Codi Samantha Elliott, was fast becoming aware of two warring factors or personas within her. It wasn't like a split personality... more a case of of two natures. One that had been dominant since pretty much birth: Samantha, the all business, tightly wound woman in her early 20s that everyone at the office grudgingly respected and eagerly resented.
Then there was the other side of her that no-one knew and even she herself was only now beginning to recognize. Codi, the walking epitome of youthful, animal sexuality that though still repressed was beginning to assert herself.
She didn't go by her given name of Codi at work as it was hard enough to get people to take seriously a twenty three old of such abundant brains, beauty and sexuality with a name like that no matter how dressed down and pulled back she made herself. Sounded much too much like Candi to her ears and those of everyone of her jealous detractors.
So it was Samantha by day, she who was indeed the brains of the whole company. The one that had saved it. But somehow that didn't translate into affection at the office. As far as the rank and file were concerned, particular those multiple decades older, God had showered way too many gifts on her shoulders.
And work at the office was relentless these days. The real estate explosion had resulted in massive turnover in almost all of the company's properties as people cashed in and out and new tenants were sought and signed. Some of the last remaining investment properties acquired by her Father's misadventures were also caught up in this as the very real hope began to emerge that their value might catch up to their debt.
It became close to overwhelming as, ultimately, despite the supposed support of key employees, every decision of any real significance was passed on to her. Why was that? If she was honest she would admit it was her own fault.
When she had come back to rescue the company and saw how shell-shocked her parents appeared to be at what lay before them, her first instinct was that the only person she could truly trust to execute what was necessary...was herself. Now, just a few short years and thousands of decisions later, no-one else really knew in detail the sprawling nature of the company's assets and obligations and how they needed shuffling.
Imminent disaster was no longer the case, she had guided it out of that stage, but keeping it at bay still relied, here and there, on some creative book-keeping and asset valuations of which she preferred to be the only one aware.
It meant that most working days finished past 7 or 8pm when she could finally pour herself a glass of wine and either microwave something or put together a salad for dinner. That was also when the working half of her, that half that bore so much pressure throughout the day, would slowly recede and let the other part of her, the ever growing part it seemed, begin to take over.
She would try to pay attention to the news but before long she would take a shower, then put on a tee shirt and panties, lie down on her bed and reach for her tablet, propping it up beside her and would open the file that she feared and celebrated seeing. The video file that Michael had put together. Perhaps Ana too. My God, she hadn't even fucked Michael yet........the thought whirled around her head and how much she wanted it shocked her.
As she watched, and saw herself in moments of extraordinary sexual activity she would relive those moments and it would all come back to her. She could see herself, looking up at Michael as he came all over her breasts while she brought herself off...right on front of a camera she hadn't known was there until moments before.
As she watched herself orgasm, soaked in his come, her fingers would slide down into the top of her panties and she would always be both surprised and ashamed of how wet she was. She would lift those slick fingers to her mouth and taste her sex before reaching for her vibrator and then feeling it pulse on her clit.
With her other hand she would reach into her night stand for the butt plug they had sent her and gently ease it into her ass, a task that became easier each time, as she moved the vibrator all over her drenched pussy and remembered that the most wonderful and scary parts of it all were that Yes, it had really happened, but also that it had been filmed and she didn't even have the original file.
He had told her that only those who should see it would see it. She had misunderstood that to mean that she had final say in who that might be but it quickly became clear she was mistaken. Who did they show it too? Did they have parties where they played the recordings of their victims who were powerless to stop it? Dear God, that thought could make her come almost on its' own. Or was she the only one? For a split second she enjoyed that possibility but then quickly realized that was staggeringly unlikely.
They were too practiced at it. But as she arched her back in fabulous, rolling orgasm, watching her screen-self on her knees, furiously playing with herself whilst eating out a woman who called her a 'Whore' and whose husband she had just fucked as part of a 'challenge', she remembered what he had said......
That she needed to do this and, when she had balked, he took it upon himself to blackmail her with the video evidence of her behavior that would surely shatter her career in terms of anyone ever taking her seriously again, much to the delight of her fellow workers. Then what would become of the company? Her parents? Herself?
It was very necessary he said, for her to know who she was. That he would show her a persona that she had kept hidden. No, not hidden, that wasn't right......undiscovered was more accurate. That it would be who she really was.......and the fact that what had already occurred in that journey of discovery was only the very beginning both thrilled and terrified her.
It was Friday morning when she received the call. She had just answered without looking at her phone, assuming it was yet another tedious but urgent business call. "Yes." she said, simply.
"Hello, Codi. Did you miss me?"
As soon as she heard his voice, her day was transformed. She felt something churning deep down inside her as the emerging part of her all but took over, right here in her office. How dare he have the power to do that? Who did he think he was? She noticed it was rapidly becoming a mismatch, when the everyday part of her had to confront this other new her.
She found herself reaching for something witty to say. Something clever and independent.........
but found that "Yes." was all that came out. Now said in an entirely different tone than when she had picked up the phone. If one tone had been cold iron, this was warm caramel.
I'm so sorry, I have been out of town on business. I was hoping you would be available for dinner?"
"When?" As if it mattered. She would be available.
"Tonight. Maybe around 7.30. At Caprice?"
She paused. She wanted to prevaricate, umm and aw as though there were many demands on her time and maybe this one didn't make the grade.....but before she could say anything....
"Can't wait to see you." The call was over. She had managed three words. Ten letters. She felt stupid and embarrassed. But something else as well. Unbelievably excited. Where might this evening lead?
Her mind raced. Would they be alone? She knew better than to assume that. What would she find herself doing a few short hours from now? She pressed her thighs tightly together as she felt her heat rising right through her tailored suit pants. Would it all be filmed? Of course it would. That scared and thrilled her. Why?
What had she gotten herself into? Twenty plus years of middle class morality fought for control. This was all horribly wrong. It had to stop. When she had first been challenged to do something that never in her wildest dreams or nightmares would she ever have contemplated doing, she had done it. Why? Because she was threatened with exposure.
But was that it it? Maybe the situation she faced and the debauched challenge she had accomplished, with time to spare even, fully recorded for posterity and who knows whose entertainment?, actually had been buried somewhere in those wildest dreams and nightmares.
And now she was excited to have dinner with her blackmailer who had made that happen. Though he would have preferred the word Enabler. Perhaps........
She tried to rationalize it. He already had film of her doing shocking, sexual things so what difference did it make if there was more? But what the hell did that mean? An acceptance that more shocking actions lay ahead of her. Maybe even tonight. Surely not actually at Caprice? She nearly laughed at the thought that that had even entered her head. It was a famous, high-end restaurant. It was not likely that it would be the scene of another degradation/liberation. And, if it was, which of those would it actually be? Where could this all end up?
She had to go tonight. There was no option. But she had to end it, or rather it had to end itself. How would that happen? Then it came to her. It was so simple that it seemed to placate both sides of her internal struggle. She told herself, simply, that it would all be over when she just fucked him. That was it. That the whole thing would disappear, like a burst soap bubble.
He was the magic hold on her, wasn't he? It wasn't her dark inner self. It was him. He was the key and the reason and everything else, all the psycho-babble was nothing more than exploitation of her naivete by an older sophisticated man. She even realized, quite suddenly, that when it was over he would destroy the films of her......
That he would know her short journey was over and no longer need or want them. Could she sell that to herself? She had to try, didn't she? That's what good, decent girls did.
She headed home early to get ready for him.
By the time she sat in the back of her Uber, in a cream colored silk suit with pants, featuring a jacket that offered a glimpse of her white lacy bra, all that she wore beneath, and anklet wrap heels, she was definitely not the same girl who went to work this morning. Wow, did she love the truth of that! Before Michael, she had never even thought of owning such an outfit.
As she stepped toward the door of the restaurant and rewarded the employee who won the race to open the door for her, with a glittering smile, she knew just about every eye in the restaurant was on her. As the Maitre'D approached, she heard Michael's voice.
"That's all right, Jacques. I believe it's my lucky day."
He looked as polished as ever. Crisp shirt under a designer suit, freshly clean shaven, blue eyes glinting from that tanned handsome face, flecks of grey at his temples. She wondered how long he took to get ready.....less than her two hours she thought.
"Of course, Sir." conceded Jacques, as Michael took her hand, gently kissed her on the cheek, and leaned close to whisper; "You are a Vision!"No doubt he could or even should have done better than that line but she felt that familiar and dangerous warm stirring in her just at the sight of him, his breath, and the slightest touch of his lips on her ear.
Dinner was fabulous. At least it all looked fabulous. She found herself too nervous to eat much. The conversation had been interesting, warm, witty and utterly devoid of any mention of how they really knew each other. What shared experiences they had. Finally.....he refilled her glass of champagne.
"What did you think of our gift?" She knew right away he was talking about the little butt plug and also how he had said 'our' gift. Ana. She was never very far away it seemed,.
"It took a little while to process."
"And a little while longer to get used to?"
