Even now as she gazed at the two men, she didn’t have a clue what to say, or how to respond. Both men were fixed on her with keen eyes and critical expressions, sitting side by side now, as Mr. Jones had taken the chair next to Darcy. She remained stock still in the center of the room some ten feet away from them, still holding up the plaid, pleated skirt to her waist. Her red ass throbbed behind her, while her glistening pussy was completely exposed to their view. The silence gripping their small tableau became profound; for Shelby it seemed to scream in her ears.
Her eyes began to fill with tears. She knew the truth about Mr. Darcy’s talk of slavery; she knew what was true about their relationship. But to have had it suddenly spelled out so blatantly, no longer couched in sensuous sounding euphemisms, made the truth a little shocking. Even he had once called her a woman of tender years who needed to be treated with some delicacy. She only wished he’d been more delicate with his rash announcement. And before a stranger…?
The fight to flee or stay returned again – even though she knew exactly how this battle would end. Mr. Darcy’s chilling statement of fact had brought her to a new level of excitement, like nothing she’d ever felt. Even if she did not yet know what slavery meant, she could not deny that this was exactly where her most outrageous fantasies led. In the dark recesses of her psyche there had always been a thrilling and peculiar place where the most foul desires cavorted unrestrained. But while being a sex slave was a wickedly delightful turn-on, to actually find herself in such a position in her real life seemed preposterous.
When she finally regained the ability to speak, she asked as a humble slave might: “What would you have me do, sir?”
The man’s face broke into a smile, seeing her statement as an act of surrender. Perhaps it was. “I’d have you bring yourself over here so I can show you off properly to my friend. I promise you, he won’t bite.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ashamed and self-conscious both, Shelby moved gingerly toward the handsome Mr. Jones.
“Turn around,” the stranger ordered, his voice had dropped to that masculine tone of command that was so easy for her to respond to.
Shelby hastened to please him, but more importantly to please Mr. Darcy, to whom she seemed irrevocably bound. Oh, never had she dreamed that her life would come to this! How could she, given her youth, desire something so extreme as slavery? Yet, at the moment, nothing seemed more natural to her than to be the object of these men’s scrutiny, her very soul judged worthy or not worthy of their time and attention. Wasn’t this what a slave would do for her master?
Shelby seemed to be following a path that had been unfolding over the past few weeks. In addition to the sex, there had been scolding lectures, and corporal punishment for mistakes she’d made in her job. At every turn she hastened to please the man, no matter what awful thing he did to her. But such a paradox. Those awful things were exactly what she seemed to live for. At night, when she went home, she’d play back her interactions with Mr. Darcy, letting them work through her imagination, finding them powerful aphrodisiacs that would send her trembling into bed where she brought herself to overwhelming orgasms.
And now, as the handsome Mr. Jones ran his hand over her punished ass and reached deep between her legs in order to pinch her sensitive labia, she felt something new in her continuing sexual awakening. She felt like no more than an object, depersonalized, deprived of her humanity, indeed, Mr. Darcy’s sex slave! A shudder of desire pierced her in the gut. Such humiliation, but such an awesome sense that this was so very right for her – and so ungodly arousing to her sexual body.
“May I?” Mr. Jones asked.
“She’s yours to use. I’m sure my little minx will give your cock a good work out.”
“And what kind of beating will she take?”
“Find out for yourself,” Darcy answered. “The whips are in my bottom drawer.”
Another beating! Her ass was still so very sore from the rough spanking she’d just endured. She’d never hold on! Never! But that was exactly what she’d attempt to do.
For the second time in one afternoon, Shelby found herself over her employer’s ebony desk. This time, she was whipped with a vicious leather tawse with falls that cut like knife blades. The dozen strikes cut pitilessly into her already sore skin. At least the thrashing was delivered quickly; and the horny Mr. Jones dispensed with further punishment in order to plunge his cock where Mr. Darcy’s cock had just been. As he forcefully moved inside Shelby’s pussy, he reached around her torso to pinch her nipples. She learned that day that even handsome men can be demented sadists.
Once the man shot his seed inside her and he withdrew, Mr. Darcy stepped in and bound her hands behind her back. Then picking up the tawse, he whipped her ass, going over the territory that had already been ruthlessly punished. When he finally stopped, he said, speaking to Mr. Jones, not her, “The skin is about to break. I prefer not to leave that kind of damage. It takes too long to heal.”
Shelby didn’t hear what the man said in reply, but she heard what her owner said next:
“I’ll pierce her cunt lips with rings tomorrow to mark her more permanently as my property.”
Another shudder of fear and thrill tripped through her body. A moment later, she heard his next command:
“Kneel with your back to me.”
At first, she didn’t understand what he wanted; a blur of emotions kept her from thinking clearly and he had to repeat himself.
“Shelby, on your knees now.”
This was completely new territory in their relationship, taking her places she’d seen only in her dreams; a command that made her quake, her frayed nerves rendering her almost unable to respond
She trembled, as scared as she’d ever been.
“Now open your blouse,” he said.
Her eyes were brimming with tears as she unbuttoned her blouse down to her waist. He’d never demanded that she bare her body for him. Oh, her ass had been bared for him plenty of times, but in her mind that was much different. This was so intimate, so personal, a very different kind of exposure. Not only that but in front of a complete stranger as well – her humiliation couldn’t have been greater. She was glad that her back was facing the two men so that she didn’t have to meet their gaze.
“Now the bra,” he said.
The bra!
Tears began streaming from her eyes as she realized how far the man might go – he might have her naked, right there in his office! After some hesitation, Shelby finally reached back, unhooked her lacy bra, and set her breasts free. Her entire body rushed with a depraved erotic thrill. Though she tried to hold back her feelings, this sudden surge of energy was too powerful to ignore.
“Not a word from you now,” he said. “Not a whimper, not a sound.”
She trembled waiting, biting her lip, her hands clinging to the sides of her skirt. Her torment was worse not knowing what was going to happen next. Then suddenly, a strong cut from Mr. Darcy’s tawse lashed across her back. She lunged forward, gulping for air.
“Straighten up!” She instantly obeyed.
The strikes came on ruthlessly from that point, maybe a dozen, maybe twenty, the number was lost in the savage sensations. Never had she experienced such pain, but by force of will, she managed to suppress her urge to scream, knowing how much this would displease him.
“This is what a slave will do for her owner. Obey without question. Offer up their body for their owner’s pleasure, whether it is their owner’s pleasure to use them sexually or inflict pain. A slave gives without question, Shelby, without hesitation, holding back their own hurt. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, fighting back her desire to cry.
Despite the pain, the fear, and her profound humiliation there was something far deeper at work here. Completely bewildering to her was the weird satisfaction she gained becoming Mr. Darcy’s slave. Yet, it also felt so right, as if she were destined for slavery, fated to be the property of a man. Mr.
Darcy had been right when they first met, that he knew her better than she knew herself.
Once she’d been used for sex and soundly thrashed, her owner suddenly returned to his initial command of her. “I believe we started today with my wanting to see you come by your own hand. Do you recall that?”
“Yes, sir.” Oh, please don’t make me do that!
“Well then, stand up and turn around.”
She could barely move to her feet, her legs were shaking so fiercely that she could hardly maintain her balance. And once she managed to turn around, she felt the men’s eyes focus directly on her bared breasts.
She turned her face away in shame.
“She has a fine body,” Mr. Jones commented, a haughty arrogance in that pronouncement.
“Indeed,” Mr. Darcy agreed. “You should be proud of what you have, Shelby. Look at me.”
She could just barely meet his gaze. A nervous hand brushed away a lock of hair, revealing more clearly the blush that turned her cheeks pink.
“You will survive this, Shelby,” he assured her. “I know that Mr. Jones and I will both enjoy your performance. Raise your skirt, come on now. Play with yourself until you come. We want to see your face when the orgasm peaks inside your body. Nothing could be more profound for a man than to witness that.”
Her intense humiliation seemed to have the same arousing effect on her as pain and punishment and forced sex. All objections seemed to fall away, and she raised her skirt, moving her slim fingers between her outer labia until they finally reached her sex bud. She gently rubbed the sensitive tissue, finding the sensuous waves of pleasure igniting almost instantly.
“Look at me,” her owner ordered. By then, there was not a second’s hesitation. Shelby’s eyes came to rest on Darcy’s craggy face. Though her embarrassment knew no bounds, this act of submission was a pleasure all its own. To stare into the man’s eyes and know that he’d taken control of her made her humble. That fact that their fate together was irrevocably sealed and she belonged to him made her feel safe. That he owned her every thought and action turned her body hot with lust. With a suddenness that nearly knocked her off her feet, the fiery sensations centering in her clitoris burst outward and consumed her in a spasming climax. She moaned, as her wet pussy ground against her hand, then with back arched she gave up a silent cry.
As the spasms finally died off, Shelby slumped to the floor, feeling as if she’d been laid bare, the very darkness of her soul exposed for what it was. She could have used his assurance in that vulnerable moment. Just the touch of his hand, a kind word, a kiss on the cheek.
“She seems to be an adaptable little creature, I’m sure quite serviceable,” she heard Mr. Jones speak first. “The youthful blush on those rosy cheeks will certainly attract some fans.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Mr. Darcy replied, then to her directly: “So, Shelby, I think you’ve shown me all I need to see for now. You can go back to work. Mr. Jones and I have business to discuss, and I’m sure you have much to do.”
Her heart reached out to him, tugging him toward her with a look of utter longing.
“Sir, please—”
“I said back to your desk, Shelby. You have reports waiting there to be typed. You’ll be here all night if you don’t get started now. Let’s hope your ass is still smarting from the punishment. If not, maybe you need more motivation.”
“Oh, no, sir!” She picked herself up off the floor, then quickly buttoned her blouse and swiped her bra from the floor. “I’m sure I have enough motivation,” she said. “I’ll get started right away.”
Tucking her wild emotions back in place, she exited the office door and dove enthusiastically into the projects on her desk.
There were so many interruptions that afternoon that Shelby had to work through dinner to complete the files on her desk. Mr. Darcy had left with Mr. Jones at seven, giving her clear instructions that she was not to leave until she finished. At nearly nine o’clock, when he returned to the office alone, she had still not completed the complicated contract he’d left for her.
She looked up on hearing him enter, “I’m sorry, sir. I still have a few more pages to do…” Bleary-eyed, she returned to her typing without finishing her statement.
“Shelby.” The quiet timbre of his voice jerked her immediately from her task.
“Sir?” She looked up.
His eyes were strangely soft now, almost luminescent in the glow from the office lights. The effect was curiously soothing. By comparison, the computer screen practically burned her eyes.
“Close the file and come with me.”
“Sir?”
“Close the file, and come with me,” he repeated.
“Yes, sir, certainly.” Her breath was suddenly shallow, her heart racing fast. It did so often in the man’s presence, but this time there was something very different about his order. It didn’t seem like an order at all but kindness. She moved from her desk where he reached out with his hand and took hers, leading her through his office door and into the private apartment, which was accessed through a secret door in the rosewood paneling. She’d known for weeks that the apartment was there. Darcy had told her so, though she’d never seen it, nor had she known exactly what he used it for.
His plan was almost obvious from the beginning, though she dared not assume that being allowed into this inner sanctuary would actually mean what she hoped it would. Excited beyond words, she shivered nervously in her high heeled shoes waiting for the big secret to be revealed. After Mr. Darcy tripped the unseen lock and the sliding panel was pulled aside, Shelby gazed in electrified wonder at the vast space that opened up before her. The cozy sitting room, the glittering bar and the enormous bed along the far wall were almost more titillation than her sex-hungry body could withstand.
“Sit down, Shelby,” he motioned her to the soft leather couch.
Darcy made her a drink, and while he stood by the side of the bar, she sat primly on the edge of her seat, much too nervous to relax. Her mind kept wandering toward the bed behind her, but she didn’t dare look. Instead, she carefully sipped the drink, not liking its sour taste in the slightest – this might have been the first hard liquor she’d ever tasted. However, once she consumed half of the drink, she found her body warming and her nerves quelled. With the warm glow magically melting away her fear, she drank the rest more quickly, wanting to slip even deeper into this pleasantly altered state.
When she finished the first drink, he gave her another. He was still standing, downing his second glass of Scotch. She stared beyond him, mesmerized by the glittering array of liquor bottles. “Shelby,” he drew her attention back to him.
“Yes, sir.”
“You know, dear, being owned doesn’t mean that you have to live your life on pins and needles,” he spoke quite kindly now. “It’s all about satisfying each other’s needs. You take care of mine, I take care of yours. Simple as that.”
“Yes, sir, that seems reasonable.” She offered up a timid smile.
“I understand that what a starry-eyed young woman wants is romance, a little tenderness, even if she’s a born submissive masochist like yourself.”
“Is that what I am?” She stared at her drink, feeling the intoxication beginning to take hold. Her mind began to spin.
“You disagree?”
She wasn’t sure that she was thinking clearly, but what Mr. Darcy said sounded perfectly logical, considering her behavior of the last few weeks. He always sounded logical, always perfectly reasonable, even when he twisted her thoughts into knots. He always knew the right answers, while she fumbled around to understand things – fumbled like she did now. Sometimes her feelings were way beyond her, as they were that day, and he seemed to put everything in its proper perspective. She looked up, her head feeling strangely fuzzy. Was this what it was like to be drunk? “No, sir, I can’t disagree. But I think I’m very tired.”
“It’s been a big day for you. I’ve asked a lot from you, and you haven’t dis
appointed me.”
“No?”
“Not at all.” He smiled again. “Come here. Finish your drink and come here.” He held out his hand.
She stared into the glass and then nervously took another gulp, then abruptly downed what was left. The liquor burned all the way to her stomach, and yet it continued to warm her in a strangely pleasant way. When she moved to her feet, she nearly stumbled, but then blushingly righted herself before making up the distance between them. Standing inside his overwhelming aura, so close to his beating heart, hers jumped a few anxious beats. Her fear never greater than it was now. His hand gently pushed back her mussed up hair, then he affectionately laid a palm against her cheek. No warning at all, and his arm captured her inside its grasp, while his lips crushed against hers and his mouth opened. Furious and deep, the longed-for kiss made her melt against him and her body became his. He’d taken her mind and twisted it for his perverse purpose, leaving her mystified by his power to do that. But the kiss was more direct. And the way he led her to the bed, there was little mystery about what he planned to do. Nor was there any confusion about what she wanted. Her heart seemed to lead with her mind too drunk to think straight. He stripped her clothes away, his eyes clearly coveting her youthful body. The lovely roundness of her breasts was cause for his adoration. The taste of her skin as his mouth and lips devoured it made him groan with unpretentious lust. In the heat of their mutual desire, no commands were necessary to have her bending to his will. And when he hovered over her nakedness, his own naked body poised to strike, her fierce desire for him was unmistakable.
“Oh, sir, take me!” she silently cried out.
He must have heard her beg; it took only a moment to react.
Mr. Darcy was quickly inside her, the experience quite unlike anything that had ever happened to her. His erection speared her deep, for the first time their bodies were skin to skin. While taking her with long, penetrating thrusts, she responded as an eager sex slave, pulling him into her body and holding him fiercely. She ached for him in a way that was unfamiliar and verboten in the world she’d come from, and yet this seemed so perfect. The two would never be more one than they were that night.
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