ENSLAVED BY SHIFTERS

by Astrid Lee Donovan

  3

  It was past 2am by the time the team had packed up the ballroom.

  Now wearing a sensible pair of flats, Celia was waving off the last of her assistants in their corporate-booked taxi when the hotel’s concierge came jogging out the front.

  “Ah, David, I was just going to ask you where my taxi was. I swore I booked one for me.”

  “Actually, Celia, I’m glad I caught you. There was a booking change and a message has been left for you just inside.”

  Cursing under her breath, Celia traipsed back inside into the warmth of the hotel lobby.

  Handing over a folded piece of thick paper, Celia was surprised to see a handwritten scrawl:

  Celia, it was lovely talking to you. Just so you know, I didn’t need a removal truck after all and there was no lady involved; I have arranged for my private town car to take you home. Yours, Trent (T.A.) X

  “The town car is waiting for you out the front now,” David said.

  “Are you sure it’s a town car and not some creepy person posing as a town car driver?” Celia was mortified, and a little concerned that a stranger she had inadvertently insulted was paying for her trip home. David obliged and ran out to check.

  “It’s legit, Celia, the company received a booking shortly after 9:30pm by Avery Industries for one Celia McKenzie.”

  That was right after our conversation, Celia thought. Well, a free car is a free car.

  “Thanks, David. You know, if I don’t give you a call by 10am tomorrow could you alert Missing Persons?” she smiled and headed out the lobby.

  Exhausted and aching from the previous night’s event and a fitful sleep, Celia had barely made it through her office’s doorway before one of the agency’s two hyperactive receptionists intercepted her with a phone message emblazoned with the word ‘Important.'

  Taking, but not looking at, the message, Celia went into her office. It wasn’t until she saw the email icon on her desktop blinking furiously that she realized maybe something awful had happened at the event.

  To her relief and surprise, all the messages were from Avery Industries – the first one an email from Trent himself sent shortly after midnight.

  Celia, I have an event proposition for you. I’ll call tomorrow.

  The rest of her emails, and the one phone call, were from Trent’s P.A., Ben, asking how soon they could chat about some private functions.

  Before she could place her fingers to the keyboard to respond, her desk phone rang.

  “Yes?”

  “Sorry to bother you Celia, but it’s Ben from Avery Industries again,”

  “Put him through,” she sighed, then quickly plastered a smile on her face just as the phone call clicked over, “Hi Ben, it’s Celia here, I just got in the office and have your phone message in my hot little hands. What can I do for you?”

  “Hi Celia, it’s lovely speaking to you, but I’ll have to transfer you through to Mr. Avery himself.”

  There was another click, and Celia felt her stomach flip and her smile falter.

  “Celia?” boomed a voice. She was obviously on speakerphone.

  “Trent! Hi! I didn’t expect to speak to you. I, um, thank you for the car last night. You really didn’t have to as the agency sorts these things out for us, but I really appreciated it.”

  “My pleasure,” there was a tiny tap in the background, “you may have seen the email from me. I have an event proposition I’d like you to take a look at,” his voice was travelling around the speakerphone. Celia guessed he was putting a golf ball around his desk. Now that the conversation was obviously business based, Celia felt a scrap of her former confidence come to life.

  “Did you want me to put together a presentation for you and your team? Depending on the parameters I’m sure you’ll want to check that we can provide everything you need. How soon is this event?”

  “Three weeks.”

  Celia’s jaw dropped, “How many guests are you inviting?”

  “About 35-40. It’s an exclusive soirée that I plan to host at a waterfront property - you know the kind - canapés, invite only and security at the doors…”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Celia went mentally through her supplier lists to see which caterers and hiring companies might have something suitable for a high-class dinner party. “Well, when can I do a site inspection? I will have to get a few of my suppliers together to see how they can move things in and out.”

  “Funny you should say that,” she could hear the smile in his voice, “what are you wearing?”

  “Wh-what?” her heart leapt, thighs clenched and her pelvis rocked into the seat pressing down on the sudden throb.

  “Are you wearing pants?”

  Looking down at her dark denim jeans she nodded into the phone, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes?”

  “Great, I hoped to pick you up in about an hour, but I only have my bike so it works best if you’re wearing trousers so you can slip the leathers on overtop.”

  This encounter was starting to sound too much like a stalker-come-killer film. Celia decided to take things a different direction, “How did you get my email and place of work?”

  Trent laughed, “Yeah, sorry about Ben. He tends to get obsessive about tasks I need done. I didn’t go stalker-style on you. I asked the bartender after you left who you worked for and one of the staff members had your email address and… Google helped with the rest,”

  “Oh, well, that makes sense,” Celia went red, “I guess I’ll see you in an hour?”

  “Great, I’ll let you hang up this time. I can’t have you giving me dagger eyes from behind on the bike,” he chuckled.

  Unsure of what he expected, Celia gently settled the phone in to the cradle and let go of the breath she had been holding.

  4

  True to his word, Trent arrived an hour later sporting an incredibly well fitted set of leathers in blacks and blues.

  Handing Celia a folded set in greys and reds, Celia snuck into a toilet to get dressed and spent a few minutes battling her breasts to conform to the jacket’s tight cut. While her butt, calves and thighs looked incredibly muscular, her upper half looked less Sports Limited and more ‘I’m-wearing-a-pillow-for-support.'

  Earning a grin from Trent, Celia left the office to hoots of appreciation from her team and made her way as casually as she could to his waiting bike.

  The bike was larger than she expected, and even though she knew nothing about motorcycles this machine seemed to scream power and speed.

  Handing her a full face helmet, Trent slipped his on and showed her how to adjust the fit, his fingers playing carefully over her neck and jaw. Now that Trent looked like a cartoon character it was easier to relax. She listened to his instructions and half hopped and slid onto the seat behind Trent’s broad back.

  In an instant she felt the bike come to life and a gentle hum began to vibrate her seat. Concentrating on staying on the bike, she clung to Trent’s waist and let him mumble instructions on staying center and balanced.

  Starting slowly Trent let the bike ease gently to the end of the street, and feeling Celia’s confidence build, he revved the bike and let the tires bite down into the road. Together, they sped off.

  Finding the bike exhilarating, Celia let the constant hum of the bike fill her ears. Pressing herself down into Trent’s back she could feel the steady vibration of the bike press up through her leathers and poorly chosen thong. Trying to ignore the gentle throb that built between her thighs, Celia concentrated on the bends, but every bend tipped the front of her pelvis down and her clit closer to the vibrations. She felt gentle gooseflesh flow up her body and send her nipples puckering. Even as they passed cars and buses, Celia felt her thighs squeeze rhythmically against the vibrations; her panties growing damp and her clit grinding against the seat. Clenching and unclenching her hands for distraction, Celia’s lips parted to give a gentle moan. Her body needed filling. Unable to control the urge any longer, Celia gently rocked her hips back and f
orth along the seat, each drop of her hips sending her senses reeling. Her thighs were tightening and she balled her fists to try to hide the desire that grew hotly in her jeans.

  As they entered a residential area, the bike was dropped a gear and the vibrations flew to a new rhythm, sending her clit buzzing. Just as suddenly as it started, the bike changed gears again and the hum died. The bike revved again and as every rev lasted longer and longer, her wet, hot center clenched tightly repeatedly.

  Panting and sweating in the leathers, with the final rev at a stop sign, Celia felt her stomach drop and she ground her pelvis hard into the seat, arching her back as wave after wave of machine-driven bliss swept through her body. Panting, she could swear she could feel Trent’s chest rumble with a gentle chuckle. Finally taking a look at their location she realized she had an orgasm in the middle of a high-end beachside suburb not fifteen minutes from the office. Surely I couldn’t have been that horny, Celia thought.

  Pulling up to a large bricked entranceway that protected an even larger three-story monstrosity behind, Trent dug into his leather jacket and after a few moments of fumbling the security gates opened.

  Dribbling in to the driveway, Trent set the bike next to a legion of landscaper vans and motioned for Celia to slide off and remove her helmet.

  The house had very few street-fronted windows, but she guessed that the other side would have panoramic views of the glittering beach.

  “How long did it take to get here?” Celia’s blush had died down into the leathers.

  “Usually, about ten to fifteen minutes from where your office is,” Trent was shaking out his hair now that his helmet had been removed, “but this time I took the scenic route - you seemed to be enjoying yourself,” he grinned.

  Her face blanched with horror.

  “I never made a chick come on my bike before,” he smiled, “I have to say, it would’ve been cruel to cut it short. I thought it was rather,” Trent stepped forward and gently slid the zipper on her jacket down part way, “sexy.”

  Before she could think to respond Trent walked off toward the entranceway, “Take off the leathers and I’ll show you what you have to work with,” he called over his shoulder.

  5

  The house was spectacular. While outside appearances offered little to the imagination, the interior seemed to be ripped right out of a magazine. From the polished honey-colored floorboards to the oversized bedrooms and bathrooms, the house was opulent.

  Standing on the upper balcony overseeing a team of landscapers working furiously to build a broad deck around the pool-alfresco area, Trent surveyed the scene. He then pointed to the garden and pool to indicate where he wanted towels and pillow stations.

  “Towels and pillow stations?” Celia asked.

  “Yes, I need at least two in the bedrooms, three outside and another three each in the living, master bedroom and open plan kitchen.”

  “Why? What are you doing here? Who are you inviting?”

  Leading her back in to the house Trent pointed with disinterest at the various rooms they passed before heading down the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Do you see anything interesting about these rooms?” he asked.

  “Well, they’re gigantic, but no - not really,”

  Trent got to the freezer and cracked a tray of ice cubes onto a towel.

  “Really?” he said, concentrating on scooping the ice into a bowl. With the final cube in the bowl, Trent pressed his palms down onto the towel.

  “This house was built by me for a purpose. Everything is super-sized and durable to put up with the amount of people that come through here for my special parties,” he said quietly.

  “And…?” Celia still wasn’t getting it.

  Trent sighed, “They’re orgies Celia, I run regular orgies and swing parties here and in a few other locations for some of the country’s most private, powerful, beautiful and distinguished people.”

  Trent left the kitchen bench and pointed to the living space not a few feet from them, “You know why there are so many ottomans there? They are the best for people to straddle, fuck on and receive a good blowjob. The bedrooms are so large because I like two king-sized beds to be pressed together for invitation-only fucks,” Trent held out his hand, Celia took it and let him lead her to the sunken cinema room.

  Sliding behind her, Trent placed his broad hands on either side of her waist and spoke gently into her ear.

  “This, Celia, is where I have wall-to-wall cushions, pillows, blankets and throws. A few good pornos run in the background, but this,” his right hand glided up her ribs to cup her right breast, “this,” his thumb gently circled her erect nipple, “is where beautiful bodies thrust and lick and cum. Do you see those padded benches underneath the cinema screen?”

  Celia nodded, her breath and voice uncontrollable with Trent’s hands stroking her breast.

  “That’s where people like to watch,” his left hand skimmed her hip and slid down to her crotch, his thick fingers pressing and rubbing the denim seam that laid against her moistened lips.

  “On top of being a professional, I find you incredibly sexy and I can tell you enjoy playing with bad things. I think I can trust you with this event. Can I trust you with this?” Trent pressed his stiffening crotch up against Celia’s lower back.

  Again, Celia nodded, her body a messy knot of feelings and urges.

  “Celia, I would very much like to take off your panties and taste you, would you like that?”

  Melting into his body Celia spun and locked her mouth onto his. He cupped her face and gently stepped back, taking her hands and leading her back in to the kitchen.

  Standing her back to the kitchen island so she could see out of the panoramic windows, Trent deftly unbuttoned her shirt as he kissed and licked her collarbones. Wriggling out of the shirt, Celia reached back and unclipped her lacy black bra, sending her large D-cup breasts puckering against Trent’s leathers. Bowing his head, Trent’s lips found her dark nipples and alternated kissing and sucking.

  Celia grappled with her jeans and kicked off her shoes, sending the dark denim scrunching to her feet.

  “What do we have here,” Trent stroked his fingers along the length of the pussy-dampened fabric and slipped the thong down over Celia’s hips. Trent gently boosted Celia up onto the cold surface of the kitchen island and licked and sucked at her nipples again, gently easing her to lie onto the counter. Trent’s kisses played down the length of Celia’s stomach and navel, coming to a rest just before her manicured triangle.

  Sliding both hands on the insides of her knees, Trent gently pressed her legs apart and nuzzled his mouth over her throbbing clit.

  Celia could feel her pussy was slick with wanting, his strong tongue swirling endlessly around her bead and toying with her pussy. Clutching her breasts, she arched her back and thrust her hips up into his mouth, feeling the tip of his tongue penetrate her throbbing opening.

  “I don’t think I can last much longer,” Trent gasped as he stood up.

  “The couch?”

  Celia peeled herself off the cool slab and fumbled with Trent’s leathers, her hot center was soaked with need and the thought of having this guy ride her into oblivion was too intoxicating to let go.

  Taking her hands away from the zipper, Trent unzipped himself just past his crotch, letting his thick erection spring free.

  “Wow…incredible,” Celia wrapped her hand around the shaft and gave a firm stroke. The head of his cock emerged glistening and red.

  Lying on the couch, Celia opened her thighs and let her fingers stroke her clit, “I’m ready,”

  Kneeling on the cushions, Trent moved her hand away and slipped two of his fingers into her pussy, sending Celia moaning and writhing as his fingers pressed her g-spot while his thumb played with her ever hardening clit.

  Celia reached for his hand, pulled him from her hot grip and sunk his wet pussy-covered fingers into her mouth.

  Grinning, Trent angled his cock and pressed the ti
p of his length into her pussy. The lip of his head found a wet, warm resistance that made his balls lift and clench.

  Easing back out he pressed again, this time her pussy opened to let just another hard inch of him enter. Repeatedly his pulled and fed his throbbing length into her aching pussy while Celia moaned and massaged her spilling breasts with every thrust.

  Finally working his cock to the hilt, Trent started thrusting his maddening sex deeper and deeper, her wetness enveloped his cock.

  Taking her hands, he pressed them down in the couch above her head and continued to plunge into her, the force of his thrusts sending her breasts swaying erotically.

  Suddenly, Celia’s pussy tightened, sending Trent almost to the brink, “People are watching,” she murmured.

  “Do you want to stop?” Trent brought his face down close to hers, so he could see who she was looking it. There were a team of foreign gardeners, possibly students working for extra cash, peeking over one of the bushes. Trent could see the wild excitement in Celia’s eyes.

  “No, it’s turning me on,” she bit her lip.

  “An exhibitionist,” he smiled, “let me take you from behind then,”

  Sliding his rigid length from her tight wetness, he pulled her up to standing and turned her around.

  Bending at the hips, Celia reached through her legs and clasped her hand around Trent’s cock and guided him in to her.

  Peeking through the curtain of hair that fell across her face, Celia could see the gardeners move around to take a better view.

  Trent pumped his cock inch-by-inch back into Celia’s pussy; her lips had tightened again during the brief interlude.

  Feeling his thickness slide inside of her Celia let out a loud animal moan, her pussy flooded with juice and she leaned back into his thrusts, the power sending her heavy pendant swaying against her huge breasts.