Carl Larkin inherited his late father’s fortune and business, much to his stepsister’s chagrin. Tracey accuses Carl of switching their father’s will but Carl refuses to acknowledge anything. His wife Robyn, Tracey and even his assistant Pamela have problems with Carl so they send for the fix-it person. Wynona! A tale of mind control, female domination, chastity, oral service, humiliation and, finally, redemption.
Chapter One: A Summer Garden Party
‘Who is that?’ I asked my wife.
My wife peered down the lawn at the direction of my finger and looked at the small group of garden party guests.
‘Where?’ Robyn asked.
‘By the fountain,’ I snapped. ‘The blonde girl.’
Robyn leaned forward slightly and peered at the group of younger people standing near the fountain.
‘Hardly a girl,’ Robyn said a little scornfully. ‘She’d be thirty.’
‘If you say so. However, I’m more concerned if she was invited or not!’
Robyn turned and smiled coldly at me.
‘Is that so, Carl? Are you sure you are not interested in seeing if she is a natural blonde or not! I’d say she isn’t. Care to have a wager? I say the collar and cuffs do not match!’
‘Don’t do this, Robyn,’ I said wearily. ‘I really have no time for your jealousy! This is an exclusive party and I am concerned there may be gate crashers! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will check with Pamela!’
I turned on my heel and walked across the lawn in search of my assistant, Pamela.
Several of my guests eagerly smiled and nodded when they saw me. I didn’t stop and walked immediately to Pamela who was talking into her mobile phone.
She hung up immediately she saw me.
‘Yes, Mister Larkin?’ Pamela blinked at me through the tortoise-shell frames of her glasses
‘Everything under control?’
‘Have all the guests arrived?’
‘Everyone. That is to be expected.’
As the most powerful man in the area, no one dared decline an invitation to one of my events.
‘Who is that?’ I said, nodding towards the fountain as the white coated waiters moved through the crowd with trays carrying champagne cocktails.
‘Who, Mister Larkin?’
‘The blonde woman in the white dress.’
Pamela looked towards the group.
‘Did I invite her?’
‘Your step-sister instructed me to invite her.’
‘You should not do what my step-sister requires.’
‘You have not given me that instruction, Mister Larkin,’ Pamela said evenly.
‘Keep it in mind in future. How does that woman know Tracey?’
‘Apparently, she went to university with your step-sister and is in town for a short time so…’
‘Tracey did not mention anything to me. I thought I told you before, Pamela, that you do not do anything my family asks unless you check it with me!’
‘I tried to, Mister Larkin,’ Pamela said evenly. ‘I attempted to contact you yesterday but your mobile was turned off.’
Ah, that must have been when I was fucking Sharon.
For a forty year old accountant, she knows how to fuck!
‘I was probably in a business meeting…’
‘I checked your diary, Mister Larkin. You were free…’
‘I don’t have to account for my time or movements to you, Pamela!’
‘No. Of course not. Sorry, Mister Larkin.’
I nodded and straightened my cuffs so the expensive cuff links were visible.
‘Mister Goodstein has been looking for you,’ Pamela offered.
‘Where is he?’
‘Near the orchestra. There.’
I walked across the lawn and sat next to Bernie Goodstein, my father’s oldest friend and long time lawyer.
‘Carl. Nice party, if you like this sort of thing.’
‘It’s a necessary evil, I’m afraid. Have to impress the masses. What’s the problem?’
‘I’ve heard a whisper that your wife has been talking to lawyers about finding a way to break the Pre-nuptial.’
‘Can they find a way?’
‘You should know better than that, Carl. It’s water tight.’
‘Then,’ I said with a shrug, ‘let her talk to whomever she wishes! She’ll have to pay their bills so it’s not concern to me.’
‘I thought you would say that. I have also heard that Tracey is engaging lawyers to challenge your father’s will again.’
‘Doesn’t she grow tired of these legal games?’
‘Apparently not. She’s engaged a good firm.’
‘Novak and Stiller. They’re good. Two women who have a track record in challenging wills. They’re quite unconventional.’
‘I see. Send them some work so there is a conflict of interest. They’ll drop Tracey like a hot potato.’
‘I’m not so sure…’
‘It’s worked before, Bernie. Just do it.’
I stood up and patted his shoulder.
‘Just relax, Bernie. I have everything under control.’
‘If you say so…’
‘I may not be my father, Bernie but I do have his genes.’
He nodded and turned back to watch the orchestra.
Surveying the party, I saw the mysterious Wynona Redmond standing by herself near the hedge. Taking two glasses of champagne from a passing tray, I walked purposefully towards her.
She looked up as I approached and I saw she was not at all surprised by my appearance.
There was no doubt she was very attractive with thick blonde hair that look a trifle ruffled by the breeze. Her make-up was similar to styles I saw on old photographs of the famous models of the ‘sixties.
Perhaps a retro look was back in vogue.
‘I thought you looked thirsty,’ I said, offering a champagne glass.’
‘Was I so transparent?’ Wynona said with a charming smile that made my cock stiffen.
She took the glass from me, her fingers brushing mine and sipped the champagne.
I laughed.’ I suppose it is. I just ask for the best.’
‘Ask? Or demand?’
‘I prefer to think I ask.’
‘But when you are as wealthy and as powerful as you are, a simple “ask” is, in reality, a demand.’
‘You know who I am?’
‘Ah,’ Wynona smiled, ‘there is a mistake.’
‘If you are trying to seduce me, it would have been more charming to demur, to claim you were not wealthy or powerful. Instead, you simply asked if I knew who you were. A little egotistical, don’t you think?’
Her laughing eyes inspected me over the rim of her champagne glass.
Flushing, I sipped my champagne and wondered why this young woman managed to put me off balance.
My eyes dropped to her magnificent chest. Large voluptuous breasts pushing against the neckline of the white summer dress and I wondered if I could see the hint of the outline of a nipple!
‘Apparently,’ I said meanly, ‘you went to university with my step-sister? I rather think you look a little old for that or were you a mature student?’
‘Did Tracey tell you that? That I went to university with her?’
‘No, Tracey didn’t tell me…’
‘Ah, you got that from another source?’
‘An unimpeachable one…’
‘Unimpeachable? God, who uses words like that anymore?’
I flushed again and sipped champagne.
‘No, Carl – do you mind if I call you Carl?’
I shook my head.
‘You simply must call me Wynona. No, Carl, I did not attend university with Tracey. In fact, I did not study in Britain.’
‘Oh? Where did you study…’
‘Various places. I’m afraid I attended a few in pursuit of my studies. I must say I found that experience is such a great educator.’
‘Why are you at my party?’
‘I was invited.’
‘Not by me.’
‘Did you invite everyone?’
‘No, I didn’t but…’
‘Then, let’s leave it at that, shall we? You have a beautiful house.’
‘Did you choose it or did your wife?’
Her bright blue eyes looked me innocently.
‘It was my father’s house. I inherited it.’
‘Along with everything else, I believe.’
‘I was fortunate in that regard.’
‘While your step-sister did not get anything?’
‘She must have had a falling out with my father.’
‘Is that so?’
‘I am only guessing…’
‘Tracey claims she was mentioned in the will and that someone swapped the right will with one that was obviously false.’
‘Is she still peddling that tale? Poor Tracey. I feel sorry for her.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’m sorry, Carl but you don’t appear to be a man who cares much for anyone.’
‘That’s a rather cruel assessment.’
‘Is it? Then, I immediately apologise.’
Wynona smiled at me again and I shifted a little uncomfortably.
‘What is it you do, Wynona?’
‘I fix things.’
‘Do you? What sort of things?’
‘All sorts. My services are in demand and I am rather expensive.’
‘Are you in London long?’
‘Is that a proposal?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Carl, let’s be honest with each other, eh?’
‘I am always honest,’ I said stiffly.
Wynona giggled. ‘I doubt that very much!’
‘You are a rather insulting young woman!’
‘Oh dear, have I upset you again? I apologise, of course.’
I looked around the garden and wondered if I should move on, give Wynona up as a misguided project and find another more compliant woman to approach.
‘You didn’t ferry two glasses of champers to me just for conversation, did you?’
‘I am the host…’
‘Of course, but you were driven by the desire to get into my knickers!’
I stared at her and Wynona smiled cheerfully back at me.
‘Oh, dear, you stutter? Poor you. I feel rather dismal about people afflicted with speech impediments.’
‘I am not stuttering! I am merely nonplussed by your simply outrageous claim…’
‘So,’ Wynona pouted, red plump lips gleaming, ‘you don’t want to seduce me?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ I said quietly, looking quickly around.
‘Then, oh mighty powerful and famous Carl Larkin, what do you want?’
‘You know,’ I said, looking over my shoulder.
‘Humour me. Spell it out. What do you want?’
‘You,’ I croaked.
Wynona swept her hair back and smiled broadly at me.
‘How flattering,’ she said in a tone that left no doubt she was not greatly flattered by my admission.
In fact, I gained the impression she was somewhat bored.
‘Are you just a tease?’ I said hotly.
‘I do like to tease,’ Wynona said quietly. ‘I like to tease a lot. It can be fun.’
‘I should go,’ I muttered.
‘Don’t,’ Wynona said simply. ‘Not yet.’
I looked into her eyes and then down to her breasts in the white summer dress.
‘Why?’ I croaked.
‘We haven’t made arrangements. When would you like to have some fun? Now?’
‘I…I can’t now…’
‘Oh, dear. The wife? I understand completely. I expect she doesn’t understand you or is frigid or some other tale? Poor you.’
She waggled her empty champagne glass and turned it upside down as if to demonstrate how empty it was.
‘I seem to be out of champers. There’s the boy. Summon him.’
I waved to the waiter who hurried across the lawn with a tray. The orchestra was murdering some Beatle tunes and, after a few seconds, I recognised a morbid version of Yesterday.
‘Thank you,’ Wynona said to the waiter and we sipped from our fresh glasses as the waiter moved off.
‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘I’ve stayed too long as it is…’
‘Oh, dear, have you aroused suspicions? Does your wife have spies in the shrubbery? Will they report that you spoke for far too long with me? Can you remember numbers?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you think,’ Wynona said patiently, ‘you could remember my mobile number? I don’t want to give you my card with so many spies in the ferns!’
A mischievous smile danced on her sexy lips.
‘Yes,’ I muttered, ‘I can remember…’
She recited a telephone number.
‘Now, repeat it to me.’
Dutifully I repeated the number and Wynona smiled.
‘Well done. Now, toddle off while I search the party for any young hunks with half a brain and extraordinarily lengthy cocks!
Flabbergasted, I watched her saunter away, delectable arse moving in the white summer dress.
It takes great skill, I silently acknowledged, to walk on a lawn in high heel shoes. I wonder how she does it?