The Taming of Drew

Drew eased her Silver Mitsubishi 3000 GT into the parking garage next to her red car of the same make. Sitting with the motor idling for a few moments, she took a couple of more drags off her Sampoerna Extra before flicking it out the window onto the concrete floor. Swinging her mini-skirted legs out the door, she nimbly crushed the still glowing butt without breaking stride while briskly setting off towards the mansion. No time like the present. This was the day that she told that type-A nerd husband of hers the way things were. She was tired of his constantly working and leaving her all alone. The fact that his fortune allowed her to gather lots of toys such as the two brand new vehicles in the garage didn't begin to assuage her loneliness and bitterness. She had been just an Idaho ranch girl when she met and married Bill straight out of college. He was just setting up his Internet Service Provider business then. Even from the start he seemed more devoted to work than her, but she had made allowances because she felt that one day when he was a success they would both be able to settle back and enjoy the fruits of their labors. Well, that had been ten years and roughly fifty billion dollars ago. Bill Westart was one of the world's richest men, and he still ignored his petite blonde buxom little wife to spend late nights and weekends at work.

At first she had started having petty affairs and flings in the hopes that it might spark his jealousy or interest. Later on, she had continued them because they were her only emotional solace from being the trophy wife of the CEO of Westart International, the number one ISP in the country. Instead of piquing his interest, all that happened was that Bill seemed to withdraw further into his work, starting a vicious circle whereby Drew just got wilder and wilder. From pool boys and maintenance men she quickly graduated to young executives and rock star wannabes, all of whom revolved around the circle of her husband's company. After discovering that she couldn't have children, the affairs became her main reason for being, while her husband's simply seemed to be his company.

She decided that she could live with the company as a mistress, as long as that was her only competition for the man that it seemed that she couldn't have. And so things went for a while, but not forever. One day she decided that she might try to go by work and surprise him for lunch, a thing that he used to enjoy in their earlier married days, even as he complained about the lost time and productivity. She had quit soon after that, both out of hurt that he complained and because of her growing interest in her own new affairs. Drew could never quite ease her guilty conscience however, and occasionally she would still try to reach out to Bill in small ways, which usually backfired and left them both hurt and angry. In a good mood brought on by her early morning tennis workout both on and off the court with Jean Claude, her French pro, Drew arrived at the office with a bag of hamburgers, Bill's favorite even after all the fame and money of the last few years. Still casual of dress and manner, at times his boyishness was endearing and refreshing, even if she couldn't stomach fast food or 24-hour breakfast restaurants, his other type of favorite fine dining establishment. She was in for a surprise, however, when she arrived at the outer suite to Bill's office.

"He's left the office and didn't say when he would be back or where he was going," Ms. Peavis, the office matron told her. She didn't look too happy when she said this, but Drew simply put it down to Ms. Peavis distaste for the boss's cheating wife. Drew's ways were known to those close to Bill, and not surprisingly, their loyalty went to the man who signed their hefty paychecks, especially those who had been with him from the early beginnings of the company, as had Ms. P.

"That's OK," Drew said, relieved in a way that she wouldn't have to go through on her intended reaching out gesture. "I'll just pop in and say hi to Melinda." Melinda Snow was Bill's personal secretary, and surprisingly one of the few in his inner office who remained friendly to her. The two were roughly about the same age and temperament, although Melinda was a sleek sensuous brunette, in contrast to the buxom blond Drew. Both came from rural backgrounds to the big city, and Drew had actually gotten to know Melinda pretty well from regular contact and business social functions in the five years that she had been her husband's secretary. A bright girl who had divorced her own abusive husband a year ago, Melinda was every body's confidant, every one's friend. Drew liked her.

"She's gone too." It was impossible to miss the cruel gleam in Ms. P's eyes. "With Mr. Westart, he left word that he couldn't be paged or called, even on his cell phone." She sat triumphantly, waiting for Drew's reaction.

She wasn't going to get it. "Well, then I'm sure it's important, although if I need him I'll call our personal pager." Bitch. "Take care, Ms. P, there are some burgers in the bag if you or anyone else in the office are hungry." And I hope you choke on them, as I shove them up your ass and out that evil mouth of yours, she mentally added. Idly Drew wondered on the way out if it was worth it to her to turn up the torture on Bill until she could get him to can the old creep. Probably not. He was notoriously kind to staff, and she herself tended to not be vindictive unless cornered. But she did make a note to be sure to send a couple of sizes too small next Christmas for dear old Ms. B, oops, make that P.

Unfortunately though, the intended arrow had struck home. Why are they off together in the middle of the day, she wondered. Surely Mr. Computer discs-for-gonads isn't cheating on me! He has me at home if he wants sex, and that's one reason I started cheating on him, he's never interested, she mused. Unless of course, he was interested in friendly tall brunettes who pay attention to him. Suddenly a light dawning like the sun's first rays over Mount Olympus hit Drew square in the forehead. No, they couldn't be. Melinda's too nice for that, a voice told her. A competing voice responded, it's the nice ones you have to watch out for with Bill, he doesn't like sluts. A cold chill suddenly went through her. How does he see me now, she thought.

The drive home had given her time to reconsider the situation and she had almost persuaded herself that nothing was wrong, until she tried to page him on his personal cellphone. No answer. Not even with 911 dialed in, their universal signal for emergency. Miserably she went directly to the wine cellar after arriving home, grabbing a bottle of the choicest before going to the large living room to drown her sorrows.

Hours later, when Bill did come home, he blithely brushed aside her questions and concern. "I forgot to put a damn battery in, no problem, what was the emergency? Melinda and I had to go over for a face to face with old man Hart." Mr. Jonathan Hart was the Chairman of the Board of Apex-Lawler, the huge conglomeration that had merged with Westart Industries a few years ago, adding their media might to the growing on line presence and necessitating the name change to Apex-Lawler Westart International.

One of their main problems had always been a failure to communicate. "Nothing big," she murmured. "I just brought you lunch. I thought it would be nice to see each other for a change." Instead of petulantly tossing off her complaint, he smiled and did something he had never done before. "That was a good idea, honey. Why don't we try it tomorrow?" Refusing to let him have his victory, she vollied back, "I'm busy tomorrow." And instantly regretted it. Shit. Why does he make me feel this way, she thought. All I ever wanted was a husband to do things with and raise a family together. Bill, refused to take the bait in a good-natured way which was even more exasperating than if he had fought about it, replied "Maybe another day soon, then," and left the room.

That had been two months ago, and since that time it had become very obvious that Bill had other reasons for working late than his boring obsession with expanding the net worldwide. Drew had at first denied it to herself, but the fact that two could play the cheating game really hurt her. That her husband was cheating on her with a woman that she had actually considered a friend made the wound that much harder to bear. Tennis lessons with Jean Claude became more frequent and rougher, even as they lost some of their luster. Drew had always been one to supress her feelings until she exploded in anger, and this morning that point had finally been reached. After having discovered that Jean Claude had apparently stood her up for her morning workouts, she became enraged after receiving a message that Bill was home packing for an extended business trip to the northeast. A quick call confirmed her suspicions that Melinda might be going along. Drew sped out of the country club parking lot in such a fury that two landscapers had had to leap out of the way of her Mitsubishi as it burned rubber past their work spot near the gate. Upon arriving home she stormed into the front door, cursing under her breath, ready to lay into Bill, and that slut Melinda too, if she were there with him. The thought of catching them together made her even madder as she charged up the steps towards their bedroom. She'd kick both their asses with her tae-kwan-do trained legs and then sue the sucker for half his fortune. Such were her thoughts as she burst into the bedroom. What she saw stunned her so much that she stopped, momentarily speechless. There, on her huge four poster bed, indeed lay two naked lovers, but it was not the two she had expected. Jean Claude lay there on his back with one of the Hispanic maids, pretty young Maria straddling his huge cock. Maria bounced up and down Jean's engorged member as he firmly gripped her round little ass, helping to time her up and down motions with his lazy thrust. Neither one paid the slightest attention to her. Drew stared in shock for a moment, but before she could make her presence known, a gloved hand suddenly clamped down on her mouth while other hands roughly pulled back her arms. Struggling against this unexpected outrage, it took her a moment to realize that the hand across her face contained a cloth that it was shoving against her nostrils. She shoved down violently with her left heel on an instep behind with all her weight for a second, but the hands were unyielding and simply tightened their grip. She began to breath deeply from the cloth in spite of herself, wavered for a second, then all faded to black.

Slowly Drew returned to consciousness. Her first sensation was of a bright light that hurt her eyes, followed by the realization that she was restrained in some way, her hands bound up above her head separately, while both her feet were stretched out in a sort of v shape, tied to some object. Drew was nothing if not tough. As the realization of her circumstances set in she fought down panic, trying to quickly make an observation of her immediate surroundings. With full consciousness she began to adjust her eyes to the light, while carefully testing her restraints. A voice interrupted her experimentation, "Awake yet, my pet? Good." She focused her eyes on the direction of the voice. It came from somewhere to her right. She thought it was a voice she recognized, but wasn't completely sure. As she turned her head in that direction, a hand descended, sharply, but not too cruelly and lightly slapped her left cheek, "That's for kicking me my dear. I could make that hurt as much as your kick did me, but we'll wait and see how you obey me from this point on. Are you thirsty?"

Without giving her time to respond, the man brought her a small glass of water over to the bed. She could see him clearly now, but didn't recognize him. He wasn't either Jean Claude or Bill, although there was something slightly familiar about him. He was short, almost as short as her petite 5' 3", but stocky, massively muscled across the chest and shoulders. His impassive face was tanned and topped by short blondish hair, sprinkled with silvery gray. His aqua green eyes were magnetic in their impassive way. She lifted her head and took a sip of the water while she tried to process all that was apparent in her situation. She cautiously looked around the room. No one present except Mr. Macho and his water glass. She suddenly realized that she was completely naked, spread eagled with each limb tied to one post of her four poster bed. That this was happening in her own home in broad daylight stunned her for a second. Where was her husband? The domestic help? Flushing with both anger and shame, she thought Jean Claude and Maria – where did they go to? Taking control of herself she looked at the blond man, "Who are you? And what is going on here?" He calmly appraised her for a moment before issuing an answer. "You are out of control. You have made the lives of all those around you miserable, from your husband to your friends to your lovers, not to mention those in your employ here at your own home. It was decided that you require some discipline and consideration for others. I was called in as your trainer, it's one of the things that I do when I am called in to help correct a situation." He stopped, idly took a sip of the water glass himself.

"I … you …" she paused, wondering if this was not a delusion on her part, or whether or not she was in the hands of some type of madman. Where was everyone else? Had he killed them? Was he a mass murderer? What the hell was this? Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, she ventured "Who made this decision?" Instead of answering her, he gazed abstractedly off into space for a few moments, then placing the water on the nightstand, he walked out of the room, ignoring her entreaties. She was left alone with her thoughts, which were not pleasant.

Three hours later, she was seesawing between anger and fear. She needed desperately to go to the restroom, her head hurt, and she was getting hungrier and thirstier. She refrained from screaming, uncertain what it would get her, but her patience was running out when the door from the main hall opened. It was not the blond man, instead it was that traitor Jean Claude. He walked in like nothing had ever happened, like she wasn't tied up and naked on the bed. "How are you today, madam? Are you ready for your lesson today?" No smile, no hint of sarcasm.

It was more than she could take. "YOU FUCK!," she screamed. "Are you insane? You and your little friends are going to be so far under the jail after this that you'll be able to dig your way to China with a spoon." Ignoring her, he stopped, reached under the bed and brought out a bedpan? "Do you need to use the bathroom?" She just looked at him. "Surely you don't mean …" His response was crisp, "You have not yet achieved enough self control for us to remove your restraints, until you do, you will stay in this bed. If you do not obey, you will simply be allowed to foul yourself until you act appropriately. Do you understand?" She could only stare, still unable to believe that this was happening. Familiarity with Jean Claude, her sometime lover and usually compliant tennis pro, led her to react with more anger than she would have if a stranger had been the one speaking to her this way. "Listen you piece of merde," she began, "untie me right now and I won't press charges. Otherwise you are going to rue this day for a long time."

Jean Claude casually reached down and slapped her face, just as the blond man had done, only harder. This only unleashed a new torrent of obscenity, so he casually took a t-shirt from one of her drawers and stuffed it into her mouth, roughly tying it round her head so that she could not speak or spit it out. He then took one of her restraints on her ankles and deftly untied it. Deftly pulling her leg up so that her bottom was exposed sideways, he took his right hand and began to spank her, hard with the palm of his hand. His muscular arm seemed tireless as he rhythmically swatted her ass. At first she tried to twist away in fury and then in pain, but all that happened was that his grip tightened and the spankings came quicker and harder. Tears sprang from her eyes, as muffled screams came from the makeshift gag in her mouth. After a good ten minutes Jean Claude released her, not even bothering to retie the ankle. He then left the room, in as casual a manner as he had sauntered in earlier.

Several hours later, it was a subdued Drew who awoke to see Maria placing a cool washcloth on her face where Jean Claude's slap still burned. Her ass cheeks burned even worse. "Is madam awake?" she asked. Drew, all passion spent, and about to pee in her (non-existent) pants could only nod meekly. "Good" was the response. "I will untie your ropes and take you to the bathroom, but you must promise not to be bad." Staring in wonder, Drew only nodded an affirmation again. Smiling, the young buxom black haired beauty began to untie her, first her gag, then her arms, then her legs. Helping the unsteady Drew to her feet, she assisted her to the bathroom, whereupon she began to run a bath in the jacuzzi. Too worn out to be embarrassed at the situation, Drew relieved herself, then allowed Maria to place her in the bath. Casually the young maid disrobed and climbed in behind her. Taking a bar of soap and a rag Maria began to wash her back while lifting up her hair from her shoulders.

"You have a lovely neck madam, you should wear more necklaces or scarves to show it off." Getting no response from her exhausted mistress, Maria shrugged, then continued laving soap and water down Drew's back towards the small. Satisfying herself that the back was clean, she then casually but deliberately slid her hands around to the front, cupping Drew's plump breasts. Instead of laving soap on she began to pinch both of Drew's nipples, paying especial attention to the left one, which had always been inverted. Against Drew's mumbled half-hearted protests the young maid continued her caressing and pulling until both nipples stood erect and proud against her hands. Drew had known Maria for a meek little domestic, but obviously her maid was quite experienced sexually. Continuing to caress her mistress's full breasts and flat stomach Maria whispered sweet seductive sounds in Drew's ears, telling her how gorgeous and hot she was. Drew had never had an experience with another girl or woman, but she had once espied two other girls 69ing on a camping trip once, and the curious heat that voyeuristic experience had sparked in her had never quite gone away. Drew found herself, despite all the horrors of what had happened to her in the last 24 hours, feeling an intense excitement in her loins. Instead of resisting, she found herself eager for Maria's touch. As if sensing her arousal the young nubile maid abruptly plunged her hands downward towards Drew's hips. There she found her mistress's thighs parted expectantly for her questing, probing fingers. Already slick from the soapy bath water, Drew's pussy lips opened up like the petals of a flower greeting the sun. Abandoning all pretense of modesty or shame, she leaned back against Maria's pert but perfect breasts, while arching her hips towards the maids wicked, yet oh so sweet fingers. As she did so, she spread her legs obscenely wide so that Maria, without missing a beat, could cleverly insert two fingers right up into Drew's now sopping wet cunt, while beginning to manipulate the exposed clitoris with her other hand. As Drew pressed back into her arms, Maria sighed and began to kiss her mistress's neck and shoulders with wet open mouthed kisses, tightening her arms around Drew's waist at the same time so as to better manipulate her lover's mound. Wantonly Drew began to moan and buck her hips back and forth, pressing her self against the sweet maid's insistent, quite knowing fingers. Unbelievably quickly Drew felt herself falling over the edge towards an orgasm. Sensing this, Maria kissed and sucked and nibbled at her neck even more passionately, as she pumped her fingers and rubbed Drew's hard clit with her thumb furiously. Had she wished to, Drew could not have escaped the nasty young maid's tender grip, but such was not Drew's intention. Spasm after spasm followed as Drew cried out wordlessly in her orgasm. Maria furiously continued her finger fucking and neck kissing while holding tight with her surprisingly powerful arms. As Drew came for the second time she began to wonder at how much she enjoyed the feeling of being dominated by the young Latin beauty.