by Ami Snow
“On your knees, bitch. I said fetch. No hands.”
Piper trembled, her heart battering against her chest as she crumpled to the ground on all fours. Seth leaned further back into the cushion of his chair as he stroked the emerging bulge on his crotch through the fabric of his slacks. The exaggerated apple-shaped curves of her cheeks were enriched through her form-fitting pencil skirt, her white panties peeking out at him. He grunted, unbuckling his slacks and unleashing the fully-erect rod in his pants. He spit into his hands and slathered it over his shaft, beating off to the tantalizing, taboo view.
Piper clenched her teeth around the pen, the buttons on her chest bursting as she bent towards the ground. She gasped, the crotch of her panties soaking, her milling thoughts subsiding. She could feel his yearning, thirsting stare on her body, filling her with a surge of buzzing arousal. Just like that, she not only realized, but succumbed to her role wholeheartedly, the unyielding desire to please, flowering within her.
Her neatly-painted lips pressed down on the pen as she turned towards Seth. She prowled towards him slowly, her confined breasts jiggling, captivated by her visible, daisy-white bra. Seth's features were contorted in a glowering look of pleasure, stunned by the delicious contrast between her fresh-faced, girl-next-door features, and the womanly globes of her heavy, peachy-cream breasts enrapturing him with their natural bounce. She glanced up at him innocently with her round, twinkling blue eyes, nuzzling his knee with the tip of her nose.
“Who's a good girl?”
Piper shivered, the words flowing through her. She unclenched her teeth on the pen, dropping it by his polished dress shoes. She wagged her tongue, gazing lustfully at the engorging cock within his grip, Seth's fingers adorned with large, silver rings.
“Do you want a little taste of Daddy's cock? Is that what you want?”
“Yes, I –”
Piper gasped as Seth backhanded her across the cheek, tears springing to her eyes. He leered at her, baring his straight, pearly-white teeth, “Bitches don't talk.”
Piper flicked away the tear rolling down her cheek. She nodded, her protracted tongue wagging as she audibly panted, her raised palms curved downwards like an obedient pooch.
“Good girl,” breathed Seth, petting her on top of her head, tousling her tidily styled, strawberry-blonde locks.
Piper relished his words, her extended tongue catching the tip of his cock. Seth groaned, sinking back into his chair as she slid her jaw down the shaft of his cock, the slight creases under her chin deepening. She grabbed his cock with both hands, staring up at him with unshrinking, watery eyes as she circled her tongue around the pulsing tip of his pole. She tickled the spheres of his sack, massaging it around in her hands as she caressed his cock with deep, slurping sucks. She savored the dazed look in the powerful man's intense, dark, chocolatey eyes, his fingers scratching against the armrests of his chair, completely under her spell. She sensed his approaching climax as his legs squirmed against her, his knees pressing against the curves of her hips. Her grip around the base of his cock tightened as she squeezed his swelling cock in his mouth, his warm, saltine-tinged juices trickling down her throat.
Piper gasped, pulling away. She licked the excess of his tasty emissions off her lips and fixed the buttons over her chest. Her eyes were fixated upon an impression of a wheel dented into the carpet, the tinkling of Seth's belt buckles as he dressed, ringing in her ears.
“You've got the job. You start at nine sharp tomorrow morning.”
Chapter Five –
“Honey, I'm home!”
Piper's cheery voice trilled from the open doorway. She set the cluster of paper bags and boxes down on the floor as she kicked off her heels. She bulleted towards the living room, her flushed cheeks rosy with exhilaration. She stopped in her tracks as her purse began to vibrate, reaching in for her cellphone. She ground her teeth, her shoulders tensing as she stared at her mother's blinking name on the screen.
“Hey Mama, how you doing?”
“Piper? Is that you? Can you hear me?”
“Yes Mama, crystal clear –”
“Now that you've abandoned me here while you've run off to live the big life in the city, it's so hard to get a clear connection.”
“I can hear every last word, Mama,” Piper sighed bitterly, picking at the dirt under her fingernails.
“So how've you been holding up?”
“It's actually been great, Mama! Los Angeles is amazing, and guess what, I got that secretary position at Maxwell Creative –”
“Oh?” Lily sniffed from the other end of the line, “Never heard of it. Are you sure you're not being conned by one of those crazy city men –”
“You need to tone down on those crazy true crime shows, Mama. I think they're getting to you –”
“You ungrateful little tart. You calling me crazy? The lot of you, just like your spineless prick of a father –”
“Mama, it was a joke,” Piper groaned, kneading her temples, “Please don't escalate –”
“Don't you talk to me like I'm a child,” sputtered Lily, the line crackling with her rage, “If that's how you're gonna be, you can rot in the city for all I care –”
“Mama, no –”
Piper shook her head as the dead line blared in her ear, ending the call with a furious tap on her screen. She gazed at her screen pensively, her thoughts tumbling in her head. Electing to call her mother back at a later hour, she slipped her phone back into her purse. She shimmied her shoulders loose, the corners of her mouth twitching as her lips broadened to a smile. She strutted towards the living room, determined not to let her mother's constant put-downs dampen her spirit.
Courtney was curled up in the corner of the sofa with an Agatha Christie novel in her hands, a pashmina blanket draped over her bare legs. She held up a finger, her eyes darting from side to side as she finished the last page of her chapter. She tossed her book to the side and looked up at Piper, who was positively bouncing with exuberance. Her eyebrows heightened skeptically as she watched Piper unload a magenta oven-toaster and a shiny, high-powered hand mixer. Piper handed her a large white box, Courtney's eyes widening instinctively at the distinctive designer logo printed across the lid.
“Oh my god, Piper, what is all this?”
Courtney gasped, clapping a hand across her cheek as she lifted the white wrapping paper, unveiling the very pair of cognac-brown, knee-high leather boots she had secretly been pining for.
“Holy crap, Pipes! Are these seriously for me? These must've cost you a fortune!”
“You're welcome.”
“Don't get me wrong, I love it and I think I'm in love with you right now, but how exactly do you plan on paying for all of this? I assume you paid with a credit card – you do know that's not magic money, you've gotta pay off the –”
“Please,” chortled Piper, “We've got credit cards in Chestwood, I'm familiar with how they work, thanks.” She rifled through another bag and produced three identical sets of crisp, white button-downs with especially high collars. “Well, what do you think?”
“No way, you got the job?” Courtney's eyes widened, “But Maxwell was such a dick, I didn't think you had a chance, no offense –”
“He's a character,” admitted Piper, “But he's not so bad – I mean, he offered me the job, didn't he?”
“Right,” muttered Courtney, her eyes darkening as she scanned through the cluster of boxes, wrapping paper, and glinting, new-fangled items strewn about the coffee table and floor. She cleared her throat, masking her brewing jealousy with a small, inquisitive smile, “Is he starting you out on base pay, or?”
“Well, I'm not too sure what minimum wage is in the city, but it's twice my paycheck back home,” Piper clarified, her voice shrilling with her unbeatable enthusiasm. She cleared her throat, wetting her lips, “And he says if I perform well, I'll be getting fat bonuses as well. Health care, they've got it all at Maxwell Creative, don't they?”
Courtney burrowed her fi
ngernails into the cushion of the sofa, silently seething. She had been given a barely livable base salary at the start of her job, and had to endure half a year of strenuous butt-kissing, unpaid overtime, and consecutive ramen dinners before her luck changed for the better. The trial employment period was a definite tribulation the majority of the employees at Maxwell Creative had to withstand with no corners cut, including some of the most valued employees at the company. Yet here Piper was, strolling idly into possibly one of the most sought-after interviews of the year, with her humble, country-reeking excuse of a fashion sense, simply wheeling through with flying colors.
“– can't wait till I start perking up my desk – can you believe it? I've got a desk! Anyway, I'm gonna go start dinner. I'm gonna make us some paella to celebrate!”
“Cool, you go do that.”
Courtney's fists curled at her sides, flashing back to the long, rickety desk she was forced to share with four other interns for six months. She shook her head, unable to accept Piper's bizarre luck. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the stench of canned anchovies floating in from the kitchen.
Chapter Six –
Piper's noisy, breathless moans were drowned out by the padded, soundproofed walls of the sizable recording studio situated in Seth's office. She gasped, beads of sweat dribbling down her forehead splattering against the round pop filter of the microphone Seth held her under lips. Her wrists were tied bound together with microphone cords behind her back, her skirt rumpled around her ankles. Seth knelt down behind her, biting down on his tongue as he concentrated. His wrists ached as he vigorously pumped the folded end of a microphone mount, wrapped in an extra-large condom, in and out the crudely ripped hole of her pantyhose.
Seth rose from the ground, slowly pulling the sopping wet microphone mount out of her. He leaned towards her, lapping against the rippling insides of her thick thighs, catching her secreting juices with his tongue. Piper convulsed, her knees limping as she lowered her face to the table, the cold metal pressing against her cheek. She yelped, squirming helplessly as he slapped her loudly across the face, snatching the microphone from under her. She craned her neck towards Seth, whimpering from the soreness budding in her cheek. He fidgeted with his recording equipment, his fingers flitting over the mixer board as he held a large headphone to his ear.
Seth rose suddenly from his seat, grinning triumphantly as he stalked towards Piper. She breathed a sigh of relief as he untied her, rubbing her sore wrists as she toppled to the ground. She slipped off her skirt and booted her clothes and undergarments to the corner. She gazed up at him expectantly, heeling, raising her downturned palms, awaiting his instruction. Seth cocked an eyebrow, his lips twisting in an alluring, thin-lipped smirk.
“Good girl.”
Piper squeezed her raised arms together and released them, her hefty, burgeoning breasts quivering exquisitely as they bounced out from between her arms. Seth's lips parted, incapable of peeling his eyes off her moist, maple-tinted areolas. She detected his fixed gaze on her audaciously exposed breasts, her eyes sparkling with an awakened friskiness. She scraped her tongue across her curved fingers, coating them with spit and lowered them to her breasts. Her eyes squeezed shut, sultry, gasping breaths fluttering out of her lips as she teased herself, rubbing up against her erect nipples in slow, circular motions.
Seth fumbled around in his pockets, wiggling his thick eyebrows. He unpeeled the silver wrappers off of drop-shaped chocolate pieces and scattered them across the carpet. He puckered his lips, jabbing his crooked finger towards the floor.
“Good little girls deserve treats.”
Piper stuck out her tongue, panting gleefully as she burrowed her nose to the ground, the fibers of the carpet prickling her face. She chewed happily, the sweet, creamy chocolate swishing around in her mouth. She swallowed, extending her tongue, yipping as she thrusted her raised palms, her eyes zeroed in on the crinkled candy wrappers littered across the floor.
“You want some more?” Seth probed, his expression darkening, “You gotta work for it first, bitch. Show your master what an obedient girl you are.”
Piper squeaked as Seth lunged towards her and positioned her on her fours. He placed a pair of headphones over her ears, Piper's knees trembling as her uncontrolled, almost delirious moans of pure ecstasy looped endlessly in her ears. She peeked behind her shoulder, catching a quick glimpse of a crimson, studded collar, complete with a leash and handle, before feeling the rushing strike of his palm against her cheek. He kneeled behind her and fastened the collar around her neck, the pointed spikes scintillating under the brilliant halogen lights of the studio. She gasped, her breath tightening in her throat, the puffy nipples of her swaying breasts tingling.
Seth clamped the headphones forcefully around her ears, the tip of his full erection slipping lightly between the deep cracks of her cheeks. He pulled one headphone away from her ear and leaned towards her, whispering, his hot breath tickling against her ear, “I want you to hear nothing but your sounds of pleasure as I fuck you – I want you to hear how good you fucking sound. Understood?”
Piper yipped in reply, breathing out her parted lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, her thighs quivering as Seth tickled the folds of her sodden cunt. He yanked on the leash, her head jolting backwards as he slipped the full length of his veined, quivering shaft between her divinely tight crevices. He coiled the cord of the leash around his fingers, firming his control on her. The whites in his eyes flickered, relishing the unbelievable tautness of her cunt folds as he plowed in and out of her. Piper's throat tingled, parched with her inaudible screams of ecstasy, the sounds of her repeating, turbulent moans warbling in her ears.
“Blue – blueberry – p – pie,” Piper choked breathlessly, tears springing to her eyes.
Seth loosened his grip around the leash and grabbed hold onto the subtle creases of her hips, hastening the pace of his thrusting. He pulled out of her, Piper turning around eagerly with her gaping mouth, finishing between her candy-red lips.
Piper swallowed his load, dabbing at the corners of her mouth self-consciously. She removed the headphones from her ears and placed the costly equipment delicately upon the rack. Her body wracked with the remnants of her pleasured pain, she staggered towards the pile of her clothes. She winced, massaging the stinging out of her neck as she silently dressed.
“Just curious – why do you insist on using 'blueberry pie'?”
Piper started, taken aback by his question. The corners of her lips crinkled as she smoothed the edges of her skirt over her thighs, “It's pretty literal, actually. My mom was a lot to take growing up – she had bipolar tendencies, enough to drive my dad away. He left us for some young bimbo up in Staten Island. Never stopped her from blaming me though. My Nana was my rock growing up – she used to bake these amazing blueberry pies. Honestly, I don't know what it is, but something about her pies just makes me feel safe, you know?”
Seth nodded quietly, softening as he studied the look of despondency flashing across her downcast eyes. Piper quivered, averting her gaze as he brushed his finger along her round cheeks, trailing across her supple jaw. He cupped her chin with his hand and pulled him towards him, the hooked tip of his nose grazing softly against hers.
“Pipes, you in – oh my god.”
Piper's eyes widened at the unexpected intrusion, sneakily kicking the incriminating leash under the mixer tables. Courtney's floating head froze through the gap of the door, her eyes bugging out in surprise. Piper's stomach wrenched as Courtney muttered a quick apology and closed the door quietly behind her.
Chapter Seven –
Piper flattened the high collar of her blouse over her neck as she chased Courtney down the hallway. She gasped, clutching her heaving chest as she caught up with her frazzled, fuming cousin by the elevators. Courtney cringed as Piper's unmistakable silhouette approximated towards her from the corner of her eye. She turned towards her breathless cousin, her expression wiped clean of emotions, her face a blank, stoic s
late. Piper noticed the feigned surprise in Courtney's enlarged eyes, frowning.
“Oh, hey, Pipes. What's up? I was gonna come get you for lunch, but evidently, I've caught you at a bad time.”
“Come on, Courtney – don't be like that,” pleaded Piper, scowling, “Don't try that passive aggressive bullshit us Cabots are famous for – let's talk, please?”
Courtney lifted her nose in the air, staring straight at the floor-length slit of the closed elevator doors, “We've got nothing to talk about.”
Piper ignored the quizzical, curious glances from the balding, suited man next to them as she grabbed onto Courtney's elbow. Courtney struggled briefly before submitting to Piper's overpowering strength, her shoulders slackening in defeat as Piper led her towards the steel gray doors of the fire exit.
“Okay, fine,” snapped Courtney, prodding at her elbows, as she paced back and forth by the flight of stairs, “What're you on, steroids? I'm here. What do you want from me?”
“Easy,” said Piper softly, “What you saw in Mr. Maxwell's studio there – it's not exactly what it looks like –”
“Please,” snorted Courtney, flourishing her arms, “By all means, Pipes. The stage is yours. Enlighten me.”
Piper scratched at the nape of her neck, stammering, “Okay, I – uh, what exactly did you see?”
“Unbelievable,” spat Courtney, sticking a hand on her hip. She shook her head, sneering, “Honestly, Pipes, you surprise me. Never would've pegged you for the office-slut type. Just so you know, that's not how we do things around here – us city girls have this thing called self-control. Might wanna add that in your dictionary. We're just a little classier than that.”
A deep, scarlet shade blossomed across Piper's cheeks as she bared her gritted teeth, clenched in escalating anger, “Okay, first of all, I'm sick of your 'city-girl' nonsense. Get the hell off your high horse already, why don't ya? And FYI – yeah, us bumbling townsfolk may not know the difference between a slingback from a strap-on, but I've got enough culture inside me to know real women never slut-shame – and we're never ashamed of our roots – ever.”
