by S. J. Lewis
“There’s a big mansion, out in the country somewhere,” she began. “It’s a huge place, and it’s surrounded by a high wall, very private and secure. There’s a big party going on there, in a huge hall. All of the men are wearing elegant and very expensive suits…” She fell silent for a moment.
“And the women?” he prompted her with another one-armed hug.
“I was getting to that,” she murmured. “There are plenty of women there, but no matter how they were dressed when they were brought in, whether they wore beautiful gowns or jeans and t-shirts, now they’re all buck-naked. They’re all blindfolded with a soft black cloth. They’re also all handcuffed. Well, sometimes their hands are tied behind them, with more cloth or ropes…but usually they’re handcuffed. There’s just something about the simplicity of handcuffs…that cold, hard steel imprisoning that soft, warm flesh…”
He made a sound of assent to let her know he was listening.
“I’m one of the women there. None of us saw any of the others before we were prepared and led into the hall, but I know there are a lot of other women there besides me.”
“How do you know?” he asked. He felt her shrug.
“Different ways,” she answered. “I can smell their different perfumes, or I can hear a woman’s voice whenever one of the men touches or fondles her. I don’t know exactly how many other women there are, but I know they’re there. I can’t see, so if I move, I move very carefully, kind of sliding my feet along the thick carpeting. Every so often I can feel a man’s hands on my ass or my breasts or my waist. Sometimes it’s a caress, sometimes it’s more like a squeeze, or maybe an affectionate pat. You see, the men are walking among all these chained and naked women to pick out which one they want to spend the night with. We can’t see them, and we can’t stop them from touching us. Some of the men pinch my nipples, not too hard, just to hear what kind of noise I might make when they do that. Others run a finger or a thumb across my lips. Somehow I know that that’s a signal for me to open my mouth for them, so I do, and then the finger or thumb might go into my mouth. If it does, I suck on it, gently.”
She shivered in his arms. “It’s all very slow-motion and dreamlike at first, but as time goes by, the hands on my body get harder and rougher. At some point, a man grips me by the back of my neck to guide me. He presses me up against another woman, and we have to kiss and move against each other for the amusement of all the men. Her mouth is hot…not warm, HOT…and I can feel that her breasts are bigger than mine. I can smell her perfume very clearly then, but I can also tell that she’s very excited and aroused…just as I am.”
“Interesting,” he said. Indeed, it was very interesting. He could feel himself getting aroused by her story. “Is that it?”
“Oh, no!” she chuckled. “It goes on. You see, when a man finally chooses a woman, he puts a big leather collar on her and buckles it in place himself. Then he clips a leash to it and begins to lead her away…to a more private place. There’s always this terrific rush I get when I feel the collar being put around my neck.”
“And then what?”
It usually ends there,” she replied sleepily. “By then, I’m usually worked up enough to get myself off pretty quickly. You see, the main thing is to be CHOSEN. Being chosen is very pretty much the whole point, so I put up with all of the feeling and groping and fondling and semi-forced girl-girl stuff. Not that I mind it all that much…”
“Mind what?” he asked. “The feeling or the groping or the…”
“ANY of it, you dimbulb male.” She pinched his side playfully. “It’s what we have to go through to be chosen. The men don’t only want to know how we look or feel, but what we do, too…how we react to all those things. That’s how they pick us.”
“But you don’t even know who picked you or what he looks like.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. “But that just add to the fantasy. I DON’T know who picked me, and I don’t know what he plans to do.”
“So the uncertainty is a turn-on?” He felt her shiver.
“Oh, yes!” She was emphatic. “Will he be kind or cruel? Sometimes I can get a clue from the way he puts the collar on me, or how hard he pulls on the leash to get me moving.”
“You said it usually ends there. What happens when it doesn’t end there?”
She shrugged. “It depends. I’m led away to another room. Sometimes it’s nearby, sometimes it’s a long walk to some remote part of the mansion. I know we’ve arrived when I hear a big, heavy door close behind me.”
“Mmmm…” he began stroking her back gently. “And then what?”
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” she asked.
“How can you tell?” he responded jokingly.
“Oh…little things,” she answered. He felt her fingers close softly around his cock. “I can just tell.”
He had to chuckle. “But then what, Red? What does he do to you in that private room?”
“Ah…” she hesitated before going on. “I didn’t tell you…sometimes I’m led down long flights of stairs. When I feel cold stones under my feet instead of thick carpet, I now I’ve been taken to some dark, dark basement. Sometimes I can hear other women moaning or screaming, but faintly, like they were behind thick wooden doors. I think it’s some kind of dungeon, and I get a bit scared then. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. Actually, there was nothing I could do about it once I agreed to come here. I knew that all along.” Her fingers, slim and strong, closed more tightly around the shaft of his cock and began slowly stroking it. He could feel himself swelling and hardening.
“Ahhh...Red…”
“Hush,” she admonished him. Her fingers kept stroking and squeezing. “Let me finish. I can hear other men’s voices, all around me, but they’re talking so quietly I can’t make out what they’re saying, or how many of them there are. Then I feel hard, strong hands grab me and force me to my knees on those cold stones. I try to fight them, but they’re too many and too strong, and I get slapped for resisting. They hold me there so I can’t get up, and then I feel someone grab me by my hair and I get slapped again. I know what’s coming, and I know I can’t stop it, but I try to at first.” She took a deep breath. “And then…I give up. I yield. I whimper once just before I open my mouth as wide as I can for the first hard, merciless cock…”
He never did hear any more of her story, because he felt her lips close around the head of his own hard, merciless cock and begin to suck. He took a fistful of her coppery hair, but did not use the grip to urge her on. She knew what she was doing, and she could do it very well, and he never interfered with an expert who knew what they were doing. He could hear her making little murmurs of pleasure along with the soft, wet sounds he was coming to know so well. He’d been pretty well drained before, and it was probably going to take her a while to make him come again, but if she didn’t mind, he sure as Hell didn’t mind either. He squeezed the back of her neck once, gently. Something about her pose made him think, irrationally, of a vampire feeding on her prey. He almost laughed out loud at the thought but didn’t. She would have wanted to know what he was laughing at. He didn’t think he could explain it clearly, and anyway it would break the mood. He gave her slender neck another affectionate squeeze and moaned just loud enough for her to hear.
Chapter Three
“You want any breakfast?”
“Just coffee, thanks,” Claudia replied. “Not enough time to eat anything.”
“Red,” Sam shook his head, “it’s not as if you’re gonna get docked if you show up a couple of minutes late, is it? And you’re not the only one with a key to the office, are you?”
“Well, no,” Claudia admitted as she took a quick sip of her coffee. She liked it hot, black and strong. Sam liked to experiment with different kinds of coffee and this morning’s brew tasted faintly of something vanilla-ish. It wasn’t bad. “But I am the boss, after all. Anyway, you’re the one who took up so much time this morning.”
“Was
that me? I could’ve sworn it was us, Red.”
She gave him a shy, sly smile. “Okay, it was us,” she agreed with a big grin. She looked very trim and businesslike in her skirt, blouse and jacket, nothing at all like the rumpled, straining, squalling hellion of a half-hour ago. She liked it rough, and she especially liked it from behind. He was going to have to change all the bedsheets, but…it had definitely been worth it, even if he was going to have to eat breakfast alone because of it.
He watched her down the last of the coffee and place the mug in the sink. “I should be back in the early afternoon,” she smiled up at him before leaning forward and standing on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Will you be here?”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close for a more thorough kiss. She responded happily before pulling away. “Really, Sam, I have to go now or I’ll be late,” she protested.
“All right, all right,” he nodded, letting her go. As she turned away, he couldn’t resist giving her well-tailored rump a light swat. She jumped a little and giggled back at him over her shoulder before hurrying out the door of her apartment. He heard her lock it behind her. She always did that. He knew it was probably out of force of habit. It did feel sometimes, though, as if she were locking him in.
Well, that’s that, he thought. Another morning all to himself, when what he really wanted was Red all to himself. She just wouldn’t let go of her business, even for a little while. He could understand that. He had a business of his own, and had been just as worried about and protective of it when it was just starting up too. Still…he sighed once and shook his head. Tomorrow was Saturday. Her office wasn’t open on the weekends.
He stood up and paced slowly around the small kitchen table. The idea of spending all weekend here in her apartment, keeping her naked and bound…or chained…and eager had a certain appeal, but the fact was that there was only so much you could do in a day…or two…even with such a willing and lovely captive. Anyway, he wanted to know her in other ways and in other places. What kind of movies did she like? Did she like to bowl or play pool, did she like sports, and if so, what kind? What did she do for fun when he wasn’t around?
There was an awful lot he just didn’t know about her. He wanted to know everything, but he had no idea where to begin.
He stopped pacing and looked around at the kitchen. He’d been in a lot of women’s kitchens over the years, and every one of them had told him something about the woman who ran it. This one told him almost nothing. It was neat and clean and as impersonal as a showroom. There were no decorations, no flowers, not even artificial ones, in a vase to give a touch of color. The appliances were all either white or bright chrome, and the only ones that showed any sign of regular use were the microwave oven and the coffeemaker. Why did she even have a food processor? Had it been a gift from someone who just didn’t know her that well?
He cracked open a couple of eggs into the skillet and added the peppers and onions that he’d chopped up earlier. Alone or not, he still wanted his breakfast. He had time for that and for cleaning up afterwards before he would need to make those phone calls.
Claudia eased her car into her usual spot. She was ten minutes early and couldn’t get that smug half-smile off of her face. Sam knew what she liked almost better than she did, and she had liked this morning very much indeed. She retrieved the sunscreen from the back seat and propped it up in her windshield before getting out of her car and going on to unlock the office door. As she was entering, she saw Amanda’s elderly little Toyota pulling up. Years and miles had dulled the original paint to a pale, flat dishwater gray, and there was a small crack in the windshield, but it seemed to run pretty well, and it was likely that Amanda couldn’t afford anything else. Claudia smiled and waved before going inside.
“Good morning, Miss Cole,” Amanda smiled as she bustled in a few moments later.
“Good morning, Amanda,” Claudia smiled back as she waited for her computer to boot up. “But I told you to call me ‘Claudia’ not ‘Miss Cole’, remember?”
“Sorry,” Amanda looked rueful. “I keep forgetting.”
“It’s all right. Anything happen after I left yesterday?”
“Ah…no.” Amanda put her oversized purse down on her desk and bustled over to the office coffeemaker. “Oh, wait! A Detective Sanchez called for you around three. She said she’d call back this morning.”
“Did she say what the call was about?”
“No,” Amanda shook her head. “Just that it could wait until this morning.”
“Okay,” Claudia nodded. She couldn’t think of any reason for Sanchez to call here unless it was important…but if it had really been important she would have called her at home…wouldn’t she?
Amanda came back to her desk and started her computer. The coffeemaker began to gurgle quietly to itself. Claudia rose from her chair and went back to the older computer that had the only Internet connection in the office. It was getting creaky and cranky in its old age, and it would probably be a good idea to replace it soon. She clicked it on. Normally she’d get herself some coffee while the poor old thing booted up, but this morning she just lounged back in the chair and smiled to herself as she thought about the past few days…and nights…with Sam. He was strong and demanding and very, very male. He had done things with her and to her that made her toes curl up. Right now she was feeling wonderfully relaxed and loose and alive. She also felt completely safe with him. On second thought, safe might not be quite the right word. She felt sure that he wasn’t going to go around telling anybody what a totally kinky whore she was. She stifled a very un-boss-like giggle before sobering up. That kind of trust was priceless. Why was she giving it to a man she didn’t really know that well?
She shook her head to clear it. She was in her office now. She should concentrate on business.
The morning’s e-mail had more than the usual share of fantastic, incredible offers, but she really didn’t think she needed any kind of viagra, herbal or otherwise. Sam certainly didn’t seem to need any. Neither was she in the market for any kind of debt consolidation or any subscriptions to anything. She also didn’t think she was the right person to help get forty million dollars transferred from an overseas bank account. She clicked on all of the offending messages and consigned them to the oblivion of virtual trash.
That left five e-mails that might be worth opening. She clicked on the first one.
Her business website, small as it was, did bring in a number of inquiries every day. Most of them, though, were of the I-think-my-spouse-is-cheating-on-me-can-you-help-me-get-proof type. She usually didn’t even bother to respond to them. In her first few months of running her own agency, she’d had to take some jobs like that just to pay the bills. But those kinds of cases left her feeling grimy, even if the suspicions turned out to be correct. If the suspicions turned out not to be correct, which was about half the time, she felt both grimy and slimy. Three of this morning’s e-mails were from suspicious spouses and she deleted them after giving each one a quick scan, just in case. One of the other two messages was from a firm located in the next county asking if she would be interested in doing some consulting work for them on their plant security. That one might be worth replying to. She had a number of consulting contracts. None of them were very big, but in the aggregate they went a long way to paying the bills and meeting the payroll.
The fifth e-mail was from a local newspaper interested in interviewing her for a follow-up article on the Bowman insurance scam. They’d also like to get some pictures of her for the article.
Claudia leaned back in the chair and nibbled at her lower lip. The interview might not be a bad idea. It would be great free publicity for her agency, especially with the case still fresh in people’s minds. Pictures were another matter. She didn’t want her face plastered all over the Sunday edition. There wasn’t anything wrong with the way she looked, but it was possible for any investigator to be a bit too…ah…visible. In any case, she valued her priva
cy too much. Leaning forward, she quickly tapped out a reply to the effect that was agreeable to an interview, but no pictures, please. If they’d go for that, fine. If not…she shrugged and logged out of the office e-mail.
That reminded her, though. She hadn’t heard back from the insurance company about her fee. Shepperton might have been running a scam, but he’d been a legitimate employee of theirs when he’d signed that contract with her. Maybe she should fax them over a copy of it as a reminder. No, on second thought, Amanda should do that. She might be a shy little temp, but she had the same idea as Marabel about letting the boss handle menial work.
Jerry breezed into the office a moment later, apologizing about being late. “I had to get a jump start,” he explained. “I might need one to get home again too.”
“What’s the problem?” Claudia asked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the battery,” Jerry shrugged. “It’s almost as old as the car.”
“Why not just replace it, then?”
“I’m planning to after work,” he replied. “There’s a service center near that little mall, and they’re open until eight. If they can’t do it for me, I can do it myself in their parking lot. All I need is a wrench.” He grinned. “Anyway…what’s on the docket for today, Chief?”
“Not a lot,” Claudia shook her head. “Maybe you could give Amanda a hand with bringing all the files up to date.”
“They’re all up to date, Chief. It’s been pretty quiet the past few days.”
“Oh. Well, then…” Claudia tried to think of something, but she had a sudden mental picture of herself and Sam earlier that morning, writhing and groaning in her bed, his hands on her shoulders…
“Sorry!” She shook her head abruptly. “I lost my train of thought.” She felt her face reddening.
