Domination Inc.

by Drusilla Leather

  ‘You can’t begin to believe how beautiful you look, bound and helpless like that,’ Lawson began. ‘Truly an angel, indeed. There’s just one more thing I need to do...’ As he spoke, his fingers flicked at the clasp that fastened Laurel’s bra. It sprang apart, and Laurel felt her breasts fall free of the lacy cups.

  ‘Mouth-watering,’ Lawson continued. ‘Though perhaps I should remove those panties from your mouth for a moment, just so you can tell me why it is that your nipples are so hard and stiff, and why I can see the merest hint of your juices glistening at the entrance to your pussy. Could it be that sitting there in bondage, with all your little secrets on display, is actually turning you on, Miss Angell?’ He laughed to himself. ‘I’d heard that the girls at your agency were particularly submissive, but I had no idea their boss was of the same persuasion.’

  Laurel mumbled into her silken gag. She wanted to deny his accusations, but she knew he spoke the truth. Deep down, she knew she was as submissive as Cindy, and there was a part of her which had longed to be placed in this humiliating position. But whatever her sexual feelings, it was more important that she found out what Lawson wanted. When he pulled the panties out of her mouth, she spat, ‘Just what do you think you’re going to achieve by doing this?’

  ‘All in good time,’ Lawson replied. ‘We know we owe you an explanation.’

  We? Laurel thought, then heard the soft sound of feet moving over the library’s plush carpet, and realised with a shock that there was a third person in the room. She had no idea from the muted footfalls whether they had been joined by a male or a female. How long had whoever it was been standing there silently – and how much had they seen? Although, Laurel conceded, that would have been nothing in comparison to what they could see now, as she sat in passive bondage with her breasts and quim uncovered. She shivered, unable to control her reaction.

  ‘Who’s with you?’ she asked.

  ‘A friend,’ Lawson told her. He was moving as he spoke, and Laurel turned her head to follow him, becoming aware that he was now standing behind her. ‘That’s all you need to know for the moment. But it might make things a little clearer if I tell you that you have something which rightfully belongs to this friend – and they’d like it back.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Laurel replied.

  ‘Well, let’s see if we can jog your memory between us…’

  Laurel felt a hand flick across her nipples, the soft touch enough to make them peak almost painfully. In spite of her vulnerable position, she was growing increasingly turned on, and when the hand was joined by a second, cupping and squeezing her breasts, she could not prevent herself sighing with undisguised pleasure.

  The pleasure faded as a third hand joined in the ministrations, a long index finger trailing down the cleft between her breasts, across the gentle swell of her stomach and into the soft red-gold curls that covered her mound. She had been so wrapped up in Lawson’s caresses that she had forgotten about his ‘friend’, but now she was all too aware that the two of them were not alone. It was a man’s finger, she thought frantically, as it skimmed across the slick surface of her labia; either that, or it belonged to a woman who kept her nails trimmed short. Could it be Lawson’s wife? she wondered. And then she caught the merest whiff of a spicy, defiantly male cologne, and banished all thoughts of Louisa Lawson.

  ‘Now, Laurel,’ Lawson muttered. ‘Let’s talk about that valuable possession of yours…’

  The inquisitive finger was now circling Laurel’s clitoris, causing her to question exactly which possession Lawson was alluding to. The touch was sure and skilful, designed to bring her to the brink of orgasm with, it seemed, almost minimal effort. If the hands which were stroking and teasing her had belonged to Joe and Warren, as a bedazzled part of her brain could not help hoping, she would surely have climaxed at least once by now. And if those fingers had been replaced by two warm, eager mouths, one suckling at her aching nipples and the other licking every inch of her pussy… Laurel writhed in her bonds, trying to push her breasts and sex closer to the hands which fondled them.

  As suddenly as they had begun, the caresses stopped. Laurel’s body slumped, as she realised just how far she had been prepared to let Lawson and his accomplice go. Tension prickled between her legs.

  ‘This is what you want, isn’t it?’ Lawson’s voice was rich and soft in her ear. ‘Here you are, tied and blindfolded, with two virtual strangers doing exactly what they want to your body, and you’re so wet you’re dripping like a juicy peach. It’s such a beautiful picture, I’m tempted to photograph it and keep it for posterity.’

  ‘No, please…’ Laurel begged. ‘Just tell me why you’re doing this – or at least stop teasing me.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no teasing here. This is all deadly serious, I can assure you. I told you that you have something my friend wants – and we’re going to make sure you give it to him.’

  So it definitely was a man who was the silent partner in this encounter. Had that been an unintentional slip on Lawson’s part, or was he trying to raise the stakes by making Laurel aware of the true extent of her predicament? Another ruthless, dominant man like Lawson could soon have Laurel begging for mercy – if that was their intention.

  When the hand slipped back between her widely-parted thighs and began its explorations once more, it was obvious they intended her to beg for something. A few swift strokes of the soft pad of the man’s finger across Laurel’s already sensitised clit and she was back on the verge of orgasm. Lawson had talked of photographing her, and she imagined what a picture she would make at this moment. Despite the fact that she was blindfolded, it would be obvious from the way her neck arched and her mouth was open that she was being taken to the heights of ecstasy, and her pale skin would be suffused with the mottled, rosy flush that signified the approach of her climax. With the finger working busily at her little bud – and, she realised, a second and third stretching open the pouting mouth of her sex – it would be a sight to grace any collection of erotic art. A stranger was forcing her to come, controlling the depth of her reactions, and she was loving every moment of it.

  Which was when the stimulation stopped again, leaving Laurel panting in frustration. The message was clear: Lawson and his friend could give pleasure, or withhold it as they chose. What she did not understand was why they were treating her in this way.

  ‘No more games, Laurel. I think it’s time I introduced you to my friend,’ Lawson said. He unknotted the scarf that covered Laurel’s eyes, and whisked it away. She blinked as her vision adjusted to the soft light, then her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw who was kneeling in front of her, licking his fingers thoughtfully. The moustache had gone, and the hair was a rich copper, rather than its original light brown, but there was no mistaking her erstwhile business partner, Roger Preston.

  ‘You!’ Laurel exclaimed. ‘What the bloody hell are you playing at? Where have you been? Do you know what I’ve been through since you disappeared?’

  Roger smiled, as though he was enjoying a joke he was not prepared to share. ‘Oh yes, I know exactly what you’ve been up to. Your fame has spread all the way to Los Angeles, would you believe? I must say, I admire your fortitude, working so hard to build the agency back up like that. Any other girl would have given up and gone bankrupt. But then you’re not like other girls, are you, Laurel?’ His finger went to his mouth again. ‘You taste delicious, by the way. And I never thought you’d have quite such a beautiful cunt.’

  ‘I don’t want your compliments, Roger. I just want you to untie me, and let me go.’

  ‘All in good time.’ Roger stroked her hair away from her face, where it clung in sweat-dampened tendrils. ‘You see, sweetheart, I never wanted to let the agency go, not really. It was just that we’d reached a stage where it was more... expedient if I bowed out of running it for a while.’

  ‘Yes, bowing o
ut so completely that no one would ever know you’d been involved. You were quite prepared to let me lose everything, you bastard, and now you stand there, calm as you like, and talk about expediency.’ Laurel itched for her hands to be freed, so that she could slap the self-assurance from Roger’s face.

  ‘But I knew I could leave everything in your safe hands, sweetheart.’ Roger’s voice dripped with the charm Laurel remembered well. ‘And you didn’t let me down. I tell you, you’re getting rave reviews on the Internet – you must have them queuing up for our services.’

  ‘They aren’t our services,’ Laurel retorted. ‘You took your name off all the deeds. You don’t have a stake in the agency any more.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Roger said. ‘I have copies of all the original documents. You and me, equal partners, just as it should be. Just as it will be from now on.’

  Laurel shook her head. ‘Joe Gallagher’s my partner now. He bailed me out when you fled.’

  ‘Joe Gallagher?’ Roger pretended to cast around in his memory for a moment. ‘Ah, yes. Your old friend, PC Hopalong. How is the dear boy? Still limping his way through life?’

  ‘Joe’s fine,’ Laurel snapped, stung by Roger’s snide reference to Joe’s accident. ‘Like I said, we’re partners now. We have all the deeds, drawn up in both names, so I’m afraid those documents of yours aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.’

  ‘Oh, Laurel.’ Roger sighed. ‘I did hope you were going to make this easy for me. After all, a few moments ago you seemed so willing.’

  ‘Our partnership’s over, Roger. It was over the day I found out you’d skipped the country and left me with a pile of debts. Why should I want anything to do with you now?’

  ‘But we were so good together.’ Roger’s hand stroked down Laurel’s cheek and caressed the nape of her neck. ‘This is our chance to start again. To put our partnership on a whole new footing.’

  Laurel shivered. What was he suggesting? That they become not only business partners once more, but lovers, too? The idea was unthinkable: even if she had felt any desire for him, too much had happened since he had walked out on the agency. She could never regard him with any affection again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Roger. I can’t do what you want,’ she replied.

  ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’ His hand was on her breast now, stroking the nipple, which still ached from its earlier stimulation. ‘Don’t forget, you’re not the only person who’s involved here. After all, there’s your little friend Cindy to think of, too. Did Clive not mention that his wife is an accomplished dominatrix? She may not charge for her services, unlike our staff…’

  Laurel could not help flinching at Roger’s repeated use of the word ‘our’. She wanted to fight him every inch of the way to deny him access to the agency. And yet, if by holding out against him she was placing Cindy in danger, what could she do?

  ‘It’s quite simple,’ Roger said. ‘I want you to agree to dissolve your partnership with Joe. And I want the half of the agency which is rightfully mine. We have plenty of time to discuss this. After all, no one will be expecting to see you before Monday morning, and if someone was to ring the agency and say you were unwell and staying with friends for a few days, who knows how long we could continue your stay here.’

  ‘And what’s in it for me and Joe?’ Roger’s touch on her breasts was arousing Laurel in spite of herself, and she fought to clear her head as she struggled with the implications of his proposal.

  Roger smiled. ‘Oh, I hear Joe has more than proved his worth as an escort, so he needn’t worry about being short of a job. And, judging by your reactions, I think you’re wasting your time sitting behind a desk all day. I’m sure there are many men who’d pay handsomely to have that lovely mouth of yours wrapped round their cock, or to spank your arse until it’s crimson and glowing.’

  ‘I won’t do it,’ Laurel said firmly. ‘I can’t betray my friends.’

  Roger shrugged. ‘Ah, well, on your own head be it. Perhaps Clive and I should go and check on what progress Louisa is making with little Cindy. If you change your mind, you only need to shout, and we’ll untie you. Until then, I think we should leave you with something that might help to persuade you that you’d be wiser to do as we ask. Clive, would you do the honours?’

  ‘Certainly.’ Clive reached into the drawer of a small cabinet, and took something from it. As he brought it over to where Laurel was sitting, she saw it was a sex toy, of the kind on sale in the more arcane shops in Soho. It was made of plastic and had a central, phallic-shaped protuberance about five inches in length. Around the base, which spread out in a wide circle, was a ring of tiny bumps, which Laurel quickly realised were designed to press against and stimulate the whole of a woman’s vulva and her clitoris.

  The two men removed the straps that fastened Laurel’s legs to the chair, and made her raise her bottom slightly, so that Lawson could insert the bizarre toy. It slid easily into Laurel’s wet sex, and was pushed firmly home before her legs were secured in place once more. Clive turned something in the base of the vibrator, which began to throb quickly, stimulating Laurel’s already overheated nerve-endings. She bucked and writhed in her seat, unable to fight the rolling tide of orgasm which threatened to engulf her. The last thing she wanted was for Roger and Clive to watch her in the throes of climax, and yet there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

  ‘You bastards!’ she sobbed, as she shuddered and came.

  ‘They’re not new batteries,’ Clive said, almost conversationally, ‘but I reckon they could power that thing for at least an hour. You still have the choice, Laurel. Agree to Roger’s demands, and we’ll switch that thing off. Refuse, and – how many orgasms do you think a woman could have in an hour, Roger?’

  Roger Preston glanced at Laurel’s resolute face. She was biting her lip as she tried to fight the sensations that were building relentlessly in her once more. ‘I don’t know, Clive, but I think we’re about to find out.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Some sixth sense had warned Cindy she was in trouble as soon as she walked into Clive Lawson’s drawing room, but when the door had been swiftly shut and locked behind her, it had been too late to act on her instincts.

  Cindy turned round to find herself confronted by a woman who stood almost six feet tall in her highly polished riding boots. She had chestnut hair coiled on her head in an immaculate French pleat, and her make-up was a perfect mask of porcelain foundation, ruby lipstick and thick black kohl, which emphasised her almond-shaped, violet eyes. She was dressed in a crisply laundered white shirt, which was tied under her small, high breasts to reveal a flat, well-toned midriff, and jodhpurs that clung to her long lean legs. In one hand she held the key to the drawing room door; with the other she tapped a riding crop nonchalantly against her thigh. Cindy glanced from the crop to the key to the woman’s unsmiling face. So this was Lawson’s wife, Louisa.

  ‘And here was me expecting a cup of Lapsang Souchong and a plate of cucumber sandwiches,’ Cindy said flippantly.

  ‘I was warned you were a cocky little thing,’ the woman replied, dropping the key she held into a tall vase of Oriental design before walking slowly towards Cindy.

  Warned? Cindy thought to herself. By who? What kind of bizarre set-up was this? She said nothing, determined to let Louisa Lawson see nothing of her puzzlement or fear.

  Louisa stopped inches away from Cindy, towering over the little blonde. She put the tip of her riding crop beneath the point of Cindy’s chin, and used it to raise her head until their eyes met. ‘Before you leave here,’ she said, ‘I’ll have taken great pleasure in beating that cockiness out of you.’

  ‘That’s what you think,’ Cindy muttered, defiance shining in her blue eyes.

  ‘Silence!’ The crop whistled ominously through the air. Cindy suppressed a shudder; this was probably her least favourite punishment implement, and she suspected th
at whoever had provided Louisa Lawson with her character assessment had informed her of this, too. Her heart sank as she realised that she and Laurel must have been betrayed by someone at Domination Inc.

  ‘That’s better,’ Louisa said, ‘but I don’t want to have to tell you again.’ She walked in a slow circle around Cindy, as if assessing her. Cindy stared mutely at the locked drawing room door, trying not to think about what might be about to happen to Laurel at the hands of Clive Lawson. It was not uncommon to find couples where both husband and wife were dominant, and she was certain they had fallen into the hands of just such a couple. In other circumstances she might have enjoyed the thought of being put through her paces by someone who showed every sign of being an accomplished dominatrix, but there was a menace in Louisa’s demeanour which negated any erotic potential in the situation.

  Louisa was back where she had started, staring at Cindy with a look of icy hauteur. She ran the riding crop idly along her palm as she spoke. ‘Undress,’ she said sharply.

  ‘No,’ came Cindy’s simple, instinctive reply. The crop slashed through the air once more, the tip quivering inches from Cindy’s left nipple. She tried not to think how it would feel if the blow had landed.

  ‘You’ll do as you’re told,’ Louisa warned her, her voice a low hiss. ‘I could shred the clothes from your back with this thing if I had to, but I’m not in the mood for that kind of game. I want you naked, Cindy. So undress.’

  ‘Or I’ll be punished, is that it?’ Cindy was determined to spin her resistance out a little longer. ‘So, how come I get the feeling that I’m going to be punished anyway? Damned if you do and damned if you don’t, right?’

  Louisa Lawson’s other hand shot out, slapping Cindy hard on the cheek. Realising she had finally overstepped the mark, Cindy reached for the button at the waistband of her PVC trousers, kicking off her shoes as she did so. Quickly, she unfastened the trousers and let them slither down her legs, aware that the other woman was watching her impatiently.