Amanda appraised the man she had come to meet as he sat at the hotel bar, unaware of her presence. He was in his mid-forties, attractive, wore a well-cut and expensive suit, but she could tell that the body underneath it was toned and powerful – which seemed to back up what he had told her on the phone, that he was ex-Special Forces. She could certainly imagine, under different circumstances, being attracted to him, but right now she needed to be careful and focus. She continued to watch the man, and the activity in the bar, for the next ten minutes. Once she was satisfied that he wasn’t being observed by anyone else, she approached him.

“Mr Janes? Hello, I’m Charlotte Burton, we spoke on the phone.” She hoped that the use of her middle name and unmarried surname, along with the brunette wig and dark glasses, would protect her identity, at least until she was sure about this guy. They shook hands, he ordered her a drink, and they moved to a table out of earshot of the other patrons.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Miss Burton. Let me reassure you once again that everything you say or do, now and in the future, will be treated in strictest confidence. Now, how can I help?”

Before she replied, Amanda took out a small device that scanned for transmissions, and waved it in his direction. Satisfied, she put it back in her bag.

“Would you turn out your pockets, please, Mr Janes? I need to check that you have no recording devices on you.” He did as she asked, placing his Blackberry, which he now switched off, on the table.

“You can also frisk me for wires if you like,” he offered, taking off his jacket. She took him up on the offer, running her hands over his chest, around his waist, and even feeling his thighs. She liked what she felt, but didn’t find any concealed electronics. His calm reaction to being searched helped to settle her nerves, and reinforced his claim of offering the confidential service she so desperately needed.

“I hope you don’t mind, I’ve been deceived before,” Amanda explained as they both returned to their seats.

“No problem, a wise precaution,” he smiled, “shall we continue?”

Amanda looked around nervously before she spoke. “I am interested in the services you offer, Mr Janes. But I need to understand how you would go about … delivery.”

“Certainly, Miss Burton,” Janes began smoothly. “Obviously, I cannot reassure you with tales of my many satisfied clients, as that would compromise their confidentiality. So, I will describe my methods, so you can see that I operate in a strictly professional manner.

“Firstly, let me reassure you that there is nothing illegal in what we do. Only consenting adults are involved and we will do nothing you have not already asked for. Secondly, you are always in control. You say exactly what you want to happen, when, where, and for how long. This is achieved by having you complete a detailed questionnaire which documents your requirements.”

“What if I don’t want to be in control?” Amanda asked, nervously sipping her drink.

“In that case, you set your limits, and we deliver a range of experiences based on those instructions. So, while you will have no idea exactly what will happen, you know it will not go further than you wish. It can be as out of control as you make it. Would you mind giving me an idea of the kind of experience you would be looking for?”

Amanda realised her hands were shaking as she put her drink down. She was nervous, but incredibly excited.

“I wish to be … dominated,” she replied, finding it difficult to articulate her needs. “My fantasies are pretty … extreme.

“That’s no problem at all,” Janes replied calmly, recognising and accepting her embarrassment, “you can indicate areas of particular interest when you complete the questionnaire.

“To execute most of the scenarios specified by clients, I have a couple of actors on retainer from the adult film industry – porn stars if you like. There are a number of reasons for this – they are professionals, and used to acting out sexual fantasies; they understand the need for confidentiality; they are clean, as they have to be tested for STDs every month – you will also need to be tested and certified, by the way; and they are, generally, physically attractive, as this is their livelihood. I also use specialists for specific work, people I have known and worked with for many years and trust completely.”

He paused, and looked at the nervous woman, in her rather obvious disguise, seated across from him.

“So, do you have any questions for me?”

The young woman could feel her heart pounding and was struggling to think straight.

“How do I get started?”

Janes smiled briefly and handed her a computer disk.

“This will install a program on your computer which will take you through the questionnaire. When you’re happy with your responses, it will send them to me in encrypted form. Have you done the kind of things you want to try with us before?”

Amanda considered lying, but suspected it would be a bad idea. She shook her head, feeling rather pathetic.

“Thank you for being honest,” Janes said, giving her an encouraging look, “I would therefore advise a ‘taster’ session – a limited scenario, maybe two or three hours only, in a neutral environment – maybe this hotel – where you try a selection of the things which really interest you. Then you can decide if this is going to work for you. What do you think?”

Amanda nodded gratefully at the suggestion. She looked down at the disk in her hand and wondered what she was letting herself in for...