Chapter 8: Status
Jen knelt next to Ethan, waiting in silence while he inspected her work. This latest project had revolved around media markets in Singapore, and while Asia wasn't her expertise by training, she felt she'd risen to the task with aplomb.
Ethan hummed with satisfaction; a good sign.
She kept her gaze on the floor, picking apart the intricate patterns of the Persian rug beneath her. He often did this, reading her work in absolute silence, only to then drill her for hours with a series of pointed questions about her product. In the end, the piece was always better for it (after all, who knew his interests better than he?) but the process was grueling, for it combined her fear of displeasing him with memories of the University's dissertation board.
At last he pushed his chair back.
"Come sit in my lap, pet."
Sit in his lap? He never asked for that. Usually he walked about the room while she sat at the desk and took notes about his comments and questions. Jen rose to her feet, careful to keep her gaze lowered, and turned to him.
He was dressed, unlike most days, in a silk robe of dark green, nothing more. She could see the tanned expanse of his broad chest beneath it, and permitted herself a fleeting glance to his groin.
Nothing. Not even the faintest stirring from that lovely cock of his. He must be serious today.
Fear spiked into her brain – was her product that bad?
She trembled at the thought of it as she climbed into his lap. He pulled her close, letting her sit back against him, her nude body reclining slightly. One strong hand held her around the waist, while the other played idly with her curls.
"Pet..." he began, but she interrupted him, her training to be silent broken by the fear of having failed him so badly.
Had it only been five months and she felt so driven to please?
"Sir, I am so sorry. I know this isn't my best work. But if you will only give me more time I am sure that I can –"
A sharp pinch on her right nipple brought her rambling apology to a halt.
"Did you just speak without permission, Slave?"
She nodded tearfully, trembling. No more use of the nickname 'Pet', she was back to being called Slave. Jen sighed; it was no more than she deserved.
"Well, that is something we will table for another day. You haven't been here that long, so I will forgive your impertinence for now." He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and pleasant sensations began to pulse outward.
"If you hadn't spoken out of turn, if you hadn't forgotten yourself, you would have heard me say that this project is your best work to date."
She sat up abruptly, her mouth agape.
He nodded, smiling. "Yes, you heard me, it's concise and it's very thorough. I am convinced I can sell my partners on the business expansion ideas laid out in Chapter Six."
"Your impertinence aside, you deserve a reward." He turned her in his lap so that she straddled him, and then pulled her into a passionate kiss.
He kissed her – really kissed her – and her appetites came roaring to the fore, demanding satisfaction.
Her pussy was suddenly alive with the electricity of that kiss.
Of all the things he did to her, all the instruments of pleasure and pain he used on her body and her mind, none got her in the mood as readily or as completely as his kisses. There was just something about the feel of his lips on hers that drove her wild.
He knew this of course.
As best she could recall, she'd told him this when they'd been lovers in college all those years before. How he remembered, she wasn't sure, but he obviously did, because it was a button he rarely pushed.
She moaned into their kiss, writhing in his grip. He held her to him, his body a wonderful combination of hard muscle and smooth silk. Her nipples grew painfully hard as they mashed against him, tortured by the fabric of his robe.
Jen could feel him growing hard; felt his thick cock engorging into the space between her legs. As yet there was still a layer of silk between them, but she could feel him throbbing his way up and against her.
His hands seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once, roaming the length and breadth of her back, tangling themselves in her curls, sliding across her breastbone up onto her neck, touching her face...everywhere and nowhere. Her skin burned from his touch and her breathing became ragged.
At last she pulled away, gasping for air, her full breasts heaving with desire. "Please, Master," she panted, "I need you to fuck me."
"You do, eh?"
"Yes, Sir, I need you, I need you inside me. I need your cock inside me." She ground her hips against him wantonly, and noted with some satisfaction that he shivered as she moved the silk against his shaft. Sometimes he forgot that she was more than a plaything to be trained, that she was a formidable lover in her own right, possessed of skills that had driven many a many wild in her day.
That she'd come to be here, come to be his whore, simply meant that all of those skills were now entirely at his disposal.
Ethan reached beneath them and pulled his robe to either side. Freed, his turgid cock pushed up and into her pussy, not entering her, but rather nestling amidst her folds. She could feel the heat of him, feel him grow slick from her wetness as she began to move her hips back and forth, teasing him with the promise of her most intimate grip.
He kissed her breasts, suckling her throbbing nipples whilst his hands pinned her arms behind her.
Jen mewed loudly, so utterly happy with her world at that moment. All she wanted she had right then, and her body was singing out its hunger in great shudders, building its excitement as she moved against him.
"Please," she moaned into his ear, pulling herself tight against him.
He obliged, pushing up into her, filling her every curve and whorl with his hard member. She bucked against him, held tight in his encircled arms. The fugue was coming, that moment when she'd lose all sense of reason and surrender entirely to her appetites.
Ethan let her lift her hips up to piston against her, let her fuck him with her body, driving herself further and further into a frenzy – only to stop her with a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Wait. Before we proceed, I haven't told you what your reward is it."
"Uhh...mmmm...I thought...I thought this was my reward?" She was feverish with desire, and had trouble focusing on him.
He laughed. "No, Jen, this is for me. Your reward is something else altogether."
Jen, he'd called her Jen, said a faint voice at the back of her mind, shouting to be heard through the roaring of her pussy's cravings.
He never called her Jen. She could count on one hand the number of times he'd called her by her first name in the past five months.
"Whah...what is it?" She could taste the salt of his skin as she buried her face in his chest. Her pussy throbbed, gripping his shaft as it pulsed out her need. He smiled, accustomed by now to this sort of reaction.
"Your reward is that you may ask me one question of your choosing and I will answer it truthfully. No pretense of master or slave, just you and I, two lovers with no secrets. One question, about anything you desire."
And like that the rising fugue was gone, blown away by his offer like smoke before a strong wind. Normally she would have craved the physical release – and indeed her body was still wracked with a very real hunger for it – but in this instance her mind's addiction to information trumped all else.
She grew still against him and sat upright, suddenly very calm.
"Wait. Anything?"
He laughed. "I thought that might get your attention."
She giggled and kissed his forehead.
"Well, it does. I mean, anything?"
He cupped her face with one hand and locked his gaze onto hers. "Yes, anything. Now, what is your question?"
It surprised her that she didn't need to think about it. No sooner had he asked, than the words were coming out of her mouth.
"Tell me why Kami doesn't have to wear a collar, but never wears clothes. Tell me why you two make love but I've never seen you flog her? Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she a slave like me or something more?"
He laughed as he playfully tweaked her nipples. "That's not one question, and you know that."
She giggled again. "Yes, I suppose it's not. Sorry. But you know what I am driving at. I want to know about her and how she relates to you ... me ... us."
Jen grew silent at this last part, unsure how it would be received. Ethan also grew still, which made her worry. Had she overstepped her bounds? Was Kami some great love of his and she'd just insulted that?
"What, Sir? What's wrong? What did I say?"
He looked up at her again and smiled. "Nothing. Your question is a good one. It's just not the question I expected you to ask."
His cock pulsed within her, reminding her that she sat atop him, the very acme of a wanton slut seeking release. Her curls were wildly askew and her body glowed with a sheen of sweat.
"Really? What question did you expect me to ask?"
"Well, I thought you would have asked how I found you."
And suddenly, there it was. He was right – that would have been the better question, one that spoke to their relationship, and one that would have offered greater insight into their relationship.
Instead, she realized, she'd asked a question that was appropriate to her station; a question that only a second-tier slutslave would ask about her first-tier rival.
Why had she asked that question?
There were so many things about him that she wondered about on a daily basis – not least of which how her college lover had come into such money and standing that he kept two women as bound concubines in a vast, seemingly anonymous estate in the country.
Or how a man she hadn't seen for eight years had come to buy her at an underground auction. How without any real contact he'd found her and made her his own. Or even why he'd done that, why if he had access to all those women he hadn't purchased another. Had it been simple chance or design?
And yet, she hadn't asked those questions.
She'd asked about Kami; she'd asked to know more about the woman who took such cruel pleasure in flogging her to orgasm, in forcing her to submit. Her question laid bare her own feelings towards Kami – jealousy; envy; desire.
What did that say about her, she wondered. Was the Jen of five months ago so totally gone? Did she only care about this world now? Did that mean she'd embraced her new life as a slutslave some completely?
Yes, she realized, it did.
Somehow knowing everything about her rival, mistress, and tormenter meant more to her. Somehow she just had to know who this woman was that made love to her Master while she herself had to make do with the whip.
