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? 

Threadbare?

Mistress and slave had a laid back weekend here in River City, particularly on Saturday when our typical familial engagements were scrubbed. It left time for some exhilarating wake-up sex, which also put an end to slave's abstinence arising from Jay's Thursday night sleep over. Then there was a bike ride and even some mid-day sunning on what might have been the last day of "Indian summer" here in the heartland.

It didn't take slave much to persuade Mistress to relax in our garden, where she basked and napped for a couple of hours with me.  But I could not  resist taking a photo of her when she was snoozing. Is it me, or is her lovely bottom a little more exposed than usual in this photo?

On Sunday morning we celebrated a switch day light, with slave deploying Mistress' s favorite power tool to "force" a rather dramatic orgasm from her clean shaven folds.

BTW, even though Jay has reappeared, Mistress did not cancel some scheduled "meet and greets" with a few gentlemen she has received overtures from via OK Cupid.  Last night she and I met Ken, a guy about her age who purports to me "sapiosexual".  Ken is an interesting guy, divorced, well educated, who has immersed himself in "sacred sexuality" via a number of kinky sounding seminars he has attended in places as far and wide as San Diego, Michigan and London (England, not Kentucky). But will there be a connection?

"He's interesting slave....but the jury's still out on whether there's an attraction."

Clearly, Ken was attracted to Mistress. He's anxious to move onto the "next phase", and even referenced some ongoing arousal as the two departed with a hug yesterday evening at a local watering hole.

But then Mistress has a tendency to do that to guys.

Unscheduled Cuckold Sleepover

Mistress took me a little by surprise earlier this week when she mentioned that Jay (her long lost lover) had suggested they go to dinner on Thursday night.

Jay had disappeared from her life about 8 months ago, without any real explanation. It was annoying and inconsiderate, and a subject of conversation between us for a while. But then Mistress seemed to let it go, moving on to other things, including OK Cupid and JJ.

But then, after our return from Africa, the two talked a bit, and then had lunch last week.

"He apologized for disappearing slave. Said he was in a 'funk', and I was gone so much he just sort of gave up on me."

Jay has the burden of an aging Mom and a disabled son. So a "funk" was a credible explanation.


Now it was a more formal "date",  an evening out together. But would there be more? On Thursday, as Mistress primped for him and I prepared some dinner to take over to my cute grandkids, we discussed contingencies.

"So will he be sleeping over, Mistress...."

"I really don't know, slave. Let's just see how it goes."

Jay was stopping by to pick Mistress up shortly after I left for my daughter's house. It occurred to me that there might be some "making out" going on in my living room as I helped set the dinner table and carved the roast chicken I had brought with me. Or maybe this would simply be a chaste visit? Were they shifting into a "just friends" mode?

While I was eating dinner with my grandkids, Mistress gave me a call.

"We're eating at [a restaurant in the neighborhood]. Why don't you stop by and have a drink with us on the way home? Oh.... and Jay's spending the night,,,,,,"

So it seemed Mistress and Jay had patched things up?

At the little neighborhood bistro where they were eating, I joined them over desert. We caught up for lost time, talked about our trip to Africa, and the latest crazy emitting from the White House. Then we headed back to our house.

Jay patiently suffered through my little slide show on our Kili adventure. Then Mistress hinted that it was time to retire to her "executive suite". I think she was looking forward to some "make up" sex, which is always the best, isn't it?

I had made my own contingency plan: before leaving I had made sure my laptop and kindle were already ready for me in our daughter's room. I did not want to interrupt them in flagrante. And as I drifted off to sleep, without Mistress to warm the bed, I could hear some rather loud and enthusiastic moans of sexual release emanating  through the door of our bedroom, along with murmurs of animated conversation during the respites that they took from more active sexual engagement.

They clearly were back in a comfortable saddle, and making up for lost time.

Jay had said he was setting his alarm for 6 am, and I was prepared by then downstairs to make him some coffee. But it turned out that the two reunited lovebirds "slept in". It wasn't until 8 am that they emerged, looking a little rumpled, but satisfied. I made Jay that coffee, and soon he was on the way, but not without a lingering goodbye kiss.

Mistress allowed her slave to worship after Jay left, and I had a chance to savor all those intermingled juices that are left behind after a night in bed with your "side dish".  But Mistress made clear that her slave would be experiencing an unscheduled "abstinence day".

"I think I've had more than enough sex for today slave....."

"Understood, Mistress."

Fortunately, I suspect Mistress will be more than ready for her slave's attention this morning.



"

The Cougar Effect

Mistress has been filtering through a variety of OJ Cupid supplicants over the last week. She is (and has every right to be) very selective. Which means sometimes a guy who seems like a prospect ends up in the cutting room floor.

Like the guy looking for a dominant woman. We toyed with the idea of a tag team of two slave tending to Mistress's needs. But this guy seemed more focused on his own needs.  She indicated a willingness to meet. He was asking for more information about Mistress's "style of dominance". But Mistress resists any sort of explicit chat before meeting someone.

"Slave, I've learned that when you do that, and then meet and discover there is no chemistry, you feel pretty stupid about sharing all that information....."

Makes sense. As her corresponding secretary I explained her reticence, but  told the guy he was welcome to share his own preferences if he felt comfortable doing that.  In response, the would be sub said he was looking for a "more hard or sadistic Woman to submit fully to. A Woman who enjoys subjecting a male fully to her whims and enjoys S&M and bondage to a fuller degree."

Hmmm.

When I described these preferences to Mistress, she sighed.  "That sounds like a lot of work, slave...."

In addition, and as I told this dude, Mistress is neither "hard" nor a sadist. And while she could work with someone willing to show his submission and devotion, and wear a cock cage to his heart's content, a guy looking for sadism and "hard" might consider looking elsewhere. The guy agreed when Mistress responded that "if you're looking for sadism, I'm not your cup of tea."

One thing that has become clear is that any successful supplicants for Mistress's attention are probably going to be younger than she is. The guys in their mid to late 50's on OK Cupid around here seem pretty dull and, well.....old.

"They seem a lot older than you do, slave.....even though they might be 10 years younger."

I guess Mistress keeps her slave younger than his actual age!

This brings us to an article in the Times yesterday, titled I want my 2.3 bonus years. It's written by a woman in her 30's bemoaning the fact that guys her age would rather date women in their 20's. It enclosed this chart that supposedly shows the preferences of men and women on OK Cupid, that she says shows that men of older ages are attracted to younger women, while women are attracted to guys their own age.



But I took away another message:  once women hit age 40 or so, the curve bends.   Once they his 40, women are  attracted to younger men. (The chart, sadly, ends at age 50. But presumably women in their 50's also follow the trending of jonesing for  younger guys).  This COUGAR tendency certainly is consistent with Mistress's experience. I mean she already has an old guy!  Why not go for someone down the food change.

Of course, this leaves old slaves like me twisting in the wind. If the curve on this chart was to continue on, my guess is only women in their late 70's would be interested in a guy approaching 67, even if I did just summit Kili.  I'm very grateful  Mistress hasn't kicked me to the curb just yet!