Lily's Story

This story includes some references to UK television. I think the story stands as a story even if you're unfamiliar with these - so please don't be put off from reading it.

...

Lily Sanderson. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Figure like a wet dream. I never got to see much daytime TV, but my missus did, and whenever she did, Lily would be there. Alongside Richard Stewart - one for the ladies. In the same way as Lily was one for the gentlemen. It seemed to me that there could be few straight men under eighty who didn't fancy Lily. I knew nothing about TV, but surely, they were the UK TV producers' dream team. An attractive professional couple who you'd like to watch. I never imagined that I would get to meet either of them.

I should explain that I run what, on telly at least, they call a detective agency. We're based in a hard manor in South London. I suppose we've garnered a reputation over the years. It's not very glamorous though. We do a lot of debt collection. However, I don't chase housewives who are behind with the fridge payments. My specialty is dealing with wide boys who can afford to pay up, but who don't see why they should. Someone who drives a Beemer, lives in a six-bedroom house and refuses to pay the builder who handled his extension and is desperately trying to stay afloat. To handle this type of work, I employ blokes like Grant - a large persuasive man. I tell Grant he's in charge of the department for encouraging people. He's also in charge of the department for discouraging people - that being the other side of the same coin.

Then one day, out of the blue, Lily Sanderson is in my outer office. She was wrapped up and wore dark glasses. She looked so incognito that if you saw her on the street, you'd ask yourself "Who the fuck is that? It's got to be somebody." In the unlikely event that she needed my services I would never have expected her to turn up like this in person. Surely, she'd have someone to do that. However, I soon found out that she had a very sensitive matter to deal with, and wouldn't trust it to anyone else. But I'll let Lily herself tell you more.

...

I've known Richard for ever. Even before we worked together, we came across each other all the time at awards shows and showbiz parties. We always hit it off, and I think it was inevitable that we would end up working together. Daytime TV depends on a rapport between the presenters, and it must exist outside of the show. You can't manufacture it for the show. Richard was always a ladies' man. He had a wife - poor woman! He had never bothered me. I was also married, with kids. I think he had an instinctive feel for where the possibilities were, and they didn't lie with me.

Nevertheless, there came that day when we had to attend an awards show out of town, and he invited me to his hotel room about an hour before we had to leave. He said we needed to talk about what we would say in our acceptance speech. We knew we would win, we usually did..

We both sat on the sofa in his room, and suddenly, Richard is pushing his pants down over his hips and getting out his cock. I said "Fuck me Richard, what the hell are you doing?"

He said, "Lily, I'm desperate. I've taken some Viagra."

I said "Is that why it's so big?"

It was as though I had offended his manhood. He stammered "No, no it usually quite big."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Lily" he said, "I don't know what to do."

"Well Richard, a wank is favourite, surely?"

"Could you touch it, and get me started?"

"You sound like a 1920's automobile. What's this, your starting handle? Richard, does this approach usually work? I mean, give a girl a break. Take me out to dinner. Give me a good time. Don't whip out your todger and smack me in the eye with it!"

"Come on Lily. You know that just a touch from you will do the trick."

I had no fear of Richard. Currently, he looked helpless and a bit pathetic. I'll admit to being curious, and also, to a touch of devilry. I wrapped my hand around his cock and felt the weight of it. It was impressive. "The most you'll get from me is a hand job." I said. "And that's because I'm feeling wicked."

He said to me "Do you have any moisturiser in your bag." I put some moisturiser on my palm and rubbed it onto the head of his cock. Then I grabbed the head and rubbed down the whole length. He groaned with pleasure. I did this a couple more times - more groans - then I thought better of it."

"That's it" I said. "I'm out of here. Let me know how it goes. On second thoughts. Don't. Let's never talk about this again."

I feel that I need to explain myself, to myself. For a woman, a man's cock embodies a threat - a threat of penetration. In normal circumstances you stay away from the cock, unless you're prepared to accept the possibility of penetration. Nevertheless, heterosexual women are fascinated by men's cocks, in the same way as heterosexual men are fascinated by women's pussies. I remember a female friend confiding in me. Admittedly, she was so pissed she could barely stand. "Cocks are wonderful" she said.

I had to admit to a certain fascination with Richard's cock. I'd never encountered it before. I had a sense of impunity. This didn't seem like a sexual situation between a man and a woman, more like a transaction between a supplicant and a donor.

But even then, at that point, I suspected that I'd made a mistake. But it took a couple of weeks for me to find out just how massive that mistake was. When I look back, it was the most wilful, and the most stupid thing I had ever done.

...

"So, Miss Sanderson, Mr Stewart claims to have video of you masturbating him?"

"Not just claims. He has it."

"And is this video fake?"

"Ah, there's the problem. Most of it is fake, but not all of it. He hired the same hotel room and got some slapper to play my part. He even got her to wear my shade of nail varnish. She gets his cock out, and gives him a good handling. If it was completely fake, I'd take my chances. If something like this got into the public domain, the press would be all over it. They'd examine it forensically. If it was discovered as a fake, it would rebound on Richard. Unfortunately, there's a section with my hand on his cock. I did that. The stupidest thing I've ever done. All through daring and mischievousness. And there's some clever audio. 'Fuck me, Richard', 'It's so big', 'Give a girl a break', 'Give me a good time'. All phrases I used, but not in the context he claims. What is so clever is that he obviously had two hidden cameras. One long shot and one close-up. In TV we say 'if you control the edit, you control the narrative'. He had control of the edit."

"So, how bad would it be if he released this video?"

"Well, it looks like he was importuned by a rampant female. He doesn't let it go on and bales out before she's able to get anywhere with him. He looks like an innocent victim. It would do him no harm at all. Me, on the other hand they would crucify. I would lose the best and most lucrative job I've ever had. I can't take the risk that people would accept that it was fake, and all down to clever editing. Not when there's a crucial part that's genuine."

"And Mr Stewart gave you a copy of this video, with a threat to release it unless you had sex with him?"

"I brought it with me on a memory stick. Look for yourself."

We watched it together on my laptop. He'd done a brilliant job. But then he worked in TV. It was perfectly possible that he had professional help. I doubted it though. Most video editors can't keep their sticky fingers to themselves. Copies get taken. It's difficult to stop this stuff getting into the wild.

"So, how did you respond to Mr Stewart's demand?"

"Well, I had sex with him. I didn't know what else to do!"

"You had sex -" I almost threw up my hands. I stopped myself in time, but she must have seen the expression on my face.

"I know, I know. Horses and stable doors and all that stuff."

I think this particular horse has bolted several fields away!" I said.

"I know. I know. If I've already had sex with him, what do I want from you."

"Well, Miss Sanderson, I guess it not a round of applause!"

"The problem is, as I might have guessed, that he's not finished with me. He's starting to behave as though he owns me. The other day, just before we were due on air, he followed me into a cubicle in the ladies. He pushed me up against the wall, pulled my skirt up around my waist, and pushed his hand down inside my tights and pants. He pushed his middle finger into me. If he'd had more time, I think he might have tried to rape me."

She was obviously upset when remembering this assault. She was quiet for a bit. I said nothing but just waited for her. There was clearly more to come.

"Then, on the actual show, there was more. We're usually side by side, speaking to camera, but occasionally, to share a joke for example, we look at each other. On a couple of occasions, when I looked at him, he scratched his upper lip with his middle finger. He didn't breathe in or anything, but he was reminding me that he still had me on his finger. He was effectively sniffing my pussy live on air! God, the more I think about him, the more he disgusts me. Now he keeps inviting me to lunch at his place when his wife is out. He wants me to meet a couple of his friends. I seriously think he wants to pimp me to his influential mates."

I was appalled. "I see. This guy is a piece of work, isn't he? How do you think I may be able to help?"

"I must admit I'm not really sure. Could you send someone round?"

"A heavy, you mean? He doesn't seem to me the kind of man to react to a threat. And if he did release his video, there would no point in acting after the event. I'll be frank. We could beat him up, though you didn't hear that from me. However, he would suspect you had something to do with it. His revenge might well be to release the video. It costs him and his reputation nothing. He wouldn't have to prove that you'd arranged the beating. He could simply imply that, and everyone would believe him. You'd come across even worse, and possibly face an assault charge. No, we must think again. Tell me, would I be right in thinking that Richard Stewart thinks you want sex with him? Even now?"

"Of course, he does. He's an arrogant prick. He thinks every woman wants to have sex with him."

"We might be able to use that. I need to give this some thought. Can I come back to you in a day or so? I could come to you. You don't want to be seen coming here."

"That's very thoughtful of you. I'll wait for your call."

"I will definitely be in touch. And stay away from Mr Stewart, except in a professional setting."

...

She wrapped herself up and left. I thought long and hard about Richard Stewart. Lily Sanderson was a powerful lady. She didn't need anything from him. If he was prepared to do this to her, what would he be capable of with other women in the industry? Particularly those who wanted or needed something from him. For the moment I couldn't see an answer to Lily's dilemma. I realised that she must have been desperate to come to someone like me. I was determined to help her if I could.

Over the next week, an idea started to form in my brain. I had to think it over carefully. How it would work - the implications for Lily. It wasn't pretty. She might take some persuading. I noticed that privately, I was now thinking of her as Lily. However, I'd still call her Miss Sanderson to her face. I called Lily and suggested a meeting. We agreed to meet at the TV centre. I asked if she could also arrange for me to meet Richard Stewart on the same day. I wanted to try to persuade him to back off, without taking the rather drastic course of action that I had in mind.

I decided to take Grant with me for my meeting with Richard - just for his physical presence really. The great thing, actually, just one of the great things, about Grant, is that I could take him anywhere. Unlike most hard men, he was without a temper. I had never seen him angry - determined, and forceful yes, but never angry. In fact, when I thought about it, I would never want to see Grant angry.

I was able to meet up with Lily the following day. I left Grant in reception and had a private word with her. I outlined my idea. It involved her having sex with Richard Stewart once more. I would never have suggested it had she not had sex with him already. She was understandably reluctant, but when I outlined how it would work, she came round to the idea. I knew that she'd appeared in a soap in her early career. Those acting skills might be useful. I told her that I was going to try to persuade Mr Stewart to back off. If he did then we wouldn't need to put my plan into effect.

I fetched Grant from reception, and Lily showed us into a meeting room. She went away and came back with Richard Stewart. Immediately he entered the room, he said "Fuck me. Who are you? Lily's black sheep brothers?"

Lily didn't respond. She just said "This is Phil and Grant. Some friends of mine. I'll leave you to talk." And she left the room.

Richard said "Phil and Grant? Shouldn't you boys be in the Queen Vic? I hate to tell you lads, but you're on the wrong channel over here."

We never rise to this sort of crap. "Mr Stewart, I understand you have some compromising video involving Miss Lily Sanderson, and that you have threatened to release this?"

He said nothing. I continued "I want to urge you to delete this material, and not threaten Miss Sanderson any further."

Still nothing. "Mr Stewart, I understand that you've had your fun with Miss Sanderson, maybe more fun than you deserve. Please. Leave the lady alone now."

I thought just maybe, there was chance that he had a better nature.

Finally, he spoke to me. "As you say, perhaps I've had some fun. But you've seen Miss Sanderson, as you call her. I just think there may be more fun to be had."

"Mr Stewart. Please leave it alone now. If you don't there are some steps we might take. They might be career-limiting for you."

"Some steps. A complaint to Ofcom, perhaps?"

"I'll say no more Mr Stewart."

"And neither will I. Good day to you, gentlemen." And he was gone.

...

I saw Richard every day of course. It seemed to me that we handled the show with our usual rapport, and that you wouldn't have believed that there could be any issue between us. However, you can't always tell from inside a relationship. One day, a producer came up to Richard and I. "Have you two had an argument?" he said. "Sort yourselves out!" So, Richard had broken something, and there was no fixing it. It was only a matter of time.

The sex that we'd had, that I had admitted to Phil, was perfunctory. He had already laid out his blackmail threat when he said one day. "Bill Miller is on holiday. We can use his office. There's a lock on the door. See you there at one." And that was it. I thought, naively, one quick fuck and it'll be over. As I said to Phil, I really didn't know what else to do. I got myself ready in the ladies, put my tights and knickers in my handbag, and went to the room he'd designated. Richard was already there, impatient for my arrival. As soon as I got into the room, he was on me. He rucked my skirt up to my waist, and propped my bum up on the desk. He spread my legs and stood between them. He dropped his trousers and pants around his hips, and freed his erect cock. There was no preamble. He spat into his hand, rubbed it onto his cock, and pushed the head between my pussy lips. He said, "Lily, I've wanted to do this from the moment I set eyes on you." He thrust upward and entered me completely. He continued to grunt and thrust at me. I think he saw this as like the sex in a TV drama, which comes out of nowhere, but is designed to demonstrate the rampant libido of the male lead. His thrusts became faster and more urgent, and he climaxed very quickly. I was disgusted to find that he hadn't use a condom, and his fluids were leaking out of me. I disengaged from him - more quickly that he'd have liked - and cleaned myself up as best I could with tissues from my bag. I left the room without a word to him. It occurred to me later that I had not said a word during the whole encounter.

This sort of sex wasn't repeated, and neither was the incident in the ladies. Following his conversation with Phil and Grant, Richard was behaving nicely, and I began to believe that whatever Phil had said to him had had an effect. Then one day, after the show, we were still on the set and he said to me, out of the blue "Lily, we need to fuck."

He went on "I'd like to fuck you right here on this sofa, but I guess I can wait until later in the week, when I can get a hotel."

I asked him "Have you ever raped anyone, Richard."

"No, of course I haven't"

"But you're going to rape me."

"Don't be silly Lily. I'm not raping you."

"Well, you want to have sex with me, and I don't want to have sex with you, but we're going to have sex, whether I will or no. What's that if it's not rape?"

He didn't answer. I continued "I bet that in your time you've overruled some poor girl's objections, you've overcome her reluctance. Have you ever had to slap to some silly bitch who's said no, but meant yes?"

"I'm not discussing this any further."

"OK Richard. Book the Savoy. I've never been to the Savoy. And come prepared for a fight."

"What the hell are you talking about, Lily?"

"I'm going to fight you, Richard. Better bring some pyjama cord, or handcuffs, or cable ties. Cable ties would be best. You'll need to tie me up, or tie me down."

"What is this, Lily? Are you indulging some rape fantasy? Because if you are, well ,,,"

He didn't finish the thought. We said no more.

A day or two later he gave me a date. He said "It's the Savoy, as you wanted. I booked the night, but the afternoon and evening should be enough time for what we have in mind." That "we" annoyed the hell out of me.

I got in touch with Phil. He was sorry that his words had no effect, but he wasn't surprised. It seemed that we would have to put his plan into action.

...

I met Richard at the Savoy. He made no attempt to hide our identities, but said to the check-in clerk "Miss Sanderson and I need somewhere private to rehearse for an awards show this evening. Obviously, we require your discretion." The clerk nodded.

He gave us our room keys in a little cardboard folder which he placed on the desk. I grabbed it immediately. I took a keycard from it and placed it in the side of my bag, and gave the folder to Richard. "I hate being without a room key in a hotel." Was all the explanation I gave. Richard wanted to go straight to the room, but I said "We're at the Savoy. What do you do at the Savoy? You have tea. I bet you've had tea at the Savoy before. Well, I haven't. I'm sure you usually have to book, but I'm sure they'll find us a table."

As we walked toward the restaurant, I said to Richard, "Who did you bring here? Was she impressed? Did she let you fuck her?" He said nothing. A woman approached us, beaming all over her face. She said "Miss Sanderson, I'm such a fan. Can I have your autograph?" She presented me with the afternoon tea menu, and I signed it for her."

We took our seats in the restaurant, and ordered tea. In truth the last thing I wanted was a load of fancy cakes. As we sat, I put a hand into the side pocket of my bag. The room key was no longer there.

I made sure we took our time over tea. I could sense Richard getting fidgety, but I was determined to make the bastard wait. Eventually, we left the restaurant. There was a crowd of people around the lifts. We went up to our floor. I felt sick with trepidation. We stood outside our door and Richard patted his pockets looking for they key. Eventually he said "It's got to be here somewhere, but use your key Lily."