Mastered by the Hired Man

by Melissa Harlow

  "Maybe you should treat us to a demonstration," Mr. James said harshly.

  Ms. Lenore blinked. "A demonstration?"

  "A masturbation demonstration," her husband quipped with a smile. "You won't have to pretend you're with Carlos since he's here. You can look at Carlos and rub your pussy until you come, right here in front of him. What do you think? Would you like that, Carlos?"

  Any answer he gave was going to be wrong, Carlos could sense that. He remained silent, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

  "I expect an answer when I ask you a question," Mr. James admonished, his tone of voice mocking, as usual. He lifted his eyebrows, an indication that he was tired of waiting. When Mr. James gave an order, he was accustomed to having it obeyed, and until today, Carlos hadn't realized that he treated his wife in the same manner that he treated his hired help.

  "No, Sir," Carlos mumbled. He tried changing the subject, "There's work I need to do, Sir. I really should get to it."

  "I have work for you here."

  Carlos met Mr. James' amused eyes. "What is it?"

  "I'd like you to punish her for me," he said, almost smiling.

  "Punish her?" Carlos parroted numbly, his mouth dry.

  "Well, she certainly hasn't behaved very professionally, has she? What kind of employer masturbates while imagining she's fucking the hired help? You've no reason to treat her with any respect, in fact I forbid it. She's behaved like a slut, and that is how you will treat her."

  Sweat beaded on Carlos' forehead. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt or disrespect Ms. Lenore. The thought of harming James was tempting, because he was not a nice man, but Ms. Lenore had always treated him well.

  "What do you want me to do to her?" Carlos asked cautiously.

  Mr. James looked his wife up and down. "Well, let's think about that, shall we? Masturbation seems like something a naughty little girl would do, doesn't it? Would you kindly tell Carlos what happens to naughty little girls, Lenore?"

  "They get ... sp ... spanked," Lenore whispered, her face flushed.

  "There you have it, Carlos – that seems like a fitting punishment. A spanking for Lenore! I'd like you to do it. Not love taps, either, give it to her hard. You have the arms for it; you could punish her very well." He smiled a genuine smile then.

  Carlos shook his head. "I don't..."

  "A hundred dollar bonus on your pay." James leaned back in his desk chair and linked his hands behind his head. "But then, Santiago would gladly do it for free, wouldn't he, Carlos? Now, wouldn't that be something to see! I think Santiago would find that idea quite entertaining."

  Carlos knew that was the truth, and Santiago would probably enjoy hurting her, taking out the anger that he had for Mr. James on his pretty wife.

  "Maybe you should go down and get him for me, Carlos. I didn't realize you wouldn't be capable of doing this job. Santiago is probably a much better choice."

  Carlos shook his head. "No, Sir. I ... I can do it." He didn't look at Ms. Lenore, feeling as though he was betraying her, but what choice did he have?

  "What do you think Lenore? Should I have Carlos go and get Santiago?"

  "No, Sir," she said softly.

  "And why is that Lenore?" Mr. James asked smugly.

  She cleared her throat, "Carlos can do it."

  "He can do it? Or you want him to do it?"

  "I want him to do it," her quivering voice was barely audible.

  "Don't tell me Lenore, tell Carlos."

  She was still blushing, her sweet, shy face turned towards him, but her eyes were lowered.

  "Carlos, I want you to spank me."

  His cock twitched at her voice, her words, and the thought. This couldn't be for real, they had to be playing some kind of trick on him.

  Mr. James clicked his tongue. "Listen to you, Lenore! You failed to ask him properly. There was no please, there was no Sir. Ask him properly or I'll have you kneel and beg Santiago to do it instead."

  Carlos heard her swallow. She approached his chair timidly, and knelt on the floor at his feet. "Please, Sir, I want you to spank me. Please, I don't want Santiago, I want you, Sir."

  Oh, hell no. This wasn't for real, could not possibly be real.

  "Lay over his lap, Lenore. Leave your panties on, give Carlos the satisfaction of pulling them down."

  Carlos could barely suppress a moan when Lenore obediently draped herself over his lap. The warmth and softness of her body against his was certainly for real. Her short floral print sundress slid up revealing her ass, covered in silk and lace-trimmed panties. Carlos timidly pulled her dress up higher, folding it at the small of her back with a shaking hand.

  He looked over at Mr. James, and when Mr. James nodded Carlos took a deep breath and slid down her panties, baring her round white ass. His cock stiffened.

  "Lenore, you are to thank him after each one," Mr. James told her.

  She squirmed on Carlos' lap, writhing against his growing erection. "Yes, Sir."

  "Begin Carlos," Mr. James said calmly.

  "Sir, I..." Carlos sputtered, trying to think of a way out of this.

  Mr. James' eyes narrowed. "I said begin!"

  His first blow was experimental, and gentle. He cupped his hand and brought it down softly on her right cheek, it was loud but he was fairly certain it wouldn't be too painful. Carlos glanced over at her scowling husband.

  "Thank you," she began, only to be interrupted by Mr. James.

  "That's hardly adequate, Carlos! I said to do it hard." He exhaled a disgusted sigh. "Why is it that you are incapable of following the simplest orders? Do you need an interpreter? You're worthless."

  Carlos tried swallowing his rage as he brought his hand down harder against Ms. Lenore's ass.

  She jerked on his lap, and managed a small, "Thank you, Sir."

  Sir. Her husband treated him like shit every day and here she was calling him Sir. He slapped her again, much, much harder. A bright pink handprint glowed on her ivory skin.

  "Thank you, Sir," she gasped.

  He had marked her, and he realized then if he bruised her, that those marks would be there for days. James Acheson would look at his beautiful wife's ass and know that just for a few minutes that she had belonged to his hired man.

  His hand crashed down in rapid succession, not giving her time to thank him. Her skin was glowing red, heat radiated from the bright welts he had raised. She cried out a few times, but he soon forgot that he must be hurting her as he focused his intentions solely on marking her.

  Her hands gripped his leg, fingers digging into him through the thick denim of his work pants. Not once did she try to pull away, instead she raised her ass, offering it to his hand. And he took it, savagely, slapping and pounding his palm down until his hand ached and stung. He felt her rubbing herself insistently against his hip as he swung.

  His arm was beginning to tire, but he continued, aware that Mr. James was watching him. He developed a steady rhythm, shifting his hand so that his palm hit her cheeks, but his fingers grazed lower. Her pussy, still covered, a mere graze of his fingers there was not what he wanted. He wanted to see ... to feel. His groin ached as badly as his arm.

  "Enough," Mr. James barked.

  Carlos stroked the welts tenderly, gliding his hand softly over the curve of her arched ass, imagining he was smoothing the pain away. His fingers brushed over her leg, and he felt the skin on her inner thighs was slick and moist.

  "Get up Lenore," Mr. James ordered.

  She stood, not facing Carlos, but Mr. James. Her dress shifted and slipped down over Carlos' handprints. Carlos looked down at his pants, and the wet spot were Ms. Lenore had pressed against him. He could feel his own wet spot inside his underwear, and his cock was still leaking.

  Mr. James used his arm and swept his desk clean. Folders, papers, and magazines fluttered to the floor.

  "Sit up here on the desk, Lenore."

  She sat gingerly on the edge of the massive oak desk, her face regi
stering pain.

  Guilt bubbled up inside of him. He shouldn't have hit her so hard – shouldn't have hit her at all. Things were out of control, Mr. James must be crazy.

  "Lay back and spread your legs," Mr. James said impatiently.

  Lenore shifted back on the desk, her bare legs dangling off of the edge. One of her sandals slipped off of her foot.

  "Bring her off Carlos," Mr. James said.

  "Pardon me?"

  "Are you an imbecile? Make her come, use your mouth."

  "Sir, I don't think..." Lenore began.

  "Be quiet, Lenore, you don't need to think. Let's see if Carlos can make you come. I don't believe that he can do it."

  Carlos' mind reeled for a moment, but as he looked at her sprawled on the desk he couldn't help imagining just how much he would enjoy proving that he could. Here was his chance to make up for the pain he had just caused her, his chance to taste the woman he'd dreamt of for the past year. He moved his chair to the end of the desk and positioned himself between her splayed legs.

  He grasped her thighs and slid her further down, towards him, and she whined as her bruised ass was dragged across the wood.

  Grabbing the soaked crotch of her panties Carlos moved it aside to give his mouth access. He vowed to make her forget that he had ever hurt her. He felt awkward with Mr. James sitting there, but the scent of her arousal made his mouth water.

  He took a moment to simply view the erotic sight of her swollen pink folds, open before him, admiring her tiny bud's fullness nestled snugly between the smooth lips of her pussy. Moisture glistened on her skin, liquid proof that while he may have hurt her that he also aroused her. Eagerly he dipped his head and flicked the tip of his tongue over her clitoris.

  At her first little coo of delight he forgot Mr. James was in the room, there was nothing, nothing else in the world right now except his lovely queen. When her sounds changed to whimpers of growing need, Carlos suckled at her clit, feeling it swelling in his lips.

  He slid his fingers into her entrance, testing the tightness of her with slow thrusts. He nipped her swollen pussy lips, sharp little bites to make her gasp and writhe. Then he licked the tender flesh, soothing it with laps of his tongue. Opening her wide with his thumbs he worked his tongue inside of her, thrusting in and pulling out in a slow steady rhythm, gradually increasing the speed.

  Her dress was damp with sweat and she writhed on the desk. She was so close, he could feel her arching up to meet his tongue. She ran her hands through his hair, moaning softly. Closing her thighs tighter around his head, she rocked her hips in time with his tongue's thrusts. Seconds away now, she would be there...

  "Lenore. You are not to come," Mr. James announced without any emotion in his voice.

  "But, Sir, I..." she stammered.

  "You heard me. You are not to come on his filthy tongue." James Acheson laughed, sounding cruel. "Now you understand, this is your test as well, Lenore. Can the man you fantasize about make you come, or, can you prove yourself to me, and resist him?"

  It wasn't fair to Ms. Lenore, but Carlos took it as a serious challenge. She was going to come – for him.

  Her body went stiff, her leg muscles rigid and tightly clenched. She fought now, fought letting go for him because her husband was playing some kind of game.

  Fuck James Acheson, he'd offered him this, was paying him for this, and Carlos would make certain that tonight when Lenore went to bed it would be him that she thought of, not her husband. His filthy tongue speared into her hungrily. The next time she masturbated she could remember the pleasure his mouth had given her, right here on this desk, with her husband only a few feet away.

  Lenore struggled to sit up, but Carlos wouldn't allow her. He pinned her thighs down tight to the desk with his elbows." Please," she whimpered, her tongue slipping enticingly from between her quivering lips, her eyes wide and moist. "Carlos, stop," she pleaded.

  Ignoring her plea he lapped at her clit again, two of his fingers replacing his tongue inside her.

  His cock throbbed in his pants, and he tried to ignore it. Lenore Acheson was only seconds away from letting go, he could taste it in her cream.

  Her body lifted towards him, Carlos felt powerful as he drove her to conclusion, bringing her spasming and throbbing against his mouth. He sucked her juices, drinking them in and swallowing with relish as she erupted in a long low moan. The sound filled him with pride. He'd serviced his queen well.

  And still, he did not stop. He lapped her gently and insistently through her climax, until her body responded, and when he sensed the time was right he sucked her clit back into his mouth until she shuddered and jerked. He eagerly licked her juices, spreading her lips with his fingers and tonguing them clean.

  He regarded the expression on her face thoughtfully. Slack with ecstasy, yet alive with joy, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The pride soared through him again that he had given her that. He had put that expression on her face. James Acheson could not take that away from him.

  Her face changed as Mr. James chuckled. The pleasure on Ms. Lenore's face vanished, replaced by heartbreaking pain and sorrow.

  "Oh, sweet Lenore. You've failed your test, my dear," Mr. James said coolly. "I believe you owe Carlos a proper thank you. Why don't you kneel down there and give him the same treatment that he just provided you?"

  "You don't want to see that, Sir" she cried.

  "No, I don't," he solemnly agreed.

  "I don't want to hurt you, Sir," she whispered to her husband, tears sliding down her face.

  "And how was I supposed to feel watching you come all over his face, Lenore?" He sounded hurt, but only momentarily, because his calm, cool demeanor quickly returned." Do you think that you have made me proud? I told you to resist, I gave you the opportunity to show me that you could not be satisfied by another man. You failed."

  Lenore scooted off of the desk and ran from the room crying. It hurt to watch her, and she seemed almost child-like, racing out the door wearing only one shoe.

  "Why are you doing this to her?" Carlos snapped. He'd always disliked Mr. James, but seeing him humiliate Ms. Lenore this way ignited a fresh hatred inside of him.

  Carlos rubbed his chin. It was wet, and he felt suddenly guilty. He'd probably humiliated her as badly as James Acheson had. Maybe more.

  James Acheson's hate filled eyes burned into him. "You are her gift, Carlos. This is only happening because she wants you. Quite honestly, I don't know what she sees in you. Lenore needs a strong man with confidence, a trait you seem to lack." He took out his wallet and casually tossed a hundred dollar bill on the desk.

  Carlos stared at him, Mr. James almost didn't seem real, his sallow skin looked as if it were made from wax. For a moment all of the hate seemed to drain from James Acheson and his eyes swirled with agony.

  "Whatever you think of me, Carlos, now or in the future ... Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you. I love my wife. There is nothing I would ever deprive her of. There is nothing that I have ever done to her that wasn't done with love, wasn't done out of love. Now, get back to work."

  Carlos rose from the chair choosing to ignore the money on the desk. When he turned, Mr. James called his name.

  "Your money, Carlos," Mr. James said.

  Carlos didn't turn around. "I don't want the money."

  He heard Mr. James chuckle. "What do you want then, Carlos?"

  Carlos' jaw tensed, and he squeezed his hands into tight fists. "I want your wife." He strode forward angrily, moving towards the door.

  "Make sure that my horses are properly fed and watered," Mr. James remarked, as if he hadn't heard what Carlos had just said. "When you're through, come back up here to the house."

  Carlos turned and stared at him. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

  "You refused my payment, but Lenore owes you her own form of compensation."

  Carlos shook his head. "She owes me nothing."

  "You don't know her Carlos, the things she feels, t
he way that she is. She's not a woman to just be given anything – she wants to earn what she gets."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means that she feels that she owes you, and aside from that, wherever she is right now, all she is thinking about is sucking your cock, Carlos."

  Carlos looked at him, speechless, in utter shock.

  "Which is precisely why you will come back here, and give her the opportunity to do exactly that. Oh, I'm not saying that she won't feign protest; I imagine she might, but only for my benefit. I'm not concerned about myself right now, this is about her, not me."

  Carlos' legs felt rubbery and weak. He could not do this.

  "Do you care for my wife Carlos?" James Acheson asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

  He was afraid to answer, but he summoned all of his courage and told the truth. "Yes."

  "Then you will come back. There is so much you need to know Carlos, and there is precious little time for you to learn it."

  "For me to learn what?"

  "To learn to master her."

  Carlos just looked at him, unsure what to say.

  "I own her. I can be cruel, or I can be kind, Lenore responds passionately to either. Lenore enjoys pain, and she has learned to crave punishment. There is a part of her that needs cruelty."

  Mr. James pursed his lips. "That is the part I'm afraid you'll neglect. I don't see it in you, and I'm not sure it can be taught." He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. "I'll expect you back here within an hour."

  CHAPTER THREE

  "You failed your test, my dear," James' words echoed over and over in her head. Not only had she failed that test, but she'd also left his office without permission. She scrubbed hard on the stovetop at invisible stains. The stovetop already gleamed but she rubbed it vigorously with cleanser and a scrubbing sponge, tears blazing in her eyes.

  "Lenore?" James' voice came from behind her.

  "I'm sorry," she said, throwing the sponge down.