Chief

by Lesli Richardson

  “Who?” he asks. I lift an eyebrow and he groans. “Fuck me. Does she have proof?”

  “No. I had it done there under a fake name and paid cash.”

  He grumbles, unhappy, but knows there’s nothing left to play on that particular line. “So was it IVF? Do I have to hunt down a doctor’s office to pay off people to delete records? Or did it happen the old-fashioned way?”

  I meet his gaze head-on. “Like you said, my boy doesn’t do anything without me telling him to.” I let that rest for a beat. “Neither does my girl.” Hopefully that shuts him down.

  His eyebrows lift. “Ah.” He slowly nods. “That explains a lot. So it’s that way, then?”

  “Yep. Is that a problem? Because it seems like I’ve proven myself and my love for both of them over the years.”

  “Nope. Just been wanting to know.” He levels a finger at me as a smile creases his face. “You’re good, though. Damn good. I give you every bit of credit for that. Not so much as a squeak from anyone in the capitol. You run a tight ship.”

  “Of course I do.” I pick at a crease on my slacks, tug it back into place.

  “Until now.”

  Rage I haven’t felt in years is simmering over this hiccup. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Awfully careless of you.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be. I can assure you, there isn’t anything else like this out there, either.”

  “Except you three. And now two boys to protect, as well.”

  “We’re a team. We’re going to get her elected.”

  “You can’t guarantee that.”

  “Can’t I?” I tip my head as I study him. “Unless you’re going to suddenly decide not to back her. You and I both know you can sway the entire party to vote for her.”

  “I’m not in office any longer.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Benchley. You literally know where all the bodies are buried. How many ratfucks do you have waiting in the wings to drop on people who don’t follow your ‘suggestions’ to support her and Owen?”

  His gaze narrows as he slowly nods. “You might not be wrong about that.”

  “Then let’s work together. We both want her elected governor. Hate me or love me, I honestly don’t give a fuck how you feel about me. All I care about is her happiness, and Owen’s, and that includes our boys.”

  “We are working together,” he says. “That’s why I’m giving you a chance to cover up your shit instead of hiring someone else to do it and ratfucking you.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Benchley. You want me to cover up my own shit so you don’t have one more loose end hanging around out there that might come back to bite you.”

  He wears an evil smirk as he sits back in his chair. “Who says you can’t read minds, Carter?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Then

  I follow my latex-clad wet-dream come true as she winds her way through the diaphanous maze. We arrive at a door on the periphery of the space, probably across the huge room from where the stairs to the first floor are located.

  There’s a man sitting on a stool here, and he looks at our wristbands before opening the door for us and allowing us to pass. I realize there are stairs inside, and I gulp what’s left of my soda and drop the cup in the garbage can next to the door before plunging into this stairwell after her.

  I follow her up the dimly lit stairs, unable to stop myself from looking up her skirt as we go, but it’s too dark for me to see if she’s wearing panties or not.

  My cock is still rock-hard, aching, probably leaving a wet spot in my briefs.

  I’ll be damn lucky if I don’t come before we finish climbing these stairs.

  Her steps are smooth, measured, confident, her long legs trim and gorgeous, her posture perfect.

  Everything about this woman is like something out of one of my darkest fantasies come to life.

  It feels like she knows that, too.

  The suitcase is heavier than it looks, and I carry it with both hands, using the top and side handles and praying the damn thing doesn’t bust on me and embarrass the hell out of me, or make her mad at me. Behind us, the music from the second floor fades as we approach another door and she opens it, not waiting for me and forcing me to turn and catch it with my side and shoulder or risk it crashing into my face.

  This space is still large, but the ceiling is lower than the floors below, maybe ten feet instead of the more cavernous warehouse feel. The lighting is much dimmer, in shades of red and purple, from small lamps on the floor in various places and pointing up at the ceiling, which is painted black.

  This space is less populated, but I expected that, too. I had to pay a much more expensive cover charge to get this wristband. Apparently, certain Dominatrixes and Doms are allowed access and get a cut of that extra fee. They draw in more customers for the nightclub.

  There are no vertical dividers or curtains in this space, but there are couches, mattresses, spanking benches, and more crosses. Short pieces of iron bar hang from chains in various places, and when I spot a woman whose wrists are attached to one, I realize what they’re for.

  The man with her holds a riding crop and is standing in front of her, fucking her as he smacks her ass and backs of her legs with the crop.

  I somehow manage not to trip as I follow the woman across the space. There’s a man in a latex hood strapped down to a bench and getting fucked by a Dominatrix wearing a strap-on. I try not to slow down too much as we pass that scene, but I can’t help watching. When the unnamed woman I’m following glances over her shoulder at me, I suspect her path was deliberate to gauge my response.

  Yeah, I’m desperately horny now.

  Another woman is bent over one end of a couch and being brutally fucked at both ends by two men wearing masks that cover only their eyes. From the welts on her ass, I’d say she’s already had a beating.

  All that, and more, I try to take in as I catch up to the woman and realize we’re stopping by a bench similar to the one the man being fucked by the strap-on is restrained to.

  She smiles at me and points to the floor. I set the case down and drop to my knees.

  The laughter…

  I’d kill to keep her laughing like that.

  She reaches out and ruffles my hair. “You’re adorable,” she says in German. “I meant for you to put my case down, but you seem to know what you are.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Elsa.” She holds her hand out to me and I take it and kiss the back of it. I’m not sure if that’s what she wants, but it feels right, so I’m going with it.

  “Carter,” I say.

  “You will address me as Mistress or Ma’am.” Those two words she says in English, but the rest is German.

  I nod. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Here are my rules, Carter. You do what I say, when I say it. You be a good boy and amuse me, and I might give you more. When do you have to be back?”

  “Sunday night.”

  “Excellent. Depending on what happens between now and then, I might give you a phone number. Do you have a disposable phone?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  She tips her head. “You are prepared. Why?”

  “I…I need secrecy. Job, family.”

  “So do I. If I decide to give you my number, I will give you specific rules on when you can call me. If I call you, I expect either you answer or text me a response. I will give you safe codes to use to mean certain things. If you have to leave the area, you will let me know, and then notify me when you return. Are those rules you can abide by? If not, we can still play, but it will only be here.”

  I eagerly nod. “Yes, Mistress.”

  She points a finger at me and circles it. “Strip. All the way. Except for the collar. Leave that on.”

  I’m…trembling I’m so fucking nervous. I didn’t even feel this goddamned nervous the first time I had to jump out of a fucking plane. But my cock remains hard even once I’m naked before her.

  She nods and h
as me spin around so she can see my entire body. “You can have marks on your ass?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Those I can hide. I share a bathroom with seven other guys, but we have shower curtains.

  “Have you ever been with a woman before?”

  “I’m not a virgin, but I’ve never done…this before. I’ve wanted to for a long time, though.” I’m so nervous I can barely remember how to speak German. I’m stumbling over words, my pronunciation sloppy.

  She snaps her fingers and points at the floor, and my knees automatically unhinge.

  “Hands behind your head, fingers together.” She puts me in the position she wants me, my knees obscenely wide, back straight. “This is Ready. When I tell you Ready, I want you in this position. Understand?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  I don’t understand the evil smile on her face, at first. She steps in close and runs the top of her right shoe along the underside of my cock, getting pre-cum on it.

  “Tsk. Someone is very eager tonight.” She taps her foot. “Lick that off and make it shine again.”

  I’m head-down before the sound of her words die in the air. She laughs as she reaches down and shoves on the back of my head. “This is Worship. Head to the floor, or licking your filth off my shoes, whatever I tell you. When I order you into Worship, I want your head down, back round, and that gorgeous little ass of yours nice and exposed. And to stay there until I order you otherwise.”

  My tongue has licked up the pre-cum from her shoe and I’m desperately wiping at it now with my hand. I snag one of my socks from my pile of clothes and start polishing the patent leather, finally relieved when it shines again.

  She pulls her foot away and examines my handiwork while I remain in position.

  “Excellent.” My cock throbs as I process her praise.

  I hear her open the bag and rummage around in it. Then she walks around behind me and I flinch when something taps my ass. “Hold still.”

  I bite back a cry as pain slams into my left asscheek, then the right, one impact each. When she circles around me again, I see her holding a riding crop.

  “Well, you seem to have decent tolerance. Ready.”

  It takes me a second to process that’s the order for that kneeling position, so I’m slow to rise. She circles behind me and two more impacts strafe my ass.

  “Pay attention. When I order you into a position, I want no hesitation. Worship.”

  I drop down again. We do this for several repetitions, the riding crop striking my ass when I move too slow for her liking. I’m back in Ready when she nods. “Better.” She looks around and calls someone over. A man in a latex body suit runs over and drops to his knees in front of her. He’s sitting up on his knees, but in a more relaxed position than I’m in for Ready.

  “This,” she says to me as she points at him and the position he’s in, “is Release.” She taps the top of my head with the riding crop. “You, Release.”

  I move into it and she nods. “Good.” She taps the other man. “Allegiance.” He spreads his knees, his left hand on his thigh, his right flat on the floor, back rounded and head bowed but not on the floor like Worship.

  She taps me on the head. “Allegiance.” I assume the position and she nods, then dismisses the other man.

  We spend the next several minutes going through those four positions.

  Then she taps me on the head. “On the bench. Facedown.”

  With more than a little fear, I comply. She quickly binds me to it with straps already attached to the table. Then she walks around to my head and grabs my chin, making me look her in the eyes.

  She’s smiling. “I like your cock, boy. You were gifted. When we finish here, if you please me, I’ll let you worship my pussy. If you please me with that, I might consider rewarding you by letting you fuck me. But that will mean you pay me by coming home with me tonight and serving me first. Deal?”

  My throat is so dry, between passion and fear and eagerness to do whatever I have to do to please her that all I can do is nod and barely whisper, “Yes, Mistress.”

  Her thumb strokes my cheek as she smiles. “Excellent. I’ve been looking for a new boy. Depending on how well you do this weekend, I might make you my new pet. Would you like that?”

  I nod again. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Excellent.” She buckles a ball gag into my mouth and walks behind me, where I can’t see her. “Let’s begin.”

  * * * *

  I can look back on the nineteen-year-old boy and see how fucking dangerously innocent I was. Unlike Susa, I really didn’t know who or what I was.

  I’m simply eager to please, which is why I think I connected so hard and fast with Owen. One of the reasons, anyway.

  I’m not given a safeword, or options. I’m guess I’m lucky I don’t wake up in a hotel room tub full of ice and missing a kidney or something.

  After she beats me to screaming tears, she softly, gently soothes me by rubbing my head and telling me how good I am. Then she unfastens me, attaches a leash to my collar, and leads me, naked, over to a couch where she rides my face until she’s satisfied.

  No, she isn’t wearing panties.

  She also shaves her pussy, which, to me, is an amazing discovery.

  It wasn’t even midnight when she leads me outside and to her car, which sits parked a block away. I am…

  Gone. In a sweet, deep haze that feels better than any buzz I’ve ever had from drinking, that’s for sure.

  We head back toward the base, and a tendril of fear races through me until she speaks again. “I have a flat. I work on base.” She smiles. “You and I both need secrecy. I think we will get along just fine.”

  She lives on the third floor in a converted warehouse building. Her loft is spotless, exquisitely decorated. It looks like something out of a movie, and perfectly her. Based on the building and the loft’s size, I know it’s fucking expensive. She must be making good money.

  I carry her bag for her and put it in her bedroom, which is walled off from the rest of the space and has a folding door for privacy.

  “Strip. When you are in my home, unless I’ve specifically told you otherwise, you will always strip.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” I quickly obey. My cock has remained mostly hard through all of this.

  She snaps her fingers and points at the floor. “Allegiance.”

  I immediately drop into the pose despite my knees protesting.

  I hear her walking around, humming to herself, sounds like she’s getting undressed. She puts on music. When she finally returns to me, I feel her snap a leash to my collar and she tugs. “Up.”

  I follow, and she leads me over to the bed. “Hands and knees.” There are some things on the bed, but before I can look and see, she blindfolds me.

  I hear the snap of a glove. It feels like she sits on the leash, because now I’m pinned and can’t move. “Because I know you will be able to come again quickly, I am going to milk the first one from you. Expect I will do this a lot. Do not move while I do this, in any way. If you resist me, we are done. I expect complete obedience from my boy. Understand?”

  I swallow hard. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Good boy,” she coos.

  I jump a little when her lube-covered finger presses against my asshole, but I force myself to remain in place. Her other hand closes around my cock, but she doesn’t stroke me, she just holds it. It’s taking everything I have not to fuck her hand, but she told me not to move.

  I’m struggling to process the sensations as her finger in my ass seeks something, finally finding it. The hand holding my cock tightens even more as she begins rubbing my prostate.

  Clenching my fists helps me hold still—barely. I gasp from the sensation, never having felt anything quite like this before. There’s the humiliation of having her hand up my ass—my face feels like it’s as hot as my beaten ass—the pleasure of her hand around my cock, and the strange feeling of what she’s doing inside me.

  I cry out when the o
rgasm hits, but it feels weird, not as satisfying in some ways, but it lasts longer, feels…deeper, somehow.

  “Good boy,” she coos again, sounding pleased. Another conflicting emotion to process later. I’m gasping, trembling when she finally releases me and her hands disappear. I stay in position as she leaves the bed and I hear the sound of water running.

  She returns and sits at the head of the bed, catching my leash and tugging. She’s fucking gorgeous all naked, her hair still braided but a flat stomach and perky, full breasts.

  I know what she wants and automatically go for her pussy while she holds the leash close and tight to keep me where she wants me. Her other hand rests on my head, massaging, sometimes fisting my hair, as she talks me through it and improves my technique.

  Once I’ve gotten her over again, she sighs. “Excellent.” She hands me a condom. I was so focused on her I didn’t even realize that, yes, I’m hard again. “You will fuck me until I come. Only then may you come. If you come before I do, you will not like the consequences.”

  Needless to say, I’m a good boy and manage to leave her sated, a smile on her face before I’m allowed to finish.

  Then, keeping the leash on me, she allows me to curl up in bed with her, where we both fall asleep. At the time, I’m thinking I’ve finally found Heaven.

  If I’d known that night what future hell lay in store for me, I definitely wouldn’t have slept as well as I did.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Now

  I’m no longer the naive nineteen-year-old.

  I’m a father, a husband.

  A lover.

  A combat-hardened veteran.

  Except right now, as I sit back in my first-class seat and await our final approach over German airspace, I’m none of those things.

  Right now, even though I’m not here on official business, I’m still Carter Edward Wilson, chief of staff to the governor of the great state of Florida.

  And one very pissed-off man. Especially since I didn’t even have time to return to Tallahassee to see my family before making this journey by flying out of Tampa. At least Susa and the boys have Owen while I’m gone.