The Vixen Agency: Julie

Kate and Julie looked at each other, with puzzled expressions. They'd already been discussing why they were both there. The company policy was a one-to-one consultation between Provider and IC. So they already appreciated something different was happening.

"I'll give you the basic details and then you can say what you think because the consultation can't go ahead without you being onboard. I've decided two Providers are needed and you are the best two taking into account your experience, different appearances, and what's actually required."

He stood up, walking towards the bar, talking as he did so. "What do you girls want to drink? I'm having a coffee."

"That'll be fine for us as well, Boss," chirped Kate, beginning to get up. "I'll do it."

"No. You stay where you are," insisted George, as he opened up the machine, taking some cups from a shelf. "I've just bought this new machine for in here, as well as Archie's machine." He continued talking as he busied himself as an amateur barista. "Someone came to see me yesterday with an unusual request. His sister has been forced to have sex against her will, he wants retribution, and he wants us to make it happen."

"We're in, Boss," chorused Kate and Julie.

"Hold on, let me explain what the intention is, what the implications are, and the possible repercussions, may be. We'll discuss it and decide whether or not to go ahead. Okay?" Both nodded, so he continued. "She was out with some friends at a club, her drink seems to have been spiked with something to make her feel unwell enough to want some fresh air. The IC, if we go ahead, offered to assist her outside but once outside two other two men appeared. They got her into a car, took her somewhere, we don't know where for sure, and took turns with her."

He stopped to see what their reactions were and it was what he expected.

They didn't need to talk it over. "Like we said, Boss, we're in," they said, in unison.

"The client already knows something about our activities from overhearing a conversation between his mother and her friend. Her friend is a client, whose husband has consultations every week, and apparently he overheard enough to be aware of what was going on. Thankfully he also picked up everyone was pleased with the arrangement. He wants the IC to have the consultation but without the enjoyment."

He brought their coffees over and then went back for his own.

"He wants us to kidnap him, take him somewhere safe and quiet, the consultation would be a little more...intense...than usual and, of course, the IC will not be willing. Bearing in mind our client has dug up information to suggest it's not the first time the IC has done this I think we can safely assume he's not submissive."

"Well, not yet, Boss," giggled Kate.

"I've done some preliminary research and he does come from a wealthy family, which means influence, which is probably why the police weren't keen to take action. Nobody was keen to take action."

"So what's the plan, Boss?" asked Julie. George had decided she would take the lead in what was about to go down.

"We'll use the same tactic on him he uses on his victims. Get him out of the club, get rid of his friends, and take him out to The House. Then we treat it as a normal consultation. I don't think we need to do anymore than usual because, as I think we agree, he isn't submissive so a normal consultation will be more than sufficient. I don't want him marked permanently but otherwise I leave it to your discretion. Mental abuse and humiliation should go down well."

He stopped, waited until he'd got their full attention, then went very serious.

"If things go wrong you do realise we will all be in a lot of trouble. Up to our necks in a big pile of shit. Last chance to back out."

Kate stepped forward, in front of Julie. "WE...ARE...IN." She wasn't aware Julie's hand was preventing a laugh from escaping, at Kate's resolve, as she looked over her head.

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

"Hi," said the stranger to the long haired, gorgeous blonde sitting on the barstool, obviously on her own. He indicated the seat next to her. "Mind if I join you?" Before she could respond he sat down anyway.

"I'm Brad," he said, holding out his hand. "I can't remember ever seeing you in here before. First time?"

"I'm Cindy," replied Kate, using the breathy voice she had used so often to make men weak at the knees, accepting the offered handshake. "I'm new in town and thought I'd see what the nightlife was like. You a regular here?"

"The owner's a friend of my dad's. I'm often here because I get in free. Are you ready for another drink?" He waved to the bartender before waiting for her answer.

"I was just about to go," said Kate. I've had a long day and I'm pretty tired." She began to slowly slide off the stool, waiting for him to persuade her to stay.

"One more drink. Please. Maybe we can meet up again and I can show you the city. One more? Please?"

He does have an endearing smile, thought Kate and, if I didn't know about Chloe, I wouldn't realise what an arsehole he really is, and how dangerous.

"Okay. One more. But then I will have to be off."

She could see the delight in his eyes, thinking he had caught her, not realising it was the other way round.

"Are you always so friendly with every new girl in town? You're not trying to take advantage of me? Are you?" she giggled.

"Do you want me to take advantage of you?"

He signalled the bartender and leaned back, elbow on the bar, careful not to appear to be putting pressure on her.

"Maybe. If we get to know each other better."

She didn't want to make this too easy for him, but she didn't want to waste time. The drinks arrived, she finished the one she'd been nursing for the last thirty minutes, and took a sip from the fresh margarita. She looked around the club, wanting to give him the opportunity to put whatever he used on his victims in her glass, but he didn't seem to be interested.

"This is my number," he said, taking a card from his wallet. "It's my private number. Give me a call and we'll arrange when we can meet up. During the day's best. Any time to suit you."

Something's wrong, she thought. He's not made any attempt to slip anything in my drink and now seems eager for me to leave. She took another sip from her glass, suddenly realising she'd drunk about half of it while they had been talking.

"Thanks," she said, slipping it into her purse.

She began to get off the stool and suddenly felt dizzy, clutching the bar with one hand and, involuntarily, him with the other.

"What's wrong? Are you okay, Cindy?"

He helped her off the stool and she leaned against him, feeling slightly nauseous. But she was sure he hadn't put anything in her drink. She'd given him the opportunity but he'd not taken it. Then it hit her her! It was the fucking bartender! He didn't need to lace the drinks. The bartender did it for him. Bastard! But clever. He could always deny putting something in a drink because he never did. Devious scum bag! Not that it matters because he was now going to take her outside which was what she wanted.

"You need some fresh air, Cindy. Here, let me help you," he said, putting his arm around her as they went towards the carpark exit. The people parted, making way, and one of the guys by the door opened it for them.

"Thanks, guys," he said, and both guys laughed.

Fortunately, she'd only drunk enough to be affected by the initial feeling of nausea and wasn't as bad as she made it appear. Not as if it mattered, things were now going as planned.

"Who are they," she exclaimed, as the guys followed them outside.

"Just friends of mine," he laughed. "We're all going to give you a good time."

"I don't think so."

The voice came from behind them all and, as his friends began to turn, a pair of hands took hold of their heads, crashing them together. Brad released Kate, turned to see his friends crumple to the ground, and then looked up at the Amazon standing before him, arms casually hanging by her sides.

"What the fu—"

Before he could finish speaking Julie's gloved fist connected with his jaw and he began to fall. She grabbed hold of him, hoisted him onto her shoulder, and taking hold of Kate with her other arm.

"You okay? Can you make it to the car?"

"I'm fine," replied Kate. The traditional response even though it wasn't true. "Let's get on with it."

The car wasn't far away, the boot lid swung open as they approached, after Julie used the remote.

"You get in the car. I'll finish off."

She unceremoniously dumped Brad's limp body into the car boot, quickly securing him with the plastic zipties, and a strip of tape across his mouth to keep him quiet when he did wake, and then a blind and deaf gimp hood. Finished, she got in the car, looking across at Kate holding the cardboard container ready should she actually need it.

"Don't you dare laugh," Kate muttered, "I feel awful. I hope the effect is as short lived as George said it would be. Although how would he know? Probably just guessing. Let's get going before anyone finds his friends."

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

It took almost an hour to reach their destination, by which time Kate had recovered and was almost back to normal.

"Try not to bounce the car too much as we go up the drive," she told Julie, as she steered the car through the gateway which, because of its age, was only wide enough for one vehicle. "George should really have it resurfaced."

"You know why that hasn't happened as well as I do. It's to discourage unwanted visitors. That's why there isn't a name board, just the original name etched into the brickwork each side of the gateway. After nearly three hundred years that's worn and gives the impression there's nothing here of interest. Which is what George wants."

"I wonder how much he paid for it?" mused Kate, as she lowered her window. The full moon gave a captivating view of the estate as Julie carefully, for the benefit of Kate's stomach, negotiated the narrow drive.

"None of our business. You know that. You can wonder, just don't ask," said Julie, firmly.

""I know. But it's huge, and that's without the house. How —,"

"We're here," said Julie, as they approached the end of the driveway.

Chatelaine House, or just The House, as everyone in the company referred to it, was actually an eighteenth century mansion. It had belonged to an aristocratic family until they ran into financial difficulties and could no longer afford its upkeep. That's when George and his wife had purchased it as a suitable property for company in-calls.

Sometimes a client didn't want a Provider to come to their home so the consultation was here. The range of available facilities here was far more than in any home and flexible consultations were available, for up to a week, if the client could afford it. There were many who did prefer the house and were provided to pay for its speciality. One client had remarked it was like going on holiday to your favourite resort knowing you were going to enjoy it.

The light above the porch came on, and the door opened, as they came to a halt. A solitary figure stood there, a wheelchair beside her.

Kate went to get the wheelchair as Julie retrieved Brad.

"Evening, Mrs Carruthers," cried out Kate. "It's nice to see you again. I hope we aren't keeping you up too late."

"Not at all, Kate. You know I'm always here when required. Come in. You know the way."

Fully awake for a long time, Brad had laid in the darkness wondering what was going on. What was happening to him? What did they intend to do? Kill him? Maybe hold him to ransom? His family could afford it. It had been uncomfortable, particularly the last few minutes. He felt them lifting him and then sitting him in a chair. Soft underneath him, rigid at the sides. He began to lean forward, but a hand on his shoulder firmly pulled him back, and he felt a slap to the side of his head. A clear indication not to do it again. He felt the chair bump and realised he was being pushed up steps, and then felt the chair turn realising they had come inside as the cool night air changed into something warmer. It had been cold in the car and he shivered as he felt the welcoming change in temperature.

Julie pushed Brad down the main corridor, looking up at the vaulted ceiling, the broad stone stairs following the angle of the walls as they rose towards the upper floors. George had kept many of the paintings. He couldn't make up his mind whether to have the rest of the house reflect the austerity of the consultation rooms or whether to leave it. None of the rooms were locked. Not even Mrs Carruther's private quarters. Not that any Provider would dare enter without invitation and none had ever been forthcoming. Was that where she kept Mr Carruthers? Was there a Mr Carruthers? Had there ever been a Mr Carruthers? Kate had wondered, on occasion, if Mrs Carruthers ever entertained guests? She had expressed her thoughts to Julie once who had reminded her of the phrase "curiosity killed the cat" and advised her questions would be best kept to herself and remained unanswered.

"Which room will you be using, ladies? They are, of course, all prepared."

Mrs Carruthers was very pleased with the reputation she had gained over the years for her diligence in keeping the facilities in exemplary condition. The IC's had never complained and she had received compliments from all the Providers on many occasions. She would have been horrified if a Provider wasn't able to give the required service because of her negligence. Even worse if a client made a complaint to George after the IC had informed them a malfunction had spoiled their enjoyment.

Every Provider had wondered, at one time or another, if Mrs Carruthers ever checked the facilities herself and who she used as an IC. Was it Mr Carruthers? If he existed. Or perhaps she had a 'special friend' who assisted her. No one had ever got close to finding out and no one was going to ask. Which was probably just as well.

"We'll be using more than one room," replied Julie. "We'll begin with number five and then number eight."

A loud bang came from behind the door to number two followed by a loud cry of pain.

"That doesn't sound like the IC," said Julie, as Mrs Carruthers headed for the door, throwing it open and disappearing inside, to reappear a few moments later supporting the Provider.

"Aman —," cried Kate, cutting herself short until she realised Brad couldn't hear.

"What's happened, Amanda?" exclaimed Julie.

"These damn shoes. I wish we didn't have to wear these heels. I turned, the heel must have stuck on something and broke off. I landed on my shoulder and it bloody hurts." Her eyes blazed with the anger burning inside her.

Julie went to assist Mrs Carruthers and together they gently lowered Amanda onto a bench. Kate brought a nearby stool and placed it under Amanda's leg, making her cry out in pain, again.

"Sorry. I was trying to be as gentle as I could," apologised Kate, genuinely feeling sorry for someone who was not only a fellow Provider but a friend.

"Hold on, Amanda." It was Mrs Carruthers speaking. "I'll be back in a moment and, true to her word, within a minute she was back holding the first aid box.

"What are we going to do about my IC?" said Amanda. "I'd only just begun the consultation."

"Don't worry about him, dear," soothed Mrs Carruthers. "The priority right now is you, and getting you to hospital."

She turned to Julie and Kate and explained. "His wife has booked the IC in for the night. The full twelve hours and, after Amanda had finished, he was going into the cage. I could put him in the cage now but as Amanda had only just begun we could possibly end up with not only a dissatisfied IC, and the client, but detrimental word-of-mouth because we know a fair proportion of business is by recommendation. George will give a full refund, even though the IC will get his night in the cage, but that may not be enough."

"I'll take over from Amanda," said Kate, in a tone that said don't disagree with me. "Julie can handle him," she said, indicating Brad. "Julie is more intimidating than me, anyway. She'll be able to frighten the life out of him so he doesn't do it again. He's not here to be an IC, he's here for retribution for what he did, and to make sure when he leaves he'll never want to return."

Neither Amanda or Mrs Carruthers knew why Brad was there. They had assumed he was just the usual IC, here for his pleasure.

"What do you mean. retribution?" exclaimed Amanda, as she and Mrs Carruthers exchanged confused glances.

"Long story," said Julie, "but I'm sure George will explain if you ask him. This is a one-off. Or we hope it will be."

"How will you get back to town?" asked Kate, changing the topic to avoid any more questions about Brad.

"I'll contact George and arrange it," stated Mrs Carruthers, "He'll soon have it sorted."

"No need for that. I'll drive myself, it's my left ankle and I'll still be able to steer. Although I would like you to assist me with something, Mrs Carruthers."

"What's that, dear?"

"Help me get changed back into my street clothes," laughed Amanda. "I can't very well walk into a hospital dressed like this."

"I don't know," said Mrs Carruthers, dryly. "The men would probably enjoy it, and some of the women, as well."

That brought a smile from everyone, except Brad who still couldn't hear anything because of his gimp hood.

"After I've got Amanda sorted out and safely on her way, I'll be off to bed," said Mrs Carruthers. "If you need me don't hesitate to press the call button. Even if I'm asleep." Her tone was helpful but they knew what she meant was, it had better be absolutely essential, when she referred to calling her when she was in bed.

They left the two of them and walked down the corridor towards room five. Once they were in the room Julie took charge, as George knew she would. If Brad had been a normal IC, and it had been a one-to-one situation, George knew either of them would have consulted with ease, as would have any Provider. But in the circumstances, because of her height, Julie would be the more scary of the two, and the desired outcome was for him to be scared so much he would never think of molesting another woman.

"We'd better get changed because Amanda's IC has been left for some time. Although, thankfully, most IC's enjoy it," said Kate. "But, all the same, I'd better get to him as soon as I can."

They pushed Brad into the room, still wearing his gimp hood and restrained by the zip ties, and left him alone in his darkness. The minutes dragged by, not that he had any real idea of time. He didn't know whether it was still night or whether the sun had risen. The sun would have risen by the time he would be home but he wouldn't see it until then.

After they had got changed they checked each other over. Kate was wearing thigh high boots with six inch heels. A pair of leather shorts, with above a matching smooth leather bustier pushing her pert breasts upward. Leather choker and elbow length latex gloves. The wig she'd worn when picking up Brad had gone and her own smooth, blonde elfin cut was to be seen.

Julie was wearing knee length boots, laced up the front, her six inch stilettos bringing her height up to six feet seven. A shiny latex leotard, and wrist length leather gloves, completed her outfit. Brad was going to have a crick in his neck looking up at her lovely face.

"See you later," said Kate. "Have a good time, and don't be too gentle with him."

"I'll try not to be," laughed Julie, looking down at Brad. "I'll enjoy myself but I'll make sure he won't. It'll be an experience he won't want to repeat.

Brad blinked as his eyes were exposed to the light for the first time in almost two hours, and Julie ripped the tape from his mouth.