The Fixer Pt. 04

"How about you get 50% of the fee from the business she drums up tonight, but 30% after that."

"Deal, I'll meet you on the 23rd at the Charter Hill Cafe."

"No way, nowhere independent where the owner could be in your pocket. We'll pick a different Starbucks each month." Badiha countered.

"Fine. Hopefully I can do things to Clementine that are more distasteful than the American dishwater they serve there." John dryly quipped as he shook Badiha's hand. "One last thing. I noticed your body type seems to match one of the naked waitresses from earlier tonight."

"Your point?" Badiha sniffed.

"If you fuck me on this deal, or Clementine gets away from you, you'll be taking her place, am I clear?" John threatened before his face immediately turned back to the pleasant smile he plastered on for parties. "You want to go check in on our working girl?"

As Badiha and John rejoined the party, the various waitresses had all moved to one side so the guests could focus on Clementine. The MP that Monique worked for had snuck away, worried that she might get a similar treatment, and Badiha made a mental note to inform her that Clementine's unmasking and poor treatment was planned so she didn't feel Badiha's offer was a trap.

Clementine was squatting in the middle of the group, her body covered in red marks and phone numbers, she had one bottle of champagne upended over her mouth, the frothy mess overflowing down her body. A second bottle of champagne had been stood upright on the floor so Clementine could be forced to squat until the neck of the bottle penetrated her pussy. The jeers and mocking laughter of people she had crossed now saturating the air.

"Everyone having fun?" John asked to the cheers of the crowd. "Alright then, now everyone who wants to fuck her has written their number on her, so this need not descend into an uncouth orgy, we'll all have our shot in private."

The crowd cheered as John pulled Clementine up by her hair, backing up against the wall so her audience were now all standing in front of her rather than the encirclement she had previously had. John relished taking control of the situation, not to mention the extra income he would get selling Clementine's body rather than giving it away for free at the party.

"But for now I think you should apologise." John announced.

"I'm sorry." Clementine immediately responded to the audience.

"And why are you sorry?" John prompted. Clementine stopped for a moment to think.

"For... blackmailing and betraying you in order to..." John interrupted Clementine with a flurry of slaps on her body, before grabbing her hair and holding her to face the audience again.

"Why are you sorry?"

"For interfering with..." once again John interrupted with a volley of slaps, this time focussing on making her tits painfully jiggle for the crowd.

"Seems like you're having difficulties, let me help you out." John announced. He whispered something in her ear and Clementine's face contorted to a look of sheer humiliation.

"So why are you sorry?" John once again asked. Clementine looked pleadingly at him but saw his sadistic resolve that she continue.

"I'm sorry for acting like I belong among you. I am a sub-human whore who should only feel honoured to have you notice me long enough to be disgusted by me." Clementine recited, her body numb with humiliation. The party laughed at the total destruction of their foes standing.

"There we go." John cheered. "Now I don't know about you guys but I feel disgusted having this dirty animal wandering my party. Henry, Charlie, grab some rope, we're going to tie this bitch to the front gate." A couple of men jumped at John's instruction as he dragged Clementine to the door by her hair.

Badiha watched on with a mixture of concern and pride. It wasn't an ideal situation, but at the moment her plan was working.

"You can untie her at midnight." John informed Badiha as he and his entourage strolled out into the night and towards the street.

...

After Clementine had been tied to the front gate and abandoned to her exposure, the party fizzled fast. There were now additional suspicions aimed at all the remaining waitresses which added an edge not conducive to the light-hearted fun that had come before. Gradually the guests all began to leave, naturally building in a bit of time to torment Clementine when they were on their way out of the door.

By the time the clock struck midnight, the party had cleared out and Badiha went and untied Clementine, she was silent as they walked back to the house.

"So before I update you on the plan, how are you feeling?" Badiha asked, fetching Clementine her clothes and a cup of coffee, both of which sat to one side undisturbed as she processed her evening.

"I always wondered what it would be like to be in one of your adventures. I'm sure I would have found it exhilarating if we just left it at me being a naked waitress for the night without the escalation, huge stakes and horrific plans. Everything with John was a bit over the top, although I think I could have handled it better if it hadn't been my first jaunt with humiliation." She explained, trying to reconcile her horniness and fear into words.

"Well I'm afraid you will have more time to get used to it. John thinks I've turned against you, people who live in that kind of world are blind to anything other than the constant struggle between self-interested actors. So I don't think he will suspect that given the opportunity I would restore you to your former position and won't be on his guard. So yes, you will be selling your body for a bit, but it's going to buy you the time you need. Not having to plan how to stay ahead of people who want to destroy you now means you have time to plan your return, and I will provide you with the resources John now thinks you lack." Badiha explained.

"So this was everything going to plan?" Clementine asked.

"I thought he would just rip the PVC mask rather than picking the lock, but I expected most of what happened. I'm sorry this is what was required." Badiha continued to explain. Clementine grabbed the coffee and drained it in one gulp.

"That's alright. I have done worse to stay out of danger. You never know, I might find a way to enjoy my temporary new career."

"That's the spirit." Grace announced from the corner, earning herself a glare from Clementine. Although Badiha vouched for Grace and insisted she was part of the planning, Clementine seemed to take out on Grace her annoyance of Badiha's sense of trust, widening circles of knowledge she felt was unnecessary.

...

While she sorted out a place for Clementine to live, Badiha had once again found herself sharing her home with someone who had no place to go. Sharing space with Clementine while she was going through this process was a strange prospect, Clementine had taken her brief of becoming a sexual deviant to heart and was agressively yet dispassionately training herself. Badiha would wake up to Clementine naked and looming above her with a breakfast in bed.

"Just getting used to being submissive." She would state before returning to clean up the kitchen. It was like living with a method actor starring in a movie made by a pervert.

After some time Grace came over so they could get to work checking the emails for new clients while also doing routine maintenance on the couple of slow burn clients they still had running in the background. Henrietta had more than reached her goal of earning money as an influencer but still found herself checking in for new confidence boosting tasks, while other girls in long term arrangements needed groundwork laid for schemes Badiha and Grace had concocted.

The emails now required another level of analysis, it was about figuring out which contact would be most useful in helping Clementine rather than the usual affair of just picking which fantasy had the cleanest exit for the biggest payoff. Clementine sat with them to help, but chose to begin every thought she had with "I'm just a stupid bitch but..." Badiha was relieved when she got dressed and announced that she was off to fuck her first of many paying clients.

Once Clementine was gone, Badiha sighed and closed her laptop.

"What we need is a bit more specific than we can get just waiting for someone to email us. We need to go on the offensive." She sighed. "How would one go about seeking out a deviant who would want our services?"

...

Badiha sat as much in the corner as Starbuck's backless stools and circular tables would allow, opting to wear some big sunglasses to put John more at ease as he sat down with a coffee he had no plans to drink. It was surreal having a member of parliament give her a big hug as a cover to pat her down and whirr around a device that was looking for bugs. Once satisfied John sat down and Badiha slid a cheque across the table. John quietly slid it into his pocket, after checking the amount married with his intel on how many people Clementine had slept with.

Badiha was filled with a new sense of caution after hearing Clementine's stories of her time with John. Unlike her other clients John never had sex with her. His penis stayed firmly in his pants, any time she asked for him to fuck her, he would laugh, call her a dumb whore and think up of a new punishment. It soon became clear John's vice was not lust, it was wrath. He felt no joy at the idea of having sex with anyone but his wife, but regular sessions to punish and humiliate his fallen foe gave him an unsettling amount of joy.

"So, any new clients I should be aware of?" John calmly asked.

"Civil servant in the department of transport, going to sway the government to build a new rail route through low yeild farmland I own and will be well compensated for." Badiha replied, giving John insight into a scheme that was not happening, but Clementine knew which buttons to press to make it look like it was. After all it was imperative John did not find out about their newest client, Nym.

"I forgot how much the nickel and diming of fixers always filled me with disgust and boredom." John yawned, he felt it was important that Badiha knew she was far beneath him on the pecking order. "Don't worry, that isn't stepping on my toes, you go right ahead."

"Thanks, so when do you want Clementine again?"

"I'm having a weekend away with some friends and I was hoping Clementine could provide the entertainment, we'll be in Earlsmere Cottage in the New Forest, Clementine will know where that is. Have her there on the 15th and 16th to entertain my friends, then the 17th and 18th just for me. We'll meet back here on the 24th." John outlined.

"We're meant to rotate the Starbucks." Badiha asserted. John took a long swig of his coffee and only barely kept it down.

"What does it matter, everything is the same, the hard seats, the horrible coffee, I swear I was served by the same teenage dirtbag that every Starbucks seems to have. So if you're going to insist I'm in proximity to this swill, I'm going to need it on my terms. This one is the one closest to my house and it will be where we are meeting from now on, alright?" John insisted.

"You're acting like you have all the power, I can still release the information about your daughter and cause a scandal." Badiha countered.

"Firstly, you're not releasing your only leverage over something as petty as our choice of café. Secondly, you made a huge mistake letting everyone I work with know about that sexual business with my daughter. I am prepared for its release, the only person you would be hurting is her." John explained.

"You wouldn't be that callous to your own daughter." Badiha gasped.

"I'd rather have her be right there with Clementine selling her body to sadists than risk all I've built for some degraded whore." John stated, his level tone very clearly showing this was not a bluff.

"Wow, poor thing." Badiha sadly acknowledged for a moment. "Well, sucks to be her I guess. See you on the 24th."

...

Nym was a receptionist at a small bio-testing laboratory near Heathrow Airport. They had gotten a whole bunch of funding when COVID made mass testing necessary, but still made some money on the side with a variety of other tests such as DNA testing for genetic disorders, parentage, and criminal investigations.

Most of their contracts came in through smooth business liaisons visiting big offices and then coming back with the date and amount of deliveries the lab techs would be processing, but the owner was an old fashioned man who still believed in having a front of house for clients to come in off the street and speak to a receptionist. Nym had seen four potential customers since she started work over a year ago and only one who followed through on asking for a DNA test on his daughter which only came back positive for him being a paranoid, untrusting asshole just because his kid was uglier than he wanted.

To keep herself busy, Nym had established herself as a general dogsbody to the lab techs that frequented the laboratory her tiny vestigial reception office seemed to have been bolted onto. She fetched coffees, took lab coats to the cleaners, ordered takeaways, light filing and admin work, basically all the helpful things someone could do without specialist scientific training. In-between these requests she spent all her time on her phone, either playing innocent games or consuming huge amounts of far less innocent porn.

One service Nym provided, the kind she especially looked forward to, was the unofficial office tradition of 'nooners.' Ever since the COVID money started rolling in, the lab was able to pay for a bunch of automation technology. So these days the lab techs jobs would be flurries of activity setting up tests followed by hours waiting for machinery to go through the labourious processing routines. So the lead tech came up with the idea that if they coordinated their setup routines, they could all start their automated processes at the same time, then go to a nearby pub (or on one occasion a bowling alley.)

Nym had managed to get herself a key place in this scheme, she was the one who stayed behind to forward on calls, pretend people were still in the office, and generally cover for the team. She explained away her eagerness by charging the lab techs a fee for her 'nooner cover' and pleading poverty. But the truth was that there was nothing she enjoyed more than having the whole building to herself during the day.

It was never the same experience twice when Nym was left alone at the office, but the first step was always to strip off all of her clothes. Sometimes she would be content with simply doing her job naked, going through the motions while living her naturist fantasies of what life would be like if she could be naked all the time. However, if the nooner had plenty of notice and Nym had time to prepare, she often liked to traverse the boundary between naturist and exhibitionist. Instead of simply existing naked, she would plan elaborate scenarios where her clothes would be beyond her reach, or the risk of discovery would be turned up to eleven. That was indeed the plan for today's nooner.

Nym hadn't dwelt too much on how perfect the circumstances were this time round, the lead tech had given her a whole week's notice on the nooner, and had even arranged for go-karting followed by a pub that would last until after the end of office hours on a Friday afternoon, so Nym was also to close down everything and lock up when she was done. She had essentially been given all the time in the world to plan for an exhibitionist adventure that could pretty much last as long as she wanted, and for Nym the planning was just as arousing as the adventure itself. The week was lost to a blur of dark machinations, deep research, and near constant masturbation, until she found herself waving goodbye to her work colleagues as they departed for a go-karting track.

Nym started by untying and retying her shoulder length black hair, her ponytails weren't always the neatest and with the amount of time she was going to spend around moving machinery she needed to make sure it wouldn't get trapped in anything. She then headed towards the employee lockers, on the way glancing at the centrifuge currently whirring away in the background, in about half an hour it would be central to her plan.

Nym was the lowest on the pecking order, and at 5ft 5 she was also the shortest employee, which made everyone comfortable with giving her a floor level locker that she had to bend down to reach. She didn't mind as it meant that once all her clothes were in her arms, she deliberately bent at the hip to place them in her locker, giving an imaginary audience a clear view of her exposure. She locked the locker and took the key, placing it on the side for later.

The next part of the plan involved some items Nym had brought from home, left securely in her handbag back at reception. She entered the room that was to be her post and gazed out onto the street. It was a quiet industrial estate so there was nobody by the glass fronted door to see her in the midst of a sexual frenzy of putting plans into action. Her hard nipples poking straight out from her B-cup breasts, her pussy already glistening from the moisture it was producing, visible from beyond the small thatch of pubic hair that had escaped the clippers after her shower that morning.

Nym rummaged through her bag and found what she was looking for, a collar with a length of chain that attached to handcuffs. At first she used to use this device to cuff her hands in front of her body just to restrict movement, but she had then found if she turned the collar around and ran the chain down her back and between her legs, she could essentially cuff her hands tight against her pussy, with the added benefit of choking herself a little every time she squirmed. She attached the collar and one hand so her other would be free to finish setting up.

Nym's magic wand was a smaller size than the average model, but was no less powerful, and pertinent to her situation had a wrist strap, so she ran the wrist strap over her free hand and let it dangle while she returned to the centrifuge, checking the timer and seeing that there was only a minute left, squealing with anticipation about what was coming.

Nym had decided that once she had cuffed herself together, and with her clothes locked in her locker, she needed somewhere to put the keys. Somewhere they could tease her while being slightly out of reach. Before he left, her boss had set up the centrifuge, which required a stop during the process so two samples could be removed before putting it back on again for another hour for the remaining samples. Nym had been asked to do this and had decided that when the two samples were removed, they would be replaced by test tubes with the keys to her locker and her bonds.

Once set up to run, the only way to stop the centrifuge was with the emergency stop button, but that didn't simply turn it off, it jammed a safety bar into the gears to immediately stop it from spinning. At the speed the centrifuge was going this would definitely break it. So if Nym needed an emergency exit, the cost was having to explain to her boss how she ended up breaking a very expensive piece of equipment and ruining the tests it was currently conducting, most likely an explanation she would have to repeat to the ire of their clients. This would probably mean she would not be allowed to cover nooners ever again, if she somehow kept her job.

The centrifuge whirled to a stop and with her one free hand, magic wand dangling from it, Nym managed to remove the two samples she had been instructed to and replace them with the test tubes containing the keys to her freedom. She placed them in the centrifuge and set it on its one hour cycle. She then turned on the magic wand, feeling its vibrations running up the handle, before lowering her hand and clicking the last part of her puzzle into place.