I had received an e-mail from Ms. Thorne summoning me her office. I noted that the meeting was set to occur on Thursday afternoon, the same time that Emily had told me she usually summoned Ashley and I wondered if it was coincidence. I couldn't help but be nervous as I approached the big oak door and knocked. I tried to keep it confident and forceful but my hand still trembled slightly as I twisted the knob and pushed the heavy door open.
"Ms. Thorne, you asked to see me?" I said in a voice that I was glad didn't crack with nervous tension.
"Yes Mr. Walters. Take a seat." She replied without looking away from the laptop she was working at.
I noticed that the original paired leather armchairs that had been there before were pushed against the wall and instead there was a simple straight backed, armless chair set directly across from her desk. I sat as instructed, wiggling slightly in the hard seat as I tried to figure out what to do with my arms. She ignored me completely and I finally settled with my hands in my lap as my back strained to keep my posture upright against the rigid chair.
After a few minutes she closed the laptop and turned her cold blue eyes on me. She clasped her hands and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the leather desk blotter. I noticed that her hair was done in the usual bun at the back of her head, but a few stray locks had fallen out to brush her shoulders. Her eyes bored into me from behind dark lashes and perfectly applied eyeliner and shadow. The moment stretched on forever and I couldn't help but squirm under her predatory gaze. What had I done?
"I understand that you had an interaction with another member of our organization recently?" She asked in a clipped tone.
I hesitated, how did she find out? My mind raced as I remembered what had happened when George had brought Farah over last weekend. I couldn't think of anything that we had done wrong or was against the rules.
"Yes, George and Farah came over to my place. She and Lilly had sex, just like they had done the first night we were at your house."
She rose up from her chair, her hands pushing herself up off of her desk like a bird of prey launching itself off of a branch. I couldn't help but notice how incredible she looked. Her jacket was hung on a hook in the corner, so she was wearing a dark blue silk shirt that was undone just one button beyond professional. She had a necklace with a glittering pendant that hung just above the cleavage that peeked out from the open neck of her blouse, drawing the eye whether I wanted to or not. She strode around from behind her desk and moved in front of where I sat. She leaned back, her strong mature ass resting on the edge of the polished wood. She was wearing a dark skirt that was hemmed a couple of inches above her knee and some calf high leather boots with heels. Everything about her screamed sophisticated with more than a hint of sultry, but she also seemed to dare you to say anything about it.
She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at me. I craned my neck up to meet her imperious gaze, my back pressing uncomfortably against the rigid back of the chair while I pushed with my legs to keep from slipping off of the seat. Shit, I hadn't felt this awkward since the seventh grade.
"Mr. Walters." She said disdainfully. "The other members of our group have their, 'limitations' if I may use that term. While this is not the social circle I would choose to associate with, especially given the circumstances, but it is these circumstances that bring us together."
I could see her gleaming nails flickering as they flexed against the dark material of her blouse. The smell of her perfume wafted into my nose, sharp but musky and I couldn't help myself as my dick began to stiffen in my pants. I squirmed in my seat again, trying to hide the bulge of my now semi rigid cock. Wait a minute, 'other members'? Limitations?
"I'm sorry Ms. Thorne, did I do something wrong?" I asked quietly, looking up at her like a boy caught climbing on the counter reaching for the cookie jar.
"Miss Khomeni has significant psychological issues, issues that result in limitations regarding her 'use'. You have been made well aware of these issues and the restrictions that they impose on anyone who choses to interact with her." She snapped angrily, her cold blue eyes suddenly alight with a fire I had never seen before.
"But, but we didn't...I mean neither of us touched her." I stammered, flinching back and raising my hands protectively despite the fact that she hadn't moved a muscle.
She snorted in disgust. "No, you didn't. But what you did do came very close to crossing that line and what Mr. Jefferson did most definitely did."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, shit fuck! Banging Lilly from behind while she and Farah were in their 69 had been such at turn on that I didn't even think about what could happen if anyone found out. Sure, I hadn't touched Farah, but I knew full well what her issues were with men and my cock had been barely inches from her face. Combine that with what George did to her by smearing his cum on her face and I can't blame her for running to Ms. Thorne or at least telling one of the other girls.
"This arrangement that you have become a part of has existed for years and to the benefit of many members of the staff here. Your reckless and juvenile behavior is exactly the kind of unnecessary risk that could put everything in jeopardy." She continued, her voice like a whip against my ears. "I expected something like this from Mr. Jefferson, the man is barely literate. I also expected more from you."
"I, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be that bad." I stammered. "I made sure never to touch her or attempt to force myself on her in any way. I didn't feel comfortable stopping George, he has been doing this longer than I have and.."
"Mr. Jefferson has been dealt with, do not try to use his behavior to absolve yourself of guilt. I expected much better of you Mr. Walters." She snapped.
Wait a minute, that was the third time she had complimented me, kind of. Stating that I was better than the other members of the group, that she expected more from me for some reason. Hell, George was a bigoted idiot, Sarah was a crude bull dyke and Chuck was a fat slob. All of them were so far out of her league that it was laughable that she would associate with them at all.
I looked up at her again, trying to ignore my racing heart and the sweat that beaded on my forehead. She was standing there like a queen, no, an Amazonian empress lording over a pathetic man who had failed her. Her arms were crossed but I could see how her chest rose and fell with her breath, maybe that button had been left undone on purpose. Her feet were planted firmly on the floor, but her legs were spread a little wider than necessary causing her skirt rode up the outside of her thighs as a result. Her eyes were still cold fire, but her lips were parted and glistening. Shit, she was horny.
I dropped my chin like a shamed schoolboy. "I'm sorry Ms. Thorne. I didn't think it would be a problem, I thought I was following the rules."
She snorted in response. "You men, always thinking with your cocks instead of your brains. Once one gets hard the other gets soft." She opened a decorative wooden box on her desk and pulled out a collar and short leash. I recognized it, it was Ashely's collar.
"Do you know what this means?" She asked in a lecturing tone as she ran her thumb along the smooth leather of the collar in her hand.
"It means that the who wears it belongs to her handler." I answered confidently.
"Wrong!" she snapped and I yelped in surprise and pain. She had picked up a wooden ruler and smacked me hard on the top of the head. Instinctively I surged up from the chair but froze when the end of the ruler pressed firmly against my throat. "Sit down, Mr. Walters."
I held her gaze for a moment, grinding my teeth in the face of her aloof superior expression. She looked down her nose at me, dismissively like a schoolteacher disciplining an unruly child. Who the fuck did she think she was? Then I looked down and saw the button of her blouse straining against her heaving breasts. Her expression may be calm and composed, but inside I was sure she was barely holding it together. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the ruler in a steady hand but I was sure I could hear her tendons creaking. I sat back in my chair, adopting a deflated look as my gaze slid away from her like a cowed dog.
"Sorry Ms. Thorne." I said quietly.
"Good, you can be taught." She replied as the ruler began to tap a steady rhythm against her thigh. "Like so many men, you only see women as things to possess. You think this collar gives you power over them, don't you?"
I nodded, not trusting my temper to get me in trouble again.
"When you put this collar on your charge, you are not taking control, she is giving it to you. Whether they understood it at the time, they accepted this collar willingly."
I thought back to that first evening at her house. Lilly had not been happy about it, but she had not fought me over it either. She had even pulled her hair out of the way to let me buckle it around her neck. Now, she almost looked forward to having it put on and held her head up proudly whenever I had that short leash in her hand. I nodded in agreement, and she gave a small smile of approval at my insight.
"This collar is a symbol of the charge's willing submission to the handler. The leash is the symbol of that control, which is formally passed from one handler to the other ensuring the charge understands exactly who has the authority over them. That is why they are so important and why I insist on their use as part of our arrangement." She continued as she placed the leash and collar on her desk.
"We didn't use them on Lilly or Farah that night? I thought that they were just for when we came to your house." I said and she nodded sternly in response.
