Executive Enslavement

by Bruce McLachlan

  Master Talon untied the ropes and let him go. Morgana spitefully folded his rigid length back into his underwear, bending it into the confines to make him skip on the spot and strain against his uniform.

  Drawing him to the wall, she used a clip to attach his collar to a ring and keep him out of mischief while they handled Envy. The pegs were removed and the fainéant form was lowered back to the floor. Together they slowly took the ropes from her body and exposed the rosy lines that the tight coils and her battle against them had left behind.

  “Show your gratitude, Envy,” stated Talon.

  The girl remained in a lowly pose and scuttled over to kiss the toes of his boots then proceed to do the same for Morgana. She stayed in a ball and huddled herself as she mulled over the session and sought to recuperate from its straits.

  “Did you have a good time here, Envy?” asked Talon.

  “Yes, Master. Thank you so much for choosing to bring me,” she replied with clear elation and honesty.

  “And to Lady Morgana,” he added.

  “Thank you, Lady Morgana.”

  “That’s quite alright, Envy. I hope to see you again for another night of fun,” she said.

  After packing away the various instruments of correction and containment, Talon kissed Morgana goodbye and the couple returned to the night.

  “Well, that was an interesting evening, wouldn’t you say, Tobin?” asked Morgana as she stood by the window and watched their car heading away.

  “Of course, now you have to pay the penalty for being given the chance to bounce that luscious slave girl on your cock. Although, once we have snared Samantha, perhaps then you can enjoy such treats more often.”

  Tobin’s eager barks and whimpers were distinct even against the gag and hood.

  Chapter Four

  Samantha stood against a doorway and continued to scan for the distinct image of the client’s car. Apprehension was gnawing at her as she contemplated the possibility that the woman had deceived her. Perhaps she had offered this second night as a cruel trick, or maybe she had changed her mind and decided on some other rented body to entertain her this evening. After all, what was so special about Samantha? There were a thousand other women on the street this night that could take and deliver far more than she could and do so with far more expertise.

  Samantha had chosen her attire this night very specifically and had run through dozens of combinations before finally settling on one. She had decided to go for a subtler look. A satin bra and thong, suspender belt, and seamed stockings were joined with some heeled ankle boots and a thin patent choker. Samantha felt safe with the client and so she had left her bag and weaponry behind. Because the pick-up was supposedly guaranteed, she had covered the whole ensemble with a long black coat for warmth considerations and to ensure that everything was not ruined by a chance arrival of the police and an untimely arrest.

  Samantha was so busy looking down the street for the distinctive visage of the Cadillac that she failed to notice a long white limousine pull up. A single horn blare drew her attention with its proximity and she turned to see a smartly uniformed female chauffeur emerge and open the rear door. The alluring physique of the client could be seen in the dull lights of the plush interior. She was dressed in a loose shirt with a tight black skirt that clung to her upper thighs and exposed her lace stocking tops. As usual, she had perfectly applied her makeup and expertly sculpted her sable hair.

  The woman beckoned to her and with a sigh of utter relief Samantha moved through the sporadic crowds and to the vehicle. The chauffeur held the door and let Samantha take the open area of seat before she closed it and returned to her post behind the wheel.

  The client continued to lounge in the abject splendour of the limo. Her head was laid back into the leather and she idly panned her gaze up and down her acquisition.

  Samantha was far less comfortable in this environment. She sat rigid and worried, unused and intimidated by such surroundings. It seemed absurd to be uncomfortable in such deliberate and excessive comfort.

  “What did you wear, Samantha?” asked the woman.

  She took the hint, opened her coat, and drew it from her body to reveal the lingerie. She tried to lean back and look provocative but she was too nervous to pull it off with any real success.

  “Nice,” she commented, then met Samantha’s eyes. “Come here.”

  Samantha shuffled across the long back seat and entered the woman’s open arms. The slight cuddle brought a sudden flash of pain and Samantha gave a stifled yelp and stiffened sharply.

  “What is it?” asked the client.

  “I... I fell,” softly muttered Samantha as she looked down and away with a sudden degree of shame.

  A soft slap caught her furthest cheek then the woman grabbed Samantha’s chin. With a stern pull, she steered the cowering face back around and up. The client glared ferociously into Samantha’s angst-riddled eyes.

  “You’re a bad liar. Try again,” she ordered.

  “Eddy,” said Samantha with flat tones.

  “Is that supposed to be an explanation?”

  “My... employer.”

  The woman laughed and let go of Samantha. She reclined again and opened the nearby bar. Her delicate fingers ran along the presented miniatures and removed a small bottle. She tossed it into the air so that it tumbled over several times. With absent ease she caught it, cracked the seal, dropped the lid on the floor, then took a sip from the contents.

  “Such a quaint euphemism from a whore. Face facts, he’s your pimp,” she said with amused derision before taking another draft that nearly emptied the frugal contents.

  Samantha moved away a little. The words smarted like another slap to her face. All her dreams of what might be were brushed aside in the face of just how ruined she was. The woman knew what she was, knew exactly. Why then would she want her? The client was just slumming it. She was playing with flesh that she could acquire for a pittance.

  “Here,” offered the woman, her tone having become more accommodating.

  Samantha took the new miniature, broke the seal, and opened it. She drained the whole thing in one gulp as she sought courage and strength in the bottom.

  “What did he do?” asked the client.

  “I tried to tell him that the money I’d get from you would more than pay for me not working Tuesday night. He didn’t listen,” she replied.

  “You worked? After everything I did to you and told you?” said the woman.

  The words were not stern but they were dangerously irritated. Samantha’s fear that she would be expelled and rejected flared. After everything that she had been through to get here, to lose the client now would make Eddy’s last fit of temper seem like a feeble childish tantrum.

  “I tried not to. Really I did, but... he...”

  It was useless. The client had asked for one thing and she had failed to deliver it. It was over. She had blown it. Tears of regret, anger, and shame rapidly began to fill her eyes. Samantha had enjoyed such an amazing time with the client and she so desperately wanted more. Now that chance was gone for good.

  She was already in an emotionally charged state and this final weight on her psyche had broken her composure. Samantha looked away and tried to conceal her sorrow. The woman moved over and gently took hold of her from behind.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’ll forgive you... this time.”

  Samantha slowly turned around and entered the woman’s comforting embrace. She nuzzled into the client’s neck as the woman leaned back and brought Samantha with her.

  “I’m so sorry. Thank you for not kicking me out,” muttered Samantha.

  “That’s okay. You’re far too valuable a find to waste,” said the woman while stroking her hair.

  “I don’t even know your name,” said Samantha, after finally finding the resolve to try to gain an identity. Even if it was a false one, she just needed a name.

  “Call me Morgana
,” she answered with a soft purr in her voice.

  Samantha stretched upward and met the lips of the client. Tongues spilled forth and carefully curled against each other with sensual slithers. Samantha delicately traced the perimeter of Morgana’s mouth, tickling the flesh of her lips before reaching in to search the cavern of her agape mouth.

  They took turns closing their mouths to the extended tongue of the other and suckling upon it. With soft pulls, playful nips, and rocking motions of assiduous attention they each enjoyed the sly sensations.

  Hands entered the exchange and calmly moved upon the body of the other person. Samantha slid around between Morgana’s legs and dropped onto her knees before the woman. Morgana leaned over and continued the kiss as Samantha stroked the client’s legs and brushed her fingers to the gorgeous inner thighs of the woman. Samantha nudged herself closer so that she was pressing against the woman’s crotch. As the skirt was defeated, Samantha discovered that the woman had no underwear on and it was exciting to think that only the thin layer of her own underwear separated their intimate regions from direct contact.

  The passion swiftly became more fervid and Samantha started to try and blindly open the buttons on the woman’s shirt. Her fingers were trembling with excitement and anticipation. Consequently, it took several fumbling attempts to unfasten each button.

  “Careful, bitch. That costs more than you make in a month,” said Morgana, and turned the chastisement into a more physical variety with another light slap across Samantha’s cheek. The playful dominance made Samantha pliant with desire, and her submission to the controlling executive grew undeniable.

  Samantha moved back a little and with her yearning loins still pressed between the splayed legs of Morgana, she began to remove the shirt with more care. She eased it off the woman’s shoulders to expose her strapless bra then leaned in to kiss her cleavage.

  The woman straightened up and deserted the shirt on the seat. Taking hold of Samantha, she forced her down onto the carpeted floor of the limousine and pinned her down by her wrists. The stockinged legs of the client reached up, straddled Samantha then Morgana settled herself into place.

  The woman loitered above Samantha’s squirming form for a moment and savoured her libidinous writhing. With a grin on her face she leaned down, ran her tongue up Samantha’s neck, then continued the kiss for a moment longer.

  Morgana backed slowly away and made Samantha crane her neck up to try to keep in contact with her. Eventually though, she moved out of range and left the dissolute form trapped and just out of reach.

  “So who did you screw? How many men have you fucked since last we met?” she asked, and thrust her hindquarters against Samantha’s supine form in mockery of intercourse.

  “Please, no,” whimpered Samantha. She did not want to have to remember such things. She wanted to fill her mind with the body of Morgana and fixate solely on this wonderful perfect moment in time. She could never have even pieced together a fantasy half as exquisite as this. Against all the odds and the conspiracy of fate, she had been picked up by a gorgeous, rich, controlling woman who remorselessly pleasured her amidst ostentatious luxury.

  “Tell me, girl, or I’ll dump you on the street right now. You think you’re any different to a thousand other sluts I could pick up right this second?” snapped Morgana.

  Samantha was ashamed to make her confession but there was an iniquity to it that soothed her anxiety. Morgana was interrogating her, dragging out her secrets and making her admit things she had no wish to reveal. Again, Morgana was emphasising the level of power and control she held over her. Samantha looked up across the breasts that were presented above her and stared into the uncompromising countenance of Morgana. The overpowering image of the woman dispelled all resistance.

  “Eddy saw the marks you made. He said that since I’m doing kink on the side, I might as well do it for him as well.”

  “You let someone else tie you up?” she said.

  When Samantha was slow to reply, Morgana dragged her wrists together and crossed them above her head. With one hand, she pinned them both down. Samantha gave a struggle but found the iron hold considerably stronger than she had thought. She had not realised just how deceptively powerful Morgana’s trim physique was.

  Morgana lifted herself up and placed a knee between Samantha’s thighs. Leaning forward, she placed a thigh to her thong and gave a slight rock to indicate that Samantha had permission to continue. Unable to deny herself such an opportunity, Samantha forsook her embarrassment at such actions and began to rub herself against the firm flesh. The satin and the nylon whispered softly upon each other and the swell of pleasure instantly melted the rest of Samantha’s reluctance. The truth spilled out recklessly, unfastened from her concerns as she masturbated against the leg of the celestial woman.

  “No. Eddy handcuffed me to my bed then, he... he...”

  “What did he do?” she asked forcefully, deliberately clearing the limits of what Samantha could easily confess.

  “Please, can’t we just forget it? I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. You’ve got to believe me,” mewled Samantha and paused in her onanistic actions.

  “Right!” snarled Morgana.

  The hand released her wrists and grabbed her hair in the manner the woman was so fond of doing to exercise her mastery. Moving back, she used it as the means to tow Samantha and keep her face close to the ground.

  Morgana dropped back into the seat and delivered Samantha up between her widely spaced thighs. The hold stopped and kept Samantha a couple of inches away from the fragrant bared sex of the woman.

  “Smell,” she ordered, and slowly started to release the hold.

  Samantha moved closer and her tongue emerged to service the woman that she was so enamoured with. If she could just pleasure her, maybe she would desert this line of questioning.

  A stinging slap caught her cheek and fended her off. Samantha moved back, put her tongue away, and looked up at the woman.

  “Well?” she asked with a sudden irritated note in her voice.

  Samantha obeyed and drew in the scent that had occupied the tights and ruled her senses the previous night. The woman knew that it had been the initial medium through which Samantha had been enslaved to her and was again using it to establish full command.

  “Don’t lick. Don’t touch. Don’t even think of touching. Just smell,” she ordered, and to ensure obedience she established another single fisted hold into Samantha’s hair. Samantha did as she was told and continued to absorb the exquisite female scent. Her arousal rose through her on each breath, making her ache even more desperately to lap and kiss the woman.

  “Now touch yourself,” she said.

  Samantha paused momentarily. She was unsure of whether she could so openly masturbate before Morgana. As part of a coupling, it was easier. This would be a lot more blatant. The grip tightened and made her roots murmur softly with riots of discomfort.

  “Do it!”

  Samantha lifted a hand between her legs and slipped it into her underwear. A digit reached through the already damp folds of her pussy and began to swirl upon her clitoris. The masturbation was delightful, especially with the added spice of a superlative view, a luscious smell, and the commanding hold to her hair. Morgana then waited a few moments to let the pleasure erode the final barricades to Samantha’s honesty.

  “Now, let me be the judge of what I will and will not believe and tell me what he did,” said Morgana.

  “He took his belt to me then made me blow him,” she muttered. She was only half-aware of what she was saying because her mind was distracted with the far more pleasing spectacle and sensations before and below her.

  “Made you?” enquired Morgana with a raised and doubting eyebrow.

  “I really didn’t want to,” rebuked Samantha.

  “You didn’t want to? That’s a strange phrase to come from a whore’s mouth. Especially one that was just so recently full of a pimp�
��s cock. Are you sure there wasn’t more to it?”

  “I don’t know. I... I just couldn’t. I’ve done it hundreds of times, perhaps thousands. Only this time, I just couldn’t bear the thought of it,” whimpered Samantha.

  The forced recall was corrupting her masturbation. It was hard to stay aroused and dedicated to this scenario when Morgana kept forcing images through her mind’s eye of Eddy thrusting himself into her mouth.

  “Such a confused little girl. However, do I really want that semen-stained tongue in me?” she said with a broad smirk.

  Morgana’s diabolic laugh echoed through the back of the vehicle as she feasted on Samantha’s look of utter appalled dolour.

  “You may worship me now,” she announced with a chuckle.

  “Thank you,” said Samantha with extreme gladness.

  Samantha crawled forward to delve into the woman. Her tongue flashed into her and eagerly reprised its exploration of her pussy before again focusing its efforts more devotedly to her clit.

  “Don’t you dare come without my permission, though!” she said harshly.

  “I won’t! I promise,” she testified then returned to her self-gratification and the pleasuring of the woman.

  “Mmmm, that’s nice. So you’ll do what I say?” asked Morgana as she lounged back and started to stroke her own breasts.

  Samantha nodded and gained another skipping slap to the side of her face for her lack of volume. She briefly lifted up to affirm her acceptance of Morgana’s rule then returned to her cunnilingus.

  “I’ve got a meeting soon. Perhaps I’ll install you under my desk. Tie that face of yours between my legs and make you service me all the way through it. That’d help me stay calm through all those boring fucking presentations and reports,” she said amidst a series of licentious pants and moans.