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
Facing each other from the scooped ends of the bath, and with a fresh bottle trickling condensation, we lounge together, sipping wine pale as the first primrose."So, why did they call you away, Master? What were they arguing about? The mayor and the police commissioner?"He winces, then sips at his glass. "The mayor, Vandervoort, wants more police on the streets."I puzzle over that one. "Wouldn't the police commissioner want that too? More boots on sidewalks must be good for everyone, surely?""Yes, he would. As I've mentioned, Will Stanton is a man of great common sense. He believes strongly in, among other things, community policing.""So… what's the problem? That sounds like an agreement. Not an argument."Grimacing, he stares into his glass, swishing the wine around. "The problem is that Will is working within budget constraints set by the mayor. More boots on the sidewalks, as you put it, mean more salaries plus the associated costs plus more facilities to house the extra office
"So, there's a gardener?" I ask."I've had someone in, tidying it up. But I've not done anything beyond that. I assumed you would want to make your stamp on it."I point to a break in the wall, a gate standing half-open. "What's through there?""Vegetable garden. Plenty of space there to supply anything we need if you wanted to do that?""Sounds lovely." Trotting across, I take a quick peek at turned soil, neatly planted with rows of beans and peas. A stand of raspberry canes takes up one corner. A large ironwork glasshouse another.A long pergola frames a path leading toward the far end of the garden; a green tunnel, blooming honeysuckle and passion flowers. We follow it, ducking rambling climbers. I snatch the scent of jasmine from here, the fragrance of lavender from there.In this green and perfumed bower, my Master pauses, looping an arm around my waist. "Come here…" He pulls me in close, his mouth falling on mine.Above us, a bird rustles and flutters in the tangled havoc of an a
Darting upstairs, I take a few seconds to tap into the weather app on my phone…Sunny, but cool…No bikinis then…?Long walks along the beach…I fold two pairs of jeans into my suitcase, slotting sneakers in between, then add half a dozen tee shirts and a couple of pullovers.Find a local fish restaurant…Muted but classy…A nice evening dress goes in the case. Not too showy. Good for smart-casual.Accessories?I chew at a lip. Would it be OTT?Maybe…But it was his gift. He'd like me to wear them.I tuck in the jewel case with the necklace and earrings.Wonder what it's like?Converted fisherman's cottage maybe?It'll be nice. He'll have paid for a good result.Then, just on the off-chance, I toss in a bikini.*****Suitcases packed in the back of the car, we head for my Master's beach house.No one else.Not even Ross driving.Just me and my Master. Celebrating our honeymoon.Alone Time with him. It's precious.Steering one-handedly, he glances sidelong, lays a hand on my thigh. "E
As my Master unloads suitcases, I race around the house, exploring. Everything is beautiful. Everything is…Perfect…Upstairs, a suitcase in either hand, he nods me to a door. "I assume you'll want to sleep in the Master bedroom." Something in his tone makes me double-take to his expression. Mischief lurks behind a bland expression. Following his gaze, I open the door for him and step inside.It's a gorgeous room, not that I expect anything less now. Thick carpets. Walls in eggshell cream. Matching wardrobes, dressing table and drawers, all in beautiful french-polished timber.A basket chair hangs from the ceiling, overlooking the panorama outside. I pause in mid-step, eyeing the ceiling hook speculatively before being drawn back to the main feature…A four-poster bed…And it's huge.Heavy dark-wood posts, carved and whorled, support sturdy cross-posts. Curtains in a rich brocade swing from heavy-duty brass rings… Rings far in excess of what is needed to hang curtains.I trail fingers
"What I need is someone to take the disparate projects across the City and tie them together. To have the creativity and the imagination to remove the bad, preserve the good, but with the technical skills to make it happen.""Isn't Bob Moran your director for that?""Yes, he is…" My Master purses his lips, folds his arms. "Bob's a good man. Solid and reliable. I know I can trust him to do good work. That's why he's my Technical Director. But… he's not young and it's showing. His health isn't good. Truly, I think he's just counting down the days to retirement.""But… surely… You must be able to call on any number of other people. Project managers. Architects. Engineers. City planners.""I can, yes." He sounds frustrated. "But I don't need any number of people. What I need is just one man… or woman for that matter… whose vision would match mine but whose skills would complement mine. I need a… an Imagineer. I need…"His words are cut off as the breeze blusters, carrying spray into the ai
Lips curving, eyes creasing, my Master's gaze briefly lifts to mine, then lowers again as he drops his face into my cleavage, mouthing over heating skin. A hand works up under the hem of my skirt, fingering into my panties. "Ah, wet already." Fingers probe, penetrating my liquefying entrance, pump me once, twice, then withdraw.He stands back, sucking his fingers with the air of one sampling a fine vintage. "Hmmm… Good, but you need a little more yet…" His eyes settle on my belt. "That's got to go."Fumbling at the buckle, he opens it, slips the belt free of the skirt and tosses it aside. Then, reaching around, he slides the skirt around, bringing the zipper to the front. Head tilting, he sucks in his cheeks then, with a hand to either side of the zipper, he grips and heaves.For a moment, the zipper resists. But only for a moment. The slider skitters down the teeth, the whole thing yawns to a Y, then the metal base-stop abandons the fight and the zipper rips apart. As it splits, the t
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