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Message-ID: <35900asstr$1017263403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: james@aol.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 27 Mar 2002 07:02:56 CST
Subject: {ASSM} NEW  Ambition   - A Power Broker Story
Date: Wed, 27 Mar 2002 16:10:03 -0500
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AMBITION  -  A POWER BROKER STORY

An entertainment for Adults only. By James Anderton.


The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, 
and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an 
adult, or reading sex stories upset you, do not read any 
further.


Previous stories in the POWER BROKER Series are:

A Crude Business
The Ambassador's wife
Vengeance


PROLOGUE:  AUTUMN 1987 - ENGLAND

Smoke drifted lazily into the air from the end of Gerald Knebworthy's
huge Cigar.  Before him, a select group of his brightest students, all
mellowed by several glasses of good brandy, eager to share with him
the conclusions of their private project.  It had started as a
post-grad joke, three years ago- "Write a business plan to create an
organisation which will be the most powerful organisation in the world
within 30 years". 

Paul Hegarty rose to his feet.

"As Managing Director Designate", he started with a big grin, "I will
introduce you to The GODS Corporation,
Global Organisation for the Destruction of Society,  bringer of
pestilence to the world's major powers".

His audience chuckled, as he launched into his presentation.

"First, what sort of enterprise? Political?, Industrial?, Financial?
......".

Knebworthy sat forward in his seat.  The guys had delivered ....

"... only criminal certain enough, .......need a real business plan
...."

Knebworthy's mouth fell open.  The plan being proposed was exactly the
proposition he had come up with, but in a level of detail he had only
dreamed about.

"....need seed capital,  Rashchid's father could........ operating
cash from drugs? prostitution?..."

Knebworthy smiled to himself.  This was going to work if they all
bought into it.

"...all-pervasive power is essential ... political .... financial
..... violence .... coercion ...."

"What about the competition? You don't think people like the Mafia
will just let you take over their path do you?"  Knebworthy smiled to
himself.  Typical of Dan Hegarty to put his brother on the spot.

"No, of course not bro.  We need new suppliers,  new customers,
niches, like these......"

Two hours later, Knebworthy, the newly elected CEO of GDS Ltd (GODS
had sounded too pretentious when they discussed going "legit")
dismissed his board and set them loose on the world.

			=====================================


AMBITION  -  A POWER BROKER STORY


"I don't care, Charles, we have to get rid of him. this is the third
vote this month we've lost because of his bloody principles. If he's
re-elected in May, I will probably resign myself."

"Stop worrying, Gregory, I've asked Dan here to do a little research."

Dan Hegarty looked up from his seat on the small sofa.

"I'd keep worrying, Gregory, if I were you. We've been over every
aspect of his life, private, public, everythings clean. He, and indeed
his wife Marion, have strong beliefs, go to church, and are totally
principled about everything they do. Furthermore, they're well
respected, loved even by their constituency members. These are no Neal
and whatsit Hamiltons. Even if we fitted them up, the voters would
support them.
I don't know what we can do short of a car crash."

"OK," Sir Gerald boomed, I get the picture, but he has to go. Set
Steve on him."

"What do you expect Steve to do. He can't kill him."

"No he can't, but Steve is creative, he'll think of a way".

			====================================


"I'm sorry Julia, the committee has decided that Mr Collingham will
stand for this constituency in the by-election.  The committee wish
you to know that they have the highest regard for the excellent work
you have put in to helping this party over the past ten years, and
they hope you will be able to continue.  They also wish you to know
that they would be willing to reconsider you in the future."

Julia Roberts gave the Chairman a long, hard, look. Nodding to him
knowingly, she slowly stood up and headed for the door. Anger boiled
within her. She had invested all her Post-grad life to this
constituency and now she could have to wait for the rest of her life.
Something else must be done. She turned back into the room.

"Look, Bill, if Mr Collingham gets elected, it could be years, or
never before I get another chance here, so I have to look elsewhere. I
know you have been one of my biggest supporters, so I really need some
advice."

"You need a sponsor, in a word. Someone who can mentor you, and look
after your future. There are very few such people around, and the ones
there are are not easy to get to. You also need to know that they are
often  VERY demanding."

"So where do I go?"

"Regretfully, Julia, I really don't know but I'll keep my ear to the
ground. If you need a reference call me, but otherwise, I don't know
how I can help you.

			=====================================

Steve Washington sat back in the lounger by his pool, wearing nothing
but a white towel draped across his midriff and a big white smile
which almost split his handsome black face in two.

"I just love it when a plan comes together," he mused, unable to
remember the film where he had first heard it. He had been thinking
about Sir Geralds problem for several days and he now knew how to deal
with it. He tapped a stream of numbers into the phone.

"Samuel? Steve! How you doing?"

On the other end of the phone, President Samuel Mwamba of Gujanga was
delighted to hear from Steve. They had been friends for years at
University, and were now partners in one of the most lucrative
businesses in the world. Samuel provided the drugs which fuelled a
string of highly profitable businesses across the world. GDS (Formally
GODS - but that had sounded too pretentious when they went "legit")
had been created as an umbrella company for activities in
entertainment, leisure, manufacture, and services: all euphemisms for
vice. Indeed it had been so successful that it was now a global
conglomerate in it's own right. As head of Marketing, Steve Washington
had provided access to Customers and Markets alike.

"I need a favour, Samuel, I was hoping to borrow Tembo for a couple of
months, only I don't want anyone to know he is in England. Is he
available? and if so, do you reckon we can smuggle him in as
diplomatic baggage?"

"I'm sure he will be OK, let me know your arrangements, and I'll sort
it all out".

Steve Washington outlined his plan ...........

			=====================================

"For Gods sake, Robert, how many times do I have to say it. I've made
my decision. I must apply, it's my last shot."

"I know, but I still think you're wasting your time. The chairman has
no idea, he's as useless as a chocolate teapot."

Julian knew her husband was right, but she had a consuming ambition,
and determination was something she was not short of.

"Maybe so, but he says Sir Gerald Knebworthy is looking for a
researcher, and he says that he has recommended me, so I am going to
apply ......... and that's final.  At worst a couple of years in
London will be an experience, and with our sex life, let's face it we
might as well be separated anyway."

"Look, you're my wife damn it! I should have something to say about
it".

"OK, but we both have to face up to this. If I am ever going to become
an MP, I will have to take this chance. It's ten years since I left
University, and this is too good an opportunity to miss. If you want
to stay married to me, you're going to have to accept the reality of a
move to London. I don't want to leave you, but if I must, then I will.
Why don't you take up Interbank's offer and move with me."

Robert Stewart looked morosely into his cup of coffee. He hated
himself. He had married Julia because he could. Stunningly handsome,
gifted, reasonably well off, he had the pick of the crop at Uni, and
Julia had been his female equivalent. Whilst he, however, had been a
quiet, laid-back student, she was much more focussed. A predator. When
they met, it had been Julia who had made all the running, and though
it was Robert who proposed marriage, he could never get rid of the
suspicion that he had been led into it like a lamb to the slaughter.
Over the years he had become dependent on her emotionally, but had
found it impossible to satisfy her sexual needs. It wasn't because she
was too demanding, it was something inside him that he didn't
understand. She was supremely attractive, but making love was
difficult for him, an effort requiring a level of concentration that
he found uncomfortable. As a result their lovemaking was becoming
increasingly sporadic.

"Sod it! I will then!"

His instant decision was uncharacteristic. He was an accomplished
accountant, with all the natural caution that such a profession
requires, so jumping off the deep end in this manner took both of them
by surprise. Nevertheless, it was final, he was sure of that. He would
do anything and everything to avoid losing her.
For Julia, the decision also came as a great relief. In her case,
however, it stemmed from her belief that marriage gave her the sort of
dependable image that all politicians craved. As long as Robert was
prepared to put up with the vagaries of being a politician's spouse,
she would be free to get on with her career.

That evening they sat, side-by-side, filling out the forms that would
shape the rest of their lives.

			====================================
It was really dark as Marion Scott left the Church Hall. She always
felt needed after her weekly visit to the single mothers club. The
girls were all far too young to be looking after chidren, but their
lack of experience had landed them in trouble, and Marion knew how to
help them. It was simply a matter of gaining control over their life.
After all, others could deal with it, why not them.

Her heels click-clacked across the empty carpark as she hurried
towards her car. As she passed the concrete pillar next to her
destination she never noticed the tall black man step out behind her.
As she approached her car, he struck.

His hand came round her face and slapped a towel-like cloth across her
mouth, making screaming impossible. At the same time, he pushed her
violently face down onto the bonnet of her car. As she began to
struggle, a knife, fully 9 inches long appeared in front of her face.

"If yer struggle, ah'll cut lumps out of you. Do you understand?" a
voice hissed in her ear.

She nodded furiously, scared to death of what was about to happen. 

"Whats yo name, bitch?"

"Marion" she sobbed

"Well Marion, were goin' to party."

"Please, I'm a good christian wife, I've never known a man other than
my husband. Please leave me alone."

He could hardly hear what she was saying through the rudimentary gag.
Not that it mattered much. He ignored her and pressed the knife
none-too-gently against her neck, holding her tight to prevent her
avoiding the pressure from the blade.

"Lift yer skirt like a good girl...."

Almost paralysed with fear she lay dormant across the car hood.

"I won't tell you again. lift it, and drop de tights."

Marion switched into autopilot. Her hands reached behind her and
wriggled her pencil skirt up around her hips. She stared across the
bonnet of the car at the concrete wall as she grasped the waistband of
her tights and lowered them as far as her restricted arm movements
would allow. Curiously detatched, she waited for the inevitable rape,
murmuring an almost silent prayer for salvation. It was not about to
come.

"Nice arse. Spread dem cheeks for me."

Marion genuinely had no idea what he wanted. She reached back and
spread the lips of her labia, tears of embarrassment pouring down her
face.

"Arse, bitch, not Cunt"

As she realised what he meant, Marion was paralysed with fear. She
sprung to life as he delivered a mighty slap to her arse cheek, making
her scream into her gag. Squeezing her eyes tight shut, she held her
nether cheeks apart so that he could see her arsehole.

"Dat's better, now, let's see......."

Tears streamed down her face as his finger screwed itself into her
rectum. He lowered his face to hers and whispered.

"Tell me you want me to fuck your arse, bitch."

Marion gritted her teeth and shook her head.

"Do it!" His knife pressed into the side of her breast as she felt it
cut through her bra and pierce her flesh.

"Please! Stop!"

"Do it." The knife twisted again and pain shot through her.

"OK! ok. Please don't hurt me anymore."

"OK What? Say it!"

"Please, please, fuck my arse..................."

			====================================
"Mrs Stewart. Sir,"

"Ah, come in, my dear, sit."

The welcome was warm enough, she thought to herself, but the
instruction to sit had been issued in a way that brooked no argument.
She complied, smoothing down her skirt and crossing her ankles to
reflect an ease which she did not feel. She smiled nervously in
response to Sir Gerald Knebworthy's frank stare.

"Bill tell's me I should take your application seriously. Suppose you
tell me why I should."

Julia began to talk, describing her education, upbringing, political
experience and finally her ambition in an increasingly fluent manner
as her nervousness wore off.  She could see he was impressed, but as
the interview wore on, it was clear to her that it was not just her
ability that was firing his interest. His gaze would drift slowly down
over her breasts, pause there before moving slowly on until, without
embarrassment he would study her knees and legs with obvious
admiration in his eyes.  This man exuded the sort of power she yearned
for. She would do anything to land this post. She made up her mind.
Slowly, without breaking her speech, she uncrossed her ankles and
deliberately recrossed her legs at the knee, making absolutely sure
that he was unable to see between her legs, but causing her skirt to
ride up, showing him an expanse of thigh with just a hint of stocking
top. At the same time she leaned forward as she emphasised a point,
giving him an enticing view of her cleavage.  Sir Gerald, she knew,
had picked up on the signal.

"And can you tell me what your long-term goal is?"

"I want to get into Parliament. I believe I can serve the community
and want to make a difference."

Sir Gerald smiled quietly to himself. Recognising bullshit is all part
of leadership, he thought to himself. This young woman wants power,
and I might as well see how far she will go. For another twenty
minutes or so, he slowly turned the conversation onto more personal
issues. He led her into describing her frustration at her failure to
get a nomination, her difficulties with her husband Robert, and
finally to her attitude to the research job if he were to offer it to
her. He liked what he heard, so moved in to test her resolve.

He pushed a small button under the desk, surreptitiously locking the
office door.

"How important to you are your own opinions, Julia?"

Smelling a rat, Julia thought she was too careful to be caught by a
question like that.

"I think your own opinions are important, but its also vital that you
support the views expressed by your party and the people who make the
policies."

"So, you know you will have to follow instructions?"

"Of course."

"Do you submit easily to discipline?"

Julia didn't like the way this was going, but had no option but to
play his game if she were to succeed.

"I see it as essential that politicians reflect the policies of their
parties. Political parties cannot operate without it."

"That's not quite what I asked. How readily will you submit to the
will of your leaders?"

Julia was trapped. She knew it, he knew it. Now, it was clearly just a
matter of time before he would test her compliance.

"IF I were to be elected as an MP," she stressed the IF in an attempt
to make her answer conditional, "I would be prepared to do anything
the party required of me."

"It's hot in here isn't it." he said, changing the subject. "Give me
your jacket."

Julia didn't even hesitate. The jacket was in her hand, being offered
to him before she realised she had responded to a direct order. This
was proving more difficult than she imagined. She sat still, feeling
the pressure of his gaze as he surveyed the swell of her breast under
her white blouse. She felt the colour rise in her cheeks.

"Why do you keep avoiding the subject of discipline. Either you will
submit to the party whip or you won't. Stand up!"

Julia got to her feet as Sir Gerald walked in front of her and leaned
against the desk.

"You've got nice legs. Show them to me!"

Julia looked into his eyes, placed the palms of her hands on her
thighs and began to slide her skirt up her legs. If the bastard wanted
a show, she would give him one. Her skirt reached her stocking tops,
at which point she paused.  Sir Gerald said nothing, but flicked his
eyes upwards urging her to continue. The skirt cleared the pale beige
stocking tops, and revealed the flushed pink of her thighs. Still he
wasn't satisfied. The skirt continued it's journey revealing a glimpse
of her white silk camiknickers.

"I'm glad to see you came dressed for the occasion" Sir Gerald offered
as she followed his signal to raise the skirt still higher. She was
now holding it rolled in a band around her waist, waiting for his next
move. When it came it worried her even more. A riding crop appeared as
if by magic in his hand. 

"I know the whip is a formal name for falling under party discipline
in Parliament, but in this office I take it a little more literally.
Spread you legs Mrs Stewart."

Julia did as she was told. She knew there was no way back. His use of
her married name simply reinforced his power over her and the mixture
of fear and excitement were beginning to have their impact on her
response. She felt her pelvic area begin to flush, and her juices
begin to flow. Sir Gerald leaned forward and inserted the crop into
one leg of her knickers. She gasped as the end made contact with her
lubricated slit. He leaned forward and pulled the her underwear down
to her knees. As the cool office air played around her cunt, he waved
the crop upwards. The small, flexible end flicked her clit sending
shards of pain shooting through her body. Julia yelped and took a step
backwards and her knickers fell to her ankles. Sir Gerald was unmoved.

"Get back here! Legs apart"

She shuffled forwards, into the ungainly position she had previously
occupied, tears of embarrassment and pain sliding down her cheeks.

"Behave like that again, and I will give the job to someone more in
control."

Julia couldn't believe it. How could someone possibly take that
without flinching. She found out. He waved the crop again. She gritted
her teeth, closed her eyes and gave a whimper as the same pain coursed
through her body, but this time, she did not step back. Sir Gerald
raised the crop and stroked it gently down her cheek.

"You see! You will soon learn what it takes to get on with me. Now!
Hands on your head please."
 
Julia did as bidden. On his next command she leaned forwards until her
forehead rested on the edge of the desk. She waited in trepidation for
the crop to fall.  It didn't. 

"Nice arse, Mrs Stewart," he commented. His hand caressed each buttock
in turn, pausing as it passed over the intervening anal crease. She
waited, holding her position for the invasion she was now sure would
come.

A knock on the office door broke the tension. 

"Come in!"

Julia was astonished. He couldn't surely allow visitors to see her
like this, bent over the desk, knickers round her knees.

"It's locked Sir" called his secretary from beyond the door.

"Sorry" Sir Gerald stepped behind the desk, pushed the concealed
button and called her in.  Julia stayed glued to the desk, her face
crimson with embarrassment as the secretary close the door and walked
across the floor towards her.

"What do you think of Mrs Stewart?" he asked to Julia's consternation.
The secretary's hand caressed the cheeks of her arse where a few
moments before her boss had done the same.

"Very nice Sir," she said as she slowly screwed her finger into
Julia's anal orifice. "Do you think she will cope with the pressure?"

"I'm willing to take the risk, Gloria, What do you think?"

"I think you're right sir, as always....."

"Excellent! Thats OK then. Thank you Mrs Stewart, we will be in
touch."

Julia couldn't believe her ears. She stood up and looked across to
where Gloria and her boss were deep in conversation, ostentatiously
ignoring her.  She bent down to pick up her knickers.

"Leave those, I will keep them for now"

Julia lowered her skirt, gathered up her jacket, and backed out of the
room. Totally shocked and humiliated, she was nevertheless sure that
her career had just taken a step change for the better.

Behind her, Sir Gerald smiled at his secretary. "Better type up the
offer letter, Gloria, Oh and get Dan to do a full security check on
her husband."

			===============================

Justin Scott was a very worried man. Whatever it was that was worrying
Marion, it was having a serious impact on their relationship. She had,
over the past few weeks turned decidedly cool. She never smiled, and
her visits to Church had become much more frequent and intense. Any
attempt on his part to help was simply dismissed. It was already dark
as he waved to his wife, loped off down the drive, climbed into his
car and set off for his constituency meeting, leaving Marion to drive
herself to yet another church meeting.

Behind him, Marion Scott nervously checked around her as she dashed to
her car. Since the attack, she never went out alone apart from her
Church visits. Her reluctance to discuss it with Justin gave her a
constant feeling of guilt. Could she trust him? What would he say? She
knew it hadn't been her fault, but she felt unclean, and unable to
talk to anyone about her feelings. She climbed in the car and closed
the door.

"Good Evenin' Marion"

She stopped. Rigid with fear and shock, she stared in the mirror at
the black face over her shoulder.

"What do you want" she screamed.

"Quiet, bitch, you knows what I want. And I knows what you want as
well."

"Leave me alone, you're sick. If you leave now I won't tell anyone."

"If I stay you won't tell anyone either."

She sat still, knowing that what he said was true. She was scared, and
knew what was about to happen. There was nothing she could do about
it. He reached over and pressed the seat recline button on the
console. The whirr of the electric motor temporarily drowned out the
thumping heartbeat in her chest as it slid the seat down and
backwards, leaving her horizontal, on her back, looking up at her
assailant.
He absent mindedly ran a hand inside the neck of her blouse, down
beneath her bra, and squeezed her breast. The other casually flipped
the safety belt release, freeing her from it's constraint.

"Why don't you leave me alone?" she sobbed, "Why me?"

"You know what we both want. Ask me!" 

He made a small rotating motion with his hand. She did as she was told
and rolled over onto her front.

"She did, but couldn't bring herself to say it."

"Look bitch! get on your knees, lift your skirt, drop your pants and
ask me to fuck your arse! NOW!"

All resistance left her. Like an automaton she followed his
instructions to the letter. The blank look of shock on her face full
testimony to her complete subservience. She gasped as the cold evening
air wafted round her bare arse.

"I won't tell you again! ASK ME!"

"PLEASE ........ f f fuck me "

"Try again"

"Please fuck my arse"

"Good girl, you really are learning." 

She heard the swish of his zip and felt him struggle over the seat
and, in the confined space to take position, kneeling between her
legs, forcing her knees apart and rubbing his hand up and down her
crack. To her horror, she realised that she was aroused enough to
provide lubrication for his massive dick. Despite his difficulty
coping with the small space around him, he coated his tool in her
juice, and with some squeezing and pushing, lodged it in her rectum.
Her resistance folded and his dick slid effortlessly into the depths
of her bowels.

"Ohhh Ohhh Ohh." She moaned involuntarily as he began to thrust his
hips rhythmically against her rear. Last time, the act was all pain.
This time she began to feel the glow of arousal on her cheeks. The
thought of offering herself in this way offended all her beliefs, but
there was no doubt in her mind this time, that the whole experience
was changing her view of life completely. To her complete surprise,
she orgasmed at the same time as her attacker, falling on to her face,
her hands gripping the sides of the seat beneath her. He pulled
himself out, moved awkwardly back to her head, and presented his dick
to her face.

"Now, Bitch, clean me up." 

She looked up at him quizzically, but any thoughts of refusal were now
far from her mind. She opened her lips and took his length between
them. 

When he left ten minutes later, vanishing into the darkness, Marion
lay still, face down in her car, tears of humiliation wetting the
fabric beneath her. She struggled to her knees, opened the door, and
staggered half clothed back across the drive to her front door.

When Justin returned, 3 hours later, she was still in the bath,
weeping silently to herself in emotional turmoil.

			===============================

Robert Stewart was confused. The pounding beat of the dance music -
garage? - drummed into his head as he peered through the clouds of
fake smoke at the dancing throng. He'd been at the Bank for three
months now, commuting in and out, setting off at 6.00am and not
getting home until 9.  Julia and he hardly ever got time together
these days, and whilst they still enjoyed each other's company, he was
surprised that he didn't miss the fact that they hadn't made love
since they moved to the city. The guys at work were a nice bunch,
especially young Jeremy, who had been a great help showing him the
ropes. Tonight, Julia was working late, so Jeremy had offered to help
him sample the night life.

 This was the third club they had been to, and Robert was beginning to
feel the pressure. A steady flow of fruit flavoured vodka had made him
light headed, but he was still aware enough of his surroundings to
recognise that most of the couples dancing were young men. Strangely,
he was quietly amused rather than shocked, and he found himself
thinking about joining in. Jeremy appeared through the crowd, towing a
striking young hispanic-looking man in his wake.

"ROBERT" he shouted above the din. "THIS IS MANOLO."

Minutes later, Robert was in the thick of things, head shaking, body
twitching, with Manolo doing a passable impression of a half pissed
girlfriend on a night out with her mates. His languid movements were
performed with particular elegance, and Robert began to sway along in
tandem. Justin appeared at his shoulder with another round of drinks,
shouting loudly to make himself heard. As Robert drank, and danced,
the noise seemed to get further away, and it wasn't long before he
clutched Manolo's arm and lurched towards the small alcoved seating
area. Manolo put a protective arm around Roberts shoulder just as he
slumped into the seat and fell over, his face in Manolo's lap.

How long he stayed there he didn't know, but he opened his eyes to see
the most surreal of sights. Only inches away from his face, Robert
cold make out the shape of a massive dick. Staring at the thing as it
slowly came into focus, he tried to raise himself. Something pressing
on his head held him close to the huge organ, and for some reason - he
had no ideas why - he felt an uncontrollable urge to kiss it. He
leaned forward, placed his lips over the bell-end, and drew almost the
whole length of it into his mouth. Above him, Manolo stroked the back
of his head with one hand, and made the diver's sign for OK, a circle
formed by thumb and first finger, to a young man with a camera at the
bar. Robert had solved the mystery of his low sex drive. He never
noticed the flash.

			=====================================

Julia was beginning to get fractious when the call came. Fourteen
months she had worked for Sir Gerald. Instead of being at the centre
of politics, she had found herself assigned to a small research team
of pseudo-librarians, soulless, with no imagination, and dumped in an
office eight miles from Westminster. The only saving grace was that
she had only met Sir Gerald a couple of times, both in public places
with no opportunity for him to repeat his treatment of her. Her
report, questions posed by recent computer secrecy legislation, was as
dry as all the other subjects she had worked on. The door to her
office opened, and the tousled head of Miss Pringle, her boss,
appeared round the woodwork.

"Sir Gerald needs your report urgently, please get it to him."

"I'll call a courier."

"No! he wants you to take it yourself."

Julia looked at her, brain in overdrive. Minutes later - it was
actually half an hour, but it felt like minutes - she was standing in
front of "Wonderbra" Gloria, clutching her report like a naughty
schoolgirl.
She offered it to the glamorous secretary, embarrassed by her casual
attire of Jeans and Polo-necked jumper.

"Thank you". Gloria took the report, and very deliberately placed it
in the bottom drawer of her desk.

"Please go in."

Julia looked at her quizically, knocked on the heavy oak door and
responed to the command to "enter".

Sir Gerald sat behind his huge desk, legs splayed, a big cigar in his
lips.  Only when she entered the room did she notice the two other
men. One of them, a tall, handsome man in his late thirties/early
forties seated on the small sofa to one side of the office, she
recognised from previous deliveries to Westminster. The other stood at
the drinks cabinet pouring three large brandies into crystal baloons.

"Welcome, my dear." It's been a long time. I hope you have not been
too disappointed by our lack of contact."

"Of course not Sir Gerald. It has been a very valuable experience,"
she lied.

"Forgive my lack of manners, please, let me introduce my guests. This
is, as you know Mr Henry Jeavons MP. Apart from his parliamentary
duties, he is also Chairman of our Candidate selection committee."

The importance of the role, and the likelyhood of the reason for her
being summoned brought a sudden flush of hope.

"And this," is our Chief Whip, Mr Gregory Carstairs."

The reality of her position began to sink in as she shook hands with a
man who looked more like a Lizard than a person.  He was of
indeterminate age, probably his early sixties. Long, thin, pale
complexion, and a long tongue which he used to constantly lick his
lips as he leered at her from almost lidless eye slits.

Her dislike of him was immediate, but if she were to achieve what she
wanted, he was highly important. She could clearly not upset him.

Carstairs sounded even more like a Lizard when he spoke.

"Knebworthy tells me you want to be an MP." he hissed.

"Indeed I do, sir. It has been an ambition ever since I left
university." She hoped deferential use of "Sir" would strike the right
note, and was rewarded by a smile of appreciation from the lizard.

"The fact is, young Lady, that with a General Election in the offing,
we are reviewing all of our candidates and selecting new ones in some
very key seats. We need to know if you are the right stuff." Henry
Jeavons came straight to the point. Out of the same mould as Sir
Gerald, assured authority coupled with natural class oozed from every
pore. Having a man like this on one's side would be a huge advantage.

"Knebworthy also tells me that you promise to respond well to the
whip." the lizard hissed again. This time the innuendo was
unmistakable and all doubt left Julia when he reached out stroked her
cheek, and allowed his hand to drift down her neck to her breast. He
squeezed it gently without letting his eyes waver from hers. "I will
expect you to be suitably grateful." 

Julia made one last effort to divert the flow of the conversation by
responding that she would work tirelessly to repay the trust of the
party.

"I'm talking of personal gratitude, my girl." As he spoke he pointed
dramatically to the floor in front of him, leaving her in no doubt of
his intentions.  She knelt, shuffled across the two feet of floor
between them and pulled down the zip of his trousers. A couple of deft
twists of her fingers, and his prick sprang from it's cloth prison.
Like him, his dick was long, thin, and cold. It hung like a giant leek
against his trousers, strangely narrow at the base, with a curious
bulb-like bell end. All that was missing were the tendrils. Julia
chuckled at the thought before getting down to the serious business.

She extended her tongue, and licked gently around the hole. She felt
him pull back slightly at whatever sensation she had created, but when
she started to open her lips around the end, he thrust his hips
forward, ramming his tool into the back of her throat. His grip on her
hair tightened, bringing unnecessary pain to the activity, but he
seemed to be getting off on it. He made Julia cry out, twisting her
hair as she gagged on his prick. With a sibilant hiss he came,
squirting watery semen into her throat. As she swallowed his come, a
pair of hands slid under her shoulders, grabbed her breasts from
behind, and lifted her bodily from her knees to a standing position.

Henry Jeavons manoevered her across the carpet towards the desk, his
hands now releasing their grip only long enough to slide down and free
her jumper from the waisband of her jeans. When they returned to her
breasts, under her jumper, he pushed her bra upwards, freeing her
tits, but crumpling her bra above them in a most uncomfortable way. 
 
Knebworthy sat looking at her with a knowing look on her face. The
riding crop tapping with a regular rhythm against his leg. Behind her,
Jeavons pressed his bulging manhood against the small of her back, as
his hands slid back down to the fastener at the top of her jeans. He
popped the button, slid down the zip fastener, and allowed the garment
together with her panties to drop on to the floor round her feet. She
stepped out of them as Jeavons completed undressing her, pulling the
jumper over her head, and detatching her bra.  Knebworthy moved around
the desk and stood before her, in the same position as last time, only
now, with Henry Jeavons standing behind her preventing any movement.

The riding crop stroked her cheek.

"I'm glad you understand the requirements of such an important post,
Mrs Stewart, but it falls to us to make sure that you understand the
consequences of any failure to perform. You are already familiar with
my chosen instrument." As he spoke, the riding crop stroked gently
across her top lip, making her head move involuntarily backwards as if
expecting it to hurt. Insistent pressure forced her lips apart, as the
crop slowly mimicked an invading penis. Behind her, she felt Jeavons
divest himself of his trousers, and it was no surprise to her when she
felt his cudgel of a weapon push between her legs. Her thighs parted
to allow him access as Knebworthy withdrew the crop and gave her a
smart crack across the breast. At the same time, Jeavons thrust his
dick into her sopping cunt in a single, smooth thrust, lifting her
almost off the ground.

"AAggh," her cry of pain died in her throat as Jeavons stood stock
still. He filled her completely, holding her arms by her side.
Knebworthy started to strike her breasts with the riding crop, first
the left, then the right. The blows were not hard, but the small whip
was designed to sting a horse into action, and its effect on Julia's
chest was exactly the same. The initial pain was slowly replaced by a
warm glow which spread over her upper body, making her nipples stand
out like hat pegs. She began breathing more shallowly, sexual arousal
slowly building in her. When Jeavons began to saw back and forth in
her quim she began to experience the same feelings in her lower half.
She was now out of control. Sex with Robert had never had any of this
intensity and she began to moan as passion overtook her. Knebworthy
put down the crop and sprung his dick free from his trousers.

Leaning forward without prompting, she took him into her mouth,
rolling her tongue around its full length and sucked on it like a
vacuum cleaner.  All her pent up sexual frustration was now released.
With a mouthful of Knebworthy, and a cuntfull of Jeavons she was in
paradise, bouncing between their coordinated thrusts like a ball in a
Newtons cradle. Breathing was difficult but she managed to keep up
with both of them as their climaxes built.

"Nnnngh, Nnngh, OOOooophhh!" She came first, her whole body freezing
in a spasm of delight she hadn't felt for years. Pleasure coursed
through her body rolling in waves from her head to her fanny and back.
Jeavons and Knebworthy continued the action, showing no sign of
slowing, and she came again.  This time it was low key. Everything
just seized up as she hung between them.

"uh! uh! uh! uh! uh!" Julia's rhythmic grunts puctuated the silence in
the office as Knebworthy and Jeavons pounded into her. Their pace
quickened, and both dicks seemed to Julia to be growing in size as
they sandwiched her between them. Suddenly, as if on cue, she felt
both men tense, Jeavons stuck a finger deep into her arsehole, and all
three climaxed in unison. Julia almost passed out as the waves of her
coming literally took her breath away. Knebworthy pulled away, a smug
grin on his face, but Jeavons simply collapsed in exhaustion across
Julia's back, forcing both of them down into a heap on the carpet. 

Gasping for air, Julia looked up to see the Lizard standing over her.
As she struggled out from beneath the panting Henry Jeavons, he gave
her a push with his foot, rolling her onto her front. 

"Get your arse in the air!" he hissed. "No fuss, just do it!"

Julia struggled to her knees,elbows on the floor, arse in the required
position. She was shattered and thought she had done enough. Clearly
the Lizard thought otherwise. Without preamble he pressed his knob
against her little brown orifice and pushed. Julia tried to ease his
progress, but her natural defensive reaction was to clench her
buttocks. She could not avoid it. Carstairs was not pleased. Leaning
across to the desk he picked up the riding crop and delivered a
fearful blow to the cheek of her arse. Outside the office, Gloria
smiled to herself as she heard the scream of pain through the closed
door.

Inside, the crop had done it's work.  Julia's sphinctre gave way and
the Lizards long prong burst through her resistance, burying itself up
to the hilt. Unprepared for this assault, Julias dry back passage was
soon rubbed raw by Carstairs dick. She bit her lip and stoicly waited
for him to finish.  Stamina was clearly not the Lizard's strong suit
and his orgasm didn't take long. Julia sighed as he released her,
triumph, of a sort in her eyes. The sex with Knebworthy and Jeavons
had been almost unmitigated pleasure, but this was undoubtedly the
pain that might see her get the nomination.

			=====================================

"What's up pal? You've gone as white as a sheet."

Jeremy's jovial greeting snapped him out of his trance. The anonymous
e-mail on his screen had scared the shit out of him. All around him,
the clatter of keyboards and the agitated conversation of the Bank
Transfers Room went on, but he was oblivious to it all. His total
attention was focussed on a small square icon at the bottom of the
screen innocuously labelled 1.jpg.

When he had clicked on it a couple of minutes earlier, the innocent
little icon suddenly exploded into a full portrait of himself.  It was
clearly him, no one could mistake it.  The dick was what scared
him......The dick filling his face, pushed between his lips, glossy
and shining with spittle in the reflected light of the camera flash.
He had immediately shut the picture down, but it now sat there, a
malevolent reminder of his indescretion and his newly discovered
sexual preference.

The message was clear, simple. "La Parisienne - 2.30pm today". The
consequences of not attending, unstated, but equally clear.

Robert gathered up his coat. Stuffing his mobile phone and Palm Pilot
into his coat pocket he shut down his terminal and left his desk.

"Sorry Jeremy," he called across the room, "I'm all right, I just
don't feel well. Some fresh air will help."

"La Parisienne" was a coffee shop, some 5 minutes brisk walk from his
office. Although busy, the lunchtime rush had abated and a quiet
corner table was vacant.  He bought himself a coffee and croissant,
fought his way between the crowded tables and sat down to wait.

A tall, elegant lady entered the coffee shop. She walked straight to
the counter and purchased a pot of herbal tea. Balancing her small
tray in one hand, she looked aroung the room before struggling along
the same route Robert had taken to the rear corner. As she made to sit
down in the vacant chair next to him, Robert interjected.

"I'm sorry, I'm expecting someone..."

"I know you are. Mr Stewart isn't it?"

Robert was stunned. this was not what he had expected. Cheap blackmail
for a few quid yes, but not by such an obviously wealthy woman. She
was wearing more designer gear than the models in the shop window
opposite.

"What do you want" he asked rapidly, unable to mask his anxiety.

"Please, don't get excited." The woman spoke with a calm assurance and
clearly was not going to be rushed.

"Mr Stewart. I represent a group of people with a particular interest
in your line of work." We are looking for a partner to help us in our
business, but because of it's nature, such a partnership will need to
remain confidential. The photograph we sent you is simple insurance -
for you, turning us down is an option , turning us in is not. What we
want to know is whether you are prepared, for a fee, to help us."

Robert sat back in his chair, still trying to come to terms with what
was being said. Had he understood? 

"Whatever it is, it's illegal right?"

"Well, I certainly would not like it to be discussed on the front page
of the newspapers, but thats why we will make it worth your while."

"So what's the offer"

"Simple. As part of our business, we require occasional undeclared
transfers of significant amounts of money to and from various
countries around the world. We need someone to manage those
transaction and make them happen."

"Money Laundering?"

"We prefer the term Asset Transference. Are you interested, or not?"

"What's it worth to me?"

"I assume that means you have no objection in principle."

"It means, what's it worth."

"Mr Stewart, I need a yes or no before I discuss terms."

"Ok, Yes!"

"Thank you.  I'll be in touch."

With that, she stood up and headed for the door, leaving an expectant
but bemused Robert Stewart behind her. Once clear of the door, Joanna
Jeavons punched a string of numbers into her mobile. 

"Dan? Joanna. He's in. Yes. Like a baby. No, no trouble, but he will
need a decent offer. OK, bye.". She hung up. Life had never been the
same since her introduction to Sir Gerald. She thought the bastard had
ruined her life, but it was not to be.  Both her, and her husband had,
it seemed passed the test. They were rich, and meant to stay that way.

			==================================== 

Marion Scott woke with a start. It was pitch black. She peered at the
faint glow of the alarm clock which told her it was two thirty in the
morning. Reaching out, she realised that Justin wasn't beside her.

"Justin?" No answer.

"Justin, love? where are you?" Still no answer.

She stretched and rolled over to feel his side of the bed. Although it
was still warm, it was cold enough to suggest he had been gone a few
minutes. Assuming he had probably gone downstairs for a glass of
water, she settled back to wait. Some muffled noise downstairs made
her get up to investigate. Slipping on her heavy dressing gown over
her pyjama suit, she slid her feet into her slippers and shuffled off
down the stairs. Everwhere was dark except for the light glowing under
the door of Justin's study.

"Justin?"

Her enquiry was met by a muffled grunt.

"Justin? don't be silly."

She pushed open the door and gasped in astonishment. Her husband sat
facing her, broad silver coloured tape across his mouth, his wrists
and ankles tied firmly to the arms and legs of the dining chair he was
sitting on. His eyes, wide with panic, darted around the room, as if
trying to tell her something. She moved slowly towards him, her
slippers sliding across the carpet as if drawn by an invisible thread.
Justin started to shake his head ever more vigorously.

"Dat's far enough!"

Marion froze in her tracks. The deep, familiar African voice beside
her head instantly recognisable. She stood, staring at Justin, not
daring to turn her head.

"What do you want?" she managed to force out through her shock.

"It's not what I want, bitch. Its what you want, eh?"

Marion thought she was going to be sick. Terrible thoughts swirled
around her brain as she realised the import of his words. Surely he
wasn't going to fuck her here, in front of her husband? No, worse than
that, he was going to make her ask for it, like he had before. Sweat
broke out on her brow as she tried furiously to think through her
options. There were none. Justin was helpless, and she knew enough
about the African to know that pity was not one of his attributes. He
could do terrible things to Justin. Only she could protect him.

"Please, don't make me do this."

His silence confirmed her worst fears. She slipped the housecoat from
her shoulders and let it fall.

"Please, I'll do anything, don't hurt us."

Still no response. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

"Alright, I'll do it, please fuck me."

Across the room, Justin sat in shock. Surely he couldn't have heard
her properly. Marion, HIS Marion would never use words like that. He
looked on, rigid with apprehension as the bizarre events infront of
him unfolded. The silence hung like a lead weight in the room.

"Please, Please, fuck me, get it over with."

Justin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Realisation hit him. -
Marion knew this intruder. They had met before. Still the African made
no move.

"OK!  You win, My arse, please, fuck my arse."

Tears of frustration and bewilderment welled up in Justin's eyes. What
was going on. He and Marion had never done that. Why should she be
saying these things? who was this animal? In front of him, the tall
African towered over his own wife, and he was unable to do anything
about it. He watched as her assailant slowly drew down the zip of his
trousers. When his penis sprang free, Justin nearly had a heart
attack. 
A full ten inches, it dwarfed his own excuse for a tool. Marion would
never take it normally, never mind anally. He struggled as much as he
could but no amount of vigour could loosen his bonds. He could feel
his pulse rate quicken, his heart pounding in his chest, the tightness
causing him to gasp in anguish at his helplessness.

Marion waited, her head bowed in submission, her eyes squinting up at
the sight of her husband furiously fighting with the ropes that held
him in the chair. Tembo placed his hands on her shoulders and turned
her through 90 degrees. He pressed down on the back of her neck,
forcing her to lean forward and support herself on the low cofee table
in front of her. Running his hands down her front, pausing to roughly
squeeze her breat on the way, he slid both hands into the elasticated
waistband of her Pyjama bottoms. A quick pull and they settled around
her knees, leaving her bare behind to it's fate.

She heard her tormenter chuckle before feeling his spittle dribble
down her lower back and settle in the hollow of her arse. 

"Hold still bitch!" 

He made no attempt to soften the blow. Placing his massive knob
against her chute he shoved hard and persistently until her sphinctre
gave way. From where Justin sat, it was difficult to tell whether her
groan was from pain or pleasure, One thing was clear. From the way she
reacted this was not the first time he had taken her like this. As he
began to pump in and out her rhythmical gasps got louder and louder.
Justin stopped struggling. His mind blank, he stared unseeingly across
the room, blocking out all but the hands on the clock face above the
spot where his wife was being buggered by her assailant.
When they finished, Marions cry of anguish did nothing to disturb his
detachment. She was no longer his wife. she had no place in his life.
He sat, staring ahead, rivulets of sweat pouring down his face.

			====================================
Julia Stewart sat patiently outside the interview room. Her newly
appointed agent, Charles Stokesley, sat next to her. A small mousey
looking woman opponent opposite.

"I hope Sir Gerald knows what he's doing." she whispered." He assured
me that I would get a seat,and now he has me fighting for one against
one of the best respected and longest serving MPs in Parliament.
Re-selection will be a formality."

"Julia, my girl, stop worrying. All you can do is your best. Just be
natural, and tell them what they want to hear."

Julia muttered under her breath. She was feeling particularly let down
at the moment. She had put out for this seat, and now, faced with the
final interview, she found she would be up against Justin Scott,
twenty years an MP, regularly elected to one of the safest seats in
the country, with a massive majority. It was his local commitee who
would be sitting in judgement of her in a few minutes. She was
supposed to be interviewed after Scott, but he hadn't turned up yet.

The door burst open, and Justin Scott made his grand entrance, three
local party grandees in attendance. Walking straight up to the door to
the interview room, he paused, glanced over at Julia, muttered a brief
"May the best man win" and pushed through to meet the committee.
Julia's nose wrinkled in distaste at the "best Man" remark as Scott's
entourage parked themselves on the chairs opposite.

As he strode into the interview room the selection committee looked up
from their notes. Scott stopped and stared at the chair in front of
him. It was almost a copy of his own dining room chair. Pausing, he
shook his head to clear it of the image of his wife that immediately
sprang into it and settled in the chair ready for the questioning to
begin.

"Good afternoon Justin, I trust you are well?"

The good wishes of the chairwoman fell on deaf ears. Justin Scott was
a man in a trance. His arms lay along the arms of the chair, his mind
full of the giant African taking posession of his own Marion.
Cold sweat gathered on his brow, .........he couldn't get the picture
out of his mind.

"Im sorry?......." his response tailed off. The words wouldn't come.

					==========================

Robert Stewart sat back in his chair with a smug grin all over his
face. He was still filling his lowly position on the transfer desk,
but he now had his sideline. Twice since his "exposure" he had
engineered large movements of money from and to anonymous accounts.
Both had been followed by significant deposits in his own bank
accounts. Life was indeed rosy. His third transaction was now
complete, another chunk of money would be winging it's way to him
across the networks. On top of all that, with a bit of luck Julia
would succeed at the adoption meeting. Suddenly the possibility of
become a rich and powerful couple seemed a lot nearer.

					==========================

The door re-opened and Justin Scott came out.  He was a completely
different person. Eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, he shuffled
rather than strode across the room and left without even acknowledging
her presence.

Julia got up and headed for her interview, not believing what she had
witnessed. What on earth had the committee said to have that effect.
In trepidation she pushed the door open, gathered herself, and stepped
in. Twenty minutes later, she stepped out having acquitted herself
rather well, she thought.

The mousey woman was in for less than ten.

After what appeared to be an age, the little grey old lady Chairman of
the local party broke the news.
Justin Scott, apparently, had chosen to withdraw, and accordingly
Julia Stewart was adopted as the perty candidate at the next election.

Julia fought the feeling of elation with difficulty. She had no idea
what had gone on, but she was ure she knew who was responsible.
Whatever he had done, she thought to herself, Knebworthy had
delivered. All she had to do now was win the election

and express her gratitude to Sir Gerald.......





THE END

More to come .............

The stories of James Anderton can be found at www.storiesonline.net
and on the ASSTR website.

Copyright James Anderton 2002

Please don't post on paid websites, and please make appropriate
attribution on free ones.
Thanks
James

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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