by Jason Luke
She would be free of Congressman Jansing.
It made twisted sense to Clarissa; so much so that she attacked Jim’s cock like she was ravenous and desperate. Her mouth became a machine, her hand a blur up and down his shaft as she stroked him. She put her whole body into each suck of her mouth, swaying from the hips so that her breasts swung and her shoulders rocked. Her hair swished across the smooth flesh of her naked back. Her eyes locked on to Jim’s and never left him. They were eyes filled with deep desire and passion, huge and adoring. She used every single trick she had learned. She gasped and sucked, licked and teased. She swabbed the purpling crown of Jim’s cock with her tongue and devoured him until her nose pressed against the cool flesh of his abdomen.
After just a few frantic minutes, Jim was wailing and clenching his fists. His face filled with color and his whole body went tense. Clarissa felt his cock throb. She had him deep in her mouth, her lips clamped tight at the base of his shaft. Her whole body jolted as the man standing before her suddenly bucked his hips. His cock jabbed against the back of her throat – and then he came in a white hot rush.
“Jeeysus!” Jim cried out as the orgasm was torn from him. He felt his heat stop for an instant, and then crash back into frantic drumming. He stood, swaying on the balls of his feet. Clarissa hadn’t moved. She stayed, braced on her knees, and let Jim’s cock explode and leap and clench in her mouth like a bird flapping in a cage.
When it was over, and there was no more cum to swallow, Clarissa let the man’s cock slip limp and wasted from her mouth. Jim tottered back onto the bed, lying on his back with his eyes glazed and his chest heaving. He kept gasping for breath, trying to speak but not yet capable of mastering full words. The sounds were grunts and groans. Clarissa licked her lips, and got quietly to her feet.
“I have to see my Master,” she said.
Jim waved her away with a languid hand, like royalty dismissing a servant who was of no further use. Clarissa crept into the bathroom, stealthy as a thief. She pressed her ear against the far bedroom door and listened for a moment. In the bedroom beyond she could hear the distinct sounds of a girl moaning and panting. The sound was rising, seeming to grow in volume and passion. Clarissa reached for the door handle. Her palm was sweaty and still slippery with her saliva. She was shaking. Rage began to boil behind her eyes. Then she heard Margie cry out, “I’m gonna cum!”
Clarissa flung the door open and stood wild-eyed in the threshold.
The girl was lying in the middle of a big bed, her legs wide apart and her knees slightly bent. She had one hand between her legs, and with the fingers of her other hand, she was plucking at her nipples. Her eyes were closed and her face was twisted into the ecstasy of an orgasm.
Nick Edge was standing on the other side of the room. He looked across at Clarissa with surprise.
“Are you finished?” he asked simply.
Clarissa felt the blood drain from her face with acute embarrassment. She stood wide-eyed and naked, panting, with accusations tripping off the end of her tongue. She bit them back in a whirl of incomprehension. Edge wasn’t fucking the girl at all. In fact he wasn’t even touching her, or kissing her, or even fingering her.
He had been watching the girl make herself cum.
Clarissa shuffled her feet. She couldn’t look Edge in the eye. Instead she stared at Margie as the girl tenderly stroked herself with the soft touches of afterglow. “Yes, Master. I made Jim cum as you ordered.”
“Good,” Edge pushed himself off the wall and brushed past her. They exchanged glances for just an instant and Clarissa quailed when she saw the understanding in Edge’s eyes. She averted her gaze and lowered her head.
She had made a fucking fool of herself, Clarissa realized. And Edge had known, the bastard! He had known all along how jealous this scene was going to make her feel.
And she had proven him right.
After a minute, Clarissa came back into the bedroom where Edge and Jim were talking quietly. Jim was dressed. Edge looked up.
“Jim says you were very enthusiastic, and very skillful,” Edge reported.
“Thank you, Master,” Clarissa said humbly, feeling like a fraud.
“He was impressed with your talent and your willingness.”
“Thank you, Master.” She glanced furtively at Jim and saw the big man nodding his head. He had a stupid lopsided grin on his face.
“The session is over for the night,” Edge went on, and a glimmer of hardness came into his voice. “Gather your things from downstairs and go home. I’ll expect you back tomorrow evening, on time… and with the right attitude.”
Clarissa nodded. She left the bedroom and scurried down the stairs. As she began to dress, she heard footsteps descending. She turned and saw Edge. He came very close to her, his voice suppressed to a bleak whisper, every word frosted with ice.
“Don’t you ever dare to think again,” he warned her. “It’s not your purpose, and it’s not your role. You don’t think – you just do. You’re a mouth and a pussy to be used for your Master’s pleasure, when he sees fit.”
“Yes, Master,” Clarissa felt tears sting her eyes, and she fought to batter them away. “I understand it all now.”
Chapter 14:
The burner phone rang.
A chill of ominous fear leaped up Clarissa’s spine.
She snatched the phone out of her handbag and held it to her ear, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked like a slut. Her hair was still tousled from her session at Edge’s house, and her lipstick was smeared.
“Hello?” There was a tremor of apprehension in her voice.
“Did Edge fuck you?” the Congressman’s voice was harsh and accusing.
“No.”
The silence that ensued was dreadful. Clarissa gnawed at her lip. The empty space lasted a painfully long time.
“Your grandfather has one more day – just one more fucking day! Do you understand me?” Jansing was shouting at her.
“Yes,” Clarissa said. She hung up, and then quietly broke down in tears.
The moment Clarissa appeared at the front gates, the high iron fence began to roll back across the driveway. She gave the security camera perched in the foliage of a tree a familiar wave, then stepped onto the loose pebbles of the driveway. She walked with confidence and poise, swinging her hips with just a hint of flirtatious strut.
But behind the calm façade, she was nervous and trembling.
Each breath needed to be forced from her lungs; each casual swaying stride was a fresh test of her will.
She reached the steps without faltering and knocked lightly on the door. After a moment Nick Edge appeared, filling the frame and concentrating her thoughts. He was dressed casually in a brown t-shirt and faded denim jeans. He hadn’t shaved that morning, so his cheeks and jaw were shadowed gunmetal blue with raspy stubble. He smiled into her eyes like he was delighted to see her.
“How do you feel after the last training session?” Edge asked Clarissa, as if her answer was the password for entry into the house.
She stood on the step and considered her reply. It was dark, and the porch lights were on. Behind Edge, the interior of the big house looked warm and inviting. Clarissa was wearing a short blue dress that buttoned at the front, and had a black leather belt cinched around her waist. The accessory seemed to accentuate the narrow perfection of her figure. As an added allure, Clarissa had bought a thin black length of leather cord and knotted it around her neck as a kind of collar. She licked her lips. Her face was made up perfectly; she looked the epitome of sexual desire… and she knew it.
“I feel fine,” she said carefully. Every word was so important. She could still hear the tolling echo of Congressman Jansing’s last ominous threat to her. She knew she had run out of time. She could no longer wait for Edge to choose to fuck her. Tonight she had to force the issue. There was no other choice. The realization filled her with the dread of a looming deadline, but also served to harden her resolve. Her tra
ining under the submissive tutelage of Nick Edge had given her brimming sexual confidence. She felt she now understood the small mysteries of a man’s arousal, and those experiences buoyed her enough to fight back debilitating panic.
Only just.
“Did you enjoy the session?”
“Yes, Master,” Clarissa put extra effort into the small sexy smile that played across her lips. “But I do have a confession…”
“Oh?” Edge arched his eyebrows with intrigue. He was still standing, blocking the door. He stepped back and Clarissa walked past him. She stopped and turned in the hallway. Edge closed the door.
“So, what’s the secret?” he asked.
“I’m very, very horny,” Clarissa breathed. As if to demonstrate, she brazenly lifted the hem of her dress to her waist, revealing shamelessly to Edge the shaved pouting lips of her pussy. “And I’m very wet, Master.” She added. “I don’t think I can go another day without being fucked.”
Edge’s eyes were drawn naturally to the wet lips of Clarissa’s sex, but they stayed there for just a moment, before lifting back to her face. Clarissa could not read his expression; Edge’s face seemed blank. She had hoped to see desire, or lust… or even just interest.
Edge gave her nothing.
Instead he put his hand on her upper arm to lead her towards his office. “I can appreciate your frustration,” Edge spoke. “But you’re a virgin, Clarissa. Your first time shouldn’t be something superficial, or driven by purely lust. You should give your virginity to a man you love. That’s why I’ve been so careful with all your training sessions, and never allowed any experience to cross the line.” They went through the office door. Clarissa looked up at Edge. The top of her head was level with the man’s broad muscled shoulders.
“And remember that your pussy is something that most Masters will use strictly for their own pleasure – not yours. Fucking you has no benefit to your training as a submissive… that’s why your virginity has not inhibited any of the things that you have needed to experience.”
As he spoke, Edge’s eyes softened and he turned his face to stare into Clarissa’s eyes. His hand on her arm fell to his side – and Clarissa seized upon a desperate impulse to act.
“Fuck me, please!” she hissed the words as though she were racked with terrible pain, moving fiercely and pressing herself hard against Edge’s body. She flattened her breasts against him and threw her arms tight around his neck. She pulled his face all the way down to hers and her mouth was warm and wide open; passionate across Edge’s lips. Clarissa could feel the firm muscles of his thighs and the hardness of his cock within the denim. She ground her hips against him, her back arched, and she moaned in desperation and desire as she kissed him.
For long icy moments Edge stood rigid and unmoving, trapped within Clarissa’s groaning embrace and stunned by his shock. Then he wrenched his mouth away and glared down at her.
“Are you fucking insane?” Edge clamped hold of her wrists in the vice-like grip of his big hands and tore them away from him. Clarissa broke free and squirmed back inside his defenses. She pressed her mouth this time against his chest, kissing his hard body through the material of his t-shirt. At the same time her hands were cunning and frantic at the front of his jeans. She got the buckle of his belt unfastened.
“Please, Edge. I want you to be my first. I need your cock!” Her voice was muffled. She was writhing and gasping, her own panic beginning to rise. She could feel the unyielding resolve of him and it terrified her to desperation. “I’m begging you!”
Edge caught Clarissa by the shoulders and shoved her backwards into the chair by his desk.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Edge stood back from Clarissa. He put the big wide desk between them and stalked to his chair but did not sit. He was simmering with anger, offended by the way Clarissa had defied the strict discipline of a submissive by throwing herself at him. He glared at her, and Clarissa could not bear the withering accusation in his eyes. She came out of the chair and reached across the desk, making one last lunge for Edge’s cock.
“Please fuck me!” she cried out, her eyes wild, her hands scrambling for him. One of her breasts fell free of her dress but Clarissa didn’t notice. All of her desperate attention was focused on Edge. “I need you to make love to me. Now. It’s got to be now.”
She was panting. There was madness in her eyes.
Edge stepped back out of her reach and at last Clarissa knew that it was hopeless. Her hands fell away and her features seemed to collapse. Her face turned ghostly pale. She began to shiver, but for a long time remained unmoving, leaning over the desk. Then, at last, she began to cry. Slow tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She swallowed down her defeat like it was poison, then slumped, crushed and forsaken, into the seat. Her gaze turned blank, eyes sightless as a statue. Numbed shock and panic mingled into a feeling as desolate as grief.
Edge too was panting, bewildered and outraged by Clarissa’s willful disobedience. She had seemed possessed. Now suddenly she was small and shaken. He threw himself down in his chair, hands clenched into fists of tight restraint. His face was cold but his eyes were terrible.
For a long time Edge stared at Clarissa across the desk, watching her fear and confusion, her panic and her distress. Everything she felt was right there on her face, and it was gut wrenching to watch. She wept with unaccountable despair.
Finally Edge spoke, each word slow and deliberate.
“Tell me what that was all about.”
Clarissa couldn’t meet his eyes. She was hunched with her shoulders slumped, suddenly very cold. She fought back fresh tears and turned her head away.
“Tell me,” Edge demanded. Clarissa caught the bristle of his impatience in his tone, and shook her head meekly. “I… I can’t…”
Edge smashed his fist down hard on the table. Clarissa jumped and flinched with fright. “You don’t have a fucking choice!” the big army veteran snarled at her. “Because you’re not leaving until I get answers.”
It was a long time before Clarissa finally spoke. The words came creeping from her, tentative and incoherent, each explanation wrapped around it’s own tortured pain and hopelessness. Edge listened with rising alarm, asking insightful questions to urge her along whenever she faltered. Then, when Clarissa was done and everything had been explained, Nick Edge insisted she go back over the details of her story step by step. This time he listened with a rising sense of outrage.
“You auctioned off your virginity?”
“Yes.”
“To raise the money your grandfather needed to keep the banks from taking his farm from him?”
“That’s right,” Clarissa sniffled. “I thought I could sell myself to a wealthy man for one night. I was prepared to make that sacrifice to help my grandfather. He’s the only family I have.”
“And that was how you chose to raise forty thousand dollars?”
Clarissa shrugged. “I didn’t feel like I had any other choice. I was desperate. The banks were pressuring my grandfather for payment. He couldn’t hold out. He can’t continue to hold out.”
Edge nodded slowly. “And when you sold yourself, the man who bought your virginity turned out to be Congressman Wilton Jansing?”
“Yes,” Clarissa said softly. “I didn’t know who he was at the auction. He had a mask on. It was only when he arrived at the hotel penthouse that I recognized him.”
Edge grunted. The Congressman’s name had been muttered to him before amidst murky whispered allegations that could never be proven.
“But he didn’t want to take your virginity?”
“No,” Clarissa shook her head. “That was when I finally understood the lengths the man had gone to in order to trap me.”
“Because of your looks, right?”
Clarissa nodded. “He bought me as bait for you, Nick. He bought my virginity because he wanted me to photograph you fucking me. He was going to use the pictures to blackmail you.”
“And cl
aim that the girl in the photos was Anna, and that the two of us were engaged in some kind of scandalous affair?”
“Yeah,” Clarissa nodded, feeling somehow guilty by implication. “The Congressman was going to take the photos to the press. He knows that a lot of your funding for the work you do investigating sex traffickers comes from churches and Christian groups. He thought he could use the photos to cut off your support and break your organization.”
“And turn the trail that leads to Anna stone cold.”
“Yes. He said the photos would convince the media that you and Anna were having an affair. He said he could make it seem that the images were taken before Anna disappeared, and that the story would become about Anna running from you because the affair broke down. Her kidnapping would be forgotten.”
Edge made a sound like he had taken a gut-punch. His mouth was curled into a sneer of distain. He sat back in his chair and stared at the wall as the enormity of the Congressman’s plot struck him. The desk lamp was on, casting the rugged edges of his features into a deep shadows. It made him look menacing and frightening.
“Go on,” Edge said without turning his eyes back to Clarissa’s. He was peering into empty space, but behind the blank expression of his eyes, his mind was racing.
Clarissa shrugged. She felt somehow relieved. Purging herself of her guilt had unburdened her of a dreadful weight. “There’s nothing more to tell.”
Edge swung round in his chair.
“Jansing told you to offer yourself to me?”
“Yes,” Clarissa flushed with shame. “He told me that you were training girls to submit to Masters. He ordered me to come here and ask for training. He knew you wouldn’t turn me away. He was counting on my looks – the fact that Anna and I look identical – to compel you to train me.”
Edge smiled thinly. “That’s why you told me about the other men you had approached online when you first showed up on my doorstep…”
