Earlier that day, having been sent to his office with some documents for his attention, he waves me to a seat. "Sit down, Elizabeth. I just wanted a brief chat. Bear with me, I won't be but a moment."Quickly, he scans the documents, then signing one, he passes the file back to me. "Thanks. Give those back to Mack, and tell him I'd like to see the two-year forecasts as well."I make a quick note of this. Mack, Micale Kane, manager of the procurement section, is my immediate supervisor for the moment, while I spend a couple of weeks in procurement. As part of my internship program with the company, I learn what each department does, how it works, and where it fits in the scheme of things.I don't care for the man. His smile always seems fake to me, and while he hasn't tried to make a move on me, there is something about him that always makes me want to wash my hands after I've been talking to him.Of course, I have said none of this to Richard. I am the new kid on the block, and
Later that evening, I am sure he does have a raging hard-on. While I can't see it, I can feel it pressing against my thighs as he leans into me."What do you want, Elizabeth? This won't go any further until you ask me for it."I hear a buzz, then feel a sharp pain in one nipple, then the other, as he clamps vibes to my small, firm buttons. This is too much, and I struggle against the chains, trying to escape the electric arousal spiking through me. My pussy gushes and I moan, trying to thrash both against and into the sensation."What do you want, Elizabeth? Tell me. You have to tell me.""I want... I want...""Yes?" "Oh, God! I want you inside me. Please. I want you inside me.""That's better. And then?"I am half-crazy with lust. I can barely think straight. "I want you to fuck me. Please, just fuck me.""That's good, Elizabeth. And how do you want to be fucked?"I am not sure how to answer and hesitate, my panting growing ragged."How do you want to be fuck
My Master withdraws, leaving me shaking and shuddering, hips jerking and bucking against my ties. My pussy is hot, drenched, engorged, and I am desperate to have him inside me.He removes the gag. "Anything to say, Elizabeth?" he asks. "Any requests yet? You know you have to ask first."My mouth is dry from the gag, and my jaw is aching from being held open, so I have trouble speaking. "Inside me. Please, Master, inside me.""That's better, Elizabeth. You are learning nicely. I'll take your training a little further after today."I barely have time to wonder what he means by this when he slips something inside me. Sliding easily against my slick pussy lips, he inserts something, which for a moment, simply sits inside me. Then it also starts to vibrate to a pulsing rhythm. An egg?I convulse again, but still, I am pinned. "Calm down, Elizabeth. We've barely started." He probes with a finger inside me, pushing the vibe in deeper, pressing it in as far as it will go. "Now, El
I know of Courtney's. It is well-known as a hangout for celebrities, from rock stars to politicians, actors to newspaper tycoons—public faces who value a bit of privacy from time to time. It also has a reputation for being stupendously expensive.My Master leaves me, like a kid in a candy store, investigating the wardrobe, working my way through beautiful fabrics, expensive designer labels and gorgeous fuck me dresses.All the clothes are beautiful, stylish, and well-chosen, with a good mix of themes and styles, but as I work my way through them, it dawns on me what the common themes are. Firstly, they are all just my size—how does he do that? And secondly, every one of them, in some way, is easy access. The lovely garments might be demure on the surface, but every one of them has some form of flap, wrap, slit, lace, or button that would allow an experienced hand an easy way in.I pick out a cocktail dress with a tightly fitted bodice, but a loose, flaring skirt. The filmy fabric
In my dingy apartment, my good mood evaporates into a feeling of let-down. Why? I've had a wonderful evening, have been wined and dined, had sex that left me wanting to scrape the top of my head off the ceiling. Why do I suddenly feel blue? The food, so delicious, sits heavily inside me.In my bed, I admit to myself that I'm lonely for him. I would like to be curled up in his bed with his arms around me as I drift off to sleep.But that is not the deal we have. This is not a relationship. I am not his girlfriend or even a fuck buddy. I am an employee, simply one with some very good terms written into the agreement we made. I will have all the good things in life, including the training and education I need, to one day be rich and independent in my own right. For that, I service my Master, billionaire Richard Haswell.I cannot complain. It is the chance of a lifetime. Nonetheless, I wish for more.I cannot sleep, finding myself thinking of my Master, of his face as he commands m
Grabbing the bottle, I slide it inside myself. My aching cunt welcomes it, taking it in as I first test for fit, and then plunge it deep inside, fucking myself hard, again and again. The bottle is slippery with oil and slick with my juices, but I ram it home, over and over. At some level, I am conscious that the headboard is clattering against the wall, but I don't care.Now my orgasm builds, the tension mounting, blood pounding in my ears, my body arched rigidly, my thighs shuddering and trembling in my search for climax.With an unquenchable heat, my orgasm takes me. My pussy sends pulsating spasms through my body. My thighs and stomach throb and clench in a rhythm that takes me completely, and I cry out, still working the bottle inside myself, making the ecstasy last as long as I can, drawing out the moment when my Master will leave me.Pumping away at myself, I hold onto the crescendo as long as I can, before it becomes unbearable, and with a gasp, I whip the bottle out of my
"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. This wasn't your fault. When you brought me that file of inconsistencies that you said you didn't understand, you were quite correct. Those inconsistencies were not your misunderstanding of the procurement system. As I read through, and then when I investigated more deeply, it was quickly clear that what appeared to you to be the case, in fact, was the case. Someone was, in effect, having the same goods and services charged for twice, and sometimes more than twice. It would have been discovered at some point with a physical inventory count, but that could have been months away, and in the meantime, you have saved the company a great deal of money."Francis comes in with the coffee, deposits the tray, and leaves again. Richard pours two coffees, and I sip at mine, a bit lost for words.He leans forward and takes my hand. "Elizabeth, I can't tell you how grateful I am for your quick wits and your eye for detail. A lot of people would have, if they had spotted t
"So, you missed me, and you fucked yourself instead?""Yes, I did.""Yes, what?" He presses my hand against his growing erection."Yes, Master. I fucked myself thinking about you.""And?""I wanted you there, inside me. But you weren't there, so instead, I lay naked on my bed and got myself off.""How? What did you do, Elizabeth? Tell me, in detail. I want to know."I am unused to this and am not quite sure what to say, so I hesitate. "Elizabeth, I have given you an instruction. I want you to tell me, detail by detail, how you fucked yourself.""I spread my legs and I played with my clit." As I say this, my Master's cock jumps under my hand. I feel it straining for escape. As well as I can through his clothes, I work him with my fingers. Ross's voice comes over the car intercom, "Sorry, Mr Haswell, we're stuck in a traffic jam. Might take a bit longer to get there."I see my Master take a breath for voice control. He succeeds, and sounding very casual, replies,
He's making me wait?Building the anticipation?Of course he is…Movement…The click of a footstep or two. The swish and rustle of fabric…"Master?""Be quiet, Elizabeth." But his words are slightly muffled. As though he is speaking through something in his mouth.Then…Once more, sensation…Glorious, unbearable sensation.But not now in beads and teardrops. Instead, it brushes over the nipple, flickering over the already stiff nub. The skin of the breast gooses, a prickling that spreads over my belly, rides up my spine into my hair, and lances through to my throbbing core.My flesh shivers and flows. Arousal boils the blood over my breasts and neck. And a frigid kiss trickles over my breast bone then down. One rib. Two. Another… Then another.Ice…It's ice…"I already told you, Elizabeth. Breathe."Gulping, I suck in air, then lie still save for my panting.Fingers brush to my lips, then insert, pushing between my teeth, then widening my jaws. "If you forget to breathe again, I'll wed
Pain…Unreasonably, Pussy thrums and clenches.Pain and pleasure…His blue-grey gaze smoky and intense, my Master caresses me with his eyes, the pupils wide and dark as I fit the earrings. "They suit you very well," he says. Taking me by the shoulders, he steers me around. "See?" He aims a finger toward a mirror. My reflection faces me, naked save for my Master's gifts, glinting green, bronze and amber, matching the dance and play of the lamps over my hair, almost black in the blue-green light.The projected images of the glass gems, jade and turquoise, dance over my skin: my arms, my breasts and belly, the smooth mound of my waxed pubis. With the flicker of the candlelight, the spots shift and shiver, smoothing to rounds over my chest and thighs, stretching to ovals over my waist and breasts.The linen of his shirt skimming my spine and shoulders, my Master regards the reflection with me. An arm looping around, he strokes me, fingertips grazing skin. A touch to the lips and the cheek
Dinner with Will and Grace is a pleasant change of pace."So…" Will props himself, chin on fist, elbow on table, "Irene was responsible for the whole mess?""Pretty much," says my Master. "Of course, it required Pensby's collusion to pull it off, but yes, she was the instigator.""What about the other officer?" asks Grace. "The one who turned up at your office and interviewed you.""So far as we can tell, it was a case of just following orders. Pensby gave him the instruction and he followed the routine he'd previously used at Immigration.""Just following orders?" Grace hisses the words. "There's something badly amiss with the system if people can be treated in that way at the whim of some official. Not even an elected official.""Even the unelected officials are often empowered by the elected officials, this being a case in point. I'm quite sure Jack, and hence, Barclay, only intended to improve the City finances and had no idea of what they'd unwittingly let loose. Nonetheless…""I
"Why did you start with Richard and his wife here?" demands Vandervoort.Pensby leans away from the looming Mayor. "I was in receipt of credible information he should be investigated.""S'that so?" Vandervoort cocks a brow. "And the source of that information?"Pensby's throat bobs. "I'm not at liberty to say." His eyes flick toward Irene but she looks away.And Vandervoort follows the movement. He speaks quietly. "Yes, that's what I thought. When my wife here suddenly became more interested in City finances than courting the press, I should have smelled a rat at the time."Eyes narrowing on his wife, "You had me going, my dear. I genuinely believed you'd come up with an idea that would benefit us all. Instead, I find you simply indulged in petty spite in retaliation for some imagined slight and found a target for your machinations.""Imagined!" snaps Irene. "The way that pair treated me…"Pensby blusters. "I'm not at fault. I did nothing. I was only trying to help. It was a favour for
"I'm not a celebrity," burbles Pensby, panic flashing.Claudia flashes brows. Grins. "You will be by the time City News has published this. I can just see the headline…" She raises hands, sweeping an invisible banner through the air, somehow enunciating a capital letter with each word. Mayor's Wife. Affair With City Hall Official. But that'll be small fry compared with the sub-heading… Criminal Conspiracy Against Prominent Citizens." Her grin goes Cheshire Cat-ward. "It could even go national."He starts to reply, but Irene rants over him. "If you publish my private business, I will sue your paper, and you personally, for every..."Claudia clicks her tongue. Wrinkles her nose. "So sue. Or try. When the truth about this comes out, I don't think you'll have the funds to keep a gerbil, let alone pay lawyers or fund Lover-Boy here. Besides…" She eye-points me. "… whether not I publish depends on my friend here. What do you say, Beth?"Irene stills. Pales. Then hisses, "I demand you delete
The table I booked nestles in one of the booths, secluded and to the rear of the dining area. As we take our seats, the waiter scoops up the Reserved label. A matching Reserved sign sits on the table in the next booth, equally secluded, back to back with our own. Claudia and I sit together, facing away from that booth.The waiter looms. "Something to drink while you wait for your party?""Claudia?""Whatever you're getting.""A bottle of Sauvignon Blanc," I say.The waiter sniffs. "Very good, Madam."I nudge Claudia. "I ordered the right table, did I? This one behind us is where they sat?""Yup. So long as they come to the same table, they'll be right behind us." Glancing across toward the waiters, she fiddles with her phone, then twists, trailing a fine cable between us, then behind, winding it into one of the plants twining into the screen. "Camera and microphone," she says, flashing brows. "My phone as it is would probably catch what they're saying, but this is better.""Waiter's c
I exchange glances with my Master. His voice remains bland. "You have our attention." "I followed him for a couple of days. Trailed him from City Hall to his home. He lives in an apartment just off the city centre. Alone so far as I could see. But I shadowed him in the evenings too." Claudia fishes in her bag, producing her mobile. "I've not printed any of this yet. Don't want to risk anyone stumbling across anything inappropriate."She opens up on a short video clip. Pensby, exiting an apartment block, straightening his tie as he walks. The pudding-basin haircut is slicked back. The cheap suit is ill-fitting and badly chosen.Claudia sniffs. "Doesn't cut much of a figure, does he?" Her eyes sparkle, perhaps with humour. Or maybe with malice.I lean in close. "No. He's not exactly every maiden's dream. Sometimes there's a reason guys are single " I also sniff. "Although, in this case, I'll admit. I'm biased."My Master presses a forefinger to his lips. "So, what do we learn from this,
"Who suggested it to Barclay?" I say. "Where did he get it from?"Pondering, my Master slices off a sliver of cheese, chewing slowly. "So far as I'm aware, direct from Vandervoort, but I didn't think to ask. I will."Claudia shakes her head. "Gotta say, it's been an education. Whatever happened here, it's a scandal. All aside from your involvement in this, my friends, the fact that it could happen to anyone at all is a complete disgrace. Supposedly you're innocent unless proven guilty. Shouldn't they at least follow the same rule as the police and give people chance to have a lawyer with them?""Couldn't agree more." He slides the cheese plate toward her. "Try some of the Roquefort. It's very good."*****All goes quiet and after several days, we have heard no more.It seems that Adrian Barclay has gotten the message to conduct any Revenue investigation he still thinks appropriate through conventional channels. My Master is clearly unconcerned by that prospect, shrugging it off. "They
I wake early, rolling over to find the bed beside me empty. The blankets are flung back on his side and the sheets are still warm.Listening for movement from the bathroom instead, the almost silent pad of footsteps from the hall outside is followed by my Master nudging open the bedroom door with a tray. The scents of toast and coffee call to me, haul me upright against my pillow as though I were on strings.He sets the tray alongside me, then, perching a hip on the bedside, leans in to brush his lips over mine. "How are you this morning, my Love?" His words are soft, but worry lurks there, like a shark in the shallows. "Did you sleep well?"I switch on my best and brightest smile. "I'm fine, Master. And yes, I slept very well…" The unease fades behind his eyes. "… I didn't expect to wake up to breakfast. This is perfect. Thank you." Taking a slice of toast, I slather it with butter, pass it to him, then butter another for myself. "You're up and about very early. Has something happened