Ethan straightened his tie, and took one last look in the mirror. Jen watched him from the bed, where she lay on her stomach, a wisp of white sheet covering her bottom.
She was spent. It was all she could do to stay awake and watch him get dressed for his meetings.
Yesterday, after she'd awoken in their hotel room, her body aching and her mind reeling from three days of training. Before she was even fully awake, Ethan had taken her. Pulling her to him, he'd ravished her until she wept.
After she'd made appropriate homage to him, of course. After a fierce kiss, he'd pointed at the floor. Dutifully, she'd knelt before him. With her own hunger rising at the sight of his naked body, she leaned forward and sought his forgiveness in the only way she knew how. Fortunately for her, she was quite a talented fellatrix. She loved sucking cock; she'd always loved sucking cock. That his cock caused such frenzy in her only made it easier to service him. By the time he came, filling her mouth with his hot seed, her pussy ached and she was purring with her own pleasure.
Then, with the taste of him on her lips, she'd been taken into his arms and carried into the suite's bathroom. He bathed her himself, placing her in a large tub, running his hands all over her body as he washed away the leavings of her ordeal. She'd forgotten how gentle he could be, and her body had thrilled to his touch as his fingers worked out the strains and kinks of her restraint, kneading life back into her form even as he soaped her ample curves and washed her hair.
In the end, as his eyes met hers and his lips lightly touched hers, she'd orgasmed suddenly, inadvertently, giving herself to the heat that had grown within her.
Expecting reprimand for this breach of etiquette, she giggled when he simply smiled at her. Ethan had reached for her, pulling her to him in the steamy warmth of the tub. His strong hands had reached under her, lifting her up and onto his turgid shaft before lowering her fluttering body back down gently. Confronted by the roar of pleasure as his cock filled her, Jen did the only thing she could do: She wrapped her legs around him and gave herself to him.
And that had been the start of it. From there the day had slipped into a long sequence of passionate lovemaking broken by bouts of sleep. Well into the early hours of this morning he would wake her with a touch and then have his way with her. There was no pleasurepain in any of these sessions, simply a terrible need in him to quench himself in her.
Again and again Ethan would drive into her, mounting her in a simple missionary fashion while she writhed and moaned beneath the welcome crush of his muscled form. Even as she moved in time with him, willing herself to hold off her own release so she could cum with him, her mind marveled at the intensity of his lovemaking.
She'd known that she'd almost been lost to him; but his passion for her made her suspect that her betrayal hurt him more than she realized.
Her heart ached with this knowledge, even as her body sang with the delights of their union. She vowed then and there to rededicate herself to him, to abandon whatever conceits she might have and become his. Kami remained a problem of course, since she wanted Ethan all to herself, but Jen knew that the raw, sexual hunger that had so confounded her was purged from her.
Her time in that dark room had made her realize what she really wanted. Made her understand that what she'd embarked on, while titillating, was not a game; it was a conscious choice to live her life in service to another, and by doing so, realize her own happiness.
And his cock, oh his magnificent cock, buried within her wet, throbbing pussy, plunging into that perfect connection time and again. It was almost too much, the very act of his thrusts creating a dangerous hunger for him.
As much as she wanted to serve, she realized, she wanted that feeling of his cock inside her. Worse, she realized, she needed that feeling.
With this combination -- her enlightened embrace of submission and her physical hunger for him -- Jen's fate was sealed.
Suddenly, it became effortless to give herself to him utterly, to embrace the little death he summoned in her again and again with no thought to what she wanted. To be pinned to the expanse of their bed by the steely length of his shaft, her breasts afire as her newly pierced nipples sent waves of pleasure through her with every move of his chest against her, staving off her own pleasure solely that she might offer him more.
Having evolved beyond her own girlish fantasies into true submission, how could she do otherwise?
Finally, in the very, very early hours of the morning, he'd cried out, his body shuddering against hers in one long, climatic event, and then he'd collapsed atop her. She came as well, then, summoning up the last vestiges of desire from her spent frame, reserves of crackling sexual energy she barely knew she had. Her fine hands had clawed at his broad shoulders as she bucked and writhed against her, and he'd laughed out loud at the sight of her gasping mouth and fluttering eyes. The purity of that final orgasm extinguished her, and left her prostrate beneath him, nearly catatonic from the experience.
Whatever demons he'd needed to purge were clearly gone, and Ethan's steady, satisfied breathing soon dragged her down into sleep, her cheeks wet with tears of joyful release.
And so now, hours later, she lay on the bed, still an utter wreck, marveling at how he seemed fresh and chipper. He looked like he'd slept for the last twelve hours, rather than playing her body like a fine instrument. She looked positively rumpled.
Ethan nodded to himself, satisfied with his appearance, and turned. He was dressed in a dark charcoal suit that sported a fine pinstripe, and the deep red of his tie went well with his crisp white shirt.
The outfit reminded her of Starke for some reason, but she said nothing.
Better to put the past, in the past.
He strode to the bed and sat down next to her, and then leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
Jen rolled over, the better to lavish him with all the joys she possessed; his now in their entirety. She noted with satisfaction that his eyes roamed over her lush form, taking in the beauty of her full breasts, her flat stomach, the subtle play of her collarbone, the simple art of her nude mons pubis...
Ethan placed his hand on her stomach, his warm touch stirring her faintly. "I have to go. I'm meeting new clients at two, and it's already one fifteen."
"Yes, Sir. What shall I do while you're gone?"
Ethan smiled that smile that told her she would be testing her own boundaries today, and not lolling about in bed watching daytime television.
"There is a note in the next room. Follow its instructions to the letter. I will see you at four. Don't be late."
He smiled again and then kissed her lightly on the lips, before standing and walked to the door. With a wink, he was gone, leaving the door fully ajar, the better to teach her that her nudity was something public.
Jen stood and then padded over to the door. Beyond it lay the hallways of the Driskill. She looked out into the hallway, sensing the presence of the cleaning staff and the patrons, knowing that any one of them could see her at any minute, and forced herself to take a deep breath and count to thirty.
As she was about to shut the door, a couple walked by. They saw her in the doorway: A beautiful blonde, utterly nude, utterly disheveled, and sporting a self assured look on her face that spoke off recent passion. Jen could only imagine how the smell of sex must have been coming off her in waves, and she was suddenly aware of the taste of Ethan on her lips, and the fact that her mouth ached from her devotions.
And yet strangely enough, as the couple stopped and looked at her, she saw none of the shock or revulsion she expected.
Rather, they seemed to be comfortable with her presence, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to see in this hotel. Jen wondered at that, but gave it little thought as she gazed out on the two of them.
They were young, early thirties at best, and handsome in a manner suggesting both affluence and good breeding. The woman wore a narrow black skirt with floral embroidery and a white top that showed her bra beneath; she was pretty but not beautiful, with blonde hair pulled down in two short braids. Her body was fit, but lacked the ample curves Jen enjoyed. Her blue eyes seemed to fixate on Jen's ample breasts.
After a moment, Jen realized that the woman was looking at the platinum rings that now adorned her nipples, and smiled, pleased that her new gifts from Master Ethan were appealing to others.
The woman's companion, a tall, thin man dressed in jeans and a dress shirt, leaned in and whispered something into his companion's ear. A pleasant giggle was his response and then she darted forward to kiss Jen on the lips.
"You're very lucky," was all she said, "He must be very special."
"He is," Jen whispered, holding her close for a moment, "I am honored to serve him." The woman's perfume was thick in the air about her.
And then her companion was pulling her away, off down the hall.
Jen stood in the doorway, watching them go, marking their room number before stepping back in, and closing the heavy door. There were no wedding rings that she could see. Were they meeting for some tryst of their own?
She knew they would both be thinking of her as they made love, and that made her pussy throb ever so slightly. Ethan would be pleased.
On the table in the sitting room that adjoined the bedroom were three things: A small box wrapped in soft blue tissue paper, a silver, metal briefcase, and a pair of steel handcuffs.
Jen regarded all three for a long while and then looked about for a clock. To her surprise it was already 2:30 in the afternoon. She had no idea what either the case or the box might contain, but the purpose of the cuffs was clear: Ethan wanted her restrained in some fashion upon his return.
Given that this was the first time she'd ever been outside the estate on 'normal' circumstances, she assumed that the case had nothing to do with her, and so picked up the box. It rustled faintly when she shook it, confirming her suspicion that it contained clothing for her to wear.
Not that there would be much, she thought to herself with a grin. Many of her old foibles were slipping away in the wake of her retraining, and so the thought of being so exposed didn't provoke the same doubts about her own body.
Using her fingernail, she picked open the wrapping and opened the box. Within lay a pair of black heels -- Jimmy Choo Pillows, she noted with a gasp of pleasure -- a stockings and garter set from an Italian designer she didn't recognize, and a small, folded note. She set the box on the table and took out this last item.
Pet,
Please bring the briefcase to the address below at four. I need it for a meeting this afternoon.
Put on the items in the box, and only the items in the box, and meet me. If you move quickly, you shouldn't get arrested.
