Sometimes I do it all wrong. I ought to have known there was a problem when the biggest villain in the city invited me to visit his place for a meal. I knew him vaguely having done a couple of dodgy deals but I wasn't exactly a buddy of his. Mickey isn't the sort of man you say no to; there was no way I could have refused to go.
The wife and I turned up at the club he uses as his head office in good time. She seemed to think she was about to meet celebrities and had done herself up sexy and eye-catching. Her top looked like a piece of gauze, completely see-through letting everybody see how tiny her bra was, hardly covering her tits. Her skirt was a bit too tight and though it wasn't that short had a slit in the side that showed off her stocking tops. Martha was a quiet woman who left me to bring in the bread without questioning where it came from. Looking at forty years old next birthday she had kept herself in good condition but remained the archetypal housewife and mother – not a glamourpus.
Some of Mickey's goons met us at the door and we were guided to a very nice room at the back, which was set out as a dining room-cum-board room. All went well to start with the big man complimenting my wife on how nice she looked. We all sat down, that is, me and the wife, Mickey, and several of his more ugly gorillas and a couple of businessmen with whom I wasn't acquainted. Martha didn't seen worried about being the only female in the room, indeed she enjoyed the attention though in her customary shy way.
We had a nice but small meal, tastefully and expertly prepared by his personal staff. The drinks flowed freely and he had some good quality stuff. All was well and we had a good time laughing a lot. Martha went giggly and coy a couple of times when she saw men openly admiring her tits through her gauzy open woven top but she made it very clear that she was enjoying herself and smiled back in a coy way that seemed to signal that she quite fancied some of the men there.
Then I sensed a change in mood. Mickey told me the tale, one I had heard many times before from locals who had almost turned him into a folk hero, of the fate of the man who a couple of years ago had tried to cheat him.
"We got hold of the bastard and explained the error of his ways. Then we pulled down his pants!"
(At this point Mickey apologised in advance to my wife for the detail he was about to relate)
"We took down his pants and inserted up his rectum a decent length of plastic piping, you know, the sort plumbers use for the gas and water supply – half inch bore stuff. He fucking screamed a bit!"
(Mickey and his henchmen laughed very loudly)
"Then we fed a piece of barbed wire into the tube and up his arse! Guess what we did then Gerry? We pulled the fucking plastic tube out and left the barbed wire inside. We could have used razor wire but hell – it wasn't that bad a crime and I do have some compassion. Anyway – we still made him dance!"
They all went crazy laughing and knocking back their drinks. I forced a laugh but Martha was stunned and had a blank face. Actually I was scared because I knew this was leading up to something very bad for me.
Mickey threw a piece of paper at me and his face was stern.
"Remember them? A little company you did some business with a while ago. You decided to economise with the merchandise I think – cut corners - maximise profits. The quality was far from being satisfactory."
He stared at me and so did the men in suits. "Oh shit!" I thought - now it had become clear as to why I was here. Yes I had supplied a new company with some raw materials and after the third consignment had sort of, well...made adjustments to the specifications.
Mickey smiled but not nicely. "You didn't know I had an interest in the company Gerry? You didn't know how silly you were being?"
I slowly shook my head like a naughty schoolboy would. Of course I didn't fucking well know I was cheating on the local gangster! Mickey had his finger in lots of pies and probably this firm was a front – somewhere to launder his money or use as a legitimate front for the taxman and police as was the nightclub. I didn't dare waste his time and insult him by denying my indiscretion.
"Mickey – I'm so sorry – if I'd known...!" Hey, we all look for an opportunity to make a little extra, you know? This time I have made a terrible mistake – I will put it right!"
Mickey looked at me for a long time but said nothing.
"What do you think Mrs Porter? Can you think of anything your husband might offer by way of compensation? Besides of course making financial amends. What can be offered to me – and my friends – as a sign of the regret and the remorse he feels for showing such disrespect?"
Martha told him that she had no idea but only looked vaguely concerned and smiling vacantly carried on sipping from her glass. The room was silent and still as Mickey slid to a chair next to my wife waving the henchman away. His hand stretched out and stroked Martha's cheek making her hand stop suddenly holding her glass just an inch away from her lips. His hand caressed her face working it's way down to the side of her neck.
"You have no ideas whatever?"
"No," she said feebly looking at the table directly in front of her. She lifted her gaze and her eyes darted around the room meeting the stare of every man in the room. As she returned her eyes to glance sideways toward Mickey he let his hand drop further rubbing the back of his hand over her right tit. I started in my seat but dared not retaliate or complain.
Martha shook her head and repeated that she did not know what to say letting her eyes now dwell on watching Mickey's hand which now turned to let the tips of his fingers play over her nipple which was protruding erect from the thin material; she did not even attempt to protest or struggle. All the table silently watched Mickey play with Martha's tits, rubbing gently, then squeezing just the nipple rolling it in hid fingers, then moving over to torment her other breast. Every few seconds she gave a brief gentle but startled hiss as her body straightened when the man squeezed just a little too tightly. He joked that he ought to be careful not to make her sore by giving all his attention to just one tit. Martha actually smiled slightly as she agreed accepting another drink and sipping without being concerned that she was being mauled.
Every few seconds or so she would let her eyes flit around the room checking on who was still watching – they all were, but she didn't react or become upset. The fear of what Mickey might do to me was paling into the background now as I witnessed Martha's unbelievable coolness and consent to allowing the big man to tease her tits openly around that dinner table to amuse his lewd audience. Still she looked only coy and shy and mildly embarrassed giving little titters and laughs as she answered Mickey's questions designed to amuse her or make her feel self-conscious when she would giggle covering her face partially with her glass. He asked her if having her breasts played with felt nice to which she turned her head away shyly. He told her she had a marvellous figure and she thanked him but reddened when he got the other men to agree and remark on how beautiful her tits were.
