Becca XXX. The Eden Project. Ch. 01

Authors note:- This is my third story in the Becca series. Please read 'Poor Becca' followed by 'Becca Xxx' before reading this or you may not understand the plot or characters.

Becca XXX. The Eden Project. Ch 01.

I hadn't been to the facility for some time and it felt weird to be going back to where it all began. I was meeting Lexa who was going to brief me on my new assignment, after already telling me who I was going to be working for.

George.

He was the guy from one of the G-spot clubs I had been working at as an undercover prostitute. I didn't have the full details yet, but my blood was already boiling just from thinking about how the pervert had treated me last time we'd met. Just because he was a retired police commissioner didn't give him the right to treat young women like fuck toys. I would have to bite my tongue and listen to the assignment brief before I started ranting on about locking the fucker up, rather than helping him.

The blindfold bag was removed from my head and I was walked into the briefing room. The place was still top secret and I wondered if anyone knew where it was. Even Lexa told me she was given the same treatment.

She was already in the briefing room when I arrived, with photos and paperwork strewn across the table. She seemed flustered which was unusual for her, she was usually so calm and collected.

"Hiya sexy," I said, as I took a seat.

"Hello, Rebecca. It's nice to see you again," she was in work mode, despite her fucking my brains out the previous night with a ten inch strap on. It was as though we weren't lovers. "Take a seat."

I sat opposite her with a childish smile on my face just to be petulant. She looked stern and business like in her black skirt suit, but I knew what underwear she had on underneath. I'd seen her put it on that morning when she left my penthouse. They were white lace knickers with a matching bra and looked amazing against her tanned skin. I also knew she was wet down there. I'd kissed her passionately as she left and I'd even slipped my fingers into her moist crotch to feel the wetness start to flow out of her juicy pussy.

However, this was all about business now so I put my dirty thoughts to one side and concentrated on the brief. She was stone faced and that told me that this was no time to be messing about.

"So what's the assignment?" I asked, sitting up straight.

"Do you remember a guy called George from your time at G-spot exclusive club?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. He was a seventy year old pervert who had a thing for abusing young girls," I stated.

"That may be true Becca, but he's also a very respected retired police chief and he has had some very bad news," she washed over the fact that he treated young girls like a collection of holes to stick his dick in.

"What sort of news?"

"His granddaughter has been found dead in a small village south of London," she looked me directly in the eye to make sure I understood the seriousness of the matter.

"Her death is being treated as suspicious, but the police are unable to find any leads," she continued.

"Suspicious how?" I asked.

"Her name was Hannah and she was nineteen years old. She was found in a small patch of woods by a dog walker with no visible injuries. No one knows where she's been for the last two years as she ran away from her family. She actually used to live two hundred miles further north until she ran away from home."

She slid some photos over the table to me. They showed a young girls naked body, pasty white with long blonde hair. There were pictures of her body in the undergrowth where she was found and then more of her laid out on a pathologists table after she'd been cleaned up. She was stunning and it seemed such a waste of life to me. Whatever her issues were, she hadn't deserved this.

"What was the cause of death?"

She paused a little too long.

"Uncertain at this time," she replied. "She had a needle mark in her arm and she also had puncture marks in her abdomen, but that wouldn't have killed her."

She knew more than she was telling me, but I let it go.

"Drug overdose?" I quizzed.

"Maybe. They found drugs in her system, but it wasn't recreational drugs, it was medical grade anesthetic."

"That's weird," I said.

"I know. Pathology are still working on finding out the cause of death, but they also found a lot of DNA on her body."

"DNA as in semen?" I asked.

"Yes. So far they they've found DNA from a number of different men. It was found in her hair, on her skin, inside her vagina and anus," she said. "They haven't matched it to anyone yet."

"Sounds like she was gang raped if you ask me," I said.

"That was my first thought, but there's no evidence of a struggle. There's no bruising or rope marks so whatever happened on that score, we think she was a willing participant."

"Sounds like she went out with a bang," I laughed inappropriately.

Lexa gave me a small smile, but carried on being stern and serious.

"She was also pregnant," she announced.

"Oh fuck, that's terrible," I gasped.

We sat in silence for a moment as I tried to take it all in and come up with an idea of what may have happened to her.

"Maybe she was into sex parties or orgies or bukkake," I said. "Maybe the responsible people panicked at the thought of bringing up a child so they killed her and hid her in the woods."

"There's a thousand and one possibilities Becca, but we need to find out the facts before jumping to conclusions."

"So why am I involved? Surely George knows a lot of his old police buddies who can help him out?" I said.

"They've come up with nothing. No one in the village seems to know anything about her. I need you to go undercover and see what you can find out."

"Am I going dogging again?" I laughed, remembering my last mission as an undercover hooker.

"No not this time. We've got you a job in the village which is far more fitting your special skill set," she laughed.

"Go on. What is it this time?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Well...you're trained in reading body language, basic psychology and your sexual skills are second to none so we found you the ideal job. You're going undercover as a sex therapist."

"A sex therapist? Really?" I was pretty shocked.

"It's perfect for you and a position came up a few days ago. We've pulled in some favours and you start on Monday."

"Holy fuck that does sound exciting," I gasped. "Sorting our people's sexual issues will be great fun."

"I knew you'd like it Doctor Reynolds," she smiled.

"Doctor Reynolds?"

"Yes that's your new cover name. You are now Doctor Rebecca Reynolds," she passed me a passport and driving license along with some other documents. "All of your career history and qualifications will check out if anyone looks into them, we've had them falsified just in case."

"Rebecca Reynolds the sex therapist," I repeated, smiling to myself.

"Yes, I think it suits you. Usually I'd say keep a low profile, but I want you to get yourself noticed and make a name for yourself in the village. Small communities tend to gossip and we need people to know who you are and what you do, that way you may find out what's going on down there, especially as it seems sex related," she said. "If there are sex parties going on maybe you'll get invited to one."

"I think I can manage that," I laughed, already thinking of the local villagers discovering they had a slut moving in.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," said Lexa.

A familiar face walked through the door and despite what I thought of him, I couldn't, but help feel for his loss.

George came over and Lexa gave him a hug.

"Sorry for your loss," she said.

He repeated the process with me and I also gave him my sympathy.

"I see you have your top operator on the case," he said, taking a seat.

"Yes. I know you two have history, but she is the best we have at this sort of thing as I'm sure you are aware," said Lexa.

"Of course.... it's all water under the bridge," he said, giving me a lecherous look and glancing at my cleavage. "I've heard all about your last assignment Rebecca, you did some exceptional work."

"Thank you," I replied, wondering if he even remembered fucking me. "Do you have any other information you think maybe helpful? Did she have a boyfriend or friends that knew what she was into?"

"The police have drawn a blank on all of it," he replied. "No one is telling them anything, that's why I thought about hiring you for undercover work to find out what happened. All the information they have is in the files," he pointed at the paperwork on the desk.

"What made her run away from home?"

"She never got on with her parents at all. I don't know why, I think she got in with a bad crowd and finished up running away. No one's seen or heard from her for a couple of years now."

"I'll do my very best to find out what happened to her George," I said.

"Thank you, Rebecca. If anyone can find out what happened I'm sure you can. We just want closure."

I looked at her picture again and wondered how she ended up where she did. I was going back to working undercover after four weeks off and I couldn't wait to get stuck into the new assignment.

****

A few days later and I was already into the swing of things. The village was bigger than I thought it would be, but was still very quaint and rural. It was difficult to believe that a young girl could have been gang fucked and then killed and left in the woods. I just couldn't get it to fit and I wondered if something bigger was going on here.

I was living in a rented cottage on the outskirts of the village and it had all modern conveniences. It was functional, but not a patch on my million pound penthouse suite in the city. I was here to blend in and not let people know about my true lavish lifestyle. Even my car was an old banger instead of the white Porsche I usually drove. My possessions had to match my sex therapists wage and although I needed to get noticed it had be believable. I had no idea what sort of people I would be dealing with.

My first day at work had been slow, but it had allowed me to get to grips with the procedures of my new job. I had researched it tirelessly before I got there to ensure I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. Hopefully I wouldn't be there for too long and I would be gone before anyone realised I wasn't as qualified as the certificates on the wall said I was.

My treatment room was plush and modern and was part of the medical facility in the village. It was furnished like a relaxing living room rather than a treatment room. It had a sofa, which folded out into a bed and arm chairs to make people feel more at ease. It serviced the surrounding area and was the central hub for normal medical problems as well as my sex therapy. It turned out that sex therapy was in high demand in this part of the world, despite the stigma attached to it and the rural location.

On my second day I finally got my first patient. He was about forty and his name was Malcolm and he had lived in the village all his life, so I thought he may be able to help me with information about the death of George's daughter.

"Hello, Doctor Reynolds, thank you for taking the time to see me," he said, shaking my hand.

"Nice to meet you. Please take a seat." I said. "May I call you Malcolm? I like to keep things relaxed."

"Of course, doctor," he replied.

He sat on the sofa opposite me. I was sitting in a comfy armchair, but I was sitting on the edge in an upright position to remain more professional rather than slouching. I had my notepad in my lap ready to write things down like real sex therapists do.

He slouched in his jeans and T shirt. He was nice looking but not a stunner. His body wasn't ripped but he wasn't overweight. If I was to describe him, I'd say he was Mr. average except for the enormous bulge in his jeans. I couldn't help but notice the long sausage shape down the inside of his left thigh, it was at least seven inches long and it wasn't even hard.

Blood flooded to my genitals making them swell inside my lace panties. My nipples engorged and pinged out at the thought of what was in his pants.

"So, Malcolm, how can I help you today?" I asked, putting on my best doctor's voice.

"Well...it's kind of embarrassing really," he said lowering his head.

"Everything you tell me in here is confidential and I'm not here to judge in any way. I'm here to help you and offer advice," I was even convincing myself.

"Well.... I'm just not very sexually confident when it comes to women and I'd like that to change."

"Okaaayyy.... have you any idea why that might be? Has anything ever happened to you to make you less confident?" I was intrigued and loving my new job already.

"There were a few instances back in high school when I used to get bullied," he murmured.

"Would you like to discuss them? I find that talking about these things always helps and from there we can move forward."

He shifted on the sofa and was a quiet for a moment.

"Other boys would pull my shorts down at school, in front of the girls and they would all laugh at me," he said, sounding sad as he relived his past.

"Young people can be very cruel, but you can't let that get the better of you," I said.

He stayed quiet for another moment. Half the job of being a sex therapist was to listen rather than tell them what the problem was. They had to figure it out for themselves.

"I know, but it was so humiliating to have people laugh at my junk that it has put me off taking my clothes off in front of women."

"But you have had sex with women? Right?"

"Yes a few, but not many and I have paid for sex as well on a few occasions. It was just easier that way."

"Easier how?"

"I didn't have to go through the awkwardness of chatting the girl up and I knew she wouldn't laugh at me when I got naked," he said.

"Have any of the girls you've slept with ever laughed at you?" I asked.

"No never. I think it's all in my head."

"Your body looks better than you think. You stay in shape yes?"

"I do a bit to keep the weight off but that's all. I'm don't have an amazing body like you," he smiled.

He lifted his head and looked me over for the first time. I was used to men checking me out and I was surprised it had taken him so long. He started with my face and worked his way down, pausing at my breasts before continuing down and settling his gaze at the hem of my short skirt.

"You're too kind," I cooed.

I was wearing a white blouse and grey mid length skirt. My blouse was undone enough to show my cleavage and the top of my black lace bra. I was wearing a suspender belt and black stockings as well as a lace thong. I liked to feel womanly and sexy even if I was undercover, plus it gave my clients a glimpse of my slutty side if they saw my bra. To finish the look I was wearing a white lab coat with my name tag on and a pair of thick black rimmed glasses. My hair was tied back in a pony tail to give a professional look, but I ended up looking like a horny medical secretary.

Malcolm's hand went to his crotch to adjust his huge cock which I guessed was now waking up.

"You should feel happy with the way you look. There is nothing you can do to change it anyway, so just enjoy who you are. If no one has laughed at you when you're naked it means there's nothing to laugh at. Maybe we can try an exercise to make you feel more comfortable when you're naked in front of a woman?" I said.

"You want me to get naked?" he said, going bright red.

"There's just you and me here and I'm not going to laugh at you. It's all part of feeling good about yourself," I genuinely wanted to help him, plus I wanted to see how big his cock really was when it was fully erect.

"I usually get undressed in the dark and then have sex under the covers so they can't see me," he spluttered.

"How about I strip off in front of you and show you how easy it is?" I said. "Would that be satisfactory?"

"What? Like, you show me yours and I'll show you mine?" he laughed, for the first time since he'd sat down.

"If you like," I said.

He sat in silence looking at my cleavage. He was probably imagining what I looked like naked and if it was worth him pushing his own boundaries to see my breasts in all their glory.

I didn't wait for an answer, I just stood up and slid my lab coat off and threw it on the chair behind me. My black lace bra showed through my flimsy blouse and my nipples poked out like ripe berries.

"It's all about feeling good about yourself. I want you to feel like a stud or a porn star and show me what you've got. I know there's an animal inside you waiting to get out," I said.

He gulped as I undid my buttons and let my blouse slip from my shoulders onto the floor. I stood there sticking my chest out to show him my boobs.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Wow. They are so full and pert," he stammered. "You're so brazen about it."

"That's how you have to be. Don't just 'think' you're beautiful, 'know' you are."

My pussy was moistening by the second. I was almost doing a striptease for him.

"Now it's your turn. I want you to stand up with confidence and take your T shirt off. Imagine you're a porn star and the world is watching you. Imagine everyone wants to see you remove your clothes," I said.

He stood up with slumped shoulders and adjusted his cock in his pants again. I could see the outline against the crease in his left hip now, he was semi hard.

"No!" I spat. "Sit down and do it again - this time with confidence. You're a stud about to take on the young filly. Show her who's boss."

He sat down and gathered himself and after a quick look at my tits bulging out of my bra, he stood up with his head held high and his chest puffed out. He gripped the bottom of his T shirt and peeled it over his head and stood in front of me smiling.

"Wow, that's much better. How do you feel?" I asked, swaying back slightly.

"I feel good," he said quite convincingly.

"You have a nice body. You should feel good about it," I swooned. "I've also noticed a rather large bulge in your pants," I nodded at his crotch.

He immediately covered it with his hands and went red in the face.

"Don't be embarrassed, you've got a gorgeous woman in front of you with her breasts on show, it's perfectly normal to have an erection," I said.

He moved his hands to his sides.

"Can I see them?" he asked shyly.

"See what?" I asked, trying to bring him out of his shell a little.

"Your....... boobs.... please," he stammered.

I unclipped my bra and threw it on the chair behind me. I made no attempt to cover myself and enjoyed the cool air around my perky tits.

"Amazing, aren't they? Do you like my dark nipples? Look how erect they are," I gasped.

"They're gorgeous," he said, hiding his crotch again.

I cleared my throat and nodded at his hands to indicate I wanted them moving.

He obeyed and I saw he was now fully erect and bursting to escape. It was at least nine inches long and very thick. The tightness of his jeans left little to the imagination and I could even see the outline of his helmet through the denim material.

"Do you see how I'm complimenting myself? I'm telling you they're gorgeous and erect and pert. Whether I believe it or not, I'm making out that I'm confident about my body. You need to do the same. Do you understand where I'm coming from here?" I said.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Right then. Tell me something good about your body and then I'll take off another item of my clothing," I said, snapping the waistband of my skirt.

He thought for a moment and then said, "Look at my big biceps. I work out down the gym three times a week."

He flexed his muscles and although he wasn't ripped he had a decent enough body to show the definition of his upper arms.