Becca XXX - Hard Time Ch. 14

Author's note: - This is a follow on to the previous chapter of Becca XXX Hard Time. Please read it before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters.

Becca XXX. Hard Time. Ch 14.

I'd lost count of how many times I'd dressed up like a slut in order to further my assignment. Men the world over loved a girl dressed in sexy lingerie, and as I admired myself in the outfit that Charles had selected for me, I could see why.

Sasha and I had made it back to the villa at around four o'clock that afternoon. After our discovery that her father was selling missile-launchers to possible terrorists, she'd gone very quiet. I was worried what she might do next, but it wasn't something I had time to discuss with her. She still had no idea that I was there to kill her father and as he greeted us on the patio of the villa, she came back to her cheerful self.

"Did you girls have fun on the beach?" he asked.

"Oh yes daddy. We love it here," she replied, giving him a kiss. "It's amazing."

I had to admire her acting skills. Whatever was going on in her head certainly wasn't visible from the outside.

"That's great, Munchkin, I knew you'd like it. Now, you both need to get some late lunch and then I need Becca for the rest of the day," he replied. "Becca, I'll meet you in your room at seven, ok?" he said.

"Of course, Mr Hamilton. We heard a plane land, have your clients arrived?" I said, already knowing the answer.

"Indeed they have. They will be staying here for a few days as we finish up our business. They're currently enjoying my island's facilities. I always like to show my guests a good time," he explained proudly. "They're looking forward to later." Make sure you shower and look glamorous; I'll come and pick you up later."

He kissed Sasha again and then he disappeared back into the main house.

After a quick lunch, I left Sasha to her thoughts and I went to my room to get ready. My bed had been made and there was some very expensive looking underwear laid out on the sheets. I knew I needed a shower, but I couldn't resist inspecting my attire before I got ready.

Doing the bidding of a multi-millionaire criminal meant that only the best clothing had been selected for me. The entire matching set of lingerie was made by Agent Provocateur. I knew the range well, having worn similar items from my own collection in the past. This particular set must have cost in the region of a thousand pounds and you certainly didn't get a lot of material for your money.

The underwear was skin-coloured and the fabric was so light and delicate, it would feel and look like I wasn't even wearing it. The bra was a balconette design constructed from sheer, see-through fabric with beautiful lace edging. The matching panties had barely enough material to contain my long pussy lips, but were equally stunning. I held the knickers up to the light and it was like staring through a spider's web they were so thin.

The garter belt and a pair of extremely thin stockings were laid out next to them, with a pair of off-white stilettos to finish the look. The stockings must have been the lowest denier possible and were nude in colour to match the lingerie.

It was a gorgeously slutty outfit.

I left the underwear on the bed, got undressed and jumped in the shower. My skin was still covered in salt and suncream and I had grains of sand stuck to me. After my little wrestling match with Sasha on the beach, the sand had got into all my nooks and crannies and I made sure I washed it out properly. If I was about to be used and abused by four strangers, the last thing I wanted was sand between my legs.

As I washed it away, I realised how wet my pussy was. My earlier fun with Sasha on the Balinese bed had left me slick and slippery. The fact I was about to entertain these potentially dangerous men, only made me wetter. I loved getting myself into dangerous situations and fucking strangers, so my horniness and anticipation of what was to come was slowly rising.

I washed my hair with the expensive products that had been provided and then I dried myself off. After drying my hair, I came out of the bathroom to find Charles waiting for me. He was sitting on the chair near the window and he startled me when I realised he was there.

"Oh... shit, I wasn't expecting you yet," I gasped.

He was fifteen minutes early according to the clock on the wall.

"I thought I'd come and make sure you have everything you require," he said, as emotionless as stone. "Don't let me rush you."

"I think I'm all sorted. Who picked out the underwear? It's gorgeous."

"That was me," he replied. "The subtle colour matches your tanned skin tone. I think it suits your athletic frame and reveals enough without giving the whole game away."

"I think you're right. You have a good eye for it. Is it for your benefit or for your clients?"

"A little of both, but I won't be partaking tonight. The Patriots will have you all to themselves."

"The Patriots? They sound like an American football team?" I joked.

"I think they are, but that's not who you're entertaining. It's just what this group of men call themselves. Are you still ok to entertain them?"

"Of course, but can I ask who they are? I like to know who I'm giving myself to. I know my new identity comes at a price, but I still have principals," I replied.

"Who my clients are isn't of concern to you. And we both know this isn't just about your new identity," he said.

"Isn't it? What's it about then?" I said, sitting at the dressing table and eyeing him in the mirror.

I started to do my makeup as he stared back at my reflection from across the room.

"You're an ex-government agent. I need to know that we're on the same page here. These men are important to the future of what I'm working on," he replied. "I want to see how far you're willing to go."

"So, you're testing me?"

"I'm making sure that you're leaving your old life behind. This is a good way for you to prove it to me. I'm still looking into who you are. I find that, if something looks to good to be true, it often is. I'm just being thorough," he explained.

"Fair enough. I can't say that I blame you, I'd do the same. Have you told The Patriots about me?"

"Of a fashion. I've told them that you're a high-class hooker and they're very much looking forward to meeting you. Does it excite you?" he quizzed.

His hands were steepled in front of him as he sat back in the chair with his elbows on the armrests. His expression never changed and his voice was slow and concise.

"What you mean is - am I wet."

"And are you?"

"Your daughter made sure of it this morning," I smiled. "She certainly knows how to get me off."

"She is one of a kind and I like that you've corrupted her during her time in prison. Her body is made for loving and although she will now be loyal to me, I love the fact that she knows her way around another woman's body. What did she do to you?"

"I think she was already corrupted before I got to her," I laughed. "We just had a little swim and then we fingered each other's pussies on the sun-bed. I'm sure she'll be nice and juicy for you when you fuck her later."

He smirked at my crudeness. For a well-spoken man, he seemed to appreciate my filthy talk.

"You always have a way with words," he chuckled. "That's one of the reasons I like you."

I gave myself smoky panda-eyes for that extra sultry look and then moved on to my lips. All of the makeup he'd provided went on like a dream. The mascara wasn't clumpy and the eyeshadow felt light and rich. Charles got up from his chair and moved up behind me as I applied the deep-red lipstick.

"You truly are a thing of beauty," he said, resting his hands on my shoulders and pressing his face into my hair.

He breathed in the fruity shampoo, closing his eyes to heighten his sense of smell. Men sniffing my hair always seemed perverted to me, but nowhere near as perverted as sniffing my panties.

"Mmmmm, exquisite," he murmured, breathing out and opening his eyes. "I think it's time you tried the underwear on."

He moved back and pulled my chair out for me as I rose. Despite being middle management for The Generals, he was still a chivalrous, polite gentleman.

I brushed past him and walked over to the bed. Having his eyes all over me made me even wetter as I picked up the flimsy bra and slipped it over my shoulders. Most men got off watching a girl undress, but Charles seemed equally as excited watching me dress up like a whore for his clients. He moved in behind me and fastened the clasp without me even asking.

"Thank you," I purred coyly, picking up the garter belt and fastening it around my waist.

I then sat on the bed and pulled the stockings on one by one, making a show of rolling them up my slender thighs.

"You are such a tease," he said.

I just smiled at him and clipped my suspender belt to the stockings to keep them in place. Most men never appreciated the extra effort I went to. I always put my panties on last, over the top of the garter belt. That way, my knickers could be removed and the guy could still fuck me while I kept my stockings and suspenders on. Small details counted when it came to being a professional seductress.

I picked the panties up last and I was about to put them on when Charles stopped me.

"Wait," he said. "I have one more finishing touch before you put them on."

"Really? What is it?" I asked feeling confused.

He pushed his hand into his pocket and produced a small metal item with a sparkling heart-shaped jewel on the end. It was a steel butt-plug and it wasn't small.

"Bend over," he instructed. "These men need to know that you're up for anything. If they see a plug in your ass, they'll know that all of your holes are open for business."

"I'll tell them, don't worry," I winked. "But that is a nice touch."

I placed my hands on the bed and bent over at the waist, pushing my ass in his direction.

"Spread your legs," he ordered.

I pushed my feet wider apart, waiting for the feel of the steel plug against my anus, but it didn't come. Instead, I felt him move closer and place his hand on my ass, feeling my womanly contours and gently caressing my cheeks.

His finger slid down my valley, over my puckered hole and down to my pussy. He didn't hesitate or tease, he just gently pushed his middle finger inside my wet cunt with a satisfied groan.

"Mmmmm, my daughter really did make you wet, didn't she?" he murmured.

"Mhmm," I moaned back.

He pulled his finger out and replaced it with the plug. The steel felt warm inside my pussy due to the hot ambient temperature as he inserted it and twisted it around. He then pulled it out with a good coating of my love juices and pressed it against my anus.

"Just relax," he whispered. "Here it comes."

I was already relaxed and I pushed out with my sphincter muscles as he pushed it into me. The burning sensation only lasted a few seconds before it got past the widest section and my asshole sucked it in.

"There you go, gorgeous," he said, pulling gently on the plug. "Put the panties on and turn around. Let's have a look at you."

I obeyed, feeling a slight tremble at being this close to him. I wasn't scared, but he did have a domineering effect on me. I felt like a submissive child in his presence. Once I'd tucked my long labia into the tiny garment, I looked up into his eyes as he stared back at me, expressionless. His skin looked wrinkle free which didn't seem right for a man of almost sixty. Maybe good living had kept his youthful looks or maybe he'd been at the Botox. Either way, he was a very handsome powerful man.

We continued to stare at each other and I felt my nipples swell and push out into my see through bra.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Y...y... yes," I stammered.

He leaned down to close the distance between us as though he wanted to kiss me. I took the invite and slowly moved in to finish the job. I could feel his breath on my skin and our lips were just about to touch when he pulled away at the last moment and moved towards the door.

"Put your shoes on and let's go," he said sternly.

I felt disappointed and empty, but this was just another power trip for him. It was another way of telling me that he was in charge.

I slipped my stilettos on and checked myself in the mirror one last time, flicking my hair over my shoulder and bending one leg to admire the outfit.

It was show time.

Charles led me down the corridor and up the stairs without saying another word. The house was silent apart from the clip-clop of my high-heeled shoes echoing off the marble floor. The four-inch heels were difficult to walk in, but I knew I wouldn't have them on for long.

We passed what I assumed was his office at the top of the stairs. The door was ajar and I could see the feint glow of a computer screen which had been left on. On the back wall I noticed rows of filing cabinets which seemed odd in this modern age. Everything was stored on computers or on a cloud server these days. Maybe Charles was paranoid or just old-fashioned.

We carried on along the landing until we got to a room with large double doors. I could hear talking and laughter from the other side and guessed this was where his clients were staying.

"Don't disappoint me," said Charles, taking my hand as we stopped outside. "It's important that you satisfy my clients."

"I never disappoint men when it comes to sex," I snapped, as though he'd said something to offend me.

Charles glared at me before turning back to the doors and pushing them open. He didn't bother knocking, he owned this place and he wanted his clients to know it. I took in the room as he flung the double doors open and escorted me in.

The room was spacious with bi-fold doors opening out onto a large balcony which overlooked the sea. There was a bar in the corner and four long leather sofas forming a square with a low coffee table in the middle. I could see a pool table to the side of me and a huge flat screen tv hanging on the wall. There were rooms off to the left and right and I assumed they were bedrooms for the four men staying here.

Two of the guys were playing pool and two more were stretched out on the sofas. All of them were drinking beer and chatting until we walked in.

The room fell silent and all eyes were now on me.

"Gentlemen, as your host here on my island, I promised you some entertainment and here she is," Charles announced. "May I introduce you to Becca."

He gestured for me to move forwards while holding my hand up high. I did a twirl like a ballerina and smiled shyly at the men.

"One girl?" said the fair-haired guy I'd seen earlier.

He appeared to be the boss of the other three from what I'd seen of him at the plane meeting.

"How is one girl going to be enough between four of us?" he continued, sounding pissed off.

"Believe me, gentlemen, this little slut is worth twenty regular hookers. She will blow your fucking minds."

"And anything else that wants blowing," I added with a naughty wink.

"She'll do for me," laughed one of the men playing pool.

He had shoulder length hair and huge biceps. His T-shirt bulged and looked ready to burst open he was so big.

"Where's the other girl we saw when we came into land?" the lead guy continued. "There was a blonde hottie on the beach."

I thought Charles was about to erupt in a fit of rage with this guy mentioning his daughter, but he managed to contain himself.

"The girl you're referring to is my daughter, Sasha," he pointed out. "She's off limits."

"Ah. Sorry, Mr Hamilton. I didn't realise," he apologised.

Charles waved it away as though it was nothing, but I knew he wasn't happy.

"It's an easy mistake to make," he smiled a false smile. "Don't worry, this little whore will be more than enough for you."

"What can she do that other whores can't?" the lead guy asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Anything you want," I replied. "We can have a stimulating conversation or you can bend me over the pool table and spit roast me. The choice is yours."

One of the men in the sofa let out a quiet gasp of appreciation.

"Right then, I'll leave you all to get better acquainted," said Charles, letting go of my hand. "She's all yours, gentleman. Enjoy her."

With that, he walked out of the room backwards, closing the double doors behind him. Silence returned with the four men all staring at me again. I had absolutely no idea who these men were or what they were expecting from me. I knew they were Americans and, if I didn't, I'd have soon figured it out when they spoke. Their accents made it obvious, but I had no idea which state they were from. It certainly wasn't the Deep South or New York; I could recognise those twangs. The accents weren't strong so maybe they were from middle America, but I certainly wasn't an expert.

I had a thousand questions for them, but any one of my queries could blow my cover so I had to play my part until an opportunity presented itself.

I was supposed to be a high-class hooker so I needed to act like one.

"What's wrong boys? Haven't you seen a woman in her underwear before?" I asked, walking further into the room as they stood in silence.

I over-stepped in my high heels, to make my hips wiggle. As my thighs brushed against each other, I felt the squelch of my wet pussy lips sliding over themselves inside my panties.

I made it to the pool table and approached the guy with the biceps. He had a bottle of Corona in his hand and seemed almost hypnotised by my walk. I got level with him and looked into his nervous eyes. For a terrorist he just looked like a normal guy. I grabbed hold of his beer bottle, took it gently from him and pressed it to my lips. I could taste the lime which was stuffed into the neck of the bottle and then the refreshing golden liquid as I tipped my head back and took a long swig of his ice-cold beer.

"Ahhhhhh," I breathed out and slammed the bottle onto the rail of the pool table. "That hits the spot."

None of the men spoke or moved as I walked up to the second guy at the pool table and took the cue from his hand. I stroked it up and down suggestively and then positioned myself at the table to take a shot.

I made sure that my ass was facing all four men as I slowly bent over, with my legs wider than they needed to be. I arched my back and pushed my butt-cheeks out towards them. The shiny jewel of the butt-plug was plain to see through my sheer knickers and one of the guys finally spoke.

"Jesus Christ," said Biceps. "She's got a butt plug in her ass."

"Do you like it? You can pull it out and replace it with your dick if you like," I said it as though it was nothing.

"Fucking hell, I love the British accent," said his friend. "It sounds so posh and sexy."

I lined up my shot and pulled my cue back.

"Let's see if I can get it in the hole," I said, giving it a double meaning.

I slid the cue forward, hard and fast, smashing the white ball into one of the reds and sending it flying into the corner pocket.

Clunk.

"Mmmmm, I love it when it slams in hard," I purred. "Do you guys have names or will I just call you The Patriots all night?"

I threw the pool cue back to the guy I'd taken it from and he caught it mid-air without breaking a sweat. That told me that he had die-hard reflexes from years of practice.

"I'm Whitehouse," said the fair-haired guy in charge. "This is Capitol, Liberty and Pentagon."

"Pleased to meet you all," I purred, wiggling my way to the bar. "You've certainly got very unusual names."

I got myself a beer from the bar, flipped the top off of it and stuffed some pre-cut lime into the top. I used my lips to push the lime deeper into the bottle, making a show of it.

The men watched me with intrigue.

"We're not stupid enough to use our real names," said Capitol. "We just picked some well-known landmarks in the US."