by Jamie Knight
Angela Weiss. She introduced herself to me as Angie, and we shook hands. I tried to remember what she had written, rifling through my internal filing cabinet at near light speed.
Suddenly I found her. She was the nature-loving UCLA graduate who had won a programming award at 19 and had made a point of how young and healthy she was. I was certainly interested in finding out how accurate that was.
We made small talk, and I went through the usual set of questions, Angie giving the right answers to all of them. Suddenly, I noticed something I should have spotted right away. Angie was wearing a corset under her shirt. For me not to have noticed it meant it must have been a custom job, fitting her figure perfectly.
“Did you build your corset yourself?” I asked.
“Oh! Yeah,” she said, appearing surprised but still jumping up and lifting her shirt to show me her handiwork. “It took weeks, but I figured I might as well do it right.”
“Very nice,” I said, not just talking about the corset.
Angie sat back down and lowered her shirt, her look of slight embarrassment unmistakable. I didn’t think this was the first time something like this had happened. It wasn’t that I thought Angie to be an exhibitionist, just someone who was really proud of what she was able to do. Nothing wrong with that.
“Sorry,” Angie tried.
“Oh, don’t worry. It is a really nice piece.”
“You think?”
“Definitely.”
“Thanks! I’ve been at it a couple of years. I just made my first full costume a month ago. I dabbled in clothes before that. Did a Norse coat and walking skirt before I even attempted the corset.”
I wanted her. So much I could feel it. And not just in the sudden swelling in my designer jeans. However, the question still stood as to whether she could do all that I would require of her. I had little doubt of her fitness physically, but I didn’t want to traumatize the girl.
“I want you,” I said. “To come with me, that is.”
“Great! Though, I’ve been wondering what the ‘extra duties’ are.”
“Aye, there’s the rub,” I smiled wryly. “When we are there, I will need all my needs met. And I have some pretty specific and demanding needs. Sexual needs.”
“Oh,” she said, blushing.
“Do you know what a pet is?” I asked. “Someone who will be submissive? Who will let a man be dominant to them?”
“I think so.”
“That’s what the extra duties are. It would mostly be a work arrangement, but I will also need you to help me with release. Something that takes a particular sort of... engagement.”
“Okay.”
Okay was all I needed to hear.
I had found my new traveling assistant/pet and I couldn’t wait to start putting her to use.
Chapter Four
Angie
I had never been so turned on. I crossed my legs as soon as I sat down, trying to make it look natural so he wouldn't suspect how wet my pussy was. Just being in his presence was enough to make me horny as hell.
Somehow, I managed to keep myself together enough to engage in small talk and give what seemed to be the right answers to all his questions. Except, of course, when he asked if I’d made my corset myself.
Like a goof, I went and pulled my shirt up to show him. All the way up! He had seen most of what I had of note from the waist up, under my corset, anyway. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, though. Maybe that was the right answer after all.
I wondered after if that had been the clincher in him saying he wanted me to go with him and be his executive assistant/sex slave. At least that was what I assumed he had meant by “pet.” I really didn’t know much about it.
I fumbled through the rest of the interview, my dignity more or less intact, getting out into the main cubicle farm just in time for lunch. Taking a deep cleansing breath and ignoring the sensitivity of my rock-hard nipples, I headed down to the building’s on-site cafe.
There were rumors of a law firm down in L.A. that had popularized the idea of on-site restaurants, supported by the partners. These places gave even more people gainful employment, as well as provided their colleagues and underlings a place to get decent coffee without even leaving the building. Real philanthropists, those bigshots were.
“Saw Handsome Vik, did you?”
Sara sat down across from me, knowing that she didn’t need an invite. We had a standing arrangement. The same went for our apartments and cars. We had known each other since we were three, after all, and she had yet to let me down. We even started at the firm on the same day.
“I was in a meeting actually.”
“One-on-one?” Sara asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah, but it was nothing inappropriate. At least on his end.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that. It’s just I didn’t think he did those. What do you mean, on his end?”
“I might have accidentally flashed him my corset.”
“Accidentally?” Sara raised an eyebrow at me.
“He noticed I was wearing it through my shirt, so I lifted my shirt to show him. You know how proud I am of it.”
“Of course.”
“Anyhoo, I lifted a bit too high and wasn’t really wearing a bra.” I blushed remembering.
“Oh! What did he say?”
“‘Very nice.’ Though to be fair, he could have been referring to the corset.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.”
“You do?”
“I’ve seen you naked, remember?” It would have been hard not to after more than 20 years of friendship, so maybe Sara had a point.
“True.”
“What did he want to see you about anyway?”
“Getting out of the city during the lockdown and going out to his personal cabin way up in the mountains to finish the project.”
“Oh, yeah, I got the email.”
“Why didn’t you apply?”
“I’m not qualified,” Sara said, shrugging.
“How do you know?”
“Do you know about Vik? His, uh, reputation?” Sara asked.
“You mean the S&M stuff? Yeah, he told me. I’m cool with it, I think.”
“Do you know what he means?”
“Whips and chains, I assume,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“No, at least not from what I’ve heard. He’s a lot more mellow than that. He does like some bondage, but not chains that I’ve heard about, and he’ll spank but not whip. His big thing is apparently control. What they call power exchange, in which you give control of your whole self over to him. I heard he also likes rough sex. Particularly anal.”
I tried to process all of what Sara was telling me. I was happy about the lack of whips and chains, and pretty sure I could handle some regular bondage and spanking. The power-exchange thing actually sounded really sexy, if I was being honest. I got the feeling from Vik that he wouldn’t do anything without my consent.
Which brought me to the anal. I hadn’t even lost my regular virginity, let alone my backdoor virginity. I’d given a blowjob or two in college just for the experience but that was it. Generally, I was too busy with studying and going to conventions and stuff. Still though, if I was going to lose my virginity, I couldn’t think of a man I knew who I would rather give it up to than Vik. That included him popping my anal cherry too.
“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” Sara asked, able to read me like a book.
“Yeah, I mean I really want to. Even after he told me about the pet thing it didn’t put me off much. He told me to think about it and let him know by tonight.”
“Well, you should know that his pets tend to be pretty short-term. He doesn’t really go in for repeat engagements, if you know what I mean.”
“You don’t think I should go?” I asked.
“I think you should be really careful. Don’t go giving your heart and your body to someone who doesn’t deserve them. Those are too precious, darling.”
“How old
were you when you lost your virginity again?”
“Fifteen, and to a jerk-face who hurt me, and I have regretted it ever since.”
Sara did make a convincing point. As much as I wanted to get close to Vik, there was still a good chance someone as inexperienced as me might end up falling in love with him. I’d certainly had a crush on him long enough. It could get messy if I wanted a relationship, he couldn’t give me. But there was no way of knowing that for sure, and it was worth the risk to me.
The money was great, and the promise of physical intimacy with the sexiest man on Earth was just an added bonus. I decided to go for it and see what would happen, reminding myself it was mostly for the money and the chance to get up into the mountains. I decided to wait until I got home to call Vik. I knew I would be unable to keep the girlish excitement out of my voice.
Chapter Five
Vik
The sterling example of sleek, chrome engineering did its little gurgling dance on the counter. While the joe brewed, I did my best to calm myself, retreating to my inner realm.
I was careful to hold back my expectations about the time I would be spending with Angie, still not sure she could handle everything we would be doing, but also cautiously excited.
She really did seem great and sincere about her willingness to try anything once. The short call we had had the night before only further cemented that impression on me.
It might seem odd that I could tell this from a half-hour meeting and a five-minute phone conversation, but I had done a bit of research on the applicants before meeting them. I also have a strong knack for reading people, and I don’t mean just guessing based on their expressions or body language or other such quasi-scientific hoo-hah.
Sure, those help, but not nearly to the extent most people think. I read emotions. Or, more accurately, feel them as they come off of other people. A rare ability, actually supported by science, known as “empathic reading.”
Getting my mind calmed and my senses heightened, I downed the entire cup of espresso and got dressed for the day. I opted for a theme of backwoods utility, with hard denim jeans and a traditional lumberjack shirt.
The theme continued all the way down through the garage. My primary vehicle at the time was a vintage BMW, but I also kept a performance SUV for trips up the mountain, since the roads up there were mostly dirt with turns beyond hairpin-class. There wasn’t much room in the backseat, and even with the driver’s seat pushed back as far as it could safely go my legs were still somewhat cramped under the steering wheel.
I was early getting to Angie’s building. Then again, she was late coming out of it, so it all evened out in the end. She hurried up to me with a backpack and a suitcase, putting the former in the backseat and the latter in the trunk before getting in.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“I’m used to it,” I said.
“It took longer than I thought to pack.”
“Which you shouldn’t have done at all. Everything has been provided for you at the cottage.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“You weren’t to know. Open your mouth.”
Without hesitating, Angie did what I told her. Gently massaging her lymph nodes, I inspected the back of her mouth and then felt her forehead. I wanted to satisfy myself that she didn’t already have the virus before we left. She appeared to be clean.
I pulled out onto the freshly paved road, trying to get out to the highway before the rush started. It was the last day before the lockdown took effect and anyone else who was going to be getting out would be leaving within an hour’s time.
I turned on the radio, letting whatever came on play, no matter how bad. It turned out to be a song by Greig. Angie didn’t seem to mind it and didn’t try to change the station.
I smiled a bit. It had been a test to gauge her level of obedience. I would have seen how easily she accepted my choice of pizza topping, the only true test of submission, but we were short on time.
“Choose the station,” I said.
Again, at my word, she leaned over, her cleavage showing quite clearly in the top of the tank top she was wearing and adjusted the tuner. It went past rap, country, Top 40, the stay mercifully brief in each case. Suddenly the melodic power of a familiar metal song, Nightwish, started to pound from the absurdly expensive sound system and Angie stopped.
“I love this song,” she commented.
I tried to keep my surprise to myself. I hadn’t come across many Americans who were into European metal. Or metal at all, for that matter. I tried to take a read of her emotional resonance as we went. I needed to get an idea of her mind space as she drove with a man she barely knew to his cabin deep in the mountains while listening to symphonic metal. All I got was a strong sense of both calm and joy.
The view only got better the higher we went. Angie was glued to her window like a kid on their first airplane flight. I couldn’t help but wonder what she would think of the cottage.
Technically the company owned it. At least as far as the tax man was concerned. To be fair, I did do a lot of work out there. Even more than I got done at the office, actually. It seemed fair to write it off as a business expense.
The property was surrounded by a ten-foot stone wall, installed by a fifth-generation stonemason whose ancestors had worked on some of the finest estates in Britain, including those of the lower-level aristocracy. The two halves of the wall were joined at the front of the cottage by an automatic gate made out of wrought iron. I pushed the button set into the car’s visor, the gates slowly opening as the SUV rolled up.
What the cottage lacked in height, it made up for in width. Its classic single-floor design boasted just over 3,000 square feet of interior space.
“It’s beautiful,” Angie whispered.
Leaving her suitcase in the SUV, we headed for the cottage. The gate whirred shut behind us, locking the world out.
“Your room is on the right,” I said, punching the entrance code into the keypad by the door. “Go in there and change.”
“Okay,” Angie said, without a note of reservation in her voice.
As Angie went to her assigned room, taking off her backpack as she walked, I stripped down to my boxers and did some stretches to work out the kinks I had acquired on the drive up. When I could finally move without wincing, I went down the corridor to my new pet’s room.
“Are you ready?” I asked from outside the door.
“Yeah.”
She was sitting on the bed clad only in the black silk robe I had laid out for my next pet the last time I had been up here. I scanned her carefully, finding her much the same as I had the day before. The only surprise was that both her fingernails and toenails were kept natural.
I moved closer, gently turning her neck for a closer look, and noticed that aside from some lipstick, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Taking a wet wipe from the box on the bedside table, I wiped it off, so I could see her how she really was. I carefully slipped off her glasses, knowing that she was near-sighted but still able to see everything up to my current range.
“Lie down.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, obeying immediately.
I slipped one of the extra pillows under her hips, raising them up. When she was in a suitable position, I carefully untied the belt of the robe, opening it wide. She had taken off everything, including her corset.
I could see the subtle, red lines where it had constricted her. I ran a finger along them, making her hum gently. Stroking my hands down over her legs, I took her firmly by the ankles, parting them.
Her pussy was even prettier than I had expected. Pink and delicate, already wet with excitement.
Getting the bottle of lube from the bedside table, I put some on my fingers and slid the first into her. It was tough going, with Angie gasping and raising her ass in the air as my finger went in, her pussy lips squeezing hard and tight against me.
She was telling the truth when she said that she was young and healthy. She had, however, left out
the part about being a virgin.
Snapping on a glove, I bent her knees back to her chest and slipped a finger into her asshole, or at least I tried to. Unsurprisingly she was an anal virgin too.
Her pristine little asshole was even tighter than her perfect little pussy. I would have to break her in slowly, but that was fine. I would be able to do everything I was planning once I got her ready, and I am nothing if not patient.
We weren’t getting out of here for a long time, after all.
Chapter Six
Angie
Once I woke up, it took a minute to remember where I was. When I did, I smiled. Particularly when I remembered the view on the drive up. I figured there would be a lot of work to do. We certainly hadn’t done any the day before, it apparently being a travel day, which was fair enough.
As was what Vik had done when we got there. It had taken a while for me to figure out why he was being so reserved and deliberate in the way he touched me.
At first it felt like an inspection, but then I realized that he was gauging what I could take so he wouldn’t end up hurting me by accident. I wasn’t really into the bad kind of pain, but I was pretty sure I could take the fun sort pretty well.
I was naked under the covers. Vik had removed the fine silk robe before putting me to bed, insisting that I sleep bare. Far be it from me to question him -- he was the boss, after all, as well as the master -- but I had a pretty good idea why he wanted that anyhow.
I’d never really slept in the nude before. My paranoia that a fire might break out in my sleep had always been a bit too strong, but the experience last night had been pretty interesting. I was a lot more aware of my body when I was able to feel everywhere the luxurious sheets touched me.
My assigned outfit for the day was hanging on the chair across from the bed: a sexy skirt that was short-but-not-too-short and a very cute blouse. There was no underwear to be seen, so I assumed I was meant to go commando. Probably so he could spank me when the urge struck. I shivered a little at that thought.