My Master sucks at his teeth. Tugs at an ear. "I suppose we should both have thought this through before. You will appreciate that I hold some status in the City. As my wife, you also have a standing in the community.""Master, you've married a shop-keeper's daughter."Humour tugs at his lips. He levels a finger at me. "And I'm thankful for that. Elizabeth, you have a great store of common sense. I encounter far too many social flitterby's who make their way through life tagging along behind their man." He pauses, his forehead furrowing. "I'd like you to tell me about your family sometime."My throat tightens. My words are slow and reluctant. "My family?""Yes…" His frown deepens. "Your father and mother. How you grew up. I noticed you didn't talk with them very much at the wedding. Just that old uncle of yours and, was it one of your cousins?" He slips a hand over mine. "But I can see I'm making you uncomfortable. It doesn't have to be now necessarily but… sometime.""I'll do that, Ma
As my Master's grip increases, my breath draws in, but Pussy pulses hot and fluid. His belly pressed to mine, the sex flush heats our joined flesh and I moan."Aren't we the juicy one, Mrs Haswell…" The pinch tightens and I'm panting against the pressure when abruptly, snapping away his hand, dropping his face, he replaces fingers with mouth and lips.Drawing the single nipple between tongue-tip and teeth, the sharp enamel edge razors over already sensitised skin. Pain gambols to my overheated core, frisking over my breasts and chest and neck, setting my skin afire and wringing a shudder from my throat.My Master raises his face. "That's better," he comments, as though remarking on the weather. "I was beginning to wonder when I would get some real sound out of you. Let's try that again." And dropping his face once more, now to the other breast, he resumes his gentle torment of my other nipple.But now, he's moving inside me, angling himself, winding himself inside me. The torture of my
I venture out into the hallway.My bare feet sink into carpet still scented of the showroom. A tall window… It has to be twenty feet from sill to lintel… illuminates the stairwell. Slanted sunlight is captured by a vast chandelier, to be fractured, then cast in long rainbows over walls and panelling painted a cool eggshell white.Around me, the staircase leading down to the ground floor, the door I just exited, plus three others, to left and right and across the hallway. In an air of experiment, I try the door to the left. Poking my head inside…As though I shouldn't be here…… I find a bedroom, every bit as large and plush as the one I just slept in.Then, Tutting at my own foolishness…This is my house…… I enter the lovely room.A blur of impressions…A high ceiling… Plaster covings, intricately moulded, and a matching rose in the centre, the setting for another chandelier.Carpets deep enough to swallow me.Wardrobes taking up one wall, built from some beautifully grained timber, r
"Please, it's Richard." My Master offers his hand. "We're family now, aren't we? May I call you Albert?"My uncle takes the hand, but the shake is stiff, almost reluctant. "I prefer Mr Kimberley if you don't mind, Mr Haswell."What the hell…?My Master blinks, exchanging a glance with me. "Of… course… Mr Kimberley. If that's what you prefer. Can I ask…?"Whatever he was going to say is interrupted. "Dad…" It's Stephen, with a glass of wine, offering it to my uncle. "I brought you a drink. And I'll get you something to eat." He waves toward the piled buffet table. "You name it. It's on there. Chicken. Beef. Fish. Salad. What would you like?""Oh, just pick me out a few bits and pieces. You know I don't eat a lot these days.""I'll do that. Back in a minute." He strides off again toward the buffet table.My Master starts to speak again, but once more is interrupted, this time by David, offering his hand. "Mr Haswell…""It's Richard.""Richard. Great to meet you properly at last. I always
And yet still, my Master catches me unprepared…Centrepiece to the entrance hall is a pair of mirrors. The frames elaborately carved, gilt finished, they face each other from opposite walls. In proportion to the hall, supported at the base with a dado rail at waist height, each must be eight feet tall, reaching for the ceiling above.Making for the stairs and the bedroom, as I pass between them, the two great mirrors give that odd, vanishing-into-infinity effect. I'm looking at my face and the back of my head at the same time. Then, pausing at some peripheral detail in the reflections that catches my eye, I look up.There, in the ceiling above me, a hook. Solid steel by the look of it, the thing would easily support, for example, the weight of a human body.I chuckle.Nothing changes…… and I'm about to head upstairs when, from outside, comes the growl of a car engine.A bare moment to check myself in the mirrors, finger-comb my hair and smooth down my pullover, the door clicks and swi
And with the morning, I wake.My nose pressed against my Master's chest, easing back, I sniffle, clearing my airways. As I shift, something else shifts with me…Somethings else…A teardrop emerald dangles toward my shoulder, quivering with my heartbeat. Its smaller twin tickles at my right cheek. Pressure against my left cheek tells me the imprint of another teardrop will follow me for the next hour or so.And gradually, the memory of the previous evening percolates.Oh… Goddddd....What the hell is wrong with me?My Master…The man I love most in the world…The man I dreamed of…And I treated him like…"Elizabeth?" The scent of coffee drifts by and my brain cells line up, standing to attention, snapping my eyes open.Fully dressed, perched on the bedside beside me, he offers a steaming cup. Sitting up, I take it, sipping at liquid still a little too hot for comfort. "Thank you, Master."A smile lurks behind his eyes. Nonetheless, it is the Dom watching me. "Perhaps I permitted you too
Straining uselessly against my restraints, heart banging, blood pounding, my world is pain and the promise of the coming Rush as Pussy clutches for what is not yet there.After a few moments, I calm down again. A hand cups behind my skull, supporting me as something touches my lips. "Have a little wine, my Love. It will help with the rest."?"Er… The rest, Master?"Laughter shimmers through his voice. "You didn't think I was done, did you? There's more to your gift yet.""How much more?""You'll find out. When I'm done, I'll let you see. But for now, you're all mine.""I think this gift was as much for you as for me, Master.""As all the best gifts are. Both giver and receiver benefit. Now…" A touch of chill brushes my splayed lips and involuntarily, I jolt. "… Relax, my Love. I'm going to finish dressing you in a while, but first…"Close by my ear, something buzzes… Oh, God…He's going to edge me…On our vast marriage bed, blindfolded and restrained, quivering, I wait.Lying on my b
Fingers tug at the strap around my left thigh, as though twanging a garter. The already stretched pussy lip extends further under the biting teeth and I suck in air.The fingers release, the strap rebounding with an elastic Snap! Pain zigzags through the lip and I'm still yodelling a protest when a matching Snap! rattles through the other lip. But inside, something flips and convulses, gushing hot juices."That will do nicely."Hot flesh meets mine, my Master's mouth locking onto my gaping entrance. Inside I pulse, a wave rising, that ripples, rises, begins to surge and…He breaks away.Inside me, the vibe dies.Quivering and gasping, the wail shudders from my throat."Oh, no, my Love. I've not nearly finished with you yet."Inwardly I groan.Outwardly too…"Master, I need to come. Please let me…""All in good time, Elizabeth. Be patient. You know you'll reap the benefit in due course.""Master…"The buzzing thing inside me starts up again, drumming an arpeggio against my already twitc
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