The long-awaited, super-secret party was just two days away. Everything seemed perfectly normal. A little
too
normal, perhaps. Certain things didn't add up, it seemed to Me.
I suspected that the party was going to be a sizable event -- 25 people, maybe more? Assuming I was correct in that, shouldn't there be a tent in the back yard? There was no evidence of any kind of setup or preparation for a gathering of the size I was assuming. Now, it could be going to all happen tomorrow, but that seemed unlikely.
I let it toss around in my head but not for long. I relegated it to that special place in the subbie brain, where questions that have no appropriate answer sit until they are resolved or slowly fade away.
I was grateful for the relative lack of traffic today on the way to work. I didn't have a long commute -- 20 minutes each way, but when what should be 20 turns out to be 25 one morning, or worse, evening, it's annoying. That for many people the commute is an hour or more, I had to admit I didn't think much about.
Work had, over the first couple of months, evolved into a good situation. I could of course never explain to anyone outside of the situation
everything
my job entailed, or how I felt empowered in a workplace where I was subject to random sexual use by my boss, but that was the reality of things. Rick gave me real work to do, gave me a space that I controlled, and seemed to sincerely value my opinion on things in general, and very much so in matters of fashion and style.
That other part was, well, what it was. I was here, as in all situations, to serve Mistress. At the same time, I was spending time at a job that I actually liked and where I was contributing, and not just by attending to Rick's spur-of-the-moment sexual needs.
I sat down and began to settle in for the day. Rick's door was closed, meaning he was in there and in "do not disturb" mode. When Rick was not in, or out of town, the door was always left open, access to the whole area controlled through my outer door.
I didn't think much more about it as I made coffee and continued work on the project that Rick had dubbed Operation Warsaw. It involved coming up with a short list of Polish models that we thought we might be able to lure out of their current deals and sign with us.
One phase of the project involved looking at hundreds of head shots, Instagram feeds, and the like. After a while it became difficult to differentiate one stunning Polish girl from the next; I laughed to myself that there must be a factory somewhere where they churn these beauties out on a production line.
I had asked Rick at the inception of the project if it wouldn't be easier to just find girls who weren't signed with anyone and sign
them
. His answer was that he wanted models who someone in the business had already deemed worthy of being signed. In Rick's mind, technology and the interconnectedness of the world today made it much harder to find a real unsigned gem; signing someone else's girl away from her current agency was more expedient and profitable in the long run.
There was logic to Rick's position, but I knew also that no small part of this strategy involved Rick's enjoyment of the feeling of winning out over the competition. In the end, HTA could afford to pay the girl whatever it might take to get her
and
give her current agency a nice buyout to avoid litigation.
The inner door opened, and Rick emerged along with a gorgeous redhead. They said goodbye, her with an accent I couldn't quite place, and she breezed out the main door. I watched her a moment as she went out; the back view was just about as appealing as the front had been. .
"Can you finish Operation Warsaw today instead of tomorrow?" Rick's voice snapped me out of my redhead-observing.
I said "yes" without thinking about it too much. There wasn't
that
much left for me to do...probably.
I wasn't expecting to know the reason why, but Rick volunteered it.
"Katherine asked me if I could give you tomorrow off -- she needs your help with party, I guess."
I tried to not look surprised. After the intense effort to keep everything secret, it was unlikely that Mistress needed my help at the last minute.
I smiled and assured Rick that Project Warsaw would definitely be finished today.
"Oh, and -- I don't think there's anything else pressing you're dealing with, is there?"
I thought a moment and said no.
Rick laughed. "You're off the next two weeks, is why I mentioned it."
This time I couldn't
not
look surprised. That's so Mistress, I thought.
Rick was on the same wavelength. "That's
so
Katherine," he said with a chuckle.
He headed for the outer door. I knew he had a lunch scheduled with a prospective client.
Rick smiled again. "If I don't see you, I'll see you Saturday!"
"Have a great rest of your day," I said, voice steady but mind racing.
OK, the plot thickens. That Rick was invited to the party wasn't particularly surprising -- he and Mistress were longtime friends. But the two weeks' vacation following the party was a huge curveball. It could be coincidental; Mistress had obviously consulted Rick and Rick I'm sure had engineered my workload so that now wouldn't be a bad time to be gone for two weeks.
But tomorrow was a last-minute thing...apparently. Either there had been some sudden change of plans,
or
this was the plan all along and I just didn't need to know about it. Or ... well, could be anything, really. I found myself more than a little frustrated but more excited, contemplating all that.
I glanced at the pile on my desk that I'd just committed to finishing today, and decided that idle speculation was for the idle, and idle wasn't on my menu today.
And "menu" made me think about lunch. I ordered some Thai food to be delivered and dove back into Operation Warsaw.
* * * * *
I left the results of Operation Warsaw on Rick's desk a little after five. He still hadn't returned -- lunch had obviously become after lunch and after lunch quite likely dinner and probably a night on the town after that. Rick was like that...he knew how to make you like him and want to spend time with him, and without trying that hard. With a prospective new client, Rick would be up for whatever the guest might be up for. The thought then occurred to me that if Rick's prospective client wanted to get laid, Rick's extremely sexy, loyal, and submissive assistant would be a fast, cheap, and legal option. I realized with a bit of a start that I was slightly disappointed. Jeez.
Rick did know how and when to spread cash around. What he spent today he'd write off on his taxes and what it might lead to in the future would dwarf whatever he was spending on "business development," which is how his accountant would characterize $1,800 spent at a strip club.
I straightened everything up so the outer office would look perfect during my absence. I turned on the Out of Office replies, recorded a temporary voice mail greeting, although no one leaves voice mails any more, texted Security to remind them that the guy who services the fish tanks would be coming on Tuesdays and to let him in the office, and that was that. I was officially on vacation.
Driving home I laughed, thinking here I go, about to dive off another cliff with who knows what below. I'd become good at it, I realized, with more satisfaction than might strictly be proper.
* * * * *
Thursday night came and went with no indication about tomorrow, the party, the vacation, or anything else out of the ordinary.
Mistress fucked my brains out, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but She did let me cum, which was not only out of the ordinary but...absolutely mind-melting and, no other word for it, transforming. I was me but I wasn't, is the only way to try to describe the consuming intensity of it.
I slept like a rock and Katherine actually had to wake me up at the unheard-of hour of 9:30. I got up, got myself together, made coffee, and made breakfast.