Art Heist

Jim Jr. hired two people to help Mirella with the art gallery: Rose, a woman in her 40s and Fred, a slightly older man. Both of them had been working in this field for many years and either of them would have been able to run the gallery single-handedly. Obviously, it wouldn't take them very long to find out that Mirella's knowledge concerning the arts was extremely limited.

So Jim Jr. invented a story about Mirella having been the mistress of a wealthy New York businessman. When his wife found out about her, she threatened to create a scandal which would have been very damaging for his reputation, particularly with some of his major customers. He was forced to agree to ditch Mirella, but, afraid that she might create a scandal, paid her a generous compensation which she had used to go into the art business. This was also the story Mirella would have to tell Harry, or in fact anyone who should ask, because they couldn't be sure that he wouldn't send one of his people to check out the situation before showing up himself. Mirella didn't particularly like playing the role of someone's ex-floozy, but she couldn't come up with a better explanation and had to accept Jim Jr.'s version.

The art gallery wasn't very big. It was an L-shaped room in an up-market shopping mall. On entering the shop, the visitor was in the long part of the L, where the landscape pictures were hanging on both sides. Around the corner, in the shorter part of the letter L was a small alcove in which 'The Threesome' had been placed behind a bullet-proof glass plate with its own alarm system. Opening hours were from 11am to 8pm. The three would take their lunch break in turns. Mirella spent most of her working day sitting behind a small desk from where she could observe everything that happened.

An art gallery wasn't exactly the place where she could wear the kind of revealing evening dresses she had used so successfully on other assignments, although she did wear one which made her look ravishing and attracted a lot of attention during the official opening. For the normal working routine she wore a business-like skirt and jacket combination, spiced up by a lacy bra worn under a see-through blouse. She noticed that some of the visitors to the gallery paid more attention to her outfit than to the pictures on exhibition - and some would return for more.

The special Polichinelo exhibition was scheduled to last for three weeks. Two weeks had already passed and Mirella started to wonder whether Dirty Harry would swallow the bait and show up, when Jim Jr. phoned to let her know that the informant had booked a flight and would be arriving in New York the next day. Mirella told her staff that she was expecting a special customer whom she wanted to attend to on her own. They agreed on a sign which Mirella would make when she wanted them to leave.

Mirella spent the evening studying the various photographs of Harry she had been given, wondering if he would be using a disguise. The pictures showed a short, stocky fellow with muscular shoulders and neatly trimmed hair, in his early 40s. His face gave the impression that he was used to getting precisely what he set out to achieve. There wasn't anything particularly outstanding about him and Mirella wasn't sure she would be able to pick him out from a crowd of people. However, when he stepped into the gallery the next day, just after Mirella had returned from her lunch break, she had no doubt it was him.

He walked right past the landscape paintings without even glancing at them, or paying any attention to Mirella, turned around the corner and stopped right in front of 'The Threesome'. There he stood, his legs slightly apart, his hands in his pockets, chewing gum. He didn't bother to take off his dark glasses.

As Mirella looked at him from behind it made her think of a cowboy, or better, a gunfighter. It was quite obvious that he had known exactly where he would find what he was looking for. He looked at the drawing from various angles and moved so close to the bullet-proof glass plate that his nose almost touched it.

"Careful that you don't set off the alarm," said Mirella, who had signaled her staff that the time had come to leave her on her own with this visitor and was now standing next to him.

"Do you work here?" Harry asked without looking at her.

"Kind of," she replied, "I'm the owner of this gallery".

"What a stupid place to put this drawing," he said, "and what an asinine idea to put this glass plate in front of it."

"The glass plate is a requirement for the insurance cover. And we decided to separate this drawing from his other works. It's kind of unique, isn't it?"

Mirella was trying to provoke him into saying that there were others of the kind, but someone with Dirty Harry's reputation surely wouldn't fall for a simple trick like that. He kept looking at the drawing without saying anything.

Mirella didn't want to let the conversation die so quickly. She said, "Quite frankly, I think it's kind of overrated. It isn't very clear what exactly it is supposed to show. All those lines thrown haphazardly on the white background leave a lot of room for interpretation. For example, they say the guy butt-fucks the woman in the middle. I don't know why his cock couldn't be in her cunt."

Harry probably hadn't expected that kind of language from the female owner of an art gallery. He shook his head and replied, "That's anatomically impossible. The way she's bending down, sticking her ass up in the air, and the guy standing, there is only one place his cock can go. Now, if he was also kneeling, that would be a completely different ball game."

And he added, looking at her for the first time, "You don't seem to have a lot of experience in this area."

Mirella felt herself blush and thought how strange is was that this man could make her feel embarrassed about never having been fucked in the ass. She cursed Rocky for this, and Jim Jr. for not having explained the drawing better to her.

Harry now embarked on a monologue about anal sex in history and in art. He talked about Japanese and Chinese drawings - the oldest works in his collection - with subtle hints of anal sex; of Indian vases and other ceramic objects which portrayed in great detail every love-making position imaginable, including various forms of butt-fucking. He stated that the ancient Greeks and Romans, and some time later the Arabs, all used the rear entry on occasion but there was little evidence of this in the art they created.

The Arabs were forbidden by their religion to produce any images and the Romans seemed to have concentrated on creating statues of nudes which reflected their - and in many ways also our - ideal of human beauty. The Greeks, who laid the foundations for many aspects of western society - philosophy, science, democracy -, had the reputation of enjoying the company of young boys. The rule of Christian thinking had put an end to this enjoyment. Sex was considered exclusively an exercise in procreation. The portrayal of the naked human body and any form of sex in art were banned. Anal sex, as it didn't produce any offspring, was prohibited and anyone caught practicing it was severely punished. Only when the Catholic Church started to lose some of its power, did the subject of sex, and with it anal sex, reappear in paintings and sculptures.

Mirella was amazed. When she first heard about this man and his collection of erotic art, she had formed the opinion that this was probably some sleazy pervert. But Harry could talk about the subject like a university professor. And he obviously knew a lot about it.

"But let's come back to the drawing in front of us: Those haphazard lines, as you call them," Harry picked up the thread, "give the drawing an unbelievable dynamic. You can almost see the bodies move, you can hear them breath in unison as they approach the climax together. Why an artist who was capable of producing such a masterpiece would choose to spend his life painting boring landscapes is beyond me."

Mirella didn't know what to say. Harry certainly had a way of talking about the drawing which left her excited and wanting to feel what these people were experiencing. They were standing side by side looking at the drawing.

After a while Harry asked, "How much do you want for it?"

That one was easy to answer. "It's not mine to sell. I only got it on loan for this exhibition, but as far as I know the owners don't intend to sell it."

"Do you know the owners?"

"Not personally, but I have some connections."

"I'd like to make them a proposal. Here is my card."

Harry handed Mirella his business card which read 'Harry S. Fenton, Editor' along with his address and several phone numbers.

"So you're an editor?" asked Mirella, glad to have found another topic for conversation.

"Yep, I've recently become one. You see, I felt I ought to make my collection accessible to the interested public, but I couldn't stand the idea of having the masses trample all over my home. Nor did I think it would be a good idea to risk having those works stolen or damaged by some fanatic. So I decided to publish a series of books called 'The Harry S. Fenton Collection'. I'd love to include this work here, even if I can't make it part of my collection. That's what I want to talk about with the owners."

Then Harry looked at his watch and said, "In fact I'm supposed to be at my publisher's in ten minutes. They said they'll have a first review copy ready for me to look at. We can talk about it over dinner. I'll pick you up here at 7:30."

With that he turned around and walked towards the exit. Mirella was stunned. She couldn't believe her ears. This guy had just 'invited' her for dinner and didn't even bother to ask if it was okay with her. As Harry approached the door she shouted, "The gallery only closes at eight. I can't leave before that time." Harry just signaled with his hand that he had heard her but continued on his way.

Rose and Fred had been waiting in a café across the hallway and returned as soon as they saw Harry leave. Mirella told them to look after the shop while she took care of some urgent matters.

She needed to be on her own to be able to think. She drove to her apartment and treated herself to a cold shower. That would increase her blood circulation and activate her brain cells. Then, without putting on any clothes, she sat on the floor with her legs crossed and tried to meditate. But she found that her hands kept wandering to her pussy, stroking her lips. Hard as she tried, she couldn't concentrate. She thought it might be better to give in. Without changing position she brought herself to a climax, and another one, and a third. Then she decided to have another shower and try again.

Her perception of the situation was confused. There was the assignment and there were her emotions. Her feelings had never before gotten in the way of her doing her job. But this time they did. She realized that her sex life so far had only covered a very small part of the huge variety of options available. When she grew up, she never made friends with any girls, so she didn't go through the experience most girls went through when they discovered the development of their sexuality and compared their budding female body with that of their best friend. Besides, everybody she knew considered sex between women as 'weird'. But that hadn't protected her from almost having a crush on Agent Ann, because of the treatment she had given her pussy.

And men? Yes, there had been several men in her life, but they were the kind who didn't really know what to do with a woman, except fuck her. And after the disappointments she had suffered, she found it difficult to let another man into her heart, let alone her cunt.

There were obviously many more forms of sex than she had ever imagined and she wanted to try them all. And who better to be her guide on this journey than Dirty Harry? There was nothing in the rules which said she couldn't fuck him, in fact she had always been told that this may sometimes be unavoidable. As long as she delivered the goods, there wouldn't be anything wrong with enjoying herself and gaining some experience in the process. Besides, he was getting up her nose when he talked to her about sex as if he was talking to an Eskimo about a tropical rainforest. She wanted to show him that she wasn't as inexperienced as he thought - and that she was a quick learner. And she was pretty sure she wouldn't need to fake any orgasm with him.

The conclusion on this part of her confusion was that, yes, she wanted Dirty Harry to fuck her any which way he pleased - an enjoy it. But what about the assignment? Was she controlling the situation or was he? It seemed that he was calling the shots. But wasn't that exactly the idea of the approach strategy: to let the informant think that things were happening because of his initiative? And if she had dinner with him tonight and slept with him afterwards, wouldn't that make him trust her more, and maybe in an unguarded moment tell her what she wanted to know? Didn't the fact that he only wanted to get permission to include 'The Threesome' in his book, vouch for him? But she didn't know whether he had told her the truth. She hadn't seen the proposed publication yet. Another reason to accept his invitation for dinner.

So, dinner with Dirty Harry it would be. At first, Mirella considered changing into one of her more revealing dresses which she normally used to attract informants, but then she thought Harry would probably notice the change of outfit and might draw the wrong conclusions from it. However, she decided to experiment with leaving her bra off. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that the thin material of the blouse left her tits virtually uncovered. She combed her hair so most of it would fall down her front and cover her breasts. 'That will do nicely,' she decided.

It was almost seven when she returned to the gallery. She told Rose and Fred to take the rest of the day off. She would look after the few visitors until closing time. Harry arrived at 7:30 sharp, carrying a small briefcase. He expected her to be ready to leave with him straight away and wouldn't take no for an answer. As the gallery was empty at the time, Mirella agreed to close early (after all, the whole purpose of the exhibition had been to attract Harry). Harry watched her impatiently as she switched on the overnight alarm system and locked the door.

Dinner was in a sophisticated restaurant with soft lighting and lots of space between tables so they could talk without having to worry about someone overhearing their conversation.

Before they got started, Harry asked, "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure," said Mirella, "go ahead."

"Would you mind moving your hair back over your shoulders?"

'Bingo,' thought Mirella, 'he's noticed that I'm not wearing a bra.' She lifted her arms and with both hands moved her hair back over her shoulders.

"There's nothing wrong with your hair, but your breasts look so beautiful, you shouldn't try to hide them."

This set the tone for the evening. It wasn't going to be a 'thanks for the meal, I'll call you tomorrow' kind of dinner. Something was going to happen, Mirella just didn't know what exactly.

Harry asked if she had thought about his proposal concerning 'The Threesome' and Mirella explained that she wanted to see his books, or at least one of them, first, so that she could present his case better.

"I've got one volume in my briefcase here; you can have a look at it after dinner. I suggest we adjourn to my apartment for that."

"You don't seriously expect me to agree to come with you to your apartment - we've only just met," said Mirella teasingly.

"Oh, I see, you've heard some of the rumors they are spreading about me. Like the one that I keep half a dozen of sex slaves in my mansion."

"Well, are those rumors correct?"

"Absolute nonsense!" he said. "I'm down to five after one of them decided to become a nun. There's one position open. Are you applying for the job?"

Of course this wasn't a serious suggestion, but Mirella thought what an excellent opportunity it would be to slip through his security net and get inside his fortress. She was sure that Pussy Galore would have jumped at such a chance to get inside the lion's den, even if it meant becoming a sex slave. But she thought it would make her intentions too obvious if she agreed. So she just said, "I'll think about it."

Mirella suggested that they'd go to her apartment instead and Harry said okay if she agreed to enact one of the scenes in his book. Mirella asked if she would be allowed to chose which one and Harry said yes. They sealed their agreement with a toast and a handshake.

Harry mentioned that the collection would be published in 10 to 12 volumes, the exact number hadn't been decided yet, and that each volume would be dealing with a specific topic. There would be male nudes, female nudes, couples, threesomes, oral sex, anal sex, etc. The volume they had given him for review was called 'Punishment' and contained a selection of works of art depicting spanking and bondage. 'Holy shit!' thought Mirella, but she had no intention of going back on her word.

When they arrived at her apartment, Mirella fixed them some drinks. Then they settled down on the sofa next to each other and Harry got the book from his briefcase. It had quite a professional look to it. There was an introduction with a picture of Harry and an aerial shot of his mansion. The section on spanking contained a large number of drawings of people having their bottoms spanked.

There were young boys and girls but also grown up men and women. They were in various states of undress; some only baring their bottoms, others completely naked. Apart from their bare hands, the punishers were using a variety of implements, including long rulers, canes, whips and riding crops. Most of the drawings concentrated on the effect of the punishment on the bottoms, clearly showing whip or cane marks and reddened skin, but some also showed the victims' faces: a mixture of fear, pain and pleasure. Mirella was particularly impressed by a drawing in the style of a comic strip which showed a woman, so sexy she had to be unreal. She was standing, her legs were spread wide and tied to rings on the floor, her arms were raised and tied to rings suspended from the ceiling. Her entire body was covered with whip marks, including her breasts and lower belly. Her face was an expression of pure lust and desire. Mirella had never seen anything this exciting and felt her pussy get wet just from looking at her.

Harry went into professor mode again and explained that having one's bottom spanked wasn't really a sexual experience by itself. The arousal came mainly from the humiliation, having to expose one's bottom and maybe more to the whole class or maybe to other strangers. It came from the feeling of being entirely at the mercy of the punisher. And as the heat in the backside rose, the sexual desire mounted as well. Some people actually reached an orgasm just from having their bottom thrashed but most said that the spanking just made the sex afterwards much more satisfying.

Harry came out of professor mode and said, "This brings us to tonight's key question: Have you been a good girl, Mirella?"

Mirella knew what was coming. She didn't feel ready to be whipped all over like that fascinating beauty, but she thought she could handle a bit of spanking.

"Actually, I haven't been very good today," she answered.

"No? What did you do?"

"I masturbated. Three times. Thinking of you."

"Now that is *very* naughty. Don't you agree that you ought to be punished for that?"

Mirella lowered her head. "Yes, Sir".

"I think you deserve fifty swats on your bare bottom. What do you say?"