The anteroom was noisy and reeked of desperation, but Sean endured it because his political future depended on it. He'd arrived early for his nine am appointment. It was already five past. He tapped his foot like a tweaked up junkie, still hyper from his early morning meeting with fellow competitor Heather to discuss the latest scandalous photos of their car park tryst. Discuss. Yeah. The scent of her flowing arousal was still fresh beneath his nostrils and he could swear she broke skin where her nails dug into his shoulders.

He shook his head and gazed around the room. The latest in a long line of flustered secretaries sat behind a cheap desk that was groaning under the weight of various stacks of paper. Sean had seen her once before. She was cute. Intensely fuckable. He'd like to unwrap her pinned-up brunette locks, guide her to a kneel and show her what a real man tasted like between those blush lips, her hair swishing across his shaft and balls as he shoved into her throat. Watching her take everything, eyes wide and watering. Just like he'd done with Heather the other night alongside her car at The Point. Just like she'd done barely an hour earlier while he was perched against his office desk, before traipsing downtown to sit in this hellhole.

He forced a smile, made eye contact and shared a raised eyebrow with the secretary then continued his survey of the room. Along one wood-panelled wall above where she sat were a series of framed photographs, mainly the proprietor of the law firm shaking hands with dignitaries and minor celebrities. Knowing Fast Eddie as Sean did, most were probably Photoshopped, but it looked impressive to the largely dishevelled clientele that occupied the room. Down and out. Awaiting their turn. Their shot at the big money Eddie promised for defending their seemingly hopeless cases.

When all out of options, this is where the people of the city ended up. Rock bottom and in his pocket.

The phone chirped. An irritating trill probably designed to guarantee it would be answered. Cutie-pie picked up wordlessly, listened a moment then replaced the receiver. She gave the faintest flick of her head from Sean to the door leading to the adjoining office. A regular. No announcement. Priority treatment.

He rose and stepped over a kid guzzling Kool-aid at his mom's feet and pressed through to Fast Eddie's domain.

More of the same wood panelling adorned all four walls of the low-rent unit, the main difference being a liquor cabinet and a large desk at one end, behind which sat the grinning form of Eddie in an enormous leather chair. He stood and extended a hand across the desk from the cuff of his snug-fitting Zara suit. "McCarthy. Good of you to drop by."

Sean took the proffered hand of his old friend as they shook. "Hey, Eddie. How's my favourite campaign manager?"

"Busy busy. You know how it is shooting fish in this bottomless barrel." He pointed his finger and mimed cocking his thumb as trigger release, then brought the fingertip to his lips and blew across it. "You?"

"Good. Yeah, good. Well, not so good. Might have a problem with the campaign."

Eddie rotated his palms forward by his side. Sean thought for a fleeting moment his friend was going to drone, "Ayyyy" like The Fonz. Instead he said, "That's why you pay top dollar for the best." He plonked himself down in his chair. It bounced under his weight. "Shoot, Amigo."

Sean thumbed the manila envelope he'd been carrying, suddenly nervous. He steeled himself, had to trust Eddie to get him out of this, and tossed the entire thing to the desk. It landed with a thump and spun to the lip. "Was gonna show you these last night but figured you'd be… out."

Eddie grinned as he unfolded the flap and tipped. "What can I say? The ladies like a particular piece of me."

The contents spilled onto the desk. High-gloss color photos. Lots of them. Eddie rifled through them, eyebrows arching, partial concern, partial amusement. "Niiice. Yeah. Especially like this one." He flipped it round, depicting Sean leaning back against Heather's car, hand on the back of her head as she engulfed his cock wearing just her heels. "Really shows off your baby blues." He carried on, sucked in breath. "Ohhh, she takes it like that too? Dirty bitch. Loan her to me would ya?"

Sean growled. "It's not a peep show, Eddie."

"Hehehe. You didn't say that when we were boning that Estonian waitress. Or Latvian? I forget." He paused in thought. "Remember high-fiving over her back as we spit-roasted the shit out of her? Fucking animal she was. All kinds of filthy."

Sean said nothing as Eddie continued to shuffle through the shots until he reached the end, letting out a whistle. "This it?"

Sean nodded.

"Not much of a problem."

Sean's spirits lifted. "It isn't?"

"No. It's a big fucking problem. A giant, whale-dicked, fuck-sandwich of a problem. What the fuck were you thinking, you moron?"

"I don't… Jesus, I don't fucking know." Sean wasn't used to being reprimanded and added in a smaller voice, "I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't. Your dick was thinking, your head wasn't nowhere to be seen. Fuck!" He tossed the photos onto the desk. "Who took 'em?"

Sean shrugged.

"You don't know? No note? No demands?"

Sean shook his head. "Nothing."

"Makes no sense."

"Heather got a note with her set. Two sets, actually. First had some shit about needing to do the right thing to avoid the shots appearing on the news."

"Anything else?"

Sean paused. "Yeah, it was signed 'One of your biggest fans'."

Eddie nodded. "Not much to go on. Second set?"

"More of the same. Note said instructions would follow today at ten."

"As in-" Eddie checked his glinting wristwatch, "-about an hour from now?"

"Yeah. What the fuck am I gonna do? What can we do?"

"Depends. Time's tight. Who else knows?"

"Just you, me and Heather, far as I know."

"Bob?"

"Don't think so."

"Keep it that way. Make sure your stupid slut muffin knows to keep it zipped, no matter what."

"Understood. I'll text her later."

"Do it now."

Sean faltered, then obediently fished for his phone, tapped out a text to Heather and sent it. He watched Eddie idly spinning to and fro in his swivel chair, fingers steepled, deep in thought until he leaned forward.

"Possible suspects?"

Sean shrugged again. "Could be anyone. Husband or daddy of an ex who wants a fast buck. Political smear campaign from a disgruntled voter. Fucked if I know."

Eddie gave a wry smile. "A long list then."

"Yeah," Sean exhaled hard. "Loooong list."

"I might know a guy who can help narrow it down."

"You do? Great."

"External help ain't cheap, though. Specially at short notice."

Sean sighed. "How did I know you were gonna say that. What's it gonna take?"

Eddie shrugged. "One guy to find out, one to clean up, minimum."

Sean rolled his eyes. "As if my operating expenses weren't skyrocketing already." He blew out a breath. "Wait. Clean up?"

His friend delivered a lopsided grin. "Best you don't know. Plausible deniability. The guy I'm thinking of is good with a shovel."

Sean winced. "Fuck. Fine." He pursed his lips. "Whatever it takes."

o0o

Heather sat at her kitchen table, fretting over yoghurt and fruit. She'd been unable to eat before her meeting with Sean. Now her pussy and jaw ached where he'd been. Could almost still feel his tongue probing and lapping before he took her over his desk. She forced a mouthful down. Had less than an hour to try and get some fuel in her adrenaline-charged body and make it to the office to intercept the next envelope before Trish found it.

Her phone buzzed on the table, doing a little twirling dance before coming to rest. She snatched it up and read the message. Sean, of course:

Don't fucking tell anyone. Not even Bob. Fast Eddie's on it.

Typical. Her future in the hands of a slimeball lawyer with the moral compass of driftwood.

How could she keep this from Bob? He was her anchor. So understanding. Sure, they had an open relationship, but it was built on trust. Trust that they'd tell each other with whom they had sex, so they could relive the experience together, hot and hard until they collapsed, perspiring and entangled and spent. She took a sip of lukewarm coffee, pondering, mind whirling, reminiscing.

It hadn't always been that way with Bob, but she'd learned how to fuck from an early age after babysitting his kids for years. Shortly after she and Trish broke up, Bob took her under his considerably skilled wing. Pampering her, making her feel special. Showering her with gifts, telling her how beautiful she was. The kind of special she couldn't get anywhere else. And she'd loved the attention, especially from a dashing man fifteen years her senior.

Even to an outsider such as Heather it was obvious he and Lisa's marriage wasn't going to last. Bob assured her it wasn't anything to do with Heather, and she believed him. Seventeen's an impressionable age. It was only as the world grew less black and white in college that she realised she may have been the catalyst, the accelerant and the explosion that tore Bob and Lisa apart. But by then it was too late.

The kids loved Heather, so stepping in to fill the void left by Lisa was relatively easy. They were calling her mom in no time after she returned from study and moved in full time. Heather never fathomed why Lisa never got custody or fought harder for it. She had access rights, but that was it, and seemed vaguely comfortable with the sporadic nature of the arrangement. She'd take the kids sometimes at weekends, which left Heather and Bob time to get to know one another better. More intimately.

Heather sipped her coffee. Poked at her yoghurt, forcing a few spoonfuls down. It tasted bland and featureless, like her future.

She worried that Bob would go ballistic if he learned of her indiscretion with Sean from a third party. Worse if the media broke the story, especially given there was very little love lost between the two men. And Bob was helping finance her candidacy.

Was there any point standing now? She'd effectively torpedoed her chances the moment she allowed Sean to seduce her at the party. To dance, to whisk her off, to make out at The Point overlooking the waterfront, then to climb out of the car. Why oh why did she climb out of the safety of the fucking car? To be secretly photographed in all manner of compromising positions, culminating in her political rival taking her ass over the fender of her Audi. Jesus!

She shivered as she remembered the strength of his cock ploughing inside her. How much she'd wanted it at the time. To be owned by his power. His unbridled masculinity. The irony of course was that it had been Bob who had unleashed such inner desires. Awakened her. Unlocked the door to her cage and melted the key.

He'd started slow. Tenderly. Lazy weekends without the kids, making her breakfast in bed, doting on her young body. He was an attentive lover. Took his time exploring her, lips mapping every curve of her sinewy form. Fingertips tracing her skin and leaving fire in their wake. Fire that gradually spread, burning hotter and hotter until Heather couldn't bear the torment. Thought she was going to burn up, consumed by passion.

She would arch her back and moan against his insistent caresses, loving the way his teeth would gradually be introduced. Playful little nibbles at her neck and shoulders would migrate and ascend the slope of a breast, lips enclosing her erect nipple, drawing it into his warm mouth like it belonged there. Grazing his teeth against each sensitive peak in turn would make her skin ignite, until Heather was a writhing mess of want beneath him.

Only when she was out of her mind with lust would he crawl over her body and enter her, their eyes locked. She'd wrap her legs around his torso and they'd rock together, her nails trailing over his back as he hammered into her drenched channel. He'd whisper how beautiful she looked when she came, how hard he was for her, how much he wanted to shoot inside her. Each sentence, each thrust would elevate her body until she was clawing at his back, the perspiration glistening on their skin as they both climaxed hard against one another.

Over time, he'd encouraged her to take the lead. The initiative. Until she found herself whispering in Bob's ear at first, ultimately snarling how much she wanted to fuck him as passion flourished. Rolling him over, mounting his body and riding him, head tipped back as he pawed and squeezed and rolled her bouncing tits in his palms. They'd fuck and sway and bite, her cries bouncing around the bedroom. She'd shove her hand between their bucking union, seeking her proud pearl and grinding it against her body, gasping as the need to climax overcame her.

It was moments like those that came to define the majority of her twenties. The floodgates were open and she took every opportunity to expand her sexual horizons. Bob was an excellent tutor. Patient. Attentive. Encouraging her to explore. To go further each time. Role play. Spanking. Anal.

Heather drained her coffee and brewed a second cup. God knows she was going to need it later when she had to face Trish or the media. Or Bob. Fuck, what a mess. Her hands shook as she poured and a few splashes of scalding liquid hit her hand. She recoiled, but instead of the first thought being pain, she flushed, sank into the seat, head in her hands, mind racing to that time Bob first introduced her to the delights of control.

He'd turned their bedroom into a warm sanctuary. Perfectly made four-poster. Soft music playing; some jazz that wouldn't normally be on her radar but seemed soulful and right under the circumstances. Candles flickered on the dresser, reflected off the oval mirror, bathing them both in dancing chiaroscuro.

Clothes had been laid out for her on the bed. Brand new lingerie. Expensive hold-ups, heels, bra, and panties. She'd looked at him and pointed to herself. He'd just nodded, sat down in the chair facing the foot of the bed, unfurling his tie loose to drape around his neck.

"Change here," he pointed to the space between the chair and the bed.

Used to being in control, and expecting him to let her ride him in the chair wearing the lingerie, Heather strode to the centre of the room. She unbuttoned her blouse slowly, tantalisingly and let it drift off her shoulders before parachuting to pool at her feet. Turning away from him, she wiggled her hips, hands in the waistband of her skirt as that joined the blouse.

She gyrated her flawless young bottom to the music, hearing him growl. Hooked her thumbs into her knickers and drew them down her lithe legs, bending at the waist before stepping out of them and standing once more. She looked over her shoulder at him, their eyes connecting as her fingers deftly reached back to unfasten her bra. Shaking her hair out along with the garment, her dark curls tumbled over her shoulders, covering her breasts.

Heather spun, naked, nipples hidden by her hair and paced towards him, one finger outstretched. She could see his erection tenting his trousers as her fingertip sought his mouth and pressed inside. He groaned, swirling his tongue around it. She let him coat it thoroughly with saliva, then plucked it from his mouth and brought it to her moistening slit, tracing the wet digit from the base to the tip of her folds. She remembered the shiver of anticipation warming her core.

Again she turned, strutting to the bed. Placing one foot up on the mattress afforded Bob a tantalising shot of her parting lips from the rear. The hold-ups were lace. Sheer. So sexy as she drew one over her foot and pulled it up to snap at her thigh. The other followed a similar path before she picked up the knickers and bent again at the waist to put them on and glide them up to encase her smouldering pussy and trim ass. The curve of the material highlighted her firm globes, a perfect semicircle of flesh arcing beneath each side.

She donned the heels. Four inches of heaven on each foot, snugly encased in the patent leather straps. She felt like a million dollars. The bra was last. Same denier as the other clothing, barely decent, leaving just enough to the imagination.

When Heather spun to face him, he was a picture of pure lust. She strode forward, but he put his hand up and she stopped. A long moment passed between them, the jazz filling the artificial void. She ached to sink to her knees in front of him, unzip his trousers and tease his cock with long, languid strokes of her tongue. Take him between her lips, swirling her tongue around him as he grew in her mouth. Make him swell to perfect hardness before climbing on his lap and riding them both to oblivion, his hands pawing her bra-clad tits, heads tipped back as they both came.

But Bob had different ideas that night. Ideas that shaped her future. Gave her a new direction. Led inexorably to landscapes that neither of them could fulfil alone, screwing other people and reliving the acts as husband and wife in their bedroom.

Bob stood, hunger in his eyes. Grabbed her wrists and marched her backwards to the corner of the bed, pushing her against the post, his mouth finding hers. They kissed hard, need unfurling inside them both. Bob clasped both her wrists in one hand and used the other to slither his tie from his neck. He wrapped the cool material around her wrists and tied them, then pulled back to eye her.

Nodding, he lifted one end of the tie up above her head and trussed her wrists to the post. Heather's eyes widened. "What the fuck, Bob?"

"Shhhh." He stroked her cheek. "Tonight's all about your pleasure." His eyes displayed a quiet intensity. "But I'm in charge."

"What?! No. I want to-"

"Shhhh." He smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Trust me. Or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."

"But Bob, I-"

"Fine." His tone was firm. "Have it your way."

He stepped away a moment, crouched and returned carrying her panties that she'd been wearing all day. He stood right in front of her, bringing the garment to his nose and sniffing. "Mmmmm. You smell good, Heather. Good enough to eat."

With one hand he reached up to cup her jaw, squeezing. She gasped at his forcefulness and while her mouth was open, Bob stuffed the panties in.

"There," he crooned. "Now you can't interrupt."

Heather writhed against the bedpost as Bob trailed his fingertips down her cheek, over her shoulder and traced her bicep. She shivered as his path continued to the back of her hand, dusting her fingers and hopping to her midriff before walking the waistband from hip to hip.

He ran his palm over her curves up to a breast that he cupped. Heather inhaled through the panties as he tweaked her nipple and continued to run his hand up to circle her neck. He paused there, just a moment, just long enough to make her wonder, then dropped his hand to her thigh and stepped in to kiss her neck and shoulders.

She moaned as his five o'clock shadow lit up her skin. He traced a path to her ear, nibbled it, his breath hot as he whispered, "You're all mine. Every emotion under my control."

He kissed his way down over her collarbone and climbed the gradient of one breast. Taking a nipple in his lips through the flimsy material, he sucked, then swirled his tongue around it. Heather gave a muffled moan that turned to a groan as his teeth came into play. Her body writhed more as the pressure increased, biting began, and sparks flew from nipple to belly and back.

Bob released her nipple and trailed kisses to the other breast, then bit hard on that one. Her chest flushed and she twisted against the restraint, the heat coursing her body.

Reaching for her bra, Bob scooped out each breast in turn, growling at the sight of her helplessness. Heather's eyes flashed and focused on his firm cock twitching in his trousers. She had grown so accustomed to having Bob be smitten with her, bending to her whims, that to have that taken away from her and be totally at his mercy was… scary? Exhilarating? In answer, she felt a trickle of juice moisten the gusset of the lingerie.

Bob paced a few times, eyeing her, hunger evident. "What should I do with you, Heather?" he mused, then chuckled. "Good girls bend at the knee. You bent at the waist. Like a bad girl." He stepped in, trailed his fingers down her sculpted abdomen and curled them on top of her panties. His voice caught in his throat. "Bad girls deserve spanking, don't you agree?"

Heather's eyes stared, wild as she tried and failed to form a response through the panty gag. Bob brought his palm away from her knickers and swatted them. Soft enough not to hurt, hard enough to be a portent. Heather moaned through the material in her mouth. He grinned, drew back his palm, paused for effect then smacked her pussy again, slightly harder, watching her hips twist away.

Soothing the area with his fingertips and palm, Bob massaged her wetness into the fabric, tracing his finger into the juicy cleft. He trailed his finger up her body and placed it under her nose. "You smell that?" She inhaled. "That's the scent of a dirty girl aroused. I think there's more where that came from."

He delighted in her shivers as he ran his fingertip back down her cheek, neck, over a breast and flat tummy, until it rested against her clit. Heather rolled her hips forward for the touch but Bob pulled away.

"When you've had enough, lift your knee and I'll stop. Understand?"

Heather nodded, fast.

Bob drew back his palm and watched her flinch, tensing before the blow struck her pussy from the flat of his hand. She moaned loudly. Her thighs pressed together around his fingertips, legs swaying as one as she dangled from her bonds, heat and pain coursing her body.

Her knee stayed down so he drew back, waited for her legs to part then hit her again. Harder. Listening to her muffled cries, the erection in his trousers threatened to rip a hole in them.

Once again, her knee stayed down, eyes burning with lust, snapping across his body from hand to groin, and up to meet his gaze. Bob waited until she was ready, for her legs to drift apart. He removed his hand, pulling it back further, watching her eyes and the wildfire within the whole time her body twitched in anticipation. Without warning, he spanked her panty-covered pussy hard one final time. The wet splat echoed around the bedroom immediately before Heather's groan engulfed it and Bob rubbed her snatch to soothe the heat.

"Good girl," he chided. "But I fear not good enough. Not quite yet. There's still a bad streak in you."

He crossed the darkened room and picked up a candle, the flame flickering in the gloom as he brought it back and held it at eye level between them. Heather struggled against the tie, shaking her head, eyes wide. Her arms ached but her body was on fire. She'd never felt anything like it. A glow burning in her centre and spreading to every pore. Somehow, she wanted what Bob was about to do, yet didn't. She imagined the pain. Then giving way to the pleasure like the spanks had. Oh, the pleasure.

"Remember the signal?"

She drew breath, almost a sob, steeling herself and nodding, her mind a scramble of emotions.

As if in slow motion, she watched the molten wax tip from beneath the wick and splash onto her exposed breast. Pain tore through her body, a furnace erupting inside her as she shrieked into the gag and twisted left and right. Her tits felt as if they would explode but as Bob righted the candle and the pain dissipated, her pussy flooded with juices. She could feel it seeping into the fabric, a delicious release. Her clit seemed the size of a plum, throbbing with need and she ached to touch it.

Lolling her head down, she took in the spots of burgundy wax crystallized in a chaotic loop on her heaving breast. It looked so decadent, so sexy. A temporary tattoo marking her skin. She steadied herself again, looked at Bob who was regarding her knee.

It stayed down. He slowly drew his gaze upward and she implored him with her eyes to scald her again.

With deliberate slowness, he tipped molten wax onto the other breast. A few drops landed on her sensitive nipple and Heather screamed, the muted sound of anguish carving the air between them. Her body convulsed, and she thought her mind was going to eject from her head at the pain that ripped through her cortex. But when the drips ceased and the stinging flashes stopped, the intense exhilaration that followed led her pussy muscles to relax and flood more juice into her sodden underwear.

She hung her head, staring at a spot on the floor between Bob's feet. It was wet. Could have been from her pussy, but she realised she was also salivating around the gag and was drooling onto the carpet. She sucked in a breath, body numb yet alive. She was so close to coming. Wanted more but wasn't sure if she could take it. Utterly conflicted.

Heather stared at her knees, sobbed and lifted the left one a fraction, heeled foot leaving the floor. True to his word, Bob stepped away, put the candle down. But Heather was not prepared for what happened next. He sank to his knees before her, as if worshipping a panty-covered idol, took her hips in his strong arms and hoisted her up, mercifully taking her weight and wrapping her legs onto his shoulders.

Then his mouth was on her knickers. Kissing, probing, pressing the soaked material as she gripped her thighs alongside his ears, her body bucking uncontrollably against his face. Her fingers flexed in the bonds, grappling for the bedpost, arching her back to press forward into his insistent lapping.

Bob snaked his tongue to her clit and circled it, drawing the nub through the material into his warm mouth and Heather's world turned inside out. She came like she had never experienced, groaning and shrieking, body jerking and clutching at her lover's face. She froze against him, wailing, before the pulsing began, tearing through her frame like a summer hurricane, utterly lost in the sensations as her orgasm claimed her entire being.

The high stayed with her long after the immediate effects dissolved. Long after he'd untied her and carried her limp form to the bed. Removed her shoes. Tucked her into the comfort of the bed sheets, nestled against the expanse of the mattress. Stroked her hair and whispered he loved her as she drifted in and out of a deliriously happy consciousness, hours of pleasure rippling through her.

Yes, that night had been the start. The eye-opener. Heather had been a changed woman from then on, another side to her character born. While she still loved to take control and be dominant, she found the act of being submissive, of having a powerful man take advantage of her, use her, and mistreat her equally intoxicating.

That night was the epicentre. Where it had all gone so right but so terribly wrong. The untapped need unfurling over the weeks like a pirate main sail led to the open relationship that helped fulfil what neither she nor Bob could as a pair. The experimentation. The control. The lack thereof.

And then, one fateful day, Sean fucking McCarthy. Arrogant prick. The domineering, conceited, sexy bad boy prick she never truly got over from school. Calmly re-entering her seemingly stable existence again the other night. And now this. This… mess.

Looking down beyond the lip of the kitchen table, she sharply drew her hand back from where it had strayed as she reminisced. Her panties were wet. Second coffee turning cold. Time ebbing away.

Time.

Shit.

The kitchen clock read quarter to ten. Fifteen minutes to get to the office. A seventeen-minute drive without traffic, and it was the tail end of rush hour.

Grabbing her car keys and phone, she scrambled up and ran for the door, hoping beyond hope she could get there before Trish found the envelope, and Heather's political career - her whole world - spiralled to a tabloid shit storm.

----------------------

Author's notes: Dirty Tricks is a multi-chapter, multi-author, character-driven, whodunnit journey that AndreaDetroit created and decided to share writing with other authors. We hope that you enjoy this series. Thank you for reading and please provide us with feedback!

Discussion has begun with authors of the next few chapters. We are welcoming authors who wish to join us on this incredible writing adventure. If you would like to contribute to the story, please reach out to AndreaDetroit or Ping for more details. The next chapter will be posted within a few weeks.

In this series:

Dirty Tricks Chapter 1 by AndreaDetroit:

https://www.lushstories.com/stories/hardcore/dirty-tricks.aspx

Dirty Tricks Chapter 2 by Ping:

https://www.lushstories.com/stories/hardcore/dirty-tricks-1.aspx

Dirty Tricks Chapter 3 by writingvixen:

https://www.lushstories.com/stories/hardcore/dirty-tricks-chapter-3.aspx