Sensuality Ch. 04

Mr. Simon Hetherington would never dare come after me... with what I knew about the goings on at his UniSexSensuality!

* * * *

Being in charge of the whole operation at the salon, one of my responsibilities was to follow up on the 'newbies' and where possible sell our other services to them.

As Lee-Anne said, she'd 'entered him' and I glanced at the listing on the screen 'Harold Simons'... Harold? Was this a coincidence? I rewound the video record of fifteen minutes ago. There he was, middle aged, long black hair, a casual type, if the clothes he wore were any indication he had money. And there in the spa, taking the coffee from Lee-Anne, a sexy smile on his face and she primping at him expecting a tip... but something about it just didn't feel right.

At that moment he walked up to the desk. "Monica, isn't it?" I nodded. "I take it you're the boss on the floor?"

"That's right," I was trying desperately to feel at ease, but in my head there was the faintest tinkle of an alarm bell. "Mr. Simons, what can I do for you?"

He glanced around the Valued Customer area, as if to make sure no that no close acquaintances were observing him here, then whispered, "Is there some place we can go... without the surveillance?"

I'd had these 'newbies' before who wanted something special 'on the side'. We did have a room that wasn't monitored but the rule was 'No Go' unless you had your personal alarm handy. So I didn't have any problem going for a one-on-one with this Mr Simons.

I closed the door and watched him carefully. He sat down on the lounge and lay back at his ease. I couldn't figure out his expression. Was he assessing me? I waited.

"Monica, I wasn't altogether truthful with Lee-Anne. My name isn't Simons, it's Simpson, Harold Simpson."

"Oh my God! Now we're really in it, big time... wh-what!"

"I'm here unofficially Monica, and by the way, thanks for the coffee, I'll be able to verify my suspicions."

"You - you didn't drink it?"

"No, but I had a devil of a job stashing it away without your nosy little camera seeing what I did." He chuckled. "You know, your set up here would put the CIA to shame, its so good."

"Well Mr. Simons-Simpson, thank you very much for your double-edged compliment, but no thanks!" I said sarcastically, "what do you want now?"

"I've known a little about this place for awhile now. Meeting up with Mary again added a couple of pieces of evidence, but I don't think you know how big this thing is Monica..." He sighed. "Why am I telling you this? Because you're a young woman, and you, and all of those girls out there could get badly hurt. The big fish couldn't give a damn about the tiddlers."

"Wh-what should I do Harold... it's been my life for a few years now, with Simon and here. I totally forgotten what its like to just be with a decent man, with friends, even lovers on an equal footing."

"Mary gave you an 'out'. Take that, but I and a few other people would like you to lay low for a while so we can tie up a few loose ends. I think Mary wants her two friends to enjoy UniSexSensuality." He looked at me seriously. "Monica do be careful with Simon, and watch the places you go."

"You mean stay where there are people around?"

"Exactly. We have people watching out for you, the girls, Helene, Mary and the other two, but please don't make our job harder Monica."

"What about all this, the salon, facilities? Is it all down the tube?"

Harold shook his head. "No. When its cleaned up... I mean a few of your 'special services' discontinued, it could be a profitable little investment for someone to put money into." He reached into his pocket and gave me a slip of paper. "Memorise that phone number, only don't put it into your mobile, someone might check your contacts. If you need help it will be on the way in a hurry."

I scanned the paper, closed my eyes and imprinted it on my mind then handed the paper back to him. "With you and Mary, how's it going?" It was an attempt at small talk but Harold responded wholeheartedly.

"Ah, we're trying to make up ground. Seventeen years is a long time to make up, but that lady doesn't need any Arousal."

I chuckled, a mixture of feelings churning around inside me. "Harold, thank you, I do hope all turns out well."

"And for you too, but be very careful Monica. Not the slightest hint to Simon Hetherington."

* * * *

Simon Hetherington I mused. It had been good, a quick transition from in charge of the hair dressing section to in being in charge of the whole UniSexSensuality operation. Good money, a good working environment, except for the gropers and perverts like Harrison and his ilk...

I'd been ripe for picking after my one and only 'caring man' succumbed to injuries from a road accident. Simon had taken full advantage of my vulnerable damaged state. The erotic feelings he was able to arouse in me, lifting me to a screaming crescendo of need were exquisite. At the back of my mind I knew that for him it was only the joy of controlling me. Me, Monica Smith, his personal performing little slut.

Monica... and others, like poor Gertrude... and if he was able to manage it he would have Helene, Mary, Jane and Fran as his toys!

'Mr. Simon Hetherington,' I murmured to myself, I think I may soon become your nemesis'.

My thoughts drifted back to those conversations with Kevin, the lover I had lost. Nemesis and hubris! Hubris, that overweening pride, superciliousness and arrogance which meets with fatal retribution...

My education had been very basic, leaving high school as soon as I legitimately could. Kevin on the other hand was doing an Arts degree at university. He loved the classics, the stories of ancient Greece and often amused me with snippets of the antics the gods and goddesses were supposed to have gotten up to.

Kevin was the last person to display arrogance, a very gentle man. Yes, also a gentleman... what was it in life that took off the good ones? What quirk was it that allowed men like Simon Hetherington to sit, as it were, above the stage, dangling and manipulating the strings, playing with us as if we were all the marionettes designed for his pleasure?

What was that word Kevin had once used? The 'deus', ah yes the 'deus ex machina' that 'god from the machine'. The dramatic device the Greek writers used to bring about a savage twist in the outcome of their tragic plays.

'Well Monica Smith' I said to myself, 'you're no goddess, but by God, from this machine Simon has created, and with a little bit of help from your friends, you are going to change the whole plot and conclusion!'

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To be continued...