Fallen Too Far Read online

  He spent those six months preparing the next stage of growth in his vocation.

  The number of streetwalkers had diminished drastically. Real estate values and subsequent taxes were too high for owners to tolerate what they used to. The industrial parks of six years ago were now condominium complexes. He was going to have to use escorts, and that required a new set of skills.

  He had to learn how to create phony id’s so he could get credit cards for payments. He had to learn how to be hidden on-line. It wasn’t beyond his abilities. The bonus was that he could pick and choose his projects—so many of them posted photos.

  He didn’t have to worry about pimps though. That had been a concern in his last stage. He read their ads carefully and was able to discern the most likely ones who worked alone. It was pretty simple, actually—all he did was ask if they could bring a friend. Those who replied that they could, he knew were part of a stable. Those who said no were solo workers.

  He picked out motels that were not busy and were outside the city. He always chose a room at the end of the motel. The women would always arrive by taxi.

  He would pay them immediately. That always relaxed them. He would offer them a drink. Those who accepted were unconscious in minutes. Those that declined he had sex with and sent home. Most of them accepted the glass of wine from what they thought was a sealed bottle.

  The only risk was bundling them into his pickup. But that risk only lasted a couple of seconds. He always had his truck backed into the parking spot. After they passed out, he would go to the truck, open the passenger door and the interior hatch. He would scoop up their unconscious forms and carry them out in an upright position. The hooker would look like a drunk being helped into the truck if anyone noticed. It was only a matter of sliding her through the hatch and he was done.

  He had only one mishap. It was his third project.

  She called herself Annik and she was beautiful.

  She came to his room and refused any refreshment, so he had to have sex with her.

  She was the most beautiful one of his projects that he had ever seen. She could have easily been a model. He decided to break his rules as soon as he orgasmed. He was going to keep this one, and keep her for a long, long time. She would be his masterpiece.

  After they finished, while she was dressing. He tried to engage her in conversation. She looked at him strangely, in spite of his best attempts at charm.

  In an attempt to distract her he started to babble on about God, religion and holiness. It was the only time he deviated from the plan. It didn’t work, she went to the door. He grabbed her by the hair and tried to bounce her head against it.

  But she was fit. She twisted and her shoulder took the force. His balls took her kick.

  She scrambled out the door of the room and ran towards the office two hundred feet away. He went after her, but saw a taxi dropping people off and retreated back to his room. He had to get out of there. He was putting his coat on when his door was kicked open.

  “Tough fucking guy, huh?” the man said. He was in his late forties, and wouldn’t be a problem. But Paul smartened up enough to realize that if he took the guy out, he’d only have more complications.

  “I was only trying to save her soul mister.” he said, holding up his hands.

  The guy waded into him. He was actually pretty good. He threw a punch into Paul’s abdomen, then hit him on the side of the head. Paul went supine on the floor.

  “No more. Please. I’m sorry.” Paul whimpered.

  “I see you around again, asshole, I’m not going to stop.” The guy left the room.

  Paul jumped up and saw the guy get behind the wheel of a taxi. That Annik bitch was in the front seat. Was he her pimp? No, he couldn’t be. He was just some random Samaritan or something. Paul let it go. Lesson learned. But if he ever came across that Annik bitch again… he wouldn’t be reverent, that was for sure.

  He’d be nasty.

  It would take her a very, very long and painful time to die.

  He dressed and left the motel, chiding himself for getting off plan.

  Chapter 5

  Annik sat up in bed, stretched her arms with a yawn, and shut her alarm clock off. She got in later than usual the night before, so gave herself an extra half hour of sleep. The clock showed nine thirty.

  An hour later, she was in her home office. She had to recap notes on Bill from the night before and do the book keeping for the appointment. Tom had told her that a lot of success in business was making habits out of the small things, which when added up, became important. He was right—each of her clients now had files that reminded her of their likes, dislikes and any comments they had made that she thought was important. Doing the detail work while it was fresh gave her information for later appointments.

  After finishing up Bill’s file, she checked her email.

  There was an e-mail from him, thanking her, commenting that she had created an experience, a memory for him that he would always cherish. He then asked when he could see her again as he was returning to Toronto in a week’s time. She frowned. That wasn’t a good idea, and she had laid that out to him when they first communicated. She wrote:

  Good morning Bill:

  I’m so glad that you were pleased with our encounter last night. You are quite a lover and very much a gentleman-that pleased me. Of course I would love to see you again, but not for a month. I'm referring to the fact that you may start to develop feelings for me, which would ultimately become painful for both of us to have to deal with. For that reason, I never see a new client, a new Patron until a month has passed after our first encounter. I'm looking forward to hearing from you again. In a month.

  Annik

  He was a good guy. She was obligated to keep the emotional attachment in the proper context, dammit. She smiled to herself; yes, she would have made a good therapist. No chance that the Ann kid from last night would do anything like this—if anything, she’d be asking if it could be sooner? Or ask him to send her a ‘gift’ for her to remember him by?

  Oh! Tom sent an email. She opened and read it.

  She sat back and sighed, still looking at the email. The first part sounded like he missed her and wanted to share the excitement of New York, like she was special to him. But the last part was impersonal, so business-like. True, he was a client but…She had broken a cardinal rule and fallen for him. Not that she’d ever admit it to him. He was a successful businessman and what was she--an Escort, a woman whose time and body was rented by the hour. They were friends and that was the most she could hope for.

  She gave her head a shake and replied she was free on Saturday and looked forward to seeing him. She blocked out all of Saturday (it was Tom, after all), checked her schedule for the rest of the week, and planned out her day.

  Saturday evening found her primping in the mirror, getting ready to meet Tom at Pandora’s. She posed to check the effect, first facing forward and pivoting on her toes to check the side view. The ivory colored corset contrasted and accentuated her almond complexion. Sexy panties, thigh highs and shoes of a matching color completed the outfit. It cost more than she would normally spend but she bought it for Tom, so it was worth it. With her long dark hair, hanging loose down her back, breasts spilling over the cups of the corset and shapely legs shimmering in the white stockings, she would turn heads when she walked in. That would please him. He always got a kick out of other men ogling her—wishing they were him.

  Smiling, she applied the glossy, red lipstick. There was only one guy she wanted to impress and that was Tom. She pictured his face, the cerulean blue eyes, edged with laugh lines, his Roman nose and lips which were usually turned up in that crooked smile. How many times had she kissed those lips and how many more times did she want to? Well, maybe a lifetime. He turned heads as well.

  She glanced at her watch and hurried to the closet for her long woolen overcoat. It was autumn and chilly but she was wearing it as much for discretion as warmth. Many of the women who attended
Pandora’s changed when they got there; she preferred a little more theatrics at the coat check. She left her apartment and as usual, Eddie was waiting.

  Her face broke into a grin as he got out and opened the passenger door of the cab for her.

  “Hi Annik. How much is under that coat?” He kissed her cheek before she slid into the car’s warm interior. Her nostrils filled with the sweet aroma of the spearmint chewing gum that Eddie liked.

  “Hey Eddie. Not much.” They both laughed. “I’m meeting Tom at Pandora’s. How’s Shelley?” She turned to look at him as he pulled out into traffic.

  “Good. Busy as hell with the granddaughter. She spoils that kid rotten. But what the hell. It’s her first and only one at this point.” He glanced across at her, a grin on his face.

  He continued to tell her about his granddaughter, Emily for the rest of the trip to Pandora’s. Guess Shelley wasn’t the only one smitten with Emily. She was a sweetie, for sure. As happy as she was for Eddie and Shelley, she looked away. As each day of her life passed, mother and grandmother became less and less likely. Marriage and a family were probably not in the cards for her. It happened for some Escorts but she wasn’t taking it to the bank.

  When they arrived at Pandora’s she leaned over the front seat and kissed Eddie’s cheek. She dropped her fare and a generous tip on the seat next to him before easing herself out.

  As Eddie pulled away, she took a moment to admire the building. How many times had she come here? Dozens if not more. And yet… coming here was never commonplace for her.

  She stood and put her hands on her waist looking at it for what felt like the first time.

  The building was large. It had to be, to accommodate the two to three hundred guests for Event Nights. It was three stories tall and built of brick. A final tower with large glass windows was perched on top of the copper mansard roof. That would one day be her office. Over each window was a stained glass transom, each one glowing golden from the light inside.

  She could hear the murmur of the crowd mingling with background music.

  She smiled. God, she loved this place.

  Four wide granite stone steps led up to a golden oak door framed by white, sculpted woodwork.

  As she approached the entrance, the Major opened the door. He was resplendent in tight leather pants, chest bare except for the leather strap harness that crossed it. It was hard to tell he was pushing sixty. He was always present at Pandora’s when she visited. Was he the owner?

  “Annik! Glad you could make it. Tom’s already here. I think he’s at the bar.” The Major leaned forward and hugged her.

  “Major. How are you? You must be busy tonight from the sounds in the other room. I’ll make my own way to the bar.”

  She checked her coat and walked into the Ballroom. Chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling filled it with a glow. Already the hall was dense with people. She scanned the crowd with a sense of almost satisfaction. Each woman was wearing an alluring ‘notice me’ outfit. Her own corset was far from the most daring. Each man, even the submissives, was dressed to impress.

  She returned Daphne and Lola’s wave from across the room. Daphne was spectacular in a vinyl body suit, her long, lean body in sharp contrast to Lola’s petite curves. Lola, kneeling next to Daphne, waved her fingers in greeting. Jessica and Craig were in a corner of the room engaged in a conversation with a couple—two men, one was dressed in leather pants and the other was in drag.

  She felt eyes watching her and turned. Tom was standing at the bar. She walked toward him. It was crazy. Why did he always have this effect on her? Her heart pounded in her chest, fluttery like a teenager. He was the only one she trusted enough to sub for. With other men, she was The Mistress doling out pain and humiliation. With Tom, there was the freedom to just be. He was the Master and the only man capable of making her orgasm.

  She felt the smile on her face as she noticed the dimples in his cheeks. Was he as happy to see her as she was seeing him? Her chin dropped, approaching with respect. Was it more than just a friendship? She stood in front of him and he lifted her face with his finger. Her knees turned to rubber when their eyes met and she saw that smile. If Apollo came down from Olympus, he would smile the same way. Her lips parted slightly as he softly kissed her.

  “Annik you’re stunning. You should wear this color more. It suits you.” His breath and lips brushed her ear. Her body tingled for the next part of the ritual. She lowered her head and lifted her hair off her neck. The leather collar was cold on her bare skin. After he finished fastening the buckle, she raised her head but did not look into his eyes. She was now his, wanting to please him and do whatever he asked of her.

  Whatever was required.

  “Would you care for a drink my pet?” How could someone be so commanding and yet speak so softly?

  “Moscow mule please.” He motioned to the bartender and her drink appeared. He must have ordered it as soon as she came through the front door. She hadn’t had one in months, and yet he knew. Before she did. How could she not be in love with him? As she sipped the icy vodka, she slipped further into role of Master Tom’s sub for the night.

  Before they could speak again, the Major announced that the dinner theater would be starting in five minutes.

  She watched him wave greetings to recent arrivals as he turned to leave for the dining theater. She knew her role and followed wordlessly. Now that the collar was on, she would have to be given leave to speak. He reached his hand behind him and she took it, staying one pace behind.

  Not that she minded too much. The view was great. His black leather pants and the tailored white shirt were as alluring for her as her corseted ensemble had been for him. She inhaled the sharp, woodsy scent of his cologne that mingled with his masculine chemistry. So enticing and familiar. She gave a start when her hand was grasped. She turned, seeing Jessica and Craig. She turned back to Tom, eyebrows raised.

  With a tilt of his head he gave her leave.

  “Jessica! Craig! How are you?” She smiled and saw Tom turn to shake Craig’s hand and kiss Jessica’s cheek.

  “Hey if you aren’t with anyone here, would you like to join us at our table?” Tom asked.

  Jessica glanced at Craig. She was average height, about 5’4” before she put her heels on. She had a nice figure. Her red hair was pinned up for this evening. There wasn’t anything spectacular about her appearance; she was a good looking woman in her mid thirties. Until you looked at her face. Jessica Rogers was blithe. Her joy of life was in every expression. She was the most vivacious woman Annik had ever met. You could not help but have your own heart lift when you were with her.

  Craig was textbook tall, dark and handsome. They were such a great looking couple. What cinched it was the way they looked at each other.

  “Sure Tom. We’d love to join you guys.” Craig leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “As usual, it’s great seeing you, Annik.” The four of them sat at the table on the dining platform close to the stage. A young woman dressed in a short white toga, bare breast jiggling slightly with her movements, approached. She brought a brown bottle tucked into an ice bucket.

  “I hope you like the wine. I pre-ordered it.” Tom said as he poured it into everyone’s glass. “A toast. To a delightful night at Pandora’s.” He raised his glass and smiled at the women.

  Jessica and Annik shared a glance as they waited for the men to finish. “May I?” Jessica asked Craig. He nodded and she lifted her glass.

  “To good friends.” Jessica smiled at Tom and Annik.

  The server appeared once more with plates of salad and a tray of appetizers. Annik placed her napkin in her lap and turned to the stage. The Major was showcased in white light, welcoming everyone and announcing the first act of the evening. It was burlesque. She nibbled her salad and watched women in a chorus line throw their legs high into the air dancing to a lively tune. Frothy, white crinolines showed above their black, above the knee, stockings. A man in a loud, checked sports coat appeared on s
tage. The music stopped when he cracked one liners to each woman. One acted shocked, another added her own risqué line to the laughing approval of the audience.

  She glanced at Tom when his hand stroked her thigh softly. It was an absent minded gesture. A master stroking a favored pet, or a familiar caress between a couple who had been together for years? It was… comfortable. Her eyebrows rose. She was probably reading too much into this simple gesture. Again.

  The act ended and the dishes were cleared. Warm plates of beef tenderloin, whipped potatoes and an assortment of steamed vegetables with a drizzling of an almond Bearnaise sauce were placed before them. The aroma was enticing. The Major appeared once more and announced the second act.

  Her attention was drawn to the stage when music played a sultry mid-eastern melody. This was different. A woman wearing the costume of a Hindu goddess appeared. Multi colored, gauzy veils twirled about as she spun in time to the beat. Next, a bare-chested man leapt onto stage silently beseeching the sprightly woman to come to him. It was the dance of Parvati and Vishnu, gods of love. She danced seductively around him, always just out of reach. After trying to embrace her many times he became still. Parvati must come to him. Vishnu surrendered his strength and was left vulnerable to her enticing wiles. They came together and kissed; their movements so sensual it was hypnotic.

  So caught up in the dance on stage and also acutely aware of Tom’s proximity, Annik was barely able to finish her meal. The curtain fell, ending the act. She sipped her wine as Tom and Craig discussed an article in the New York Times. Of course it was Craig’s piece and of course Tom teased him about being such a bleeding heart liberal. She turned to Jessica and saw her roll her eyes at the men.

  She let her eyes wander over the great room and stage as they were setting up for the final act. This was probably her favorite space in the building. The walls rose over fifteen feet and arched into the ceiling. The wall sconces along each wall were filigreed, each bulb behind a golden shade.