Josh Siegel's mind was working overtime. The woman sitting across the table from him was gorgeous... and was the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the state, Paul Austin, tagged as likely to be the next governor.
Not that she told him that in so many words. She was so obviously nervous that she was having trouble talking to him. Glancing constantly around the room, skittish as a kitten, she had simply said "I'm Jennifer Austin."
That was enough - the name, and the face occasionally seen in the newspaper. Josh wondered if she expected him to recognize her.
No matter. What was important was that her husband's money and reputation as a moral crusader could be worth tens of thousands to him. More.
"My husband is a wonderful man," she was saying, "and very caring. It's just that, well, it's very difficult to say." Her composure was excellent, but her voice was lowered; almost a whisper. "My friend Summer told me you had arranged some... diversions for her which were especially rewarding."
He nodded. Summer Stern was one of his regular clients. He made plenty from her almost legally. She didn't know about his follow-on business.
"What are you looking for?"
"Someone to... spend some time with," she replied. "Smart, willing to listen. Tall would be nice. Blond. Who knows how to have fun."
"I have some candidates in mind who would fit that exactly. Would you like to see photos?"
"Very much," she said in a small voice.
Siegel covertly passed over three small glamour photos, though he hoped that she would choose Dylan Bigelow. Dylan was a recent recruit, but one who had proven his worth many times. He had a great body, but he was also a highly intelligent individual, who had begun to help out with the business. That Mrs. Austin's tastes encompassed Dylan was a fortunate circumstance, as Siegel wanted his best man on this job. He found himself tensing, waiting for her reply.
Jennifer studied the pictures, looking undecided. Finally, she nodded, and tapped Dylan's photo. "Yes. I think I'd like to meet him." She turned the photo over to read his name.
"I know he would enjoy meeting you, Ms. Austin. You understand, of course, that the service is limited to accompanying you in public, dancing, driving, suchlike. If you have any additional... needs, you are free to make private arrangements with Mr. Bigelow. We make no guarantees, nor do we prohibit him from such an arrangement."
"I understand, Mr. Siegel."
They agreed on time and location; Jennifer blanched slightly at the price, but accepted, and took her departure.
Siegel watched her leave, disappointed only that the deal would not be consummated for a few days. This video could be the pride of his collection, surpassing even Billie Lea's. And lucrative...
He locked the office door, thinking of Billie. He smiled to himself - yes, he had good reason to celebrate.
Popping the video into the player, he turned on the big-screen TV, lit a cigarette, and relaxed. Damn, but Billie was good. She enjoyed herself so much... she should still be thanking him for the service, not cursing him for making her pay. It must have been worth every penny to have reached the heights she did in that one session. She was so hungry for it...
He watched as the dark-haired young guy lay beside her, getting his head between her legs. Billie tried at first to stay aloof and let the kid service her, but became so aroused that she grabbed him and started sucking, overwhelming the poor kid, who had obviously not expected to be rewarded for his efforts, not yet. Billie sobbed as she got more turned on, brow flushed and glistening pinkly, her small cries interspersed with slurping sounds.
Moaning heavily, Billie was trying hard to take more of the young guy inside her throat. Siegel imagined himself as the dark-haired guy, as she yowled like a cat, losing control, then dragged him into orgasm. The kid's leg, involuntarily tensing, moved out of the camera shot, giving a perfect view of Billie's beatific expression as his cock started to pulse. Fluid dripped from Billie's lips, and her large breasts quivered as her whole body shook.
Twice, Siegel had called Billie while watching the tape, telling her everything he was watching her do. She called him sick, or worse, and hung up. The power he felt was almost as good as the video. But not as good a the money...
Because Billie Lea was a very successful country singer, and, while she could obviously be a star of a very different kind of entertainment, this video could destroy her clean-cut image, and finish her career.
The stage was set. Dylan was prepped; he knew where each of the hidden cameras and mikes was placed. Siegel was not going to be frustrated by inadequate camera positioning. He was recording each view separately, and would mix the results himself.
Positioned next-door, with the tape decks, he was dozing when the door alarm woke him. He started the tape and lit a cigarette. He wiggled the camera controls, testing each one for at least the third time.
Jennifer looked nervous. Dylan plied her with good champagne. She still kept her distance, sitting demurely on the couch, a few inches from him.
Dylan took her hand and raised her fingers to his lips. He kissed and sucked her fingertips. Jennifer watched him wide-eyed, fearful expression becoming one of stark need. Taking his hands between her fingers, she drew them away from his face. Her eyes fixed in his, she laid his hands against her breasts.
Reaching out to touch his face, she stroked his cheek, then drew him to her. Their lips met, and slowly, gingerly, they kissed. Jennifer sighed, and pressed her face against Dylan's, and her chin swayed as she tried to devour him. Hands behind his head, she held him tightly to her, beginning to gasp with desire.
Dylan began unfastening her blouse. She pulled back from his lips, her expression once more apprehensive. She held his eyes, her body quivering with - what, fear? Desire? Anticipation? She allowed him to slide her blouse off, exposing a thick bra. Closing her eyes for a moment, she seemed to be seeking strength, then when she opened them, she smiled shyly at Dylan, nodding almost imperceptibly.
Reaching behind her, Dylan unhooked her bra; perfectly framed by the camera, he slipped it forwards, revealing heavy but firm breasts, with large, erect nipples. He slid his thumbs over them, then stroked the nipples with his fingers.
Jennifer leaned forwards, mouth open. Before Dylan's head blocked the view, Siegel saw her tongue slightly extended to meet his. Her face moved slowly against Dylan's for a time, as his hands kneaded her marvelous breasts, then she wrapped her arms around him, her movements demanding.
Gasping with urgent need, she grabbed at his shirt, unfastening most of the buttons, but ripping at least two off in nervous eagerness. Dylan's fingers were still working her breasts, stretching and squeezing. Then he dropped his face to them, sucking hard on her nipples as she held his head to her chest. Her face wore its uneasy expression again as he reached beneath her skirt and pulled off her panties, but soon she started to glow with delight as he fingered her pussy.
Lips parted, she was flushed and breathing heavily as Dylan sucked on her breasts. She moaned, moving against his hand, her fingers tightening on his hair as her passion rose.
Then Dylan pushed her legs apart, and squatted on the floor. Lifting her skirt, he pressed his face between her thighs. Jennifer's eyes were large, and soon she started bucking against his head, moaning with each movement, her whole body flushed as they found the rhythm that would take her to ecstasy.
Dylan expertly kept her from coming, backing away at crucial moments. She writhed against him, begging him to finish the job. Instead he licked her slowly, and unfastened his pants. When she cried for release, he stood and grabbed her thighs, dragging her to the edge of the bed. He entered her, pulling on her thighs until he had penetrated deep within. Then, instead of moving, he took a finger and lightly tickled her clit. She yelped, rocking her head from side to side as she grabbed at the blankets on the bed, trying to get enough support to move herself against him.
He again brought her to the edge of orgasm and stopped short. This time he released her, caught her arms and lifted her against him. She grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her by the ass, driving her against him. Supporting her lightly on the edge of the bed, he rammed their bodies together, forcing her into climax after glorious, noisy climax. As Jennifer beat weakly on his back to stop him, he pressed her into another release, grunting as he permitted himself to join her.
Siegel wished he had had the foresight to bring a change of clothes.
Siegel sat across from a nervous-looking Jennifer Austin. He had not told her why he wanted her here. He brandished a remote control, and the TV behind him sprang to life.
She could see herself clearly; naked, facing the camera, sitting on Dylan's hands at he held her pussy against his chin. White-faced, she saw glimpses of his tongue exploring her, and heard the crescendo of sensual sounds as her body on the screen shuddered into overload...
Siegel paused the tape; she saw her mouth on the TV tube frozen open, face flushed and damp, a picture of wanton desire. She closed her eyes. The TV image remained as she broke down in tears.
She got herself under control. Gripping the arms of her chair, she said tightly, "I see." She paused for a moment. "How much?"
He named a figure. She struggled to retain her composure.
Shuddering slightly, she said, "Are you going to suggest some... alternative method of payment?"
"No, Mrs. Austin. However, if you wish to offer something?"
She stood. "I don't think so. I will be in touch."
Siegel popped the video and placed it on the desk. "Take this with you, if you like. I have copies. Share it with your husband. Perhaps he could learn something."
Grabbing the tape and slammed it into her purse, she left.
The call came the next day. It was not what he expected.
"No, Mr. Siegel. I won't be a party to your nasty scheme." Then just the dialtone.
The problem with blackmail is that if information becomes public it loses its value. It must be carefully managed. Siegel had faced this issue before; seeing her reputation begin to crumble had convinced all of the very few recalcitrant victims.
A few well-tailored phone calls set the rumor mills turning; a small number of privileged, influential individuals would be treated to private screening.
The strange events began over the next few days. First was the rumor that Paul and Jennifer Austin were separating. This was reported by several local news outlets, promptly denied by both Austins. Then reports of a lurid affair; the denials fueled additional speculation.
Then came the revelation that steamy video clips of Jennifer were available on the Internet. After a public disavowal with a commitment to "get to the bottom of this ugly slander", the Austins fell silent.
Reporters were generally in agreement that Paul Austin's political career was in ruins. When the Austins announced a press conference, most speculation was that Jennifer would admit to the affair and announce plans to divorce, though pundits doubted this would save her husband's career.
Siegel watched the broadcast nervously. The rumors had gotten out of hand. He had no idea how the tape had become available on the Net. He checked his master, it was still intact. Surely Jennifer wouldn't have leaked her own copy of the tape? Could it have been stolen? Or could one of his friends have taped the one private viewing of the video? After seeing carefully masked stills from the video in the newspapers, he had no doubt it was the real thing.
At the press conference, Paul Austin was seated beside his wife. Unexpectedly, Jennifer, rather than Paul, stood, and began to speak.
"My husband and I wish to apologize to everyone who has been upset by these sordid events. We have ourselves been through a very difficult time, as I am sure you can imagine. It is a testament to Paul's loyalty and faith to me that he stood by me. He has not doubted me, even before we had the slightest idea of what was happening."
There was something amiss with Jennifer's presentation. Siegel couldn't put his finger on what it was, but Jennifer seemed subtly different from his meetings with her. More confidence? That was certainly true; she was far more in command of herself than she had been with him. There was something else, though...
She raised her voice slightly. "We have - we have all been victims of an elaborate fraud. Obviously, the target is my husband. Some details will probably be for the police and the courts to determine, but because one brave individual has come forth, we now know what happened, and who was behind these vile events."
The noise level in the room rose. Jennifer held up her hand. "We'll answer questions in a moment. Please allow me to introduce Annie Sands."
A young woman sitting off to the side stood, and stepped briskly over to the podium. The level of murmuring increased again. In one devastating moment, Siegel knew why.
She spoke with none of the diffidence she had shown on the two occasions he had met her.
"My name is Annie Sands. I am an actress. I was hired to appear in a private movie. A sexually explicit movie. That is the video which you have probably all seen. I had no idea it would be used in this way. When I learned of this I immediately contacted Ms. Austin.
"As you can see, Ms. Austin and I resemble one another quite closely. However, if you pay attention to the video clips the difference is apparent."
Jennifer had to wait for relative quiet before continuing. "Thanks to Ms. Sands, we know the identity of the perpetrator of this monstrous fraud. We have confirmed that the rumors also originated with him. At this moment, our lawyers are filing suit against Mr. Joshua Siegel for defamation of character and character assassination."
Questioning was vigorous and thorough. Annie Sands especially developed a rapport with the press.
"Who is the hunk?"
"My partner, Dylan Bigelow. Do you want his number?"
"Miss Sands, are there any distinguishing features visible on the video?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact there are. But if you want to compare them, I'll need a note from your wife."
When the laughter was dying down, the questioner yelled, "I'm not married!"
"In that case, dinner and flowers!" retorted Annie, and the room erupted.
The press conference drew to a close in an upbeat mood. The sympathies of the reporters were clearly with the Austins. One career may have been saved. If Annie could build on her new fan club in the media, another may have been born.
And one was clearly over.
Siegel had suffered another shock with the mention of Dylan's name. Dylan had access to everything. If he had been part of the conspiracy, Siegel was certainly ruined.
He checked his private video collection. All labeled, but when he tried a couple at random, they were blank. Same with the masters in the safe. He tried the Jennifer Austin - no, he reminded himself, Annie Sands - tape. It was fine. Of course, it would be. They knew that he would be so enamored of this new acquisition that he wouldn't notice that the others were blank.
No doubt that in addition to Dylan knowing where to find skeletons in Siegel's closets, he had also planted some damning evidence.
The naked bodies of Annie Sands and Dylan Bigelow were joining enthusiastically on the screen, Annie's distinguishing marks clearly on display. Oblivious to the growing urgency of their cries, Siegel stared at the ceiling, wondering when the lawyers would arrive.
On the TV screen, Annie and Dylan cried out in mutual release, Annie's flushed face raised slightly, her full breasts flattened against his chest. She sighed, shudders, finally relaxing against him, head lowered to his shoulder.
The watcher, aroused, ejected the tape, her nipples hard beneath her thin silk robe. That was quite a performance. Annie had perfect as the frustrated wife.
It had taken a year in preparation. A year since she had seen Annie in an X-rated video, familiarity nagging at her. In the year since realizing the resemblance between Annie and Jennifer Austin, she had recruited Annie, who introduced her to Dylan; gotten Dylan in place, where he was trusted. It had been an expensive year, setting up this operation, while still making payments to son-of-a-bitch Siegel. But she didn't regret the cost.
It was time to start calling the other women whose lives had been destroyed by Siegel, to give them the good news that their ordeal was over. Tomorrow, though. She had one more thing to do today.
She looked through the stack of videos on her table. Selecting the one labeled "Billie Lea", she slid it into the VCR.
Loosening her robe, shivering slightly in anticipation, she settled back to watch herself give the greatest performance of her life.