Freebie Ch. 04

Peter asked,

"Well, do you still intend to let your wife go to meet that man?"

"What makes you think this is anything to do with Mr Aioka?"

"It was him, or to be more accurate, his personal assistant who sent them to me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he knew he'd be over here for a few weeks, and I have a reputation for being able to provide girls for any kind of taste, no matter how weird."

"I don't get it, if you can find him a girl, then what makes you think he will do something like this to Mary?"

"If I find him a girl, it'll cost him five grand plus for just one night. Girls in this country don't go in for that kind of thing lightly. But a leopard doesn't change his spots, and being as Graham is trying to butter this guy up, it's my guess, he's gonna use your wife to do it."

Gerry repeated what I'd told him,

"But Mr Spencer has already said it's just posing in Japanese underwear."

"That is what Mr Aioka calls posing, and as for Japanese underwear, they either wear nothing, western stuff as in my catalogue, or traditional linen wraps. Did he actually say underwear?"

Peter was looking at me when he asked the question.

I thought back, and then tried to repeat the actual words Graham had said,

"I think it was something like, 'He'd seen the photos of me in the underwear and beachwear. And he wanted me to pose for him in traditional Japanese poses. He would provide the...' I'm not sure. I think he said 'things', which I assumed meant underwear or swimwear."

"As I thought. Those photos show the traditional poses he wants, and the things, are ropes, clips, pins and all manner of other ways of causing pain."

Gerry held me close, and I snuggled into his chest.

"So my boy, if I was you I'd tell Graham to find some other sucker."

Gerry went to the phone, and it was obvious from his attitude, he was just telling Graham, and not listening to any kind of excuse or explanation. Then when he came back, he looked at Peter,

"Well I guess I can forget about getting my job back. And now, I'll bet you have some kind of plan of your own."

"Plan? For what?"

"For Mary. Who else?"

"I have no plan. As far as I'm concerned, all I'm gonna do now is leave a card with the name and address of my legal people, just in case Graham ever does try anything silly. You've already got my card, if you do want to contact me. So I guess I'll take my leave."

I looked at Gerry, and my eyes were asking if he thought I should offer to reward Peter for his help. But Gerry just asked,

"What's up with you?"

"Please Peter, can you just wait here a minute, I want to have a quick word with Gerry on my own."

And with that I took his arm and led him into the kitchen.

"We can't just let him go without doing something to show him how much he's done for us."

"Oh I see. You're back to that again. I'm beginning to think this sex thing is like a drug for you. Any man who crosses your path you have to open your legs."

"You ungrateful pig. I've done all this to keep you from prison."

"Yes so you keep banging on. But that's sorted now, and yet you still want an excuse to get him into bed with you."

"I sometimes wonder why I bothered. Don't you understand if it hadn't been for Peter, I'd still be under Graham's control, and those photos you saw would be me tonight? And maybe even worse tomorrow. Well I don't care what you think, I'm going to let Peter know if he wants me; it's the least I can do to repay him."

As I turned and began to walk back to the front room, Gerry said,

"So why did you asked me my opinion, if you'd already made up your mind?"

I ignored him, and as I walked into the front room, I said to Peter,

"We really are grateful for all the help you've given us, I know we haven't got enough money to repay your kindness, but if you want to go upstairs with me, I'll do my best to show you how much we appreciate your help."

"You know what I think about your prowess in that department, but I can see from Gerry's look, it is just been offered as a repayment. So as much as I'd love to take you up on the offer, I think I'll say no. If at any time in the future you want my help, just ask, and if at any time in the future, you offer yourself to me, just because we are friends, then I'll consider it an honour. But an offer made under these circumstances is not what I want; I think you're confusing me with Graham."

As he first started talking, I felt hurt; at first thinking he didn't want sex with me. But then as he continued, my feelings changed, and I somehow felt we'd insulted him.

"Please Peter. It wasn't meant in that way. And I do look upon you as my friend."

"Maybe love. But I know your husband still thinks I'm only doing this to get my hooks into you. So better we part now on good terms."

I reached up and with my arms around Peter's neck I began to kiss. The kiss lasted over a minute, and as our tongues mingled, I felt an exchange of spirits between two lovers. In that brief moment, I knew this could not be the last time Peter and I would be in each others arms. Then as he gently lowered me back to my feet, he held out his hand to Gerry, and said,

"Well my lad. Hope you get your life sorted out. I have only two pieces of advice for you. One; stay well clear of Graham, no matter what he's offering. And second, make sure you take real good care of this little girl. Because if you don't, there's plenty of men out there who will willingly do it for you. And you young lady. Well what can I say, I'm sorry to be saying goodbye, but happy you are now free to make your own choices."

With that he walked out of the room; in seconds was climbing into his car and as I stood in the front doorway with Gerry's arms wrapped around my waist, off drove Peter. My head was racing, not knowing if that was the last time I'd ever see him. Then my trance was broken by,

"Hmm. Maybe he was genuine. I thought all that stuff was just his patter leading up to getting you working in one of his brothels."

"Gerry! You really are crude. Even if he had been trying to persuade me to work for him, it wouldn't have been like that."

"Look girl, it doesn't matter how it would have been, if you work for him selling your body for sex, you're a whore and that's that."

The next few days were very strange, Gerry not going to work, and not even going out of the house looking for it. We had argument after argument, neither of us knowing in what direction our life would take, or even in what direction we wanted it to go. Gerry collected all his pay owing to him from work, and with the other money from those two men and the dance competition; we had around two grand to live on. Not much, once the monthly mortgage had been taken out, especially knowing there wouldn't be another pay check next month.

Then out of the blue came an invitation to the next round of the dance competition, to be held this time in Manchester, a large town about a hundred or so miles away. As soon as Gerry read it, his eyes lit up,

"That's it, if you win this one, it'll solve our money worries."

I had also been thinking, but I'd been trying to work out how I could even think about entering.

"It will; will it? Well for one, I need a dress. You won't get much change out of a grand for the complete outfit. And then there's entrance money, hotel, and who am I going to dance with?"

"I hadn't thought about that. What about if I phone Mr Spencer and see if he can pull any strings?"

"My god Gerry, don't you dare."

"But he was the one who organised the dress and a dancing partner last time."

"Yes, and if you remember, that Japanese bloke was some kind of business contact of his, so it's a little more than a coincidence, that we got involved with him, don't you think?"

"Well maybe he'll have gone home by now."

"You're not phoning Graham, if it isn't that Jap, he'll find some other man to humiliate me with. What about if I phone Peter?"

"But he didn't organise any of that stuff, and I can't see him paying for a dress or hotel."

"You're right; we couldn't expect him to pay out unless we do something for him."

"Are you still going on about having sex with him?"

"No."

The subject was dropped, and as the next week passed by, our arguments increased in frequency and bitterness, and by now Gerry had taken to going out in the afternoons to the pub. Although I resented this, because we couldn't afford it, it did give me a welcome break from our constant rowing. While he was out one afternoon, the phone rang,

"4 3 6 5 8 7."

"Hello, is that Mrs Mary Kendal?"

"Yes, who wants to know?"

"Well my name is Jeff Bland, and I represent the Matrix Organisation. I assume you've heard of us, we produce the dance show on Saturday night television."

"Yes, but what do you want me for?"

"You won the last round of the preliminary competitions, and we expected you to take part in the next one, but you haven't returned your entrance application."

"I won't be competing."

"Why ever not?"

"A little thing called money."

"But I was led to believe you were being sponsored by a wealthy business group."

"Maybe that was who sponsored me for the last competition, but not anymore."

"Well if there's anything I can do to talk to them, I might be able to persuade them about the advantages of continuing their support."

"No thank you, it was my decision to end the connection between us."

There was a few seconds pause,

"Well I won't pry into your reasons for making that decision, but we would still like to see you in future competitions, and you do realise, winning that last one gives you automatic entry into our up coming series on the TV? Surely you'll be competing in that?"

"I hadn't realised, but even if I'm entitled, I still have the same problem."

"But don't tell me you'll miss out on the opportunities being on TV will create for you."

"What opportunities?"

"They're endless. Once you've appeared on our program, you'll get invitations to appear on all kind of TV shows. You'll automatically become a celeb, and that means you can ask money just for going to events, and almost never have to buy things like theatre tickets, meals, clothes, and even sometimes jewellery. The list of things people will want you to endorse is endless. If you can't afford the necessary to compete, I can recommend and introduce you to several companies who will support your entrance expenses."

"Why would they do that?"

"As an investment, knowing even if you don't win, just the TV exposure will allow you to generate any money they loan you."

"I didn't realise it could be that profitable."

"Just let me send someone to see you to explain it all. There will be no obligation to take up their offer."

"Ok, but make sure they ring me first so I can have someone here who'll be able to advise me."

"Ok, will do, and I hope we see you entering for the next round. Bye for now."

My first action was to pick the phone back up and ring Peter to ask if he would be available when the person came to see me. I knew I wouldn't be able to decide if it was a good idea to accept what ever terms they offered, and Gerry wouldn't be much better than me. But Peter said in his opinion, it was pointless the person coming at all, and he suggested he should come and explain his reasons to Gerry and I together. So knowing Gerry would be home later, I arranged for Peter to call to see us around seven in the evening.

When Gerry arrived home from his afternoons drinking, I gave him his evening meal, and told him about the two telephone conversations I'd had while he was out. The first one got him excited, but on hearing I'd arranged for Peter to come and advise us, this dampened his enthusiasm. But around seven, Peter arrived, and I showed him into the front room. He then told us, that in his opinion, the dance competition was a really positive way forward, and he even said,

"I'm not sure old Graham intended it to work in your favour, but getting you to that competition was the best thing he could have done for you."

He went on to explain all the things the man on the phone had mentioned about capitalising on a TV appearance were true. And he even added, if handled by an agent, I could make a career from just one appearance. But he strongly advised against going through any of the many sponsors that I'd find willing to back my attempt. Again, in his opinion, unless they were backing me to gain advertising from my appearance, he said their motives would be the interest they would make on the money loaned to me. And as this would be a very substantial sum, it could take me years to pay it back. And leave me in the position where if the future career didn't pan out, I could be deep in debt for years, or even loose our house.

Gerry didn't look pleased at Peter's advice, and he said,

"So even though you think she could make loads of money, you don't think it's worth the gamble?"

"It's your choice, but, and I'm not saying your Mary can't dance; you did say that last competition was fixed. There are so many who've gone this way before, and come unstuck."

"So should she just give-up on her dream?"

"No. But if you could earn enough money to get the ball rolling, and then just do a single job every time you need to top-up the kitty. That way if she wins competitions on her own merit, and the money does start rolling in, it'll all be spends. But if things don't turnout, you won't end up in debt."

"I get it. You're back to trying to get Mary working in one of your whore houses?"

"Not quite. But I do have a couple of clients who saw her dancing the other week, and either or both of them would pay handsomely to take her out for the evening."

"Yes, but she'd still be working as a whore, and you'd still take your cut?"

"Well her job title would actually be 'An Escort', but yes, she'd be whoring. And yes I'd take my ten percent. But at around two grand a man, she'd make a net of three-thousand six-hundred for just two nights. And she'd be wined and dined at the very best places, and I can guarantee she won't have to put up with any rough stuff."

I still hadn't spoken, as I thought Gerry was fighting my cause quite effectively. But as Gerry heard the amounts of money to be made, I could see his excitement building. Then he asked,

"Are you sure you can get that much money for just one fuck?"

"I told you before, it's the desirability factor. They know she's gonna be on TV, so they can brag to their colleagues, 'I've fucked her'. Once she's actually done her first show, I'll be upping the anti to five grand a time."

"Jesus Mary. I bet you never knew just how valuable that pussy you're sitting on was worth?"

I replied in a disapprovingly sarcastic tone,

"You're right. But I also never imagined you put so little value on it."

He looked at Peter,

"What the fuck is it with her? I don't know what I've done; but what ever I say I'm in the wrong."

Peter didn't reply to Gerry, but turned and said to me softly,

"I know it's a hard pill to swallow, but if you just do these first two jobs, it'll give you enough funds to enter the next few competitions, and keep your household bills up to date. If you're winning competitions by then, and as your fame grows, maybe I could get you some legitimate advertising."

I didn't answer, but just sat there with my head hung low, shaking it side to side. Gerry said,

"It don't look like she's interested. And it wouldn't surprise me if I'm in the spare room tonight. I guess you'd better go."

"Ok, I'll leave. And if you still want to take up a loan, I will try to get here to advise you. Bye for now."

As soon as he'd gone, and it wasn't even seven-thirty, I went up to my room, got into bed, and that was me for the night. Gerry didn't attempt to join me, but he spent the night as he'd predicted, in the spare room. I didn't actually go straight to sleep when I'd gone up stairs; I lay there into the early hours of the morning, just running various scenarios through my head. I was up and doing housework by the time Gerry decided to come down stairs, and his first words were spoken in a very submissive tone.

"Are we cool?"

"I guess so. I'm sorry about last night; I know it wasn't your fault."

"So I guess I'll have to think about going to the job centre?"

"Maybe. But before we do anything, I think we should talk."

We both sat down, and he held my hand,

"Ok, what are you thinking?"

"I haven't decided anything yet, but let me just run these ideas past you. First, you could do what you've just said, go find a job, and I'll go back to being a dreary housewife."

"You're not dreary."

"No please don't speak; I'll loose my train of thought."

"Sorry."

"Well that is one option."

"Then I could wait for this man from the TV Company to send someone to sponsor me. And maybe, just maybe, if my dancing is good enough. And if my face clicks when I do TV interviews, then I could become a celeb. But that is a big risk."

I paused before daring to say the next option.

"Ok, you know the third option, but if I spell this out; I don't want any comments about me being sex crazy."

"I'm Shtum."

"Well if I do let Peter find men, at least if I'm not any good at dancing, at least I'll have given it my best shot, and we won't be in debt."

"Can I speak?"

"Yes, I want to know what you think?"

"You've obviously thought this through. And it's also obvious; you want to try the dancing. Like you just said, once you've tried, if it don't workout, I can always look for work then, but we won't be starting with a big debt to repay."

"So you think I should phone Peter?"

"I guess so."

"You know what that will make me?"

"Yes, but it isn't as if you're gonna keep doing it."

"And there won't be any snide remarks?"

"No babe. You know I'm with you all the way."

So move on a week, Peter has advanced me the money to enter the next round of the competition. Supplied me with a wardrobe of a dozen dresses and underwear. And even managed to locate Trav, and persuade him to be my permanent partner. But this now meant, any competition money earned, would be split two ways. But that was better than none at all. So now my days are taken up with dance practice, while Gerry spends his mornings in bed, and his afternoons down the pub.

I think it was about two or three weeks after making my decision, that I got a call from Peter, asking me to be ready at around seven the next evening, I'd be picked up by a taxi, and meet a Mr Yardley at the Holiday Inn. He also told me to expect an express delivery; he'd sent me a supply of yellow pills. The pills arrived that same day by motorcycle dispatch rider. The next evening, I was ready, and the taxi was on time, but I'd made up my mind to do this without the help of the pills. So about seven-thirty, as I step out from the cab, a very distinguished gentleman was waiting to take my hand.

"Good evening Mrs Kendal, I'm Mr Yardley. I think you're expecting me?"

I took his hand, gave a slight bow, and replied,

"Yes. But please call me Mary."

There was some small talk, where he also told me his first name, which was Alan, and then he escorted me into the hotel. We dined in the main restaurant, and as you might expect, the meal was sumptuous. I did drink some wine, but not too much, I wanted to be sure I kept my wits about me. After the meal, we talked, nothing of any consequence, just me agreeing with any opinion he put forward. Then around nine-thirty, he took me through to the ballroom, where there were about thirty or so couples just dancing in a relaxed manner around the floor.

We joined them, and though not a competition dancer, this man knew not only how to dance, but how to hold a girl and provide the all important lead. The next hour or so was so pleasant, just floating around, not having to impress any judges, but still being with a real dancer. Even if he was in my dad's age group! I later found out he was actually sixty-two years old! I'd only guessed in his early fifties. But all that aside, his behaviour and conversation was impeccable, and it was hard to believe what the real purpose of this evening was.