The Fixer Pt. 01

For Badiha, life was about a series of moments, she could look back over her achievements and narrow it down not to hard work or perseverance, but to one or two instances of doing the right thing at the right time. This was her talent.

When she had university interviews to study biochemistry, she decided to at least try for Oxford, even though her predicted grades were below what was expected. During the interview, she noticed her interviewer had the telltale signs of being on a cocaine comedown. No other student had the insight and background to inform him that a hot shower followed by a couple of benzos (that she provided) and a nap would get him to the other side better than ever. The efficacy of her cure was confirmed when she found Oxford drastically dropping her offer for "an acute display of practical biochemistry during the interview process."

Badiha found Oxford very different to her native Tower Hamlets, full of the peppy and pompous she found herself falling back on her classic pastime of selling drugs. She knew the various pill popping partiers and Adderall pumping study addicts and managed to work both groups well enough to keep her comfortable. But once again when the moment arose, she could see it and take it.

Outside one of her usual spots she noticed a girl who stood out hard, nervously approaching her. At first she wondered if this was another police sting, but when the girl got closer, she saw the designer clothes, expensive hairstyle and sparkling jewelry. It was clear this was not someone in need of money enough to work for the cops.

"I'm sorry, I'm new to this but... do you... you know..." she awkwardly spluttered.

"Sell drugs? Why yes, I do sell drugs." Badiha boisterously replied, enjoying the squirming of her potential customer.

"Oh, OK. So... I'd like some ecstasy please."

"No problem, how much?"

"Um... I don't know." The girl was so out of her depth that Badiha knew she could take her for all that she was worth, but her intuition told her this could be a defining moment so she decided to take a different tact.

"Alright, I understand. What's your name?"

"It's Olivia."

"OK Olivia. I'm guessing this is a first for you so let's guide you through it. Are you buying for a party?"

"Yeah."

"Good, and I'm guessing you're all trying pills for the first time."

"There's a couple of girls who say they use all the time..."

"If they were telling the truth they would have had someone's phone number, you wouldn't be talking to me on the street. I'll tell you what, take me with you. I'll keep you supplied throughout the night, make sure everyone is safely enjoying their first time, consider me the sparkle of your party."

Olivia was initially hesitant to agree to such an offer, but Badiha was friendly and accommodating enough and soon she found herself the centrepiece of the Oxford Women's Horse Riding Society's most successful party in a long time.

...

Badiha looked back fondly at the night, it was literally the night that brought her off the streets. Connections were everything, and for the wealthy and well connected women of the Oxford Horse Riding Society, a non-threatening female dealer was the cornerstone of their social calendars. Soon Badiha found herself being brought along on holidays, meeting the high and mighty, even getting to attend a small party in the houses of parliament. Each time her network would expand so that even after she finished university, she had no doubt where her money was going to be coming from.

Badiha had stuck predominantly to female clients as she had no desire to deal with the testosterone and ego that swirled around male drug users. What initially began as self-preservation became a unique brand as she moved on to dropping off cocaine at the various white collar offices that her university friends began to build their careers in. Olivia moved on to being an accountant who organised a lot of Badiha's 'consultancy fees' so she could join her friends in purchasing the component parts of the high life beyond suspicion.

Badiha had received a strange call from an up-and-coming political operator called Monique, who'd landed herself a sweet position within the Conservative Party but Badiha knew her as the instigator of the naked shrooms incident during the Horse Riding Society's trip to the New Forest. She wanted to meet in person at a quiet restaurant and didn't need Badiha to bring any product with her.

"So I need your help with something." Monique splurged the moment the opening pleasantries were out of the way. "Do you know how to get ahold of prostitutes?" Badiha didn't, she had gotten a reputation as a problem solver during various parties and holidays, but those had all been the tradecraft of knowing when and how to avoid trouble. But she sensed this was not an insurmountable problem so she decided to roll with the moment.

"Yeah I know some people. Why do you want one?"

"It's not for me." Monique quickly explained. "One of the MPs is causing us some problems. She's a sexual harassment scandal waiting to happen and we figured if we could just get her laid it would give us time to prep damage control."

"Alright, so you don't just want a prostitute, you need a discrete man to chat her up."

"I know this isn't your usual, but I don't know how to..."

"Don't worry. I'll look into it."

...

Badiha finished her glass of wine in the house of commons bar and watched as her plan came to fruition. She had asked one of her suppliers if they knew any regular customers who engaged in sex work. She found a man that looked presentable despite his rampant coke habit, and managed to pay him off and threaten him in equal measure until she was sure he would do the job and keep his mouth shut.

He walked out the door with Monique's problem MP and Badiha took a sneaky photo, to prove to Monique the job was done, and because it doesn't hurt to have that sort of information on a sitting MP. When Monique asked how much Badiha wanted for her services, Badiha decided the best price would simply be owing her a favour. Soon Badiha found herself a new role within high society, not only as a drug dealer, but as a discrete fixer that a well-to-do woman could trust.

...

Badiha was on a party boat floating in Poole harbour on the south coast of Britain. An incredibly wealthy and elderly couple were having an anniversary party at their mansion by the coast. Some friends of Badiha, aware that these sorts of parties fizzled quickly, decided an after-party on the high seas would be more fun than going home.

Badiha had made some arrangements to spice up the party, a drug selection catered to the people she knew would be there and some spares for any surprise guests. Similarly sex workers were also on standby and some rooms in the boat had been set aside for private messy fun. Everything else had been organised by a party organiser to be the decadent rave they were used to throwing.

The first wave of guests arriving at the jetty included Badiha's old friend Olivia, who had bridged the gap between Badiha and the group.

"I can't believe what you can pull off these days, how much do I owe you?" She asked as a lineup of scantily clad men started offering round trays full of drinks and narcotics.

"Don't worry about it, I'll put it down as owing me a favour." Badiha shrugged.

"Come on Badiha, you need to learn to charge for your services."

"You come from a world where this doesn't matter, but to me favours are the far more valuable thing to collect. The tax man can't investigate them, the police can't confiscate them, they cannot be scammed away or lost to a volatile market. You guys have a whole variety of safety nets and I have just the one, and I built it myself from favours."

"What do you mean 'you guys', you've been around us long enough, you're one of us now."

"My role in your group is to not be one of you. I started with dirty hands, and I continue to get my hands dirty, then one day when I need it, the gloves can come off." Olivia nervously shuffled at how intense the conversation had gotten. "Still let's not worry about that, I'd recommend some mandy to get you started, ket to take the edge off, then when you run out of energy have some NOS and watch the kaleidoscope inside your eyeballs."

"Ah the festival combo, good shout." Olivia agreed, going off to join the party as Badiha checked everyone was on board and cast off for the privacy of open waters.

A few hours in, one of the sex workers nervously approached Badiha as she networked, he had to drag her away as 'as issue had arisen.'

Badiha was shown towards the bar at the stern of the ship, where there was some nervous laughter flowing through the halls. When she arrived she saw what had caused the commotion, a small blonde woman was standing at the bar naked, recklessly throwing back shots of tequila. Badiha looked her up and down, recognising her as the daughter of the couple whose anniversary party was the warm up for this event.

"Hey there, it's Grace isn't it?" Badiha calmly approached the girl. "I don't think drinking that much that quickly is a good idea. You'll vomit and crash hard, I got some things that will take the edge off if you'd like."

"I'm not drinking it because I want to. I'm doing it because Carla over there ordered me to." She explained throwing back another shot and pointing to a woman contemptuously laughing at the situation. "I decided that since I'm such a fuckup, I'm not going to say no to anyone's orders tonight."

"I'm guessing someone else ordered you to remove your clothes."

"And throw them overboard. I am this party's bitch!" She chanted to nervous cheers.

"Fine, if that's the way you're operating. I order you to sit and have a casual drink with me." Badiha stated, grabbing Grace a strong energy drink to get her through this. "So why did you agree to this, is someone blackmailing you?"

"Nope, I'm just sick of constantly having to be assertive because my dad made a million bajillion pounds by yelling at underlings. All it means is everyone hates me and my career's a dead end. So this party is out at sea, no phone signal, I'm going to see what it's like to be the lowest of underlings." Bidiha sensed this was another moment she could utilise. She stared the girl in the eyes, partially to keep her attention and partially to ignore the degrading nudity the heiress was indulging.

"Do you know who I am?"

"You're the female fixer, everyone's heard of you. You make things happen."

"OK, so how about I make this happen for you? Doing these things spontaneously is always going to be disappointing. These people weren't prepared, they don't know what to do with you. You get the odd order here and there but it's not going to be the adventure you want, hell I'm fairly certain Carla just wanted you unconscious. So how about this; you go back to one of the rooms and I'll have the largest, roughest man tie you up and fuck you silly. Then when you come to, you'll have my number in your phone, and you can give me a call to plan something far more comprehensive for you." Badiha planned, mostly as a way to keep Grace from derailing the party but not ignoring the possibility of having another wealthy well connected woman owe her a favour.

"You'd do that for me?" Grace sobbed.

"Absolutely, let me plan something, then you'll owe me a favour OK?"

...

Badiha had to remind herself over and over again how wealthy and influential Grace's family were. She was used to purchasing sex workers and looking the other way but what Grace had called for was something else, something darker. Badiha had diligently done her research, she'd looked online and talked to prostitutes to put together a humiliation fantasy for Grace. She'd even dressed herself in an appropriate sexy latex outfit with supervillain makeup and high heels so she would be in keeping with the aesthetic as she oversaw the debauchery.

As she waited outside an abandoned warehouse she had been lent by someone she had helped out of a jam before, a van drove up to where she was standing. A man in a ski mask got out of the van and opened the back panel door where a woman had been tied up with a bag over her head. She was hoisted around out of the van, then the bag was ripped off and she was face to face with Badiha. Grace's face quickly went from fear to understanding to arousal, Badiha had secretly cleared her calendar and had not told her today was the day when her operatives jumped her in the parking garage of her home.

"The safe word is backgammon." She whispered into Grace's ear, backing away and giving her a grin. "Right, take her away." She ordered as two more men in ski masks appeared behind her.

Badiha stood in the corner and watched as the three male sex workers she had hired got to work fulfilling the brief she had given them. They began by standing Grace in the middle of the wide open warehouse and getting out some scissors to cut off her clothes, each time throwing the rags of former riches into a nearby fire in an old oil drum. Grace squealed and squirmed against her bonds as the men teased her and laughed at her predicament.

"Alright blondy, say goodbye to your former life. From now on you'll be selling your body for us. How does that sound?" One of the men announced with his hand firmly wrapped around Grace's neck.

"Hey boss, shouldn't we make sure the goods are solid before the clients get a turn? Posh bitch like this we need to know she can take a cock." The other replied.

"Good idea." He maliciously replied, slowly but relentlessly moving his hand down to her pussy. They had a gag planned for if she resisted, but Grace had spent the whole fantasy smiling like a loon, when the prostitute's hand made contact with her pussy her moans immediately echoed around the warehouse. "Looks like someone's a secret slut. How about it princess, are you looking forward to being our whore?"

"Oh yes." Grace enthusiastically replied. The man immediately gave her a heavy swat on her exposed bottom.

"You refer to me as 'sir', do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Grace replied, her smile never fading. She was not doing a good job of playing along with the kidnapping and rape fantasy but she didn't care.

"Very good, whore." The man chuckled, forcing Grace onto her knees and then undoing his trousers to liberate his hard cock right in front of her face. With her hands tied behind her back all Grace could do was nuzzle and kiss the cock before the man grabbed her head. "I want to hear you gag on my cock or I'm going to be very upset."

Badiha was surprised at how eagerly Grace was enjoying the fantasy as she began to blow the male prostitute. She figured it must be because Grace knew it couldn't actually be real. Grace barely knew Badiha, but if it turned out she couldn't be trusted and was legitimately trying to sell Grace into sex slavery, it wouldn't be long before her parents offered her kidnappers ten times her projected lifetime earnings to extract her from the situation. The gift of connections was that the fantasy was as dark and lasted as long as they chose. Even when a second male prostitute grew tired of mocking Grace's humiliating gagging and moved her onto a dirty mattress so he could take his place behind her to begin a complete debasement, at the end of the day Grace was still in control.

Badiha allowed her mind to wander about how she would handle such a situation, in her younger years she doubted the police would even bother to look for a missing drug dealer, she would be in Grace's position in earnest, being spitroasted by two men while a third told her to look forward to a lifetime of sexual slavery. Grace has no idea how hard Badiha had worked to have the safety net she was now relishing falling into, as she dwelt on this Badiha felt rage flash through her that pushes her forward.

"This country club girl clearly knows her way around a cock." She announced, moving one of her hired men out of the way. "Let's see that posh tongue deal with a poor Paki pussy."

Before she knew what was happening, Badiha had uncomfortably pushed the crotch on her latex outfit to one side and freed her vagina for Grace to begin enthusiastically lapping at while her pussy continued its relentless punishment and her recent partner in tonsil tickling began to lubricate himself ready to punish her anus.

"Yeah, get in there deep." Badiha moaned, pulling grace hard enough against her that she was practically suffocating. "You're going to be selling your rich bitch body for my payday for years to come, so you need to remember the juices of the woman who now owns your body." The prostitutes that Badiha had hired were a bit worried by their boss's sudden loss of composure, but the laughter and slurping coming from Grace calmed their fears somewhat. When Badiha heard a squeal of pain from Grace as a cock forced its way into her anus, she snapped out of her fury and backed away, leaving the men to take over.

She wanted to calm down, she wanted to be in control as the situation demanded, but Badiha couldn't concentrate. In the next room was the next stage of Grace's humiliation, a crate with lots of straps built into it so she could be transported across town like cargo, ready to be manhandled for a bit before being released.

Badiha leant against the box, she listened in to the sounds of violation coming from next door and, with a hand clamped over her mouth, she masturbated to finish herself off, hoping an orgasm would clear her head and keep her focused. Sexual lapses in judgement were for the Graces of the world, she couldn't afford them. Badiha climaxed as she heard Grace arrive at her screaming conclusion.

"Alright boys, you think we'll get a good price for her?" Badiha nonchalantly asked as she sauntered back into the room. Grace was a pile of quivering sticky joy as she was hoisted to her feet.

"Probably, but she's a rich cock holster, won't her family come looking for her?'' The man replied, keeping to Badiha's script.

"Good point, let's ship her abroad, make sure she's far from safety while we sell her ass." Badiha suggested, stepping to one side as her hired men moved Grace into the room to be strapped to the crate. She trusted the men to carry out her instructions so decided to leave early to get to the cargo ship to get ready for Grace's arrival.

Badiha's mind was swirling as she drove to the next location, she had completely lost her cool when faced with Grace's sexual decadence. Part of her wanted to bring Grace down to earth, maybe really sell her into sexual slavery and wait to savour the moment her face turns from that stupid grin to horrific realisation. Part of her wanted to be Grace, able to detach from the knowledge of what some people really go through long enough to find briefly living the lives of the downtrodden to be a fun holiday. In general she was a mixture of angry and horny, so she reached into her glove compartment and popped a Benzo just to calm her down and keep her emotions at bay as she made sure Grace's depraved fantasies at no point actually put her in any real danger.

...

Badiha was rigid as she returned home. Grace was unloaded from her crate to universal mistreatment and smiled her way through the whole experience. She was spanked and slapped and paraded around the crew of the ship, all intent on making her feel like her wellbeing was only there to be discarded in favour of their sexual ferver. But in the end she got to go home, actually she got to shower herself off, change, give Badiha a big hug while thanking her profusely, then go home.

Badiha knew people, she knew with a couple of phone calls she could have had Grace handcuffed to a bed and be collecting 20% on what some very nasty people would charge for her. She even wondered if she could have gotten away with it, if Grace turned her fortune against Badiha's connections after the inevitable kidnapping and rescue came to light. In the end she decided it wasn't fruitful to dwell on these sorts of things and went to bed.