Chapter Six

It had been two weeks since the trip to the farm, and despite asking the lieutenant for more time, Eldon still hadn’t been asked to return. He knew he’d had to keep quiet about it, act as if it were just part of the job.

He had a sense that Heller hadn’t been the only one evaluating him. Dr. Forster had never stopped since the first day Eldon had been hired.

So, it was with no small bit of surprise that Eldon heard his name called from the rear exam room at Forster’s practice. It was toward the end of the day, and he hadn’t even been aware Dr. Forster was still seeing a patient.

But when he opened the door, he nonetheless found himself gazing at a stunning older blonde woman, of perhaps forty. She was in a polka dot white exam smock, her bright blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Seated high up on the edge of the exam table, her pink painted toes were posed upon the steel slide-out step at the base of the table.

Nothing out of the ordinary, at first glance… until at second glance, one noticed the hem of her smock had been pushed all the way up her sleek, firm thighs, the gleaming tan of her skin dazzling, his eyes unerringly drawn to it for just the briefest of moments.

Her full breasts were clearly outlined under the threadbare fabric, her nipples poking impudently against it. The dark delta of her pubis was just hinted at between her thighs, though she kept them modestly together.

The patient looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it at first.

Dr. Forster, seated on his roll-around stool, his back to the door, his fingers whirring upon a swing out keyboard to the woman’s right, spoke as he typed.

“I’m assigning you to visit the farm once a week. Do you think you can handle that? Heller gave me a glowing report.” Forster swiveled upon his stool, peering up at him. “Do you think you can handle that?”

“I… sure, I guess. I can’t prescribe though—and some of the cases…” Eldon wasn’t sure how to say it, shrugging.

“Complicated, I know. If you need prescriptions, just text them in to my cell, and I’ll get them called in immediately. I’m up to my neck in work here, and I’m afraid I can’t make it out on my normal runs to the farm myself. I need you to be my eyes and ears out there.”

Eldon tried valiantly to keep an even keel, to not allow himself so much as a smile at the news, even as he tried to process the unexpected maelstrom of fear and anticipatory elation at learning he’d get to go back.

And if he were lucky, set eyes on her once more.

“Who’s going to be helping you at the office then?”

Forster tipped his clipboard toward the watching woman. “She is.”

“And you are?” The words leaped from Eldon’s lips before he could catch himself. He could have punched himself in the nuts for uttering such a presumptuous question.

“Sharon Forster.” She offered her slender, tanned hand, and he took it, the smoothness of her skin as striking as the confident strength of her grip. She winked at him playfully. “I’m the wifey.”

“Oh, sh—”

Eldon wiped the words from his lips just in time.

His cheeks burned as hot as the sun as both Sharon and Tom burst into laughter.

“Relax, Eldon. You didn’t know.” Forster set the clipboard down on the exam table next to her ass. “Sort of sprung that on ya. Sorry about that. Look, we’ve got you scheduled for next weekend. Same deal. Probably overnight stay again, unless they have no cases and Nathan can get you back into town the same day. Will just depend.”

Tom Forster’s keen gaze boring into him in silence, Eldon realized this was his cue to get scarce. Especially considering the patient waiting not so primly on the man’s exam table… was his beautiful wife.

“Um, okay.” Eldon opened the door.

“Please reschedule the remainder of my afternoon appointments. I have a, um, special case I need to see to here.”

Eldon was barely successful at keeping his gaze from going wide-eyed, but he said nothing as he walked into the hallway turning back toward the doorway as Forster called for him again.

“Oh, just to warn you. My brother will be here in about ten minutes. When he arrives, please send him right back.”

Eldon cleared his throat, making sure he understood. “Should I, uh, reschedule, your, um, current patient then too?”

Dr. Forster grinned. “Oh, she’s not a patient today.” Forster gently slapped one of her smooth thighs. “Not exactly, anyway. Be a good girl, and thank him for helping us.”

“Thank you, Eldon.” A shy smile curved her pink-glossed lips.

“I-it was no problem, Mrs. Forster.”

“Please call me Sharon.” She grinned then, her smile only amplifying her allure.

“Should I tell, ah, your brother to wait then?” Eldon cocked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Not at all,” Forster said, with a snap of latex as he pulled a glove on one hand. “Send him in as soon as he gets here.”

Sharon’s tanned cheeks just hinted at a blush, but she licked her lower lip, her eyes dilated and blazing.

Holy shit.

“That should do it, I think.” Forster tilted his head toward the door. “Thanks, Eldon.”

The entrance door to the practice opened just as Eldon made it out to the front lobby. A tall, rangy man with a deep five o’clock shadow and a plain white t-shirt stretched over his wide, muscular shoulders strode in. He had a blazer slung over one shoulder, his eyes hidden behind mirrored aviator lenses.

“You must be the new guy,” the man’s deep voice rang out. “Blaine Forster.”

Damn — it’s him.

He’d seen the man’s name come up plenty of times in the background they’d gathered on the Trust, but he never in a million years anticipated meeting the guy in person. The man standing in the practice’s lobby was one of the current leaders of the entire Dominion Trust, his family going all the way back to the shadowy, mysterious founding of the organization decades earlier.

You wanna ask him for his fucking autograph, fan boy?

Blaine didn’t let him stew in thought long though, shaking Eldon’s hand so hard, he thought he might have fractured bones. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to chat. Point me in the direction of my bastard brother. Seems he has some sort of surprise in store for me today.”

* * *

It was already well past closing time, and Eldon had checked the locked front door more than once. The lobby was clean, the magazines stacked neatly upon the dark varnished table of the sitting area. The computer was shut down, the answering service activated.

And still they had yet to emerge from the exam room.

As he’d logged out of the medical practice’s CRM, he thought he’d heard something from the direction of the exam rooms. It had sounded vaguely feminine, and might have carried a note of… distress.

Of course, such a thing wasn’t unusual for an OB practice, but this situation was the very quintessence of unusual.

He couldn’t help but wonder — for the hundredth time — if he should go back to the room to see if something was wrong.

Stay cool.

Being nosy, or worse, overly nervous, was not the best way to avoid arousing suspicion. He had a job to do here. And that meant keeping it together at times like this.

Finally, the door to the exam room opened, and Eldon tried to look busy restacking the magazines for a fifth time as the two men sauntered into the lobby.

Blaine slung a jacket over one shoulder as he slipped his aviators back on, his white T-shirt displaying a wrinkle or two Eldon hadn’t noticed when the man had arrived.

Dr. Forster had changed into well-pressed dark slacks and a purple button-down shirt, his own blazer folded across one arm.

Sharon was nowhere to be found.

Blaine’s thumb whirred over the screen on his cell, and he turned away at the muted sound of the call connecting.

Dr. Forster walked over to Eldon, checking his watch. “Got the place all buttoned up? Blaine and I have a few errands to run, and might catch dinner afterward. I assume you’re okay to close up for me?”

Forster was already moving toward the exit, his key inserted in the lock, before Eldon could reply.

“Yes… I can, ah, take care of it.” Eldon looked over his shoulder toward the exam rooms, then met Forster’s gaze.

His boss seemed to ignore the obvious question though. “See you tomorrow, Eldon.” Then he clapped his brother on the back. “Let’s go.”

Blaine, his cell still pressed to one ear, tipped two fingers toward Eldon as he followed Dr. Forster out the door.

He stood there, stunned for a moment, trying to decide what he was supposed to do. Sharon was… obviously still back there. Was he supposed to wait for her? Maybe it really was time to go check on things back there after all.

Then his phone buzzed at his hip, and he pulled it from his pocket.

It was a text from Dr. Forster:

“Jesus Christ,” Eldon whispered, not quite believing what he’d just read. What did it really mean though?

It was typical Dr. Forster; cryptic seemed to be the man’s middle name.

Taking a deep breath, surprised at the level of tension that had crept its way into his limbs, he walked down the hall, pausing to listen at the door a moment, then knocking.

A faint sound could be heard beyond, but he couldn’t make out any words.

He entered… then froze at the sight before him.

Oh fuck.

Sharon was curled up on her side on the exam table, facing away from the door. One arm was folded under her head, and though she still wore the same polka dot white smock, it had been rucked up to just below her breasts. A crisp, white sheet was draped over her legs, but left everything between her ribcage and her upper thighs exposed.

Her lush, round ass and trim thighs were well-reddened, and marked with numerous, swollen weals from what looked to be a cane. A glistening trail of sticky fluid meandered down from the cleft of her ass, dripping along the alluring curve of one buttock. The humid inner thighs were slick with more wetness, the distinctive tang of semen and feminine arousal strong on the air.

She appeared to be slumbering.

“Sharon?” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice to little more than a murmur, not wanting to frighten her. “Mrs. Forster? Are… you okay?”

What do you think, Eldon? She just had her brains fucked out.

When he helped her turn over to face him, he found that she’d been gagged with a bright colored cloth — perhaps a bandanna — her eyes swollen and red, as if she’d been crying.

But her smile was bright, and warm, and almost... feline, as he pulled the sodden cloth gag from between her teeth. Her blonde hair was a wild and tangled mess, the neat ponytail but a memory now.

Sharon winced as she sat up. “You wouldn’t by chance have anything for these?” Her voice was thicker, huskier than it had been when he’d first met her. She leaned over on one hip, pointing at her ass. “Kinda stings.”

But there was anything but anguish in her eyes. There was almost an eagerness there that had him flustered.

“I…uh, yeah. Witch hazel might help.” He swallowed hard, trying to keep an even keel. “Is the skin broken?”

She pursed her lips. “Not sure. Guess you’d better check.”

Keep it together, asshole.

“Why don’t you lay down then, on your belly. I think I know where to find the witch hazel. Just... relax, okay?”

“Okay,” she murmured against her arm as she laid back across the exam table with a tight sigh.

Plucking the wipes from the cabinet above the sink, he washed his hands.

As he applied the treatment, she moaned now and then, to his accompanying apologies.

“No, it’s okay,” she whispered, pushing her naked bottom up slightly as he painted the most inflamed of the weals with the witch hazel. “It feels… good.”

Something was off though; this procedure should have stung. Quite a bit, in fact. And yet, the woman appeared to be… enjoying it.

He stopped when she canted her hips still more, her back hollowing further.

She looked back at him through the wild fringe of messy blonde locks, her voice a trembling whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I just… I think that’s enough.”

“Do you have… anything else that might make it feel better?” Her tanned, well-wealed thighs eased apart ever so slightly, revealing a hint of the dark slot of her sex, the scent of her arousal unmistakable now.

Just for a moment, he was tempted, but the image of Tamara flashed in his mind, and it gave him the strength to restrain himself.

“The witch hazel should help, for now. You’ll need to apply it after each time you bathe.” He held up the plastic tub of wipes. “I’ll send this home with you.”

Rather than be disappointed that he’d declined her obvious advance, she seemed… happy, a high-wattage smile spreading across her face.

The words rang in his mind as he stood there looking at the gorgeous, half-naked woman.

I trust you’ll know what Sharon needs.

“Is there, ah, anything else I can do for you?”

He felt like a complete tool, blurting out the words, but he had no clue what else to say. He was entirely out of his depth here, addressing the wife of his boss — the man who also happened to be the target of Eldon’s entire undercover operation.

“I could use a ride home,” she said, turning over and sitting up once again. Though she kept her long, lithe legs demurely together, it didn’t keep Eldon’s keen eye from spotting once more the wetness slickening her inner thighs. “My mean husband and brother-in-law appear to have left me to my own devices.”

“I-I guess I can drive you.”

He tried to remember if there was anything in his Honda that would scream ‘cop.’ But there was nothing more incriminating in his car than a wadded-up McDonald’s bag he’d thrown into the passenger side foot well.

Thank God for small favors.

“Blaine left the Navigator here. I doubt Tom intends to bring his brother back to the office tonight — so you can drive me in that.” She smiled again, the wattage amped up, her long lashes fluttering. “If it’s not too much trouble, that is?”

“Oh, okay — how do I get back here then?”

Her lips pursed a moment, then she slipped off the table, letting the smock fall back down her legs, hiding the dark blonde vee of her pubic hair. They both knew his eyes couldn’t help but notice that either.

“Well, you could stay at our place tonight.” She bent down to retrieve her folded clothes from the chair set next to the exam table. She clutched them to her breasts as she turned to him again. “Blaine and Tom won’t be home for…”

His mouth was suddenly as dry as burlap. “I… I’d better just drive you in my car. It’s no Navigator, unfortunately, but it’ll get us—”

Sharon stepped close, grabbing his hand and dropping the keys into his palm. “No, please take the truck. It’s a little bit of drive to get out there, and it’ll save you the gas. When we get home we’ll figure out how to get you back.” She winked. “I’m the boss’ wife, aren’t I? I insist.”

* * *

Eldon thought about Forster’s words again as he drove, the city lights glaring particularly harshly for some reason.

The drive was almost an hour out, putting them a lot closer to Tacoma than Olympia, Dr. Forster’s woodland home nestled in the hills overlooking Fife, Washington. He’d had to program the address into the truck’s GPS a couple of times, unsure as he was about the layout of the countryside around Fife.

During their initial run-down of the investigation’s target, Lieutenant Bennett had made a point of noting that Forster had at least three homes — that OPD knew of — and only one of them was anywhere near his OB practice.

That was… odd. But when it came to wealthy people — and Eldon had met more than his share in his line of work — odd was standard operating procedure. He’d come to believe there was a direct correlation between a person’s material wealth and the increasing level of that person’s… eccentricities.

He knew the wealthy sure drank like fish, and more than a few of them did enough drugs to put any no-tooth tweaker to shame.

Dressed in tasteful navy slacks, a cream blouse, and heels, Sharon hadn’t said a word to him from the darkness of the back seat. But he could feel it, the weight of her gaze. She may have dubbed herself merely the “boss’ wife” but if he had to bet, he’d say there was a helluva lot more to Sharon Forster than that.

And she was watching him quite closely indeed.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask?”

The sound of her silky voice startled him, and he was grateful the dark of night likely hid that fact from her keen gaze.

“About what?”

“About what you saw back there... about what happened.”

“I mind my own business.” He gripped the wheel tighter.

“One of your many fine qualities. But aren’t you the least bit... curious?”

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, unable not to notice the way the line of the shoulder belt plunged between the swells of her breasts, her bosom moving gently at the vibration of the truck’s suspension as it passed over a bump.

“Is this part of my instructions? To provide... unusual assistance? I think that’s how Dr. Forster put it.”

She grinned. “I think so.”

Just posing such a question to her risked wading into very dangerous waters. But he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t curious. Very curious.

“Did your husband...?”

“Fuck me? Yes, quite hard, actually.”

Oh hell.

“And... what happened to you?”

“My husband left that to his brother.” She sighed, the color suffusing her cheeks visible even in the deep shadows of the back seat. She combed fingers through her hair. “Blaine does like his canes.”

“Why?”

“Oh, there was probably some reason or other — but mainly it’s because they wanted to.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“In my position, being ‘okay with it’ is irrelevant. But to answer your question... I was willing. Blaine, for all his strictness, well, he loves the female body. After beating my ass for me, he likes to... see to it in other ways.”

Jesus Christ. Don’t ask the question, Eldon!

“You mean...?”

“Yes, my husband prefers my cunt, most of the time. Which leaves Blaine his favorite part of a woman.” She shifted in her seat, a dreamy look creeping into her eyes as she gazed out the passenger window. “Going to be a little sore tomorrow though. He’s even less gentle than his brother.”

He wondered just what the fuck he’d gotten himself into as he took the last turn up the winding, hillside road that led to the house. The trees were massive, crowding the black top on both sides.

“Not exactly the, uh, main drag here.” He was relieved to be able to talk about anything else, even though the cop in him wanted to push for more details.

Your cock wants a few more juicy deets too. You prick.

“We like it that way. Not many neighbors up here, that’s for sure. Let’s one… live life on their terms.”

“At the risk of overstepping my bounds, I have to ask — what are those terms?”

She didn’t respond at first, and for a frightening moment he feared he’d truly pushed his luck too far. But that was part of what made a good undercover officer — that willingness to take risks, to push things all the way to the limit.

That was when an undercover always generated the best leads, the most actionable evidence.

“How much do you want to know, Eldon?” Her voice was almost feline now, a sly pleasure evident in the smooth, feminine tone. “You know what I always say?”

“What’s that?”

A single car squeezed past in the oncoming lane, the glare of the headlights making Eldon squint.

“Never ask a question you don’t really want to hear the answer to.”

He licked his lips, trying to fight the dryness in his mouth. “I really want to know. I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can. So, ask me. Anything — that is if you can handle what I tell you.”

Though he knew it was supremely risky, he also felt like it would be a question a true innocent might actually ask.

“Are you being hurt? I mean, is all of this — whatever it is we’re talking about here — consensual?”

“Yes, and no.”

Here we go.

“I don’t follow.” He squeezed the wheel harder, pressing the accelerator a bit more as the hillside road dramatically steepened. Glancing over his left shoulder, he could see the lights of Fife, and in the distance, eastern Tacoma spread out below them.

“My husband and I have an arrangement. A unique one, I guess.” She leaned forward, her arm extending between the front seats as she pointed, her subtle perfume a pleasing note on the air. “Just up here, on the right, is the driveway. Easy to miss.”

Just as she said, the entrance seemed to appear out of nowhere, nestled between two truly huge blue spruce trees, a mailbox in an ornate — but stoutly built — brick and wrought-iron enclosure, the only other sign that the narrow lane of blacktop led anywhere of importance.

Turning the truck into the driveway, he creeped up a still steeper grade that opened out into a small turn-around before an impressive home that seemed to be an integral part of the forest, the structure almost melding itself into the hillside, embraced all around by the trees. It was a remarkable house.

“Just park it in front. It’s fine.” She sat back in her seat, and he could’ve sworn he could feel her grin. “Now, where were we? Oh yes — our arrangement. Tom… likes control. I like to be controlled. You understand?”

“I… think so.”

“Good. Easier that way, if you do.” She sighed. “Though I’ve agreed to this arrangement — that’s the yes — what happens to me once I’ve given that consent? Well, it’s largely out of my hands. That’s the no.”

“What would you call that, Mrs. Forster? I know what most people would call that…”

“We’re not most people — and neither are you, Eldon. Our arrangement is what’s called consensual non-consent. I get to choose once… and only once. Once that choice is made though, I’m just along for the ride. And what a ride it is.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh yes you do. I know the sort of man you are.”

His heart began to jackhammer. What if she’d already sniffed him out? For all he knew, she had a pistol against his seatback at that very moment, ready to end his little adventure if he so much as said the wrong word.

She crooked an elbow over his shoulder, the warmth of her breath just a whisper against his cheek. “You think you aren’t the sort of man who understands what I mean, but I don’t think I buy it. The sort of man I mean reacted the way you did when you walked in on the freshly pounded naked woman who happens to be the spouse of your employer. You’re cool, you’re steady. You’ve seen it before.” She murmured the words directly into his ear then. “What I’m curious about is where.”

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

He needed to get out of there — and fast.

“That’s a good question. I could have you walk me to the door, and walk me inside, and ask for more of that tender loving care you displayed back there at the office. Who knows what I might ask for?” Her finger gently traced the line of his jaw. “The boss’ wife, right? I might ask to know more about the man who saw what he’s seen today, and how he’s so very calm and collected. It’s intriguing, the possibilities. So, I’ll ask you, Eldon. Should you walk me to the door? I won’t lie — I’d very much like you to. But I think we both know what’ll happen if you do.”

He swallowed — hard — and willed his voice to stay firm, to not let her see how very off balance she’d made him. He hoped she couldn’t see the size of his erection tenting the front of his jeans either. “Do you feel safe to walk to the door?”

“I do.”

He took a deep breath. “Then I guess this is where we say good night, Mrs. Forster.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, her grin clear in her words. “Drive it back. You can leave the keys at the office.” Then she popped open her door. “You’re an interesting man, Eldon. A very interesting man, indeed.”