Back at our table, we sip at liqueurs, nibble at slivers of mint chocolate. "It's late," says my Master. "Time for us to say goodnight."Will rises. "Goodnight, Richard." He stoops to kiss my cheek. "Good night, Beth. I'll be in touch next week about the next stage of the project."Irene's brow furrows…I rise, returning the cheek kiss. "I'll have something for you later in the week, Will. To first draft level, at least."… and her eyes narrow. She mutters furiously at her husband, who merely shrugs her away. And my Master hasn't missed any of it. His gaze flicks this way and that; me, Irene, her husband; but he appears calm.Grace too, takes me at the shoulder as we exchange kisses. "It was lovely to meet you, Beth. We should all get together for dinner sometime.""I'd like that." But I'm already reaching for my Master's proffered hand. "Good night, everyone."As we cross the floor to the elevator, although his expression is steady, his lips are pinched. The doors swish open, then clo
"Let's see if we can do better than good."Fingers still assault my clit, but the palm shifts. Flat against my belly, it presses hard, but behind me, my Master moves, grinding in, rotating his hips, the exquisite hardness of his penis corkscrewing into my G-spot. Robbed of my voice, I can only gasp and whimper and shudder.The Rush is coming. The shimmer inside. The pressure like no other. Welling up from somewhere deep. Like heat. Like electricity. Like tension. It radiates from my core, swirling out, winding and twisting as my Master winds and twists his body into mine.The heat soars. The electricity sparks and fizzes. The tension hums like ropes vibrating in the wind.My climax mushrooms, then skyrockets, then starbursts.My body tries to break free, tries to buck and spasm, but the grip around me tightens, and the relentless winding pressure inside me only surges. Harder. Faster. More powerful.Pulse upon ecstatic pulse undulates through me, taking my mind and my sight with it.I
"Something wrong, Master?"His attention jolts toward me and the frown evaporates, replaced with a smile. "It's nothing, my Love." Tapping off the screen, he straightens up, sliding the tablet aside. The smile broadens, creasing up into his eyes. "My apologies. I shouldn't do this at breakfast, should I. A time when we should be enjoying each other's company. Talking together. I have an entire workday in the office to deal with my messages. Oh…"… He raises a finger… "… On the subject of talking, that girl from the newspaper you hit it off with at the charity gala. Schmidt's niece. Claudia was it? She's sent me the article she wrote after that impromptu interview you set up between us."He re-opens the tablet, tapping through screens until a page of text opens up, then slides it across the table to me... "… This is what she's sent in for my approval."I speed-scan the contents… Mr Haswell spoke at length on the responsibilities of the wealthy and the privileged to employ their wealth
Should I have the locks changed?No… find out what she's been doing first…There's only so many ways in and out of the house.So, I set myself to wait. And watch.*****And there she is, heading for the gate, my housekeeper's vehicle, a white van, crunching over the gravelled drive at less than a walking pace.To make no sound?She's sneaking out?Sprinting back down the stairs, I snatch keys from the hall table, dashing past my startled Master… "Eliza…"But I'm gone.In the garage, Ross, his feet up on a table, marks something onto a crossword puzzle. My Master's BMW gleams beside my own, much smaller and more modest, model. "Ross, my car. Quick!""Beth?" He sounds as startled as my Master."She's getting away!""Who?""Mrs Martin!"He swings up, grabbing at keys. "Let me drive. You can navigate.""No navigation. Just follow her van." Gravel sprays as, jaw set, Ross swerves us down the drive and out. "You know there's something going on, don't you?"He grimaces. "I don't know anything
Winter jasmine blooms brilliant yellow behind the glossy red stalks of a stand of dogwood. Snowdrops peek out at the base, promising a spring still several weeks away. But despite the earliness of the year, sunshine has thawed the frost and, armed with boots, gloves and woollens, the garden is a winter paradise.Claudia, notebook in hand, has arrived with an arsenal of questions, obviously picking up from her previous conversation with my Master. The garden itself provides a cue."It's a gorgeous house and the garden is beautiful. You must feel very… privileged… to live in such a lovely home." She swallows hard, holding up her phone to demonstrate it is set to Record. "May I?"My Master slants a look her way. "You may."Inhaling, he pauses, then continues. "Yes, you are quite correct. I am indeed privileged. And the privileged have a vast range of options when it comes to how they make use of their wealth. That wealth can be used for necessities… The basics of life… Or for personal ben
Picking out a matching pair of cut-glass brandy bells that were a wedding present from someone-or-other, I pour two generous measures. I sip at one to calm my butterflies then, when the butterflies keep fluttering, top up both glasses by a bit. Then a bit more.But when I go through to the lounge, my Master's not there, and the lounge is in darkness save for the flicker from the hearth.Instead, a beam of light slants into the hall from the door of his office. Padding through, I find him crouched over his desk, reading a file."Master? I brought your brandy.""Thank you, Elizabeth." He smiles, accepting the glass, but then, "Why don't you go to bed? There's some work I must do.""So late?""While it's quiet and I won't be disturbed."*****I wake to the subdued light of my bedside lamp. The book I was reading has fallen open on my chest. Beside me, the bed is empty and cold, the blankets untouched.What's he doing?Barefoot, I slip downstairs to see a long sliver of light spilling fro
My Master is wearing his customary white linen shirt with the black jeans he knows I like. I've noticed recently that his wardrobe contains more of both jeans and shirts than when we first met.Unravelling his tie, for a moment, he looks about to slide it from under his collar. Then, glancing sidelong, he takes one of the cuffs I set out, letting it dangle. "Good choice," he says. Taking off the tie, he lays it across the back of a chair. Holding my eyes, he unfastens the top button of his shirt. "The rest are yours, Elizabeth."Gliding my palms up his chest, I slip open the second button, then the third, working my way down before, glancing up for permission, I tug the shirt free of his belt and unfasten the final button.My Master. So handsome. Older, but he cares for himself. His chest hair is flecked silver. Nonetheless, his abs and pecs are taut, his waist firm and tight, his belly flat.Below his belt though, he is not flat. The dark fabric of his jeans strains, the buttoned fro
Equally limp, panting, I collapse, my face flat to the mattress.Well… I wanted him to let off steam…"Master?""Thank you, Elizabeth. I needed that.""You're welcome. And yes, I know you needed it."A kiss plants between my shoulders before, lifting away, he frees my wrists then, scooping me up, dumps me onto the bed and rolls to lie beside me.I roll too, lying side-on to lay my cheek on his chest. "And now, Master, I would like you to tell me what the problem is. What is upsetting you?""My Love…" He takes my hand, kisses the knuckle… "… it is not fair to burden you with my difficulties.""Master, your difficulties are our difficulties. Whatever affects one of us, affects both. When we married, we promised to look after each other. To share everything."He arches a brow. "In fact, Elizabeth, in my capacity as both your Dom and husband, it's my duty to look after you.""Bullshit!" His eyes widen. I assume at my bad language. "We're a married couple. We look after each other. And I ca
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