Wet Work – 2

My target was to be a woman, possibly two women if I could arrange it. I cannot explain why but somehow I was more comfortable with that than had it been a man. There is a vast trade in substandard drugs, even substances like chalk sold as real drugs, packaged as if they were the genuine article. Millions suffer or die as a consequence of this vile trade. Katherine Eleanor Porter-Haynes had been the product of a woman of high English birth and an American philanthropist whose vast wealth had derived from the slave-trading of earlier English generations and tobacco growing thereafter. Philanthropist he may have been but he was a cruel man and Katherine had inherited that cruelty. She was, by all the accounts I read, a sociopath and possibly a psychopath too, willing to make money by any means. Outwardly respectable, she moved in high circles on all continents. She holidayed with Princesses of several royal houses, dined with oligarchs, hosted parties for ambassadors and ministers. She was glamorous and beautiful. She had a lover who was a successful actress although I now knew that her success was largely as a result of Katherine’s threats to film producers and directors. We all know the Puzo story of the horse’s head in the bed. It could have been drawn from Katherine’s real life. It was said that she had done bahis siteleri dreadful, cruel things to a ballet dancer who had refused to perform for her. Murders were attributed to her but her wealth, power and connections kept her free from justice. The actress, Sally Horne, may have been her lover but her partner in crime was another woman, American and of extraordinary wealth but she lacked Katherine’s beauty. She was a sour woman with facial skin like a prune, a lizard’s eyes. I read three accounts of how she had masturbated while she watched Katherine commit her vile assaults. Her name was Georgia Pine, fifty years old and with wealth coming originally from the airline industry but sustained by her participation in Katherine’s activities. Their public business was a successful and international company which traded in apparently legitimate pharmaceuticals. The file was a catalogue of crime; crime unpunished and unpunishable; sanctioned by senior officials in the developing countries where she and Georgia bribed officials, supplied whores of both sexes and drugs to Kings and Presidents and where that didn’t work, sent armed thugs to ‘persuade’ them. I needed no persuasion to convince me that my mission was on the side of the angels. A number of people visited that house during my three weeks. I was taught canlı bahis siteleri a little self defence, some ‘tradecraft,’ designed to allow me to avoid surveillance and to communicate when necessary. I was taught about my new identity. I was given my back story. I have always been good at absorbing information and I thanked heaven for that. There was so much to absorb. Jay was at my side for most of it and in my bed or I in hers every night afterwards. I grew to love her, depend upon her. It was, of course, as planned but it would have happened anyway. She was a wonderful lover and taught me a lot, some of which I will share with you but later. How I was to get close enough to Porter-Haynes and Pine to complete my mission will become clear. * I got off the plane at Dubai airport; which is really a shopping mall with planes dangling off it. I had flown economy class to Paris and taken a train to Nice. From Nice I hired a car up into the hills of Provence and stayed for a couple of days with Jay who had arrived by other means. Another woman whose name I never knew had briefed me on my identity and she was there to prepare me for what she called my ‘jaunt.’ Jay’s main contribution was to stop me getting nervous and she seemed to find unbridled and hectic sex to be her favourite method. It worked for me too. canlı bahis I had not been troubled by the journey but Jay was concerned that I needed to de-stress before going into the field. She told me to go the bedroom, undress and lie face down on the bed and wait for her. I did as instructed, lying face down on a large, white towel that was spread across the bed and I must have drifted off to sleep. I didn’t hear her enter the room. I was startled when her hands, slippery with oil, began to massage my shoulders. She didn’t speak, but her strong fingers worked the tension from my muscles, down my back, along each arm, over my buttocks and down my legs. ‘Turn over, Mel.’ Rolling onto my back I saw her for the first time since she had entered the room. She was wearing a smile and nothing more. Her hair shone in the half-light. Her nipples were proud and erect. She placed a piece of heavy silk over my eyes. She leant in to kiss me and then her hands began again. Moving to be at my head she massaged my scalp and neck, then over my arms and back up and, deliciously, over my breasts. She leant over so she could reach my belly and flanks and her nipple dangled close to my mouth. I lifted my head slightly to kiss it but she moved away too quickly. Now she stood beside me and her hands roamed over my legs, from ankles to thighs. My legs opened involuntarily and I was rewarded as her fingers stroked up the insides of my thighs. One finger insinuated itself into me as another stroked my clitoris which by now was peeping out from under its hood.