I am feeling more reassured. "So, what happens now?""Francis will take you to HR. They'll take you through the usual formalities, and then we'll put you through the usual intern routine. You will spend time in every department of the company: finance, procurement, marketing, everything. You will see the whole machine, and we can find out how much you already know and see where you can fit in best."He leans back in his seat, holding me with his eyes. "Now, about your other duties—when you finish here for the day, you will go home and put on the clothes you will find waiting for you. Wear your hair up, as you have it now. I expect to see you in my suite at eight o'clock. Any questions?""Um, I'm not sure what to call you."He laughs. "Here, I am Mr Haswell. When I take you out to dinner, I am Richard. In my apartment, you will call me Master. Understood?""Yes, Mr Haswell.""Finish your coffee." He buzzes the intercom again. "Francis, can you take Elizabeth to HR please?"

It is difficult to move at all, and as I try to obey, I totter, all my weight on my wrists for a moment. From his kneeling position, my Master forces my ankles farther apart, and farther, until I can barely stand at all, my wrists taking the strain. He unwraps my legs from the folds of the skirt, tucking the fabric behind me."That's better," he says. "Now we have you properly presented."Standing back, he starts to strip, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes his shirt. I am entranced by his tight, lean muscled body, by the dark line of hair leading from his navel to his belt and below. Broad-shouldered and tight waisted, I want nothing more than for him to fuck me stupid. His black jeans, previously a perfect fit, are straining at the front, and as he unbelts and unzips, his manhood stands upright against him, firm against his flat stomach. I watch, hypnotised by his beautiful physique, staring at his erection.He follows my stare and grins. "Like what you see, Elizabeth? D

His breathing is patchy, and looking up, I see him looking back down at me, watching as his cock slides in and out of my mouth. With my lips, I give him as tight of a grip as I can, and with my hands, I feel his tension build. His balls tighten and harden, his musky scent growing stronger as his flow increases. I taste his essence filling my mouth, and then, with a groan, he grabs my head firmly, pinning me and thrusting hard into my mouth. My hands prevent him from filling my throat, but as he spurts I gag, his cum hitting the back of my throat. His pelvis flexes and bucks as he shoots into me and cum dribbles from my lips, dripping onto my breasts.As he relaxes, he pulls my head back, withdrawing from me a little and turning my face upwards. "Don't even think about spitting," he says, his eyes intense as he watches me lick my lips clean and swallow his cream. He reaches down, and with one finger, he wipes the cum from my breasts and holds his finger to my mouth. "Finish it." And I

Later that evening, I am sure he does have a raging hard-on. While I can't see it, I can feel it pressing against my thighs as he leans into me."What do you want, Elizabeth? This won't go any further until you ask me for it."I hear a buzz, then feel a sharp pain in one nipple, then the other, as he clamps vibes to my small, firm buttons. This is too much, and I struggle against the chains, trying to escape the electric arousal spiking through me. My pussy gushes and I moan, trying to thrash both against and into the sensation."What do you want, Elizabeth? Tell me. You have to tell me.""I want... I want...""Yes?" "Oh, God! I want you inside me. Please. I want you inside me.""That's better. And then?"I am half-crazy with lust. I can barely think straight. "I want you to fuck me. Please, just fuck me.""That's good, Elizabeth. And how do you want to be fucked?"I am not sure how to answer and hesitate, my panting growing ragged."How do you want to be fuck

I know of Courtney's. It is well-known as a hangout for celebrities, from rock stars to politicians, actors to newspaper tycoons—public faces who value a bit of privacy from time to time. It also has a reputation for being stupendously expensive.My Master leaves me, like a kid in a candy store, investigating the wardrobe, working my way through beautiful fabrics, expensive designer labels and gorgeous fuck me dresses.All the clothes are beautiful, stylish, and well-chosen, with a good mix of themes and styles, but as I work my way through them, it dawns on me what the common themes are. Firstly, they are all just my size—how does he do that? And secondly, every one of them, in some way, is easy access. The lovely garments might be demure on the surface, but every one of them has some form of flap, wrap, slit, lace, or button that would allow an experienced hand an easy way in.I pick out a cocktail dress with a tightly fitted bodice, but a loose, flaring skirt. The filmy fabric