by Jason Luke
The bed was a mess. The sheets were on the floor, and so was a pillow.
Clarissa let out a long heavy breath, like the one people use to blow out birthday candles.
Afterwards – when the room was quiet and her breathing had settled back into its usual rhythm – she felt better; lighter. But she also felt guilty. She knew Edge would never know that she had defied him, but she would know.
Clarissa was struck then by a startling, profound thought. She realized just how dedicated and committed she had become to her submissive training. It wasn’t even necessary. She had gone to Edge for BDSM instruction for one reason only – to get him to fuck her and to photograph the moment. Nothing else mattered, because with the evidence she would be set free of the Congressman.
And yet, here she was, diligently following Edge’s instructions, obeying his every command without question, and earnestly trying to win his favor and approval.
…Until tonight when she had made herself cum without his permission.
She rolled onto her side and stared out through the bedroom window. There was a chink in the gauzy thin fabric and she could see the city skyline; not the pretty façade of Washington – nothing like a million dollar view… but rather a grimy scene of the working city’s bleak underbelly, lit by bright lights as though to mask the ugliness. Clarissa folded her arms and used her hands for a pillow to support her head. With the need to cum washed away from her body, she felt soft and limp. She could sleep now… if the guilt would let her.
Chapter 13:
Clarissa skipped work at the city politician’s office the next morning. She was tired and irritable; sleep had eluded her for much of the night, and when she had finally dozed, Nick Edge had been there, tormenting her in her dreams.
She wasted the day in listless contemplation; mired in a lethargy of helplessness. She simply didn’t know what else she could possibly do to tempt Edge into fucking her.
It wasn’t this hard for other women!
Jesus! There were guys on every street corner that would gladly fuck her. She saw the way men looked at her; the lustful hungry look in their eyes when she walked past, or when she smiled shyly. So what the hell was wrong with Edge? Why couldn’t he be just another red-blooded guy with only one thing on his mind?
She threw herself back on the unmade bed and lay there stewing. The sun through the window of her room was like a magnifying glass, turning the whole bedroom warm. A shaft of light spread across her chest and legs, lulling and comforting. Clarissa closed her eyes and tried to visualize herself in Edge’s arms, with him tearing at her clothes as she twisted and teased him, laughing with flirtatious giggles. She would put up a struggle, of course. Just enough to show Edge that she wasn’t that kind of girl…
…In her romantic fantasies.
Because in reality, she was that kind of girl. She was exactly that kind of girl! She was the sort of woman who was so desperate for Edge to fuck her that she had literally begged him to!
And still he had refused her.
Clarissa closed her eyes. The sun crept slowly up her body, wrapping her in a blanket of soft radiant warmth that reminded her of her childhood. When she had been too ill for school, her mom had made her spend the day in bed, and the sun through the window was just like it was right now…
Finally, she slept.
Clarissa woke with a start, suddenly chilled. There were goosebumps on her arms and legs, and the room was gloomy with darkness. She shot a horrified glance at her bedside clock and then swore vehemently.
“Fuck!”
It was after 6 pm. She had slept through the entire afternoon. Now night was draping itself like a black cloak over the city. Lights were winking from down on the busy street below. Clarissa flung herself out of bed with no time to shower, and called a cab while she hurriedly dressed. She snatched red panties and a bra from the top drawer of her dresser, then pulled on a short black dress. In the bathroom, she combed her fingers through her hair and swept a cluster of cosmetics into her handbag, like a poker player collecting his winning chips. She could attend to her makeup on the way.
She was down the stairs and waiting on the sidewalk just fifteen minutes later. She paced back and forth impatiently. A cab pulled out of the streaming traffic and swung to the sidewalk. She gave the driver the address and slumped back in the seat with a blast of breath and a heavy sigh.
She would be late, she fretted.
Edge would not be happy.
Clarissa arrived beyond the high gates of Nick Edge’s house a few minutes after 7 pm. She paid the driver with a fistful of bills and ran on high heels to the intercom that was built into the stone fence post. She stabbed the button with her finger in an impatient frenzy.
“It’s Clarissa,” she said when she heard the buzz of a connection.
The high iron gate opened. Clarissa ran down the driveway, licking at her lips and pressing at her hair. She saw an unfamiliar car parked near the wide steps. It was a dark sedan – a vehicle she had never seen before. She frowned for an instant, then frowned again when she looked up at the façade of the house. Apart from a light inside the front door, the rest of the bottom floor of the house was dark. There were two lights burning in windows on the second floor.
She dabbed the doorbell with her thumb. After a long agitated wait, she heard heavy footsteps. Clarissa braced herself and wrenched her face into a wide-eyed expression of apology.
Edge opened the door.
“You’re late,” he stared at her balefully, as though she had committed some high crime. Clarissa licked her lips with nerves. She felt herself seem to physically wilt under the blow torch of the man’s gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she said, then lowered her head. “I have no excuse.”
The admission made her cheeks flush bright red. She had flirted with the idea of lying; of passing the blame onto the cab driver, or the traffic… or space aliens. But in the end, her honesty made her confess the truth. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I didn’t work today. I slept instead.”
Edge grunted. His eyes were like chips of stone. He swung the door back and stepped aside. Clarissa came meekly into the foyer.
“Undress,” Edge said.
Clarissa had been expecting this. It was almost a routine. Quickly she shrugged off her dress, shimmying her hips to pull the tight fabric down over herself.
“And the lingerie,” Edge’s voice was flat and without warmth. “I want you naked except for the heels.”
Clarissa did as she was told. She discarded her bra and then finally her panties. She bundled the sheer fabric into a tight ball within her fist and stuffed the garments into her handbag. She stood up straight, her eyes fixed ahead and staring into space. Edge reached into his pocket and produced a thin, soft length of rope, about four feet long. At one end of the rope was a loop. He draped the loop loosely over Clarissa’s neck, like a leash.
“Follow me.”
He led her up the staircase to the top floor of the house. Clarissa could see wedges of light from two open doors halfway down the passage on her left. She followed Edge into the first room. It was a bedroom with a big king-size four-poster bed. Lying in the middle of the bed, in just his shorts, was big Jim – the man who owned the sex shop she had been driven to.
Standing in a corner, also naked and with her hands cuffed behind her back, was the blonde submissive girl, Margie. The girl had her head down, her eyes gazing at the floor between her feet. Her flesh was soft and pale under the light from the lamps on either side of the bed. She was standing obedient and straight and silent. Edge led Clarissa over to the corner where the other girl was waiting and left her there.
“Eyes down. Hands behind your back.”
Clarissa obeyed. Edge let the leash dangle between her breasts.
From the corner of her eye, Clarissa could see a joining internal door that connected to a bathroom, and then another open door beyond which revealed a second bedroom where more lights burned.
Edge
went casually to the side of the bed and flicked a glance at Jim.
“Well?” Then he folded his arms across his chest and ran an appraising eye over both the girls, standing still as statues. Clarissa was taller, her body a little slimmer. She had smaller breasts, but they were still pert and well defined shapes that curved from her chest. Margie’s breasts were larger, her hips a little wider, and her skin a little paler.
Jim didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, of course,” he said. He had missed the opportunity to experience the pleasure of Clarissa’s mouth at the glory hole. He wouldn’t miss another chance. He was watching Clarissa with dark lustful eyes, his cock growing hard in his shorts. He propped himself up on one elbow. He was a big man, and any muscle that had ever accumulated across his arms and chest had long since turned to pale flab. He wasn’t yet fat… that would inevitably come in a few more years of poor diet and no exercise.
“You want her here?” Edge asked.
Jim shrugged his shoulders. It didn’t matter. This room, the bathroom or the other bedroom; he didn’t care. He just wanted her. “Sure,” he said finally. “I’m comfortable enough.”
Edge nodded and grunted. “Remember the rule?”
“How could I forget?” Jim’s face became a wry grimace of disappointment. Edge narrowed his eyes. “It’s set in stone, Jim. Understand?”
“Yeah,” he capitulated. “A deal is a deal.”
Edge nodded. He went back to Clarissa and lifted her face with a finger under her chin.
“You are going to stay with Jim in this bedroom and pleasure him in any way he desires,” Edge explained. “I’ve told him he cannot fuck you – but he can do anything else he wants. I expect you to give him the time of his life. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Clarissa whispered, careful to hide her disappointment, while other more urgent and confusing questions and emotions came boiling to the surface of her mind like the bubbles in a cauldron of witches brew.
Where will you be?
Will you be taking Margie with you?
Are you gonna fuck her?
Edge stood back and grunted. Then he reached for Margie’s arm and led her towards the bathroom door. The girl went willingly with Edge, her steps brisk with a secret enthusiasm and anticipation. Edge glanced back over his shoulder. He could see Clarissa watching him, her eyes wide and unfathomable.
“I’ll be in the other bedroom with Margie. Remember – Jim is an experienced Master. Obey him.”
Clarissa watched, frowning and disturbed, until Edge had taken Margie through the adjoining bathroom into the next bedroom. The last thing she saw was Margie turning to Edge in the frame of the far doorway, her face lifted to his in a shy adoring submissive smile. They were standing close, their bodies almost pressing together.
Then the door shut, and Clarissa turned cold with disturbed dread.
Jim cleared his throat. Clarissa turned stiffly. The man was laying on his back, with his shorts down around his ankles, and his cock vaulting and hard, thrust at the canopy over the vast bed. He had his hands behind his head like an extra pillow. He looked hungrily at Clarissa.
“Come here,” Jim said. His voice was thickening with his desire. He watched her walk to the side of the bed.
“Turn around.”
Clarissa turned with her back to him.
“Now bend over.”
Clarissa folded forward at the waist.
She heard Jim growl like a starving animal. It was a crude lust-filled sound that’s meaning was unmistakable.
“Spread your legs and play with yourself.”
Clarissa parted her legs and reached between her thighs with one of her hands. Her hair fell about her face like a great golden curtain of shimmering light. She closed her eyes. Her legs were straight, every muscle drawn tight and accentuated by the heels she wore. She used the flat of her hand to slowly tease her clit and felt it harden between her fingers.
She imagined Jim, laying on the bed and watching her, ravenous with his wanting. She thought about the way his eyes must be roaming over her ass and her pussy; how much he wanted to fuck her. She felt her nipples begin to harden, but it never quite happened, because suddenly her thoughts began to crowd with dark and troubling uncertainties.
What was Edge doing with Margie in the other bedroom?
Was she on her knees right now, worshipping his huge cock with those soft lips of hers, and treating him to the kind of blowjob that she had demonstrated in the tiny sex shop cubicle?
Was Edge standing, with his back against the bedroom wall and his eyes closed? Did he have his cock in Margie’s mouth and his hands clawing at her hair as she showed him pleasures that Clarissa had yet to fully master?
Or was he fucking her?
Her mind became a dark whirl of fears and dread… and… and jealousy?
Could that be?
Could Clarissa be insanely jealous because Edge was with another woman when she – Clarissa – was supposed to satisfy and service him completely?
She drew a deep breath and felt Jim’s hand on her ass. He was rubbing her bottom as though to sooth an ache. Then one of his fingers slid between her thighs. She felt it brush against her own hand and she let hers fall away and his take over.
She was too distracted to be aroused. Instead of focusing on the man she had been ordered to please, she was thinking about her Master in another bedroom. She felt a warm flush of color spread across her cheeks.
The irrational absurdity of what she was feeling struck her. Edge had seen her and sent her to pleasure a dozen different men, and she had done so willingly; excitedly. So what possible right did she have to be jealous of Edge if he chose to fuck another woman?
It made no sense… until suddenly it did. Clarissa wasn’t jealous of Edge being in a room with Margie, or any other woman, for that matter. She had no emotional investment in the man. He was just the man who was training her and facilitating her fantasies. What really burned her though… what really filled her with a simmering jealous rage, was the possibility that he could be fucking another girl.
Fucking some other woman when what she herself wanted more than anything else was to have his cock inside her!
She had begged him, for god’s sake!
It wasn’t that Edge was with another woman. It was the outrage that he would want some pussy other than hers.
That’s what really burned her.
Jim slipped one of his fingers inside the lips of her pussy and the intimate touch within her brought her reluctantly out of her dark seething mood, and forced her to focus. She let out an obligatory little sigh, just the way she was expected, and then made a soft contented sound in the back of her throat. She felt nothing, but she was compelled to respond.
Jim used his finger to slowly fuck her. Clarissa was wet, but not aroused. She stayed bent obediently and let her mind drift while Jim’s touch stroked and teased her.
She thought about Edge in that bedroom. He was just twenty feet away from her, probably lying on the bed by now, probably with Margie’s tight pussy wrapped around his cock.
Bastard!
She saw the other girl perched on top of Edge, her knees bent, their groins locked together as Margie slowly lifted herself up and down Edge’s thick cock. In her mind’s eye she could see the girl’s mouth open, her lips still puffy from sucking his long shaft. She would have her eyes closed and her head thrown back, and she would be slowly riding him, slowly milking his cock with every plunge of her pussy.
Fucking bastard!
Clarissa began to rock her hips, making herself sway and respond to the finger inside of her. She could hear Jim’s breathing becoming hoarse. It was rasping in the back of his throat.
“Do you like that, baby?” he asked thickly. “Do you like big Jim’s finger deep inside you?”
“Oh, yes,” Clarissa breathed with all the fake conviction she could muster.
“Good girl,” the man cooed. He stood up behind her and rubbed his hard cock along the crack of h
er ass. He was grunting, breathing hard suddenly. Clarissa could imagine the twist of torment on his face – to be so close to fucking her, but not allowed to. She lowered herself to her knees and turned towards the bed. Jim’s cock was right in front of her face. It was about six inches long. He was slowly stroking himself, grabbing at the head of his cock as if he could somehow stretch it longer. Clarissa opened her mouth but did not move.
Jim was looking down at her, his eyes wild and red with lust. There was a snarl of brute desire on his lips. He rubbed his cock around the ‘O’ of her lips, smearing her lipstick, and then carefully placed himself on her tongue.
Clarissa could feel the heat of him, and each tiny little pulse as he clenched and throbbed. Jim made her wait a full minute; still and obedient, then finally threw back his head.
“Suck me!” he insisted.
Clarissa closed her lips over the shaft of Jim’s cock and began to bob her head up and down. Her tongue ran over the thick veins along the underside of his shaft, and she filled her mouth with saliva and painted the length of his cock with it. Jim had his hands on his hips, his chest swollen by a deep lungful of air.
A thought struck Clarissa: Would Edge cum inside Margie? Would he fuck her right up until the moment he filled her pussy with his hot cum?
Just the idea infuriated her like it would be a monstrous betrayal.
She felt herself burning with unfounded outrage.
How dare he? How dare the bastard not only fuck another woman when she had been begging him to fuck her instead… but then to fill the other woman with his hot cum?
Her mind turned blank, then became incisive and calculating. She had to make Jim orgasm quickly. She had to wring the cum from his balls as fast as possible. Maybe then she could burst into the other room and catch Margie and Edge rutting and fucking like animals. And then she could storm out, incensed and wild with the treachery of Edge’s deceit. He would be forced to chase after her, wouldn’t he? He’d be forced to fuck her too, then… and she would have what she wanted.
