The line of her cleavage needed to be a little bolder. It didn't match the depth of the real thing. If this was going to represent
her
it needed to be perfect. She was my muse. My inspiration. Honestly, just getting a glimpse of her felt like the only reason I had to live. She had no idea who I was.
Heather Hannah, the boss's wife. Correction, the boss's soon to be
ex
-wife. That was why old man Hannah was on the warpath. No one at Patton Printing was safe from the owner's wrath. Any wrong move could cost you your job. In my case it could ruin my chances to be promoted to supervisor. Well, that and Narris. God that woman could be such a bitch. She wanted that job too and had been going out of her way to make me look bad in front of the boss.
Thankfully for me, I had my art to keep me sane. Not that most people would call it art. They would call it smut. Which, it was. It was a little comic strip I published online. No one knew about it. I would have died if they did, I thought. I couldn't stand the thought of anyone in my life seeing my drawings of myself as a spy being held prisoner by the sexy villainess Hannah Heat. Yeah, I'm not good with names.
I finished looking over the sketch I was working on, sighed, and left for work. Pulling into my usual spot outback I was surprised to find a rather elegant looking car in the spot next to it. Who did that belong to? None of us hourly stiffs I could tell you that much. As I climbed out of the car the convertible lowered its top. My heart skipped a beat. It was Ms. Hannah!
As always, she was so fucking sexy. She was older than I was, which wasn't saying much since I was like nineteen. She was somewhere in her late thirties to early forties, I think. It's rude to ask, you know. She didn't really show her age though. She just radiated a certain kind of experience. Black hair flowed over her shoulders. Strong arms and a fit body felt molded into the contours of the car seat. Her breasts... oh, her breasts! In my frankly limited experience, I would have to say they were DDs or larger. They were so full, bouncy, soft and yet somehow still very firm at the same time. In other words, they were perfect. Her round face held piercing brown eyes and a knowing smile. She pointed to the vacant passenger's seat.
"In."
There was something about the way she said it. It was a command, but not one made in anger. Nor was there any arrogance or disdain. This was the confidence of a woman who gets things done. I had no right to deny her. I slipped into the seat with all the grace of the terrified baby deer that I was.
"H...hello, Ms. Hannah."
"Please Baby, call me Miss Heat."
My blood ran cold. How could she know?
"I..."
She placed a finger over my lips, silencing me.
"There's no need to deny it. I received an interesting email last night. It had a link to your account and some scans of your work."
"Please, let me explain."
She clamped her entire palm over my mouth, holding my chin in place.
"No, no, no, I'll do the talking. Understand?"
I nodded best I could.
"I assume the person who sent it was trying to get you in trouble. Maybe even fired."
Narris!
"They just didn't count on me loving them so much."
Wait. What?
"I look so powerful in your drawings. So lively. So sensual. Is that how you really see me?"
My nod was much more emphatic that time.
"Nobody has made me feel like that in a long time. Thank you."
I tried to say 'you're welcome' but it came out all mutters.
"I'm a bit of an artist myself. I used to do some photography back in the day. That was until my husband, well
ex
husband soon enough, made me give it up. You've inspired me to give it another try. I want to remake your art as photographs. Do you consent?"
I nodded again. That would be amazing!
"Wonderful! Now here's the best part. I want
you
to play Agent Dowd."
"Me?" I mumble asked.
I hadn't drawn Enzo Dowd to be me. I'm not strapping and cool like a spy should be. I'm gangly and unkempt. The focus was always on her. Hell, Enzo always went by En in the comics so I could make a stupid endowed joke.
"I can't use anyone else. It has to be you."
"Why me?" I tried to ask again.
"I want to show you how I see you, just like you've done for me. Will you please let me do that?"
She took her hand away at last. Funny, I kinda missed it.
"O...Ok."
"Great! We'll do a quick one right now before work. A proof of concept if you will."
She gestured to the cellphone mounted on the dashboard in a little grip. I only then realized it was on and in the landscape position.
"I don't know."
"I promise, nice and quick."
She pulled a fur coat out from the backseat.
"We'll do a simple chloroform scene."
She pressed a button on the phone starting a series of quick automatic shots. She held up the coat just enough to make sure it made it on camera. She pulled a bottle of perfume from her purse and poured some out onto the coat.
"It's an old coat," she explained.
She leaned over giving me a good view of her tits. I was so distracted by their majesty I forgot what kind of scene she said we were shooting. The next thing I knew the coat was over my nose and mouth. My lungs filled with the flowery aroma of the perfume. It smelt like her. I inhaled deeply, repeatedly. It was heaven. I soon found myself getting lightheaded though. I tried to tell her, but it came out as weak mumbles. My limbs felt heavy. I couldn't push her way. My eyes slowly closed, and sleep took me.
Shit! Shit! Shit! What had she done? Heather shook the sleeping boy as hard as she could.
"Wake up!"
He just smiled dumbly and slept on. Well, he wasn't dead, that was a good sign. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She couldn't let anyone see them like this. Fuck! She couldn't let her husband see them like this! He was dragging his feet on the divorce as it was. This would give him all the leverage he needed to get exactly what he wanted. No, no, she couldn't let that happen. That brought her back to the question at hand. What the hell was she going to do?
She could just leave him in his car. It was right there. He'd wake up and just go back to work. He could tell someone what she did. Would he tell someone? Would he be safe in his car? What if he got too hot? What if someone tried to steal it? No, no, she couldn't just leave him behind. She did this to him. She had to take care of him till he woke up. Taking a deep breath she fired up her car, raised the top, and drove off.
Narris stood at the back window, watching. This was working out far better than she could have ever dreamed. She needed to find the security footage now.
With great effort I forced myself awake again. God, my head was still spinning a little. What the hell happened? He had been having the strangest dream about Ms. Hannah. Even stranger than the ones he normally had. Rolling over he nearly fell off the couch. Couch? When was the last time he fell asleep on the couch? It was far too uncomfortable. Except it wasn't. This was the comfiest couch he'd ever been on. This certainly wasn't
his
couch.
With newfound urgency I sat up, causing the blanket that had been covering me to fall to the floor. Where the hell was I? Looking around I saw I was in a lavish living room. Whoever lived her was high class and obviously loaded.
"There's my sleepy boy."
I blushed at both the sound of the voice and the comment it made. I was in Mrs. Hannah's living room?
"What? What happened?"
"I got a little carried away with our photoshoot," she said sheepishly. "In my defense I didn't think perfume could knock a man out."
So, it
hadn't
been a dream. He caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall behind her.
"Oh God! I am so late! I'm going to be fired!"
"No, no, you won't," she said assuredly.
"How can you be so sure?"
"You're taking a sick day."
"I didn't call in."
"I took care of it."
"How?"
"I started the company with him. I'm co-owner. More of a silent partner really but I step in from time to time to make sure he doesn't screw anything up. As a result, I have full administrative access. I still have company email. Come to think of it, it's my only email."
My eyes flickered around the room finally settling on the coffee table before me. Laying there were my drawings. They had been printed out and arranged along the tabletop. I blushed at the sight of them. Ms. Hannah joined me on the couch to look at them. My blush deepened at being so close to my crush.
"They are truly beautiful," she said.
"Thank you."
"Did I do this to you?"
"What?"
She indicated the first few pictures. Those were from when I first started. I experimented by just drawing my hero in various bondage poses.
"Did I tie you up in these?"
