The Word Master

by Jason Luke

  The doorman nodded as I went through the glass doors. “You here to see Miss Collett?”

  “Yes.”

  He started moving towards a little counter that looked like a small reception desk in a hotel. “I’ll give her a call and let her know you are on your way up.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t do that,” I said. “I want to surprise her.”

  The doorman frowned. He ran his eyes over me like maybe he was looking for concealed weapons.

  “It’s standard procedure. All visitors must be announced,” he resisted.

  I nodded. “But I’m not a visitor,” I said. “We work together. She’s already expecting me.”

  The old guy thought for a moment and must have calculated that the odds of me being an axe murderer were worth the risk of Nancy’s wrath for not letting her know I was on my way up. He nodded his head. “Sure,” he said.

  I rode up to the 9th floor in the elevator and knocked lightly on Nancy’s door.

  I heard the race of footsteps across the carpet and then the apartment door was flung open. Nancy’s face was flushed with delight and surprise. She was wearing makeup and perfume. She had a gown on, cinched tight around her waist.

  “I wasn’t sure you were still coming,” she said in a breath.

  She held the door open for me. I stepped across the threshold and pushed the door shut. I noticed an open book on the sofa and there was soft music playing in the background. The lighting was subdued. Nancy drifted across to a stereo and shut the music off. She touched at her hair and then smiled at me with genuine pleasure and relief.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she admitted shyly. “The thought of you – of the way you treated me last night – it haunts me. I can’t tell you how excited I am right now… Master.”

  She was talking, and I could see she was nervous. I hadn’t uttered a word and she felt compelled to fill the silence. I watched her with dark predator eyes, stalking her like prey.

  “Take off the gown.”

  Nancy’s smile faltered into silence. She tugged obediently at the cord around her waist, and then slid the fabric off her shoulders. She was wearing powder blue panties and bra. She stood self-consciously while I took my time gazing at her. She was a stunning woman – older than most I had trained – but still retaining the lithe toned curves and contours of her body. She lifted her chin slowly until our eyes met.

  “The balcony,” I said.

  She turned on her heel in a daze and went towards the glass doors. I followed her. The night was cool and a breeze flattened my shirt against my chest. I saw Nancy shudder, and I wondered if she could feel the cold, or sense the delicious anticipation.

  She stood against the waist-high balcony wall. I came up behind her and unfastened her bra. She spasmed at the touch of me – her shoulder blades cleaved together for an instant and then relaxed. The breeze tugged at the tendrils of her hair. I slipped the straps of the bra down her arms and held it dangling from my fingertip.

  Nancy’s nipples drew into hard little buds.

  I dropped the bra – let it fall away into the dark night. Nancy gave a little gasp of shock and then her body became rigid. I caressed her arm, let my fingers tease across her chest until I had the weight of one breast cupped in the palm of my hand. Nancy wavered. I felt her body press back against mine.

  “Now the panties,” I said.

  She nodded her head without hesitation. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic waistband and tugged them down her thighs. She scooped the lace up and handed it to me. The panties were damp. I held them out over the balcony railing. They fluttered in the breeze for a moment and then went sailing down into the darkness.

  “No lingerie from now on,” I said. My voice was a deep rumble, close to her ear. “From now on, you will present yourself to me completely naked. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, Master,” Nancy said. She choked down a breath of air in a tense gulp.

  “Good girl. Now spread your legs.”

  Nancy shuffled her feet apart and clung to the rail as if to brace herself. I trailed my hand along the inside of her thigh until my fingertips brushed across the heat of her pussy. She sobbed – the sound escaping her as if impossible to contain. She began to tremble. I could feel her legs begin to shake. I ran my fingers over the nub of her clit until they were slick with the wetness of her arousal, and then pushed them deep inside her.

  Nancy groaned. Her body locked into a kind of sexual seizure. I slid my fingers deeper inside her and held them there, feeling her muscles clamp and contract with a rhythmic pulse.

  “Look at the apartment complex across the road,” I whispered. “Can you see all the lights on?”

  Nancy bit her lip. “Yes,” she gasped.

  “Someone might be standing at their window right now. Someone might be watching us right now – it could be a couple at their window, and they’re watching you, Nancy.”

  She made another sound of strangled arousal. The soft light from the interior of the apartment haloed our figures, and there was a sky full of stars around a golden moon. Nancy lifted her head and I saw her searching the square patches of light from each window in the building across the street.

  “Maybe the couple is touching each other. Maybe the man is finger-fucking his girl right now the way I am teasing you. Or maybe it’s a man – a lonely man watching us, slowly stroking his cock as he stares at you and the way your breasts are swaying on display.”

  “Yes!” Nancy hissed. I felt the sudden tight clench of her pussy around my probing fingers and she reeled on her feet. She pushed down against my hand, still clinging to the rail and using it for leverage.

  I unzipped my jeans.

  “Reach back and stroke my cock,” I told her in a harsh whisper. “Pleasure me until I feel like fucking you.”

  Nancy’s fingers were frantic. She was grinding her hips, rocking her body to enhance the sensations between her thighs. She stroked me in a series of sharp urgent pulses and I felt myself swell between her fingers.

  I eased my cock against her pussy. Nancy shuddered, then paused. She was desperate to feel me inside her, but not daring to move without instruction. I kept her waiting for long drawn out seconds.

  “Your mystery man will be so hard by now,” I teased. “He would be slowly stroking himself, trying to draw out the pleasure. Maybe he’s waiting – waiting until he sees you throw back your head and scream with your release before he comes – maybe he’s aching to come with you…”

  I lunged with my hips and my cock slid deep inside her with a single stroke. Nancy’s mouth fell open and she sighed. I dug my fingernails into the smooth flawless flesh of her back and scraped them down her spine, setting off a shock of electric tingles so that she arched her body and pushed back onto me until we were locked together around a rush of her wet arousal.

  “Oh, god…!” it was a tortured sob – a mixture of desire and relief. Nancy slowly swiveled her hips until the length of me filled her completely.

  “Now fuck me,” I hissed. “Slowly. Give your mystery man the show of his life. Let him know what a sexy submissive slut you are. Think about him watching us as you grind on me… and then let him hear you scream when you explode.”

  Nancy grunted – and then tensed the muscles in her arms and shoulders. She lowered her head, staring down into the dark void, and then gradually she began to impale herself on my cock – each slide of her body along the length of my shaft an exquisite torture of arousal and concentration.

  I did nothing to help. I stood with my legs braced and I gripped lightly at her hips. Nancy was going to earn her orgasm.

  She used the railing as leverage, gripping so tight and pushing with her arms that her knuckles began to turn white. She was gasping and moaning with every lunge until her legs began to weaken into an uncontrolled tremble.

  She was nearing the edge – teetering precariously on the brink of explosive relief. I snatched at a handful of her hair and pulled her head u
p so that the world could see her face twisted in ecstasy.

  “Come for me!” I snapped, “And cry out so everyone knows.”

  Nancy gasped. Her lungs filled with air and then the sound of her climax was driven from her in a ragged series of primal groans and rasping sobs. Her body convulsed. Her knees collapsed.

  I held her upright as the waves of her orgasm flailed at her and then – when her body went soft and she was barely able to stand – I carried her in my arms to the bedroom…

  When I stepped out of the elevator two hours later I had a duplicate key to Nancy’s apartment in my hand, and the scent of her sex, like cologne on my clothes. The old doorman was waiting for me. He had his hands bulged deep in his pockets. I nodded cordially and headed for the double glass entry doors.

  “What kind of work do you do?” he called to me suddenly.

  I stopped and regarded the man. “I’m a radio announcer,” I said.

  “At Miss Collett’s radio station?”

  “Yes.”

  The doorman made a surprised face. “Really?” his eyes were twinkling within a fine web of wrinkles. “So she’s your boss, right?”

  I nodded. “That’s right.”

  There was a moment of silence. Finally the man brought his hands from his pockets. In one hand was Nancy’s bra, and in the other hand were her panties – the garments I had dropped over the balcony.

  “These fell on the walkway steps, right outside the doors,” the man said curiously, with no change to his expression that would betray his thoughts. He held up the lingerie like they were prize exhibits from a crime scene. “And I heard a woman cry out…”

  I said nothing. The old man’s gaze was enigmatic. “I figured you might like to return them to the lady, y’know.”

  I nodded. The doorman looked hard at me and I looked back at him, an understanding exchanged between us without a word being necessary.

  “You keep them,” I said at last around a knowing smile. “The lady won’t be wearing lingerie any more.”

  Chapter 25.

  When I went into the radio station on Monday evening, April was prowling the corridor, waiting for me. She had her arms wrapped around herself like she was restrained in an imaginary straight-jacket, and there were livid spots of color on her cheeks. She came down the passage towards me, holding up her cell phone like it was a weapon.

  “Have you seen or heard from Nancy fucking Collett?” April fumed as she came closer.

  I chose my words carefully. “Not today,” I shook my head.

  “Well I fucking have!”

  I’m an intuitive guy – I pay attention. My super sharp instincts told me that April was pissed, and that Nancy was the problem.

  Clever guy, right?

  April thrust her cell phone into my hand. “Read that!”

  I looked down at the phone. There was a text message – just a few lines. I ran my eyes over the message that Nancy had sent, and then looked up at April. She was hopping from one foot to the other in agitation.

  “So?” I asked.

  “So? So?” April looked incredulous. “She’s up to something.”

  I frowned and looked back at the message. I read it again. Maybe I wasn’t as clever as I thought because it seemed perfectly harmless.

  “She congratulated you for the work you are doing and said she trusts your professionalism…” I looked bewildered. “I don’t get it…”

  April snatched her phone back and buried it deep in her handbag. “I don’t get it either, but there’s something there,” she insisted. “Something unwritten between the lines that I –”

  She stopped abruptly at the sound of a door slamming closed. It was Grover. He was coming out of one of the editorial offices, and there was a sheepish expression on his face. He had the binoculars in his hand. He smiled at April, nodded at me.

  I nodded back at the creep.

  Chapter 26.

  It only takes one minor issue to cause a backlog of problems in the world of radio broadcasting. Usually what suffers is the schedule. At the start of the program we had difficulties with the phone lines. That meant April had to program more commercials and music. By the time we were due to begin the sub-club segment, the entire four-hour play-list had gone out the window.

  “We’ve got maybe forty-five seconds!” April choked. She was flapping around the studio frantically, stabbing her fingers at the keyboard and talking to Grover in the booth through the intercom at the same time. The phones still weren’t online, and I could see Grover with his cell phone pressed to his ear through the glass, talking to technicians.

  I went hurriedly across the studio and tugged down the vertical blinds to isolate the studio, then plugged in the jack for the hand-held mic. April hurled her pillow onto the floor and undressed faster than Superman in a phone booth. She was panting as she scraped hair from her face and tried to settle herself.

  She was wearing black panties and matching bra. I noticed a couple of small bruises on the back of her thigh. They weren’t the marks of physical abuse… they were more like the telltale signs of some light BDSM experimenting. I figured April and Renata had spent the weekend exploring the kink of submission – but I said nothing.

  “Can I still touch you – without it being intimate?” I asked quickly.

  April nodded her head, “Of course.”

  I stole a glance at the clock. Ten seconds remained before we were live. I snatched up the mic and stood in the middle of the studio floor, close behind where April knelt.

  Familiar jazz music drifted out through the speakers.

  “Hello my sexy sub-club members and welcome to a new week of submitting to your on-air Master,” my voice slipped instinctively down an octave and my speech slowed so that it sounded as if I was talking to each listener personally. “I hope you are going to be good girls for me tonight.”

  I waited a couple of beats and glanced down at April. Her back was straight, her hands clasped behind her.

  “I trust you are kneeling comfortably and prepared. Tonight you will need two tapered candles… You have one minute to be ready for me.”

  I leaned across the desk and thumbed a key. Commercials were cued to play. April looked up at me, puzzled.

  “Do I need a candle?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “Not for what I have in mind.”

  I said nothing more. The jingle at the tail end of the last commercial went to air, and then the loop of jazz music picked up from where it had left off.

  “I need you undressed tonight,” I announced in a lust-filled whisper. “I want you to take off your bra and your panties – I want to see how sexy you are.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, counting in my head, and figuring how long I should allow for listeners to get undressed. When I looked again, I saw April. She had her bra off, her milky, perfect breasts free, and she was reaching for her panties. I shook my head and trapped her wrist. She read the message in my eyes but shrugged her shoulders off-handedly.

  “You can see as much on any beach,” she mimed.

  She left her panties on and sank back down to her knees.

  “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you,” I declared over the airwaves. “Tonight will be the first night – the first of many to come. I want you on your hands and knees, your legs spread wide. Reach back with your fingers and play with your pussy – you know how much I love it when you’re wet for me.”

  In the fraught, sexually charged silence that ensued, April settled herself on her hands and knees and reached back to rub herself through her panties. She circled her clit with her fingertips, and the wispy fabric clefted between the lips of her pussy as she steadily increased the pressure of her touch.

  I watched mesmerized. April began to rock slowly. Her breasts swayed. She arched her back and for an instant her nipples grazed across the carpet. She let out a whispered gasp of arousal.

  I dropped onto my knees behind her.

  “When you’re wet and ready for
me, I want you to use the second candle and imagine it’s your Master’s cock,” I said into the mic, striking a balance between issuing the instructions and filling my voice with the raw kind of desire a woman would expect from their real-life Master. “Tease yourself. Rub the candle over the lips of your sex and clit until you’re aching. That’s what I want – I want you to ache for me to fuck you. I want you to sob with a desperate desire.”

  I paused for another long beat of silence while I visualized women across Boston strumming the sensitive nub of their clits until they were beginning to tremble.

  “Now,” I said. “I want you to feel me enter you. I want you to slide your Master’s cock deep inside your pussy and then begin to push back against me. I want you to give me the fuck of my life as you feel my shaft slide in and out of your pussies. Moan if you must. Thrash your head from side to side… call out my name as you take yourself to the edge of climax.”

  With my free hand I reached for April’s hip and pulled her back against the bulge within my jeans. She croaked in surprise and then lowered her head. I pushed against her and she pushed back until we were simulating sex, and she began to grind harder and harder, thrusting with the strength of her arms. Her breasts swayed as if to the beat of a mesmerizing dance. She growled. The soft sound of her bottom slapping against my hips was muffled by the rising thrill in the back of her throat.

  “Imagine us locked together,” I said. “Think about me driving my cock between your thighs, filling your tight sweet pussy with every lunge. Imagine my hungry eyes on you – watching the arch of your back and the tremble of your shoulders – the hypnotic sway of your beautiful breasts as you impale yourself again and again and again…”

  April’s braced elbow began to buckle. She whimpered. She was close to the edge of her orgasm. Her body became incredibly still, just the rhythmic movement of her arm as her fingers played across her pussy.

  “I want you to come for me!” I hissed the order. I dug my grip into the flesh at April’s waist and held her against me. She gasped out a long choke of breath and then threw her head back so her face was lifted to the studio ceiling.