by Jamie Knight
“It would be a breach of contract,” the king said smugly.
“And what? You’ll sue me for all the money I wasn’t paid?” I asked.
“Well, no, but I’m sure our lawyers could find something to go after, and I warn you. I can be like a honey badger when I’m riled. That’s why I sit in the big chair. If I come after you, it is going to hurt,” the king blustered.
Taking out my trusty Moleskine, I twisted the cap from my most treasured fountain pen that once belonged to Noël Coward, and jotted something down. Tearing out the page, I scooted it over to the king, my years as table-hockey champion of the world coming into force.
“$165 billion. What the hell is this?”
“A gentle reminder of who it is you’re talking to,” I said, sliding the pen and notebook back into the pocket of my Italian leather jacket.
I’d seen a lot of things in my life, but I had never seen a human face turn that color before. It looked like a balloon full of jam.
Once I left the room, I dialed Morgan by muscle memory. It took three rings for her to pick up. She sounded like she had been crying. I suddenly felt even better about nearly making the king viper’s head explode.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Adam?”
“Yeah, listen, I just found out what happened with the studio. That had nothing to do with me, and I set them straight.”
“Y-you did?”
“Absolutely. We shouldn’t have any more trouble with them. I made things very clear,”
I said.
“What did you do?” Morgan asked.
“Just reminded them who owns the facility they would be shooting at. As well as the fact that I could buy their company ten times over at twice.”
“Oh, wow,” Morgan said.
“I’ll send a car for you. Do you have someone in mind you want to look after your little one while you are working, or should I arrange for a nanny?” I inquired, getting down to brass tacks.
“I-I do. Have someone, I mean,” Morgan said, still not seeming to believe that it was all real.
I could relate.
“Great, I’ll see you at the airport.”
The plane was one of the first things I’d bought with my first million. It didn’t cost all of that, partly because it was used. I saw no reason to waste money just because I had more money than most people would see in twenty lifetimes. In fact, it was all the more reason to try and use it to do some good in the world. God knew it was sorely needed.
I had just settled into my leather seat when the electric white limo came onto the private air strip. Shonna, efficient as ever, got the three people and their bags out of the limo and into the plane in record time.
“Thank you, Shonna.”
“Sir,” she said with an instinctive salute.
“She’s, um, intense,” observed Morgan’s companion, who I soon learned was named Astrid.
“Intenth!” Morgan’s little girl, Freya, parroted.
I made a mental note to watch what I said around her, even more than I normally would around a child.
“She was in the military since the age of 17.”
“They take them that young?”
“If they fib. It’s a conscription system, anyway.
“There’s no draft anymore,” Astrid said, as though I was a pitiable fool.
“There was in Israel. They even conscript women for combat and leadership positions. She’s seen some things.”
“Hence the shades?” Astrid skied.
“Exactly.”
“McQueens, right?” Morgan asked.
“Well spotted.”
The compound wasn’t very far. I had chosen the island partly for the easy commute as well as the natural wilderness that surrounded the property. It made it a bit difficult to put in the airstrip, but we had worked it out, managing to just squeak past the minimum requirement set for safety. Not that anyone would be coming out and checking, of course.
There were exactly three people on the planet who knew the island’s exact coordinates, and one of them barely ever spoke. Still, it was better to be safe than dying in flaming agony, as the old saying goes.
The car was at the bottom of the stairs when we got down. I had called from the plane to arrange it, as well as a few other things.
I was glad that Morgan was soon to be all mine.
Chapter Eight - Morgan
Holy peanuts! The legends of this tech billionaire’s luxury compound out among the crashing waves of the pacific were true. More than that, I was going there.
Adam hadn’t actually turned from a handsome prince to a hideous ogre, unlike the version of some fairy tale that young girls are always told. He really did want me there and actually had to fight the powers that be to make it happen.
It felt wonderful to be so valued. Even better, I had the two people I cared about most in the world there with me. Both of them seemed to take the whole thing in stride.
At least until we got close to the island. Then, Astrid let out her inner child. She squealed with excitement, glued to the window as the plane wafted down like a sheet of paper on the breeze.
The car appeared as if by magic at the bottom of the stairs, ready to whisk us through the trees and on to the palace.
“There’s a separate wing for Freya and Astrid,” Adam informed me. “They’ll have their own grounds. Other than for some trusted staff who live on the premises and isolate here, there is no interaction with the outside world. And everything has been sanitized. Don’t worry; it’s a completely safe place to be for the pandemic. All possible arrangements have been made.”
“What arrangements?” Astrid asked, eyeing Adam suspiciously.
“A personal chef, a gardener, a personal trainer, a pony with a riding instructor-”
“Pony?” Astrid and Freya asked, with similar levels of excitement.
“Quite. I would very much like for you to be happy here.”
“You’re certainly off to a good start!” Astrid exclaimed before taking her new best friend in an attack hug.
“Just go with it. She’ll tire herself out,” I said as Adam looked to me for advice regarding the young woman who had just attached herself to him.
Arriving at the house, we got to the part I had been dreading, at least secretly, since I filled out the application.
“Mommy has to go now, okay, Baby?” I told Freya. “You are going to stay here with Astrid. You can go for lots of walks in the woods and there’s even a pony to pet.”
“Pony!” Freya said brightly.
“That’s right, Baby. Just don’t be petting any more skunks, okay?”
“Thkunk?” Freya asked.
“The kitty with the big white stripe you met in the park.”
“Oh, okay.”
With a heavy heart, I handed Freya over to Astrid, who took her in her capable arms. I knew they would both be fine. But I would still miss both of them.
“Bye-bye, Mama,” Freya said with a baby wave.
“Bye-bye, Baby,” I said, returning the wave.
“We’ll be fine,” Astrid said.
“I know, thanks for doing this.”
“Anytime.”
Astrid and I hugged, awkwardly trying not to crush Freya in the process. I went to Adam, who was waiting patiently for me at a respectful distance.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
More than you know.
We went to our own wing of the mansion, walking side by side. I thought Adam might try to touch me, maybe squeeze my ass or whatever. But he was very much a gentleman. I could practically feel the designee minting off him like heat from a campfire. Yet he kept his hands to himself.
“Not until you sign the contract,” he said, as if reading my mind.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Once he had reached the dining room area of our wing, he handed it over to me.
It was by far the single largest official document I had seen in my life, over twenty s
ingle spaced, double sided pages. Yet Adam sat there with me at his massive dining room table until I had read and consented to every item on every page. He was nothing if not thorough.
When the agreement had been made and my consent secured, he handed me a pen. It was the most exquisite example of the form I had ever seen.
“It’s gorgeous,” I said.
“It was custom made for the playwright Noël Coward,” Adam said, a ring of pride in his voice.
I tried to keep my hand from shaking as I signed on the spot indicated. The fact that I was basically holding history was not helping much.
“Stand up,” Adam ordered, returning the pen to his pocket.
I obeyed a bit too vigorously, nearly thwacking my knees under the table. It wasn’t the best way to start, but if Adam noticed, he didn’t let on.
He moved around me, stroking his hand down my back. I arched at his touch, unused to such intimate human contact. He moved to my head and softly stroked my head from the crown to the base of my braid.
“Do you submit yourself to me?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Body and will?” he asked.
“I-I do,” I replied.
“Swear it.”
“I swear that I submit myself to you in body and will,” I said, a thrill shuddering through me.
“Good girl,” he whispered right into my ear as if he was going suck my earlobe.
Not that I would have minded that at all.
I heard the creak of the leather as he got something out of his pocket. I fetched the touch of raw leather on my delicate throat. I tried to see it, but it was no use. It felt like a choker necklace and there was some kind of gem in the front.
“It’s black onyx. It is supposed to be good for balance,” Adam said, putting his hands on my shoulders.
Turning me around as easily as I thought he might, he looked into my eyes while gently stroking a hand down my cheek.
“You have signed the contract. You have been collared. You are my pet.”
“Yes, Master,” I said, getting used to saying it.
Caressing his hand down my arm, he took my own hand and led me out of the dining room. I thought he was going to take me to the bedroom to fuck me until I screamed. But it turned out to be a house tour so that I would know where everything was.
I was actually quite grateful for it or I would have gotten lost for sure. It really was an astoundingly big house. There were even more rooms than it looked like from the outside. New corridors and stairwells seemed to appear out of cunningly hidden pocket dimensions like some kind of M.C. Escher painting in reverse.
The most impressive parts of the house, aside from the secret archive and massive ballroom, were the library and master bathroom, with a whirlpool tub the size of my entire apartment in the middle of the room.
Eventually, after what almost seemed like a museum tour with a similar effect on my ankles, we arrived at the master bedroom, which was the most impressive of all. My pussy walls clenched, and my panties were drenched with anticipation of the thought of what he would do to me in here. I felt as if I couldn’t wait even one more second to find out.
Chapter Nine - Adam
My skin looked strange in the soft glow of the blue lights. Still holding Morgan’s hand, I confronted her.
She was close enough that I could smell the watermelon on her breath. I kissed her. She kissed me back, our tongues wrestling for dominance. I let her win, slipping my other hand down the front of her pants.
My touch was soft but sure. She was biting her lip, likely to keep from making noise without permission.
“It’s okay, my pet,” I cooed. “You can moan.”
I fingered her to the very brink of an explosive orgasm before stopping, cupping her pussy so as to limit the shock. The slightest of sobs escaped her throat.
The sadness wasn’t long lived. Seconds later, I continued fingering her sweet little cunt, squeezing her hand as I did so. She had a cesarean scar. She tried to cover it up with her hand, but I stopped her. I guessed we all have things that we didn’t like about ourselves. But I loved everything about her gorgeous, curvy body.
Once again working her up to the very brink of climax, I kept going, releasing a glorious flood from her pussy that was so strong that Morgan’s knees buckled and sent her stumbling into my arms. I caught her, stroking her hair with the hand that had been holding hers.
“Good girl, my pet. Let yourself go as you give into pleasure as you give in to me.”
Helping her back up onto her own two feet, I removed her shirt and peeled her bra open and off in one swift move. I then took down her yoga pants, taking her panties along with them. Her naked body was majestic.
“Just look at those full tits and round ass of yours,” I told her. “They’re absolutely perfect.”
She was mine and I knew it. It was evidenced by the contract, the purpose of which was clearly a lot more than to be on the show, and her spoken pledge during the collaring ceremony.
I just stood for a moment, taking in her full glorious beauty like an art lover might with a particularly well-crafted sculpture. I could hardly believe my luck to be there with her despite the producers’ attempts to keep it from happening.
Then again, I tended to get what I wanted. ‘Fuck authority’ was the unofficial motto of my life.
Though I had already indulged her beautiful little pussy, I still got the overwhelming urge to touch her luminous skin. It was just so exquisite I couldn’t resist. So I didn’t.
Starting at her forehead, I moved down her silken cheeks and over her creamy neck to her supple shoulders. With both arms up and to her sides, I worked my way down to her hips.
My good little pet closed her eyes and hummed contentedly as I explored every inch of her. I intentionally avoided her tits, ass, and pussy, wanting to focus on everything else first.
Moving down to her feet, I finally worked my way back up her smooth legs to her ass and gave it a good, firm squeeze. It wasn’t enough to hurt but it was enough to make her feel it. The gasp that escaped her throat let me know I had gotten the balance just right. Leaning in, I alternated between her light pink nipples, tenderly rotating my tongue as I sucked.
Slowly, my caresses moved inward. My hand ended up between her luscious cheeks, massaging her tight, virgin asshole. Her breath caught in her throat.
I applied a bit more pressure, making her moan. I would have been plunging deep into her asshole while gently biting her neck, but I was holding myself back.
I knew I was in love with her, even if I kept coming up with reasons why it wasn’t possible. I hadn’t even known her very long. Still, it didn’t matter. The facts were the facts. The fact was that I loved her and got the feeling she felt the same.
It added a whole new dynamic to our engagement. I was no longer certain how far I should go or how much she could take. I usually eased newbies in slowly, but I was being even more gentle with Morgan.
In the past, I couldn’t really trust women. Not with my heart. I had done that once, and it didn’t work. The woman had only wanted me for my money. Once bitten twice shy, I suppose.
Lifting Morgan into my arms with no effort, I carried her over to the blue lit bed, her arms around my neck and head against my chest as we went.
I put her on her back. Placing her near the edge of the bed, I bent her legs at the knees. She held still, likely waiting for me to let her know what to do.
Stroking her thighs, I could see gentle ripples of pleasure run up through her as I spread her legs. Her wet little pussy was on full display. Caressing her inner thighs, I lowered myself to my knees. My head followed along, my mouth landing on her pussy.
The strokes of my tongue were long and gentle, taking occasional flicks against her rock-hard clit and coaxing out moans from deep within her. I could tell she was trying not to shudder with pure joy, lest it throw me off my rhythm.
I cupped my hand lovingly over her pussy as she was about to cum
. Slipping my fingers inside her, I brought her to a screaming orgasm again as she came, giving her gentle, circular strokes. She kept her hands flat by her side, palms pressed against the high thread count sheet as I pleasured her.
Licking her again and adding in a finger, sliding up to the second knuckle, I worked her to the tipping edge of a second orgasm before easing off. Kissing her as she recovered, I started licking her again, fingering her deep. I actually let her cum that time. She nearly wept with sweet relief.
“That’s a good girl,” I told her. “I love how you cum for your Master.”
Leaving a hand on her belly, I reached over and pulled open a drawer on the nightstand and retrieved the handcuffs. I took both of her slender wrists in one hand and then I made her take hold of two of the thin iron bars that made up the headboard.
Opening the loops of the cuffs, I slid the chain around the bar between her hands and clamped the fur-lined circles around her wrists, tightening to the smallest setting. I gave each of her hands a gentle tug to make sure the cuffs would hold.
Running my hands down her arms and along her sides, I worked my way down her legs. Taking her by the ankles, I spread her legs wide. The ropes were silk. Eight feet each, carefully twined together like freshly opened guitar strings.
Drawing on the skills I had first learned during my two months in Boys Scouts, I knotted the end of the first rope around Morgan's left ankle and ran the other end to the corresponding post at the foot of the bed before repeating the knot tying process. Working my way back up and over her belly, I knotted the second rope around her right ankle using the same knot.
I tied the knots tight enough so they wouldn't chafe, but not so tight that they would cut off her circulation. It was a happy medium that took a while to master and why rope play was not recommended for first timers.
All practices have some sort of risk, but some have more than others, which aren't terribly obvious. Knife play and bullwhips should clearly be approached with caution. Something most people wouldn’t think of as dangerous but could lead to serious consequences was hair pulling. Not because of the hair itself, but its close proximity to the neck, which is really delicate. One pull that is too hard or at the wrong angle and it was possible to cripple someone.