by Lynn, KT
Another maid entered the room, holding a delicate silver tray with a clear crystal glass of sparkling water. This newest “H” girl was mocha-complexioned, lithe and lean, with perky breasts and thick, dark nipples peeking from the holes of her uniform. Her hair, long and dark, was straight and parted down the middle like the others. Similarly, she was lovely, her features delicate, like that of a doll.
“Your sparkling water, Ms. Hague.” She said, walking toward me and bending slightly. In my eyesight, I saw Hague focus on her rear, his gaze languishing on her clearly exposed vagina. Her breasts swung forward, nearly colliding with my hand as I lifted to retrieve my drink.
“Thank you….” I said, slightly embarrassed.
“Anjelah.” She said politely, as she rose and placed the silver tray underneath her arm. Her breasts jiggled and her gorgeous nipples pointed in my direction. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Ms. Bailey?”
“N-n-o,” I stammered. “This is perfect, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Anjelah replied, turning on her gold heel and walking from the room. I noticed, like the others, she bore the “H” tattoo on her right buttock.
“I trust your flight was an enjoyable one?” Hague asked, his eyes now fixated intensely on me.
“Yes, Mr. Hague, it was, thank you. Your home is exquisite.”
“Thank you,” he said as he rounded his desk again, taking a seat in his office chair and leaning back casually. “I appreciate you coming all this way. I must say, I’ve been greatly impressed with Jerrick Morgan thus far and am excited to see what you have to offer me. I take it you have prepared a presentation with which to dazzle me?”
His piercing blue eyes bore a hole in my soul. His voice deep, he used it masterfully; delicately, so you were sure to remain silent to hear every word he said. He spoke with an eloquence befitting a man of great knowledge and power.
“Well… Mr. Hague, we have an aggressive investment strategy planned for your portfolio. With our insight into the current economy, Jerrick Morgan has an action plan designed to meet and exceed your financial goals.”
“Uh huh.” He said lackadaisically. “Go on…”
“We, um, have included a gracious proposal fee should you wish to forego our services and take the fully prepared proposal to another firm, which we’re certain you won’t. Our investment advisors are committed to managing your assets efficiently. That’s, um, how sure we are that the, um, our, proposal… that we created….will suit your needs.”
I struggled to find words, thrown by my unusual surroundings. I stumbled, stuttered. I was making a mess of my entire presentation. I was usually much more eloquent, much more self assured. His stare was so intense.
Involuntarily, I tossed my hair and crossed my legs seductively, a winning move I had picked up long ago. Usually, it worked like a charm, ingratiating a man to me.
Hague did nothing, but continued to stare, an indecipherable expression on his face.
“You seem unprepared, Elizabeth,” he said, reaching his arms upward and crossing them behind his head.
“No, sir. I-I…”
“You were in the discovery meeting in July, yes? I clearly remember you from the video conference,” he asked, raising his eye quizzically.
“I was, Mr. Hague,” I said sheepishly.
“Elizabeth. I’m sure you’re well aware of the rather large number of assets I’d be bringing to Jerrick Morgan. I’d need to trust you and your team in managing those assets. Can I trust you, Elizabeth?”
“Of course, Mr. Hague,” I said boldly.
The corner of his mouth raised into a mischievous grin. He certainly was a good looking man. I was beginning to understand now. He possessed the same sort of power I did, the same sort of attractive charm able to throw one off their game. He was able to command power.
“When I saw you,” he said, “Sitting there silently in the meeting, I knew I would have you here. I know what it is your company does, how they use your beauty.”
I was shocked. Lifting my eyes to his, attempting to counter him in defiance, “Now, listen, Mr. Hague--“
He raised his hand. “Tell me, Elizabeth, do you want my account?”
“Well, of course, Mr. Hague. Why do you think I got on a plane? Came all the way to Italy?”
Bending forward and standing, Hague walked to the large window overlooking his property, his back to me.
“You’re probably one of the most beautiful women I’ve laid my eyes upon, Elizabeth. I was immediately struck by you,” he said, turning his head only slightly in my direction. “I researched your background and, I must say, I was as impressed with your career as I was with your beauty, your sensuality. I knew you would work very hard to sign me to Jerrick Morgan.”
“Mr. Hague,” I protested, “I love what I do. I believe in my firm and my work and know Jerrick Morgan can achieve everything we’ve laid out for you in our proposal. I’d stake my career on it.”
Turning his head back to the window, quietly, he said, “I know, Elizabeth. I know. This is why I have a counter proposal for you.”
Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a phone with gold case similar to Sofia’s and tapped the screen. He returned the phone to his pocket. The soft whirl of a motor revved as mechanical curtains slowly descended, covering the window from which he gazed.
“Counter proposal?” I asked, suddenly frightened.
“Yes, Elizabeth, a counter proposal, predetermined by a game.” He said, turning to face me, the curtain steady lowering behind him. Overhead a series of soft incandescent lights lit and glowed softly. “The winner of the game will have the terms of their proposal met.”
“Mr. Hague,” I said emphatically, hoping the man hadn’t confused my physical attributes for that of vulnerability or naivety, “I don’t make a habit of mixing my work with play.”
“Let’s put it this way, are you a betting woman, Elizabeth? Would you bet me you’re capable of signing my business to Jerrick Morgan?”
“I would and could,” I said defiantly, tossing my hair and arching my back. Donovan Hague needs to know who he’s attempting to play his little games with.
Hague smiled, clearly amused by my show of strength. “Your track record proves such, Elizabeth. So, we shall play the game. You win, you get my account. You lose, you accept my counter proposal.”
What was this man thinking? Millions of dollars, his future, his investment properties, his retirement, all at stake for a game? He was certainly a curious man.
“Mr. Hague, this is rather unorthodox.”
“I’m sure you can see, Elizabeth, I’m a very unorthodox man. You’ve met Sofia, Gwendolyn and Anjelah,” he stated.
Embarrassed, I nodded and softly said, “Yes, I did.”
Walking to the sofa and taking a seat close to me, I could smell his cologne. “They were once like you, Elizabeth,” he said softly.
Confused, I cocked my head to the side.
“Sofia was an executive account manager for an advertising firm in Brazil,” he continued, lifting his hand and letting his fingers slide through my curly, blonde hair. I froze at his touch. “Gwendolyn? Well, Gwendolyn was a videographer for a small, but very successful, film studio in Canada. Anjelah…” he chuckled. “…well, Anjelah was quite challenging. She was an attorney specializing in intellectual property law. She was just in line to make partner…at a mid-size firm in Atlanta.”
My heart beat so rapidly I thought it would jump from my chest. A fear gripped me. I looked around for an escape; the only door was on the opposite side of the room. Hague’s hand now on my shoulder, softly caressing me, I second-guessed standing to leave.
“They’re mine now,” he continued. “Each still works within her chosen career field with small, discreet companies I’ve created for them. I encourage my pets to lead accomplished lives. I see to their every financial need so they can focus on fulfilling their goals and servicing me.”
“Pets? Service? I don’t understand,
Mr. Hague,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Oh, I think you do, Elizabeth. I think you understand all too well.” Standing suddenly, he towered above me, sliding his hands cooly in his pocket.
“Elizabeth, should you win our game, you will sign the largest account in Jerrick Morgan history. Would that make you happy?”
Unable to lift my eyes to his, I muttered the response I know he wanted to hear. “Immensely, yes, Mr. Hague.”
“Should you lose our game, you will be mine. You’ll live here, and in my other properties, with me. You’ll travel the world with me. You’ll live well, more lavishly than you can imagine. You’ll continue your work in investments. I’ll set you up nicely with a small virtual firm. But, when you’re not working, you will be mine.”
I looked deep into his cool, blue eyes, searching for an inclination that this was some sort of joke. I parted my lips to speak, but found no words. Was this really happening?
“Are you ready my dear?” Hague asked, extending his hand to me. Sensing my hesitation, he chided, “Remember, you’d stake your career on it.”
This man and his silly games... Who the hell did he think he was? I’ll let him play his game and watch him lose with amusement. Standing, without his aide, and placing my hands on my hips, I challenged him.
“I didn’t get where I am by losing,” I said sharply.
Hague smiled, amused, and nodded. Walking closer, his six-foot- two inch frame towering above me, he reached for my arms and lifted them. I furrowed my face. This was no board game we were talking about. There were no cards, no dice. This game was sexual. I opened my mouth to speak again, but his finger quickly pressed firmly against it.
“Shhhhh, Elizabeth. The game is now underfoot,” he whispered in my ear.
Reaching behind me he took the zipper of my dress between his fingertips. I felt as the metal slid down my back, the warm air hitting my skin. Bending down, he took the hem of my dress in hand and, with one, fluid motion, lifted the garment up my body and over my head, folding and lying it neatly on his antique couch.
He backed away slightly, letting his eyes devour me. I watched as a bulge began to appear in his perfectly creased pants, the sight of my black lace panties and bra arousing him.
“Mmmmm...” he moaned, taking his hand and cupping my breast, massaging the nipple with his palm. With his free hand he reached behind me and expertly unhooked my bra, slowly peeling it from my body, allowing one cup to fall and expose one breast, then the other.
“So sweet,” he said, taking my nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
My breathing was labored. His fingertips upon my nipple, pulling, rolling and pinching, caused me to wince. I struggled to find my breath. I was fearful of this game, forcing myself to remain silent in order to get through it as quickly as possible.
Taking my other nipple in hand he pulled, stretching and elongating my breasts. “You’re already following the rules, my pet. You see, Elizabeth, you must not make a sound. You must exhibit absolute control. Understood?”
I nodded my head determined to win this uncomfortable game, grab my clothes and the signed contract, and bolt from Hague’s estate as quickly as possible. I’d find a local hotel for the rest of my stay in Italy. I would never speak of this to anyone, ever.
Releasing my nipple from his firm manipulations, he took me by the wrist, walking me to his office chair.
“Sit, my pet.” He instructed.
Sitting, I crossed my legs and arms, covering myself as much as possibly.
“Open your legs, Elizabeth,” he commanded.
Summoning all of my courage, I uncrossed my legs.
“Wider,” he said, placing his palm on my cheek and gently stroking in an effort to calm me.
I spread my legs as wide as they would go.
“Perfect. Very good, Elizabeth.”
Reaching in his pocket, he revealed a small, gold key. Bending, he unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a sizeable antique box of a rich cognac with cantered corners and inlaid brass. Unlocking and lifting the lid, he revealed a treasure trove of items: a black vibrator with gold trim, an adjustable, gold-handled black riding crop, a marble ball gag, bronze nipple clamps, soft, black silk bondage rope and a long, pearl white vibrator with a curved tip. On the box, just underneath the lock point was a gold plated tag clearly inscribed “ELIZABETH”.
Reaching for my panties, he pulled them down slowly, tossing them to the floor behind him. Licking his finger and placing it at the top of the little strip I keep for appearance, he traced a long line down to the tip of my slit. Working his fingers, he spread me, placed his moist finger on my clit. I inhaled deeply, shocked by the sudden feel of his fingers inside me.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he murmured softly, as he gently tickled my clit. I turned my head toward the wall, willing myself not to look as Hague enjoyed my wide open hole.
Standing and grabbing the rope from the box, he unraveled it, walking around the chair behind me. I felt the firm grip of his hand on my wrists, pulling them back and beginning to tie the soft material around my skin. With a fear gripping me, my breathing became quick and labored.
Returning to his position in front of the chair, Hague rubbed his chin with his hand, surveying my partially confined body. Bending, reaching behind me and pulling a section of the rope forward, he grabbed each of my legs, lifted and placed my knees atop the armrests of the chair. He proceeded to wind the rope around my thighs and knees until my body was fully bound to the reclining chair.
Lowering in front of me, Hague reached in the box, picking up the black vibrator. I stayed silent, keeping my eyes on his every move. Looking me dead in the eye, he raised a hand and formed his fingers into the number three.
“This is round one,” he said hoarsely, turning on the vibrator, its low hum permeating the library.
Taking his free hand, he pushed the hood of my clit back gently. From my bound position, I could see the little knob peek out. Setting the tip of the vibrator against the ridge of my clit he began to rotate the instrument in small circles. My eyes rolled back into my head, reeling in unexpected pleasure as he began to work the top of my clit. Glancing down, I felt aroused as I watched Hague, on his knees, playing with my body like an expensive toy he had just been gifted.
Turning my chair slightly, he placed his elbow on my bound thigh to achieve a better angle. Spreading the lips of my pussy wide, he worked the vibrator in concentrated circles around my clit. I felt it begin to swell.
“Mmmmm, good girl, Elizabeth. Let that clit get nice and big for me,” he purred.
Quickening his circles he worked the vibrating wand against my clit. Pinching the hood back, he rolled the cool instrument around the erect knob, willing it to engorge fully.
My body, though I tried my damndest to prevent it, began to respond. I began to get wet.
“That’s it, Elizabeth. Get nice and juicy.”
My back arched, though only slightly due to my constraints, lifting my breasts high in the air. Reaching up, he squeezed my tit firmly, a growl escaping his lips. Waving the vibrator frantically, he massaged my clit rhythmically, attempting to force a sound from me.
“Come on, Elizabeth. Come on, baby….” he exclaimed, eager to hear me moan or scream so he could claim me. I kept my jaw locked; fighting the intense pleasure he was giving my body.
Hague worked my clit for a long time, increasing the vibrating motor, keeping the hood of my clit pushed back, licking his finger and pressing the moist digit against my swollen pearl. I writhed in my seat, enduring the ecstasy silently and forcing myself to remain absolutely silent. When his hand tired and his patience waned, he began to pinch my clit fiercely, jiggling it back and forth as he worked the humming vibrator against it. I felt my cum begin to rise. My breathing increased as my hips began to rise and fall, urging Hague to give me release.
“Cum, pet. Cum for me,” he urged.
Lifting my hips as high as my constraints wo
uld allow, I thrust into his fingers. Expertly, he pinched the exploding nodule firmly, working my cum from me. I saw the world haze as my body began to convulse. Silently, I came, closing my eyes to concentrate on the tingling sensation overtaking my body. Panting profusely, I gave him my orgasm, a silent slave to his masterful dominance. My cum washing over me, I languished in the waves of my intense orgasm, silently.
“You are good, aren’t you?” Hague chided, rising to his feet, keeping his eyes on my dripping pussy.
I smiled a mischievous grin; communicating to the business mogul he had met his match. He would rue the moment he underestimated me. I would emerge from this “meeting” with a signed contract.
