Just a Job

Angela checked the address once again. She looked between the bars of the gate and gave one long, low whistle. Miss Rebecca Bingham was more than filthy rich. If she played her cards right, she could land a permanent position within those walls. Walking up to the guardhouse, she reviewed everything she knew about Miss Bingham.

According to local rumor, her family had always been rich and always lived somewhere in town. She was born into money... and the shit that small towns with their own royalty brings. When she was thirteen, rumor has it that her father, drunk off his ass, decided she needed to be indoctrinated into the world of sex. She managed to get off a scream, and got help from one of the black servants her father loved so dearly. One quick trial later and the servant was charged and convicted of rape and sodomy with a minor. Southern Justice at its level worst. Rebecca never forgot that moment. By sixteen she was a confirmed lesbian... and an open one. In the South, such a thing was totally unheard of. But she was Old Money; no one dared say anything. When she disappeared for ten years, no one said a damn thing. If her parents hadn't died in that plane crash, no one would be saying anything now. But they did. And she was their only heir.

And since she never married or even hinted at having borne an illegitimate child, the line ended with her. True to Southern form, the vultures were circling. Everyone wanted a piece of that fortune. Angela only wanted a job. The temp agency sent her to Miss Bingham because she's requested a personal assistant. No local female... for Miss Bingham requested ONLY females... would apply. Angela felt certain that her status as an out-of-town college student guaranteed her first shot at this job. Besides... she'd bedded her share of women; if the sixty-three year old heiress wanted a young cunt to fuck before she died, she was willing.

Angela pressed the intercom button and waited for a reply. A full minute passed before it crackled to life.

"Miss Angela Stone from the agency. Sorry to make you wait. Please come in."

As the gate opened, Angela replayed the voice over in her mind. Maybe it was something in the electronics, but she was sure the voice sounded like it belonged to a much younger woman. She shook her head and followed the tree-lined driveway to her destination. At the front door to the mansion, she paused to look around.

Even though she couldn't bee it, she knew the place had a basement. Significant... but only because it looked to be five stories tall!!! The front doors were ten feet tall, and looked to be made out of solid redwood. Brass... POLISHED brass... decorated everything from the key latches to the doorknobs to the two lanterns flanking the doors. The place was well maintained... which brought a very disturbing question to mind. Where was the staff needed to keep the place looking like this?

The front door opened and Angela found herself staring at a very beautiful, very NAKED Miss Rebecca Bingham. She may have been sixty-three, but she looked no older than thirty-three. Overweight, but in a way Angela never knew could be sexy. Large tits, capped with stiff brown nipples, gave way to an almost slender waist. This gave way to wide hips, gently flaring without the lumps of imperfection to mar the image of seductiveness. Faint traces of makeup graced her face, doing more to subdue the power within her than to accentuate beauty. All told, Miss Rebecca Bingham was sexy as hell. Angela forced herself to appear calm as she spoke.

"Good afternoon Miss Bingham. I'm..."

"Please spare me the speech, dear. I'm too old to be sold by it. Just come in and let me talk to you for a moment. If you still want the job, I'll get rid of the middleman and we'll have a better time." The nude Miss Bingham turned and walked inside. Her ass moving easily. But not seductively. Angela shrugged and followed.

"Before we begin, let me sort truth from lie. I am a lesbian. Have been for quite some time. Don't really see that changing any time soon. That said... it should be quite logical that everyone working for me is at least a bisexual FEMALE. No men are allowed on my property. Not even the mailman is male. As owner of the grounds, I will take what I want when I want. So if you've got a problem with munching on sixty year-old twat, I suggest you find somewhere else to work.

"If you have a problem with working with lesbians or bisexual women, get out. If you can't abide by the rule here, get out. Otherwise, you'll be subject to MY punishment. And believe me; it's better to spend twenty years in jail than to deal with me, Angela.

"We're rather informal here... unless otherwise notified. If you make the grade, you'll be expected to memorize the name of every female working on the grounds. Nicknames and cunt flavors are optional.

"I understand you are a student. Good; I always wanted a fresh outlook on things. And since you're from out-of-state, your outlook is bound to be about as fucked up as mine. Fell free to bitch, moan and complain. So long as the rules are followed, I honestly don't give a fuck what or who you do while employed by me.

"Any questions?" The entire speech filled only a few moments, but the tour of the first floor matched it to the second. Meeting room. Kitchen. Dining room. Downstairs study. One speech, one brief tour of the place. Angela fought back the smile; she knew what was happening to her. She took back most of the bad things said about her most recent ex-boyfriend as Rebecca lead her through a back door.

"This is the pool area. It's covered to keep out the nosey whores across the road. Feel free to make use of it in your spare time." Angela's eyes were drawn immediately to the two figured writhing on the ground. Both were female. Neither could be older than sixteen.

"Before you ask, every female here of legal age. I don't go for the child molester thing, dear."

"You've done this before, Miss..."

"Please. Call me Rebecca. And yes I have done this before. An old friend taught me how to be a functional paranoid. Best lesson I've ever learned. If you stay here any length of time, you'll learn it also.

"Your interview is in thirty minutes. I'll send Maria down. She'll show you to the guest room assigned to you." With a curt nod, Rebecca turned and headed inside. A minute later, a beautiful brunette, nude, walked up to her.

"Angela? I am Maria. Please follow me."

Angela followed, forcing herself not to look at Maria's tight ass cheeks as she walked. Neither made a sound as they walked up the stairs. Apparently the guest quarters were on the top floor. Angela felt something was odd about that, but remained silent. Maria opened a door, and stepped aside. Angela stepped into her room... and immediately wondered exactly how much money Rebecca had.

The entire room was furnished in black and purple. Rich, creamy purple that screamed luxury. Scented candles... her favorite scent... burned quietly. They sat on a vanity desk that was bigger than her bed at home. The floor was carpeted in thick plush, and looked freshly cleaned. The bed was modest. Covered in silk sheets, yes. But still modest. The gold goblets on the nightstand were most definitely NOT modest. Nor was the bottle of wine beside them... or the silver wine bucket.

"Impressive," she whispered.

"Rebecca ordered that you be made comfortable. Please feel free to contact me if you need anything. There is a computer terminal on the right hand side of the vanity. It does not have internet access, however."

Angela smiled, then set about walking around the room. Maria bowed then let herself out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Angela closed her eyes; the faint prickling on the back of her neck told her she was being observed. Eventually, satisfied that she couldn't find any of the hidden cameras, She sat down in front of the vanity. The faint glow from the monitor to her right seemed to fit somehow. She opened up the word processing program and began jotting down some notes.

* * * *

Rebecca watched the monitor carefully, stroking the head between the plump thighs as if it were a favorite pet. Which in some ways it was... or at least the body the head belonged to was a pet. Rebecca's pet. She smiled at the memory of just how her most rabid foe became her plaything. Lack of movement in Angela's room froze the smile on Rebecca's face. Yet no humor reached her eyes.

She knew Angela was sharper than she let on. Only the high-tech surveillance system guaranteed that the young student was always under a watchful eye. Rebecca shivered as Debra's tongue slid over her clit. Angela was going to be a hard sell. But if she took the job, the rest was easy.

A quick jerk and Debra's face was free. Rebecca stood up, dragging the blonde behind her. As she exited the room she dropped the exhausted body on the floor. Now that she was warmed up, it was time for the interview. She signaled for Maria to bring Angela to the Interview Room, then made here way there.

It looked like any corporate boardroom. A long, oak table dominated the center of the room. Plush leather chairs were placed perfectly around the oblong table. Small monitors were sunk into the table, one for each seat. The seat farthest from the double doors was largest. It also looked sinister. Solid black, it reflected no light. Behind the chairman's seat there was a huge monitor. Not even the small water pitchers seemed out of place... to the untrained eye. Rebecca walked over to the largest seat and sat down. Her fingers played over the hidden keypad under her left hand, and the chair came to life. The soft vibrations ensured that Debra's prior efforts were not wasted. Rebecca closed her eyes... and waited.

The faint click as the door handle was touched announced Angela's presence. Rebecca remembered the layout if the room, superimposing an imaginary female form opening the doors quietly, wondering what lay beyond. As soon as the door close, Rebecca opened her eyes.

"Have a seat, Angela," Rebecca said casually. She watched as the Beautiful brunette approached the table, and bit back the smile as Angela chose the seat directly to her right hand side. Bold. Cocky. She would do well.

"As my personal assistant, you will be required to do virtually anything I ask. I won't ask you to break the law, but you'll bend the Hell out of it. It's not a job for someone with other loyalties. I will ensure that you have sufficient time to complete your studies and still maintain something of a social life.

"You will also be requested to service me. I know you understand, but for the record, you WILL be required to fuck and/or suck me. The entire contract is being downloaded to the monitor in front of you. If you agree, a hard copy will be given to you at the end of the interview.

"Also, my personal assistant must be open minded. There will be occasions where I ask for something that will make my assistant... uncomfortable. So if you're racist, or prejudiced for any reason, get the fuck out of my house this instant.

"Please read the contract. If you agree, the stylus on your left hand side can be used to electronically sign it." She fell silent, the soft vibrations within the chair stroking her cunt back into awareness.

Rebecca noticed that Angela scrolled up and down several times, twisting her face slightly as she sought to unravel the meaning of the contract. This was comforting; the young woman wasn't so trusting after all. Even though Angela never flinched when she was told about her bedroom duties, Rebecca still wondered if the young woman would have the evil... She noticed the cold stare in Angela's eyes, and her heart thundered in her chest.

"You may as well ask, Angela." Rebecca's cunt pulsed softly, anticipating the words.

"Why me? This contract was specifically drawn up for me. It's too specific. If all you wanted to do was fuck me, why not drop by Malcolm's. Everyone knows I hang out there. I'm sure no one would think twice about you..."

"Oh yes they would. I donate a great deal of money to the college. So much that I had to cut a deal." Rebecca watched Angela's eyes carefully. The young woman was thinking over her somewhat odd statement. Rebecca focused everything on Angela, totally ignoring her pleading cunt.

Angela knew something really big was about to happen. Rebecca was beginning to fidget. The faint smell of feminine arousal drifted by her nose on several occasions. A quick glance at Rebecca's bare breasts confirmed everything. Rebecca was horny; she wanted Angela to be her personal slut. Angela, at this moment, had total control over Rebecca. That was the sex-logic of the situation. So why did Angela's gut twist and turn, yelling at her that something was VERY wrong. She closed her eyes for a moment, banishing the fears and doubts. When she opened them again, they fell immediately on the famous dotted line. Picking up the stylus, she signed the contract.

Rebecca came. Her orgasm literally sliced through her spinal chord. She jerked only ONCE, then remained motionless as her eyes darted around. She didn't care that Angela was watching. Rebecca was in heaven, and had gotten there via the express elevator. This always happened when a plan goes exactly like she wanted. She never tired of the experience.

Angela noticed that her new boss was cumming. She smiled; first orgasm she ever gave without even touching her lover. Not bad for her first day on the job. Angela sat back in her chair. She felt the binders pin her in place, and began to panic.

"What the...?"

"Shut up, sit back, and enjoy the ride, Angela. From now on I call the shots." Rebecca rose, retrieving the sharp trench knife from its hidden sheath in the arm of her chair.

* * * *

Angela tried to calm herself. She was now totally nude, and the knife never touched her skin once. Comforting... until she realizes the skill Rebecca must have in order to keep the wicked looking blade from EVER touching her twitching form. Panic began twisting her body. She fought the panic with everything she had; this was not the time to lose her mind.

The chair suddenly moved. She felt something press its way into her cunt. The ease of entry surprised her... until she realized how hot she was. Rebecca had managed to somehow arouse her well beyond anyone else!! Angela knew what was being done to her. She knew how the average mind would respond to such stimulus. Rebecca was trying to break her spirit and mind. Angela KNEW this. That single thought banished all fear. Destroyed all doubt. Angela Smythe was in control of her OWN life and destiny. No one would take that from her. She turned her head towards Rebecca, and let the power of her conviction flash briefly in her eyes... before enjoying the sensations in her body.

Strangely, she began thinking about the sensations from an emotional viewpoint. She was obviously being raped. Yet she DID sign a contract virtually making herself a slave to Rebecca. The woman was going to use her like a fucktoy anyway; she just chose this way first. One mental shrug later, and Angela settled back, content with her final judgement. This was nothing more than a hook-up. A smile crept on her face as she felt the object grow within her cunt. As it began fucking her, she tried once again to free herself. Not because she didn't want to be raped; she wanted to help the damn thing. It was too fucking slow. She wanted to get FUCKED.

Rebecca knew the movements for what they were. Angela was well and truly within her role as Personal Assistant. The knife safely hidden, she tapped out the sequence on her keypad. Once Angela was free, she immediately adjusted herself so she could get truly fucked by the pseudo-dick. Rebecca, now seated in her chair, activated her chair's penises. She set the controls for minimum and began to speak.

"Thank you, Angela. You've passed the interview with flying colors. Just as I knew you would. Welcome to my home. I'll introduce you to everyone soon enough. Right now... sit back and relax. If you want to stop, just say, 'peanut butter.' Your chair has been programmed to do whatever you want. High-tech, but worth every penny. I'll give you a complete run-down on everyone and everything when we're done... and rested."

"But... what... if... I.. wa... wa... waaaaaa..."

Rebecca watched Angela fight her impending orgasm. It was a true test of will. Angela's face was twisted in a bizarre blend of concentration on not cumming... and that bliss-distorted thing that a truly powerful orgasm will do to one's features. Both images rippled across the young woman's face. Rebecca drank in the sight, her own orgasm steadily creeping up on her. She tapped out a command she seldom used: Condition Yellow, Status 5. This was as high as she'd ever taken the chair. Just one level lower is all she could take before her heart gave out. Thank God Helen was there. But that was twenty years ago and she HAD been ill most of the time. She was much stronger now.

Angela felt the tears roll down her cheek. She wanted to cum... and she DIDN'T want to cum. Not right now. Not when she needed to know if her boss would ever get around to actually TOUCHING her. Toys were nice, but she NEEDED physical contact. Her left hand snapped out and grabbed one of Rebecca's huge tits... only to lose it seconds later. Angela, frustrated at this denial, opened her eyes... while wondering when they'd been shut. Her vision caught the fuzzy outline of someone moving towards her. Rebecca. Her face... where? Hot air slid over her clit, and Angela jerked as if hit by lightning. She was going to cum. Hard. No questions asked on this one; she WAS going to cum.

Rebecca jumped out of her chair as soon as Angela's hand touched her tit. According to the contract, it wasn't official until Angela touched Rebecca in an obviously sexual manner. That counted. Falling to her knees, Rebecca blew a breath of air over Angela's exposed sex and watched as the young woman trembled. Then she fastened her lips over Angela's exposed clit and mercilessly attacked it, licking, sucking and nibbling simultaneously. Then she inhaled it deeply as she felt her cunt AND asshole fill with latex. The micro-pores oozed lubricant freely. Rebecca felt her orgasm make a passing swipe at her senses. She tried not to flinch

Both women were working at a frenzied pace. With each lick, suck and twist they came closer to their own personal Heaven. Angela literally couldn't take it any more. At that instant, she felt Rebecca slide two fingers into her clenching asshole. Throwing her head back, Angela opened her mouth to scream. No sound came out, however. Her orgasm had robbed her voice... as well as all of her senses. She knew she was experiencing her first real mind-blowing orgasm. She also knew it was more than she could take. She saw her body twitching, then watched as it faded into nothingness.

Rebecca savored her triumph with a truly spectacular orgasm. Her cunt rippled around the invading dildo, which pounded into her regardless of how tight she gripped it. The dildo no only scrapped her G-spot relentlessly, but it also kept banging at the entrance to her cervix. The dildo in her ass began to grow warm, and the lube was being forced out of the tip, simulating an exploding cock in her asshole. Rebecca let the sensations sweep her away, groaning with every pulse. Even the dripping cum felt soothing as it flowed down her legs. She was going to pass out.

She did.

* * * *

Angela woke up in a bed. That was her first clue that she'd passed out. The second was the smell of soap. Someone had taken care to actually give her a bath after... Remembering the torrid sex session with Rebecca electrified every nerve on her flesh. It was the most unexpected and erotic thing she'd ever done. And that was just her first day on the job!! She rolled out of bed, noticing that she was naked. She started to look around for something to wear, then decided against it. If this was going to be her new home, she was going to walk around naked as much as possible. One fantasy down... so many more to go. And Rebecca would undoubtedly help her any way possible.