Shawn

Eric Johannsen lived in a penthouse in the Buckhead area of Atlanta. It was not an overly tall building, but it was convenient and he liked it. There were two floors that he owned at the top that were solely for him, his family, and a few friends. He had two grown sons who occasionally stayed there, both of whom were involved in the family business. He had a female chauffeur, Lydia, who was sleek and blonde and very protective of his privacy.

The rooms on the top floor were mostly for parties or family gatherings. The rooms opened onto a terrace that was lined by trees, all moved by crane at great expense. There was a pool where he could swim without having pitying eyes look at his legs, and a small lawn with flowers at the edges. It was peaceful, a garden in the midst of a city, and he enjoyed it.

The floor below held his rooms, baths, guest rooms, kitchen, and a place for his therapist to give him a private workout, or for a massage. He could take an elevator to the floors below and enter directly from his suites to his office, or even enter the boardroom privately.

When he had answered Anthony's call, he had been overseas, so it had taken a few days for the message to reach him, that he was needed. He remembered the girl, so petite and fiery, lovely, so willing...

After flying home, therefore, he'd gone immediately to the rescue, and indeed, the whole group had come with him: Anna, Anthony, Mama San and Auntie K. The twins had finally decided to go to California and try their luck with the movies. Eric was betting that he knew what kind.

He'd put the four into two guest rooms, with strict orders to his guards who were allowed in his private quarters to make sure they stayed away from Shawn.

Shawn, he kept near him.

She'd been very sore at first, tired. He'd had his own doctor check her and ignored the raised eyebrows. The stings had been treated. Eric had thanked Anthony.

Eric was also convinced that there was more to this little group, and Shawn, than they were telling. He'd encouraged them to stay as his guests for a while, and they'd accepted. It seemed to him as though the Mistress, Anna, was a little nervous. Interesting. Eric did love a good mystery.

Shawn had rested and begun to recover quickly. He was curious about her. She didn't talk. Couldn't? Or wouldn't? or -- some trauma? He was intrigued.

But the fieriness he'd remembered had returned fully, and he did enjoy that so much. The look on Lydia's face! Priceless. He grinned to himself.

About two weeks after he'd brought Shawn and her group to his penthouse, Shawn had apparently begun feeling well enough to masturbate. He'd watched her, quietly, a voyeur more than twice her age, at least, as she had stroked herself.

A few days after that, he'd brought her into the boardroom with him. He'd been alone, and the outer doors were locked. Eric had called a friend and invited him to lunch.

Shawn was wearing a little cutaway black leather jacket; its sides only 2 or so inches under her armpits, full length sleeves, the front cut open. The small flaps of leather only brushed the beginnings of the sides of her breasts. She wore a black leather collar; she had on black sheer lace gloves with no fingers, just the palms and wrists covered, though the wrists had leather cuffs in place.

The same sheer black lace was used for her hose, thigh high, with the tiniest of black dots embroidered here and there in the silkiness of the hose. Black pumps with heels to kill for, and ankle cuffs. A single gold chain around her waist, fine and strong. It glittered around her waist when she moved.

David was 57 and an old friend. He arrived for lunch, cheerful and glad to see Eric again. They shook hands, and Eric called out for Shawn.

"Wait til you see this, David." Eric motioned for Shawn. She walked over to him and leaned against him, her left arm around his neck and shoulders. His right arm curled around her waist, and her right hand went over his. His hand moved down a little until his hand was on her right hip. She eyed David, unembarrassed.

David whistled. "What? Where the hell -- Eric!" he laughed and shook his head.

"Come on," Eric waved him over. "Take a closer look."

David moved over almost timidly. Eric tsked.

"Shawn, he's shy. Help him out."

She moved away from Eric slowly and went to David, who stood still, watching. She took one of his hands and placed it on her hip, and took the other and pulled it to her breast. He breathed in deeply.

"Oh damn."

"At least," chuckled Eric. He wheeled closer.

David shook his head. "Go on back to Eric," he said, smiling. She smiled back and returned to Eric's side.

"I want to ask you to take a look at her, David."

"I just did!" David pulled out a chair and sat down.

"No, I mean her mind." David was a neurosurgeon. Eric explained about Shawn's inability to talk. "I want to know if she can't talk, or if it's some kind of trauma. Also -- " Eric rolled a little closer. "I tried teaching her some letters, David. She grabbed her head and started shaking it, like it hurt, a lot."

David frowned, puzzled. "Ok. For you, I'll check her out. But she'll have to wear more than that, Eric!" They began discussing old times, old friends, and Lydia brought in lunch. She took Shawn away with her, and Eric explained what he knew. They made plans for David to start what Eric called "the investigation," finished lunch, and David left.

Shawn returned after David had gone, and she wandered around the room at times, then would move back to Eric now and then, while he worked. In the afternoon, two of the vice presidents in his company called, and he told them to come up to the boardroom. He grinned at Shawn and tweaked her nose playfully.

"You stay here. Bud is an old fuddy-duddy, but he collects porn magazines that he think nobody knows about. Sam is a lech. I think this is going to be fun!"

She stayed by his side, and Lydia let the two men enter a few moments later, then locked the doors again.

The first man was portly, balding on top, his face friendly but slightly red from his walk. That was Bud. Sam was taller and wore a pale blue suit that had last been in fashion thirty years before -- if it had ever been in fashion. They stopped, Sam bumping into Bud's back, as they saw Shawn. Eric as smoothing his hand slowly up and down her right hip as she leaned sideways against him, her left arm again draped about his neck. He turned his head slightly and kissed the nipple of her left breast.

"How do you like my new plaything?" he grinned. The two men numbly pulled out chairs and sat, eyeing her.

"Holy shit," Bud finally said. Sam had a greedy look in his eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart, sit on my lap," Eric told her, and she obliged, her back to him. She kept looking at the two men, which somehow seemed hotter to them, more erotic, that she did not blush or turn away, but stared back, unabashed. She settled onto Eric's lap comfortably, her legs on each side of his, leaned her head back onto one of his shoulders. She rested her arms on the outside of each of his chair's arms.

Eric fondled one of her breasts slowly. "Do you like her?"

"Oh hell yes," breathed Bud, patting his forehead with a handkerchief. His face had gotten a little redder. His eyes were bulging slightly. Sam's lips were parted, and his tongue kept flicking out to lick them.

Eric smiled. He moved his other hand slowly down to her crotch. "Let's show Bud and Sam how much fun we have, sweetheart," and his hand pressed gently on her crotch, rubbing down a little. Her legs opened a little wider, and Bud, sweating, choked.

"Be damned, Eric."

Eric's hand moved up and down a little further on her crotch, and he felt her head press back against his shoulder more. "Open up your legs some more, sweetheart," he crooned. "Show the nice men what a sweet little pussy you have." She opened her legs a little wider and scooted a little closer to Eric's knees, forcing her hips out a little. He moved his thumb gently back and forth on her clit. Her eyes closed. She pressed against his hand.

He pulled on her nipple with his left hand, pinching it a little, twisting a little. She breathed a little faster.

"Do you like my little slut?" he asked the men. Bud nodded.

"Oh yeah," Sam said, staring. His hand had wandered to his thigh. Any moment now, Eric thought, Sam would start groping himself.

Eric slid his right hand up and down her crotch a little faster, over the clit, then dipped two of his fingers between the lips, and inside her. She breathed in quickly and pushed her breasts up a little.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's good," he said softly. He moved his fingers in and out of her a little faster, pressing deeper. He whispered, "Do you like the nice men watching you?" She nodded, her eyes still closed. Eric smiled. He pushed a third finger inside her, and they could hear the slickness of his fingers, moving in and out of her, wet. She moved a little further towards his knees, pushing her hips out a little more. Her legs opened a little wider.

"Do you see how much she loves this?" Eric asked the men. They nodded, watching, awed, breathing heavily. He reached inside her, pushing up, his longest finger finding a spot, rubbing gently, and he felt her spasm, clench around his fingers, and he smiled. "Does that feel good, sweetheart?" and she nodded, but she pushed against his fingers again, searching for more.

He laughed and pulled out his fingers, slowly, and wiped them on a napkin left over from lunch. "You'll have to get one of these nice men to help you come again, sweetheart," he said, and when she stood reluctantly, he patted her bottom and pushed her gently towards the two men.

"Go ahead," he said. "Or don't you want to play with her?"

Bud shook his head, but he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. Sam patted his lap. She went over to him willingly, and he put his hands around her small waist and pulled her towards him, facing him.

"How far -?" he asked Eric.

"Use a condom." Eric tossed a packet to Sam.

"Here? Now?" Sam looked shocked -- the lecher of the office, looking shocked! Eric grinned and shrugged.

"Well. If you don't want to..."

Sam frowned. He moved his hands up and down the sides of her body, down to the tops of her hose, up again, slowly, past the waist, up to the sides of her breasts. He swallowed hard. "I don't know, Eric. I mean, I've never -- and in front of others!" but he didn't take his eyes from her, or his hands. He pulled her closer, then hooked one of his fingers into her gold waist chain and tugged, moving her closer. His finger dug gently into her navel, and she leaned forward, her hands on his shoulders, and put her legs on the outside of each of his.

"Help him, Shawn," said Eric softly.

She leaned forward, putting one of her nipples in his mouth, and his lips went around it of their own accord, sucking gently, nibbling. She edged forward until she sat on his lap, facing Sam, and wriggled her pussy against the bulge in his lap. He moaned and took more of her nipple into his mouth, tugging at it. She pulled one of his hands down, towards her crotch, and slipped his hand between her and him until he felt her wet and rubbing against him. She pressed against his hand a little, grinding slightly. He grabbed her bottom with both hands, then, and gripped them, tightly, squeezing, and pulling her against his trapped cock. She rocked against him a little, then pushed against his chest, pushing apart a little. His mouth released her nipple, and she leaned back a little. She moved her hands down and scooted back a little, still facing him, and she unzipped his pants, slowly, watching his eyes with her own.

"Oh damn, oh damn."

Bud was patting his face, panting, red in the face, sweat beading on his forehead, but he was watching intently.

She slowly finished unzipping Sam and worked her hand into his shorts until she found his cock. He was glad for the Viagara. Shawn pulled his cock from the shorts, freeing it, and it twitched and stood straight up. She smiled and rubbed a finger gently around its tip.

"Girl, you are going to kill me," Sam breathed. He gripped her shoulders.

She took out the condom and unrolled it over his cock, slowly, her fingers teasing, moving up and down the sides of his flesh. She finished and looked at him and smiled, then looked back at Eric.

He nodded. "Go ahead."

She nodded and turned back to Sam, moved his hands back to her bottom, where his hands gripped her flesh and pulled it apart a little, squeezing. She lifted up, found his tip, and slid it into her a little, then back out. He groaned.

"Oh God this girl is killing me, Eric," but Sam really wasn't paying attention to Eric or Bud or anyone in the room, just the tight hot flesh that was slowly teasing his cock.

She finally lowered herself onto him, wriggling a little, and he moaned. "Oh damn she's hot."

She moved up a little, down, and became more eager, and Sam realized, to his amazement, he was fucking a girl in his boss' boardroom, in front of the boss, and it made it all the hotter and more exciting for him. He panted and moved her up and down on him, small woman that she was, and her nipples were flushed and tight and erect, rubbing against his shirt at times, and she rode him in front of his boss and co-worker, as they watched. At one point, she lifted her legs and bent her knees, so that all of her weight went down on his cock, and moved her legs apart as much as she could, taking in all of him possible, and he yelled, it was that good. He held her in place for a moment, twitching, and then felt the cum gushing out of him, hot and fierce, spurting against the condom, and he shuddered and clutched her to him. She sat on his cock for a moment, and he realized at some point she had come, because her legs were wet and she was still shuddering. After a time, she pulled back a little and came off of him, and took a cloth from Eric, pulled off the condom carefully and tossed it in the garbage, and cleaned his cock with a cloth. He felt himself shivering as her hands caressed him. She looked up at him, smiling as she wiped him clean. She finished, and moved to Bud.

"Oh God. I -- I can't." He looked nervously at Eric, who shrugged.

"Another time then, perhaps?"

"Yeah. Sure. Another time." Bud nodded quickly.

"Time for us to go, sweetheart," said Eric. Lydia arrived silently and let the two men out, locked the doors again.

"Any idea what they wanted?" Lydia asked.

"None. Come on, sweetness," he said to Shawn. They went into Eric's office and to his bathroom. He knew this would be hard for her to do, but he was eager. There was so little he could do with this wheelchair, he enjoyed any kind of perversion that he could share with her.

Lydia cleaned her, and he enjoyed watching. He suspected that Lydia had some desire for Shawn, and that would be interesting to encourage. They moved to the toilet and fitted the leather padded benches to each side, and Shawn knelt on them, her legs wide apart, over the toilet. There was a sturdy bar above her head, lowered, and she lifted her arms, and Lydia clinked the links of the cuffs to the links on each end of the bar, then raised the bar until Shawn's arms were cuffed overhead. Lydia nodded at Eric and stepped back, but watched.

He rolled forward, close.

"Now, little sweetheart," he said, running a finger down Shawn's belly, into her navel, down to her clit, "I want you to pee for me. You know how I like it."

She struggled a little at first, her body still in the heat of sex. But finally, a little trickle started, and Eric watched, excited, and she urinated into the toilet while he watched. When she finished, his hands went to her bottom, and they were shaking slightly, so eager, so excited was he. His hands gripped her bottom and pulled it towards him. His thumbs pressed into the dip of her hips, towards her clit, and she breathed in quickly. He rubbed his thumbs up and down a little, then pulled her to him, and he leaned forward. His mouth found her clit and sucked at it. His tongue went between the lips, inside her, flicking, invading, touching. His fingers kneaded her bottom, dipping down, pulling her apart further. His teeth nibbled on each lip, tugging a little. He pulled more of her clit and the flesh into his mouth, gnawing gently. He pushed three of his fingers inside her, and she sucked in breath and shivered, and came.

He played with her a little longer, then reached for the towel that Lydia held out to him, then unhooked Shawn from the bar and helped her down. They moved next into Eric's office, and he pulled Shawn over his lap, face down, and smoothed his hand on her bottom softly, then he smacked her sharply on the bottom with his bare hand, and she jerked. He held one of her arms, and he smacked her naked bottom several times, until it was red from his hand.

"Table," he said to Lydia, who nodded and tugged Shawn towards a small worktable in his office and helped her onto it. Shawn lay down, and Lydia shackled her in place, arms overstretched, legs wide apart, hips at the very edge of the table, pussy bared and open.

Eric rolled closer to Shawn's face as Lydia worked; small beaded nooses were placed around the base of each nipple and pulled tight. Already the first nipple was gorging, swelling. Eric reached up and tweaked it. Shawn looked at him and smiled. Lydia finished the second nipple and then added a clamp to the base of Shawn's clit; she jerked a little, but Eric could see that the clit, too, was already puffing nicely. He smiled.

"Sweetheart, I've got some work to do now, but I'll send in someone to have fun with," he promised her. He rolled out of the room. Lydia put away her box that had held the little beaded nooses and the clamp, and rang the guard room. Eric kept several people as personal guards.

"Who's next?" she said. She waited a moment, listening. "Uh huh. Ok. Yeah, she's ready." She hung up and looked at Shawn, hands on her hips. "You are one more lucky slut," Lydia told Shawn. She frowned, reached out a hand towards Shawn, then dropped it.

A man with broad shoulders and a nice clean-cut face passed Lydia in the hallway. "She's in there," Lydia jerked her thumb over her shoulder. He nodded and ambled in, pulling a condom packet out of a basket as he entered. The boss was meticulous about this.

"Hey there," he said cheerfully to Shawn. "Just you and me." He unzipped his pants, pushed them down to his ankles along with his briefs, pulled on the condom. He looked at the clamp on Shawn's clit with interest. "That hurt?" he asked her. She shrugged, as much as she was able. He rubbed a finger over the swollen clit gently. She breathed in deeply, arching her back a little. "Oh man." He leaned forward, braced his hands on the table, and pushed his cock inside her. "Oh mannnnn," he said again, and he grunted as he rutted against her, the table jerking a little with his movements.

Lydia stood in the hallway, listening. Her hand pressed against her belly, then lower, a little lower -- she froze. Then she listened to the man, grunting, moaning, panting with lust, and her hand moved down again, pushing against her own clit, and she leaned back against the wall, sighed, and closed her eyes as she rubbed herself gently.

Maybe...