Controlling Sarah

Author: JohnTagliaferro

This is the second story that I have
posted to aEroticStories.com.  I love this site and invite feedback to
my contributions.  This one was a true team effort!
 

I kept the formatting simple this
time.  I will update if this ends up as a novel. 
 

This, and all of my fiction, is just
that, fiction.  None of these characters are based on anybody living or
dead.  None of the events are real.  I do not advocate any illegal
activity and nobody should emulate these characters.

    – John Tagliaferro

The series of chats and emails
dumped into John’s inbox must have been a bear to go through.  It was
just as fun helping turn it into a story as it was chatting the original
in AIM and seeing them put together in a story.  This veers away from
the original a lot and the reader should be thankful for that 😉

    – Sarah

I love the way this project was
organized.  We all wrote different characters, characters far away from
our nature, which was a challenge and a thrill and John pulled it all
together.  I was the character developer for his other two series.  I
guess Sarah and I were for this too.  We supplied descriptions for
‘Sarah’, ‘Nancy’, ‘Joe’ and ‘Edward’.  Much of their dialogue survived
the revisions.  In the original chat, we were ‘ourselves’ online, in
fantasy chat.  Another person in the chat became ‘Edward’.  Could be fun
if readers try to guess which character we wrote!

    – Suki 
     

    1. The Cuts Will Begin
    Immediately

Most who worked in the corporate
offices of SJE Enterprises knew the Senior Manager of Finance, Sarah J.
Kneeler as a cool, young, calm, and intelligent manager.  Her clear,
fair skin and happy manner gave the impression that she was much younger
than her peers, a frequent false assumption.  The diplomas and awards on
the walls of her office had the dates visible and anybody could do the
math and ‘discover’ that Sarah was at least forty.  Watching her pace
across the small stage before delivering her instructions was a shock,
even to those who knew her as an analyst.  She never had to deliver such
sweeping bad news before; the old management had vice presidents and
above carry the news.  Under the new regime, each tier of the hierarchy
delivered the news to the level below, en masse.  ‘I should have worn a
different suit.  Black is so authoritarian and this belt looks like a
five buckle waist cincher.  This news is bad enough, I shouldn’t be
dressed so domineering,’ Sarah thought as the last of her group
entered.  She motioned to the ones in the back to close the doors, took
a deep breath, and approached the podium.  The calming effect of the
slow exhale was erased by the sharp report of her spike heels, which did
not help calm her audience either.

“Group, we have some serious cuts
coming and, as your manager and friend, am making every effort to
alleviate the pain, especially to provide ‘top cover’ from the
executives.”  She took another breath and a drink of water.  For some
reason, even her hair “hurt” pulled back tight into a bun.  “Make no
mistake, these initial cuts are only the beginning.  We have the most
efficient group in the corporation.  However, corporate has made it
clear than no group will go without cuts and that includes us. 
It begins with the administrative assistants.  All of you assigned
admins will counsel them today, their two-week layoff notices will be
issued no later than next Friday.  Review their evaluations and do
whatever you can to help them find new homes.  Managers, you only have a
few days to learn what they were taking care of and all of those duties
will be yours once they leave.  Budget your time wisely!”

Sarah continued through the details. 
‘At least I do not have to lay off analysts . . . yet,’ she thought with
measured relief as she neared the end.  Sarah never minded speaking in
front of groups, especially her team.  That day, stepping off the podium
was the biggest relief of her life.  She walked smartly down the center
aisle and choked back the urge to cry as two smiling interns opened the
double doors for her.  ‘Do they always schedule my group meetings on the
opposite end of the floor from my office just to ogle me?’ Sarah thought
as she strode by the “cube farm.”  Even those who would rather look away
could not help notice how her tailored black suit framed her broad
shoulders and narrow waist.  The 5” heel of her pumps only added to the
effect.

Sarah gently closed her door, walked
straight to her desk, and pulled a few tissues from the drawer just in
time to catch the tears from the short cry she allowed herself.  “At
least I never wanted an assistant of my own.  I don’t have a right arm
to fire.”

As she touched-up her light makeup, a
message came across from the Director of Finance.  Sarah was to make a
home for one of the executive secretaries who needed to be retained. 
“Damn it!  I don’t want a secretary!  If I were an executive, maybe I
would need one, but I sure as hell don’t need one as a senior manager!”
Sarah grumbled to herself as she typed a polite response, respectfully
declining the additional help.

The DF replied immediately and Sarah
was stunned.  “Of all the secretaries in the world, I get Clarke against
my will?  I would rather do without managers than have that disruptive
fool in my office!  How she has remained here is beyond me.  She is the
gruffest, loudest, rudest . . . “  Sarah’s thoughts aloud were
interrupted by a knock on her door.  "Yes, come in."

"Misses Kneeler, I’m just stopping by
to let you know I am ready to start whenever you like.  When may I move
into my new office?"

‘The the executive secretaries not
assigned to an executive were supposed to be laid off too.  This must be
the result of some senior management deal and everybody else knew about
it before me, no discussion.  Let Sarah take her, she never complains .
. .’ she thought, then replied to Nancy, "Whenever the move team says
that your workstation is ready, Miss Clarke."

"Misses Kneeler, I go by Misses
Clarke, never Miss and tech already has the workstation setup.  The move
team is ready whenever you say."  Her smug tone turned to one of greater
insolence as she noticed the single strand of antique pearls on Mrs.
Kneeler’s neck.  Nancy, a product working class Scotch-Irish stock from
the "rust belt,” was sensitive to shows of class differences.

Sarah tried to keep her groan at
Nancy’s insubordinate attitude to herself and then struck upon an idea. 
If she was stuck with Nancy, she needed to correct, or at least
neutralize her disruptive manner and she needed a location advantage for
the first discussion.  "Nancy, how about having dinner tonight with my
husband and I?  If you do not have other plans, of course.  Your spouse
can join us," She hesitantly chose the neutral, not truly knowing if
Misses Clarke was married to a man or a woman.  "We would love to have
you both."

"Such a gracious boss!  Of course, Joe
and I would love to be your guests.  What time do you have in mind
Misses Kneeler?"

"Oh, just take care of your move and
come over any time.  Here is the address.  I will call Ed to have dinner
ready by seven.  I should be there by then.  The boys can chat and watch
the game after dinner while we share a drink or two and go over the
particulars on how I like my office to run."

"Very well Misses Kneeler.  I used to
manage the move team.  They can take care of things.  I have a few
errands to take care of, along with anything you need?"

"Nothing for me.  See you tonight."

Before Nancy closed the door, she was
yelling profanities at the move team, along with anybody else who
happened by.  Her grating voice only added to the irritation.  Sarah
always thought Nancy sounded like a frog with gravel in its throat and a
bad smoking habit.  This was the first time she experienced the full
volume.  She wrote a note to herself to bring up the profanity and
manner after dinner.  She also noted to herself not to mention spotting
Nancy in the occasional kink or swinger‘s clubs and thanked God Nancy
had never spotted her in one.

    2. Mister Kneeler, House Husband

"Ed, my new secretary and her husband
are joining us for dinner.  Have a ham and trimmings ready by seven, do
everything up nice and the outfit on your schedule for today will be
fine."

"Yes, Ma’am.  Will you be arriving with
them?"

"I don’t know, Pet.  They may arrive
before me so be a darling and entertain them in that situation."  Sarah
hung up the phone without listening for a reply.

Edward was the bright, very young
engineer at another firm when they met right after Sarah earned her
PhD.  He was neat, even in his own home, polite, proper, and brilliant. 
Sarah was a single mother and saw Ed as a potential energetic life
partner, as well as father figure and mentor to her daughter, Suzanne. 
Those ideas fell apart when the extent of his submissiveness emerged. 
She could not stand having a submissive lover, at least one more
submissive than her.  Over the years, it consumed him and completely
changed their relationship.  Instead of husband and stepfather, he
slowly became chauffer/butler/babysitter and tutor, until Suzanne went
off to school and Sarah’s unwanted advantage grew greater.  He still
attended to all the household duties with an almost psychic ability to
anticipate what Sarah wanted.  Besides household chores, he facilitated
Sarah’s ‘social’ schedule and cleaned up after.

Just after four o’clock, as he was
putting everything into the ovens to cook, Ed heard the doorbell.  "Who
can that be?  We are not expecting any deliveries."  He checked the
monitor to see a small framed woman with a great “tight” figure.  She
turned to face the camera and the impression changed dramatically.  Her
wrinkled face suggested that she was perhaps fifty or sixty.  The effect
on her neck-length hair was dramatic; from the back appearing platinum
blonde, but combined with her face, it was most definitely white.  She
wore a tight golden satin blouse, tight black skirt, sheer black
stockings, and tall black pumps.  Everything was simple, from the gold
ankle chain to the gold chain necklace, watch, and bracelet.  Ed opted
to answer through the intercom, "May I help you miss?"

“Mister Kneeler?  I’m Misses Clarke,
your wife’s new secretary."

Greeting one of her guests
through the intercom sent Ed into a panic.  He almost dropped the pan of
potatoes before slamming them into the oven and punching the cook
program.  He ran through the house to the front door.  "Misses Clarke, I
must apologize, I was not expecting anybody for a few hours."

Nancy was surprised with the frail,
sniveling brown-haired creature not much taller than herself that
greeted her, holding an apron, wearing a custom-tailored teal
button-down, khakis, and loafers.  Even his watch was of a feminine
preppy style.  She was expecting Mister Kneeler to be something more
like an executive or entrepreneur who just enjoyed the kitchen, maybe
even worked from home, but still big and powerful, like her husband
Joe.  She did not even have to think about how to work this into her
plan, it fit all too well.

"Thank you for the apology.  When a
woman says “any time” to come by her house, I take her at her word. 
Show me around?"

"Yes, yes of course Misses Clarke," Ed
said as he watched Nancy strut through the foyer, pull out a cigarette
and drop her purse on the lamp table.  "Misses Clarke, we don’t . . .
um, we do not smoke in the house . . .”

"Light me," she said with her gruff
voice in full growl, and turned her head barely enough to see him from
the corner of her eye.  The timid Edward obeyed, took the glittery
butane lighter from her hand, and nervously flicked it three times
before getting a flame.  ‘More good signs,’ she thought.  ‘Doesn’t take
much to control this one.’  As soon as Nancy pulled a puff, she walked
toward the stairs as Ed stared, hypnotized at her strut.  "Come, boy,
what are you waiting for?"

"Yes, of course Misses Clarke.  I just
need to find an ashtray or plate . . .”

"Nonsense, your hands will do, if you
are quick," she said as she flicked an ash onto the white carpet.

"Misses Clarke!"

"Hurry, before I do it again,"
she growled.

Ed hurried to catch up with Nancy and
escorted her up the stairs, holding his hands out whenever Nancy was
ready to deposit another ash.  If the Woman of the House saw that ash,
he would be in for a severe punishment.  "This is her office. It
is always locked unless she is using it."

"Unlock it."

"Misses Clarke, I am sorry, but even I
do not have a key to that room.  The rest of the home, yes, but not to
there."

"Very well.  What is that room across
the hall?"

"The guest room."

"Really now.  Does she have many guests
overnight?  Over the weekend?"

"Oh yes, quite often . . . " his voice
trailed off as if he had already fallen for a trick.  The look of shame
on his face betrayed him even more.

"Show me."

He escorted her across the hall to the
guest room, catching her ashes along the way.  She was impressed at his
ability to catch the ashes even when she tried to catch him off guard. 
Apparently, Sarah had trained him better than any houseboy submissive
Nancy had encountered.  She did not merely look at the room; it was more
like an inspection.  Simply furnished, a wedding picture of him and
Sarah next to one of the daughter on the nightstand, neatly made bed,
men’s clothes, of his size and style, neatly hung in the closet.  "You
are the guest in this house, little Eddie, aren’t you.  Do you
take me for some fool?  I really do not like being taken for a fool. 
Misses Kneeler and I have been at the same firm for years and run in
some of the same circles.  Don’t you think I know what she really is by
now?"

"I am sorry, Misses Clarke," he
stammered, "she never mentioned you before.  I was only told to make
dinner and entertain you and your husband until she arrives."

She approached him confidently,
cigarette butt extended in her hand.  "Get rid of this and show me where
the guests stay with her for real.  I was picked to be her
executive secretary for a reason and you are going to start
cooperating.  Oh, yes, you are already entertaining me.  Let’s see if it
can become enjoyable instead of a chore?"

Edward took the cigarette and flushed
it down the toilet in his room.  ‘His’ small bathroom had nothing but a
toilet and sink, no shower or tub.  Everything was sparkling clean and
neat, the way he kept the entire house.  After washing his hands, he
escorted Nancy down the hall towards the door at the end.  He fumbled
with a set of keys to unlock it.  "Congratulations on your new position,
Misses Clarke, I did not know that she had been promoted to executive. 
Sorry for being so in the dark about things . . ."

"She is not an executive, yet,
she should have been years ago.  She will be soon and you will help me. 
Understand?  You can stop with any deception.  How did you expect to
explain having to unlock the master bedroom and convince anybody that
you are nothing more than her cuckold?"

"I . . . I don’t know.  I never had to
explain it before."

"So, everybody you have given the tour
to knows now?"

"No, I mean I have never done this
before.  The Woman of the House does that and she never shows the
upstairs if it is a visit from coworkers, or just dinner."

"From now on, whenever she tells you
that others will be in the house, you get the doors unlocked and look
like you are her man, unless instructed otherwise.  Understand?"

"Yes Misses Clarke," he said as he
unlocked the door.  In a striking difference from the contemporary decor
of the rest of the house, the bedroom theme was vibrant and classic. 
The wall-coverings of the giant bedroom were of fine red cloth with a
gold foliage pattern.  Polished hardwood floors and a higher ceiling
than the rest of the rooms on the floor gave a slight echo to Nancy’s
shoes.  In the center, a giant canopy bed, much larger than king-size,
with heavy wooden posts sat atop a beautiful Persian rug.  Large plush
pillows, silk sheets, velvet blankets.  An ornate, heavy cherry dresser
opposite the bed, large wardrobe, nightstands with polished brass
hardware.  Assorted chairs, all very well made.  Even the simple,
armless straight back chair was sturdy, with heavy dowels forming the
back.  Of the many bedrooms she had seen, this was one of the most
beautiful.  It took her a while before noticing the additional
functionality of the furniture.  Every corner of the bed, dresser, and
nightstands, had a strong, recessed brass ring with a brass backing
attached.  The bolts went all the way through to the other side of the
post, or rail, with a nut securing it through another brass plate. 
Other anchors were spaced evenly in-between.  This setup could hold
anything short of a massive wild beast.

"Beautiful room.  Show me the rest."

Ed turned to show Suzanne’s room and
Nancy barked, "The rest of this room."

"But Miss, the rest of her room
is private . . ."

"Show me."

Edward opened the ornate wooden doors
on the far side of the room.  Doors he had not touched in years.  They
opened to a ‘closet’ as big as a regular bedroom.  Rack upon rack of
business wear that Nancy had remembered seeing Sarah wear at SJE, some
she had never seen, along with rows and rows of beautiful shoes and
boots, a few with 3" heels, the rest progressively taller.  In the back,
there were other things.  Costumes, toys, playthings, and fetishwear. 
She walked to the back, reached out, examined, and fondled the ‘play’
sets.  She sniffed one of the gas masks, and a few other items.  "Eddie,
some of these things, like the gas masks, look more like your size than
hers.  Are they for you?"

Ed stuttered answering the question,
"No, I have never worn any of these things."

"Eddie, who wears them?"

"Misses Clarke, I really do not know. 
When she is with others, they spend their time privately.  I rarely get
to see."

"Eddie, when was the last time you were
allowed to play?"

"Um, Misses Clarke, I really do not
know if I would be allowed to answer that, even if I could remember and
I truly cannot remember."

"Eddie, when was the last time you got
off?  The last time you ejaculated?"

"That was this morning, Ma’am."

Nancy noticed his transition into
calling her ‘Ma’am’, another good sign; he was surrendering control to
her.

"Do you need permission from Misses
Kneeler for that?"

"Yes, Ma’am.  In this case, it was
pre-approved permission.  The Woman of the House was happy with the
outfit I picked for her and the way she looked after I dressed her and
did her makeup.  If she says she is happy with her outfit I have
permission," he said with a satisfied smile.  He did not even notice
that he was obeying her as if she was introduced to him as someone to
obey.

“Who picks your clothes?”

“The Woman of the House, Ma’am.  They
are on my schedule.  She gives me changes when her plans change.”

"How often is she pleased with what you
pick for her?"

"Most always, Ma’am."

"Good, something useful for me too. 
Now, show me the other bedroom."

On command, he escorted Nancy to
Suzanne’s room.  "Are those pictures of your daughter and wife?"  Nancy
asked, looking at the ‘wall of Suzanne’, multiple electronic picture
frames showing mother and daughter at every sort of activity with
accompanying medals, ribbons, and certificates.  Ed was missing from
them.

"Ma’am, she is not my daughter, but I
reared her while the Woman of the House advanced her career."

"Oh, I see," Nancy said with her smug
tone returning.  "She is beautiful, almost a clone of her mother, just
not quite as tall."

"Yes Ma’am, even more athletic than the
Woman of the House and brilliant too.  She is a pleasure to tutor."

"I can see where she could be a
temptation, since you two are not really related to each other."

"No Ma’am, not at all.  I have never
had thoughts . . ."

"Shush, I told you about
treating me like a fool.  Do it again and that wife of yours will be
sorry, understand?"

"Ma’am, please don’t hurt her because
of my mistakes?  I truly think of Suzanne as a daughter, not a romantic
partner."

"What about a fuckbuddy?"

"No!  Never, I swear!"  Nancy
read his expression as one of both fear and honesty, and then grudgingly
accepted his answer without adding another punishment for Sarah in her
mental tally.

"Well, I am sure Miss Sarah’s long
weekend orgy guests look at her that way.  It is impossible not to."

Edward did not comment as he followed
her back to the master bedroom.  He had overheard comments from Sarah’s
lovers like that.  Sometimes Sarah would stop play for the night over
the comments and it was rare for those guests to return.

"Edward, get that straight-back wooden
chair and place it at the foot of the bed."

"Yes Misses Clarke," he said and did it
with a bit of a struggle.

"How do you turn on the intercoms so we
can hear all of the downstairs up here in this room?"

"Just enter a ‘1’ in the keypad, Ma’am,
it will feed the whole first floor.  The monitors are set the same way
if you want visual."

"good boy, now do that, just for sound,
and sit in the chair."

Edward complied to-the-letter.  Nancy
approached; she gently kissed and aroused him.  It had been so long
since he had any romantic contact that he ejaculated in his pants almost
immediately.

"Oh, so you find me an attractive
woman?" Nancy said with a smile as she rubbed Ed’s chest through his
shirt.  To her surprise, his chest was firm, he just had a small frame.

"Oh yes, Misses Clarke, you are pretty
and sensual . . .” He stopped in mid sentence.  The simplest of
affection by a wrinkled old woman twice his age with a whiskey and
cigarette voice made him cum explosively and without permission.  His
wife could kick him out as soon as he reported it.  He had not worked
for years; he could be living in a box in days . . .

Nancy saw the terror in his eyes and
spoke softly, "Oh, you didn’t have permission for that from her, did
you?"  Her throaty tone somehow sounded sexy to him, causing him to
squirt in his pants again.

"No, no Ma’am, I didn’t . . ."

"That’s okay baby, I give you
permission," she said before swirling her tongue gently in his mouth.

"But  . . . but Misses Clarke . . .
she did not give me permission . . . herself . . ."  His voice
trailed off in shame.

“She told you to entertain me, yes?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he stammered.

“Then it must be okay.  It brought you
into good report territory.”  Nancy, like many women her age and
especially of her lifestyle, had a fancy for younger men and took the
opportunity to arouse him more, slip his khakis down, pull her panties
aside, and straddle him to make love.

“Misses Clarke, you are so t . . .
tight inside,” he whispered in surprise.  It felt like his first time
with a teenager.

Nancy too felt like she was getting a
teenage virile virgin as she played his emotions and body for her
pleasure and allowed him to think it was his reward.  For another
reward, a deep, passionate kiss, not like the little ones earlier, the
first like that for him in years.  His pent up passion and emotion
poured out from him, she could feel what little power he had left as it
pumped into her with every explosive shot.  It made her feel like a
woman who still ‘had it’ and could easily seduce a man half her age. 
She did not even have to unbutton her blouse and he was crying in joy
beneath her, thanking her profusely.

"Eddie, you stay right here in the
chair.  I am going down to greet your Mistress, understand?"

Ed gulped, "Yes, Ma’am.  I . . . I am
probably in the deepest trouble . . ."

"Eddie, you did as told.  Nobody will
not hurt you unless I allow it.  I will keep an eye on the ovens too, we
don’t want anything ruined.  Everybody will be very hungry by dinner. 
Now, listen carefully for a list of things to have ready up here by the
time she arrives."  With that, Nancy left him, and then he heard her
harsh voice barking orders to him through the first floor intercom.  Ed
obeyed and entered the closet to gather gear and prepare it.

Nancy started with a quick survey of
the house and then moved on to snooping into every corner as she shouted
orders to Ed.  She examined the living room, kitchen, and den monitors. 
An interesting feature only the den monitor had, all of the family cars
could be tracked from there.  The new Mercedes was still in the garage
of SJE Enterprises, the van was in the garage and the Porsche was in
Boston.  Nancy thought to herself, ‘so, their hot little bitch daughter
is going to a fancy Boston school like Joe’s son.  Even better . . .’ 
She figured out how to have the system alert her when Sarah’s car moved,
then settled in to watch some erotica from Sarah’s playlist while
figuring out the whole-house recording system.  Interesting, she
thought, the common theme was blondes in various levels of submission. 
The most ‘mild’ was a young blonde seduced by a coworker and it had the
most views.  The majority were intense bondage and rape themes, every
one with a beautiful blonde as the victim.  She made one call to her
husband and told him to be ready by eight o’clock, asking he wait
outside until called in.

    3. The Day that may never end

Sarah finally noticed it was after six
PM.  "I hope this is not a mistake having that shrew in my house for
dinner. No telling what that husband of hers is like.  Oh well, let’s
get this insanity over with.  By the time she leaves, she will know how
to behave in my office."

As soon as Sarah opened the door to her
sporty white Mercedes, Nancy got an alert.  It updated continuously,
showing her a map of Sarah’s curious route home.  It was not a direct
path back home, that might have taken fifteen minutes.  It meandered
with one stop at a low-key private club.  In a web browser, Nancy
connected to a nearby internet camera and watched Sarah check her hair,
touch up her makeup, and enter the club.  It had an interesting set of
rules that served as effective filters for the clientele.  Only female
submissives and male dominants could join.  The dominants donned masks
before entering, the submissives were never masked and the submissives
selected the dominants, never the other way around.  Nancy watched some
more erotica until she was alerted that Sarah had deactivated her car
alarm and watched her smiling boss get in and resume her drive home. 
She turned off the monitor and returned the den to the state she found
it when she saw Sarah was close.

Nancy went to the kitchen to open the
ovens as they finished their cycles and took a seat in the kitchen. 
Something else that was odd, the seat at the head of the table was
taller and older than the others.  Not plush or padded, just taller,
with intricate woodwork.  She chose that one to sit in and greet her
hostess, legs crossed and heels propped on the table.

When Sarah arrived home, she noticed
the filthy, small, champagne Honda parked in the driveway, blocking the
right side of the garage where she always parks.  "That damn little
bitch!  She even fucks up parking in my driveway.  It isn’t even
seven and they are here.  Shit, this idiot is going to be impossible." 
Instead of entering her usual way through the garage, she had to use the
front door.  Edward must have been busy with the guests, as he did not
come out to carry her purse and gym bag.

"Edward, your lovely wife is coming
in.  You stay quiet as a mouse up there while the Women discuss things. 
Understand?  I trust you have everything ready as I instructed, or
someone will regret it and know it is your fault."  Nancy discreetly
checked the bedroom from the monitor in the kitchen.  The toys she
ordered Edward to setup were arranged properly and the naked Edward sat
ready for his ankles to be locked to the legs of the chair on command,
another set of police cuffs lay on the floor behind him and she turned
off the monitor.

Ed knew not to answer, but bobbed his
head ‘yes’ anyway.  A deep blush came across his naked body as he sat in
the chair, staring at the bed and he began getting an erection that he
could not suppress.  It was agonizing as soon as he heard the voice of
the Woman of the House.  Sarah grumbled as she entered the foyer, under
her breath she said "bitch" again as she shoved Nancy’s purse from her
spot on the table, and then dropped her gym bag down a hidden chute to
the laundry room for Edward to take care of later. ‘That woman always
smells like she showered in Chanel No. 5,’ Sarah thought as she followed
her nose to the kitchen.

"Well, Miss Nancy, glad to see you are
making yourself at home in my kitchen.  Is my darling husband
entertaining you and your Joe?"

"Misses Kneeler, that is not a very
welcoming tone," Nancy said without moving a muscle.  She did not even
turn her head to look at Sarah as she spoke.

"Oh yea?  You should know.  We need to
get a few ground rules straight that apply everywhere.  In my
house and especially in my office.  Where is Ed?"

‘Quite a departure from her little miss
sunshine manner at the office.  Let’s see which Miss Sarah is real,’
Nancy thought.  "I sent him upstairs to take care of a few things," she
said as she slowly lowered her short but shapely legs to the bottom rung
of the chair, then to the floor.  She walked to Sarah with a fierce look
in her eyes, "and, yes, we do need to get a few things straight.”

"Nancy, this was a bad idea.  We need
to just continue this in the office on Monday with a formal counseling,"
Sarah said as she looked away from Nancy.

"That is Misses Clarke, Misses
Kneeler.  You are to call me Misses Clarke from now on and you
will never let anybody at the office call you anything but Misses
Kneeler from now on."

Sarah was poised to lash out at Nancy,
but the last bit made some sense.  It was the first intelligent thing
she had heard from the woman in over ten years.

"You are what, forty years old now and
still just a manager?  The only PhD in the corporation who is not an
executive?"

Sarah was surprised at Nancy actually
getting close to her age, instead of a much younger guess.  "Forty-two
and my turn will come.  You are what, seventy and still a secretary?"

As she spoke, Nancy walked slowly
behind Sarah, looked up and down as if she was admiring the expensively
outfit.  At 5′ 9" atop 5" heels, Sarah towered over Nancy and did not
flinch as Nancy touched the single strand of pearls at the back of her
neck.

"These are lovely.  A gift from your
boy?"

"No touching. He is my husband
and they belonged to my great grandmother in Germany.  They go to the
eldest woman of each generation and my daughter will have them when she
bears a child."

"How quaint, generations and
generations of privilege!"  Nancy’s voice dripped with envy as she
slipped her finger under the strand and twisted her hand, pulling them
tight.  "Now, behave and listen."

"Hey!  Let go, they are delicate!" 
Sarah tried to swing behind her at Nancy, but Nancy just twisted them
tighter.  "Edward, come to the kitchen!" Sarah cried out.

In the bedroom, Ed heard the women
through the intercom and wanted to turn on a monitor to see, but he knew
that they would not respond to his voice.  Instead of getting up, he
cowered.  ‘My wife, the love of my life, and I cannot help her.  I
should be protecting her . . . ‘ his confused thoughts emasculated him
even more.  Those were the thoughts he played in his head when she let
him hear her with others, usually while locked in his room.  After years
of trying to please The Woman of the House, years of hearing and
watching her with other lovers, years of hearing her scream out in pain
or pleasure that was never to be interrupted, years of dressing her and
wearing what he was told, he was powerless when another assertive woman
told him what to do.

"He is staying right where he is. 
He knows what’s good for you, even if you don’t . . . yet."

"Nancy, let go of the pearls!" Sarah
coughed, choking as they pressed her throat tighter.  "Let go!  They
will break . . ."

"And if they do, you will be smashing
them into dust with those expensive pumps.  If you don’t think I can
make you do that, just try me."  Nancy eased her grip slightly, letting
her captive breathe and watched her arms relax.  "Now, get that jacket
off."

"What?"

Nancy slapped Sarah across the face and
held back just enough not to leave a mark.  "You heard me, now do it!"

Sarah unbuckled the belt from the back
and let it fall to the floor with a thud.  Just as Nancy thought, it was
well tooled, supple, and expensive.  She slowly unbuttoned the jacket
with trembling hands and slipped it off, letting it fall behind her to
reveal the black silk blouse beneath it.  This ‘little old woman’ was
skilled and surprisingly strong.  If she fought, the family pearls would
be no more. Sarah wondered why she was submitting so readily.  Had she
been drugged?  She wondered again, why didn’t Edward come down?  What
has Nancy done to him?  He must be bound and gagged, or worse.  Was
Nancy as crazy as most at work thought?  In a flash, feelings of concern
for Ed came over her, feelings she could not remember when she had
last.  She was lost in her thoughts as Nancy pulled Sarah’s silk top out
of her skirt, over her head, down her arms and began to tie her wrists
with it.  A rush flowed through Sarah; the involuntary mini-orgasm gave
her the clue she needed as to ‘why.’  Her own endorphin release was the
drug.

Nancy noticed the early stages of
arousal in Sarah much earlier and had spotted her as a submissive long
ago.  She could not help but fondle the perfect milky skin of Sarah’s
toned arms and firm breasts.  Sarah struggled and protested at every
touch that only resulted in more taunting touches.  With her sheer black
lace bra exposed and wrists bound behind her, Sarah looked like a
glam-bondage movie star.  Nancy watched Sarah’s feet as she pushed and
pulled her around.  Her new boss almost pranced like a walking horse.

"See?  I knew you were into it.  More
responsive than I imagined.  You have permission to cum for me, but
nobody else, got it?"

"Nancy . . ." Sarah said and stopped,
just as Nancy slapped her other cheek and she corrected.  "Misses
Clarke, what is going on?  What do you want?  This is kidnapping and
rape now . . ."

"Oh bullshit.  You do more than this on
lunch breaks in the kink club down the street from the office that’s
supposed to be some big secret.  I can even see fresh bruises on your
back.”  Nancy pressed her thumb into one and Sarah moaned instead of
yelping.  “If you were doing this in the board room instead of here and
private club rooms, you would be a real boss now," Nancy said as she
jerked the pearl encrusted pins from Sarah’s bun and let her hair fall
as a ponytail down her back.

"What on earth do you mean?  I am not
going to be your kinky fantasy.  You are my secretary that is all." 
After speaking, Nancy’s words caught up with Sarah after her outburst. 
How could Nancy know about her once-per-week lunch encounters?  Sarah
went to great lengths to keep them private.

"Stop treating me like a fool and
inferior!  I can barely smell a thing but I can smell your wetness right
now.”  Sarah knew that must be right, her sheer lace panties were
already soaked.  “You need to learn a few things and I am here to teach
you.  I can see you are getting into it, just let go and it will be
easier.  I already have enough on you to make you, your husband, and
daughter very sorry if you don’t behave.  You wouldn’t want the word to
get out and still go through your initiation, would you?  I will
be an executive secretary again, for the CEO, with or without you!"

Her objective was to get promoted? 
That could not be it.  Nobody could be that crazy.  Sarah tried to keep
her voice calm.  She suspected this was not an empty threat and Nancy
had to have used something on Edward to keep him upstairs, but
she did not know what.  Nancy was already using her own body against
her; the waves of arousal were growing more intense, more frequent.  She
tried to do her best impression of the hostage negotiators she had seen
in the movies.  "Nan . . . Misses Clarke, he wanted to fire you.  I put
in a good word for you and he made you the move team manager . . . this
isn’t play . . . it is rape.  I do not consent . . ."  Sarah was rapidly
losing her ability to reason.

Nancy did not let Sarah finish. 
"Listen you educated idiot, I was not talking about working for him, I
was talking about working for you or whomever replaces you if you
don’t behave," she said as she fed Sarah’s ponytail under her bound
hands and yanked it up, forcing Sarah to moan again and bend at the
waist.  "And for your fucking information, I am only sixty.  I taught a
few of your Dominants too."  Sarah thought, ‘That was it?  That’s
nothing today, no big deal like the 1950s or anything.  D/s play is
pretty common now.  It is no longer a defense for kidnappers and rapists
preying on people who were into it either.’  Nancy walked them both back
to the ‘throne’ at the kitchen table.  “Step higher, Misses Kneeler!” 
Sarah followed the command without thinking, bringing her knees higher
for each short step.  With one hand, Nancy hiked her skirt up to her
hips while keeping a tight grip on Sarah’s hair with the other.

"Nancy, please, I do not want to . . ."

Nancy yanked Sarah’s face into her
crotch and then wrapped her legs around Sarah’s head, squeezing tight,
smothering her.  "Misses Clarke, get it right.  I know that taste
and smell is familiar to you, maybe not his specifically.  You said
‘please’ and applied it wrong.  Please me and I will piss in a
porcelain toilet instead of your mouth."

Sarah wondered why Nancy mentioned the
taste and smell, and the threat sent another wave through her.  She
could taste and smell the cum of some random man on her and was not
surprised at all.  Rumor at work had it that Nancy played behind any
locked door with anybody who would have her.  Already emotionally
drained and feeling another orgasmic wave building right behind the
last, Sarah resigned herself at that point to cooperate and hoped that
she and Ed would come through this intact, able to report the invasion
to the authorities and be rid of ‘Misses Clarke’ for good.

"Just as I thought.  You don’t even
recognize the cum of your own husband.  He is a good fuck, even as out
of practice as you let him get.  I think it is a waste, but he is your
boy.  Hum, maybe I should add a lesson on how to care for your own
property, since you have gotten so lazy about it with him taking care of
everything around here.  Taking care of everything but you it
seems.  Don’t you think that is a good idea?"  Nancy jerked Sarah’s head
up and down as she loosened the grip of her legs and Sarah licked. 
"First right answer so far.  Now, give me a good orgasm so we can get
upstairs and see your boy."  She lit a cigarette and flicked the ashes
on the fine Italian tile floor.

Sarah’s mind raced, ‘Of all the trash
for him to get off with, he had to pick her?  No way she picked him.  He
was a charmer back-in-the-day, not the way he is now.  Did she get the
idea that I was willing just because he was?’  Sarah relaxed and shooed
the thoughts of her husband fucking this woman out of her head to
concentrate on licking up and down between her lips and then she quickly
licked the swollen clit.  Nancy’s squirming and moaning gave Sarah hope
that this might be over soon.  Listening upstairs, Ed could not help a
spontaneous orgasm that left a small rope of semen on his tummy.

    4. Let’s Work Up An Appetite

With a firm grip on Sarah’s ponytail,
still under her tied wrists, Nancy walked her from the kitchen to the
stairs and up to the hallway.  “Prance higher, Misses Kneeler,” Nancy
taunted.  She dismissed the idea of making Sarah crawl, Edward needed to
keep seeing Sarah as his Domme and Nancy as her superior.  As
they passed Suzanne’s room, Nancy whispered in a harsh voice, “You order
him to obey me as soon as you see him, give him the usual proper praise
for entertaining and pleasing me too.  Understand?”  They turned and
entered the master bedroom.

When Sarah hesitated with her command
as they entered, Nancy called out "ten" and Ed echoed it.  Neither
Edward nor Sarah knew at that moment exactly what the count represented,
but they both knew it was associated with a punishment.  It was a common
a method in the Domination/submission community.  “Oh, look Misses
Kneeler, your husband has a little mess on his tummy.  Someone needs to
clean it up, ain’t gonna be me,” she said with a laugh as she pulled
Sarah’s hair and forced her to her knees next to Edward.

Sarah looked up at Edward with
apologetic eyes before touching him.  Then she announced, “Pet, you are
to obey everything Misses Clarke commands as if it were me.  She reports
that you were a very good boy when you entertained her while awaiting my
arrival.”

Edward suppressed his reflexive
reaction of glee to her praise of his host performance.  He responded,
“Yes, Woman of the House, thank you so much for allowing me to please
you.”

Then, Sarah obediently began licking
and cleaning her husband’s tummy, all the way down to his flaccid cock. 
Edward could not believe she was actually touching him in that way.  It
was like a dream to him, he thought that all of his obedience was
finally being rewarded as she had promised for years.  Today was the
“someday” that he had been waiting for, the day he gets to play as a
couple.  As soon as she took his head in her mouth, what little
ejaculate he had left shot to the back of her throat.  He wanted to be
hard for her, to please her like her other lovers did, but his excited
nervousness spoiled his moment to shine.

Sarah could smell and taste Nancy on
him; it confirmed what Nancy had already told her.  She could tell he
was excited, but Nancy had drained him nearly dry.  He was so animated,
even while sitting obediently in the chair.  ‘Those cuffs are dangling
free, his ankles are not even restrained!  What could she be
blackmailing him with?  Was it just the sex?’ she thought.  It was the
first time in years that she had done anything sexual with him and he
was still soft.  Sarah began to feel regret for the way she had treated
her husband over the years.  If only she had done things different,
maybe they would not be in this situation.  That was a crazy thought;
nothing she had done to him brought this on.  Still, she was the one who
invited Nancy over and told him to “entertain” her.  Of all the women
she had over, why did it have to be Nancy who picked him?  The
occasional man she could understand.  Nancy was a puzzle in yet another
way.

“Eddie, pet, be a dear and take off the
skirt of the Woman of the House?”  Hearing the private title of his
Mistress took him by brief surprise.  How would she know that?  Then he
remembered calling her that in Nancy’s presence several times, even
though he should not have before being told by Sarah that she was a
playmate.  He unzipped the skirt and gently slipped it to the floor as
she stepped out of it.  He could see what he already knew, traces of
dried cum on her perfect skin and more on her stocking tops.  It was
Friday, one of her “date nights.”  He wanted to touch her, but did not
have permission from either for that yet, so he behaved as trained, arms
at his sides.

“Eddie, be a dear again and undress me
too?”  He unbuttoned Nancy’s cuffs, and then the front, as he got hard
again in the mouth of his Mistress.  Sarah noticed and could not believe
that this ‘shriveled old woman’ was arousing him more than she was
herself.  Nancy had the feeling that she already gained an advantage
over Sarah for Edward and she ordered Edward to undo the front clasp of
her satin bra brought a perfect, firm C-cup breast to his lips to prove
it.  Perfect, with the help of the best cosmetic surgeon in the area. 
Nancy ordered Sarah to “eat my pussy like the pro you are” while she fed
Edward an erect nipple.  In short order, Nancy had a huge orgasm and
Sarah could tell Edward helped.  Edward came with her and was rewarded
with a kiss from Nancy and another cleaning from Sarah, who wondered,
‘Is this woman stealing my life as well as my husband?  What could she
be up to beyond a kinky night of rape and possible slavery play?  That
story about new jobs had to be a distraction.’

“You two are beginning to learn,” Nancy
purred.  “Misses Kneeler, time to get on the bed, face down,” Nancy
announced in a singsong voice.

Sarah left her husband, got up and
walked to the edge of the bed, teetering slightly already feeling weary
from the experience.  In play, this would not even count as a warm-up. 
This was real.  Her wrists still bound in black silk, she was barely
able to get a knee up on the tall bed to climb on.  She crawled on her
knees to the center and fell over face first.  As soon as she fell,
Edward removed her panties, spread her legs, and secured her ankles in
the locking leather cuffs, each attached to the foot-post anchors by
strong chain that he prepared from Nancy’s earlier order.

Nancy petted Sarah.  “Relax, baby, we
need to put these someplace safe,” she said as she opened the clasp to
Sarah’s pearls.

Sarah cried, “Please, please don’t.” 
Her face sunk into the bed as she sobbed.

Nancy placed them on nightstand,
continued to pet and stroke Sarah and said, “Just relax, I am being
careful with them, that’s all.  Nothing will happen to them if you
behave, I promise.  Stop crying and start pleasing.”  She made a cell
call and told someone, “Whenever you are ready, second floor.”

From his earlier instruction from
Nancy, Edward leaned forward and began licking Sarah’s sheer nude
thigh-high stockings clean.  He worked his way up to her ass and bare
pussy.  In times past, this was merely a ritual Sarah wanted from him,
but this time it was a connection to her husband.  One of the fleeting
connections to freedom that she had left with him.  It gave her a mini
orgasm and she hoped that he noticed as she moaned.  He heard it and was
shocked; she had not done that from his touch in years.  Nancy heard it
too.

“Misses Kneeler, you did not ask
permission.”

The announcement only made Sarah
wetter, which, in turn, encouraged Edward more.  Was he always this good
with his mouth?  Sarah felt another building.  “Misses Clarke, may I?”

“Ten,” Nancy announced and Ed echoed,
“Twenty” as he licked and sucked, Sarah’s hips rocked.

“Please, Misses Clarke, please?”

“Yes, you may cum for Edward.”  Sarah
erupted into a long moan as soon as she heard “yes.”  She did not need
any encouragement to lick Nancy as her secretary sat on the bed in front
of her, jerked her head up by the hair, slid under Sarah’s face, and put
on a sensual leg and heel show for Edward behind Sarah’s back, rubbing
them down to Sarah’s ass.  The combination of being allowed to lick his
wife and seeing Nancy’s sexy legs and shoes were keeping him hard beyond
his imagination and he had no hope of holding back an orgasm if his body
caught back up.

At the edge of another orgasm, Nancy
jerked Sarah’s head from her crotch.  “Sir Joe, welcome to the Kneeler
home!”  Nancy greeted her husband and got off the bed.  Joe was a
massive man, over 6′ 4” tall, black wavy hair, dark olive skin and huge
hands.  He was like a human mountain as he entered the bedroom wearing a
long black leather duster, red and black checkered flannel shirt,
overalls, and cowboy boots.  To Sarah, he looked like a farmer going to
Church, a hot farmer, but a common worker nonetheless.  Ed noted the
shirt looked custom, the boots hand-tooled.  Joe took off his cowboy
hat, placed it crown down on the nightstand, and laid his big cigar in
the polished brass incense tray, the first thing to smolder in it,
ever.  Nancy took his coat as Joe patted her ass and took a deep kiss
from her, and then hung the duster in the walk-in closet over one of
Sarah’s suits as Joe had Ed undress him and orally "fluff" him to full
erection.  The personalized label in the shirt and overalls confirmed
for Ed that they were tailor-made.  Joe was toned, cut and as soon as he
was hard, he appeared to have powerful muscles everywhere.  Nancy
returned during the fluffing and whispered to Sarah to beg Joe to fuck
her.

“Sir Joe, will you please fuck me?”
Sarah said in a disappointingly unconvincing manner.  Her body wanted
him, she was very wet again, but her mind just wanted it to be over.  As
soon as she finished speaking, Nancy shoved a huge red ballgag in
Sarah’s mouth, secured the attached black leather head harness and
built-in blindfold, and then left her side.  Her eyes began to water,
her jaw fully extended.

Nancy mounted Ed’s lap and debated
giving him a pill from Joe’s overalls, but he was hard again on his
own.  “Yea baby, a good live cock is better than a dildo any day!”

Sarah screamed into the gag as Joe
plunged into her.  It felt like he was ripping her ass open.  No prep,
no lube, nothing but his huge rock-hard cock and a bit of Ed’s saliva,
attacking her toned, firm ass.  She screamed “red” as if a safeword
would stop anything, it made Joe laugh.  He lifted her bound arms and
sent pain through her shoulders, she screamed again and he laughed,
thrusting harder.  Joe was an ass man.  The first thing that attracted
him to Nancy was her perfect ass, something she still had at sixty years
old.  Her face was not bad when they met, but the tanning salons and
summers in the sun had taken their toll.  Sarah’s ass was already a new
favorite.

By the time Joe filled Sarah’s bowels
with his hot cum, Sarah was reduced to an exhausted kitten without even
a purr.  She was satisfied against her will.

“Sir Joe, looks like your little bitch
in heat can’t keep up,” Nancy said as she looked over her shoulder, then
turned back to moan into Edward’s mouth.  Nancy continued to ride Ed
until he subsided, squeezed his cock inside her in a way he never felt
before, and then had him clean her and Joe with his mouth.&nbs

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