During the cab ride to Ed's building, Ellie forced herself to calm down. Now, however, as she entered the lobby, she felt self-conscious -- and certainly underdressed. Before they hung up, he'd told her to shower, throw on some jeans and a t-shirt, and come over. She'd done just that, and now regretted it. The space was -- in a word -- elegant, and she, in ripped denim and white cotton, did not feel so.
Standing just inside the door, Ellie wavered. She could feel the eyes of the concierge studying her. For a moment, she considered leaving, but then pulled her Burberry coat close around her, and walked to his counter -- the soles of her untied combats boots clomping across the marble tiles. Giving her name and destination, she looked around while he called up. Lacing her fingers, she rocked back and forth, from heel to toe, as she waited. She heard one side of the brief conversation, then was directed to the elevators.
Entering, Ellie found herself reflected by mirrors on three sides of the car. Pushing the button for the appropriate floor, she leaned close and brushed the hair away from her face to inspect the light make-up she'd applied, then slipped off her coat. Her nipples poked out against the tight shirt, and she smiled, knowing Ed would appreciate the sight of them.
The lift stopped, and doubt crept into Ellie's mind. Was she crazy for coming to meet a complete stranger? Alone! A stranger who'd molested her on a subway car! Jesus, she'd sent him nude pictures of herself! Her brain spun with a million wild thoughts, and this mad maelstrom allowed few answers to take hold.
"Stop it," she told herself, out loud.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the hallway, and turned to find Ed's apartment.
"One foot in front of the other," she whispered.
Locating the door, she knocked. It opened almost immediately. On the other side stood a woman wearing nothing but a black lace bra and panty set. The lingerie displayed her petite frame wonderfully, and did little to hide her A-cup breasts, or the trimmed triangle of dark pubic hair underneath.
"I'm so sorry," Ellie blurted. "I must have the wrong..."
"Hmmm," the woman interrupted, "he certainly does have a type."
"Excuse me?" Ellie petitioned.
"Come in," she invited. "Can I take your coat?"
"Who are you?" Ellie asked, without moving.
"I'm Kara," she offered.
"Is Ed here?" Ellie sputtered, confused.
"No, he isn't," Kara revealed. "I'm his... special assistant."
"I don't understand," Ellie admitted.
"Please, come in, and I'll explain," Kara urged, as Ellie remained still. "Preferably before any of my neighbors see us like this."
Surreptitiously, Ellie looked right and left, suddenly worried random people would happen upon her speaking to a half-, hell, mostly-, naked, woman at this time of night, in the hallway of an upscale building in Manhattan. Kara couldn't stifle a laugh. Ellie blushed, feeling completely ridiculous. Another moment passed, and then she stepped inside. Kara closed the door. Taking Ellie's coat, Kara draped it over a chair.
"Follow me," Kara instructed.
Not knowing what else to do, Ellie complied. As they walked, Ellie studied Kara's body. She stood an inch taller than Ellie's 5'7"; her dirty blonde hair appeared slightly longer than Ellie's shoulder length.
Entering a brightly lit bedroom, Kara turned and noticed Ellie staring at her. Ellie realized that Kara could almost be -- if not her twin -- then at least a close sister; the only significant difference in their appearance being Kara's blue eyes compared to Ellie's hazel. Now, she understood what Kara meant about someone having a type.
"Get undressed, and sit," Kara ordered, waving a hand toward the bed.
"What?" Ellie protested.
"Are you there, Sir?" Kara asked the air, ignoring Ellie's question.
"I am," a voice said.
Ellie looked toward the sound. On a chair, in the corner of the room, sat a laptop computer. On the screen, she could see someone -- a man -- sitting in shadow.
"Who is that?" Ellie asked, approaching the computer.
"It's Ed," the voice declared.
"What is this?" Ellie demanded.
"We don't have all night," Kara barked. "Take off your clothes."
Ed remained silent. Ellie hesitated for a moment, then slowly undressed, dropping her clothes on the bed. She took her place, and Kara stood in front of her.
"First; you are free to leave at any time," Kara said.
Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but Kara cut her off.
"Second; we have a 'safe word,'" she continued. "If at any time our actions become uncomfortable, or undesirable, say 'apple,' and we will stop."
Though unsure, Ellie nodded.
"Have you ever had sex with another woman?" Kara asked.
"Y... yes," Ellie stammered. "I'm bi."
"Do you have any questions," Kara allowed.
"I don't understand what's going on here," Ellie confessed.
"And, yet, you took off your clothes for someone you met less than five minutes ago," Kara scoffed.
"Kara," Ed called, gruffly.
"I'm sorry, Sir," Kara said to the laptop; then returned her attention to Ellie. "As I said, I'm Ed's assistant. And, this is sort of like an interview... or an audition."
"An audition?" Ellie questioned. "I just came here to..."
"Fuck Ed," Kara chimed in. "Yes, I know."
Self-consciously, Ellie crossed her arms in front of her body.
"But," Kara went on, "no one fucks Ed unless they fuck me first."
"No one," Ellie asked, in a snarky tone.
"No one," Kara repeated.
"Are you his girlfriend?" Ellie countered.
"His assistant," Kara informed her for the third time.
"So, you get paid to fuck for him?" Ellie pressed.
"The inclusion of 'special duties' is addressed in my compensation package," Kara chaffed.
"Special duties?" Ellie laughed.
"Enough," Ed grumbled, before Kara could respond.
Kara looked at the screen for a long second.
"Did you wear the item Ed told you to?" Kara asked.
"Yes," Ellie answered.
"Show us," Kara insisted.
Ellie stood and turned her back to the laptop. Bending slightly, she spread the cheeks of her ass, exposing the butt plug she had inserted.
