by Ami Snow
Tristan stopped caning her with the spoon and ran his hand over her red-striped bottom. His erection was immense, pushing itself with great intensity into the soft rolls of her stomach. “I wish you had just listened to me,” he said, softly. “Then we’d never need to do this.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lori said. “I promise I’ll never do it again!”
“Oh, I know you won’t,” Tristan said. “But we’ve still got ten strokes to go.” He lifted the spoon. “That’s just the way these things work.”
“But I can’t!” Lori yelped. “I just can’t take any more!”
“Sure you can,” Tristan said. “We’ll go quickly. Count each stroke for me,” he urged. “It’ll help you not think about it too much.”
“One,” Lori sobbed after his next stroke. “Two, three, four.”
“You’re such a good girl,” Tristan said. “You didn’t mean to break that vase, did you?”
“Nooooo…” Lori said. “Five. Six. It was an accident.”
“And how did that accident happen?”
“Seven!” Lori yiped. “I never should have opened the showcase. You told me not to.”
“That was eight,” Tristan said. “So you knew you weren’t supposed to open the case.” His next stroke was the sharpest one yet. “What went wrong?”
“I didn’t listen.” Lori broke down. She didn’t even try to count the tenth, final stroke. “I should have listened to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen.”
Tristan dropped the spoon. It clattered to the dining room floor. “That’s a good girl.” He gently moved Lori from his lap, guiding her into a standing position. She wasn’t entirely steady on her feet, so Tristan kept one hand on her hip while he looked into her eyes. “Now you understand what you did wrong.”
She nodded, her blue eyes wet with tears. “I do.”
“When I tell you to do something, Lori, I expect you to do it.” Tristan was very hard. She could see his massive erection tenting out the front of his pants. “And when I tell you not to do something, you’re not to do it. No matter what.” He squeezed Lori’s tender ass cheek, sending new waves of pain – and a surprising rush of desire – through her body. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Lori was drowning in Tristan’s gaze. All she wanted to do in that moment was please her Father’s best friend – whatever it took to avoid winding up over his knee again. “I’ll do exactly as I’m told.”
“You’ve learned a valuable lesson today,” Tristan said. He sat back in his chair, and casually ran his hand over his erection. “And now it’s time to thank your teacher.”
Lori’s mind raced. She wasn’t exactly the most experienced girl in the world. The one boyfriend she’d had previously had had an absolutely filthy mind, but not much in the way of follow-through; they’d broken up before they’d gotten much beyond the awkward fumbling stage. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.
Tristan smiled. “Get on your knees.”
Lori sank the floor. The dining room had hardwood flooring; it was cold and smooth beneath her bare knees. Her uniform skirt was distressingly heavy against her burning bottom; every time the fabric shifted, it brushed against some newly-tender spot.
Tristan leaned forward, and slowly unbuttoned the top of Lori’s housekeeping uniform. The uniform had been a snug fit to begin with. Each undone button allowed her barely-confined breasts to break out into the open; they pillowed upward to meet Tristan’s appreciative gaze. He ran his fingertips gently over the porcelain colored mounds, tracing along the thin network of bluish veins that ran just under the surface.
“The next time you forget to listen,” he said, “I’m going to put a nice red set of stripes here.”
Lori shivered at his touch. His fingertips felt like they were made of fire. Everywhere Tristan touched came newly alive, tingling and sensitive. Her nipples were rock hard, aching inside her bra. Tristan saw this, and after loosening the last button, pushed Lori’s uniform off of her shoulders. She was now almost naked before her boss; naked and on her knees.
“I promise I’ll be good,” she said.
“I know you’ll try,” Tristan replied. He gently pinched one of her protruding nipples, squeezing just enough to force a fresh moan from Lori’s lips. “Because you want to please me, don’t you?” His next pinch was just a little harder. “You want to keep your job. You don’t want me telling your Daddy what you’ve done.”
“No,” Lori said, shaking her head. “I mean, yes.” She was so confused, aroused and aching at the same time. Tristan was driving her crazy. Every time he touched her, new sensations were coming alive inside her body. It all felt so good – and yet at the same time, she knew she was in serious trouble. “Please don’t tell Daddy. I do want to please you.” She looked up at Tristan, and saw his eyes fix on her lips. “More than anything.”
“Take your bra off,” Tristan said. “It’s getting in my way.”
Lori nodded. She slipped the thick elastic bra straps off of her shoulders, flipping down the massive unlined cups so she could slide the band around and undo the four rows of hooks. Tristan watched, smiling as she let the undergarment fall to the floor.
“You’ve got magnificent breasts,” he said, cupping Lori’s tits in his hands and crushing them together. “Big, fat and juicy.” He pulled her upward a little bit, drawing her bosom into his lap. “I’d love to fuck those titties.”
Lori pulled back a little bit, startled by Tristan’s crassness as much as anything else that had happened that day. He smiled at her surprise. “Don’t worry, little lady,” he said, and reached for his zipper. “We’re going to start with something a little more conventional.”
Tristan had the biggest cock Lori had ever seen. It was thick and pink and topped with a sloping head that looked nearly as big as Lori’s fist.
“There’s no way,” Lori stammered. She looked up at Tristan. “That’s never going to fit inside me.”
Tristan laughed. “You’re much more capable than you realize.” He slid his hands into her hair, burying his fingers in the ashy-blonde softness. “Just open up and say ah!”
Her bottom was still throbbing. Lori remembered what Tristan had said about putting stripes on her breasts. The thought of what that would feel like terrified her. She let her mouth fall open, leaning forward as Tristan gently pushed her head toward his cock.
Her lips had to really stretch to encircle Tristan’s cockhead. She wasn’t sure what to do with it inside of her mouth, so she tried a tentative lick along the underside. Her father’s best friend groaned, so she figured it was a good move, and did it again. Each flicker of her tongue seemed to excite Tristan more and more; he started steadily sliding his hips forward, pushing more and more of his cock into Lori’s mouth.
It was rapidly becoming more than she could handle. Lori was starting to struggle; it was getting a little hard to breathe, and she couldn’t move her head with Tristan’s hands lodged in her hair. At that point, Tristan pushed forward a fraction of an inch more, and growled, “Suck me.”
Lori tried, hollowing out her cheeks as best she could while Tristan slowly drew his shaft out of her mouth. She had time for a quick gasp of breath before he plunged back into her willing mouth; this time he went so deep that she could feel his cockhead flattening against the back of her throat.
Again, she flailed a little bit. Her voluptuous body shook, causing her loose breasts to wiggle and bounce against her belly. Below, her thick thighs scissor together. Almost unconsciously, her hand had dropped between her legs; having Tristan’s cock filling her throat made Lori need to press her fingers against her pussy.
“God,” Tristan groaned. “You were born for this.” He started drawing his cock out of her mouth; Lori started to suck harder without being told. She was more turned on than she’d ever been in her whole life. Being naked, on her knees, in front of her fully clothed boss, with her ass freshly pink and thoroughly spanked, should have been a humiliating position – but much to h
er surprise, Lori was having fun. She started to rub her pussy faster; Tristan saw this, and introduced his leather shoe between her legs.
“Is that what you want?” Tristan pushed the toe of his shoe up against Lori’s clit just as he pulled hard on her hair, burying himself balls-deep in her throat. “This is going to make you come?”
Lori’s whole body answered him. She was shaking everywhere. Her mouth was too full of Tristan’s cock; the insistent leather pushing against her crotch was rubbing in exactly all the right places. The biggest orgasm of her life was about to hit when Tristan said, “What if I tell you not to?” He slid his cock half an inch backward and brutally pushed forward again. Lori felt a little dizzy; it was getting hard to breathe and she felt like she was going to faint. Tristan rocked his shoe back and forth, grinding against her most tender bits. “You’re not allowed to come, Lori. Don’t do that.”
Lori’s ears heard Tristan’s words, but her pussy wasn’t listening. Her entire body stiffened and she squeezed Tristan’s foot between her ample thighs. At that moment, Tristan’s cock flexed inside her mouth. “I’m going to have to punish you again, aren’t I?” he asked.
Hearing him say that was the last straw. Lori thought she couldn’t open her mouth any wider, but there was just enough space for a moan to sneak out as she came. That pushed Tristan over the edge. He tried drawing his cock out of Lori’s mouth as the moment happened, but most of his load wound up behind her lips, with only a few glistening drops left to decorate her lips and chin.
Lori sat back on her knees, while Tristan leaned back in his chair. They stared at each other for a long moment, each one surprised by the intensity of the moment.
“Is it…” Lori asked, uncertain how to frame the question. “Is it always like that?”
Tristan’s eyes widened, and he put his hand over his mouth while he looked at Lori. She blushed again, thinking she’d been especially stupid when he asked, “That was your first time?”
She looked down and said, “For that, yes.”
He leaned forward and cupped his fingers under Lori’s chin, forcing her to look up. “And did you like it?”
Lori smiled. “I did.” Then her smile faded. “I mean, I know I wasn’t meant to like it. At least probably not that much, anyway.” Her smile returned and she faced Tristan with totally honesty. “But I did. That was pretty awesome.”
Tristan laughed. “You are incredible. I wish I could tell you it was like that all the time. But I have to say, in my experience, that…that was pretty special.”
Lori stood up. Under Tristan’s watchful gaze, she bent and retrieved her bra from the floor. He didn’t say anything while she tucked her massive breasts inside, and remained silent while she buttoned herself back into her housekeeper’s uniform.
“So what happens next?” Lori asked.
“Are you going to ask me for your panties?” Tristan replied.
Lori cocked her head and smiled at her Father’s best friend. “Do you want me wearing panties?”
Tristan’s eyebrow went up. “Not particularly, no.”
“Then I guess I don’t need them,” she said.
Tristan laughed. “I think I need a drink,” he said. “Why don’t you go fetch me a scotch?” He stood up and started walking toward the study. “Then I can tell you about the Macedonians.”
Tristan was standing by the showcase in the study when Lori returned with his drink. He had a thick book of maps open on the table in front of him. “Look here,” he said, pointing at an image of Greece. “In this northern area. That’s where Macedonia was.”
“A very long time ago,” Lori agreed, remembering what Tristan had said about the age of the vase.
“A very, very long time ago,” Tristan said. “What we call Western Civilization – all of our big ideas and philosophies – came from this part of the world.”
“Like the Greek myths,” Lori said.
Tristan looked pleased. “Exactly like the Greek myths.” He moved toward the showcase and slid the door open. “That’s why people collect items from that area and that time.” He extracted a shard and handed it to Lori. “The hands that made that belonged to the civilization that shaped the world. You’re touching something from the very beginning of who we are.”
“I’m so sorry I broke it,” Lori said. “All I wanted to do was get rid of that stupid spider!”
“I know,” Tristan said. “Bad things can happen even when we have the best of intentions.”
“And it’s not like you can just go get another one,” Lori said.
“Well, that may not be true,” Tristan said.
“That thing is over 2,000 years old!” Lori protested. “How in the world would you come up with a replacement?”
“That’s what CNN was here about, actually,” Tristan explained. “Finding Macedonian artifacts is currently a lot easier than it’s supposed to be.” He opened another book, and showed Lori a picture of some golden jewelry. “You see these brooches?”
She nodded.
“This book is a catalog of the Museum of Macedonia. During the war, I’d heard a lot of rumors about Skopje. People who knew things said that if you knew where to look in the marketplace, you’d find pieces for sale that came out of their warehouses.” Tristan nodded toward the showcase. “That’s where I got that vase.” He tapped the catalog page. “And that’s where a colleague was able to purchase this, for less than what you would pay for a car.” Tristan paused. “Well, at least for less than what I would pay for a car.”
“But how?” Lori asked. “How did the vase and the jewelry get from Greece to Iraq?”
“That’s a long story,” Tristan said. “A really long story. But it started out the way all stories like this do. Somebody didn’t listen when they were told not to do something.” His eyes flickered up to meet Lori’s. She blushed. “In this case, a young man was told not to gamble. But he didn’t listen. And then he was told not to borrow money to pay for his gambling. But he didn’t listen to that either. When he couldn’t pay the money back?” Tristan shook his head. “He listened when the loan shark told him what he needed to do to avoid having his legs broken in a dozen places.”
“He stole your vase?” Lori asked. “And the jewelry?”
“No,” Tristan said. “He didn’t have to do that, and as far as I have been able to learn, such a thing would have been beyond his abilities anyway. All he had to do was introduce his cousin, who worked at Skopje, to some of his money lender’s friends. And then he was off the hook.”
“What happened to his cousin?” Lori asked, wide eyed.
“Well, his cousin was a very smart man. He understood right away that he was in a dangerous position. The police in Greece are very…overtaxed. They would not be able to protect him or his family. So when the money lender’s friends told him they wanted a supply of antiquities that could be easily sold on the black market, he provided one.”
“Your vase,” Lori said.
“And hundreds of vases just like it,” Tristan agreed.
“I bet,” Lori said, pursing her lips and furrowing her blonde eyebrows together, “that the gold jewelry brought a lot more money in than the clay pots.” She looked at Tristan, eyes suddenly wide. “Not that your vase wasn’t very nice!”
Tristan laughed, gently. “No, you’re on the right track here. There’s a big difference between gold jewelry and vases.”
Lori nodded. “There are probably lots more vases than jewelry. And people pay a lot more attention to their gold than to their dishes.”
“You’re right,” Tristan said. He looked very pleased. “Artifacts were steadily disappearing from Skopje for a long, long time before anyone noticed. Mainly because the thieves confined themselves to small statues and clay vessels.”
“How long?” Lori demanded.
Tristan shrugged. “I bought that vase in the fall of 1990. The news that Skopje’s director was going to be held responsible for the missing artifacts came in October of 2013.”
Lori counted on her fingers. “That’s 23 years!”
“It is a long time,” Tristan agreed. “In that time, who knows how many pieces have made their way into private collections all around the world?”
“A thousand?” Lori guessed.
“The official number is around 150,” Tristan said, “but I think you’re closer to the mark.”
“So there’s like 800 ancient Macedonian artifacts floating around that nobody knows about,” Lori said. “Officially.”
Tristan nodded. “And there are plenty of people who claim that they’ve got them for sale,” Tristan said. “Unofficially, of course.”
“That’s where you come in,” Lori announced. “Because one old clay pot looks just like another. I could get any old pot and sell it to you, saying it came out of Skopje when it didn’t.” She cocked her head at Tristan. “Some of them have to be fakes.”
“Most of them are,” Tristan said. Then he shook his head. “Well, I shouldn’t say that. I’m not sure a majority of the artifacts out there for sale are fraudulent, but a good chunk of them are.”
“How do you tell them apart?” Lori asked.
“That’s what CNN wanted to know,” Tristan said. “I told them it was really difficult.” He smiled at Lori. “But I could show you. If you’d like to learn, that is.”
“Really?” Lori squealed. She clapped her hands together and bounced on her heels, a motion that made her chest heave in a most fetching manner. Tristan didn’t even pretend not to watch, and this made her smile. “I’d love to know how to do something like that.”
“It’ll take a while,” Tristan warned.
“I’m not planning on going anywhere,” Lori countered. She titled her head and looked at Tristan critically. “Unless you’d like me to clear on out of here.”
“No,” he said, sliding an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze. “It turns out I really like having you around.”
“Even when I don’t listen?” Lori asked.
“Maybe especially when you don’t listen.” Tristan let his hand drop to the hem of Lori’s uniform. Then he slid it upward, underneath the fabric, letting his palm glide over her tender, marked flesh. He squeezed one cheek, gently, smiling when Lori moaned. “I think you might need to get used to having a pink bottom.”
