by Simone Leigh
“Spread ‘em.” I say, pushing myself between her knees, squeezing up into her thighs and plunging my shaft into her already dripping cunt.
She yells, but not in pain. It’s more a cry of triumph. “To the victor, the spoils.” I mutter to her, and I start to pump her, ramming in. She tries to hold me, but I grab her wrists, pushing her arms over her head.
She looks great, stretched out for me, her body tensioned, tits riding high. And with my hands holding her like that, I have a bit more traction to drive my cock deeper into her.
She sings her arousal, wailing and panting with every thrust I make. Her tits are flushed almost scarlet, the flush running up her chest and neck, and down her belly. Her whole body glistens with sweat and her eyes are like wild jade, alternately looking at me, then James, lying beside her, and returning to me. She isn’t smiling, exactly, but her mouth is open, lips parted as she pants and cries out.
My balls are tightening, pressure rising. I could just let go now and shoot her full, but I want her to scream for me first. I thrust harder, battering her inside. James reaches to finger her nipples, pulling and rolling, squeezing hard in time to my thrusts.
She draws still, her whole body straining as she quivers under me; the calm before the storm. Then her head flings back, eyes closed and she howls her orgasm as her pussy clenches and pulses around me.
That’s all I need, and I let go. Immediately, my own climax takes me and I spurt into her, shooting her with everything I’ve got.
In the aftermath, we lie quietly together, James and I to either side of her. Finally, she says. “I’m going for a bath. I’ll have a soak, so I might be a while.”
I kiss her. “Enjoy.”
Just the two of us now, James looks rough, though better than he did. “How are you?” I ask.
“Better now that you’re both back and safe.”
“She can be unsettling sometimes, can’t she?”
“How do you mean?”
“Her comment about it not being the first time she’s run for her life.”
He glances up at me, then looks away, nodding.
“She’s going to go nuts up here you know, not able to do anything.”
“What do you suggest? She’s going to have to deal with it.”
“How did you feel last night? When you knew that we were running, but you could do nothing?”
He presses his lips together. Now I have his attention. “It drove me nuts too.” But then, “You brought her back, but Richard’s not got Beth back. How do you think he’s feeling?”
How do I answer that?
___________________________________________
She paces up and down.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.” I’m trying to joke, lighten the mood, but it’s not going down well.
“What else can I do?” she mutters. “I can’t go out. I have no work to do. I can’t even stand and stare out at the view….”
Her voice is savage, and what’s worse, is that I understand exactly why….
I try to be patient. “What are you hoping to achieve with this Charlotte?”
“I want to do something. You can’t all seriously expect that I’m just going to sit here and wait for the future to come to me. You won’t let me leave. I can’t go back to university. I’m not even allowed down in the lower offices in the same building, even my own office…”
“That’s at least partly because no-one believes that you won’t try to leave if you’re let loose.”
“What do they expect of me?” Her voice is rising to a screech.
She can’t help herself…
“It’s only been a day, and I’m bored stupid. It could be months. Michael, I can’t do this.”
“Charlotte…. “I step over, try to take her in my arms, but she brushes me off.
“You’re as bad as them. You just want to treat me as something pretty to be protected. I’m not that person!”
I try again to hold her. “Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!” She storms away from me.
We need to deal with this.
“I just need a word with James. I’ll be back in a bit.”
I take the lift down, nodding to Ross who is seated on ‘guard duty’ outside the elevator shaft.
In Reception, Francis nods me through to Haswell’s office. “He’s in there.”
“Hello, Michael.” says James. “Didn’t expect to see you down here?”
“It’s Charlotte….”
“What’s wrong? Is she alright?”
“She’s like a caged animal up there, and we need to do something about it.”
Haswell shrugs. “She’s going to have to live with it. Things as they are, there’s no other choice.”
I hesitate, trying to choose my words. This is James’ co-director after all. “Richard. Charlotte is not like Beth. She won’t just accept it. If we simply try to keep her caged up, she won’t stay caged….”
Haswell scratches his chin. “She may not like it, but there’s not a lot she can do. I’ve got Ross guarding the elevators up there. The stairwells to that part of the building are all locked, and for good measure, I’ve had the codes cancelled on her door and car passes. Like it or not, she can’t get out.”
Does he really believe that? If she’s determined?
Hold your patience…
“Can I suggest that you give her something to do, before she finds something to do?”
“What’s stopping her getting on with her college work?” says James.
“Her mind isn’t on her college work. She’s been told she can’t go back for now, and it could be months before she can…. She’s not in a good state of mind, and I for one don’t want to have to deal with her in the state she’s in.”
“What do you mean? Has she been rude to you?”
“She didn’t mean to be. She’s just lashing out at whoever’s handy. It happened to be me.”
James stands, a set to his face. “Whoa….” I say. “Take it easy….”
“It doesn’t matter what’s upsetting her. She has no cause to take it out on you.” He turns to leave. “I’ll be back in a while.”
I know that look. And Charlotte’s in for a lesson on good behaviour.
Should I follow? Keep it in hand?
Maybe she’ll feel better for it… blow off some stress…. I’ll give them a few minutes…
“Richard.…” I hesitate, not sure how much I can say to James’ billionaire partner.
“What?”
“I know you think….”
“Yes?” He sits back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. “Come on. Out with it. If it’s something awkward, it’s better dealt with.”
“I think that you and James both think of Charlotte a sub. Intelligent and pretty, but just a sub. And she’s not. There’s a lot more to her than that. If she can’t get she wants by.… legitimate means, she’s perfectly capable of taking matters into her own hands.”
He says nothing, considering my words. I push my case. “I know she looks like Beth, but she’s had a fight on her hands all her life. It’s second nature to her. She’ll not simply accept it.”
“You think not?”
“She ran from the home half a dozen times.”
“And was caught and returned every time.”
“She was a child then. She not now. She’s intelligent, devious and she’ll follow through to get what she wants. For God’s sake, bring her in on whatever’s going on, or she’ll take steps to do it herself.”
He ponders, thoughtful. “Alright. You’ve made your point. I’ll bring her in…. Um, right now is probably not a good time though.” He casts his eyes upwards.
“Mmmm, no… I’ll give them half an hour and then go up.”
___________________________________________
Charlotte
I watch Michael leave, sorry, even before the door has closed behind him, for what I said.
He didn’t deserve that. He’s trying to
help.
I follow him out to the lobby, but the lift doors have already closed behind him.
“Ross…”
“Sorry, Charlotte. I’m under orders. You’re not going anywhere. He’ll skin me alive if I let you through.”
I wander back into the lounge, pacing up and down, unable to settle, unable to think straight.
What’s wrong with me?
Maybe a glass of wine would settle me. I pour it, then realise that I really don’t want it.
Tea then. I put on the kettle. As I’m waiting for it to boil, the click of the apartment door echoes through.
Michael! He’s come back. I’ll apologise to him. Tell him I’m sorry.
But as I go through to the lounge, it is my Master waiting for me, and he does not look happy. Arms folded, head tilted, he gazes levelly at me.
Oh crap…
“Anything you want to tell me?” he says, his voice cool.
“If it’s about Michael, I know I owe him an apology. I thought you were him just then. I came out to say sorry.”
“Well that’s a start I suppose.” He does not look mollified. “And what had Michael done to deserve your being rude to him?”
“Nothing. It was my fault, not his.” I stare at the floor, knowing what’s coming.
He crosses the room to me, seizes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at him. “Things are difficult enough without you throwing tantrums. Beth abducted. Gunmen coming after you…. Charlotte, Michael saved your life, and all you do is vent your temper on him when he’s trying to help.”
My temper snaps. “I know. I’ve said I’m sorry. I was sorry almost before he’d left the room, but he’d gone and I can’t follow him to apologise….”
My voice is rising all the time. “I’m a prisoner up here. You can wrap it up in nice furniture and good carpets, but I’m a prisoner in a gilded cage. And I can’t…. I can’t do anything!”
I am shouting by now, venting anger and frustration and I don’t know what else. “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”
My Master’s face furious, “Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone!” And he slaps me across the face, hard, the blood rising where his hand has caught my skin.
And I see red. I slap back, catching him across the cheek.
For a moment he freezes, as though he can’t believe what I just did, then grabbing both my wrists, he pushes me towards the bedroom. “In there, Madam.” he hisses. He doesn’t shout, his fury turned to iced words.
Do I fight this?
Is there any point?
“Alright.” I say. “I’ll go into the bedroom. I’ll take whatever it is you’re going to hand out. but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change what’s in my head.”
I walk into the bedroom, and without being asked, bend over the end of the bed, my face pressed sideways against the comforter. And I wait.
My Master does not hurry. Instead he stands over me, arms folded, looking down. After a moment, he pulls me upright by the wrist. “Alright then. Tell me what’s in your head.” His anger is still there, but it is contained now.
“You’ve got me locked up here, for my safety as you say. But I’m not a child, and I’m not stupid. You all want to tell me what I must or must not do, and no-one asks me what I think, let alone what I want. Instead, you just want to run my life by …. dictat. Alright, I’m being hunted. We all know why. So, do I stop thinking for myself? Wait to be rescued by my knights in shining armour? Is that what you expect of me? Because I’m going crazy caged up here, and…. and I’m sorry I took it out on Michael. He really did do nothing to deserve it.”
He faces me, arms still folded, face expressionless.
What’s he thinking?
He stares at the ceiling, then looks away from me, then back at me.
Abruptly, he pushes forward, grabbing me at the shoulders, pushing me back against the wall, fastening his mouth over mine.
What…
He tugs at my tee-shirt, roughly, pulling it up over my head, then reaches around, unclipping my bra.
He points at my jeans. “Off.” he instructs.
I remove the rest of my clothes. He strips off too, but keeps his tie in his hand. As I stand naked before him, he pushes at my chest with the flat of his hand, propelling me backwards onto the bed.
Jeez.… hope he’s going to give me time to….
His erection is huge, and he’s not wasting time. He clambers over me, and, holding my eyes as he does it, ties my wrists, binding them to the bedhead. Then flipping me over, he rolls me onto my stomach, the tie twisting painfully tight.
“Master.… My hands....”
He reaches, unties and reties, allowing blood back into my fingers, then hauls me up at the hips, presenting himself with my ass….
Ah, I know where this is going….
…he slaps hard across my ass. It stings and I gasp.
Is he angry still? Or just letting off steam?
He rubs the spot where he caught me first time, then slaps again, in a different place…
…. Yeah… letting off steam….
And knowing now that he is not angry with me still, my nerves vanish and…
… my pussy floods.
Now, he slaps again, and again, but this time my gasp evolves to a cry of arousal. He plunges fingers inside me, briefly finger-fucking me, testing my readiness I think, and with a grunt of satisfaction, bringing his body atop mine, slams his cock inside me.
He rams home, arrested only by my inner walls, and I yell at the pain. But a part of me is dissolving, tension evaporating as my Master plunges into me, driving in hard again and again.
His own breathing is laboured, and our bodies are quickly slick with sweat as he rides me, taking me, claiming his due.
His hand snakes around me, fingers working down to my clit. Normally this would have been simply too fast for me to work to climax, but as the tension in me uncoils, orgasm takes its place, welling up in me, ready to explode against my Master’s ramming of my insides.
My pussy erupts into climax, pulsing violently around my Master’s cock. I’m not sure if it triggers him, or if he simply releases his control, but as I buck and jerk and howl my pleasure, he growls against me, grinding hard as he shoots into me.
With a gasp he rolls off me to one side, reaching to untie my wrists. I collapse next to him, and he reaches round to pull my face to his, kissing me.
“I think we both needed that.” he says.
I nod, still panting. “Thank you, Master.”
“Thank you?”
“I feel much better now.”
He huffs a laugh. “I’ll tell Michael, next time you start getting cantankerous with him…”
“Cantankerous?”
He laughs. “Feel free to substitute the adjective of your choice…”
“Well, okay…. how about ‘grumpy’?”
“Look, I’m sorry. you were right. We shouldn’t have tried to lock you in your ivory tower like some latter-day Rapunzel.”
“Wasn’t she golden haired?”
“As you say, so you’re clearly unsuited to the role. Listen…” he turns serious. “Despite our… um… personal de-stressing techniques…” he grins, “You can’t just go wandering around. It really is too risky…”
“I want something to do. I’m never going to be the idle type.”
“I know. And it was unfair of me to expect it. Leave me with it. We’ll find legitimate work you can do to help with all this. Fair enough?
“Yes, Master. That’s fair enough.”
___________________________________________
Michael
“How is she now?” asks James
“She’s a lot better. Seems to have found herself something to do…. Although I notice that she’s not doing any of it sitting down….”
“Really?”
James tone is bland, but there is a glint of amusement in his eyes. Richard looks briefly over the top of his glasses, then looks
away, smiling to himself.
“What is she doing?” asks James
“I’m not sure what it is exactly, but she has plans of the City spread out. Seems to be cross-referencing them to various web-sites.”
“I gave them to her.” says Richard. “We’re trying to figure out just how they got Elizabeth out of sight so easily.”
___________________________________________
Charlotte
Will Stanton is here. And the Commissioner of Police is not a happy man.
“And how long do you think it took them to figure out they’ve got the wrong woman?” demands Richard. “And how would they react then?”
Will looks sympathetic. “Richard. They’re not going to simply kill her. Assuming that they didn’t decide just to….” He swallows his words, obviously editing what he was about to say, “She has a value to them. Even if they don’t know who she is; her value as a ransom hostage, they’re traffickers. A woman who looks like Beth; they’ll take the time to get a good price for her.”
This is his edited and improved version of what he was going to say?
Will continues. “We have shots of them getting her into the car and driving across the City, but then they disappear into a parking lot and the car is abandoned. Clearly, they changed it for some other vehicle, and on the way out, well, hundreds of cars have gone past.”
“Assuming they got out by car of course.”
“How else then?”
Richard slams his fist against the table, rage and frustration writ large. “You’re saying that we have no leads? None?”
Will hesitates, then, “I think the only way we are going to get a handle on where they are, is if we can entice them out…. some sort of lure.…”
His eyes slide across to me.
My Master leaps up, eyes flashing, face furious. “Absolutely not!”
Michael speaks. “No. Richard. I’m sorry. Beth is a lovely woman, but you are not using Charlotte as bait to track her down. I know James is on your payroll, but I’m not, and I say ‘No’.”
I’ve never heard Michael sound like this before: implacable, almost threatening, but he sits there, face set, lids half lowered.