Poor Little Rich Slut

by Dusseau, Lizbeth

  Seeing my worried look, he shook his head a little in dismay. “It’s too much, isn’t it? You can’t be that brave or that vulnerable?”

  “Oh, but I can,” I found my voice.

  “I’ll bet you fold in the first week.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Positive.”

  “You have any idea what this might mean?”

  “No, not really.”

  “But you’ll still…”

  “I will, Garrison.”

  He appraised me again, not looking at all confident. It was for me to prove myself and I was so ready.

  “You do have it bad, don’t you?”

  I grimaced. “I must. I’ve never allowed myself to be this helpless, this exposed to anyone,” said as if that was another revelation.

  “I know, Heiress.”

  “But it’s just between you and me, that’s all I ask.”

  “Hey, don’t go making up your own rules,” he warned, although he added to my relief, “but I promise, we’ll be discreet. You have my word.”

  “Yes, that’s the point, isn’t it? Discreet.”

  “The point is you having a little harmless sexual fun.”

  It sounded so simple, so innocuous. And why should I worry? Why shouldn’t I trust him? Why shouldn’t I have this too, among all the other prizes I had earned? “Daddy did tell you to look after me, right?”

  He laughed.

  Chapter 2

  A day after my agreement with Garrison Tate, my father whisked into town from Italy , announcing that he was throwing a party for me to officially announce my position as Editor-in-Chief of Country Manor Magazine. It would be an impromptu affair, arranged on the spur of the moment, for a guest list of at least 200. Despite the short notice, very few would decline what was sure to be an understated but elegant society affair. Obviously, it would be held at our Country Manor—that fact to the dismay of the staff. Although they were used to Gordon Rule’s fast timing, they didn’t like sudden decisions like this one any more than I did. I did respect the fact that it was a PR event that would be good for my magazine and me. Strange, though, with my priorities suddenly shifting in a different direction, I greeted Daddy’s announcement with a less than enthusiastic response. My raw insides were burning with need, but suddenly Garrison was practically shunning me. Either he’d changed his mind about our secret sexual agreement or was waiting until the party was over to begin. A week passed and there’d been no talk of sex in any of our many conversations, whether public or behind closed doors. Maybe I’d just dreamed the whole idea!

  The day before the party, I met him in the corridor just beyond the water cooler and was suddenly surprised to feel his hand on my ass, giving me an unexpected jolt. I reminded myself not to object. “Ever done it in a broom closet?” he whispered in my ear.

  “I’ve never done it,” I reminded him.

  “Right. Well, you’ll get your chance. Meet me in my office, two minutes.”

  “Office?”

  “Yes, I’m horny.”

  “I thought you said broom closet?”

  “That’s for another time. I want you in my office now.”

  “You know, now is not really a good time.” It really wasn’t. “I have to leave for the house in less than an hour.”

  “This won’t take long.”

  Don’t object, Eleanor. Just stay calm.

  “Okay, I’m just so jittery about tomorrow.”

  He smiled. “In my office.” I rather liked the threatening sound of it and the submissive way my body replied to his tone of voice. But was he really going to rent my virginity in his office?

  The office was bustling with activity just after lunch. There were deadlines as pressing on Garrison and me as they were on the rest of our staff, and of course the party that everyone would be involved in. Regardless of all the commotion, once I closed Garrison’s office door behind me and looked at the scoundrel’s face, I was in another world. I moved closer to his desk, waiting, trembling, trying to act poised when I was no more than a bundle of frayed nerves and anxious fear.

  It was so quiet, as if there was no one around for miles. I could almost hear my heart beating. Garrison’s leather chair creaked, and way off in the distance beyond the doors, if I really concentrated, I could hear the sound of ringing telephones blended with the muted sounds of footsteps moving back and forth.

  Garrison sat back in his chair looking lordly and smug. “So, let me see you,” he said.

  “See me?” I questioned.

  “Strip.”

  I opened my mouth, but stopped, letting out a croaking sound. Yes, this was it. This was the beginning. A minute of utter silence followed as the furnace inside me blazed. I felt a little dizzy as I took off my suit coat and began to unbutton my blouse. I couldn’t look at him at first. At least not until he prompted me and I was forced to.

  “Eleanor, look at me.” Just a simple command and I wanted to run from the room.

  But such a strange exhilaration!

  I finally lifted my eyes and stared into his, licking my lips and feeling a blush heat my cheeks.

  “Take off the blouse,” he said.

  Yes, right.

  I finished the unbuttoning and shrugged the blouse off my shoulders, unveiling another layer of clothes. Quickly stepping from my skirt, while trying to keep my eyes on Garrison, I felt readily diminished in a way I’d anticipated. Maybe like a call girl with her first john. Even with my outer clothes removed, I was hardly naked. The white lace slip came next, slithering down my torso and over my hips. The exposure was getting more serious now and I started to sweat. My breathing felt irregular and I almost thought I would faint.

  While I trembled anxiously, Garrison remained remote and watchful, but unresponsive to my awkward striptease. Once I was down to my panties and bra, I would have given anything if he’d come to me then and we got the hard part, the first fuck, out of the way.

  I didn’t realize that I completely stopped moving until Garrison prompted me again. “I mean naked, Heiress, all the way down to your birthday suit.”

  Yes, of course, I heard my silent reply.

  My bra was the plain white, Victoria Secret type, seamless and not very sexual. It slipped from my torso unveiling two firm, round globes of flesh. Even I, in my sexual modesty, knew I was generously, attractively endowed. At the center of each one, a rosy round aureole surrounded a tiny nipple. I suppose Garrison had seen as much that night behind the carriage house, but now my assets were in full view, bathed in the garish office lighting, their flawless whiteness openly exposed.

  He didn’t say a word to me until my panties joined the rest of my discarded clothes and I turned to face him, totally nude. I worried that he’d see how wet I was under the fluff of pubic hair at my crotch and now how aroused I really was.

  “You did just fine, Eleanor.” His voice seemed deeper, a little grim but infused with authority I’d repeatedly refused to give him in business. And yet, that authority seemed perfectly appropriate and wanted now. “Now I want you to think about what you gave me the other day…you remember?”

  How could I forget that day? But what exactly was he referring to?

  “That was no meager agreement,” he said solemnly. I looked back at him distressed. Then suddenly, his face broke into one of his unseemly smiles and he appraised me lustily. “You know, you’ve got nice, nice tits,” he drawled, “and, what I can see of it, a good ass. Turn around and let me see.”

  I turned, feeling his eyes bore into my backside until he said, “You can turn back.”

  I did. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My mouth was parched with the desire in me continuing to swell. The waiting was impossible.

  “Move to your knees, slut,” he suddenly barked. Without thinking I dropped to the carpet and bowed my head. “Now crawl to me.”

  Why, why was I doing this? my mind asked, as I made up the ten feet between us and buri
ed my nose in the carpet beside him.

  He grabbed my arm and tugged me upright. Holding my quivering chin in his hand, he stared me in the eyes. I’d never seen him like this and I was scared, but so enthralled I couldn’t move.

  “When you’re naked like this, Heiress,” he spit out scornfully, “you can forget about being some hotshot MBA editor-in-chief. You’re a slut, just like every other woman is with her clothes off. You’re a body, a pair of tits, a fat ass and a wet cunt. Got that?”

  I nodded my head yes.

  “You’re gonna be used. You’re going to be punished. You’re going to feel like the fucking whore you really are. What you confessed to me is what you’ll get, every bit of it, from the hot, outrageous sex to the punishment you deserve. You begged me for this, don’t forget it. And when you want to call it quits, when you think I’m being too hard on you, you just remember, this was your idea. Frankly, I think you’ll walk away in a week in disgust. But don’t go blaming me if your little experiment with sex fails. It’ll be your fault not mine. Your loss not mine. I can have a hundred other women in a heartbeat. You’re just another piece of ass to me, no better than the rest, with a whole lot to prove. You got that?”

  I nodded my head again, and he let go of my chin and sat back.

  In all my wildest dreams I never imagined him being like this. I could not believe that I wasn’t slapping his face in total rage, but my body was so alive and wildly exhilarated hearing him speak to me that it hungered for more. The words were an aphrodisiac, the tone of voice, the air of command. He was being not just cocky, but a judgmental asshole, and I devoured his mood like I did my favorite candy.

  “I ordered a dress for you for your little soiree at the Country Manor. Don’t worry; it’s decent, though I’m sure it’s not as prim as the one you planned on. Tonight, I want you to take a bath and shave your pubic hair, all of it stem to stern. Is that little slut maid Angelica still working for your Daddy?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Okay, you have her help you shave. Tell her it’s a favor to Garrison Tate. Then make love to her—no penetration, just make love.”

  I could feel my objections start to rise and Garrison sensed that. He smiled a little cruelly.

  “I don’t care if you gotta problem getting naked with the hired help. You’re going to do it because I told you to and because you want to. There’s no one on the face of the planet who doesn’t lust after that little bitch. Soon as you get over the shock, you’ll figure that out for yourself. Now,” he shifted positions, sitting up a little straighter, “as much as I’d like to fuck you right now, you have responsibilities, Miss Rule. Time to get dressed and get moving. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter 3

  I drew my bathwater myself, spending a longer than normal time getting everything ready. I always loved luxuriating in the steamy jasmine-scented water of the oversized tub; it was like silk against my skin. Rather than feel myself let go the tension of the last two weeks, I was reminded of Garrison’s orders for the evening. During the drive into country, I thought of Angelica, trying to imagine myself making love to a woman—specifically that woman. I think my father hired her for the voluptuous breasts and tiny waist, the Playboy Playmate curves, and her sleek blonde hair. Her eyes were dark and widely spaced, her skin a natural tan and her lips full enough to suggest she’d had a few collagen shots to accentuate their allure. He used to call her dim-witted, but I never thought that. She was playing her game, working the angles, no different than I would in business. She was no less subtle, though her motives were likely simpler. I had no illusions that her relationship with my father was strictly platonic. I imagine he fucked her in exchange for the handouts she was seeking from her wealthy employer.

  After hearing Garrison talk about her, I suspected that he’d fucked her too, during one of Daddy’s infamous house parties. For several years I’d been brushing off the rumors as if that part of my father’s life was no part of mine—in truth, it wasn’t.

  After a long bout of approach-avoidance I finally rang the maid on the house line and slipped into the bath to soak.

  A knock on the door soon followed.

  “Miss Eleanor?” Her voice was sweetly innocent.

  “Come in, Angelica.”

  Instead of my fears compounding, I felt a twinge in my belly and a bit of giddy excitement at the thought of making love to her. Oh! What was happening to me?

  “Yes, miss?” She dressed much like a French maid when serving at one of Daddy’s parties, but for regular days she usually dressed in a short skirt and tight sweater like the khaki skirt and red sweater she had on now. I don’t recall ever seeing her in pants. I never knew for sure, but the way her clothes hugged her hips so closely and without wrinkles, I figured that she wore no underwear other than her lacy bras. Those were quite obvious once you stared into her bulging cleavage. Daddy’s toy one day, now mine. Her breasts were bulging over the top of her brassiere, pushed out of the top of her sweater. I wondered how they’d taste

  “Angelica, dear, do you suppose you could wash my back and help me shave?”

  Her eyes lit up and she stared around at the candles—I must have lit fifteen or twenty, which were making the rosy pink bathroom glow and smell of jasmine, honeysuckle and lavender. My mood was obvious.

  “Sure,” she said, looking at me warily. She moved in, taking the washcloth from my hand, and as I leaned forward, she rubbed it lightly against my skin. My pulse beat a little faster. I never remember her touching me that I didn’t feel the softness of her skin and her sensuous warm aura. Of course, those times before I shook off the sensation; they were just in passing, times when we brushed by each other in the hallway, or our bare skins met by accident while cleaning up the dining room after dinner. This time would be different. Already I could imagine my lips meeting hers.

  “I think you know Garrison Tate, don’t you?” I asked her.

  “Ooo, yes!” I watched her face in the mirror light in a giggly, girlish way.

  As the washcloth moved over my body, I could smell the fragrant aroma of hers—smelling a spicy scent I couldn’t identify, although it was pungent enough to rise above the sweeter scents in the room.

  “He works with me now, you know?” I went on.

  “No. I didn’t know,” her voice was soft and musical.

  “You know what he told me earlier today?”

  “No, miss,” she replied as she continued to wash my back.

  “He said that I should make love to you.”

  She gave a little start and stopped what she was doing. “Ooo, my, he’s such a devil,” she laughed.

  I turned and looked her in the eye with the bold determination in me speaking. Oddly my fears fled once I acted on the desire that throbbed longingly inside me. This was for Garrison, but it was also for me. “I want you to shave my pussy, Angelica, would you do that for me?”

  By then, she’d dropped the washcloth into the water and her bare hands were gently moving over my wet skin. I took her arm and pulled her just a little closer. Our lips seemed destined to touch, although they began tentatively with small kisses. When our tongues met, we were both a little bolder.

  “Maybe you should get out of the water first?” she said. “I mean if you want me to shave you, it will work better on the bed.”

  “Yes, yes, that would be perfect.” We kissed again, our lips lingering on that kiss and our eyes meeting in a meaningful glance. I wanted her; there was no question about that now.

  We didn’t get to the shaving right away. As soon as I was on the bed, she came on to me as if making love was what she planned to do all along. She’d removed her sweater and straddled my hips, dangling her breasts in my face. I grabbed for them and buried my mouth in their sweaty sweetness, licking, tasting, caressing a softness that felt like butter and smelled like the essence of femininity. Did I taste as sweet or feel as silky to her hands?

  Her nipples hardened without my sucking them. While gently f
licking them with my tongue, I listened happily to her squeal in reply. Her pussy was pressed against mine; hers was bare of any hair while mine was still covered with curls. We rubbed our two mounds together, and were soon writhing as if we were driven by some mysterious unseen cock pummeling us at the same time. I’d never before felt anything like that sensation of physical want coming from deep inside my female home.

  Suddenly, Angelica turned around and planted her pussy on my face, while going down on my snatch at the same time. Her tongue skirted the valley between my thighs with such delicacy; I found myself too overcome to do much for her. I licked her as if instinct took over doing everything for me, although I wasn’t really cognizant of what I was doing—or how she tasted or how she smelled. Soon my face was awash with her juices and I was avidly lapping her clit for more as if I’d been doing this for years. Yet, when she focused in on my clitoris, I lost my conscious will again. Her finger rubbed my clit with vigorous strokes, while the sweet humming music of her lyrical voice took my mind away. In seconds, I was pressing my pussy into her face and demanding more, cumming as I spasmed hard and grabbed the sheets beside me to hang on to.

  I could barely get a breath of air afterwards for the writhing pussy that covered my face. She obviously didn’t require an expert in sucking pussy for her to climax. Her lilting voice became more guttural and for a second her entire body seemed to tighten. More of her juices flowed across my mouth and I was swimming in the current of her climax. By then, I was hanging on to her flesh, squeezing her ass with desperate hands and feeling almost afraid to let her go.

  As the climax died away, she turned again and settled in beside me.

  “You fuck so hot, Miss Rule,” she said, admiringly.

  “And so do you,” I said.

  Then she smiled broadly. “Now, I shave you.” She jumped up and moved quickly to the bathroom like some giddy schoolgirl.

  I lay back while waiting, until she returned with a couple of thick terry towels she put under my ass, a bowl of warm water and a fresh razor.