A beautiful prostitute named Maya visits a client whilst disguised. That client is a powerful local judge with a foot fetish, and as Maya services him, she snaps incriminating photographs with a tiny camera planted inside her corset bow. After turning over the photos to a mysterious man she calls Mentor, Maya is given an address for her next “case.” A week later she arrives at the residence of an industrial tycoon. But after he has his way with Maya, he reveals that he knows she was the one who helped bring down the recently scandalized judge, who was on the tycoon’s payroll. For this, Maya must die!
Standing under a streetlamp smoking a cigarette, a figure in a dark, floor-length trenchcoat, the collar turned up and met by a fedora pulled low over the eyes. After scanning the perimeter, the figure walked across the street to enter the city’s finest hotel. Inside the lobby the dark figure immediately spotted the contact, a stubble-headed thug likewise in a long coat.
The dark figure approached after their eyes met, and the thug whispered the words “Room 13” while reaching inside his coat. He removed an envelope and handed it to the dark figure, but not before allowing his lapel to remain open long enough to reveal the concealed gun.
The figure in the dark coat tucked the envelope inside a pocket and softly asked, “Is it secure?”
“Of course it’s secure,” grumbled the thug. “That’s what I do.”
Inside the elevator, another man with a hard expression and dressed like a secret police agent stood in for the liftman. Standing directly opposite a “no smoking” warning, the dark figure proceeded to light another cigarette as the doors shut.
Knocking in a signal pattern on the door marked “13,” the dark figure waited as an older man in formal attire opened it. “Please, step inside.”
“Judge Rangarajan,” greeted the dark figure after crossing the threshold. “It’s a pleasure–”
“Don’t use my name!” interrupted the annoyed Judge. “You don’t know who I am, got it?”
The dark figure nodded.
Crossing the room to the mini-bar, the Judge poured himself a glass of champagne. “Would you like a drink?” he asked his guest.
“No. Thank you.”
The Judge sat on the edge of the bed. “Then I suppose we should get right to it,” he announced, taking a sip. Let’s have a look.”
The dark figured parted the trenchcoat beneath the lowest button to reveal a perfect leg encased thigh-high stocking with garters that rose back into the folds of the coat.
“These are simply exquisite,” complimented the giddy Judge, extending a hand toward a foot shod in severe, ballet-toe spiked heels. “May I?”
“You bought them for the evening,” said the woman. “I don’t see why not.”
The Judge unstrapped the shoe as Maya loosed her hair from underneath the hat. When she removed the coat, she was wearing only a corset and panties underneath.
“Would you like a strip-tease, Your Honor?” But the Judge had eyes only for Maya’s feet and pulled her hungrily toward the bed.
“No. Leave it all on.”
On a table beside the bed rested a small steaming basin full of suds.
“Let’s get a better look at these beauties,” he said while swabbing between Maya’s toes with a soapy cloth. “I hope your feet aren’t too sensitive.”
Lying on her back as the Judge tended to her, Maya squirmed with pleasure, her
breasts popping out of the corset. She began massaging one of the exposed nipples en route to slowly, secretly making her way to a small bow decorating the corset between the breast cups.
As the Judge took her big toe in his mouth, Maya presses her breasts together. Each time she did, a tiny camera planted inside the bow shot photos of the married judge indulging his secret fetish.
“Ooooh, Your Honor, that feels exquisite,” Maya cooed. But she wasn’t lying merely to facilitate the surveillance. She felt the first traces of moisture spill from inside her powdered pussy lips.