The GFBJ Ch. 02

My thanks to MormonJack for edits and crits.

Chapter 2

Annika showed up on time, for once. She'd been notorious at work for arriving at meetings late. Fashionably late was not fashionable at Elizabeth's company. Annika stopped just inside the front door of the restaurant and looked around for Liz. She did her usual model walk between the tables toward where Liz was sitting while every male head in the crowded room swiveled around to her like dogs spotting a squirrel.

Annika was as exquisite as Elizabeth remembered her. Platinum blonde hair, totally natural, flowed to her pale shoulders exposed in a silky, sleeveless, cream-colored blouse. She had a thin figure with just enough breast, legs out of a magazine ad, feet-- for men who liked feet-- in heels whose skinny straps, through no coincidence, Liz was sure, matched her silvery tresses. And a face that made a viewer think of Ingrid Bergman or Evan Rachel Wood.

Except for her expression. Annika, when she'd worked at Elizabeth's startup, had always looked slightly displeased-- unless she was looking very displeased or downright pissed.

Elizabeth stood and gave her a friendly embrace. "Good to see you again." She genuinely was pleased to see that Annika had accepted her lunch date, though not for the reasons Annika would ever think. "How have you been?"

They sat. Annika glanced at the menu, inspected the cloth napkin wrapping the dinnerware, wrung her hands, and gave Liz a wan smile. She hung her purse, a designer bag of some kind, on the back of the chair. "Great," she managed to reply.

"The place hasn't been the same since you left."

Annika's perfect eyebrows narrowed, but Liz hadn't lied. The company really was different since Annika had been laid off-- better.

Annika had been in sales. She'd started off well, turning cold calls with hospital chain execs, clinic managers, and the like into visits where the company could present its new technology. The presentations got good reports also. But somehow she couldn't close the deal. There were always reasons-- Annika excelled in finding flaws in others-- but nonetheless the deals didn't happen. Scuttlebutt was that as well as alienating her coworkers Annika was also eventually alienating her prospective customers. She complained about them too, of course. When the economic downturn happened and the company had to freeze hiring for a while and then go through some modest layoffs to satisfy the VCs on the board, dropping Annika was a no-brainer.

"So what have you been up to?" Liz asked. Annika was studying the menu. "By the way, my treat. I've been wanting to try this place." Not quite exactly a white lie. She'd wanted this place because it was trendy, which she knew would attract Annika, and it was a particular kind of trendy, a so-called Instagram restaurant, which had to be catnip for someone like her. The interior of this one, for example, sported an elaborate-- in Liz's opinion way overdone-- floral theme in which long vines stretched across the room and along the ceiling, sprouting multicolored blossoms of all kinds, even on the same vine, over walls already overpainted with floral scenes. The flowery vines reached into alcoves meant for selfies and out to a porch dominated by a fountain made to look like a tropical pond. All artificial, of course. Not a single real flower or plant in sight.

"It's really beautiful," Annika responded, looking around. She took out her phone and snapped some photos from where they sat. While she did that Liz checked on that purse on her own phone. As she'd suspected it was designer, a Furla, new style, retailing at four figures.

The waiter arrived and announced the specials. Annika chose some kind of scampi dish, overpriced. Liz ordered a broiled fish.

"Wine?" They took the waiter's recommendation on a bottle of white. Annika was known to drink her way through company parties. Liz thought she would want a little liquid courage herself for what she planned to propose.

Liz tried again: "I'd really like to hear if you're doing okay. I know that whole layoff episode must have been a shock. Was the counseling service helpful?"

"Oh, they were terrible, the worst. They made me take these absurd tests and kept trying to push me into other directions I'm really not suited for. I told them what I wanted but nothing came of it."

The service was top of the industry, highly regarded, with a placement rate the envy of their competitors. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'll let HR know." She still wasn't lying. HR would get a good laugh from it. "So..."

"I'm doing some reassessment. Taking some time to, you know, reorient."

"Understood. You have an important decision ahead of you." She clamped down on her expression so she wouldn't show the evil smile trying to escape. "That purse is extraordinary. Whose is it?"

That got Annika talking endlessly. The wine got poured, they toasted their friendship, and Elizabeth learned far more than she wanted or needed to, more than she thought possible, about designer accessories. While Annika downed more than her share of the wine. It occurred to Liz that if Annika had applied herself to the company's medical products with half the energy that she was to her new bag she would probably still have her job. It would have been sad except that, well, it wasn't easy to feel sad for Annika.

Lunch was mediocre, as Liz had expected. The fish was dry, the dessert overcomplicated. Between the meal and dessert Annika insisted that they take some selfies together, then spent much more time taking solo selfies in various poses and locations about the place. Over a round of too sweet dessert liqueur Liz decided to steer the conversation toward the reason she'd brought her former employee here. Annika looked just sloshed enough.

"But at least you're still tight with your boyfriend. Josh? Jason? Sorry, I'm not good with names." Annika had been complaining about her sister-in-law, and a few other family members Liz pretended to keep track of.

"I dumped him. He was too needy."

"Oh, that's too bad. I hate that kind of guy. You must have been broken up about that."

"A little, yes."

"That's why the retail therapy, right?" She nodded at the Furla.

"A girl has to take care of herself."

******************************************************************************************

It didn't take much to persuade Annika to continue the afternoon at a nearby bar. Over more wine, red now as the afternoon wore on, they sat on stools at the bar and talked. "So you need some financial help."

"I guess so."

Annika had hinted, among her complaints, about family members and her former boyfriend not, as Annika put it, cooperating.

"If you need help, you know, consider me a friend."

"I... I mean..." Annika was, for a moment, speechless. Liz suspected that offers of friendship might be rare for Annika. "Thanks."

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"You agreed too quickly. I'm really talking about a very personal question. A sexual question."

The slightly pissed look appeared. "I'm not gay, if that's what you're trying to get at."

"Furthest from my mind. But I understand that a gorgeous woman like you must get offers from both sides. I'm not offended."

"You know, I really get tired of women who think because..." she looked down, then back toward a table with a group of guys who'd been there when they came in. One of them got up and walked past the bar where the women were sitting, checking Annika out on the way to the men's room. She ignored him, but checked herself out, up and down, as soon as he was behind her. "I get tired of them thinking I must have a terrific sex life."

"I'm not asking for advice."

"So you don't want to sleep with me and you don't want advice. I can't imagine why you would be interested in my sex life. Not that I have much of... well... you can ask. I won't promise to answer."

Liz took a sip of the wine. The alcohol was loosening Annika up and she was coming out of her passive-aggressive shell. Good. "I like a rich red. Nice and strong." She put down the glass. "You've met my husband, J. Remember at the party?"

"The kind of tall guy with you?"

"Exactly. He remembers you."

Annika shrugged. A man remembering her was not news.

"So here's my question. On a scale of zero to ten, ten being the best, how would you rate yourself as a fellatrix?"

"Are you trying to-- as a what?"

"A fellatrix. A woman who performs fellatio on a man, that is, gives what are commonly and counterintuitively known as blow jobs. A cocksucker, that's a more accurate description, specifically of the female kind." Liz thought the dirty talk would soften Annika up.

Annika's habitually displeased face disappeared, replaced by shock, then laughter, then, when she saw that Liz continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer, a flash of fear that flipped to anger. "You women who think-- I mean--" For a heartbeat or two Liz thought Annika might insult her and walk out. She did stand, but then she stirred her hand in the air-- "Fella whatever, I'm not that."

"You mean you don't suck cock?" The dirty talk seemed to be having an effect as strong as the alcohol. Each obscenity caused a small head jerk in the blonde.

Her mouth turned down in disgust. "Never."

Elizabeth smiled, just smiled, letting her think for a few seconds that this difficult conversation was over. When Annika took her seat again and her eyes returned to hers for the third time and settled there, after flitting all over the room, even to the guys at the table in the back, Liz said, "Perfect."

Now she had Annika's attention. "Perfect? What's perfect?"

"The situation. You need money, correct?" When Annika didn't contradict that statement she continued, "J finds you very attractive. I know he would enjoy having you give him a blow job."

"But I just told you. I don't do that. And I resent--"

"But you see. That's what makes it so perfect."

Annika shook her head in disbelief. Her hair rippled like liquid silver. Liz put her hand on the woman's arm. "You really are so gorgeous."

Annika laughed. "I see. You want me to... to... to do your boyfriend so you won't have to. I get it. No thanks."

"Wrong. I love sucking J's cock. I do it every day."

Now Annika was perplexed again.

"As a special pleasure for J, I intend to have you give him a blow job. I'll be there. I definitely want to watch. Will this be your first time to suck cock? Hard to believe with such a beautiful woman. But if so, that would be especially awesome."

"Well, once in college-- but wait a minute, I told you--"

"How much credit card debt do you have?"

"That's-- that's personal."

"Like a blow job. Keep in mind that you were once an employee in my organization. I don't know your salary exactly, that's of course confidential, but I know what the range was. And I know how much that bag cost. And the rest of your outfit. I know what neighborhood you live in. It doesn't add up."

"That's my business."

"Indeed, and I'd never want to pry. And I'm not trying to force you to do anything. I'm just offering to make a deal with you that will help you out of a jam."

"I'm not a prostitute."

Liz almost snorted at the idea. "I would never say that about you." Annika would not have been any more successful at prostitution than she'd been at medical sales. Regarding herself, however, Liz thought she could have done very well as a high-priced, high-quality call girl. "I'm not offering to pay you. It would be a loan." Annika's remaining anger changed to thoughtfulness. "With interest. In writing. All on the up and up."

"Hmmph. Well, when you put it that way. But I need to..." That circular hand motion again.

"To sweeten the deal. Personal services as a form of earned interest. J is a very attractive and charming man. Not just my opinion. And you'll find him very appreciative of your beauty."

Annika inspected the floor, or maybe her feet meandering in the same sort of figures as her hands had been. "Maybe."

"Great! How much do you owe?"

Annika thought for a few seconds. "Oh, about eighty."

"Yikes! Eighty thousand? How did you ever--" Liz clamped down on her disdain. "That complicates matters." And presented a new opportunity. An idea rose in her mind. "I'm not sure I can do that. I'd need to move some funds." Which she could do in a minute on her phone, but she wasn't going to tell Annika that.

"So you mean the deal is off?"

Yes! Her prey was becoming disappointed. "I'm trying to find a way to make it happen. Let me think." Now that Annika's expression showed fear, and genuine concern, her natural beauty showed again. If she'd had any acting skill at all she could have been a movie star. Liz wanted more than ever to get her on her knees between J's legs. There were so many ways she wanted J to use this woman. It was going to be so delicious.

"Maybe," Annika said, a little meekly, "My, my car. You know, collateral."

"You own-- what do you drive?"

"A Boxster. Silver. It's very pretty."

"How old is it?"

"Oh, I always make sure I have the latest model."

Liz didn't have to ask if Annika bought or leased. She did a quick calculation in her head. J had once toyed with getting a Boxster, but had decided instead to get its big brother, a 911. There couldn't be more than ten or fifteen thousand in the little roadster. Not enough to cover the funds. But it would add more leverage, which is what she really wanted. "I'll accept using the car as collateral."

Annika only nodded, not yet comprehending all the implications.

"And require more than one blow job."

Shock passed like a splash of icy water over the classically beautiful face of J's future fellatrix. Liz didn't need to be a mind reader. The woman had started thinking maybe, just maybe, she would accept the humiliation of doing that horrible, unmentionable act on a man, just once, to get out of trouble. But now she was realizing it would be a series of humiliations. Her pretty, well-painted lips trembled as words strained to escape them.

Annika did have full lips. The office girls had hinted that Annika had had her lips done recently. Which meant that Liz would soon be paying off the debt this woman had incurred that made her lips more pleasurable for J's cock. Extra-delicious.

Just then the guys from the back noisily exited the bar, walking right past them, each one ogling the platinum blonde. Annika instantly put on her dismissive, too-good-for-them look.

"I'll have to ask for monthlies." Seeing the woman's perplexed expression Liz continued, "You'll suck my husband's cock once a month for the lifetime."

"Lifetime? What?"

"Lifetime of the loan."

"Oh. No. No."

"Really? I was thinking maybe we had a deal. The size of your indebtedness surprised me, I'm sorry, I wasn't ready for that. It must be really tough for you. But I thought I'd found a way through."

Annika only stared, right in Liz's eyes. But she seemed to be looking through Liz and into... Liz wasn't sure. Annika's unfortunate future?

"I'll tell you what. I'll draw up a loan agreement. Very basic. If it meets your needs..."

She called the bartender over to close the tab, finished the last of her wine, and stood. Annika, more out of shock than anything else, also stood. Liz hugged her. "Don't worry. It'll all work out. You'll see."

*******************************************************************************************

"You have a very nice place, very elegant."

"Thank J. He makes all the design decisions." Liz closed the front door behind Annika and led her down the main hallway. "I don't have a head for that. Or the time." Liz thought about making an off-color joke about what her head was good for. But there would be time for that later. No advantage to spooking her target so close to completing the deal.

She led Annika through the front section of the house, the living room, dining room, past the deck with its view of downtown with the river and mountains in the distance, to the kitchen table where a pair of folders lay. "I presume you've read the email version." She tapped a folder. "If you don't have any questions I hope we can proceed and get the legal rigmarole over with."

Annika sifted through the several pages of the document. "There doesn't seem to be anything about... you know."

Liz certainly did know. She opened the folder and flipped the loose pages to a paragraph near the end. "This is the relevant section, 6.1.2. I'm being discreet. It's the personal services mentioned, that I have the sole right to prescribe." She pointed to but didn't say out loud the final phrase in that clause, of any kind, nor the following sentence enforcing her right to call the note immediately in the event on non-performance. She liked the visual connotations of that legal term: 'performance'.

"Let me point out," she added, anticipating another objection, "the next paragraph, which prohibits video and other recording methods. Your privacy is guaranteed." Liz refrained from the other implication of that paragraph: that Annika would be expected to perform services worth videoing.

"Would you-- I mean-- that is--" she seemed to give up and made a small sigh. "I could use a drink."

"After you've signed. You need to be totally sober for this."

Annika sighed, flipped through the pages one more time, gave up, and used the pen already on the table to sign the loan.

"And after we've consolidated you finances. You brought your laptop?"

She took it out of her bag. One by one they logged into each of Annika's several credit card accounts, which now totaled even a bit higher. Liz transferred the necessary funds to Annika's bank and watched as Annika paid off each of the bills.

"And..." Liz said, holding out her hand.

Annika just stared down at it.

"Your credit cards. None of this will do you any good if you just go out and fill those accounts up again."

"Wait. That's not--"

Liz pointed to section 6.2.2. "This is where you agreed to accept my guidance in helping you pay off your loan. Any competent financial advisor would tell you that you need to get out of the credit card trap."

The dread, reluctance, and near panic Annika showed as she pulled the plastic rectangles out of the Bottega Veneto wallet in that Furla purse was even more pronounced than when she'd first learned about the sex act she was required to perform. Liz collected the cards, took an envelope out of a drawer, and sealed them in it. "I'll put them in our safe and give them back to you on completion of the loan. Wonderful. Let's see now... I need a drink too. One moment." She got out her phone and sent a text. "J is in his office. Among other skills, he's an expert mixologist."

In a minute J appeared. Annika blushed, a rosy pink that filled her cheeks and spread down her neck, probably also further beneath her blouse. The coloring added a liveliness to her complexion that had to excite him. "It's very nice to meet you in person," he said, moving close to her and clearly relishing her embarrassment as well as her looks. "Liz has been talking about you. You're even more beautiful than she described."

"Th-thanks."

He looked at the documents, still open on the table to the page with their signatures. "Didn't we meet at one of the office parties?"

"I think I remember you. Yes."

"I certainly remember you. Would you like a martini? How do you like yours?"

"Vodka?" Annika said weakly.

"Grey Goose it is." He went to a side counter and began preparations.

"You have a-- a very nice-- um, house." Liz had a hunch there was something more personal about her husband that Annika found nice. The blonde had been looking him up and down, including the convexity below his belt.

"Thanks," he replied as he took the conical glasses out. There followed a discussion between them of designer barware, which led to more design discussion back and forth, and finally, as he presented three perfect martinis between them on the table, to a remark about his shirt. J usually wore dress shirts while he worked, even at home.