He laughed scornfully. “You think I want tainted meat like yours? No, I am claiming your soul, your conscience, not your body. At least as long as you have any interest in little Roger and Amelia."
"You would hold you own children hostage?” She looked both shocked and sickened.
"I prefer to think of it as protective custody. Girls, you may stop."
Syd and Candy winced, releasing their tortured nubs.
"I believe a thank you kiss is in order for that,” he said.
They moved to rise simultaneously.
Caine shook his head. “Not for me. For her."
"What?” Sophia was beside herself. “You can't be serious?"
"Never more so,” he assured her. “You will either give in to my whims where these girls are concerned or you will never see your children again."
"You're a monster,” she protested. “A demon."
Candy moved in first. Sophia squirmed, but the girl managed to get a tongue in the woman's ear. Simultaneously, she moved her hand to Sophia's shapely breast.
Not about to be undone, Sydney attacked from the other side, taking Sophia's face in her hands. His ex wife's resistance caved with surprising ease. Syd knew how to kiss, and how to make a kiss lead to a whole lot of other things besides. You had to kiss well to work the VIP rooms, and you had to move and fuck and suck, too, all to perfection. Men who paid for their females had high expectations, unlike boyfriends and husbands.
He himself had let Sophia get away with murder, trying to honor her place in the family. Such concessions never worked. He was beginning to wonder now if women should be free at all. Take little Erin. She was about to find a whole new level of clarity and focus in her life. No more chances for her to betray her husband. He was almost envious of what Kevin was going to end up with out of the deal. A happy, obedient slave wife.
But Caine was through with wives. And all other sorts of uppity women. Let his work with Kevin be a gift. Sure, he'd fuck his new slave wife with or without the man's permission, but he wouldn't keep her. And if he ever started to feel conflicted about things, he'd have Kevin sell her outright on the black market just to remove the temptation.
He smiled to see Sophia's nipples tenting. Women were so disgustingly easy and predictable. Horny, catty, competitive. Candy was trying to get at her mouth, to curry favor with the master. Sophia was like a ping-pong ball, back and forth between the bare breasted girls. Time to separate them out more efficiently.
Roger decided to test something in the process.
"Candy on the floor. Sophia open your legs."
"Roger, please,” Sophia protested, but the rest was lost to Sydney's greedy lips.
Candy was more than willing to assist in matters by prying the woman's legs a bit. Sure enough, she was naked under the dress.
"Still no panties, I see,” he noted dryly. This used to be a tremendous turn-on between them, but now it was nothing more than a weapon. “I'm a little surprised you still dress this way ... after what happened in court."
She made noises behind the stifling kiss. Caine's lawyers had actually used her proclivity to eschew underwear as evidence of her being an unfit mother. It was amazing how things could be twisted with the right legal representation.
"She's wet,” squealed Candy. “She's a fucking fountain."
Sydney dove in with her tongue, plundering Sophia's mouth. She wanted the credit for arousing the woman. Meanwhile Candy had her head firmly between Sophia's legs, lapping up the copious fluids.
"How does it feel?” Caine wanted to know. “To be robbed of your pride? To have your deepest intimacies splayed out for the consumption of others? I know the feeling well. My picture splashed over headlines. My marriage dissected.
"I ... I didn't do that,” Sophia protested breathless as Sydney moved to unbutton the front of her dress. “You know how the press is. They got us both."
"Don't lie to me. Not after all this. I am entitled to my revenge, and I will have it. This is your future, Sophia. This is the kind of thing you will go through every time you need something from me. And it won't just be about the kids. You'll need money, too, I know you. You can never handle poverty. Just remember the stakes go up each time. Next time you'll be fucking a man for me and after that, maybe a roomful. I will have your pride, Sophia. It's the last thing you have managed to hold back from me."
"Oh god,” she moaned. “Don't."
Syd bared the woman's braless tits, still splendid after two children. Why Sophia had worn an outfit with front buttons was a real puzzle. Was she asking for this at some level?
Candy caught on to what was going on and started working on the bottom buttons. They met in the middle, quickly parting the two halves. Roger felt his crotch tighten at the sight of Sophia's well-kept body. The flat belly, the smooth, neatly trimmed delta. The most important thing, no matter what, though, was not to fuck her. That would shift all the power back onto her and away from him.
"You'll beg me to take you back,” he predicted. “But it will never happen. Do you hear me?"
Sophia wasn't hearing much of anything. She had a mouth sucking her tit and another on her pussy. She was leaning back, moaning, her hips bucking in that way she always did when she was about to lose it. Roger had always hated that about her, the way she lost herself to a private world just before coming. It was a world he could never infiltrate, never dominate.
Even now he could feel himself being cheated of his victory. “Stifle her,” he ordered Sydney as she began to scream, oblivious to the rest of the world.
"You're a disgrace,” he said to Sophia now. “An unfit mother."
But she was only a woman at the moment, and god damn it, she was innocent, always innocent when she was orgasming.
"Hold her back,” he shouted to Candy. “Don't let her come or I'll see to it your ass ends up in a brothel in Tijuana."
Candy pulled her mouth away, like Sophia's pussy was on fire. The woman continued humping the air. Fuck, she was going to go over the edge anyway.
"Get out of my way,” Roger stormed over. Shoving the slaves out of the way, he slapped his ex-wife hard, once twice across her cheek, trying to get her attention. Finally she looked at him, her eyes full of complex pain and wonder. She didn't seem able to control herself as she reached up, putting her mouth on his.
Fucking bitch.
"Rrrroger,” she moaned.
He was kissing her back, but not for pleasure. If she wanted to fight dirty, he'd match her stride for stride. All the better, in fact, to reveal her as the pathetic, treacherous little sex animal she was.
Roger knew she'd cheated on him. He'd had his suspicions for years, no matter what she or anyone else said. Sophia was a whore, whom he'd allowed to live in his home like a lady for far too long. Hell, she wasn't half the woman these two slaves were. If he had her in the club she'd be caged and whipped a week straight to get some sense into her.
"Come you little bitch, come on my hand."
Sophia exploded, against him shuddering her release. Her eyes glazed over, signaling her slipping inward. Roger seized her nipple cruelly. He'd take it one of these times—take away her private world, burn down the walls and leave her naked for real.
But not this time. The pain only drove her to dive deeper into whatever fantasy world she lived in. Even her screams sounded like music.
And she was holding him, the way she did at times like these. He'd never understood that. Never.
"Roger,” she sighed, recovering herself. “In spite of everything, I love you. I never stopped."
Caine's eyes flashed fire. What new kind of trick was this?
"It won't work. Do you hear me? I won't be manipulated by you anymore. You lost, Sophia. No more money, no more free ride."
She shook her head. “I don't want-"
"No more talking, Sophia. I want your fingers in your cunt. I want you good and hot for what's going to come next."
Sophia started masturbating, her earlier inhibitions gone.
The fact that the two slaves were watching seemed not to matter anymore. She had eyes only for him and every time she lifted her hips, it was an offering.
He had the girls take off Sophia's heels and slip the dress off her shuddering body. Naked she was a fetching sight. Many a time had he whipped a slave thinking of his high and mighty wife. He didn't need to imagine now, though. He could entertain his every whim.
"That's it,” Roger undid his belt buckle. “I want to see you nice and worked up. Touch your nipples too. But no orgasm—you can't do that without permission."
His cock was swelling by the second. It was the control, the tight dictation of her every action. But it was like this with any woman, he told himself. Sophia meant nothing. And to prove it, he would humiliate her here and now in front of these club girls.
"Are you getting any action these days, Sophia?” He slipped the leather belt from the loops. He was going to beat her. “What's the pay like out there for hookers? What are you getting, a hundred an hour, maybe two? Tell the truth. We all know what a whore you've made of yourself."
"N—no one,” she breathed. “Only you."
"Oh, that's good,” he said sarcastically. “Quite an act. What's your encore going to be? A nice heartfelt tale of how you miss your babies so much?"
Actually, he was having a hard time not falling for her performance today. Maybe he was overtired. Maybe he needed a change of scenery. First, though, he'd give Sophia a little change of her own.
"Okay, that's enough,” he grabbed her wrist away from her pussy. “I want you down on the floor. On your hands and knees."
Sophia offered no resistance as he put her into subjugation. He'd never dominated her during their marriage, assuming it was something the proud diplomat's daughter would despise. And yet it seemed quite natural to her, even arousing.
This produced mixed feelings in Roger. His ego enjoyed the seduction, but this was a mission of spite. He wanted her uncomfortable to the nth degree.
He trailed the tip of the belt over her back. “For the next hour that you spend in this office,” he said. “You are slave."
Sophia shivered. “Yes, master."
Roger's fists clenched. Was she mocking him? “Submit,” he demanded, testing her veracity.
Her lips lowered to his shoe. “Yes, master.” Her voice was a soft whisper as she offered her tongue, pressing, licking.
Caine was nearly overcome. He struck her hard, to make her stop. And again because he wanted her to continue. “On your belly,” he commanded. “Face to the floor."
Roger's foot pushed down on her back. “I want you to remember all this, Sophia. I want you to think about it long and hard. This is your future. This is what you are to me now."
He made her crawl to the girls. Each one was ordered to spread her legs so Sophia could apply her tongue and eat them out. Roger made her squat as she worked so he could use the belt on her back and ass. Mark after mark appeared, satisfying, red and large. They formed a pattern, addictive in the making. Candy and Sydney each came loud and fast, the two girls having been more than a little aroused themselves already. He was more than a little eager to come himself, but he'd already determined this woman would never see or touch his cock again.
"That will be all,” he told her when her work was done. “Get your clothes on."
Sophia looked at him with moist eyes. “But what about..."
"I told you,” he snapped. “You'd see the children if you cooperated. I'll arrange it for this weekend."
There it was again, that complicated expression on her face; too much damned history between them and way too much unresolved estrogen. “Not them,” she whispered. “I meant ... us."
"There is no us,” Roger told her as unkindly as possible. “And the sooner you get that in your fucked up head, the better off we will all be. Now are you going to leave on your own or must I call security?"
She left without another word.
"What are you two looking at?” He demanded of the slaves afterwards.
They shook their heads. “Nothing, sir,” they said in unison.
"Liars,” he snarled. “You are all a bunch of fucking liars."
Speaking of which, it was time to get his little plan rolling to expose young Erin for the whore she was. “Lillian,” he paged. “Call Kevin Wyatt. I need to see him at noon. Tell him it's urgent."
"Yes, sir. Should I tell him to expect lunch?"
"No, he's going to take a little sightseeing trip. There's a little something I want him to see at the Willow Arms. But he doesn't need to know that. Just tell him to be here by noon."
"Yes, Mr. Caine."
Roger collapsed in his chair and unzipped his pants. “Sydney, how about a little dance for me? And Candy, let's get your lips busy."
The girls scrambled into position to serve their owner, their sexy bodies primed to please. Yes, this was more like it. Wouldn't the world be a better place if every female were a naked servile slut? Thrusting his dick into Candy's mouth he made a resolution. He would make slaves of as many of them as possible.
Beginning with Erin Wyatt.
CHAPTER FIVE
Erin was aiming for sex proof clothing. A gray pants suit with a white turtleneck and pointed half boots, her hair tied back severely. Vanity forced her to wear some makeup, but she was careful to go for the lightest shade of lipstick, a virginal pink and only minimal foundation and mascara. She intended to be all business. If she had the nerve, she'd bring a stopwatch so she could time the man. Five minutes and not a second more.
Meeting in a hotel suite ... a room with a bed ... was a bad idea. Her heart kept pounding the whole way over in the car just to remind her of this fact. Roger Caine was hard enough to resist in public places, like the Christmas party for instance, where he'd first taken possession of her hand with his lips, and later her mouth, cornering her in an alcove behind the well stocked bar.
"I don't just quote Kennedy,” he flashed that famous sly grin as he moved in for the kill.
"M—my husband...” she had time to murmur.
A minute later he released her, breathless, aroused, captivated. “Your husband,” he completed the thought. “Needs billable hours. I have more of them than I know what to do with."
That was all it took, just a little nudge to make it seem moral, super moral actually. Their first time was a quickie in the coatroom, that very night. She couldn't believe he had the balls to put her against the wall, hike up her red dress and fuck her like that, with all those people down the hall, including her darling Kevin, the man she was devoted to completely.
"Tell me,” he'd rasped in her ear. “Tell me what you need."
"Your cock,” she hissed as he stuffed her mercilessly, plundering her sopping wet hole. “I need your mother fucking cock."
Erin wrapped her slender legs around his ass, drawing him as deep as she could. Roger in turn put his hand over her mouth to stifle the screams. It was hot, unplanned, totally unprotected sex. His unsheathed penis pumping her full of seed. For weeks she sweated it out, praying she would not bear the billionaire's child.
He was more cautious the next time, renting them a room, down a hotel hallway very like the one she was now walking. That second time had been almost as unnerving as now. She could scarce believe at the time that she was going to do it, just walk right into adultery. But walk she did. In the end, she'd even run to him, craving his masterful brand of sex. But now it was time to close this chapter in her life.
Erin thought about how she was in control today. For while he might have chosen the venue, the script was of her making. Most especially her intended last words, which she'd rehearsed in her mind a thousand times on the drive over, till it was like a mantra.
Goodbye, Roger. Thank you, but goodbye.
That's how the five minutes would end, no matter what he said. Or did.
Her fingers on the doorknob were like ice. I'm not going to make it, she thought. I'm going to keel over, right here in the hallway.
&n
bsp; She was about to turn tail and run when the knob began to turn of its own accord. Erin stepped back, like she'd been shocked. To her utter amazement it wasn't Caine on the side of the door, but another man. A young man, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else.
"I—I must have made a mistake,” she said.
"No, come in,” he drawled, tensing a well-formed bicep to scratch his equally well-formed shoulder. “Mr. Caine sent me. He's going to be a little late."
Erin tried not to drool. “I don't think that's a very good idea. If you'll excuse me, I'll just get going."
"No, wait, please."
Something in his voice grabbed at her. Smoky, soulful, troubled. Not unlike how she was feeling at the moment. “Do you play?” she pointed inside to the guitar on the bed.
"I try,” he smiled. His body was quite nice, lean with good abs and a chest that was manly without being over developed.
"Aw, I'll bet you're good,” she felt herself being drawn in by his magnetism. “I bet you write songs, too."
He ran his fingers through his long, black hair. “Something like that. You coming in or what?"
Erin followed the wave of his hand. “I can only stay a few minutes ... Mr. Caine knew I was on a tight schedule."
"Whatever,” he shrugged. “Make yourself at home."
"Thank you.” She looked around. Why was he here, anyway? Was Roger bi-sexual?
"I just wrote a new song, if you want to hear it. It's not really any good."
She sat down next to him on the bed eagerly. “That's what song writers always say."
He grinned, like Caine only without all the cynicism. “I'm Troy,” he stuck out his hand, large and capable.
"Erin,” she clasped it, feeling instant warmth.
"Erin,” he repeated, making it sound more beautiful than it ought. “Are you Irish?"
"Among other things,” she blushed, feeling the smoldering heat of his stare.
Apparently the sex proof clothing wasn't working so well. Shifting uneasily, she looked at her watch. Three minutes and counting.
"I should have guessed,” he nodded. “What with your hair and all."
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