by Simone Leigh
Francis comes in with the coffee, deposits the tray and leaves again. Richard pours two coffees, and I sip at mine, a bit lost for words.
He leans forwards and takes my hand. “Elizabeth, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your quick wits and your eye for detail. A lot of people would have, if they had spotted the problem at all, passed over the mystery and moved on. You struggled with it and came to me with your dilemma.” He laughs. “It goes without saying that if you encounter any more such ‘inconsistencies’, I want you to come straight to me with them again.”
I ponder the implications. “What will happen to him? Will you call the Police?”
Richard shrugs. “I don’t think so. It would be hard to prove that it was actually Mack. When I confronted him, he didn’t deny it. However, I caught him out, unexpectedly, today. No doubt if the Police came in, he would have his answers ready, and in the meantime the company’s shares would be falling. No, he’s out, and he won’t be coming back. And he’ll not find it easy to get another job. You on the other hand….”
“What made him think it was me?”
“I didn’t tell him that it was you, Elizabeth, but he knew which files you’d been looking at, and which projects you’d focused on. It didn’t take him long to work it out when I started asking him specific questions….”
I am really worried now. “He looked really mad. I thought he was going to hit me, but then the security guards arrived.”
Richard pauses. “Is that right? Just like him to blame someone else for his situation.” He rubs his chin. “Mmm… Just in case, I think we’ll get you out of that old apartment of yours, now. Get you to a new address. Would you mind that?”
“Well, no, but I was going to move at the end of the month, when I could make the deposit for the rent.”
“I want you out of there before then. Where is the new apartment you have in mind?”
“It’s in the Crown Towers development, you know, one of those new ones they’ve just built.”
He smiles. “Yes, I know them. C’mon, let’s go see.” He buzzes the intercom. “Francis, can you call a car. We’re going to be out for a couple of hours.”
_______________
In the privacy of the back of the car, I say “I’d thought I had done something to upset you.”
My Master looks startled. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, you dropped me off at my old flat last week and then I didn’t see you again, or barely. And when I did see you, you didn’t speak. I….”
I falter. Am I safe to say this?
“I…. missed you.”
“I’m sorry about that, Elizabeth. I have to say that I also missed our, er…. adventures together.” He grins and flashes his eyebrows at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t neglect you. I don’t want you wandering off looking for pastures anew.”
“Oh I won’t do that. We have a deal don’t we? Anyway, I um…. I sorted myself out.” Then I blush crimson, realising what I have just blurted out.
A rainbow of expressions crosses my Master’s face; surprise, shock and then, a sunrise of sensual pleasure. He tilts his head, and then, taking my hand, presses it against his groin, moving my hand, in his, over him, showing me what was is required of me. Through the fabric of his trousers, I can feel his cock stirring into life.
He leans closer into me, his voice low and breathy by my ear. “So, you missed me, and you fucked yourself instead?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Yes what?” He presses my hand against his growing erection.
“Yes Master. I fucked myself, thinking about you.”
“And?”
“I wanted you there, inside me. But you weren’t there, so instead, I lay naked on the bed, and got myself off.”
“How? What did you do Elizabeth? Tell me, in detail. I want to know.”
I am unused to this, and am not quite sure what to say, so I hesitate.
“Elizabeth. I have given you an instruction. I want you to tell me, detail by detail, how you fucked yourself.”
“I spread my legs, and I played with my clit.” As I say this, my Master’s cock jumps under my hand. I feel it straining for escape. As well as I can through his trousers, I work him with my fingers.
A voice comes over the car intercom from Ross, the driver. “Sorry Mr Haswell, we’re stuck in a traffic jam. Might take a bit longer to get there.”
I see my Master take a breath for voice control. He succeeds and sounding very casual, replies “That’s fine, Ross. There’s no hurry.” Then he presses my hand again, hard down.
Seeking permission in his eyes, I unzip, and release, my Master’s now throbbing erection. “I’d have you hard down on that, sucking me off.” he says. “But I want to hear what you have to say.”
“I played with my clit.” I repeat. “I rubbed myself, and tweaked and flicked. And all the time I was thinking of you, with your mouth around me, lapping at me and making me wet.” With the tips of my fingers, I work the head of his penis, licking my fingers to make it as good as I can for him.
“I made myself really wet. I was ready for you, and I wanted you. I wanted you to lick me out and then fuck me brainless.” I feel that my fingers are not slippery enough. My Master’s cock deserves better than this, so for a moment I bend over, taking him in my mouth, licking and moistening the tender skin, at the same time, continuing to slide my fingers up and down his length. My own panties are moistening.
“I used my hand, and finger fucked myself.” I continue, but you weren’t there. “I was ready to be fucked properly. I wanted to feel you all the way inside me, ball deep, but you weren’t there. I would have used a vibe, but I didn’t have one, so I had to find something else instead.”
My Master is now leaking down my hand. As I hand fuck him, it is slippery and delicious, and I am becoming uncomfortable in my now soaking panties.
“What did you use? What did you bring yourself off with?”
“I found a bottle. It wasn’t right, but it was good enough. I slid it inside myself, and then I fucked my cunt, hard. I wanted you to fuck me, but instead I used a bottle to fuck myself….”
Ross’s voice comes over the intercom again. “We’re clear Mr Haswell. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
I see Richard’s eyes roll skywards. “Fuck!” he mutters.
I lean over him and lick him clean and dry, enjoying the taste of him and letting him see me lick my own lips clean. With a little difficulty, I tuck him away, and he pulls his jacket closed to cover his still overly obvious bulge.
_______________
As we enter the lobby of the apartment block, the concierge does not at first even meet my eye. “Yes?” he says. “What is it?” He is eating a sandwich, and casually brushes egg crumbs from his face and onto his shirt.
I start to speak. “Hello. My name is Elizabeth Kimberley….”
Richard interrupts. “Is that how a member of my staff meets and greets members of the public?”
The concierge looks sharply up at him, then blenches. “Oh! Mr Haswell.” He stands up hastily, struggling slightly to push his chair back as he does so. Then he takes on an obsequious smile. “Sorry, Mr Haswell. I didn’t know we were expecting you.”
Richard leans forward over the desk, eyeballing the man. “You shouldn’t need to be expecting the Boss to show up, to show common courtesy to a visitor to the building. That is your job. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Get me the keys for 47A.”
“Yes Sir.” The concierge disappears into a back room for a moment, then reappears, jingling keys. “There you are, Sir.”
“Thank you.” Says Richard. “And get a clean shirt on if you expect to be still working here next week.”
We take the lift to the fourth floor. “I didn’t know you owned this building too.” I say.
He smiles and shrugs. “Handy, isn’t it? And no-one will disturb us.” His smile turns to a wicked grin.
/> On the fourth floor, he unlocks the door and gestures me in. As soon as the door is closed behind us, my Master grabs me by the arm and pushes me back against a wall. “Now Madam, you were explaining to me how you handle yourself alone.” One hand grabs me by the wrists, gathering them, raising my arms above my head, pinning me to the wall. The other hand heads south, and, non-too gently, pulls up the edge of my skirt, questing up my thighs, past my panties, between my legs. There is nothing restrained about his actions. My Master is ready now. His finger reaches in and up, straight inside me. I hear his grunt of satisfaction to find me already dripping for him.
His face close to mine; “Now, if you please, continue with your tale.”
“I screwed myself with a bottle, hard.”
His fingers plunge into me and I yelp. “Like this?”
“Yes, oh God, yes.”
He stabs into me again, spreading his fingers as he goes, thumb outside, pressed on my clit and I start to whimper in arousal. “You like that?”
I am breathless and gasping. “Yes…. Yes.” His thumb is rubbing my clit and I need to cum.
“You want more?”
“Yes. Please yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes Master, please fuck me. Please let me cum.”
He leans even closer, whispering into my ear. “I’ll forgive you this time, because you didn’t know. But in future, you are only allowed to fuck yourself if you have asked my permission first. And afterwards, I expect a report, in detail, of what you did to yourself that is supposed to be a substitute for my fucking you properly. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, Master, I think so.” His fingers freeze. I am on the edge of orgasm, brinking the precipice and shaking with anticipation. I need to cum.
“The answer is just ‘Yes, Master’.”
“Yes, Master. Please, Master. Please let me cum.”
“That’s better.” And, hand still inside me, fingers working my g-spot, he drops to his knees, splays my pussy lips with the other hand and wraps his tongue around my clit, flicking and tasting me.
Instantly I orgasm, pleasure pulsing electrically through me as I moan ecstatically, gushing hot over my Master’s fingers. “Spread your ankles.” he commands and through a euphoric haze, I obey, trembling uncontrollably as my Master licks my thighs, clit and pussy clean. My hips bucking, I want to give at the knees, let my weight slide to the floor, but he still has several fingers inside me. I can take no more. “Oh God! Stop, please stop. Please stop.”
My Master sits back on his haunches, looking pleased with himself. “If that’s the result of leaving you for a few days, perhaps I’ll keep you waiting more often.” he comments, then stands and holds out a hand for me. “And if I may suggest, in future, keep some fresh underwear in your bag. I find that I want to make you drip.” Speechlessly, I nod.
“And now, to business. Shall we take a look at this apartment of yours?”
The apartment is one bedroomed, with a nice open-plan lounge-kitchen, a tidy little bathroom and a lovely view over the park. The area is good and the apartment is brand new. Everything sparkles, unlike my old, dismal flat with its peeling paint and smell of damp. I am so pleased to think that I will soon be living here.
Richard looks around quickly, and seems unimpressed. “It’s very small.” he comments.
“Yes, it is, but it’s big enough for just me. And the area is so much nicer than my old place.”
“What if you want friends to stay? Or your parents perhaps? And where can you work? There’s no real place for a desk, or bookshelves, unless you have them in your lounge.”
“It’s fine. You can’t have everything at once, and I can afford this now, which I certainly couldn’t before.”
Richard purses his lips. “Get your stuff from your old place. I’ll send Ross to help you out. There’s no reason for you to be in there any longer and I’d rather not risk you being there, just in case Mack Kane knows where you lived.”
A shudder goes down my spine. Mack had looked mad as Hell at me, but, surely, he wouldn’t be dangerous? Would he?
I nod and agree.
_______________
Ross drops Richard back at the office, then helps me pack my small number of possessions into the car, a few clothes and personal items, my steam-driven laptop, and my books. None of the furniture is mine, and I wouldn’t want it anyway in my lovely new apartment. When we return to the apartment block, Ross staggering slightly under the weight of a cardboard box full of books, the concierge gives me a key. I notice that he is wearing a fresh shirt and is now sitting upright and alert at his desk.
“You’ve given me the wrong one.” I say. “This is for 127A. Mine is 47A.”
“That’s the one Mr Haswell said I was to give you.”
“Oh. Right.” Puzzled, I take the lift to the twelfth floor, Ross following me.
The twelfth floor apartment is amazing. High above the city, the gorgeous park view is below, but now the view opens far, over buildings old and new, across the river and out to the hills beyond. There are three bedrooms, a huge lounge-diner overlooking those stunning vistas in three directions and a bathroom to die for, all polished glass and chrome fittings, and a jacuzzi.
I am torn between a broad grin and embarrassment.
“Where do you want this?” asks Ross, still weighed down under his load.
“Ermm… I’m not sure. Anywhere Ross. Just put it down.” I don’t know quite what to do next. “I can’t stay here. I can’t possibly afford it.”
Ross looks at me with a slightly pitying expression. “You’re working for Mr Haswell?”
“Er, yes…”
“So he pays your wages? He knows how much you earn?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s your landlord, so he sets the rent….”
“Err... Yes...”
“And he told the concierge to give you this key….?”
“Yes.”
“So this is the apartment you’re getting. And you can afford it. Now where do you want the stuff?”
He’s right of course. What else can I say? I look around my new glorious apartment. Where to put things?
“Just put them down anywhere Ross. I need to decide how to lay things out, and it’s not as though there is any furniture yet.
I spend the rest of the day arranging my things as best I can with no furniture. I am just deciding that I should go out to shop for a bed, a table and chairs and some other essentials when the door intercom buzzes. “Yes?”
“Hello Elizabeth. It’s me, Richard.”
He’s here!
“Oh come on up. It’s wonderful in here!”
A couple of minutes later, my Master enters, then drops the latch on the apartment door. “I don’t want to be interrupted right now.” he smiles.
I start to speak. “I want to say thank you…”
He puts a finger to my lips. “You’re welcome. But you can show me your thankfulness in better fashion. Now where….?” He glances around the lounge and then walks to the kitchen counter. “Come here, Elizabeth.”
I stand, obediently before him, as he tilts up my chin to kiss me on the mouth, then gradually pushes me backwards towards the counter.
“Take your skirt and panties off.”
Simply hearing him say the words excites me and I feel that inner warmth rising again. I unzip my skirt, letting it slide down to my feet before stepping out of it and kicking it to one side then slip down my already noticeably damp panties. Pretty and black though they are, they are not needed. My stockings are enough.
As I stand up straight again, my Master is unbuttoning my blouse, sliding his hands inside and then slipping it off my shoulders to also drop, discarded, to the floor. Then he unclips my bra to leave me in only the black stockings.
For a moment he stands back, just looking at me, then he unclips my hair and pulls it tumbling down over my shoulders, a tumbling red torrent to match the fox at my loins.
“
Undress me Elizabeth.”
I slip each shirt button slowly free, and then his cuffs, kissing the taut flat muscles of his abdomen as I do so. His bronzed skin contrasts sharply against the white linen of this shirt before it too falls to the floor. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers I am growing steadily wetter as I feel his already bulging erection. As I slide down his clothes, his hands push me down from the shoulders into a kneeling position, then, gripping my hair, pull my face towards him as his other hand guides his penis into my mouth.
I lick off the twinkling droplet from the tip, loving in the salty-sweet taste of his pre-cum. As my tongue and lips wrap around the head, his shaft twitches under me and I revel in the odd feeling of power it gives me to obey this man, my Master; to do his bidding in everything.
My mouth filled, I glance upwards to see him standing straight, head up and back, hands clasped behind his head. “Pay attention to what you are doing Elizabeth.” He says, and compliantly, I suck and lick his cock, feeling it pulse as I trail the tip of my tongue around the rim of the head, first flicking quickly, then making long sweeping strokes of my tongue, from the base of his shaft, full length to the crown, savouring his trickling juices as his lust rises.
I hear him take a gasp above me. “You’re so good at that Elizabeth, but in a minute you are going to stand, and I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
At his words I flood and gasp, feeling wet heat dribble down inside my thighs. He chuckles as he hears me. “You like that idea then?” and suddenly he bends, grasps me by the waist and lifts me, depositing my naked ass on the kitchen counter. “Spread ‘em.” he says, forcing my knees apart as he does so, and making me lean backwards to support myself. “Lie down.” he says, pushing me, flat handed, back down, onto the marble surface, then pulling me forward at the hips until his cock kisses into my pussy.
He thrusts for a moment, then stops. “Not wet enough yet, I think.”
I am not sure what he means by this, as it seems to me that I am already swollen and slippery for him, but he drops down and plants his mouth squarely over my pussy, thrusting in with his tongue, twisting and probing, drinking my juices. Involuntarily I heave and gulp, arching my back to raise my hips to him, locking my ankles behind his head to open myself fully to my Master.