Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine
Chapter One I knew the moment I entered the conference room that I was in deep do do. There were six partners in the law firm I worked for—two were brothers, the others their buddies from college—and all six were waiting for me, their expressions eloquent of condemnation—accusation. Guilt immediately assailed me. It was a strange quirk of my nature that I always felt guilty whenever anyone looked at me accusingly, even if I couldn't remember having done anything I should feel guilty about. What the hell had I done? Or not done? I looked at them wide eyed, trying to swallow the knot of abject terror that was slowly working its way up my throat. My life was flashing before my eyes, however, job hunting, and eviction—sleeping in my car—and to save my life I couldn't begin to guess what I'd done. I'd been working at the firm for a grand total of three weeks. Thus far, I'd had a crush on three of the hunks that practiced law in between rounds of racquetball, tennis—and dating scary beautiful, painfully (for me) young women. Not that any of them actually knew I existed as a woman. Fresh out of a ten year, going no where relationship, my selfconfidence was at an all time low, partly because of my ex, and partly because I was a realist at heart—or maybe a pessimist? Some people argued that there was a difference between the two. To me, they were like conjoined twins— virtually the same in every way that counted. In a world that idolized youth and anorexia, I was staring hard at that dreaded mid-thirty mark, and my size twelve/fourteen figure wasn't considered a 'classic' hourglass. It was bordering on elephantitis. I still wasn't sure why they'd given me the job. I was fresh out of tech school. I didn't have experience, looks, or youth to recommend me. The only thing I could figure out was that it was because I came cheap—or maybe because they didn't want a distraction. It was certainly a lowering thought, but probably close to the mark, pessimism not withstanding. The front desk girl was their 'type'—a size one, fresh faced because she hadn't even turned twenty yet, and from an upper scale family with upper scale money. She was working on her internship and was clearly going somewhere in life. She had looks, youth, money, and no compunction about using every weapon at her disposal to get where she was going. She generally treated me the same way the partners did, as if I was transparent. Occasionally, I would catch her giving me speculative looks, as if she was sizing me up—there wasn't a doubt in my mind
that she was planning on having a wedding ring on her finger before she graduated and she didn't particularly care which of the partners it was—but there was far more contempt or plain old disgust in her expression than anything I could interpret as 'sizing up the competition'. I imagined that she was thinking she wasn't going to be a loser like me and find herself alone, staring at middle age, fat, and barely making minimum wage. I shifted uneasily when none of the partners said a word, merely studying me, their handsome faces hard, uncompromising—sort of like they must look when they were standing in a courtroom. "You wanted me, Mr. Justice?" I squeaked in a voice I hardly recognized, unable to bear the continued silence. At thirty five, Lyle Justice was the 'senior' partner. His brother, Colin, was the youngest at twenty nine. I'd gone into rapture mode the moment I set eyes on Lyle for the first time but it hadn't taken me more than two days to figure out I was way out of my depth with that one. Not that I thought that there was any danger of getting too familiar with him, but he was way too sharp even to consider it. Besides, he scared me almost as much as he turned me on. Lyle's eyes narrowed. "Someone has compromised a very important case we're working on, Marlee," he responded coolly. "We stand to lose a substantial amount of money if we lose the case." I blinked—several times—rapidly. Case? I knew next to nothing about the law and I didn't know diddly squat about their cases. Except for catching a word here and there that Perry Mason couldn't have put together, I didn't even have a clue of what they were doing for whom. My duties included filing, typing, watering the plants and keeping the reception area tidy. "Someone?" I asked in a strangled voice. I was no rocket scientist, but it didn't take one to figure out the 'someone' they suspected was me. It hit me right between the eyes then that this wasn't actually an inquisition. The truth was, I'd already been tried and convicted and was facing the penalty faze. "We tracked your activities on the net," Stuart Kendall said coldly. I turned to stare at the gorgeous blond that I'd imagined looked like a young Redford. My mind was so busy scurrying around in circles I couldn't imagine what kind of net he was talking about at first. "Net? You mean the internet?" His lips tightened. "The chat rooms." Again I blinked in surprise. This time, though, I could feel blood surging back into my cheeks and it didn't stop at relieving me of the dead, lifeless look I'd probably had when all the color left my face. It brought pulsing heat with it. "I ...
uh ... I ... uh. You mean the singles thing?" I asked a little weakly, trying to figure out how me trying to get a frigging date added up to cutting my bosses' throats in court. The partners all exchanged a look. "I know I shouldn't have—but I only did it on my breaks. I didn't know I wasn't allowed. Vic ... Victoria showed me," I ended, feeling like a five year old who'd been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar and who was desperate for someone to blame—or to at least share the blame. I couldn't quite interpret the look that announcement provoked. There were a lot of raised brows. "Victoria?" Lyle repeated. He began tapping a pen rhythmically on the conference table. "You and she are buddies, then?" My mouth worked, but no sound emerged. I imagined I must look like a guppy out of water. The mental image didn't help my feelings at all. "Uh ... no." "But she showed you how to get to the chat room?" I shrugged. Again, I had the sense of being a five year old called to account. 'What did you do it for?' Shrug. 'I don't know.' "We were just talking one day and she was telling me she met a lot of really nice guy—people on the net. And she showed me how to get to the chat rooms she visits." I looked at them a little hopefully, but they didn't seem to be mellowing a great deal. "I should've asked. It's just ... it never occurred to me that it wasn't OK ... since she showed me. And she didn't say I had to ask permission." He studied me for several hard moments and finally turned to the others. "What do you think?" They discussed it at length, as if I wasn't present. I could only follow part of the discussion, however, because they kept using a lot of words, computer jargon I assumed, that I wasn't familiar with. I hadn't wanted anyone to know that I was virtually computer illiterate. I'd never owned one, never had much use for one, for that matter, but I knew that was not the sort of thing one announced when one was trying to get a job in this day and age. Now I was really, really sorry that I hadn't admitted that I didn't know much of anything about a computer, certainly not in the sense that I could surf the net with the ease everyone else seemed to. I could type—or keyboard—because I'd been taught that much in school and I figured I had a good understanding of word-processing software. Otherwise, I didn't know much more than how to turn one on. "Did Victoria use the computer in the back room?" I went back to blinking. "I don't know ... I mean except for the time she showed me how to 'connect'." "She's trying to say she inadvertently gave them a
backdoor to hack in?" Charles Blake demanded. "Do you buy that? I don't buy that!" Backdoor? Somebody hacked in? I felt the blood rush from my face guiltily again. "We got hacked?" They all turned to stare at me. "I mean, you got hacked?" Lyle's lips flattened with annoyance. "What do you think we've been discussing for the past twenty minutes?" he demanded irritably. Anger surged through me. "I haven't a clue!" I snapped. "I don't even know what I'm being accused of." "Giving information to the other side concerning the case," Colin said angrily. "What case?" I gasped. "We'd be well within our rights to prosecute to the fullest extent of the law," Billy Worth drawled. "Prosecute?" I echoed, feeling a little faint as the full implications of that settled into the pit of my stomach like an ice cube the size of an infant. "Jail time. You can bet on it. Unless you start talking...." I turned to look at Michael Bennett as he spoke for the first time. "Jail time? Me?" I echoed, stunned enough to find my tongue. "Because someone hacked in?" "Because you're an accessory in a computer crime at the very least ... if we take your word for it that you didn't willingly and knowingly commit the crime yourself. And don't think for one minute we couldn't make the charges stick." I thought for several horrible moments that I was going to faint, be sick, or burst into tears. I would've been willing to try all three if I'd thought for one moment it might gain me a little pity. I didn't believe that, though, and I had no desire to humiliate myself if it wasn't for a good cause. I sucked my lower lip to keep it from trembling while I waited to see what the verdict was. Colin and Michael leaned close and exchanged words. Michael passed it down. I watched, waiting until it reached Lyle. He studied me for several moments in silence. "We're going to keep digging. Don't even think about going anywhere in the meantime. If you run, we'll have no choice but to consider you guilty and swear out a warrant." This was way worse than getting fired. I found it hard to accept that I could be facing criminal charges when I hadn't a clue of what I'd done to deserve it. I couldn't believe I might actually end up in jail—me—but then a goodly portion of criminals were in jail for the same thing I'd been accused of— stupidity and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It took me several moments to realize I'd been dismissed. Finally, I nodded numbly and left the conference room. The remainder of the day was a fog. I watched uneasily as Stuart
and Billy shouldered up to the computer I'd allegedly used to open them up for the hacker and stared at the monitor screen for hours on end, punching keys, loading programs. I had no idea what they were doing, but just watching them was enough to make my sphincter clench because I had an awful feeling that some of that so called 'net talk' that Victoria had taught me was the real culprit. I couldn't believe I was still so gullible I was such an easy mark to a girl that was almost young enough to be my daughter. It had to have been her. I knew it. I just couldn't figure out how, or even why. It wasn't as if I was any sort of threat to her. It occurred to me later, toward quitting time that, maybe, she'd just needed a patsy. Apparently, all those times I'd caught her sizing me up, I'd been right, just wrong about the motivation. Whatever it was she was doing, she was doing it for money, but she obviously figured she'd need a scapegoat if they got on to her and her luck had been fabulous. The only person handy enough to pin it on just happened to be a gullible idiot. Unfortunately, as little as I knew about law, I realized that one) it would be next to impossible to prove I just didn't realize what she was getting me to do. And, two) it didn't really matter whether I'd known or not. Under the law, ignorance and/or stupidity weren't an excuse. The only thing convincing them of 'one' might possibly do would be to lighten my sentence and I didn't want to have to face any sentence at all. Maybe I could get off with just probation? It took every ounce of nerve I could muster to save my life to tap on Lyle Justice's door that afternoon as I was leaving. When he summoned me, I crept into his office with my tail almost literally between my legs, ready to beg, ready to promise anything if he'd just not put me in jail, not bring charges. I had a bad feeling my background couldn't withstand the scrutiny. I knew I didn't want to put it to the test. I'd been running for nearly two years. My ex wasn't the sort of man that took rejection well. I'd thought, or at least hoped, that his obsession would blow over fairly quickly once the divorce was finalized. Instead, the nasty tricks had gotten progressively more hazardous to my health. When it had finally occurred to me that, yes, I too could become one of those statistics—one of the thousands of women whose boyfriend or husband made them permanently disappear because they just didn't believe they could actually be a victim—I'd started running. He found me within a month the first two times. The third time, I invented a completely new identity, played cloak and dagger, and put three states between us.
If it hadn't been for the fact that I hadn't seen a sign of the bastard in a solid year, I'd have been tempted to blame this latest threat to my pursuit of happiness on him. After all, he had tried to have me jailed for trafficking drugs before, paid a cop to plant them. It was just sheer dumb luck that I'd found the drugs first and flushed them down the toilet before the cops arrived. "You have something to say?" he asked, his entire demeanor uncompromising. My mouth felt as if I'd been sucking on salt cubes. I swallowed with an effort. "I just wanted to say that whatever was done, it was just plain stupidity on my part, not maliciousness. I know that isn't an excuse and I'm still liable for my actions. I will gladly offer restitution." "Restitution?" I'd managed to get that far without stammering too much, but I hadn't really thought the scenario through from that point onward. I shrugged, waiting for inspiration to come to me. "Weekends, holidays, extra hours. I don't have any money. I don't even have anything I could sell. But I'd be glad to furnish labor toward payment for my ... uh ... error and I'd be willing to do whatever you wanted. I could clean your apartments, wash the cars—do the lawn." His eyes narrowed speculatively. He looked me over thoroughly from head to foot, almost as if actually seeing me for the first time. I wondered what was going through his mind at that point. When he told me, I felt very, very ill. "If we lose this case because of the breach in security, we stand to lose our percentage—1 to 3 million. How many weekends of mowing the lawn and cleaning do you think it would take to pay that back?" I couldn't think of an answer. I'd never been any good with math, but I figured the answer to that question was somewhere in the neighborhood of a couple of my lifetimes. I had to remind myself that this was a cold blooded lawyer. Crawling around on the floor and blubbering like a baby wasn't going to help me one iota, not when he had that much money riding on the scope of my screw up. Finally, I managed to nod. I don't even remember getting to my car, or getting from the office to my tiny apartment. It scared the hell out of me when I realized I was sitting in front of my apartment building, though, and I got out and checked the car carefully for any sign that I'd been involved in an accident. Relieved when I didn't find any new scratches, dents—or worse—blood and hair, I went into my apartment and collapsed, yielding to the hysteria I'd been fighting off all day. Two days of abject terror followed, although they felt like weeks, months. About half way through the second day,
Victoria was called into Lyle's office. I could hear his quiet, cool voice every time I passed his door. I couldn't get out of range of hearing Victoria's shrill, half hysterical denials, her weeping, her threats. Mid afternoon, she left the office, as pale as I'd no doubt been. She arrived at her usual time the following day, however, and the tentative hope that had been trying to gain a foothold vanished. She was still there. She hadn't been arrested ... which meant I wasn't off the hook. Three days after I was first accused, I was called into the conference room again. I knew what was coming. This time I was going to hear the verdict and receive my sentence. Two reflections guided my feet in that direction. One) I was tired of running and, two) the idea of being hounded both by the law firm and my ex was something I just couldn't face. I was going to take my 'medicine' for being incredibly stupid and gullible and then I was going to get on with my life.
Chapter Two I'd been standing uneasily at the foot of the table for a good five minutes, feeling the stinging discomfort of six assessing gazes before anyone spoke. Finally, everyone turned to look at Lyle and nodded. I looked at Lyle, too, wondering what the nod signified. Agreement? But on what? Lyle picked up his pen and began tapping it on the table top, his eyes narrowed, as if he was mentally reviewing what he had to say. "The other day, when you came into my office, you expressed deep regret for your part in this break-in and offered restitution. Are you still of the same mind?" A sense of relief, inevitability and absolute dejection swept over me. I was going to get the chance to pay for my crime without going to jail, but I was never going to be free again. Dragging in a sustaining breath, I answered, "Yes." The partners shared silent communication again. Finally, Lyle nodded. "Good. At this point, we only know we've been breached. We don't know how bad it is, or how it will effect the case. We've got six months to try to recover the slip—but that isn't your problem—yet. We're going to give you a six month probationary period and see how it works out. If we manage to recover ourselves and the trial goes our way, and if you've shown yourself completely contrite for your part in this and willing to work off your debt in whatever manner we see fit, then we will consider letting you off for good behavior at that point." I stared at him, afraid to hope for the best. The 'ifs' in that statement seemed to leave a lot of room for jail time. I had six months, though, and I might be able to convince them to let it go at that, or, if they lost the case because of my error in judgment, to convince them to let me continue serving my time with them. I was willing to do pretty much anything that would keep me out of jail. I noticed Lyle was playing with the pen thoughtfully, waiting, I supposed, until I'd had time to fully appreciate what they were offering me. I forced a smile. "You won't regret it." None of them smiled back. "You haven't heard what we'll be expecting from you." I blinked. "I'll do it, whatever it is." "Anything?" I nodded. "Take off your blouse." My eyes widened. I looked around at the others, wondering if this was some sort of joke. "Excuse me?" "The blouse—the pants, too. We want to see what we're getting." I simply stared at him, absolutely dumbfounded, convinced
I'd either heard him wrong or that it was some sort of bizarre joke—like, I take off all of my clothes and then they laugh uproariously? Public humiliation? They began to look very displeased. Unnerved, I grabbed the front of my blouse and began fighting with the buttons. When I'd removed it, I dropped it on the floor and stared at them for several seconds before I realized they were still waiting. Slipping my shoes off, I unfastened my slacks and pushed them down my legs. Straightening, I braced myself for gales of laughter. When none came, I risked a look at them to see if they were smirking, or trying to refrain from laughing. They weren't. Instead, all six were looking me over critically, but with interest. "The granny gear will have to go," Charles said finally. Everyone nodded. "Take off the bra and panties," Lyle commanded. Embarrassed, feeling as if I was caught up in some kind of bizarre dream, I did as I'd been ordered. The looks I got this time were far warmer and it stirred warmth in my belly despite my certainty that they were just having fun with me. "She'll do," Lyle announced. Neither Charles nor Michael looked completely satisfied, but they didn't disagree when Colin, Billy, and Stuart all seconded Lyle's approval. I was allowed to dress again. I did so with relief, listening with half an ear to the discussion going on between the six men. Slowly but surely it sank in upon me that the restitution I was offering was the use of my body. It was a stunning conclusion, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was hopefulness that had made me think so, but I could hardly dismiss it when they were discussing the ground rules right in front me. It became abundantly clear that they considered they owned my ass. No wasn't to be a part of my vocabulary. Reluctance to perform anything asked would be considered a strike against me—I had no idea how many strikes would end up being 'not good behavior' and count against me at the end of the six months. I was too stunned to know how I felt about the situation, but my body had a mind of its own and I began to feel uncomfortably warm and moist and aroused only from the discussion. I tried to tamp my rising excitement by reminding myself that this was for their benefit, not mine. I was to please them in whatever way they saw fit. It didn't necessarily follow that any of my wants or needs would be met and I was pretty much a prude when all was said and done. I didn't exactly
have a lot of experiences to draw from. Doggy style was about as adventuresome as I'd ever gotten before and I hadn't been terribly thrilled when my ex had introduced me to that. What if they demanded that I do something I'd never done before? Something I wasn't comfortable about? I studied them one by one. I'd do it ... because whatever it was it still beat the hell out of prison time. It beat the hell out of trying to run again, trying to start over somewhere else. Finally, they appeared to settle it between themselves. "Go with Colin and Billy. They'll see that you're outfitted to suit us. I'll meet the three of you at the mall in a couple of hours and we'll check out the apartment." Questions of all sorts trembled on the tip of my tongue, but went unasked. Meekly, I followed Colin and Billy out to the parking lot and got in the backseat of Colin's car. In a general way, I didn't consider myself a meek person. I wasn't aggressive by any means, but I usually managed to find the backbone to take up for myself when necessary. Currently, however, I was still too frightened and bewildered even to consider balking. The 'mall' they took me to wasn't one I'd ever visited. In fact, it wasn't what I thought of as a mall at all, and the shop they took me to wasn't one I had ever set foot in in my life. It was extremely doubtful that I ever would have, either, not by choice. Colin and Billy seemed perfectly comfortable and familiar with the place, though. Without hesitation, they followed the salesclerk off to examine the bustiers. I trailed along behind them, humiliated when I had to yield up my size, and then even more embarrassed when the clerk informed us they didn't have much of a selection that was 'that big'. She still managed to find nearly a dozen different styles and colors. Colin and Billy followed me to the dressing room and examined each one as I tried it on. They bought them all, including matching stockings. When we left that store, we went to another that was wilder still. I had no clue of what half the things they bought were for. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but I had the feeling I was going to find out. When they'd collected what they wanted from the 'toy' store, we drove to the mall I'd thought we were going to to start with. Neither Colin nor Billy behaved with any more restraint or discretion there than they had at the other stores. It only took the clerk about two seconds to realize that they were doing the buying and the choosing. She kept giving me speculative looks, which I chose to ignore. Lyle met up with us as we left that store and the four of us
left the mall together. We split up then, Colin and Billy going off alone while I got in with Lyle and gave him directions to my place. He looked it over skeptically when I'd let him in the front door. "It's just as well I made other arrangements. This won't do at all." I stared at him blankly, too stupefied to figure out what he meant. "Pack your personal things, but leave the clothes. They won't do. I'll have someone come over and pack the rest up for you and put it in storage." Like a robot, I went into my room, dragged a suitcase out of my closet and packed. He drove out of the city. After nearly an hour, he turned off on a long, winding drive and I discovered we were near the river. Tidy log homes dotted the well kept grounds. I recalled overhearing Colin or Lyle mentioning the 'fishing cabin' they co-owned that was on the river and supposed this was it. My entire apartment could have been set down in the great room with room to spare I discovered when Lyle unlocked the door and ushered me in. "You'll be staying here for now. We all have keys, so you should be prepared to receive company at any time," Lyle murmured as he guided me through the house and up the stairs to a bedroom just at the top. That was a polite way of putting it I thought wryly, feeling tension coil in the pit of my stomach as I stood in the doorway and looked around the room. "Just set the suitcase down anywhere. The bathroom's through there," he said, dropping the packages he'd carried in on the bed and pointing to a door on one side of the room. He glanced at his watch. "We need to get back, but you have time to change ... and do something with your hair. I don't like it like that." I looked at him blankly, uncertain of just what I was supposed to do with my hair. I always wore it pulled tightly into a neat bun when I went to work. I'd thought it looked 'professional'. It might have, but not the profession I was apparently about to be introduced to. Nodding mutely, I watched as he strode back through the door. He hadn't told me which outfit to put on, so I supposed at least some decisions were to be left to me. I'd just stripped to my bra and panties and was trying to figure out how to get into the bustier I'd chosen when Lyle stuck his head in the door again. "I thought so. Ditch the bra and panties." My mouth dropped open. "But ... this is all I have ... with me." "Exactly."
I wasn't terribly comfortable with the command, but I reminded myself that I'd not only agreed to do 'anything' to stay out of jail, I'd practically begged him to let me. I couldn't very well quibble over it now. Well, I could, but I didn't like the alternative any better now than I had to begin with. It was just sex, after all. I'd managed to stomach ten years of sex with my ex. I ought to be able to do six months with six attractive-to-not-bad lawyers. I ditched the bra and panties. By the time I'd managed to struggle into the bustier and fasten the stockings with the straps attached at the bottom, I was clammy with nerves and I felt more naked than if I had been naked. I was also having problems breathing, but I couldn't tell if it was because I wasn't accustomed to having anything snug over my ribcage, or if I was trying to hyperventilate from nerves. The skirts were shorter than I was used to—actually, I wasn't used to skirts at all. I'd bought dress slacks for work. The rest of the time I wore jeans. I had the horrible feeling my bare ass was hanging out of the bottom on the dress. I couldn't tell by feeling, but there sure as hell was a breeze blowing over my buttocks and between my legs. The top was knit and fitted. When I had it on, I could see my nipples poking through like hard little rivets. Trying to calm my racing pulse, I headed for the door before I remembered the hair. Pivoting on my heels, I went into the bathroom and pulled the pins out, letting my dark auburn hair fall around my shoulders. Shrugging, I grabbed a brush off of the vanity and combed it. The short hair in the front kept flopping over my eyes, but somehow I didn't think he'd be thrilled if I pinned it back with bobby pins. "Ready?" I jumped when he bellowed up at me. Scurrying from the bathroom, I hurried to the head of the stairs. I wasn't used to wearing heels either and gripped the banister in a white knuckled fist as I slowly descended. When I got to the bottom, I noticed Lyle was looking flushed, his eyes glittering. He examined me from head to toe for a good minute. "Better," he finally pronounced, grasping my arm just above the elbow and leading me from the house again. "You think you can find your way out here without any problem?" I nodded. I wasn't sure if I could speak. My tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of my mouth. My belly was shimmying inside like baked Alaska. I could feel my pubic bush tickling my leg and had to curl my fingers into fists to resist the urge to do something totally uncouth—like scratch.
I could also feel the air conditioning wafting across my pussy. It made goose bumps all along my thighs. It was like having someone blow a cool breath across it and made it impossible for me to get my mind off of my pussy. This was going to take some getting used to. To my surprise, everyone was working as usual when we got back to the office. As if nothing at all had changed, Lyle handed me some letters to type up and settled at his desk. Feeling strangely let down—feeling strange all the way around, I went to work. My first indication that absolutely everything had changed occurred when I was called into the conference room again about an hour before quitting time. This time, a chair was sitting at the foot of the table. It had been pulled back nearly against the wall. The partners were reading over something when I came in, but Lyle lifted his head. "Lock the door and then take off the blouse and skirt." My belly jumped, but after only a brief hesitation, I moved to the door and locked it, then pulled the top and skirt off. When I straightened, I saw I had their undivided attention.
Chapter Three "You can sit in the chair ... for now." I sat, crossing my legs. After glancing at me several times, Billy got up and moved toward me. Catching my upper leg, he lifted it and placed it over one arm of the chair, then reached down and grasped the other leg and hooked that one over the opposite chair arm. I could feel a blush rising in my cheeks as my nether lips parted and air caressed my exposed pussy. He stared at my pussy for several moments and finally got down on his knees and dragged his tongue along my cleft. It was as if a current of electricity had sizzled along every nerve ending in my body. Goose bumps popped out all over me. I wouldn't have thought it possible for my nipples to get any harder, but they did, tightening until it felt as if they were being pinched. Parting the flesh around my pussy with his fingers, he began to suck my clit. Heat rushed through me. My position in the chair and the restrictive bustier worked against me. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Despite everything, I was acutely conscious that we weren't alone and, with an effort, lifted my head. The other five partners were watching, their faces taut, their eyes slumberous with desire. I bit my lip to keep from moaning as he continued his pleasurable assault. Just as I was beginning to feel as if I would cum, however, he pulled away. Getting to his feet, he leaned down and sucked each nipple briefly, and then returned to his seat. My body was buzzing, my mind too chaotic to make sense of anything. I realized that that was all I was going to get, however, and straightened. "No. Keep your legs there," Lyle ordered. I paused in the act of putting my legs down and returned them to the arms of the chair. They went back to business, but I hadn't a clue of what they were discussing and couldn't have cared less. I couldn't think about anything but my cooling cunt and the discomfort of being left hanging. Minutes dragged by. Finally, Lyle signed the paper he had been reading, passed it down and then rose from his chair. Pausing in front of me, he reached down and began teasing my clit with his finger. Heat and moisture instantly began to gather in my sex and I caught my breath. After a moment, he slipped his finger downward and pushed inside of me until his knuckles were brushing my nether lips. Leaning closer, he caught one of my nipples between his lips and began sucking it as he thrust his finger in and out of me.
I lost my breath entirely for several moments, had to struggle to drag in a breath of air. A moan slipped out before I had time to consider stopping it. Almost as if that was what he'd been waiting for, he withdrew. Straightening, he returned to his chair. When he'd seated himself, he unzipped his pants and pulled his engorged cock free of his trousers. Crooking a finger at me, he summoned me from the chair. Swallowing with an effort, I moved to stand in front of him, staring down at his cock as if I'd never seen one before. I hadn't seen his. It was ... huge. Catching my wrist, he tugged until I realized I was supposed to get down on my knees. He caught my hair, tipping my head back. "No teeth and no stopping until I'm completely satisfied and you've wrung me dry." I glanced from his face to his cock, feeling my heart trying to hammer its way out of my chest. Leaning down, I took him into my mouth, sucking the rounded head and slowly slipping his cock deeper. He released a long breath, his fingers clenching in my hair. I needed no urging. By this point, my entire body was thrumming with unrequited lust and it excited me even more to taste him, to feel him in my mouth. It wasn't something I'd ever done with anyone except my ex. It wasn't something I would ever have thought about wanting to do, but I did want to and far from being repulsed about the order to suck him dry, that only made me more eager. I worked his cock feverishly, enthusiastically. Each time he groaned with pleasure, my heart pounded a little faster. Doubt shook me when I felt his cock jerk in my mouth and knew he was about to cum, but he'd apparently expected as much—either that or he was so enthralled he couldn't think beyond release. His grip in my hair tightened. He shuddered, uttered a deep, growling groan as he erupted. I gulped as his seed spewed down my throat, felt myself hovering on the verge of climax and sucked him hard until his cock ceased to jerk in my mouth. I was panting for breath when I sat back at last on my heels. I hadn't cum, though, and my body felt like it was on fire. Stuart summoned me. Feeling more than a little dizzy, I got up and moved to him. Taking his cock in my mouth, I sucked and stroked him as I had Lyle. I was so close to orgasm when he began to cum I thought for certain that I would climax, too. I didn't, but I discovered I was expected to service each one of them. By the time I'd sucked them all dry, every muscle in my body was screaming with fatigue and my cunt
was driving me crazy. For about five seconds after I'd finished with Michael, I thought sure one of the six would finish me off. It wouldn't take much. I'd been hovering on the brink of exploding almost from the moment I'd first got down on my knees. "You can go now." I stared at Lyle blankly, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I'd given everyone else there goody and I wasn't to have mine. Slowly, it filtered through my heat fogged mind. I was being . I was here for their benefit. Ordinarily, I would probably have gotten angry at that point. My ex had certainly tried to beat subservience into me, but he hadn't succeeded in doing anything more than driving me to hide my rebellion—and finally driving me away. I found I couldn't light the spark, though. I was just too tired and too wound up to think beyond my disappointment. With an effort, I got to my feet and dressed. "Do you need directions to the cabin?" "No," I said a little hoarsely. About halfway to the cabin, I recovered enough for resentment to set in. I'd been good. I'd sucked each one of them until they'd cum, sucked them until they couldn't cum anymore. It was grossly unfair that they hadn't brought me off. My body was still sparking and sizzling like a downed power line. By the time I finally reached the cabin the anger and resentment had worn off and I was just plain tired-and sore. I was going to have to get pads for my knees, I thought wryly, if this was to be a common thing, otherwise I would have calluses in no time at all. I wasn't hungry, no huge surprise considering the cum I'd swallowed. Lyle hadn't told me to cook, so I assumed they would cook for themselves or eat out. In fact, he'd said before that I was to 'expect company' at any time, which seemed to indicate that there was no telling whether any one of them would show up. I went upstairs and discovered that someone had been to the cabin after I'd left with Lyle. The ordinary bedroom had been transformed into their notion of a playroom and it was obvious that someone, or maybe all of them, were 'in' to kink, a little bit of bondage—no telling what else. I still had no idea what most of the things in the bedroom were for, but my imagination was running wild with speculation and every erogenous zone on my body was throbbing like hell. I should have been horrified. In another life I would have been, but I'd just spent an hour and a half sucking six different cocks and I was too tired and too damned horny to
be shocked or even unnerved. Stripping out of the clothes I'd worn, I managed my first really deep breath since I'd put the damned bustier on and went in to take a long, hot soak. Toiletries had been provided. I selected a scent I liked and poured a generous dollop in the tub as it filled. I was still achy when I emerged, but not from sore muscles. I was horny. I doubted I would ever be mistaken for a lady, but ordinarily I disassociated myself from such crudities and it wouldn't have occurred to me to think of horny and myself at the same time. There'd been nothing ordinary about my day, however, and I'd never been so close to culmination so many times in a row in my life without actually reaching it. Try as I might, I couldn't get my mind off of my ache for more than a handful of minutes at the time. It didn't make things one whit easier for me when I returned to the bedroom and discovered I didn't have so much as a single pair of panties or a single bra—nothing to wear but clothes pretty much like I'd worn all day and couldn't be comfortable in—or negligees that looked like they'd been made out of tissue paper. I stared at the nighties. Lyle had said that I was to be ready for company anytime. Obviously, he meant it. Sighing, feeling more than a little hopeful actually, I pulled a black 'veil' over my head and went down to the kitchen to look for food. I still wasn't very hungry. I was too wired, but I finally settled on a sandwich and went into the great room to stare at the TV for a few hours. No one showed up. As it grew later and later and it was born in upon me that nobody would, depression settled over me. I could finish myself up, or I could go to bed horny. I resisted the temptation to finish myself off by virtue of the fact that I wanted cock. Finger just wasn't going to get it, especially not my own. By the following morning when I arrived for work, the hum in my body was so distant I might not have been aware of it at all except for the way I was required to dress. My breasts felt very exposed with no bra and my nipples puckered and stayed that way from the moment I donned the bustier. They were so sensitive that almost every breath I took stimulated them with the whisper light brush of the top I was wearing. My cunt took almost constant stimulation, as well—the tickle of a breeze as I got into and out of the car, my thighs rubbing together. The office was humming when I arrived. It seemed almost as if electricity sizzled in the air. I thought I was imagining it at first, but realized fairly quickly that something had charged
everyone. Stuart looked up as I drew level with his open door and crooked a finger at me. Thinking he had something for me to do, I went in. He rose and came around his desk as I approached it. Without a word, he pushed my top up and lowered his head to suck one of my nipples. My head swam at the heat that rushed through me. Taking my hand, he cupped it over his erection and guided me until I was stroking him through his trousers. He slipped his hand between my thighs then and began to stroke my cleft, teasing my clit until electric surges were jolting through me. When he'd leisurely sucked both nipples and had me thoroughly wet, he lifted his head and smiled lazily. I had to lock my knees to stay upright when he set me aside and moved back around the desk. "Bring me a cup of coffee." Although I usually brought everyone coffee in the morning, it took my frying brain a couple of seconds to interpret the request. Finally, I managed to nod and left. Victoria gave me a frozen stare as I went past her and directly to the coffee pot. After stowing my purse, I filled two cups with shaking hands and headed back down the hallway. Stuart was on the phone when I reached his office again. As I leaned over to set his cup carefully on his desk, he slipped his hand beneath my skirt once more, stroking my cleft. I froze, hardly daring to breathe as he pushed his finger inside of me, thrusting it slowly in and out, stroking my g-spot. Finally, when I was just about ready to pass out, he withdrew his finger, patted my bare ass and made a flicking motion with his hand. I'd been dismissed. Shaking now, it took an effort of concentration for me to balance the other cup all the way to the office across the hall. "Close the door," Billy commanded as I entered his office. When I'd set his cup down, he grasped me around the waist and hoisted me onto his desk top. Pushing my thighs wide, he stroked my cunt for several moments, studying it and finally slipped his hands beneath my buttocks, lifting my hips up as he lowered his head. I jerked all over when I felt the heated stroke of his tongue on my cleft. It felt so good I felt faint. A moan of pleasure seemed to bubble in my chest, but I remembered he'd stopped the day before the moment I moaned and I restrained myself with an effort, held perfectly still, hoping he'd keep right on stroking and sucking my clit until I came. The buzzer on his desk went off when I'd almost reached the summit. Lifting his head, Billy helped me off the desk and turned his attention to the intercom.
Wobbly kneed, I managed to make it out of his office and back down the hall for more coffee. The others ignored me when I took their coffee to them. I felt like screaming. I'd been so close and now my body was cooling and leaving me with nothing but the same remorseless twinges that had plagued me most of the previous day. Thoroughly shaken, I went to the restroom to freshen up, splashing water over my face to cool it. I was tempted to try it on my pussy, but it was so hot the idea of anything cold touching it made me cringe. With an effort, I pulled myself together and went to work. Midmorning, Victoria was summoned to Lyle's office. Again I heard her whining complaints and denials, wailing. She came out a little over an hour later, white faced, collected her purse from her desk and strode out of the office, slamming the door behind her. I paused, wondering what it meant. Had she just gone to lunch? Or was she gone for good? And, if she'd been discharged, what did that mean to me? Was I off the hook? Carrying a stack of folders, Colin sauntered to the front desk and settled there. Thoroughly mystified, I went back to what I'd been doing. Around eleven, Lyle buzzed the different offices, collected food requests and ordered take out for everyone, giving the person on the phone directions and a specific time for delivery. Colin rose from the desk out front, stretched and sauntered to the front door of the office. Locking it, he turned the sign in the window that read 'out to lunch', set the hands on the little fake clock and strolled toward the back. Grasping my wrist as he passed me, he led me to the conference room. My belly was tied in knots by the time we arrived, moisture and heat already gathering in my nether regions. I was like Pavlov's dogs. All they had to do was summon me to the conference room and straight away I was wet. Everyone else was already gathered when we arrived. I saw that they'd drawn straws. I supposed they were deciding on the order. I was totally confused, though, when Lyle, Stuart and Michael each pulled out a coin and tossed it. The other three called heads or tales and they examined the results. Apparently having settled everything, they turned to look at me expectantly. Lyle flicked his finger toward my clothes. I knew it meant remove them, but I considered playing dumb—for about five seconds. The moment his dark brows began to descend with displeasure, I hastened to pull the blouse and skirt off. Colin propped his buttocks on the edge of the conference
table and fished a condom out of his pocket. Both surprise and anticipation flickered through me. Obviously, he meant to fuck me and I needed it so badly! It occurred to me when I glanced around at the others that the condom was probably as much to prevent sloppy seconds, and thirds, as it was for protection, but I wasn't the least put off by it. Surely, if I was to go several rounds, I'd get my cookie even if they didn't make any effort to help me along. Lyle summoned me with the crook of his finger. Swallowing with an effort against the pulse pounding in my throat, I moved to face him. He unzipped his trousers as he had the day before, pulling his engorged cock through the opening. "Bend," he said when I started to get on my knees.
Chapter Four I straightened again, bending at the waist. Colin's hand caressed my buttocks, then slipped along my cleft. Struggling to draw moisture into my mouth, I swallowed convulsively and opened my mouth over Lyle's cock, sucking the head as I had the day before and then slipping the throbbing member slowly inside my mouth, deeper and deeper until I could take no more. The finger stroking my cleft was replaced by the head of a cock. Pushing my legs wider, Colin positioned himself and thrust, sinking the head of his cock into my opening. Waves of pleasure washed over me and I sucked the cock in my mouth with a will. Moving slowly at first, Colin began to work his cock deeply inside of me in the thrust and retreat needed to saturate his cock with my juices so that he could slide fully into me. I hesitated at my task as he claimed me fully, ground his pelvis against my buttocks, wondering how this was going to work. He showed me, setting the rhythm. Each thrust pushed my face down into Lyle's lap so that his cock filled my mouth. With each retreat, I lifted my head, allowing it to slide out. I had to brace my hands on the chair on either side of Lyle's legs as Colin's thrusts became more and more frenzied until he was pounding into me. My body tightened, coiled toward release. I felt Lyle's cock jerk as he began to climax and sucked him more frantically, trying to reach my own. Abruptly, Colin's cock began to spasm with release, as well. My heart seemed to stop. A split second later, my body exploded in culmination. I was so weak with release, all I could do for several moments afterwards was lay my head in Lyle's lap, trying to catch my breath. Finally, I pushed myself upright. Apparently, I looked like I was about to pass out. Lyle pushed me back onto the conference table. I wavered for several moments, trying to sit upright and finally leaned back, dropping an arm over my eyes. Someone lifted my legs. I felt the heat and moisture of a tongue on my cleft and realized it had to be Billy. He seemed addicted to the taste of my pussy. Or maybe he just liked pussy? My body, so recently sated, refused to respond at once, but could not ignore the stimulus. After only a few moments, I felt a new surge building. A moan escaped me. The sucking on my clit that was driving me into a frenzy stopped. I lifted my head as Billy caught my hand, urging me to get up.
When I'd slipped off of the table, he took a seat in one of the chairs, pulled his cock from his pants and fitted a rubber over it. I stared at it blankly. I was supposed to suck through the rubber? Catching me around the waist, he buried his face in my mound once more, all too briefly, then turned me around. "Sit." I looked back at him and saw that he was holding his erection. Straddling his legs, I moved back, slowly lowering my body onto his cock. When I'd finally taken him fully inside of me, I looked up to discover Stuart standing in front of me. With deliberation, he unzipped his fly and produced his cock. Heads or tails suddenly made sense to me. I was to do them all in pairs. One got head, the other got tail. The new position put more stimuli on an entirely different area of my channel, I quickly discovered. Within moments, I felt myself building toward yet another climax. This time, I came before either Stuart or Billy. My throes of passion seemed to set them both off, though, because the moment I started sucking frantically at Stuart's cock and my pussy began to quake with culmination, both of them went off almost as explosively as I did. I was allowed to rest and recover in Billy's lap ... either that or he was simply in no great hurry to pull his cock out of me. I suspected the latter, because when I finally did move to rise, his cock was already semi-hard again. The chimes at the door announced the arrival of lunch. I was just wondering if I was to be allowed to recover for a little while before serving Michael and Charles, when Michael led me to the table, pushed me face down on it and thrust his cock into me. I was so sated, my body was sluggish to react. I'd just gotten warmed up good when he came, leaving me once more in the lurch. Shivering, I pushed myself up from the table when he'd finished. I was so weak legged, I was actually glad when I discovered I was supposed to assume the floor position and suck Charles off. I was still working on him when the door opened once more. Almost as if that alone set him off, Charles came, grasping my head tightly as his cum shot down my throat. I sat back on my heels when I'd sucked him until he couldn't cum anymore, too depleted even to consider getting up. Someone hoisted me off the floor, steadying me until I could lock my knees. The smell of food wafted past my nostrils and my stomach growled. Embarrassed, I clutched the emptiness with my hand. "You like Chinese?"
I looked at Lyle blurrily when he spoke. Chinese what? Cock? I saw then that he'd pulled up the seventh chair and set a plate in front of it. Smiling faintly in gratitude, I shook my head. "I'd rather rest if you don't mind." He frowned. "But I do. Come on. You need to eat." Slipping an arm around my waist, he guided me back to his chair, sat down and pulled me down on his lap. Unable to hold myself away from him, I collapsed against him, allowing my head to loll weakly against his shoulder before I even considered that he might not like such a familiarity. He didn't seem to mind, though. Ignoring my limply draped body, he asked them to pass my plate down the table. I opened my eyes when I felt something hard and hot pressed to my lips. Eggroll. I took a bite, chewed it slowly and finally sat up, feeling a surge of interest in the food. His arm tightened around my waist until I subsided once more. He fed me, holding the fork away when I reached for it. A glob of sweet and sour sauce landed on one of my breasts. Before I could make a move to wipe it off, he licked it off, sucking the nipple at the tip of my breast. My belly clenched. By the time we'd finished eating, I felt rejuvenated, but also just about as horny as I had been before I'd cum, and not just because Michael and Stuart had topped me off by getting my engines revved and then leaving me behind. I suspected Lyle had deliberately dribbled food down my chest. He'd certainly seemed to enjoy cleaning it up for me and I was forced to admit I'd enjoyed it, too. It was a let down when everyone finished eating, got up, and left me to clean up the mess. I was shaky the rest of the day. I also felt put upon. I'd slept poorly the night before because they'd teased me until I was desperate for relief. Today, they'd given me the relief I needed so badly, then teased me up and left me hanging again. Get a grip! I chastised myself, wondering a little uneasily what had come over me. Under the circumstances, I supposed it was understandable that I couldn't seem to get my mind off of sex. But, really! If anybody had asked me before I'd have told them I was certainly not a nympho, not even close. I figured I was average. I liked sex, but I seemed to do as well without as with. Sometimes it was good. Sometimes not so good. I might've been inclined to think I was bordering on insatiable because I'd been in limbo since I'd split with my
ex—and ten years of getting some and then ten months of getting none tended to equal desperation. I shook it off. There was no point in worrying about it. In fact, since I had six months of repenting to do, it was a damned good thing I was finding I was up to it—libido wise anyway. Otherwise, two days and I was already starting to feel as if I was doing hard time. But then—six strapping young lads! Giving myself a mental kick, I finished cleaning the conference room and went back to typing and filing. I discovered pretty quickly, though, that one good fuck only seemed to fire the guys up. Every time I bent over, someone ran a hand over my ass, or gave it a pat, or worse, stroked my clit until I was panting for more and then patted my ass and left. I was in almost as bad a state when I arrived at the cabin that evening as I had been the evening before. Again, I prepared for company, ate a solitary meal and then ended up going to bed alone. Discarding my nightie, I climbed between the sheets and rubbed my aching clit, trying to ease the discomfort. Release eluded me, however, and I finally drifted to sleep. Pleasure brought me from deep sleep some time later to something bordering consciousness. I lay perfectly still at first, reveling in the teasing nudge of a hot tongue on my clit, feeling heat rise inside of me until I began to moan, arching my hips to meet that wonderful mouth. Euphoria engulfed me in a haze of passion, lifting me beyond the last vestiges of sleep and I discovered that I wasn't dreaming at all. I was tied spread eagle on the bed and someone was finessing my clit so wonderfully I had to fight to keep from coming right away, to hold on to that wonderful pleasure just a few moments longer. I cried out when I couldn't contain it any more, feeling an explosion of glorious release as my body convulsed endlessly. He lifted his head, studying me, I knew, in the dimness of the room. After a moment, he moved up my body, sucking little love bites along my flesh that made goose bumps rise, sent sharp tingles through me. By the time he'd made his way to my breasts I was already beginning to feel the quickening. A hot mouth covered one erect tip, teasing me unmercifully, pulling a groan from me when I realized I couldn't evade it, could only endure, feeling my belly clench almost painfully each time he sucked the tender flesh, nudged it with his tongue. When I was near mindlessness, he wove a heated trail to the twin peak and tormented me until the tension was coiled so tightly inside of me I knew I was about to explode once more. "I need..." I whispered a little desperately.
He lifted his head. "What?" he asked, his voice husky with his own desire. I swallowed, recognizing Lyle's voice. "You," I said. "Inside me." "Do you?" I thought I detected a smile in his voice, but he went back to teasing my nipple and I was too needy to feel anything beyond my body's cravings. "Please?" I felt his cock surge against my cleft as he curled his hips into me. It skated past the place I need it most, setting off sirens in my head when it grazed my throbbing clit. Instead of giving me what I'd asked for, he went back to teasing my nipples. I jerked against my bonds, groaning as my body convulsed in another climax, this one so short it was almost more of a tease than release. "I think I'd like to see how many times I can make you cum," he murmured lazily, nibbling a trail downward once more. I jerked when he reached my mound again, trying to evade that teasing tongue. My body was on fire already, sizzling, jerking. Ignoring both my efforts to evade him and my moans that were equal parts pleasure and despair, he parted the fleshy lips of my cunt and suckled my clit as he had my nipples. My body had hardly touched down from the last climax and instantly began to climb again. I gasped sharply when my body began to convulse with release, my gasps slowly becoming shrill screams as he continued to suck me, making my body spasm on and on in release until I thought I'd pass out. He lifted his head finally, stroking my quivering thighs. "Three," he murmured. I shivered, tense despite the three, my belly quivering and jerking with aftershocks. He allowed me to cool until I'd managed to catch my breath, and then began again. By the time I'd hit my zenith for the fifth time, I was screaming at the intensity of the pleasure, almost sobbing. Relief flooded me when I felt him unfastening the cuffs at my ankles, but it was short lived. As soon as he'd released me, he pushed my thighs apart and began once more, torturing me with pleasure until I was moaning incessantly, my body wound so tightly it felt as if it would shatter with the next release. Abruptly, he levered himself over me and thrust his cock inside of me. My body closed around him, clutched him like a tight fist. Groaning, he held me tightly and began pumping into me hard and fast. The jerk of his cock as his climax caught him sent me over the edge yet again. I screamed, shuttered at the hard convulsions of rapture that hit me and blacked out for several moments.
When I came to, Lyle was nuzzling my breasts and neck almost apologetically. Releasing a quivering sigh, I reached for the darkness again. Lyle was gone when I woke and I wondered if I'd simply imagined the entire thing because of the crush I'd had on him.
Chapter Five Lyle was laying in wait for me when I reached the office. He looked up as I came even with his door. "When you've brought everyone their coffee, come to my office." "Yes, Mr. Justice," I responded, wondering if I'd done something else wrong. He frowned when I spoke. "Are you coming down with something?" I didn't make the mistake of thinking the question, or the frown, indicated concern. I reddened, though, wondering if he'd drawn attention to my hoarseness to embarrass me, because he had to know why I was hoarse this morning. "It's just that my throat is a little scratchy this morning," I replied a little stiffly. To my surprise, he looked uncomfortable. Finally, he merely waved me away, however, and I went to fetch the coffee. I was discomfited by the entire exchange. He hadn't seemed angry, though, or even irritated. Unfortunately, there hadn't been anything suggestive in the way he'd commanded my presence either, so I didn't get my hopes up. Feeling vaguely uneasy, I continued down the hall to the reception area. To my surprise, someone had already put the coffee on. Since Victoria had departed, that had been my job. Disconcerted to realize I wasn't going to be able to put off the discussion with Lyle, I filled cups and began my rounds. When I got to Lyle's office, he told me to shut the door. My heart skipped a beat, but I shut the door and moved around the desk to hand him his cup when he held his hand out. He caught my wrist before I could move away. Turning, he set the coffee cup on the far corner. When he turned back to me, he caught me around the waist and settled me on the edge of the desk in front of him. I didn't know whether to be relieved or more unnerved that the 'discussion' was one we'd had before. Catching my legs, he lifted them until I had, perforce, to lean back on the desk on my elbows. Without preliminary, he leaned down and tongued my clit. A bolt of desire shot through me. "I love the taste of your pussy," he murmured, pushing my thighs wider and opening his mouth over the tiny bud of my clit. My belly clenched. Warm liquid spilled into my channel. I bit my lip at the sensations that jolted through me as he licked and sucked me, knowing if he ran true to form, he would stop as soon as I neared completion. At first I fought to detach myself completely from what he was doing. There was nothing like endless days of being teased to make one reluctant to strive for the peak of
pleasure. I couldn't, though, and after a few moments I began only to try to keep him from knowing that I was getting closer and closer. I reached a point, though, when I couldn't keep it to myself, couldn't catch my breath. I sucked in a difficult breath that ended on a moan. Instead of stopping, he sucked my clit into his mouth and sucked harder. I moaned again as my sex began to quake with spasms of ecstasy. Just as I went over the top, he lifted his head and a sense of desertion filled me for all of two seconds. Before the climax eluded me, however, I felt him shoving his cock into my quaking pussy. I groaned again, my body exploding with rapture as he gripped me and plowed ruthlessly past convulsing, resisting flesh, burying his cock to the root. I was still quaking with the aftershocks when he shuddered, pumped into me frantically and groaned as he spilled his seed. He buried his face between my breasts, leaning heavily against me while he caught his breath. Finally, he lifted his head, nuzzled a path up the side of one breast and took my engorged nipple into his mouth, sucking. I resisted the urge to groan, resisted the tingling warmth that spread through me, but it did no good. Insidiously, desire began to resurface. Finally, when I was beginning to feel the inevitable coiling of tension in my belly, he ceased to tease me and straightened, carrying me with him. My knees were wobbly when my feet finally hit the floor. It took an effort to lock them. Suckling on my neglected nipple for good measure, he pulled away finally, gave my ass a pat and urged me toward the door. It became a daily routine that had no parameters, nothing to grab on to and thus there was no way to anticipate what would come beyond knowing that something would. Some days they barely acknowledged my presence aside from stroking my cleft or fondling my breasts just enough to keep me on edge. Others, first one and then another would pull me aside, or summon me to their office and fondle and fuck me until it was a struggle to keep from screaming with pleasure. At least once a week I was summoned to the conference room for a fuck-a-thon. I suppose in the back of my mind I hadn't really expected to serve the full six month sentence I'd been handed. Familiarity breeds contempt and I figured the partners would get tired of their toy pretty quickly and move on to greener pastures, particularly since this pasture wasn't all that green to start with. When I discovered a full month had passed with no sign of a let up—no sign that any of them were losing interest—I began to rethink that position and I realized that it was the
unpredictability of the situation that kept them focused. Things had changed, but it certainly wasn't a waning of interest. If anything, it seemed to me that they were becoming more insatiable as time went on, as if the more often they got their cookies, the more cookies they wanted. In general, I was so exhausted that I slept like the dead once my head hit the pillow at night, which made sneak attacks a breeze for them. Occasionally, I would rouse when they began to bind me, but more often than not I only awoke to the pleasurable assault of mouths and tongues and hands. Victoria did not return and Colin quickly grew tired of handling the front desk. After some discussion between the partners, it was decided to train me for the position since, although theirs was certainly a lucrative practice, it wasn't busy in the sense that they were bursting at the seams with appointments. Most of the appointments they did schedule were for Mondays and Tuesdays, so that they could focus the remainder of their time on court and the endless research and paperwork that went in to each case. Colin began the instruction. His gaze kept straying to my breasts, however, and he began to show more interest in fondling them than what he was trying to teach me. My own concentration began to suffer when he tired of tweaking my nipples and pulled my blouse up to suck them. After a few moments of that, my brain fogged with the heat rising off my body. He returned his attention to the instructing. It stayed there for all of five minutes before he began stroking my cleft and soon even that wasn't enough. Pulling me down on his lap, he worked his cock up into me. I found it disturbing to play in the reception area, but Lyle had been clear that I was to do as I was told and I didn't argue. Colin had barely gotten started good, however, when the door to Lyle's office opened. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me on Colin's lap, frowning. His gaze collided with mine for a couple of seconds before he glanced toward the door. It wasn't locked. I tried to make my expression as carefully neutral as possible, but from the enigmatic look Lyle gave me I wasn't at all sure I'd been successful in hiding either my embarrassment or the sense of guilt that swept over me when he'd looked so outraged. Fixing Colin with a hard look, he jerked his head toward the back offices. "Not in the reception," he said tightly. Colin glared at him. For several unnerving moments, I thought he would argue with his older brother, but finally the tension left him and he relaxed his grip on me. I got up shakily and adjusted my clothing. When Lyle had disappeared
into his office once more, slamming the door, Colin rose from the chair, grabbed my hand and strode down the hall to his office, tugging me behind him. Bending me over his desktop, he resumed where he'd left off, thrusting quick and hard so that he climaxed within minutes. There was a bit of temper in it, but since it wasn't directed at me, I found the roughness and aggressiveness of his possession wildly exciting ... except for the part where he finished without me. I was really looking forward to the weekend. For some strange reason—I suppose because none of them had ever been to see me on those days before—I had the idea that the weekends were mine. That delusion was dispelled before dusk on that Friday evening.
Chapter Six When Billy, Colin, and Michael arrived, bursting with energy and unloading everything from beer to mixers to chips, I thought they were throwing a party. It was born in on me fairly quickly that they were, just not the sort of party I'd imagined. For starters, I was the entertainment. In point of fact, I seemed to be the whole party. The serious, fairly conservative young men I'd grown accustomed to had vanished in the blink of an eye and I found myself facing frat boys—wild ones. Colin, the first through the door, let out a rebel hoot, grabbed me around the waist and swung me around in a circle. My head was still spinning when he stopped. By the time I'd regained my equilibrium, I'd landed on the couch, flat of my back and Colin was sprawled on top of me, his face burrowed between my breasts. "Mmm mmm, you smell good enough to eat!" he murmured with a wide grin when he lifted his head. I smiled back, tentatively, uncertain of whether I was more charmed by the frisky puppy or alarmed. "You're scaring her, Col," Billy growled irritably, having come in with another bag of groceries and stopped to observe. Colin looked down at me with a mixture of disbelief and doubt. "Am I?" "Uh..." I hedged. He studied me seriously for several long moments before a slow smile dawned. "Darlin' I might pleasure you till you scream, but you can be sure it won't be anything else." He rolled off of me then, pulled me to my feet and gave me a pat on the ass to urge me in the direction of the kitchen. "Why don't you start putting things up? We brought enough for the weekend." It looked like enough for a month, but I didn't argue. I went into the kitchen to help Billy, who'd already started packing the refrigerator with beer. He closed the refrigerator and leaned back against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. "He's right, you know." I lifted my brows questioningly. "You do smell good enough to eat—look good enough, too." I felt a blush rising to my cheeks. "Thank you." He grinned, examining me from head to foot. "It's just as well you don't wear anything like that at the office. We never would get any work done." I looked down at my nightie. It fell to my ankles. It felt
substantial enough when I was alone, but it was thin enough you could read a newspaper through it. I chuckled. "It's not exactly office apparel." Of course the clothes I did wear weren't my notion of office apparel. He tilted his head, studying me keenly. "Come here." Setting the bag of chips in the cabinet, I closed the door and went to him. To my surprise, instead of cupping a hand over my mound, or pinching my nipples, he slipped his arms around me and dragged me up against him, nuzzling his face against my neck. "Mmm. Just as I thought." Warmth was spreading through me. "What?" "You feel good enough to eat, too," he murmured, sucking a love bite on my neck. "Don't take this the wrong way—but I'm looking forward to fucking you in a bed." I chuckled, pulling far enough away to look at him. "Wrong way?" He sighed. "Boringly unoriginal, but sometime a man just wants his comfort—and a whole lot of time." Colin and Michael entered the kitchen in time to catch the last comment, Michael baring still more bags, and Colin, I supposed, to see what was taking me so long in the kitchen. Colin and Michael exchanged a look. "All to yourself?" they demanded almost in unison. "I thought we were going to party?" Billy studied them for several moments. "All right, how about this—it's Friday. There's three of us. We draw straws— one night each. We can try out the toys as easily in the evening and we wouldn't be doing an all nighter anyway." Colin was obviously reluctant, but finally agreed they could draw straws. He went off in search of straws. My stomach had gone weightless at the mention of the toys. It appeared that having a female completely at their beck and call had spurred them to try everything they had always wanted to try but hadn't been able to convince a girlfriend to do. For my part, I felt just a little uneasy, but me liking what they did or who did it hadn't been a part of the agreement. In any case, I was curious. So far, except for being overworked at times, I couldn't complain and it was intriguing to think I could try things I might not be comfortable instigating myself. This way, it wasn't my idea or my responsibility—and, if I didn't like it—well, it still beat the hell out of jail. I didn't consider myself homophobic, but I was a died in the wool hetero and I didn't care for the notion of becoming some lesbian's reluctant girlfriend. Colin drew the first night. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Not that I had anything against Colin, but he was a little on the tipsy side already. Billy drew Saturday and Michael
came in last. Billy winked at me when I glanced at him. I wasn't certain what it signified, but I began to suspect when Billy suggested they start the night off with a game of poker and began to ply Colin with beer. I had my doubts that he could drink Colin under the table but it wasn't my place to referee. I had a couple of mixed drinks myself—no more than enough to mellow me out a little—and primarily because I'd found I hated being sober when everyone else was inebriated. "I'm in the mood for a sandwich," Colin announced, throwing his cards on the table after he'd lost his third hand in a row. "I'll make them," I said at once, surging up from the couch. Colin snickered. "You're the meat, baby. Who wants to be the other half?" I felt my jaw go slack with surprise. Slowly, it dawned on me what he'd meant and a mixture of embarrassment and warmth that had nothing to do with embarrassment, suffused me. Billy glanced at Michael. "Not me, man. Col's too drunk to care what hole he poke's his pecker in. You three have fun. I'm going to catch the news and call it a night." "You up for this, Marlee?" I looked at Billy in surprise. It was the first time any of them had actually asked, but it pleased me that he was thoughtful enough to consider my feelings on the matter. "'Course she is, aren't you, Marlee?" I nodded. We had to help Colin up the stairs. He was swaying so badly I feared he would only make it far enough up to roll back down and injure himself. By the time we'd reached the bedroom, I had a bad case of the giggles. Colin had paused every second or third stair to reassure me that he was in top form and perfectly capable of performing, proving his point by favoring me with a number of sloppy kisses. When we'd helped him to sit on the edge of the bed, he fell backward and lay unmoving. I stared down at him in consternation. "You sure you're up to this?" Billy asked quietly, having moved to stand directly beside me. I nodded. "What's wrong with him?" I whispered. I'd never seen him like this, or even sporting the aftereffects of a drinking binge. "His girlfriend dumped him. I tried to talk him out of this, but nothing would do him but to come." "Poor baby," I murmured sympathetically. "I'm not sure there's anything to handle. He looks all done in."
"Not," Colin objected, coming around and struggling upright. He fought with his shirt for several moments and finally found the opening. Ripping off half the buttons, he dragged the shirt off over his head. He landed on his face on the floor when he bent over to take his shoes off. Biting my lip to keep from snickering, I surged forward to help him. Between the two of us, Billy and I managed to get him undressed and into the bed. This time when he flopped backwards, he took me with him, grunting as I landed on top of him. "Wha' happened to my face," he muttered against my breasts. "Hurts like hell. 'jou hit me, Billy?" I tried to roll off of him, but his grip was surprising. "You fell on your face, Col," Billy said irritably. "Oh." "You want me to get something for it?" I volunteered. "A little pussy wouldn't hurt." "I doubt that would help the swelling," Billy said dryly from somewhere in the region of the foot of the bed. "It'd help this swelling," Colin insisted, grabbing my hand and placing it over his cock, which was indeed swollen and evidently ready for action. "We gonna do the sandwich, or what?" I glanced at Billy questioningly as he settled on the edge of the bed. "Sure, Col," he said soothingly. "Why don't you turn around so we can all fit on the bed?" I heard his shoes drop to the floor and then the rustle of cloth and realized that he was undressing. Colin pulled away from me slightly and looked around in confusion. "I thought I was on the bed." "Sideways." "Oh." Releasing me, he sat up again. Peeling my nightgown off, I tossed it aside and moved to the center of the bed. Billy, I realized when he slid up behind me, was bare chested and barefoot but still wearing his trousers. I glanced back at him questioningly as Colin finally managed to get himself oriented on the bed and began to grope my breasts. Billy leaned toward me—to whisper something to me, I thought. Instead, he merely covered my ear with his mouth. The heat and moisture of his mouth sent a rush of delight through me, lifting the fine hairs all along that side of my body and making my nipples tighten almost painfully. His hand skated down my back and cupped my buttock, massaging it briefly before he slipped his fingers along my cleft and began to stroke me. Despite the awkwardness of Colin's drunken caresses, my body quickened. I wasn't certain if it was Billy's doing, or both of them, but it didn't matter. When Colin lifted my thigh and began a brief search for the right hole, I was already wet and
ready. It was a good thing for me, because Colin was no lightweight and the struggle that ensued as he wedged the head of his cock into my vagina at last and fought his way past my resisting muscles might have been uncomfortable otherwise. As it was, his awkward gait was more of a tease than anything else. Feeling strangely motherly, I caressed him anyway, trying to move with him until he found the rhythm he needed to find completion and suppressed the disappointment I felt when he at last uttered a deep groan and spilled his seed. He fell asleep almost before his body had stopped convulsing, snoring loudly. Billy sat up. Leaning down, he kissed me on one shoulder. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment and finally got up, collecting his shirt and shoes. He hesitated again as he reached the side of the bed. "Good night," he said finally and departed. I stared at the door after he'd gone, feeling strangely warmed by his silent vigil and at the same time abandoned, but it occurred to me after a little while that he'd only come to make certain I would be ok. Rolling onto my side, I propped my head in my hand and studied Colin for some time. I knew he was nearly thirty, but he looked so young sleeping, hardly more than a baby. It was sweet and sad at the same time that he'd felt the need for comfort after his breakup. I seriously doubted his ex would appreciate me consoling me, but that wasn't my problem. Leaning down, I brushed at the dark hair that had fallen across his forehead, kissed him lightly and snuggled down next to him. He was still sleeping like the dead when I got up the following morning and went in to take a shower. He wasn't snoring when I came out, but then he'd rolled onto his belly. I debated briefly on what to wear—the office attire? Or another nightgown? There weren't any other choices since I'd been denied my own wardrobe. Deciding on comfort, I slipped a nightgown on and went downstairs to make coffee. By the time I'd finished drinking my coffee and come fully awake, I'd realized the house was just too quiet. Colin had overindulged the night before, but neither Michael nor Billy had and I was curious that neither of them had risen yet. Shrugging it off, I dug out the book I'd been reading and settled down to entertain myself. I heard the shower going upstairs sometime later and Colin emerged shortly after the sound of water stopped. Reaching the great room, he trudged to the couch and sprawled out beside me. I set my book aside, tucking it beneath the cushion. "Would you like breakfast?"
A look of revulsion crossed his features. "I don't think so. I feel like shit!" "Headache?" "I guess you could call it that," he groaned, dropping his head back on the couch and closing his eyes. "I'll get you something for that," I volunteered, getting to my feet. "You don't have to do that," he said halfheartedly. I smiled at him. "I know, but I will." When he'd downed the painkiller and chased it with a glass of water, I offered to massage his head. He lay back with his head in my lap and I rubbed until my fingers were aching. Just when I thought I was going to have to beg off, he began to snore. Chuckling, I dug my book out and started to read again. I discovered pretty quickly that I couldn't get my mind on my book, though, the way he was sawing logs. Suppressing the urge to giggle, I urged him to turn over, stroking his temple until he drifted off again. He was cute, I reflected, staring down at him, not quite as attractive, to me at least, as his older brother, but cute in a whole different way. There was a hint of the exotic to his features. His hair, like his brother's, was the next thing to coal black, and board straight. There was probably an American Indian somewhere in the wood pile—which wasn't terribly unusual in the deep south. Apparently there'd been a lot of randy settlers when the area was founded—and slow running natives, either that or a handful had been very, very busy, because a lot of people claimed at least a drop or two of native blood. A lock of his hair had fallen across his brow. I brushed it back only to watch it fall again. Idly, I began to play with it. His hair was surprisingly silky and pleasant to the touch. If he hadn't been half dead, poor baby, from expressing his grief over his break up the night before, I seriously doubted if he would've allowed me to play with it. I'd just gotten 'in' to my play when the sensation washed over me that I was being watched. I jumped guiltily when I looked up and discovered that Lyle was standing near the kitchen door, watching me, his expression unreadable. Either he'd come in the back way, or he'd come in the night before after I'd gone to bed. I hadn't heard him come in and I couldn't believe I'd been so deeply engrossed that I wouldn't have noticed if he'd come in the front door. I found it rather unnerving that I hadn't noticed anyway. Without a word, he sauntered across the great room toward me. Whatever he might have said, I was never to know. Before he'd reached the couch, Billy and Michael crashed through the front door as if they'd been pitched in, disheveled and reeking of fish.
That explained why the house had been so quiet. Their 'triumphant fisherman returns'grins fell when they spied Lyle. The noise they made roused Colin and he sat up abruptly, looking around the room in confusion. "Wha' the hell? You here, Lyle?" Lyle's brows rose. "It is my house." Colin frowned. "I didn't mean it like that. Didn't know you'd planned to come down this weekend—I don't think. Did I?" "I didn't think I needed to mention it," Lyle said dryly. Billy and Michael departed for the kitchen to clean their 'kill'. I could hear the scrape of drawers being jerked out and the clatter of kitchen utensils. Colin abruptly collapsed on the couch once more and glanced at me. "My head feels better." I managed a smile that was only slightly forced. "Good. I guess I'll go see if Billy and Michael need help," I added, deciding Lyle must want to talk to Colin. Lyle eyed me with disfavor when I got up. "Still wearing your nightgown?" I blushed with a combination of irritation and discomfort. "You said 'be ready to entertain'. Besides, it's more comfortable than the bustier and skirts." My embarrassment waned and my indignation swelled as I stalked from the room. The resentment lasted through the first fish I butchered. I had blood, guts and fish scales all over me by the time Billy removed the meat cleaver from my hand. His eyes were gleaming with a mixture of wry amusement and sympathy when I glanced up at him. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." "Ugh! What a mess!" I was in favor of taking a bath immediately, but there seemed little point in it until the kitchen had been cleaned. The three of us made short work of it, however, and headed upstairs. I ignored the Justice brothers as we trudged through the great room and up the stairs.
Chapter Seven I'd already reached for the door knob to my room when Billy slipped an arm around my waist. "I'll wash your back," he murmured huskily. "Mind if I join you two?" Billy looked at Michael frowningly and finally shrugged and glanced at me. "Are we going to make a sandwich?" I asked, intrigued. Billy chuckled. "I'm not sure it's something to be tried in a shower." Michael gave me a heated look. "We can warm up in the shower, though." "Why don't you just join us in her room in ... say fifteen?" Shrugging, looking vaguely miffed, Michael left for his own room. Billy, I discovered with little surprise, was not only very good at scrubbing backs, but fronts, too. Anticipation filled me as we explored one another with soapy hands. I was as aroused by the feel of his slick, wet skin beneath my palms, and the tensile strength of his hard muscles as I was by the feel of his large hands on my body. We tumbled into the bed still damp from the shower, both of us still reeking of the scent of roses. I don't know if I actually sensed a subtle change between us, or if the intimacy of bathing each other led me to an erroneous assumption, or if I was merely so hot my brain had ceased to function even at half capacity, but I was far more than a plaything, or even a willing participant. Instead of merely allowing him to do as he wished as I had done from the beginning, I caressed him as I would have a chosen lover, with affection as well as desire. Clad in nothing but a towel, Michael entered the room. Through desirous eyes, I watched him as he stroked himself until his cock was standing at attention. As he moved to the bed, Billy rolled, pulling me on top of him. I wasn't certain how this was supposed to work, but I knew both of them would have to enter me to make a sandwich and I was both nervous and excited by the prospect, never having done anything like it before. At Billy's urging, I aligned his cock with my body and impaled myself slowly on his rigid flesh until I felt my nether lips grinding against his pubic bone. Michael moved up behind me, positioning himself and pushing me down until I was lying almost flat on top of Billy. I felt the coldness of a lubricated condom as he traced the cleft of my ass with the head of his cock and then pressure as he nudged it into my rectum. Concentrating on relaxing the
muscles, I panted as he slowly worked his way inside me, hoping that I would be one of the lucky women who had a gspot inside me. As he sank fully inside me, I discovered very quickly that I did. Currents of pleasure replaced the momentary discomfort. Excitement welled inside me to feel two hard cocks embedded deeply within my body and my body clenched in response. Both men groaned in ecstasy. Michael began to move first, setting the rhythm. I shifted to more comfortably accept them both and began to move in concert with him, countering each thrust. My excitement grew by leaps and bounds. For perhaps the first time in my life, I found myself trying to stave off my climax to prolong the exquisite sensations building inside me. Within moments I was hovering at the edge, however, fighting the urge to yield. I sensed the same battle in both Michael and Billy. Abruptly, Michael stopped, gasped hoarsely several times and then began to move faster, to thrust harder as he lost control and his cock began to convulse and spill his seed. His surrender pushed me over the edge. Culmination hit me hard, dragging sharp cries from me. Billy grasped my hips, pounding into me quickly as Michael began to jerk and thrust wildly in the final throes of his passion. With a growl of triumphant, he, too, began to come, grinding deeply. Weak and breathless in the aftermath, we collapsed in a heap. With an effort, Michael gathered himself and pulled away, discarding his condom and sprawling weakly beside us. I was too spent even to move, melting over Billy like hot wax. He didn't seem to mind. Instead, he stroked my back soothingly until I drifted away on a haze of repletion. I was alone when I awoke late in the afternoon. Stretching, I rolled out of the bed and went to take a shower. The smell of frying fish led me downstairs as soon as I'd dried and dressed. I discovered the whole gang—with the exception of Lyle—in the kitchen, cooking and sampling as they went. The kitchen looked like a disaster area. I suspected clean up was going to be my job, but then they'd caught, cleaned, and cooked the meal. Accepting the inevitability of it, I assured myself it was only fair. I wondered if Lyle just hadn't joined the cooking crew or if he'd gone back to town. When we settled in the dining room to eat, I discovered he had indeed left and felt a faint uneasiness drift through me, though I wasn't certain why I felt uneasy beyond the fact that he'd appeared unannounced, looked disapproving and left again. Maybe I'd been right to begin with though? Maybe he'd only come to speak with his brother for some reason and, having concluded his business, left again because he'd intended to all along?
Billy and Colin cleared out early the following afternoon. Michael, was supposed to spend the night with me. Instead, he dragged me upstairs as soon as Billy and Colin had disappeared down the drive and fucked me upside and sideways until we were both exhausted. Toward dusk, he remembered some papers he needed for the office the following morning and decamped. I watched his taillights disappear down the drive with a sense of relief. We'd partied late the evening before, and I was looking forward to quietly collapsing for the rest of the evening and night. When he'd gone, I wandered to the calendar in the kitchen and crossed out the weekend, then flipped back through the pages. I was a little surprised to discover that I'd passed the halfway point in serving my time a week earlier. It didn't seem possible, and I wasn't certain how I felt about it except that I wasn't by any means jubilant. That might have been because I was still in limbo as to whether or not time served and good behavior was going to get me off, but I knew that wasn't entirely the reason. I was going to miss my harem when I didn't have it anymore, I realized with surprise. I'd been too scared at first to really give my position any thought. In the beginning, I'd been both excited and penitent, mostly just doing what I had to without allowing myself to think beyond what was expected of me. I discovered with some dismay, however, that it wasn't just the excitement I was going to miss when it was over. I'd developed an affection for them—a good deal of affection for several of them. What was going to happen when they were done with me? Would I still have a job? Would they still want me? At all? Ever? Or would I be dismissed and never get to see, or be with, any of them anymore? The thoughts disturbed me. It was a real challenge keeping up with the sexual appetites of six men, but how was I going to deal with one after having had six very attractive, very attentive men? And how could I deal with the possibility of none? The idea depressed me so much I found myself almost hoping they weren't going to be satisfied with me serving only a six month sentence and I began to wonder if there was any way I could prolong things short of claiming guilt which wasn't actually mine. That, I wasn't willing to do, mostly, I realized because of the affection I'd developed for them. I didn't want them to go on believing that I'd betrayed them.
Chapter Eight Lyle was not in the office when I arrived at my scheduled time Monday morning which was so unusual it thoroughly unnerved me, particularly when I reached the front desk and discovered he'd left me a note to call and reschedule his appointments for Wednesday. On a personal level, he certainly wasn't in the habit of confiding in me, but I had been put in charge of handling appointments and fielding calls and I was generally kept informed about their movements for that reason alone. Paranoia crept in as the day wore on and he didn't show or even call in to check his messages. I did my best to dismiss my misgivings but I wasn't entirely successful and when I arrived at the cabin that evening and saw Lyle's car in the drive I was far more unnerved than excited. As hard as I tried to convince myself that I wasn't in any trouble, I knew the moment I saw him that I was. The problem was I couldn't figure out what it might be and it worried me more that I couldn't instead of reassuring me and easing my tension as I suppose it should have. Laying a guilt trip on me was a breeze, though. All anyone had to do was look at me the least bit accusingly and I was immediately certain I must have done something. I must have stared at him for a full minute before it occurred to me what I was doing. I'm not certain I would have then except that Lyle, having surveyed me from head to foot apparently became aware of my expression and his dark brows descended in a frown of irritation. "Hi!" I said belatedly, shifting awkwardly while I tried to remember what, if anything, I'd planned to do once I got to the cabin. Even the greeting came out awkwardly, I realized almost at once, because I'd left it hanging on a questioning note as if to say 'what the hell are you doing here?' He seemed to interpret it that way. I suppose it was because I was wondering what the hell he was doing there. I managed a smile. "Have you eaten?" His brows rose questioningly and to save my life I couldn't help but blush. I pretended I hadn't. "Because I was going to fix something and I could just as easily fix for two if you're hungry," I added. "Sure—if you don't mind." "No problem. I'm just going to take a quick shower first." I headed toward the stairs at a brisk pace. I was anxious for a shower all right. I was up to three to six showers a day by now and figured I must have scrubbed a good three years worth of skin off in the process. At the rate I was going, I
figured I'd be looking like a twenty something in no time at all. Mostly I was just anxious to put off the confrontation I knew was coming, though. I could've been wrong. It was possible he'd just come for sex, but it he had he sure wasn't in any hurry for it. He was waiting in my bedroom when I came out of the bath. I jumped, startled to see him there. He either didn't notice, or he pretended he hadn't. "Come here." My hair was still ratted from shampooing it. I didn't want to think about how I looked, but I only hesitated briefly. It was clear from the look on his face that he wasn't going to be thrilled by my wish to do my hair first and when all was said and done, it was probably just as well—except for the part that I was concerned about my appearance. I could comb it out afterwards just as well—better, because I'd probably have to detangle again anyway. He was holding one of the bustiers. When I stopped in front of him, he caught my shoulders and turned me around, slipping it around my waist, then cinching it snugly in the back. I was feeling breathless and lightheaded by the time he'd finished, partly from nerves, partly from the tight bustier, and partly because I couldn't get close to Lyle without my heart running away with me. When he'd finished, he led me to this strange, bench-like thing that had manacles attached to it. I'd been wondering what it was and how it was used ever since it had been brought in a few weeks earlier, but I hadn't wanted to ask. It looked more like some sort of medieval torture devise than something for sex, kinky or otherwise. When he'd strapped me into it and secured my wrists, ankles and my thighs just above the knees, I realized it was close enough it added an element of unease to my heart palpitations. I gasped when he tilted it back slightly. He moved behind me then, out of my line of sight and I heard him adjusting something. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what he was doing, but curiosity got the best of me and I twisted my head to look. A cross piece had appeared from beneath the bench. He secured my manacled wrists to the ends on either side of me, then moved around behind me once more. I jumped when a cloth came down over my eyes, but I discovered I couldn't evade it. When he'd tied it over my eyes, I heard him move around the bench again, felt his hand as he grasped one leg and bent my knee lifted it up and to one side, heard the tinkle of the chains. When he released my leg, I discovered I couldn't lower it. He'd secured it, I decided, to the same cross piece my wrists were secured to the manacle around my
ankle, as well, because I couldn't move my leg in any direction. A moment passed, and then he caught my other leg and secured it in the same way. I felt cool air caress my cleft as my nether lips parted at the pressure and my heart commenced to pounding in double time, clamoring so loudly in my ears a moment passed before I realized he'd leaned close. I could feel the heat of his breath on my ear. "I learned a curious thing the other day. Can you guess what it was?" I felt perfectly blank. My mind had been tumultous with possibilities the moment he began binding me, but questions wasn't something I was even vaguely prepared for. I licked my dry lips, trying to figure out what he might be talking about. One thing seemed abundantly clear. I'd been right about the fact that he wasn't pleased about something. I was on the verge of asking for a hint when he continued. "I decided to do a little more thorough background check on you than we originally had." Uh oh. I felt his hand skate down my belly. He dragged an index finger along my cleft and then pushed it gently inside of me and tsked. "Dry. No excitement for me?" My mouth was dry, too, now that he mentioned it. The finger was withdrawn. I heard movement, but I couldn't tell what he was doing. "I couldn't find any reference to a Marlee Beauchamp beyond a year ago. It's almost as if, instead of having been born here, like you told us, you just suddenly appeared here a year ago." I gasped and jerked when something hot and moist was pressed to my clit. It took my brain a good five seconds to interpret 'mouth', but in the next moment he began to suck on the tiny, sensitive bud and heat fogged my mind as a jolt of electric pleasure zigzagged along every nerve in my body. My belly clenched. Despite my anxiety, fire poured through me as he continued to tease my clit with his tongue and suckle it. I tried a little desperately to divorce myself from it, tried to focus on thinking up a reasonable explanation for what he'd found, but I couldn't seem to think at all beyond the heat of his mouth. Desire flooded me like strong drink. By the time he pulled away I was drunk from the pleasure, my mind reeling. "Tell me why that is." I'd forgotten the question. "I don't know," I stammered, hoping he would pleasure my clit just a few more moments. Instead, I heard movement again. Cool air wafted across my damp pussy. A shiver went through me as I cooled rapidly without his touch. I felt the heat of his breath against my ear
before he spoke and it sent a wave of sensation through me. "There's no record of a Marlee Beauchamp having been born in this city, this county, or even this state within five years of the date you gave us in either direction." I licked my dry lips. "I didn't say I was born here, did I?" "You did." I felt the edge of his teeth scrape lightly along one nipple. Blood instantly engorged it, making it harden and stand erect, as if offering itself to him. He closed his mouth over it, sucking, flicking his tongue teasingly back and forth across the sensitive flesh and sending currents of hot delight through me. My belly clenched again with anticipation. Moisture gathered in my sex. I yielded completely to the lure of pleasure as he stimulated the sensitive flesh. My body, having so recently soared to great heights while he lavished his attention on my clit, leapt almost instantly up the spiral toward rapture. A moan escaped me. Just when I'd reached a point where I felt as if I was nearing the precipice, he released my throbbing nipple and lifted his head. He moved around behind me. Reaching around, he cupped a breast in each hand, massaging it as he leaned next to my ear once more. "No baby girl named Marlee Beauchamp in the entire state—nor in any state bordering this one." Sluggishly, my frying brain sorted through what he was saying. He'd done more checking on me. He knew I was using a false identity. That fact alone was enough to make me look guilty as hell of what he'd accused me of. No wonder he'd been looking at me so piercingly. Cold, clear reason washed over me, but my mind was still scrambling for a way out. Before I could decide what to say, he moved around me again. This time when he covered my pussy with his mouth, he stroked me with his tongue and sucked on me until I was teetering on the brink of completion. A jolt that was almost painful went through me when he stopped abruptly, leaving me hanging. It was like almost sneezing—only more of a let down. Much more. I was still trying to catch my breath and fight off the blackness that was swarming around me when he whispered in my ear once more. "In fact, I was very disturbed to discover that the only Marlee Beauchamp I could find any reference to—who coincidentally shares your birth date—died ten years ago and several states away from here." Dismay filled me. He thought I was a fugitive from the law. God alone knew what he thought I was guilty of—for all I knew, I was a fugitive from the law. My ex had tried to frame
me before by planting drugs in my apartment. Who was to say he hadn't gone there after I left and done so then called in an anonymous tip as he had before? The possibility chilled me. Why hadn't it occurred to me before that he could cause me trouble even if I wasn't there? I could try to explain, of course, but he wasn't going to believe me now no matter what I said I realized with a deep sense of dread and regret. "She was my best friend," I said a little breathlessly. "We grew up together." He was silent for so long I'd begun to think he wouldn't even respond. I felt one long, thick finger trace my cleft and push slowly inside of me. "Why should I believe you?" I gasped as currents of pleasure shot through me. "I didn't do it to deceive you. That wasn't my intention anyway. I was just trying to get away." "From the law?" I bit my lip, wondering if I actually was a fugitive. If I was and I said I wasn't, he sure as hell wasn't going to believe me if he found out otherwise. "From my ex husband," I said finally. "He was—obsessed with getting even with me. I kept moving and he kept finding me. Finally, I was really desperate and I thought the only way to escape was to be somebody else. That's the only reason I did it. I swear." The finger that had been driving me up the wall was withdrawn. Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing, I wondered? "How much did they pay you?" "Who?" "Don't make me ask again." It clicked then that he was talking about the hacking incident. "They didn't pay me anything. I told you I didn't know about that." I could sense him leaning close. His mouth closed over one nipple. He teased it until I was hot and mindless with pleasure and asked me again. It took me several moments to gather my wits, but I answered as I had before. Apparently, he wasn't satisfied that I was telling the truth now. I gave him everything, told him my real name was Carly Bethea, told him every sordid detail of my marriage and divorce and everything that had happened afterward, and still he continued the delicious torture. He was driving me crazy, keeping my body on low simmer, teasing me until I was so close to coming I was straining to reach it and then withdrawing, allowing me to cool as he plied me on and on with questions. I reached a point where I began to have tiny little convulsions of release that teased me more than they relieved me and I still wanted his touch, in fact began to crave it desperately. Excitement and expectation filled me each time he started again. I felt
fevered, so out of my head with desire it felt like my brain had suffered melt down. I felt like bursting into tears when he began to unbind me—not from relief, but from the lack of it—I was certain he didn't mean to give it to me. I'd long since passed the point of worrying about rejection and begun begging him to finish me off. My body was on fire. Every muscle in my body screamed with complaint when he'd removed the bindings, quivering, refusing to hold me up. Scooping me into his arms, he carried me to the bed, carefully laying me in the center. The cool sheets felt like ice on my heated skin. I began shivering and curled into a tight ball to hold my warmth to me. The bed shifted as he climbed onto the mattress and pulled the blindfold from my eyes. Carefully uncurling me, he pushed my legs wide and settled between them. His hard cock nestled against my cleft. It sent quakes through me that I tried to ignore. He nuzzled my breasts almost apologetically. "You've told me the truth?" I dragged in a shuddering breath. "Yes." He nuzzled my neck, sucked on my earlobe. "I think I'm obsessed with you, too," he murmured, nipping a trail of kisses along my cheek. I opened my eyes in surprise and looked directly at him for the first time as he lifted his head to look down at me. "You are?" I asked doubtfully. "God—yes," he said huskily, his mouth covering mine in a heated kiss that drove the chill from me almost instantly, set my body clamoring furiously for release. His tongue tangled with mine, stroked it, evoking delicious sensations in my belly. My sex contracted as if he were stroking me there, heightening my desperation to feel his cock inside of me. Murmuring a complaint into his mouth, I began struggling to reach his cock. He lifted his hips slightly away from me, allowed me to grip his turgid erection and guide his cock into the mouth of my channel. I arched upward, wedging the head firmly into my nether mouth. He slipped a hand downward, grasping my thigh and lifting as he bore down, sinking past the clinging flesh that formed the throat of my sex. Breaking the kiss, he dragged in a shaky breath, withdrew slightly and thrust again. His breath was harsh and raspy, communicating his own desperate need and adding to mine. His muscles quivered with the effort to go slowly. Moisture broke from his pores. I didn't want him to go slowly. I was frantic for release, digging my nails into him to urge him to move faster. I heard him grind his teeth as he claimed me fully at last, felt a shudder travel through him.
"Lyle," I murmured in distress, digging my fingers into his buttocks and arching against him. He buried his face against my neck then. Slipping his hands beneath my hips, he set a rhythm as desperate as my plea, thrusting and withdrawing hard and fast. I spread my thighs wider, until I could feel him burying himself to the hilt in me, his pelvis grinding against my own. The ache grew inside me to something akin to fire along every nerve ending. I cried out when it burst explosively, feeling as if I was shattering. Darkness swarmed around me in a red hot cloud that seemed to singe me. Absolute weakness followed in its wake as both tension and energy left me. When Lyle followed me into ecstasy only moments later, I was only vaguely aware of it. Floating on a sea of absolute bliss, I stroked his back soothingly while he struggled to catch his breath. Finally, he dragged in a deep, shuddering breath and lifted his head enough to nibble a trail of kisses along my neck, over my jaw and to my lips. He tugged at them almost playfully, sucking first the lower lip and then the upper before he covered my mouth. Dragging his hands from beneath my hips, he speared his fingers through my hair, stroking his tongue lazily along mine as he slowly moved his hips against me. In a matter of moments, his cock hardened inside of me and the tempo of his lazy thrusts became more pointed, touching off tremors of renewed desire inside me. I groaned, reluctant to scale the heights again so soon, but in a matter of moments I'd completely forgotten that disinclination. Warmth gathered, became heat. He rolled over, carrying me with him so that I was straddling him. Bracing my palms against his chest, I set my own rhythm, moved until I could feel his cock stroking my g-spot. Pleasure washed over me, through me. He grasped my waist, urging me to move faster, coming up off the bed to suck one nipple into his mouth. It sent a rush through me. I leaned down closer to give him better access. The stroke of his cock along my passage, the tease of his mouth on my nipples sent me spiraling out of control, over the edge again. When my body began to convulse, breaking my concentration and my rhythm, he rolled again, pumping into me quickly until his culmination broke over him, as well. Dragging in a shuddering breath when his body finally stopped convulsing in release, he slipped an arm around me and pulled me with him as he sprawled on the mattress to one side of me. I lay where I landed, draped lifelessly across him, barely conscious and desirous of nothing beyond sinking into the darkness that beckoned. I smiled faintly when he began stoking his hands over me. It wasn't until my heated brain began to cool and function
once more that it occurred to me that Lyle had kissed me and that it was the first time since I'd become the office love slave that he had done so. I couldn't help but wonder what, if anything, it signified.
Chapter Nine Cooking supper was almost as irritating as it was amusing, and arousing. Lyle helped me in the kitchen. He'd insisted that I didn't need to wear anything more than I was wearing already—the bustier—and spent half his time chopping and tossing salad, and half stroking any bare part of me that drew his attention. Midway through, he caught me around the waist, lifted me onto the counter and licked my cunt until I was screaming with release. Looking very pleased with himself, he dragged me off the counter again, steadied me and abandoned me to rescue the food before it burned. Clean up went much the same way. I was reaching to put the last dish away when he caught me up, flung me over his shoulder, and marched back upstairs with me. We passed a deeply satisfying night, which made it all the more incomprehensible to me when I awoke alone in the bed and discovered he'd already left the house. Confused and more than a little anxious, I got ready for work and headed in. I knew the moment I entered the office that something had changed. Almost from the time I'd begun to serve, the office had buzzed with an air of energy that was almost electric. As I moved from office to office passing out coffee, I didn't get fondled even once. Puzzled, and more than a little disappointed, I settled at the reception desk and went to work. Midmorning, I was told to lock up and go to the conference room. The moment I received the summons, my entire body tensed with expectation. When I arrived, however, everyone was looking tense and sober and more than a little contrite. Lyle looked more uncomfortable than any of the others and my heart nearly failed me. "Sit—please." I looked at him in surprise and finally moved to the chair he'd indicated, perching uneasily on the edge of the seat. It took him several moments to gather his thoughts and by the time he'd begun I was already imagining all sorts of awful things. "We've thoroughly investigated both the break in and you and arrived at the conclusion that we made a serious mistake, that you were unjustly accused and—." I stared at him blankly. I'd been enjoying myself so much I'd all but forgotten that we weren't just having fun, that I was supposed to be serving time for a crime I'd committed. I glanced at the others seated around the conference table, but, with the exception of Billy, none of the others would
meet my eye. "We want to offer restitution." The comment drew my gaze back to Lyle. I stared at him for a long moment. "What sort of restitution?" He named a sum that made my heart skip several beats. "For—punishing me?" I finally managed to ask. He flushed slightly, glancing at the others. "We could go a little higher." I frowned. The idea of the money was exciting, naturally— and it would be nice to get a better salary so that I wasn't always skating the edge of ruin, but I didn't really see a lot of point in a lump sum settlement. I was fairly certain it would only lead me to wild spending and eventually I'd be penniless again, only with a lot more stuff to move the next time I had to. "This is—this is what you all want to do?" There was some throat clearing and then a general murmur of agreement. I knew what I wanted. The question was, did I have the guts to ask for it? I decided I did. Clenching my hands together in my lap, I looked at them one by one. "I was brought up to believe in an eye for an eye." Brows rose. The men exchanged nervous glances. I dragged in a sustaining breath. "I served four months. You owe me four—each of you." Absolute silence prevailed for the space of several heart beats. Finally, Billy grinned. "I'm in—but only if I get more time for good behavior." I glanced at Lyle. He was frowning—at Billy. Finally, he turned to look at me. "I'm yours," he murmured. The others fell over themselves to agree as soon as they were certain I was serious. Satisfied, I got up from the chair. "Fine—but no more fooling around at the office. We're trying to run a business here." They were as good as their word. For months, I had them all to myself. Eventually, all of them, with the exception of Billy and Lyle, went their separate ways, but I was very happy with only a two man harem, particularly since Lyle and Billy were my favorite pieces of white bread sandwich. Six months later Lyle explained exactly what he'd meant by 'his obsession' by asking me to marry him. I was torn. I loved him, but I also adored Billy. Apparently, he realized the dilemma wasn't something I could overcome. The three of us agreed that Lyle would be my official husband, and Billy my unofficial husband—and we were all content to have it that way.
The End