The Crystal Palace Ch 11 12

The Crystal Palace

by Simon Underfoot

Copyright 2024; all rights reserved

Chapter 11

"Wait, which one's Jenny?"

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. It was almost certain Mia was giving me shit, but I definitely deserved it. "Jenny's just a good friend. Sara's my... girlfriend."

"Wasn't Madison your girlfriend?" Having Kristine pile on didn't help.

Long, pained sigh. I looked between the two. "It's complicated. The main point is that nothing at work is going to change. You," I said, pointing at Kristine, "are still my assistant and I will still happily, gleefully fuck you whenever we have time. And you, Troublemaker," I added, looking to Mia, "are still my work girlfriend, and if you don't stop giving me a hard time, I'm going to bend you over my knee."

Her grin wasn't remorseful in the least, though she only held it for a long moment before turning a bit more serious. "And they're okay with the situation -- Kristine and I -- being intimate with you?"

Nod. "They both work here as accountants so they're well aware of what happens in the elevator and elsewhere, and I guess Madison already told them about the two of you. We talked about it and they weren't concerned."

"Unbelievable," Mia replied with a shake of her head. "Well, hopefully they're a little more... stable... than Madison."

The urge to defend my ex welled up, but Mia wasn't entirely incorrect. "Regardless, it's time to get to work. What's next?"

Kristine pulled a folder from her case and handed it to me. "Jessie Willitz with Beck Consulting."

I nodded, recalling the key points from my previous read-through. "You don't sound as enthusiastic as you did before."

"Her assistant has been running interference for more than a week. The only reason I actually got to her is because I went around the schmuck." Raised eyebrows on my part and she smiled at her little victory. "My mother and her are members at the same club."

"Well done," I said warmly, rising and giving her a lingering kiss, into which she melted. We smiled at each other for a minute or so, waiting to see if she'd gotten enough.

Her cheeks flushed a bit, but it didn't seem to be spreading. "A little more?" she asked coquettishly, fluttering her lashes at me.

"Anytime," I responded, moving to kneel at her side. "You're pretty amazing -- you know that, right? Not just beautiful, but smart, capable, aggressive. I couldn't do any of this without you."

She looked away as she blushed.

I'd come to believe that others' expectations for her had been so high throughout her life that Kristine found it difficult to believe she was actually doing a good job at anything. She still wasn't adept at receiving compliments, but it seemed she was starting to accept that I meant what I said.

"Whatever you want, just ask. You've more than earned it." Her eyes darted to Mia, then away quickly, as if she'd been caught with the candy jar. My nurse had noticed and was looking back, intrigued.

Rather than explain aloud, Kristine leaned closer and whispered directly into my ear. I couldn't help but grin. It seemed I was finally going to break in some of the room's other features.

"Do you know what to do?" Mia whispered, looking a little nervous.

I shook my head, but was having trouble concentrating on anything except our stunning Kristine stretched out, nude, against the wooden cross. Fully Affected thanks to a healthy dose straight from the source, milk was dripping from her left breast -- the right hadn't gotten the memo yet -- and she was so aroused it looked like she was peeing down her leg. Flushed from top to bottom, her head was lolling listlessly from one side to the other. "Just do what Phoebe McIntyre does -- be firm... be dominant."

Mia rolled her eyes, but was obviously hot as well, though not due to my pheromones. She looked through the various instruments, finally settling on a three foot long crop tipped with a bit of leather, which looked like the kind of thing you'd use on a race horse. I shuddered a little, then shivered when I remembered it was for Kristine.

The first flicks were tentative and didn't receive much of a response from Kristine in her inebriated state. A hard flick to the uncooperative tit drew a sharp gasp, a spurt of fluid, and a long moan. Mia grinned wickedly and looked back at me and I felt my jaw drop at how astonishingly sexy she looked. My cock lurched and the trickle picked up a bit; Mia licked her lips unconsciously, squeezed her own nipple for half a dozen seconds, gave a full body shake, and turned back to her borrowed pet.

Sharp smacks were soon sounding regularly as Mia gained confidence. One landing directly on Kristine's labia caused a harsh scream and a pulse of pussy juice onto the floor -- Mia returned to the spot frequently thereafter.

Within ten minutes my assistant was a mess of red marks. "Please," she sobbed raggedly. The first time she'd voiced the word, Mia and I had rushed to take her down, but Kristine fought us, making it clear that wasn't what she wanted. We asked for clarification, reassured, cajoled. The issue was that she hadn't been able to vocalize more than that word, though she'd said it several times.

"Do you want Joe?" Mia asked.

Kristine's mouth worked soundlessly, her plump lips inviting as they pursed and parted. My nurse turned to me, frustrated and helpless, then froze. "Mia..." It was barely a whisper, but we both heard it.

A moment of indecision, then Mia was in motion, capturing those amazing lips in her own. Both women groaned, losing themselves to one another. A minute later Kristine made an inhuman noise and her whole body spasmed as more fluid rocketed out of her sex to impact the floor. A final heave, another heroic scream, and she collapsed against the restraints. It was only as Mia backed away that I saw she'd been fucking Kristine's twat with the handle of the crop. "Help me get her down," my nurse said urgently.

Less than a minute later we had our young friend laid out on the bed. "Is she okay?"

"Just passed out," Mia answered with relief, settling back. She'd checked Kristine's breathing, pulse, even the dilation of her eyes -- having a medical professional at hand really was a great idea.

"Good job, I guess." Another eye roll, but I could tell Mia wasn't displeased, realizing for herself that taking someone to the point of sexual overload was an absolute rush. "Your turn?"

"Oh, God, yes," she almost begged, shucking her clothes, which had still been on for some reason.

Several minutes into our rut I felt a hand on my shoulder as Kristine came to. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but was mostly out of it, still Affected since her out-of-body experience hadn't been caused by my juice for once. "Take care of her," Mia slurred, but I had a better idea. I sped up, hammering into my work girlfriend, who gasped and dug her nails into my traps. "Fucking... take... it," I growled, grinding my pelvis into hers as I unloaded, seeing flashes of light, feeling blood rush to my head, trying to keep from passing out too soon.

Gasp for breath, blink my eyes. I rolled off of a now spasming Mia, just aware enough to grab Kristine's hair and pull her roughly downward, planting her face into our partner's sodden snatch. I smiled at seeing her quick tongue start to lap up my used juice.

I stopped fighting and let the darkness take me.

- - -

"Hey, Joe -- that you?" Mia called from behind her curtain.

"Yeah, Trouble, what's up?"

A swish of rings and she came out, pensive frown sprawled across her lips. "Madison and your old boss stopped by while you were out."

My hand paused where it was on the back of my chair. An indeterminate span later I found myself sitting with no recollection of having done so. Mia was looking at me, concerned, so I started to make an excuse, then stopped. She knew me, cared for me; there was no reason to be circumspect. "Don't worry, Mia, it just caught me off-guard -- I thought I was done with them. Did they say what they wanted?"

She nodded and held out a sealed envelope. "We chatted for about twenty minutes, but it would be better if you read the letter. Madison said it's all in there."

I was tempted not to accept it, but that would have been petulant, and it wasn't Mia's fault she'd been made into a messenger. I set it aside and looked back to her. "Anything else?"

Narrowed eyes, pursed lips, then she accepted my change of topic and sat on the edge of my desk. "How was lunch?"

"Productive." Her brows went up and I smiled. "Jessie Willitz is interesting, different than the typical executives we've been dealing with. She's more... I don't know, quiet, but not reserved."

"Have a follow-up date back here?"

"Not yet," I chuckled. "She asked me to price out a few options and get back to her. We have another lunch meeting next week."

"You should take Kristine -- maybe seeing somebody she knows will help."

A good idea and my assistant was immediately on-board. Scheming ensured.

When the time came, we walked into the restaurant a little early and found our prospective client already waiting for us. Short in stature, petite in features, the brunette was dressed in a more casual suit than our first rendezvous, tan with an off-white blouse. She seemed surprised at Kristine's inclusion, but only momentarily and the greetings were smoothly completed.

"How are you, Jessie?" I asked as we were led toward our table.

"Well, thank you," she replied, "though I'll admit that I'm intrigued to find an old acquaintance's daughter joining us," she said as we sat. "I was led to believe that a portion of our negotiations would be of a more... personal nature."

Kristine's expression remained neutral, but I smirked. "Entirely understandable." I leaned forward a little, just an inch or two to make an impression. "The truth is, she's the brains in the outfit -- rewrote the proposal herself." I relaxed and picked up the menu, now smiling. "She's also phenomenal in bed." I avoided making eye contact, but I heard Kristine's breath hitch next to me. Another fifteen or twenty seconds studying the lunch offerings, then I looked up to find Jessie staring speculatively at my assistant, whose flushed cheeks gave voice to her thoughts on being examined.

A sly grin worked its way over Jessie's features. "She's good, you say?"

"Exceptional... if you happen to like beautiful, intelligent, bisexual women who are just as happy to bottom as they are to top."

"Joe--" Kristine objected, fidgeting in her seat.

"And she's part of the offering." Not a question from the woman.

"Not typically, but if you insist..."

Now it was Jessie leaning forward. "I most definitely insist." Her sly grin had become that of a wolf. "Look at me, Sweetheart." Kristine's eyes slowly rose and they stared at each other for more than a minute before Jessie finally eased off. "You're the very image of your mother." She turned to me and I held out our revised proposal.

It was a bit tense for the couple minutes it took for her to peruse the details; when she looked up again her expression was shrewd. "These numbers are higher than what you quoted me last time -- that's not how negotiations work."

I set another folder on the table. "This is the proposal that doesn't include Kristine." I turned to my assistant and found her leaning back against the seat with folded arms, pushing up her tits and biting her lip; her eyes were focused intently on Jessie. Another silent exchange and the woman laughed.

"You better be as good as advertised, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am," Kristine replied demurely, at which Jessie laughed again, louder this time. Patting the seat next to her, she said, "Get over here, girl, and talk with me." The two spent the rest of lunch gossiping about lord-knows-what and drinking expensive wine that I was only too happy to pay for given the value of the contract we'd just closed.

I called a car service to take Jessie home while I shepherded Kristine, who was almost too tipsy to walk. She was a bit better by the time I ushered her through the front door of her apartment, but was still in the giggly phase. "Half a million dollars, Joe."

"What about it?"

"That's what I'm worth," she boasted. "I've gotta be the most expensive whore in the world." She seemed thrilled.

'Not even in my league,' I thought, but said instead, "Are you sure you're okay with this arrangement?"

"It was my idea, wasn't it? God, I'm so wet. Get over here and fuck me already." She was in the process of pushing down her skirt and leaning over the arm of her very expensive looking couch.

There was no use arguing with drunk Kristine, nor did I really want to, but I did divert to the bathroom to grab half a dozen towels while unbuttoning my shirt.

Good thing, too, because she was soon leaking all over the floor and sofa while I pounded into her from behind. Following a hunch, I slapped her ass, not hard, but enough to create a satisfying crack and an answering yip from Kristine. I mixed them in, every third or fourth thrust, to keep her guessing.

When she started to cum I pushed all the way forward, grinding my cock against her too shallow cervix while my thumbs massaged the sensitive muscle around her asshole, which had the audacity to keep winking at me. I wasn't violating her, but was close enough to simulate a gentle push and pull, giving her extra sensation without penetration, a trick I'd learned from Sara.

Spent, she slumped forward and tried to crawl over the arm and onto the cushions; lacking the strength, she began to slide backward. I stopped her descent and lifted, pulling her tight to my chest while I walked toward what I assumed was her bedroom. She managed a grateful smile before she drifted off, relaxed and stunningly pretty in her slumber.

Before leaving I cleaned up the mess on and around the couch, threw the towels in the laundry, drew her a glass of water and found a bottle of ibuprofen...

"Joe?" She looked up at me from between sleepy lids as I set the hangover remedy on her bedside table.

"Sleep, Gorgeous," I said, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

She smiled and turned to her side, not really awake. "Love you."

It sent a jolt through me. I thought about it all the way home.

I thought about it the next day as I plugged a cute little redhead from the finance division on the elevator.

I thought about it as Jessie Willitz fingered Kristine's pussy and bum while eating her out, even as my own cock banged around inside the older woman's sloppy cunt. "Mother fucker!" I roared, emptying myself.

Breathing deeply, I fell back onto my ass as I watched Jessie come apart.

"Finally," Kristine muttered with relief as she pushed the older woman onto her side, then back. "I must be spoiled Joe -- she's really damn good, but nothing's like cumming on your cock." The wink she shot me spun my arousal right around, so that as she squatted over our now semi-unconscious client and wiggled her ass at me, I was almost hard enough to start again. I slid in easily, aroused as she was, while Kristine dipped her head to recover my first load from our new client's quim.

The feeling of being inside a beautiful, intelligent, bisexual woman that might love me was intoxicating. Feeling my balls slide back and forth across a lovely millionaire's face as our mixed juices dripped down was extra spice that had me ready to blow much faster than should have been the case.

"Kristine --"

"Fuck, Joe!" she screamed as her climax hit, coaxing my own to join in the fun.

God bless Mia for being there promptly or we might have crushed poor Jessie. As it was, I recovered enough after a couple minutes to help clean up the two ladies and put them into bed together before making my way over for an IV.

"Joe?" Mia wasn't frantic, but she looked incredibly turned on.

"Yeah, okay," I acquiesced with a smile, closing my eyes. Her lips found my dick seconds later, still slick with Kristine's wetness. I relaxed into the blowjob, letting the sensations flow through me. When I came it was a softer release, apropos because I wasn't fully hard, but it didn't save Mia from collapsing with her own juice-induced orgasm.

Unhooking myself, I wiped Mia down and carried her over to sleep it off with the other two.

- - -

"Nervous?"

I paused in the process of finishing the knot on my tie. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I've never even been in a courtroom before." Mia nodded as Kristine took over, brushing my hands aside so she could finish the Full Windsor.

It felt weird to be intentionally advertising my Affliction to a jury, but that was kind of the point: expert witness for the prosecution. I didn't really want to be put on the stand to be heckled by some scumbag lawyer whose client was unquestionably guilty-as-fuck, but there were a lot of reasons I'd agreed.

The first and most significant was that I wanted to support Madison. She was one of fourteen women who had brought sexual assault charges against Dr. Alfred Septus Marx, he of the faux pheromones. Scumbag that he is, when he'd failed to take advantage of Madison after dosing her, he'd tried on his own secretary, one Vivienne Kwo. Thinking there was something wrong with his latest batch, he'd doubled the concentration, which had put Ms. Kwo in a state of semi-euphoria where higher functions were completely overriden. After depositing two loads of cum, he'd left her covered and asleep (so he thought) on the couch in his office, only to find she hadn't moved the following morning.

Medical training kicked in and he realized her breathing was labored, blood pressure was barely discernible, and her pupils were entirely unresponsive to light. Enter the moral quandary: to let her die and be charged with murder or to take her to the hospital and have the secret of his fake pheromones exposed before he was ready. Keep in mind that being charged with rape hadn't even entered his sick mind.

As a well-respected member of the medical community, Marx chose a third option: lie. Consequently, it wasn't until Ms. Kwo finally came out of her semi-coma four days later that part of the truth was revealed, and by that time, her former boss was on a hastily pulled together international tour though he'd only just returned from the previous.

It was much later, with Madison's note, that I learned any of this.

Dear Joe,

I hope you're doing well.

You may not believe it, but I miss you terribly. I miss us.

Jill and I have become closer since that last night. We talk a lot about what happened. Why you left. Why you kicked us out of your life.

We're sorry.

For myself, I can only say that I wanted you to feel a little of what I felt every time you were with another woman. Someone prettier or smarter or wealthier. It was cruel of me and unworthy of you. I am deeply sorry.

Even so, I need to ask something of you.

I've brought charges against Dr. Marx, the asshole that tried to rape me. Not surprisingly, I wasn't the first or last woman he assaulted. He fled the country shortly after our meeting, selling his recipe to awful people around the world. It was only when he was passing through the Paris airport that he was apprehended by Interpol, then extradited back here. For what it's worth, the DA said he will be locked in a hole with no windows until the trial, which does make me feel better, even if she's exaggerating.

It turns out that I'm the only one of the victims who has been with someone who's Afflicted. My ability to describe the difference between his chemicals and the real thing is apparently really important to the prosecution's case, which is where you come in. They'd like you to describe how you helped me get his concoction out of my system. I know this will put you in an awkward position and that you still hate me, but I think it's important that Dr. Marx spends the rest of his life in prison.