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“Why not? Am I special?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. You seem to have a lot of the qualities he’s looking for.”
“And those are?”
“Miles Bryce wants the perfect submissive. He’s had a lot of women, but few match up to his demands.”
“And you think I will?”
“That’s up to you,” Hector answered carefully. He would never speak for Miles, especially regarding his women.
“So, what was his last woman like?”
Hector looked at her for a moment, wondering if he should even be having this conversation. She was a charming diversion. And since Miles was gone, and he had no idea when he’d return, he had to pass the time some way. Fucking her had crossed his mind, but he never would. Not without Miles’ okay. He couldn’t risk pissing the boss off and losing the job. Miles paid too well for him to be that foolish.
Tessa Cotille had a perfect body for a good screw, matchless curves, and a swell to her hips that made him want to grasp them in his hands and rove about their smoothness. He’d heard her nipples were pierced—a sight he couldn’t wait to see.
He’d have her naked before Miles returned—certainly that wouldn’t upset him. In fact, Miles would probably enjoy the picture of his submissive being photographed.
“The last woman he screwed for the camera?” Hector remembered aloud. “Meg.”
“Meg.” Tessa repeated the name to herself. “What was she like?”
Hector laughed. “A prudish bitch—although she looked a little like you. Miles likes blondes. This one had the perfect shape, enormous tits, not better than yours, just bigger, and full lips. She probably shot them up with collagen.”
“Were her breasts real?”
“Yeah, they were real, real big.” Obviously the object of Hector’s admiration.
“What else? You said she was a prude?”
“First class bitch. She liked looking good, but she was as cold as a whore when the money’s run out.” He chuckled to himself.
“What happened to her?”
“I took about an hour’s worth of video, and Miles suddenly looks at me, and shrugs. He was whipping her with a mild thong, and she was oooooing and ahhhhing—to a point. Then she’d scream bloody murder, whenever he tried to make it hurt. Damn what a bitch! She wasn’t submissive; she was like a Greek warrior, coming from the Trojan horse, ready to cut his throat. When she left, Miles was practically rolling on the floor, laughing like a hyena.”
“A Greek, coming from the Trojan horse? Miles so vulnerable that he’d succumb to a woman like that? I can’t imagine him laughing like a hyena.”
“He hardly succumbed to her… But hey, I’m sure I’ve said too much. Take off your top.”
The sudden demand came as a shock.
“I said, take it off, bitch,” he repeated when she didn’t respond.
She was sorry she hadn’t complied right away, she really wanted to please him, almost as much as she wanted to please Miles. Reaching for the bottom of her black t-shirt, she pulled it over her head, at the same time pretending she was an erotic dancer doing special favors on command.
With the shirt off, her gold studs winked at him—which only shamed the man for being so familiar with Miles’ slut. He thought she was different than the others—except perhaps for Penny. That broad would would have been perfect, excerpt she bolted in the middle of a damn good scene. This Tessa just might pass Miles’ thousand tests, and Hector hoped she would. She would make them both a good bit of cash with the movies, not to mention the way she likely screw his cock. Hector was glad, he wasn’t as picky with his love life as Miles—he could never be so patient.
Behind the video camera, Hector focused on the gold studs as Tessa showed off her voluptuous torso like a professional. She was a natural in front of a lens, not at all shy, and not as reluctant as her earlier conversation with Miles might have indicated. Perhaps she just had to get used to the idea. After several minutes of good footage, Hector was ready for more. “Remove your skirt,” he ordered.
Tessa stood up, looked straight into the camera, and tugged at her mini-skirt, pushing it from her hips until it dropped to the floor at her feet and she was naked from the waist down.
“Beautiful.” The camera whirred again while Tessa played the exotic dancer, moving her hips in a quite tango and forming a seductive pout with her lips. “That’s it… let me see your rear…” The camera rolled as he watched through the viewer and his crotch began to tingle. Tessa looked over her shoulder, pouty, like the Playboy model’s layout and Hector’s dick turned stiff inside his jeans.
He liked the stripes on her butt; though he almost winced himself, knowing what it took to put them there. He wasn’t fond of whips, and could never wield one thing the way Miles did. That aspect of his friend fascinated him. In fact, it was why he liked to work with Miles, recording the masterful way the man tamed this compliant kind of woman into an obedient slave. He watched Miles challenge a woman like Tessa, who was at the edge of compliance and defiance at the same time. The dominant man feasted on that kind of confrontation, he and his submissive like two beasts facing off in the wild. It took a very special kind of women to be his lover.
Hector sensed that Tessa was that kind of woman, little jewel that she was. She’d be in pain, wrenching pain before the night was over, and loving it.
