Jones began, breaking the silence. He sounded charmingly shy and hesitant, as though this were some first date rather than the aftermath of their intense almost-threesome.
    “Well, it's true that you do have a certain reputation in The Organisation.” Sarah squeezed his hand softly, offering him a sly smile.
    There was a wonderful scent in the air of baked goods and sweetmeats, of spices and tea. Various shopping stalls spilled halfway out into the road to tempt the tourists, the scent of their food teasing the passers-by. Sarah could feel her stomach rumbling. Their adventure in bed had increased her appetite.
    “It comes with the position,” he said, strolling with her towards the stalls. “There's no truth to it. You'll get that more yourself as you work there longer. The job gives us a certain glamour and mystique, what with the uniforms and the machines and the gadgets and the constant globe-trotting and stuff. Along with all of that seems to come an assumption that we must be fucking our way across Europe, jumping into bed with other agents at every opportunity. Sadly the truth is usually far less glamorous. Mostly I'm just talking to people I really dislike and eating far too many chips.”
    Sarah grinned. “Chips can be good.”
    “I do like chips. If I could go back in time and meet whoever it was who invented them, I'd give them a big hug. 'Thanks for the chips,' I'd say.”
    Sarah smiled. “It's true that there are all kinds of stories, I guess. Not all about you, obviously. But most people think that the life of a Steam Agent involves all manner of filthy sexual indiscretions. It's something that was mentioned to me when I was first offered the promotion – that I should be ready to jump into bed with someone if it looked as though that would be the only way to get information. I've managed not to have to do that so far. Well, y'know, until today.”
    Jones paused at a hot roasted nuts stall on the corner of the street, buying himself a bag and offering the same to Sarah, which she politely refused.
    “That's okay, I'll share yours.”
    “If you're sure.” Jones held the bag open as Sarah fished out a handful of nuts, nibbling on them as they resumed their walk.
    “I suppose that might be more true for female agents. I'm not sure,” he said. “But today was... unusual. Not something I've ever had to do before. I personally feel that it's an unsubtle and rather deceitful way to do business. Claude is just a kinky swine, basically.” He laughed, squeezing her hand. “I dunno, I'm maybe too locked into the old way of doing things. In my experience there are lots of ways to get what you need, and virtually none of these methods require sex. It's really about hard work and dedication, not about who's best in the sack. Perhaps I'm an old traditionalist, I don't know.”
    He laughed quietly and took another munch.
    “It's been a while for you, hasn't it?” Sarah asked, wary that she might be poking her nose into something that wasn't really her business. “Since you enjoyed yourself that freely, I mean?”
    “Yes, I suppose it has,” he replied.
    He went quiet for a few moments, strolling next to her. Sarah couldn't help but notice that he looked rather sad. She hoped that she hadn't just opened an old wound for him.
    Jones took a deep breath. “I was on a tough case in Madagascar for the past six months,” he began. “It took a toll on me. I know you've heard about it back at the office, you said as much. It was a big case. Very important to The Organisation. I had to put a few personal things aside, not necessarily voluntarily. These things... well, you know these things can happen sometimes, you'll come to understand that. It's the way of the world, I suppose, and we're all aware of it when we do this job.”
    He hesitated for a moment, and then squeezed her hand softly. It felt as though it were for reassurance.
    “Something happened to me,” he continued. “It's why I requested something a little lighter on my return to London. Something less emotionally taxing, you know? Accompanying you on your meeting with Claude, and then maybe mentoring you for a while, well it seemed the ideal opportunity to relax and take things easier. I thought it would be a simple exchange of information, and I know that's what Grandfather assumed too. I don't want you to think that I anticipated how the meeting would turn. I had no idea he had anything like that on his mind.”
    “To be fair, I don't think that Claude had anticipated that either,” said Sarah, smiling as she stole a couple more nuts from his bag. “I think he came up with that little event rather spontaneously. Do you regret it?” Sarah bit her lip, wishing she hadn't asked the question.
    Jones stopped her on the street and faced her, his hands on her shoulders, smiling softly down at her. “Not for one moment,” he replied. “If I'm being honest, I was attracted to you from the first moment I saw you. Claude was right in recognising that. For what it's worth.”
    Sarah reached up to him, pulled his face gently down to hers and kissed him softly.
    “And if I'm being honest,” she said, “I wanted you from that first moment that you walked into the room.”

* * * *

Sarah was strongly tempted to invite Jones into her apartment, but she resisted the temptation and gave him a soft kiss on her doorstep.
    She didn't want to get overly involved with him, after all. She reminded herself that nothing that had taken place in that hotel room was real. It was lovely that Jones was attracted to her - he seemed to be a good man and the sex, however brief, had been wonderful. But it was still a part of the job, a business arrangement to satisfy Claude. To read any more into it was a mistake. She wasn't a teenager any more. She needed to try to be professional.
    And she was still wondering to herself whether the whole thing hadn't been a terrible mistake. Jones was still broken from whatever had happened in Madagascar. Would this have made matters worse for him?
    She settled back alone into her apartment, made herself a steaming-hot cup of tea and sat down on her leather sofa. With a sigh she tugged the lever on the side of her coffee table. The monitor screen raised up with a soft hiss.
    The screen was small and bulky, with various pipes and power cords leading to a small input at the side of the machine. She picked up a piece of coal from the fireside, popped it into the door at the back of the screen and closed it. She sparked up the pilot light until the coal was gently aflame, glowing behind the screen. Slowly the monitor came to life: a rush of static followed by a grainy image of Grandfather's office.
    “Hello, Grandfather? It's Sarah Chance, I'm reporting in after the meeting with Claude Benoit.”
    Grandfather's face slowly came into view, puffing on a large pipe, clearly pleased to see her.
    “Sarah, how delightful, I was hoping you'd report in this afternoon. How did the meeting go?”
    “Very well, thank you, Grandfather.” Sarah thought it best to remain discreet about the nature of the deal they had struck. It had no effect on the case they were pursuing, after all, so there seemed no need to give him the gruesome details. “The French Service have been very forthcoming in relation to a case they had been pursuing in Paris. They're concerned that the operation has now moved to London, so we've been given an opportunity to work undercover with the group to find out more.”
    “And this group would be the criminal organisation supposedly headed by Oswald Kruger?”
    “Yes, Sir, that's the one.”
    “We've been forwarded the information by your Monsieur Benoit. I'm not sure about this one, Sarah. He seems to be suggesting that you and Jones join his group as London liaisons. Sorting out identities for you is no problem, but I'm not convinced that it's safe. You are aware, I'm guessing, of the dangers inherent in working undercover in this manner?”
    “Of course, Sir,” she replied. “I've been trained very thoroughly for such eventualities. I'm keen to get on with it, if you're happy to give us your blessing.”
    “I'm not sure, Sarah. I don't like the look of the psychotropic drug his group are manufacturing. It's almost certain that both you and Jones will be encouraged to try the drug for yourselves, and that concerns me greatly.”
    “I appreciate that, Sir,” Sarah replied. “I can assure you that neither Jones or myself will be taking those pills. We've already been given a warning by Monsieur Benoit of the dangers inherent in the drugs, so we'll be avoiding them at all costs.”
    “Be careful to do just that,” said Grandfather, tapping on his pipe. “I need you both to be in complete control of your faculties at all times. You never know when you might need to make a quick getaway. These undercover operations can be rather testy at the best of times.”
    “Yes, Sir. So I take it that we have your permission to proceed with the operation?”
    “In principle, yes. But I want daily reports sent directly to my office. The moment you need assistance, I'll expect you to call in immediately. It's important that these blighters get put away as quickly and efficiently as possible.”
    “Yes, Sir. I'll do my best for the Empire, Sir.”

* * * *

Grandfather tugged the lever and watched as his monitor screen sank back down into his desk, his tea service neatly sliding across the space and clicking firmly into place. He sighed softly and picked up his teacup, took a sip and leaned back into his chair. It gave a satisfying creak as he eased back, and he rocked in it absent-mindedly. He picked up his tobacco from the top of the desk, stuffed some more into his pipe and lit it again, puffing it a couple of times and blowing the smoke out through his nostrils.
    This case worried him. Sarah Chance was a novice agent, and this wasn't the kind of scenario he had planned to give to her in these early stages of her training. He'd allowed her to do this job precisely because he figured it would be a simple piece of information exchange, with Jones there to guide her hand if things became a little complex.
    And yet now they were being drawn into an undercover operation over which he felt he had no control. It was extremely unusual for such operations to be commenced without detailed groundwork, and he preferred to use his best and most reliable agents. But now, entirely due to the shallowness of this French agent, young Sarah was about to enter a highly dangerous situation with little experience on which to draw.
    He wasn't happy about it. Jones would be there of course, but he was hardly all that reliable at the moment.
    The situation didn't sit well with him. Grandfather took another puff of his pipe and quietly crossed his fingers.

six: into the crypt

Sarah woke with an ecstatic shout, arching as she came, intense pleasure pulsating from her clit, her body spasming as she bucked and writhed, moaning with pleasure.
    “Fuuuuckk... unnhhhhhhh... ohhh my god... ”
    Her body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her hand pressed firmly between her thighs, still rubbing her clit frantically, her other hand clutching the bedsheet tightly as her orgasm swept through her.
    Her legs trembled again as her body arched up higher towards her fingers, chasing the orgasm, desperate for more. The sheets of her bed were scattered about her, some of them half off the bed, others tangled around her body, bathed in her wetness.
    “Fucking god yes... wow...
    Sarah caught her breath, her head spinning, her clit still pulsating delightfully. It had been far too long since she'd woken up this way.
    Her dreams had been vivid and wonderfully realistic, replaying the events of the previous day. She could remember being fucked again by Jones in her dream, feeling his body moving urgently against her, his cock buried deep inside her cunt, throbbing inside her. It had all felt so real.
    In her dream, however, Jones had been far more forceful this time, pressing Sarah down hard against the bed, his grip tight on her wrists, taking her roughly, pounding and pounding deep inside her as she surrendered to his desires. Filthy little phrases had spilled from his lips: “Dirty little fuckslut... fucking little cockwhore... slutty little cunt...” She could still hear those words in her head as she came down from her orgasm, the thought of them spurring her on, making her want more.
    And Claude had been there in her dream too, but nowhere near so silent this time. As Jones fucked her with abandon, Claude had been leaning over her, whispering filthy little French phrases into her ear, encouraging her and deliberately exciting her, masturbating eagerly next to them as they fucked, his hand gliding back and forth along his cock, slick wet sounds accompanying each thrust into his hand. At the moment of his orgasm, the dream Claude had shoved his cock in her mouth, spurting his cum onto her tongue, spitting out nasty little words: “Fucking drink it all down, you dirty little bitch...
    Already the details of the dream were drifting away from her as she began to wake, her body still trembling. But certain images and words remained in her head, mixed in with the reality of what had happened the day before.
    In her dream everything had been so very much more intense. Not that the event itself hadn't been completely wonderful, but the dream had turned it into something far more wanton, passionate and dirty.
    And the image was still there with her as she caught her breath, her fingers still firm between her legs, her sex dripping wet, her orgasm not letting go.
    She needed to be fucked like that again. She needed to be taken, to be used by them. She needed to be made to come over and over again.
    Already she was regretting not inviting Jones in with her last night. She needed his cock right now. She needed to be fucked. Jones had sparked something inside her, more than just lust, more than just need. She couldn't get enough of him. What was it about him that was making her feel this way?
    Her sex was slick against her fingers as she continued to caress herself, the sheets damp underneath her, her thighs splayed obscenely wide as her mind replayed the dream in her head.
    That rhythmic, intense pounding of Jones's cock deep inside her... she knew she wanted more of it. The way his hips moved as he drove into her cunt, his body hard between her legs, hard enough to break her.
    And Claude's voice was still in her head, goading her on, pushing her closer and closer to orgasm. Without even thinking she slid her fingers back inside her soaking wet cunt, needing to feel something inside her, needing to be filled thoroughly. It had been so long since someone had fucked her that way, taken her so passionately. She needed to come again. She was craving it.
    “Fuck... fuck this feels good...”
    She spread her thighs wider, surrendering to it, indulging herself, masturbating more urgently. A groan escaped her lips, her fingers pushing deeper into her cunt, finger-fucking herself vigorously, her other hand working at her clit, rubbing and stroking, pushing herself further.
    Wet sounds splashed from her cunt as her fingers penetrated deeper, her body tense, her breath more frantic, needing this orgasm, not wanting to wait.  
    And suddenly in her imagination Claude was there again, masturbating right over her face as Jones fucked her harder. She wanted them both to come, wanted to feel Jones fill her with his cum, wanted to feel his cock surging inside her, wanted to feel that sudden, ecstatic release as his cum started to spurt inside her.
    Sarah moaned again with pleasure. Just the thought of it was taking her closer to orgasm, her fingers moving urgently around her clit, her other hand deep inside her cunt, fucking herself, thinking about him coming inside her, remembering how good it had felt, his hands gripping tightly onto her, his cock ramming so deep into her cunt, taking her as his filthy little girl, his cum pouring inside her.
    “Ohhh god...” she whispered, as though he were right there with her, “fuck me... fuck me...”
    She remembered how her dream had ended again: Claude was groaning intensely, calling her nasty little names, stroking his cock hard and fast over her face, crying out with pleasure as he started to come in hot wet spurts, splashing his cum over her lips, over her cheek... shoving his spurting cock into her mouth... and then Jones forced his cock into her cunt, coming right at the same moment, shooting his cum deep inside her... again... and again...
    “Dirty little fuckslut... fucking little cockwhore... slutty little cunt...”
    “Fucking drink it all down, you dirty little bitch...”

    “Fuck... ohhhhh FUCK yes...
    And suddenly Sarah couldn't take it any more, her orgasm overtaking her, flooding through her, crying out with pleasure:
    Sarah came hard, her body arching up from the bed, her fingers thrusting deep inside her cunt, a wet gush of her juices spilling over her fingertips as her second orgasm pulsated through her, screaming with pleasure, riding the orgasm, never wanting it to end.

* * * *

Sarah parked her ornithopter at King's Cross Ornidome, locking the machine and stowing it in the racks. The Ornidome was packed with crowds of people milling back and forth, some using their own machines, others heading for the huge, stately airships that would carry them across the ocean. Sarah peeled off her goggles and packed them in her belt, threading her way through the people and making her way to the street.
    She was wearing her Steam Agent leathers again and was starting to feel a little more comfortable in them. Maybe it had been the lack of sex over recent months that had dulled her confidence, but since her fun with Jones she was definitely feeling more glamorous.
    But she still couldn't decide what to do about Jones, wondering if she had made a mistake, allowing him that intimacy. She could have solved it by telegraphing him and asking him, but decided that it was better to wait and to talk to him properly. The case was the most important thing here, and she had to stop allowing herself to become distracted from it.
    She also needed a good long talk with Jones about the Madagascar incident. Something had happened to him there, something that had stripped him bare and exposed him, something that had impacted upon his emotions fundamentally. She needed to know that she could rely on him, and that those memories weren't re-awoken by what had happened between them in the hotel room with Claude.
    She took a deep breath and headed towards the Steamrail platforms. Today they would be meeting Oswald Kruger, so she had deliberately dressed in her leathers, aware that Kruger would appreciate how good she looked in them. Smiling to herself, she tugged the zip down to her belly, fully exposing her cleavage. All men loved that.
    As she made her way down to the Steamrail concourse she could see Jones waiting for her. His longcoat was black and trimmed, his shoes were shined and pointed, his shirt was crimson silk and he wore a purple velvet necktie. He looked stunning. Sarah suddenly felt distinctly under-dressed in her catsuit.
    As she approached him, Jones smiled, clearly pleased to see her.
    “I've bought tickets for the Steamrail to St Paul's,” he said, passing her a ticket and slipping his own into his pocket. “We're travelling second class, hope that's okay with you. Helps to keep us incognito.”
    “Like proper spies, you mean?” Sarah grinned at him. “Maybe we'll get embroiled in some devious murder plot on the train. Muscled goons chasing us, a fight on top of the train, mistaken identities, all kinds of shenanigans.”
    Jones raised his eyebrow and smiled. “Let's hope not. We could do without the aggro, quite frankly. If you don't mind me saying so, by the way, you're looking terrific. That catsuit fits you like a glove.”
    Sarah tugged at the crotch. It was riding up again. “You think so? I feel kind of naked in it.”
    “If you were naked I'd definitely notice.” Jones smiled again and led the way down the platform. Sarah followed him, only momentarily glancing at his bottom as they walked. She'd need to keep those impulses under control for a short while. They were going undercover.

* * * *

They were met outside St Paul's Cathedral by Claude. He arrived moments after them, dismounting from a rented steambike and pushing his goggles up over his head, greeting them both with a broad smile and a brief nod of the head.
    Sarah put her morning sexual fantasy to the back of her mind as he led them both into the Cathedral. There was no need for Claude to know that she had been thinking again about their meeting. It was likely that they were being observed by Kruger's men, so there could be no room for any slip-ups.
    A mixture of tourists and locals were filling the Cathedral, pouring in to enjoy the architecture and to take in the breathtaking views inside the building. This was the first time that Sarah had been inside the place and she couldn't help but be impressed by the scale of the building. It dwarfed them, their footsteps and whispers echoing through the galleries, the ceiling impossibly far overhead.
    As they made their way through the crowds, Sarah noticed Claude nod at a gentleman standing by a nondescript doorway. The man looked each way to make sure that no-one was paying them any attention and then opened a battered old wooden door behind him.
    The three agents slipped through the doorway, hearing the gentleman quickly close it behind them. A stone spiral staircase opened ahead, dimly lit and heading down.
    “I'll be taking you down into the crypts,” said Claude, anticipating their question. “Kruger uses them as an occasional meeting place. They're very private and we won't be disturbed.”
    Sarah could feel her nerves twitching as they made their way down the old stone staircase towards the crypt. They would be completely on their own down here, with no back-up likely to come to their rescue, so it was crucial that Kruger believed their story. If anyone made a mistake at this stage it could be very dangerous for all three of them.
    The bottom of the staircase opened up into a cavernous underground crypt area, dimly lit with scattered pools of gaslight. Dust was gathered in dark corners, the vast space unkempt and unloved.
    As they walked by the large tombs, Sarah picked out the names of Lord Nelson, Florence Nightingale, William Blake, Lawrence of Arabia... this looked as though it was once a very fashionable place to be brought to rest.
    Sarah's footsteps echoed as she made her way through the large columns and grimy stone footpaths. She was sure that she could hear rats skittering around the nooks and crannies of the crypt. Jones and Claude strolled quietly behind her.
    At the far end of the crypt, waiting next to a large tomb in honour of Sir Christopher Wren, Kruger and his aides awaited them. The gaslight flickered over their faces, casting long, deep shadows across the vaulted ceilings.
    “Mister Kruger.” Claude broke the silence and nodded at Kruger as they approached.
    Kruger was accompanied by two aides, both of them female, and both clearly up for a fight if necessary. Sarah looked the two women up and down, not showing them any sign of nervousness. She checked where their weapons might be concealed, working out whether or not she'd be able to take them on should circumstances force it.
    “Claude. It's good to see you.” Kruger's quiet voice was laced with a subtle Austrian accent, though his English was very good. His stance was proud and arrogant, his demeanour assured and confident. His head was shaved completely bald, his eyebrows trimmed neatly to a point. “I see you have brought our guests.”
    “Allow me to introduce you to Sarah and Jones,” Claude replied, indicating the two agents. “They have been colleagues of mine for some time. I'm certain they have just the right kind of expertise you've been looking for.”
    Sarah took a brief look around the room. The crypt was large, and she supposed it was possible that Kruger had other people situated down here, but it seemed as though he had come with only the two female assistants. It would be relatively easy for her to pick up Kruger now and stop his operation before it began, but Claude had specifically advised against this. Kruger had supposedly already built up a network to guarantee supply of his 'dream pills', and snatching him now wouldn't necessarily stop that from happening.
    For the moment it was far better to play a waiting game, to allow him to take them into his confidence and use whatever knowledge they were able to gain, in the hope of stopping the shipment before it began to be distributed. With a little luck they should then be able to work their way through his whole network.
    “You have excellent taste in working companions.” Kruger smiled. He took Sarah's hand and pulled it gently to his lips, kissing it softly. Sarah nodded and smiled demurely back at him, pushing her breasts out a little further for emphasis.
    “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Kruger,” she said. “Jones and I have been told a little about your operation by Monsieur Benoit – certainly enough basics to intrigue us. You'll know from our credentials that we're more than capable of helping you to set up the chain of supply and demand that you'll be needing for your new business.”
    “You come with high recommendations,” said Kruger, looking her up and down. “And Mister Jones is your assistant?” He glanced across to Jones, who merely smiled and nodded.
    “Jones handles the financial side of my operation over here, Mister Kruger,” said Sarah. “He's taken a look at your projected figures and has assured me that if we're able to achieve the numbers you hope to attract, the shipment should be very valuable for both of us.”
    “You should consider this first shipment merely the beginning of what this deal can achieve,” said Kruger. “The Dream Pill is a high end treat for the rich and powerful, and it should achieve a healthy income for us both. But it's the implications of the drug that may interest you the most.”
    “Tell me more, Mister Kruger, you're intriguing me.”
    Sarah flashed Kruger a flirtatious smile and took a seat in one of the chairs he had laid out for them, aware that he was looking at her. She crossed her legs, leaning forward to expose more of her cleavage.
    “My Dream Pill is a psychotropic drug, Ms Chance. You'll be aware, I'm sure, that the drug stimulates the imagination centres of the brain, those creative parts of our mind that we use to dream and to fantasise, to enjoy our own thoughts. The drug will take any fantasy that you care to imagine and will make it appear real to you. 'More real than reality', that's our sales pitch.”
    “I'm aware of this, of course,” Sarah replied, “and it's clearly a narcotic that would appeal to the richer, more indolent upper classes here in London. Are you suggesting that the drug has other uses?”
    “I'm only beginning to explore the potential of the medication,” Kruger replied. “It acts in the same way as basic hypnosis, rendering the user incapable of discerning what is real and what is fantasy, allowing them to manipulate their own dreams, or their more craven sexual fantasies. But far more than this, it renders the user highly susceptible to suggestion if administered in the correct proportions.”
    Kruger paced back and forth, clearly eager to discuss the more controversial aspect of his drug, his arms waving demonstrably. “I have still been experimenting with these levels to perfect the dosage, but it is my firm belief that once a person has taken my new drug in the correct dose, I can persuade them to believe anything I choose. They become highly susceptible, you see. So in the right hands, the drug is a means with which to control power, both financially and politically. You understand the potential of such a drug, I'm sure.”
    “Mister Kruger,” Sarah purred, smiling at him, “with such a drug you could take over the world.”
    “Precisely, Ms Chance.” He whirled and looked her right in the eyes, smiling lizard-like and baring his teeth. “Perhaps now you realise why your involvement in this organisation could be of great benefit to you and your contacts. I believe this could be a particularly good financial deal for you.”
    “I think you may be right,” Sarah replied. “Given the circumstances, I'm happy to reach a deal with you right now.”
    Sarah nodded to Jones, and he removed a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket, preparing to write.
    “Pleasure before business, Ms Chance,” Kruger replied, waving the notepad away with minor irritation. “I have heard much of you from Claude but I'd like to get to know you a little better myself if we're to commence a business arrangement. I have organised a party for tomorrow evening and I'd very much like you to attend. You can bring along your assistant if you please. I think you'll find the entertainment to your tastes.”
    Kruger smiled again, slightly unpleasantly. Sarah suppressed a small shudder.
    “I'd be only too delighted to attend, Mister Kruger.”
    “Please,” he smiled, “call me Oswald.” He took her hand again and offered it another soft kiss.
    “Then I'll see you tomorrow evening, Oswald,” she replied. “Give my assistant the details and I'll very much look forward to seeing you.”

* * * *

Sarah, Jones and Claude emerged out onto the street. St Paul's behind them was still filled with a parade of tourists, the streets alive with afternoon traffic. Steamcars and trams chugged to and fro, puffing and grinding as they rattled past the cathedral. One-person spiderwalkers clanked their way along the road, the multiple limbs of the machines scuttling eccentrically, the pilots of the machines wobbling precariously in their seats, cranking levers and tugging knobs, curls of steam spilling out from the machines and into the street.
    A few impatient steamcar drivers honked their horns as they attempted to manoeuvre around the spiderwalkers, complaining loudly at these new-fangled machines. Far above them all, a large quadruped towered over the street, manned by a somewhat nervous-looking policeman, who clearly understood that it wouldn't take a great deal to dislodge him and push the quadruped over should someone feel inclined to give it a try.
    Stalls lined the roadsides, overflowing with food, shoes, handbags, jewellery and sports equipment, their cries drifting along the street to attract passers-by.
    Blinking against the morning sunlight, Claude watched with quiet curiosity as another spiderwalker lumbered by, the goggled pilot waving nonchalantly from his elevated seat.
    “I do believe that went rather well,” Claude said. “Are we all agreed?” He looked over to Sarah and Jones, both of their expressions inscrutable.
    “I'm a little concerned, to be honest,” said Jones, brushing a stray hair from his face. “Kruger didn't ask us anything about the business side of our operation and he deferred all of our questioning completely. I'm sure we're still very much under his scrutiny. We're going to need to make a good impression at this party tomorrow if we want to ensure that we're taken into his confidence.”
    “I've never been very keen on parties.” Sarah was already dreading a round of small talk and polite conversation. “Do we have any idea what kind of people will be there?”
    “Kruger is a hedonist,” said Claude, grinning. “You might have got a hint of that from the way he was looking at you. In common with many people in his position, Kruger is known to have an enthusiastic and deviant attitude to sex. My understanding is that the party is likely to be a smutty affair, to say the least.”
    “Smutty in what way?” Sarah certainly had no intention of having sex with Kruger. That was carrying dedication for her country just a step too far.
    “I attended a number of his parties in Paris,” said Claude. “They were for the most part highly amusing, but certainly not the kind of party I suspect either of you will be accustomed to. Most of them descend into gratuitous orgies rather quickly. Expect the other attendees to be dressed in somewhat bizarre leather costumes and corsets. There is also likely to be a prevalence of submissive behaviour. It's one of Kruger's favourite little kinks.”
    “Submissive behaviour?”
    “Sexual submission.” Claude seemed to enjoy the words, tasting them as he spoke. “Bondage and domination, you know the kind of thing.”
    “I know of it,” said Sarah, blushing a little, “but it's not something I've ever actually indulged in. Will Kruger expect to have sex with me? With us? That's not something I'm prepared to do. We'll have to find another way.”
    Claude laughed softly. “I can tell you with certainty that you're not at all Kruger's type, Sarah. Oswald Kruger is gay. He won't be bothering you in any way, I can assure you.”
    “Then perhaps we can attend without getting drawn into the sexual side of the event?”
    “It's certainly a possibility,” said Claude, seeming to dismiss the notion as they made their way down the street. “I can't imagine that Kruger will force you into doing anything you wouldn't want to do, particularly as he plans to do business with you. It wouldn't be in his interests. I would, however, urge you to be very careful what you eat and drink at the event. If Kruger has brought any samples of his drug with him, I wouldn't be at all surprised to see them circulating at the party. You need to be careful not to take them, for obvious reasons.”
    “That means you too, Jones,” said Sarah. “We need to be very cautious at this party.”