Power Plays

by Ily Goyanes

  “Well, I’m Trick,” I joked back. She laughed. It was a good laugh, healthy but not too strong, and real, not phony.

  All of a sudden, I saw the hotel looming large. Holy crap! The Biltmore? It cost a few hundred bottle caps a night just to rent a closet at that hotel! I had always wanted to stay there, but not looking like a hooker for Christ’s sake!

  She stopped the car on the street before going up the long driveway. “Reach into the backseat; there is a trench coat you can put on over your clothes. It’s been raining, so you won’t look out of place.”

  This dame really thought of everything, just like a good domme would. I reached into the backseat and pulled on a trench coat that, if the designer were any indication, would cost me about a month’s salary. Now, I know we had been followed; that was protocol. The other members of the sting were supposed to ensure my safety. The thing is, I knew that they couldn’t get to us once we were in the hotel. A hotel like this wouldn’t voluntarily divulge a guest’s room number, and my fellow officers wouldn’t be able to get a warrant to make the hotel do so. After all, the lady had not committed a crime. At least not yet.

  We pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. She told the valet to get her luggage and he removed two suitcases from her trunk. If the trench coat would have cost me a month’s pay, her luggage would surely have cost me two.

  A bellhop loaded Jane’s luggage onto a cart and waited while we checked in. The hotel staff either recognized her or got paid a lot of money to act like it did, because each one of them bent over backward to please her. Then again, she seemed to bring that out in people. I know I was definitely thinking about bending over.

  After she checked us in, we got into the elevator with the bellhop. She managed to position me in the rear of the elevator without me even realizing it. As we rode the elevator, she bent over slightly, pulled up her dress, and adjusted the strap of her garter belt. I didn’t miss that scene and neither did the bellhop. We both kept staring at her the entire elevator ride, and I don’t think either one of us was thinking about baseball.

  The elevator stopped finally. I was wet from the rain and from all the images swimming around in my head. The funny thing was that I could also imagine my brothers in arms, trying to get information out of the front desk staff. If I didn’t have something better to do, I would have loved to watch that exercise in futility.

  All three of us walked into the suite. This place was even fancier than I had imagined. It was huge! There was a living room area, a bar, and a balcony with a panoramic view. There were also a couple of rooms set off from the main area. I’m not into interior decorating, so my description of the suite probably wouldn’t help, but a 12th grade vocabulary word popped into my mind: Opulence. It’s amazing what the old noodle can recall when it’s inspired. The suite had gold and red everywhere; it looked like a palace. I must have been gawking like an idiot, because I heard the door close and turned around to find that I was finally alone with this magnificent creature. Even though I deal with the worst element of society on a daily basis, I felt scared for a moment.

  “Excuse me while I go to the bathroom.”

  “Young ladies do not excuse themselves of their own accord. They ask for permission.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. May I please be excused? I need to use the bathroom.”

  She looked me up and down, taking her sweet time. “In a moment, you may.” She grabbed me by the back of my neck and led me to the suitcases. “Open the one on the right.”

  I did as she asked. The suitcase had an assortment of lingerie in different colors and bottles of lotion. She grabbed one of the bottles of lotion, opened it, sniffed it, then held it under my nose. “Do you like this scent? I think it becomes you.”

  The lotion smelled delicious, like a cross between lavender and fresh peaches. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She then pulled out a burgundy-colored teddy, held it against me, looked at my face, and then down at the teddy. She thrust the teddy and the bottle of lotion into my hands. “Take these into the bathroom with you. Take a bath and put both of them on before you come out.”

  I started walking towards a door that I thought would lead to the bathroom. “Trick.” I heard that pretty laugh again. “Yes, ma’am?” I answered.

  “Take your time. I’m sure you are still wet and uncomfortable from being forced to stand out in the rain. There is no hurry. You are mine all evening, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I appreciated her generosity, but I was in no mood for a leisurely bath. I wanted to kiss her plump wet mouth and hold her large breasts in my hands. I had literally risked my career to be with this amazing woman and I wasn’t going to waste any time.

  As soon as I got into the bathroom, I removed the wire that had been taped to my chest hours ago and drowned it in the sink, making sure it could never be resuscitated. I drew a bath and threw some complimentary bath crystals in it. Why not? I soaped up quickly, making sure to clean all my parts extremely well, rubbed the lotion into my skin after drying myself off, and then threw the teddy on.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. Although I was somewhat of a tomboy, I did clean up well. I had always kept my hair long; it just made life easier, but I was lean, to the point of looking athletic, which gave my appearance a bit of an edge. I don’t know what the teddy was made of, but it felt really smooth on my lotion-soft skin.

  When I stepped out of the bathroom, Jane was standing on the balcony in a black corset and black panties with a matching garter belt and stockings, sipping a glass of champagne. “Pour yourself a glass of champagne and come here.”

  I wasn’t a champagne kind of girl, more beer and scotch really, but I did as she asked. Something made me want to. I joined her on the balcony, slightly shy in my teddy now that I had an audience.

  She turned to me. “You look radiant.” She motioned her glass towards mine and we clinked glasses.

  “Luminous, really. You should step outside your safety zone more often.”

  I became even shyer at her description of me. I wasn’t any of those things. I was a 32-year-old, female vice cop, but it was sweet of her to say. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  After we finished our champagne she tossed our champagne glasses over the balcony, placed my hands on the railing and stood directly behind me. I looked out at the vast space behind the hotel. I could make out an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a golf course and darkness. Then I felt her hands. She had started caressing my shoulders and was languidly trailing her hands across my neck, back, arms, and ass. I was on fire for her and I wondered if she could feel the heat that was burning so hot inside me.

  She moved my hair to the side and started kissing my neck while she firmly kneaded my ass. I was glad that she had placed both my hands on the railing, because without support, I might have made a fool of myself.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked. Her voice had changed. It was huskier and less authoritative, as if she had been drinking scotch.

  “Yes. Thank you.” It was an effort to get the words out. She reached around and cupped my two breasts. I could feel her palms and fingers through the thin fabric of the teddy and I was sure she could feel my nipples harden at her touch.

  “I’m glad. You deserve a night off from work.” I heard her laugh again, but like her voice, her laugh had also changed. It was lower and breathy, more like a deep chuckle than the sweet, tinkling laugh I heard earlier.

  My body was pressed against the balcony railing and she was pressed against me. Jane started rubbing my erect nipples through the fabric while kissing my back, shoulders and neck gently. She kissed me with her mouth open and I could feel her warm tongue on my skin. My breathing was fast, and I started to moan.

  “Do you want me?” she asked.

  “Oh, God, yes.” I answered. “So much, ma’am.”

  She pushed my legs open with one of hers and started rubbing the top of her thigh against my cunt. My hands tightened on the rail for support and I almost came. “Not yet,
darling; only when I allow you to.” Jane had complete control over me and she knew it.

  Her words almost made me come again, but I held it in for her, to please her as she was pleasing me.

  One of her hands made its way from my breast to the back of my neck and she pushed my head forward until I was bent over the railing almost completely. Her other hand trailed off my breast and down my back before stopping between my legs.

  “Do you want this?” Jane whispered. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  I could barely stand; much less speak at that moment. I had never been with someone so glamorous, so exciting… she was all that I had ever wanted but had never been able to find at any of those girl bars. She was my fantasy come true: A powerful, decisive woman who could turn a tough vice cop into a submissive little girl.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I used all my strength to give her the answer I knew she wanted. I felt her fingers push inside me and I used all my will power not to come without her approval. It felt incredible to be penetrated by her, to know that this stunning woman, dolled up from head to toe in expensive black lingerie, wanted to fuck me, a simple public servant. I pushed back onto her hand, wanting her completely inside me, needing to be filled by her perfectly manicured fingers.

  She released my neck only to grab a fistful of my hair. She was holding me in place and pounding her fingers in and out of my pussy, fast and hard. I could feel my cunt soaked and dripping, knew that soon I would not be able to hold off the orgasms that were threatening to come, with or without permission.

  “Please…”

  “Please what?”

  “Please…please…”

  “You know what you must say. I will not allow you release until you ask correctly.”

  “Oh God…please ma’am….please let me cum.”

  “That sounds like a request, not a question.”

  My pussy ached from the amazing cunt-fuck she was giving me. I was dripping all over her hand and my thighs. I wanted to come so badly, why was she torturing me like this?

  “Proper young ladies ask for permission from their mistress. They do not make requests,” she reminded me.

  Thank you, God. Perhaps she had taken pity on me. “Ma’am, may I please come?”

  “You may.”

  The multiple orgasms rocked my body so hard it was a surprise I didn’t knock us both to the floor. She kept her fingers deep inside me the entire time I was coming, which made me come even harder. I continued to hold on to the railing as orgasm after orgasm ripped through me, causing me to shake violently against her, but she held on the entire time, without removing her fingers from inside my cunt.

  Once I had stopped shaking, she led me to the king size bed. The sheets were soft, yet crisp at the same time, the pillows like giant marshmallows. She poured herself more champagne and held it up to my lips so I could drink. We were both lying on the enormous bed, Jane in her black lingerie, and me in the wine-colored teddy. My body was starting to recover from the incredible fucking she had given me. I turned to her and asked if I could kiss her, but instead she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to her. We started kissing as violently as she had just fucked me and my clit immediately reignited. After a few minutes, she pulled her face away from mine. “Remove my panties and service me.”

  She didn’t have to order me to eat her cunt, since it was the only image running through my head at that moment. I moved down her neck and her corset, kissing my way down her body. I must have removed her panties too fast, because she told me to slow down. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  Once I was in position and staring at her striking pink cunt, I pressed my face against it and inhaled. Her pussy smelled sweet and she was as wet as I was, her juices pouring from between her legs and over my face. I licked around the outside of her cunt, at the fold between thigh and crotch, and she whimpered. I kissed and nibbled her inner thighs, near her cunt, hearing her moan and feeling her shiver. I was enjoying this just as much as the fucking she had given me, and I hadn’t even gotten started on the entrée yet.

  She grabbed a hold of my hair again and guided my face towards her pussy. “Eat my pussy. Now.”

  I started licking and sucking her labia and clit like I was getting paid for it. Well, technically, I was. As I licked her pussy and she became more and more wet, I began to feel the waves of an orgasm making their way through my body. Her thighs tightened on my head and her body began to lift from the bed. I clamped my arms around her legs to hold her down and began furiously sucking her clit, then gently biting it, circling it with my tongue slowly then flicking my tongue at it rapidly. She was moaning so loudly and shaking so much that I knew I was giving her what she deserved. If only I could receive a commendation for this! I slowed down to make her wait for it, but she gripped my head in both hands and ordered me to continue. She started rocking her hips back and forth as if she were fucking my face and then erupted into a skull-rocking orgasm that almost threw me off the bed. After she had finished coming, she pulled me up to her and started kissing me gently, licking and sucking my lips and tongue slowly, tasting herself, and continued to tremble against me.

  “That was very good, Detective.”

  I froze for a minute. What? Did I hear her correctly or was my brain so fucked (literally) that I was hearing things? Then she chuckled and spoke again.

  “You must be very good at what you do. You figured out exactly how to service me without being given any clues.” Was she from Internal Affairs? Was I going to get fired? Screw it. It had been worth it.

  She kissed me again deeply. “Relax, Detective. You aren’t being reprimanded. Not yet, anyway, but I’m sure your superiors would like a few words with you for not following proper procedure.”

  I looked at her silently for a minute. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Kate Fellows and I am the CEO of Roundtable Publishing. We own your city’s daily newspaper, along with about 300 others across the country. One of our editors wanted to write a piece on the prostitution sting, denouncing it as a waste of taxpayer dollars when you have so many other, more serious, crimes in Miami. The article would have alerted the public to the fact that there were going to be undercover cops posing as prostitutes. There were some legal questions involved.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, but my brain must have kicked into detective mode. “All your little speech tells me is how you found out about the sting. What were you doing cruising the streets, trying to pick up a hooker?”

  “Curiosity, mainly. I wanted to see what a cop dressed as a hooker would look like. I wanted to know if I would be able to tell the difference. ”

  “That still doesn’t tell me why you tried to pick me up.”

  “I picked you up because I wanted to have sex with you. Plain and simple. No mystery to solve, Detective.”

  “Did you know I was a cop?”

  “Not at first, but once you leaned into my window I knew you were interested in me and experiencing an ethical crisis of your own. To act on your desire and go against departmental procedure or to try and… What is the term? Oh, yes. Bust me. Your internal struggle was all over your face which excited me even more.”

  She trailed her hands along my shoulders and sides, looking at me earnestly. “There is nothing for you to be upset about, Detective. You didn’t let on that you were a police officer and I didn’t let on that I already suspected you were. We’re even.”

  I thought about what she said. Being a detective and the daughter of a detective, what really bugged me was that I hadn’t figured out that she wasn’t an ordinary Jane. She kissed me and I kissed her back. Then I heard that soft, throaty chuckle again. “Now, then. Aren’t you supposed to carry a pair of handcuffs?”

  Fun & Games

  The leather belt lands on my bare ass with a loud smacking sound. I bite down hard on the towel for a second, preparing for the next blow. Twenty, thirty, hell, even forty or fifty blows could connect with my flesh without arousing the slightest reactio
n from me, but this is a spanking party and my ass is a rental. You know how people treat rentals, right? Let’s just say my ass had already been ridden for way over two hundred miles.

  I had lost count of the spankings around that number and I know that was at least ninety minutes ago. My ass is costing the host two hundred and fifty dollars an hour of which I got to keep two hundred. My agent/manager/boyfriend keeps the remaining fifty.

  Jacob just invests the money right back into my career, so he isn’t really making any money off of my talent. What with marketing and advertising, membership fees for several professional agencies and the almost thousand dollars or so a month that I spend on my hair, nails, facials, waxing and teeth whitening, I was very glad that he had kept his day job as a high-priced criminal attorney.

  We don’t need the money—that’s the thing. I was bent over a wooden stool in some real estate agent’s kitchen having my ass beaten by a roster of about twenty or so guys, just for shits and giggles.

  ***

  When I get home, by limo mind you—that’s part of the deal—Jacob is in bed with an open book on his lap and an open bottle of red wine on the night stand. He looks up and over his reading glasses and smiles, his dark green eyes shining. I take in his lean, muscular, shirtless body and squeeze my legs together.

  “Hi honey,” he says, his deep voice causing a shiver to travel hurriedly down my spine--all the way to my cherry red ass. He casually runs his hands through his chestnut colored hair as if I had just gotten home from picking up some milk and bread from the grocery store.

  I crawl into to the bed next to him; take the book out of his lap, and rest my head on his crotch. “Hi baby,” I purr, snuggling up against him and inhaling his soapy scent.

  I feel his long, lean fingers running through my hair and I shut my eyes, enjoying the moment. Jacob knows I need about two minutes of quiet whenever I get home from being rented out. Just one hundred and twenty seconds of silence to bask in the liberating feeling of having been someone’s ‘entertainment.’