Fiction Friday- "A Charitable Impulse"

"Jean, what's on my schedule after 11?", Julia Mulloy asked her long time assistant, voice just loud enough to be heard through the open doorway linking their adjoining offices. 

 "Well...your staff meeting at 11, then at 1pm you get arrested". 

 "Huh?" Julia stood, striding on long shapely legs towards her assistant's desk, eyebrows raised. 

 "Remember...you volunteered for this year's Children's Hospital Jail Fundraiser. You get arrested. Your staff and friends bail you out. We've been raising money for weeks. I hear you will be a very valuable prisoner." 

 "Right...wish you had reminded me. I'm not exactly dressed for the penitentiary". 

 Julia raised her arms, turning, modeling the short black skirt and form fitting creamy silk blouse that was her typical business attire. Sheer dark hose and black pumps completed the ensemble. "I had that breakfast presentation today ". ." 

 In contrast, Jean was relatively short, with frosted blond hair cut closer than the long black hair of her boss. Jean's smaller body was fit from years of tennis and running. Unmarried, she was a few years older than the young executive she had worked with since joining the company ten years earlier. She prided herself in her loyalty and discretion that made them quite a team.Up until today that is. 

 "I'm sure they were impressed", Jean commented, taking in the tall shapely body of her boss. "But no problem, I am sure your jailers will treat you well. Maybe the sexy outfit will get you time off for good behavior." 

 "So what is the incarceration drill?", Julia asked, heading back to her desk to plow through accumulated emails. Following her into her office, Jean looked over Julia's shouldrer, a smile creasing her lips . "Oh, no big deal. An officer picks you up here, takes you downtown to the Hospital's "holding cell", one of us will be there promptly to pay your bail". 

 "Well don't be late...I want to work out tonite. I have the night off for a change." 

 "Not to worry", Jean said, her smile turning into a grin as she turned her back, heading back to her office. "If only she knew" she thought to herself. 

 Julia Mulloy was a beautiful 30 something who wanted and had it all: a great career managing the foundation of a Fortune 500 company. two great kids, off this week at summer camp, a successful attentive husband, if off on some business trip tonite, and a long, well toned body to die for. Of course, she didn't get where she was in life without making a few enemies. Among her staff there were those who appreciated her talent and support, but secretly called her a bitch when she got into her demanding mode. Outside the company she had also made her share of enemies. When you had a budget of millions to spread around the City's many charities those that got were appreciative. Those that were left off the largesse list took it personal. 

 Julia's busy morning melted into early afternoon. As plates of chicken salad were cleared from the conference room table, Jean answered the buzz of a nearby phone. Looking at Julia, eyes twinkling, she said "Looks like its time for your arrest". Smiles, laughs broke out among the half dozen, mostly female members of Julia's staff.. 

 "I can't belive I let you con me into this", Julia protested, as a short slender female version of the City's finest was shown into the conference room. 

 "I'm Officer Patricia Dunn. Is Julia Mulloy here?" she said, all business. 

 Standing, Julia reached to shake the officer's hand . "Just let me freshen up and get my purse". 

 "Sorry Maa'm, where you are going the purse won't be necessary." 

 Grasping the young executives wrist, the short but surprisingly strong officer swiftly ratcheted shut the open handcuff she had concealed from Julia in her closed hand. "Wait', Julia excalimed, "You don't need to..." . 

"Just following procedures". Officer Dunn responded, twisting the cuffed wrist behind the back of the blushing executive, then clasping and cuffing the other wrist, behind her back. 

 "This is humiliating", Julia muttered, as her staff, at first surprised, laughed at their assertive boss's sudden demise at the hands of the much smaller female officer. "This is not funny", Julia said, more loudly, face red., glaring at Jean, who approached her. "Don't worry, Julia. Its all for a good cause". Jean pushed the dark hair that had tumbled over her boss's face behind her ear, attempting to sooth ruffled feathers. "Let me get your jacket". SHe placed the black, designer suit jacket over her boss's broad , muscular shoulders, hiding the cuffs from view. 

 Julia squirmed in the binding handcuffs. She thought about other times she had been cuffed. Privately. But quickly sought to suppress the thought. This was different. Humiliating. Non-consensual. But the reflections on those past encounters with binding steel made her stomach flutter. Of couse, none of them knew. "Let's get this over with" she demanded, trying to reassert control over the situation and her own slightly deviant thoughts. 

 "Just a second. I have some special orders with this arrest", Officer Dunn said, interrupting Julia's effort to reassert control.. "And those are?" Julia retorted, looking down on the officer approaching her, eyebrow raised in disdain. 

 "Apparently you are considered to be a "dangerous" prisoner. One of the contributor's has pledged more money if we take high security measures when bringing you in. 

More titters from the staff, supressed by a glare from Julia. "How much more?" 

"$5000", Jean interjected. 

  "You knew about this?", Julia demanded, turning her disdainful glare on her assistant. 

 "You know the Hospital is our No. 1 Charity this year. I've been working the phones to make you the most valuable prisoner in this year's dock.You have some special friends out there willing to pay big for your arrest and release." 

 Temporarily pacified by her assistant's apparent devotion to a good cause, Julia sheepishly looked at the officer, "OK...do your worst". Another stomach flutter , sliding a bit lower , arose from that act of submission, and her curiosity about what was to come. 

 She had not seen the leather pouch the officer had brought with her. Out came the broad leather belt, strapped around her waist, securing her wrists in back. What were the other D's rings for, Julia speculated. 

 Then the ankle shackles. Padded leather, connected by a 12 inch chain. "At least they won't run those hose", Jean said, all too perkily. 

 Finally a leather contraption that made Julia step back, only to be braced by Jean from behind. "No" was all Julia could say, shaking her head. "Sorry", officer Dunn responded, as Jean cooed her sympathetic assurances. "Just think of those Children!" Her back pressed against the conference table, Julia really had no choice but to submit as the leather mask slid over her face, covering eyes in darkness. SHe shook her head and opened her mouth in protest as the officer, or was it Jean, slid a thick leather plug into her mouth, gagging her tightly as the contraption was buckled off, behind her neck, under her long raven hair. All she could do was shake her head in frustration now, with hands and ankles restrained. No laughter now as the staff was silenced in amazement at so thorough a subjection of their normally in control boss. 

 In darkness, Julia was led by the elbow from the room, down silent hallways, presumably out the back door into the office's parking garage. She wondered which of her colleagues had witnessed her humiliating arrest. Doing the perp walk for charity now seemed no less embarrassing than the real thing. 

 Jean was still at her side, making small talk with the officer as they headed, presumably, to some waiting vehicle. Julia heard the chirp of an unlocking door , and the sound of a van door sliding back. Officer Dunn said, "I believe the orders call for one more security measure." Julia could only mumble her confusion through gagged lips. Then she was turned her back pressed against the side of the van. 

 Now Jean's voice came to her from inches away. But it seemed a different Jean, hands now pressed against Julia, one on shoulder one on hip. "Julia...you may hate me after this is over. But, knowing you, working for you as long as I have, I have decided to take that risk. Plus...we've raised lots of money for the hospital!" WIth that, Jean 's fingers slid to the waist of her boss,opening the fastener and zipper of that short black skirt. Despite squirms and muted protests, gravity took the skirt to Julia's ankles, where firm hands lifted each shackled foot to pull it away, exposing the dark pantyhose that covered Julia's muscular legs. 

  "Hmmm...no undies", the officer commented archly. "She hates panty lines", Jean responded, as if Julia was not there. Julia turned even redder, frustrated that she could not be heard through her gag, then astonished as she felt Jean, or was it the officer, fiddle with the leather belt at her waist, attaching who knows what, then spinning her around, chest now pressed firmly against the van. Hands reached between her thighs, lingering intimately, to Julia's astonishment, then pulling something through. 

  "I believe she's wet already", Jean commented to the officer, who laughed softly. Whatever had been pulled through her legs was connected to the leather belt in back, then . tightened with a jerk that brought Julia to her toes. Gasping into her gag, Julia was turned again, facing the unseen Jean. But this time Jean moved even closer, one of her thighs sliding between Julia's , pressing against an undeniably responsive cunt, making Julia breath hard, heart racing. 

 "Julia, darling. You and I have had a business like relationship all these years. But as your assistant I pick up things. Like those emails to that woman lawyer in Boston." Julia gasped. Those were private. "Or the handcuffs you used to keep buried in your briefcase". Another gasp. Mike had given her those. To use with that Boston lawyer. "Then there was that kinky bondage novel you had in your desk for so many months." Julia's head sunk. Busted. 

 "But sometimes you can be so dense. You know I like women. But you never picked up on the crush I've had for you all these years". Now Jean's fingers were sliding under Julia's silk blouse, teasing a nipple with strong polished nails. Julia's pulse raced, cunt now dripping. 

 "Well it turns out I am not the only one with a crush on you. Someone you know has decided to pay big to your favorite charity for some quality time with you today. Your schedule is clear through late tonite. When your evening is over, give me a call and tell me whether I have a job in the morning....Better yet. Stop by and give me the blow by blow. Let me soothe those aching muscles." With a final tweek at Julia's left nipple, and a final grind of thigh against molten cunt, Jean stepped away. 

 "Take her away officer", Jean said with a laugh. "But let me turn this on first". Julia jumped as she felt a vibrator, incorporated in the cunning crotch strap, come to life in close contact with her sex. Her knees nearly buckled as she took in her plight and the confession of lust she had just received from her long time assistant. In a fog mingling embarrassment with a quickening sexual agitation, she let the officer slide her into the van, where she was buckled into place, squirming in her bonds, on the van's firm bench seat. Her assistant had learned of and exploited her darkest fantasies. The effect was incendiary. But where was she headed now? 

Question: How to Best Secure a Slave During a Business Trip?

Mistress and Slave left work a little early Friday.

The bright fall sunshine and warm air demanded an early start to the weekend with a brisk bike ride before the sun went down.

But there was still some time for worship.

Mistress stripped away her work cloths ( I did get this photo before that task was done. I figure those   pantyhose fetishists out there will enjoy this one. and don't you like those green undies?).

But as I was putting a pillow on the floor for my aging knees, her text message chime went off.

I handed her the I-phone.

“Is that your boyfriend, Mistress?”

“He’s really not a ‘boyfriend’, Slave….but yes it is…. He wants to know what I am up to….”

“Well tell him you are about to be worshipped, Mistress…”

“Better yet, a photo….”

She positioned the camera just so, showing me positioned to serve her, her clean shaven pussy lips smiling at the base of the shot.

She sent it off to him as I dove into that welcoming valley, exploring with my tongue, suckling on her little bud.

I could barely hear the chime as he replied.

“He says, “VERY HOT”, Slave.

Yes, M, she is.

On our ride Mistress brought up her trip to Nashville next week – a two night business foray with some colleagues.

“The Western Correspondent is very curious about what I’m going to do with you Slave….”

“As in?”

“He thinks I should lock you in the cage while I’m gone.”

“That’s up to you, Mistress….”

“Of course, we will have to figure what to do with the key, in case there is an emergency.”

“Yes, I suppose there’s always a chance I might have to go to some building with a metal detector.”

“Maybe we can keep one key in a secret location in the house, and another that you cold collect at my office from my assistant if I give the OK.”

Somehow this was getting to me. Those little twitches were back, even as I pedaled up hill. Mistress knows how to drive her Slave to distraction.

“So why does M find this to be such a good idea, Mistress?”

“He likes the idea of me having phone sex with him on my trip, while you are locked away… waiting for me to return. Getting increasingly desperate…. He says it’s a very HOT idea.”

“And what do you think, Mistress.”

“You know how much I like you desperate for me Slave…. What Mistress wouldn’t.”

I was getting there.

“Will you be packing the Hitachi, Mistress.”

“Of course, Slave… you won’t have any use for it here.”

I was imagining Mistress at M’s “disposal” on her trip…. Retreating to her hotel room to strip and writhe for him on demand.

Twitch.

“Maybe we should ask your sub-sisters what they think, Slave…. Should I lock you up while I’m gone…. Not just when you are at work…. That’s a no-brainer … but for the whole time. Make you sleep in the cage?”

“I’ll float the question to them Mistress….”

Would it surprise you to learn that when we got home, stripped away the sweaty riding clothes, we found ourselves deferring our Friday evening picnic, and sliding between the sheets?

MIstress Presses Several of Her Slave's Buttons.

Mistress put me on notice early on Saturday morning:

“Are you ready for my strap on this afternoon, Slave?”

Gulp. Yes. I was ready. But somehow the advance notice always sends a shiver down my spine that settles at the base of my balls.

After a trip to the gym, some auto maintenance and other light Saturday duties, Mistress suggested we adjourn to the bedroom, announcing to the surly teens that their parents would be taking a “nap”.

Mistress must have decided to press several of her Slave’s buttons. First she slid into those silky nude toned pantyhose with the special access passage carved into the crotch. She knows their texture can drive this Slave to distraction.

Next she donned her strap-on (the photo is from a few weeks back, but you get the picture). Menacing with promise.

She likes her Slave naked, and I obliged. Soon we were both under the sheets, me sidling against her sensuously sheathed legs, she grasping my cock with obvious purpose. Within a few minutes I was begging to fuck her ….but, of course, she laughed me off.

“Slave, you know who will be doing the fucking ….”

I was fully prepared to submit.

But just as were preparing  for the main event, the text on Mistress’s cell chimed. Mine too. It was surly teen number 2, demanding an immediate ride to a friend’s house. Argh. (Why does a teen text her parents from down the hall, rather than walk a few short steps and knock on the door? Maybe under those circumstances one can’t complain.)

Being a pushover, I obliged. Though it was literally painful to pry Mistress’s warm fingers from my swollen appendage. I slid into a pair of jeans, and was soon off into the cold Midwestern air for driving duty.

15 minutes later I returned.  Fortunately, Mistress had not found an alternative “victim”, and was still there, under the warm covers, tending to internet duties on her laptop. I was glad not to have been replaced.

It did not take long for Mistress’s skilled attentions, and my own roving mouth and fingers, to put us back in the same crazed state we had created for one another before that damn text chime.

Mistress directed me to assume the proper position.

With my Ass plumped up for her, she found her target and plunged in, filling me with her hard plastic tool. My firm, desperate cock throbbed against the pillow beneath me as Mistress exercised her powers, reducing her Slave to a panting, whimpering receptacle.

Maybe I was distracted in my own little sub space, but it seemed that Mistress’s quivering explosion crept up on her quickly, as she suddenly bucked against me, losing the rhythm of her penetrating strokes, her nails digging into my shoulders as she moaned in her pleasure.

“That’s enough for now Slave.”

She rose, leaving her apparatus on the bathroom floor for Slave to attend to later. I remained spread out on the bed, breathing hard, in the strange state of semi-shock I find after these sessions.

She commanded me to insert my little probe, so I struggled up from the sheets sticking to my body, and complied. My ass was open and ready.

Returning to the bed, my cock full and ready for her, Mistress lay back, and helped me find the little opening in her panty hose so that I could fuck her properly.

She was still in need, but now it was my time to do the work. And I was happy to clock in. In these tough economic times, it’s crazy to pass up a little overtime on a Saturday afternoon.

Mistress Gives Marital Advice

Mick and Molly wandered back from the wedding of the decade around midnight. It seemed like one of those nights where the tired adventurers would take a pass: a long day of photos, polite chatter, open bars and food, food, food. 

The surly teens were already tucked away on their half of the hotel suite.  Mistress removed her well fitted maid of honor dress, likely never to see the light of day again.

Slave stripped away the Tux, bow tie, dress shirt, studs and links. All that was left was the tight hard plastic cock ring Mistress had instructed him to put on much, much earlier in the day.

The cock ring had not been particularly bothersome through the day’s events.  A crowd that featured lots of women of undetermined age with colored hair who tithe to their plastic surgeons had not been a source of stimulation. And Mistress was required to be charming to all those long lost and now aging cousins and high school friends who showed for the big event.  She had no time to taunt or tease her Slave.

The only veiled reference to our peculiar relationship was one that Mistress made to a male cousin, about her age, concerning marriage: “After all these years, we have learned that marriage only works when one partner takes charge. Don’t you agree Mick?”, she asked. “Of course”, I replied. The cousin seemed to think that Mistress meant her older, grayer husband was the Boss. But I set him straight by commenting, without a drip of sarcasm, “I live to serve her.” He seemed confused.

By now, Mistress was down to the nude panty hose she had worn under her wedding costume. I am one who enjoys the feel and texture of the silky nylon encasing a woman’s legs.  But then Mistress pointed to a unique feature. “I discovered this earlier tonite, Slave. There is an opening where your cock goes….” Obviously, I was intrigued. She offered to sleep in them for our morning time play. Who was I to object?

The lights out, we rolled toward each other in bed. Mistress acknowledged she was tired and a bit tipsy. And I had no plans for anything other than the sleep of the dead. But Mistress’s tricked out pantyhose and my now tightening cock ring conspired against our initial intentions.

It started with my semi-innocent desire to feel the opening she had pointed out. As my fingers found, then lingered within her soft folds, it was obvious that Mistress was responsive, her hips making those involuntary squirms and shuffles that found a rhythm with the fingers sliding against her.

At first I pulled away, my curiosity satisfied. Mistress seemed cool with that, and sleep was tempting. There would always be morning, only a few hours away.

But that’s where the ring came in. My cock had hardened some as I explored Mistress’s cunning opening. Once hard, the ring conspired to keep it that way, the blood trapped by the ring that seemed to get tighter by the minute. There was only on way to resolve that problem.

Mistress was on her tummy now, restless but seemingly committed to sleep. I slid on top of her, and she was amused by the hard cock pressed against the crack of her well contained ass. My fingers squirmed beneath her and she responded nicely, soon rolling over and giving me permission to enter. ‘But you will have to do the work tonite, Slave.” Soon she expressed her pleasure with how hard my cock had become with no effort of her own.

It was a snap to find the opening in her hose and slide inside. As we fucked away I tried to raise her temperature a bit by talking about her quest for a part time Dom. She conceded in her passion that her body responds to the idea of being taken by another with a firm hand, someone who will firmly train her to please him, and treat her like the little slut she sometimes longs to be. These concessions were made in a voice laden with so much heat that I was grateful our suite was protected by a sprinkler system.

At some point she demanded that I roll over. The woman who had seemed so ready for sleep minutes earlier was a tigress now, taking her pleasure from me as she pounded her cunt onto my throbbing, ringed cock and balls. It hurt a bit, but Mistress’s pleasure was the priority now. She came hard, gasping, sobbing, the tears flowing until she was exhausted and gave up, rolling over for me to use her as I saw fit.

Fatigue and the by now almost painfully tight ring demanded that I take a long slow road to my own release. When it came (with permission granted) it was in a series of spurts that had me groaning with  relief, and Mistress with gratitude that she could finally get some sleep.