Choices

by Galia Ryan

  Even before her taxi had pulled up at the kerb, she saw him. His air of confidence demanded attention. Others appeared to notice as well, for passersby gave him a wide berth. Holding open the door of the taxi, he smiled warmly as she slid out of the cab, and to her astonishment her knees buckled, causing her to stumble slightly as her feet touched the pavement.

  “Hi.” She hoped she sounded more composed than she felt at that moment.

  “Hi yourself,” he replied, holding her shoulders and lightly kissing her cheek. It was a gesture that implied they were more than friends but not quite lovers. “My God, you’re gorgeous. Dare I ask if it’s all for my benefit?”

  “But of course.”

  He acknowledged her irony with a smile.

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the men.”

  “I do.”

  She couldn’t deny her attraction to him, but she could ensure he remained unaware of it.

  He held his arm out.

  “Shall we go in?”

  At the coat check he helped remove her jacket, holding her at arm’s length to give her a full onceover. For the briefest moment his eyes glinted dangerously.

  “I’m glad you decided to see me. I wondered if you had the courage.”

  “Really? You think I need courage to see you?”

  “Are you suggesting perhaps you wanted to see me?”

  “I think we both know why we’re here.” Her voice was low and emphatic. “Two words: supply and demand.”

  He leaned forward, and she held her breath.

  “Indeed.” His cheek was against hers and she felt his warmth on her skin. His cologne was heady and intoxicating.

  The few seats that remained empty proved that the production had been a sell-out. As the audience stirred impatiently waiting for the curtain to rise, he asked how she had been and how things were at the bank, as if they were an ordinary couple enjoying a night out. Against her better judgment, she started to relax.

  But the illusion was short lived. Some thirty minutes into the first act, he placed his hand on her leg and slowly moved it up the inside of her thigh.

  Praying that no one would notice in the dark, she parted her legs to afford him better access; after all, she reasoned, it was what she was there for. She hoped that when he discovered it, he would approve of her decision not to wear underwear.

  The sensation of his fingers exploring the fleshy outer lips of her cunt and then pausing on the nub of her clitoris had an immediate effect. She tried hard to control her breathing—after all, it was a public place—but it was not long before she sensed the interest of the neighbour on the other side. A glance from the corner of her eye told her that, sure enough, the man was staring at the hand working under her skirt. As Adam continued to probe she realised he probably had no idea that anyone had noticed what he was doing. Suddenly a finger was pushed firmly inside her, and she gasped. As the heat rose in her face she was convinced she heard the sound of breath being caught.

  Not unexpectedly, the bar was packed during the interval. Thankfully there was no sign of the man from the next seat. Adam passed her a glass of Pinot Gris and she leaned in close.

  “The guy on the other side of me was more than appreciative of what you were doing to me in there,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “You knew?”

  “From the beginning. When we go back in, I want you to lift your skirt high enough to ensure your friend gets a really good look at you.”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to show myself to another man?”

  “That’s right.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t understand, but you are the one paying.”

  “I am.”

  When she returned to her seat, she waited for the lights to dim for the second act and then eased her skirt up as far as she could. Her neighbour would clearly see the pale flesh above her stockings and probably the dark triangle of her pubic hair. He would be delighted, she thought.

  Once again Adam made use of her. She desperately wanted to cum, not only in response to the skill of his fingers but also because of the way she was being displayed. Torn between humiliation and arousal, she had never been more thankful to see the end of a performance. Her relief made her join in the clapping and cheering with unusual enthusiasm.

  As they stood to leave Adam leaned over to address her neighbour.

  “I hope she didn’t disturb you, but when she’s horny she just has to be attended to.”

  There was a sympathetic nod. “She looks the type.”

  Anna was furious with both of them.

  In the taxi she made a point of passing the journey staring out the window. She was wondering at the protocol for ending an evening without sleeping with the client.

  “How much do you charge now? I hear you are quite in demand,” he asked, once they were in his living room. “Well?” he pressed.

  “Three thousand dollars.”

  She had never been paid anything like that amount.

  “Three thousand dollars? And are you worth it? After all, you were fresh when I had you before and that carries a premium. Now, as far as I am concerned, you are well used.”

  The cruelty of the words stung, but she thrust her shoulders back in defiance.

  “I think I am. After all, thanks to men like you I know far better how to please than I did back then.”

  Adam took a roll of banknotes from his pocket, peeled off the bills and dropped them on the floor.

  “Your point is valid. Why don’t you pick them up?”

  “No.”

  “Are you refusing me?”

  “I am.”

  “Come here.”

  Before she could protest, Adam had put his arms around her. The touch of his lips was gentle.

  “Oh, Anna.”

  It took but a moment to register that he had used her name.

  “My name is Chloe.”

  “Your working name is Chloe. Your real name is Anna. Did you really think I wouldn’t know?”

  “I think I should leave.” A mix of fear and anger bolstered her nerves.

  “Perhaps you should. But if you do, you will never know, will you?”

  “Know what?”

  “Whether you would have enjoyed it even more than last time.”

  She felt helpless.

  “The choice is yours.” He released her and gestured to the door. “Don’t worry; the taxi is still outside. I paid him to stay all night.”

  Anna hesitated. She had no idea what she really wanted. All she knew was that leaving would protect her dignity.

  “If I stay?”

  “I will use you exactly as I did before.”

  They were locked in a void. His eyes held hers, daring her to look away.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  For what seemed like an eternity she fought his will. Then she untied her blouse.

  “Leave your stockings and shoes on.”

  Anna hung her head, knowing she would feel more exposed with just those on than she would have done completely naked.

  He crossed over to a chair and made himself comfortable.

  “Get me a whisky.” The order was given in an even tone.

  She had no idea where to look for the bottle but vaguely recalled him opening the cabinet behind her when she was last in the room. She hoped her memory hadn’t failed her.

  It had not. Relieved, she crouched down in front of the open doors to examine the bottles.

  “Stand up.”

  The tone of his voice alerted her to a wrongdoing.

  “Let’s try that again. Turn back, open your legs a little and bend from the waist.”

  The blood rushed to her cheeks as she realised he was positioning her so that her cunt was totally exposed to his gaze.

  “Make it the Talisker.”

  More than a little self-conscious, she skimmed over the different spirits, trying to identify the label before spotting it slightly to the left of the others.r />
  “You will find a glass in the cabinet above.”

  The tumbler was heavy—lead crystal, she guessed. She poured a small amount, hoping she was judging his requirement correctly. And ice? Would he want ice? She turned to face him, wondering the correct etiquette for asking the question.

  “Do you prefer your whisky with ice?”

  He smiled. “Still fighting me, Anna?”

  She understood what he was referring to, but she would not call him Master, not ever again.

  “No ice. It would be a sacrilege,” he said.

  She brought the glass to him, expecting him to take it from her, but he raised his eyebrows quizzically.

  “You do have a lot to learn about service,” he said. “The drink should be placed conveniently on the nearest table.”

  She pursed her lips and carefully put the glass down on the coffee table.

  “Thank you. Now Anna, why don’t you sit over there, open your legs wide and play with yourself for me?”

  She was mortified, even more so after she complied, sitting where he had instructed and spreading her legs. She had done it before, she told herself calmly, what was the harm? In fact, she had lost track of the number of times she had played with herself in front of clients as a technique to get them fully aroused. Knowing what had always worked in the past, she placed a finger in her mouth and sucked it. Then, holding her cunt lips open with the other hand, she slipped it glistening with saliva between them.

  “A tad staged, but nothing that can’t be worked on,” he said.

  She stopped and looked at him. He was completely unfazed.

  “Bend over the arm of that chair.” He stood and was undoing the belt on his trousers.

  At Anna’s quick intake of breath, he looked up. Anna’s eyes were wide with fright.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he explained patiently. “And just as before the pleasure is going to be all mine. Is that clear?”

  “Yes.” She moved over to where he waited and positioned herself as required.

  Suddenly she felt his fingers on her clit. It was so wonderful; he seemed to know exactly what she needed, gently stroking and teasing the bud until it was completely swollen. His fingers skirted the entrance to her hole but made no move to enter her. Soon she was panting and groaning her need and lifting her backside invitingly.

  “Anna, you’re beautiful when you’re horny.”

  “Yes, Master,” she breathed. She was on fire and could think of nothing other than the prospect of having his cock inside her.

  She was so wet that he drove into her with little effort. As before he didn’t bother with a condom, and again, she did not offer any objection. Why shouldn’t he fuck her without any form of protection? He was her Master, and if that’s what he wanted then she wanted it that way, too. Loving that he was stretching and filling her, she lifted herself to allow her tits to jerk in time to his thrusting. There was no refinement in his technique; he had grabbed her hips and was fucking her aggressively, with no care for her pleasure. She wanted to bear down on his cock and cum, but she knew it was forbidden. Keeping herself in check wasn’t easy. Her orgasm was building and she would soon have no choice but to plead with him.

  “I’m going to cum,” she moaned.

  “Really? I don’t think so.” He powered hard into her and she cried out.

  “Please,” she begged, “I really can’t stand it.”

  “That makes it even better.” He leaned over her and cupped her breasts, his fingers finding her aching nipples.

  “Please, please, please,” she repeated over and over.

  “Why are you here?” he murmured against her skin.

  “To please you.”

  “Then do so.”

  “Show me how, Master. Teach me how to think only of your pleasure.”

  “Good girl,” he grunted before thrusting violently into her to release his seed.

  They were both exhausted, but while she had been denied any release, Adam had cum twice, on the second occasion using her mouth to finish when it became obvious that she was far too close to losing control for him to continue fucking her cunt. She had been crying with frustration and begging him to use her in another way, so he had demanded she get down on her knees. He had fucked her mouth and throat ruthlessly, and it was not long before he came.

  “Swallow it. Every bit.”

  Even had he not made the demand, she would have willingly done so.

  “Now thank me.”

  “Thank you, Master, for giving me your cum.”

  She could still taste the saltiness in her mouth.

  “I’m going to have a shower. You will dress and wait here.”

  Gingerly Anna replaced her clothes, wincing when they touched on areas still at the peak of sensitivity. The mirror on the far wall told her she looked a mess, and while knowing there was little she could do about the creases in her skirt and top, she took a brush from her bag and tried to repair the damage to her hair. She also reapplied lipstick and while it helped, she envied Adam the cleansing effects of a hot shower. She looked like a common hooker, which was exactly how she felt. Why had she let him use her again? Hadn’t she been humiliated enough the first time? Obviously not, considering how eager she had been to serve him again.

  When he returned, Adam was freshly dressed and completely at ease.

  “Can I get you anything? Champagne? Coffee? Something to eat?” His smile was warm.

  “No thank you.”

  “Do you mind if I have a cognac?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Anna, I’m going to be out of the country on business for a while but when I come back I would like to see you again. Would that be okay with you?”

  To her embarrassment, a tear slowly trickled down her cheek. He took her in his arms and stroked her hair.

  “It’s all right,” he murmured. “I understand. You will get through this and then everything will be clear.”

  How could it? she thought.

  Chapter 14.

  Around midday her intercom buzzed and a voice announced she had a delivery. She wasn’t expecting anything and asked how big the parcel was.

  “Not big,” she was told.

  “Not an envelope then?”

  “No,” came the reply.

  Even though she had caught up with her bills and was certain she hadn’t missed anything, final reminders were often sent by hand, requiring a signature as proof of delivery. Relieved, she pressed the button to release the security doors and ran her fingers through her hair. She had slept late and couldn’t be bothered to throw on clothes; pyjamas and dressing gown would have to do.

  The deliveryman blatantly looked her up and down when she opened the door. She could see he was wondering if he might be in with a chance. It was written all over his face, along with the acne and five days growth.

  Anna was curt, signing his docket and receiving her package in silence. The moment she closed the door she tore off the wrapping.

  Inside, beautifully tied with ribbon, was a jeweller’s box. She took it into the living room and sat down, wondering who could have sent it. Perhaps it was a mistake and had been meant for somebody else. She carefully opened the box. Lying on a maroon cushion was a gold bracelet threaded with two gold beads.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, recognising the brand name stamped on the clasp. She rummaged through the packaging, looking for a clue as to who had sent it, and found the gift card.

  “Obedience has its own rewards.”

  The words sent her into an immediate rage. Did he really think she wanted to be reminded? He had a nerve.

  And why did he have to choose something so gorgeous?

  Suddenly she realised that in order to have the package delivered he must know her address. But that was impossible. Unless ... She grabbed her phone.

  “Elite Escorts.”

  “Maddie, Anna.”

  “Hi. What’s up?”

  “Maddie, you wouldn’t give out my addre
ss, would you?”

  “Not unless you wanted me to. Why?”

  “Someone sent me a gift. It arrived by courier.”

  Anna heard Maddie laugh.

  “From a jeweller? That was me. Well, not me, exactly. You remember your client from two days ago, Adam?”

  “Yes.”

  “He called this morning and asked me to arrange a delivery for him.”

  “Oh.”

  “So what did he buy you?” Maddie asked.

  “Nothing special.”

  Anna was worried about her response to Adam’s dominance. Could it be that it was in her nature to be submissive to all men? But as the days passed and she saw other clients, she knew this was not the case. No one else seemed to have the ability to tap into that side of her. Hearing no more from Adam, she gratefully merged back into Chloe.

  * * *

  Martin was in Real Estate. In the current market that did not mean a great deal; residential listings were hard to come by and buyers were thin in the ground. The glory days between the late 1990’s and the mid 2000’s were a memory, as was his late model Mercedes and his treasured Corvette. Even his Harley had been sold. It was either that or give up any remaining quality of life—something his wife had no intention of allowing.

  One of the stalwarts at the realtor, Martin persevered even after his younger colleagues moved on to more lucrative fields. Or so they told him. Personally he didn’t think there were any sales jobs that paid like they used to. It was a sign of the times.

  He’d had the five-apartment listing for over four months. Not an unusual story; the vendor had bought the properties thinking the rental income would see him well into retirement and then fund a cruise or two each year until he was too old to enjoy such frivolities. After the company he worked for downsized and he was offered early retirement, he found that the package wasn’t enough for a day trip around the harbour, let alone two weeks on a luxury liner, and so he had decided to sell his investments and bank the equity.