1 comments/ 212383 views/ 33 favorites And That's the Rub By: linkznut Jason stared at Marsha's ass as she leaned over the conference table in her office reviewing the ad layouts they'd been working on. Part of him was admiring her shapely ass, but most of him was still upset over the performance evaluation she'd given him yesterday. Jason was a 23-year-old artist, fresh out of art school, working for a medium size Ad Agency on the west coast. Marsha was the Creative Director he worked under, and it was she who was responsible for reviewing his work and doing his performance evaluations. He'd been with the agency for 3 months now, and had just received his 90-day review yesterday. In a nutshell, she'd told him that he had a real talent, but he wasn't using it. She called him lazy and unmotivated. And she said he needed to be more assertive, more aggressive. Because of his shortcomings, she was withholding any raise, and putting him on probation for 30 days. At the end of that time, they would either talk again, or he'd be let go. And, she wanted him to work tomorrow. There went his Saturday. In spite of his anger, Jason had to admit that Marsha was not at all unpleasant to look at. She was 35 years old, single, and stood about 5'9' tall. Her sandy blonde hair fell to just below her shoulders and had a slight natural wave to it. She looked to be in good shape, like she worked out regularly, and had a nice, healthy bosom. "Jason, can you come here a minute?" she called without looking up. He rose from his desk and walked through the open door to her office, not really in any particular hurry. "What's up?" he asked. "Take a look at these layouts and tell me what you think." Marsha was leaning over the conference table, her left hand resting on the table for support, and her right hand pointing to the layouts in front of her. Jason moved over beside her and leaned over the table. Marsha's position made it difficult for him to get a good look at the layouts without touching her. What the hell, he thought. It wasn't as if she valued him as an employee or anything. He might as well enjoy himself. She was probably going to fire him anyway. He placed his hand on her back and leaned into her shoulder to get a better look. He felt Marsha stiffen up instantly and move a bit to her right. "Wow," he said. "You sure are jumpy, aren't you?" "Never mind me, just tell me what you think of the layouts," she said. But he sensed a nervousness in her voice that wasn't there before. And all he did was touch her! He liked the layout, and he told her so. He thought it was both eye catching and provocative. "How about this one?" she asked moving a little further down the table. Again, he moved down beside her, placed his hand on her back, and leaned into her so he could see the layout better. And again she stiffened up and moved away. But this time, Jason decided he'd really have some fun. After all, he was probably history anyway. He might as well go down swinging. "You need to relax, Marsha," he said. He slid quickly behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Here, this will help some," he said as he began massaging her shoulders. Instantly, Marsha stood up straight. "That's really not necessary, Jason," she said as she tried to step away from him. But the grip on her shoulders was firm, holding her in her place. "Relax, Marsha," he said. "You really need this. You're way to tense." He continued massaging her shoulders as she stood beside the table. Gradually, he could feel her beginning to relax. "How's that feel?" he asked. Immediately, he could feel her tense up again. "That feels good, Jason," she responded, "but it's really not necessary. Please stop." "Nonsense," he replied. "You need it, and I enjoy doing it. So just try to relax." He continued working her shoulders, slowly inching his way to her arms, then back to her neck. He saw her lower her head slightly, and felt her body responding to his massage. Slowly, he again inched his way from her neck, over her shoulders, and down her arms. Only this time, he made sure to "inadvertently" brush the sides of her breasts. He felt her jump slightly at his intrusion, but as soon as he moved his hands back up her arms she relaxed again. Slowly, he repositioned her so she was facing directly at the side of the conference table. The move was so slow, and so gradual, that she hadn't even been aware of it. Gently, he eased her upper body down towards the table top. "Bend over," he said softly, yet firmly. "Then I can really do it right." Marsha felt him pushing her gently towards the table, and she felt her body tense up again. "No," she said. She reached her arms out to the table to support her body. "Please stop." But he continued to massage her, working her tired, aching muscles. Slowly, she felt her body relaxing again. God, but he was good at this, she thought. She couldn't ever remember having a massage that felt so good. She could feel herself giving in, slowly but surely, to the magic in his fingers, as they now moved slowly across her back and down her sides. As he moved back up her back, she felt herself surrender and lower her body to the table. "That's better," Jason said. "Just relax and enjoy it." He continued rubbing her muscles, from her back, to her arms, to her shoulders. When he reached her lower back again, he gently slid his hands under her T-shirt and onto her bare skin. She tensed up slightly, trying to raise herself off the table. "Relax," he said softly, holding her down gently. "I'm in charge now. You just relax and enjoy." Something in the tone of his voice was different, she noted, and as much as she hated to do it, it was time to call a halt to the massage. "That's enough, Jason," she said, trying to raise herself off the table. But Jason held her down, gently but firmly, while his hands still massaged her bare back under her shirt. "I told you to relax and enjoy," he said firmly. He continued to work his hands on her, moving slowly further and further up her back, finally reaching her bra. He could feel the conflict within her as she alternated between relaxing and enjoying the massage, and trying to raise herself off the desk. But the periods of resistance were coming less and less often, and lasting for a shorter and shorter time, until eventually, she lay completely still, moaning softly as he worked her back. Sensing that the time was right, Jason slid his hands down her back, grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt, and began pulling it up her body. Expecting at least some resistance, he was surprised when, instead, she raised her body slightly, making it easier for him to remove the garment. Quickly, he slid the shirt off of her, moved his hands to her bra, unclasped it, and peeled the straps away from her back. He returned his hands to her back, now laid completely bare before him. He continued massaging her thoroughly, over her arms, her shoulders, her neck, and her back. He slid her arms up and away from her body, allowing him better access to her sides, and allowing him to brush the sides of her tits. By now, Marsha was thoroughly absorbed in the pleasure he was giving her. She was aware, albeit barely, that Jason had removed her shirt and undid her bra, and that she had put up no resistance at all. She was also aware of a moistening in her panties as the pleasure he was inflicting on her was slowly but steadily arousing her, and just as steadily wearing away her defenses. After several minutes, she heard his voice. "Roll over." By then, she was so absorbed in the pleasure he was giving that she never hesitated to do as he instructed. She rolled to her back, somehow managing to keep her bra in place over her breasts. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled at her, leaned forward, his groin pressing between her knees, his head hanging over her chest, and began massaging her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes again, and allowed herself to get lost in his sensual massage. Slowly, gently, he moved down her neck to her shoulders and over her shoulders to her arms, taking her bra straps with him as he moved. His movements were so slow and so gentle, that she hardly realized he'd exposed the top half of her breasts. She could feel him pressing his body against her knees, and she could feel his arousal growing. By this point, she knew exactly where he was taking her, though she no longer had the strength, or the desire, to stop him. Jason then moved his hands to her sides, starting at her waist and moving upwards slowly, making certain that every inch of skin got the same attention. At last he reached her bra. He slid his hands under the side straps and continued his massage. Slowly, he began easing his hands towards her breasts. He looked at her face as she opened her eyes. Without changing his pace or direction, he continued the massage. Marsha looked up at him as his hands advanced on her breasts. She kept looking at him as he reached her mounds, as he squeezed and massaged them, and as he pinched their nipples. And she kept looking at him as she raised her arms slightly, allowing him to remove her bra, leaving her naked from the waist up. Jason stood over his boss, gazing into her eyes. Slowly, without diverting his eyes, he leaned forward and replaced his hands on her breasts. He massaged them gently, giving each breast the same thorough attention he'd given the rest of her. It didn't take long before she was moaning softly, her eyes closed, completely absorbed in the massage. He knew that he had her now, and that he was in control. The only question that remained was how long he played out the string. He had to admit that he was thoroughly enjoying the control he had over her; quite possibly even more than she was enjoying the massage. Finally, he decided it was time to move on. He removed his hands and stood over her, waiting. Momentarily, she opened her eyes and gave him a questioning look. He rested his hands on her blue jean covered thighs and squeezed softly. "Should I continue?" he asked. Why she hesitated, she wasn't sure. She didn't have any doubt that she wanted more, that she wanted him to continue. She was so aroused, and so excited, that she could barely control herself. Still, she lay silent, looking into his eyes. Perhaps she hesitated because he was her subordinate, or because he was so much younger than she was. Or perhaps it was because deep down, she knew that if she went forward, she would end up surrendering herself totally to him. Finally, she nodded her head. "Yes." As Jason reached for her jeans and unbuttoned them, Marsha closed her eyes and turned her head to one side, no longer able to look at him. She bit her lip as he lowered her zipper. She felt his fingers trace lightly over her thighs, still clad in blue jeans, and wander slowly downward, not stopping until he was kneeling before her. He took hold of the back of her calf and slid the sneaker from her foot, and then moved both hands to her sock and removed that. He repeated the procedure on the other foot. Still on his knees, staring up her thighs, across her taut stomach and over her heaving breasts, he reached up and grabbed the top of her jeans. "Lift you ass." Marsha hesitated only slightly. Deep inside, she knew that this was her last chance to stop him. But she also knew that she did not want him to stop, that she wanted him to continue, and that she wanted him to take her. Slowly, she raised her ass off the table and he began easing her pants and panties slowly over hips and down her thighs. Slowly, he eased them over the edge of the table and over her knees, before sliding them down her calves and onto the floor. Still unable to look at him, Marsha was surprised when he stayed on his knees and began massaging her right foot as it dangled before him. She heard herself moaning quietly as he gave the foot the same loving care that he'd given the rest of her. She could feel him working his way slowly to her calf, and then up her leg, gently, but firmly kneading her muscles as he went. When he reached her knee, he moved to the other foot and started over. When he reached her other knee, Jason stood up, placing his hands lightly on each knee. He looked down upon the naked woman and smiled. "You're very beautiful, Marsha," he said. She turned her head upright and looked at him, but said nothing. She felt him spread her thighs apart slightly and begin massaging her right thigh. Slowly he kneaded her muscles, working his way ever so slowly upwards. She felt herself spreading her legs wider as he neared her center, and she gasped audibly as his hands brushed lightly against the folds of her pussy. She arched her back, reaching for his hand with her pussy, but the hand was already gone, moved over to the other thigh, and beginning the journey all over again. She looked at him through eyes clouded by the long, slow build up of sexual tension, just begging to be released. She watched him as she felt him moving ever closer to her wanton womanhood. She wanted to scream out at him - Take me! Take me now! - But she kept quiet. And she waited. Finally, he reached her pussy again. But this time, he didn't withdraw. This time, he put a hand on each thigh and spread her legs wider still, completely exposing her neatly trimmed bush. She watched him as he looked at her, his hands painfully close to the center of her passion. He heard her gasp as he touched her clit, as he uncovered it, as he gently stroked her. He watched as her hands grabbed her tits, squeezing them roughly, while she squirmed over the table. He inserted his fingers into her dripping pussy, massaging her from the inside out, as she slowly rolled her head back and forth on the table. He pumped his fingers into her, first in, then out, until she was moaning loudly. Then he bent over and moved his mouth to her clit, sucking on it while his fingers continued to fuck her pussy. He increased the pace as he felt her excitement growing. He continued pounding her as she closed her thighs around his head, as she thrust herself wildly upon him and came. Marsha opened her mouth to scream as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, but no sound came out. She bucked madly on his head and fingers, squeezing him between her thighs with all her strength. And then she collapsed on the table, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. When she finally began to calm down, she opened her eyes to find him standing between her legs. She tried to smile at him, but it was a funny smile, a smile that said she wasn't quite back to the present yet. He smiled back at her. And then he pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She watched him, still gasping somewhat, as he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his legs, but not completely off. And she smiled as she looked upon his cock for the first time, long and thick, and pointed right at her. She watched him as he lifted her legs over his shoulders and eased her body towards him until her ass rested on the edge of the table. And she moaned as he pushed his manhood into her, slowly filling her up with his meat. With his cock buried completely in her pussy, Jason reached down and grabbed her nipples, twisting them in his fingers, pulling on them as he stood motionless above her. "From now on," he said softly, yet forcefully, "you belong to me. Do you understand that?" Marsha lay there, moaning softly as he tugged and pulled on her nipples, his manhood buried in her pussy, motionless. Never before had she been so completely under someone else's control. It was a foreign feeling for her, not one she was used to. But she liked it. No, she loved it. And she'd never been so turned on in her life. She looked at him and nodded her head, clearly indicating that she understood. She was his now, his to do with as he pleased, where he pleased, and when he pleased. "Please fuck me," she said, begging him with her eyes. And fuck her he did. He thrust his meat into her as he tugged on her nipples. He grabbed her ankles from above his shoulders and spread her so she was wide open before him. He continued thrusting his meat at her, in, then out, over and over into her inflamed pussy. He listened to her moans of pleasure as she mauled her tits, and watched as she thrashed wildly upon the table. And then Marsha wrapped her legs around his body like a vice grip, and her orgasm exploded within her. She arched her body, pulling him into her with her legs as he shot his load inside her. And when it was over, he collapsed on top of her as they both struggled to catch their breath. She ran her fingers slowly through his hair, and then gently ran her fingernails over his back. Finally, he stood up, with her legs still wrapped around him. He took her by her shoulders and lifted her body off the table, until her chest pressed against his and her arms wrapped around him. And then they kissed. It was a slow kiss, a soft kiss, so different then the passion that had just engulfed them. Breaking the kiss at last, he set her back down on the table and unwrapped himself from her legs. He bent over and pulled his pants up, before leaning over and grabbing his shirt. "I have an errand to run," he told her in answer to the questioning look on her face. "You wait here, and I'll be back in an hour." He pulled his shirt on, bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips. And then he leaned over and picked up her pants and panties, her T-shirt, and her shoes and socks, tucked them under his arm, and started out the door. He looked back at her, at the look of shock on her face and smiled. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'll be back in an hour." And then he left, closing her office door behind him. * * * Marsha sat there for a second, stunned, not really believing that he'd leave her there without her clothes. Then she dashed for the door, opening it just in time to see Jason walk around the corner. She stared after him for several moments, waiting for him to return. When she heard the bell for the elevator sound faintly in the distance, she closed and locked her office door. "You son of a bitch!" she yelled out loud. Then she caught herself. She needed to be quiet in the event that someone came into the office. It was unlikely this late in the day on a Saturday, but you never knew. She paced her office like a caged animal, unable to sit for more than a moment or two, unable to stand still. She cursed herself for taking her sweater home last month, but she hadn't worn it at work in months. Who knew that she'd end up stranded in her office without a shred of clothing? She looked at the clock every few seconds, wondering why time was standing still, and then she paced some more. * * * After pressing the button to call the elevator, Jason turned around and went back to the employee lounge. The agency took up the majority of the third floor of a six-story office building in the suburbs. There had been two other people in the office that morning, but they'd left hours ago and it was highly unlikely that anyone else would come in now. If they did, however, the lounge was located halfway back to the art department, and anyone heading towards Marsha's office would have to go right past him. Despite appearances, he had no desire to see any harm come to Marsha. He just wanted a small payback for the 90-day review she'd given him. So he sat back on the sofa and grabbed a magazine. And he waited. * * * It had been an hour and 15 minutes since Jason had left her, and still Marsha waited, still she paced the floor of her office. What if he didn't come back, she thought. What would she do then? She thought about calling a friend, but which friend would she want to rescue her in her present state? And how would they get into the building? The doors were always locked on weekends. Who'd let them in? The only people she knew with keys were employees, and that was out of the question. And That's the Rub Ch. 02 Chapter 2 -- Rules of Engagement (Take No Prisoners) Jason's original plan that Saturday evening had been to meet up with some friends and hit the bars. But after his afternoon encounter with his boss, suddenly the bar scene didn't look so appealing. Not even the prospect of hooking up with some hot young babe could get his mind off Marsha Dunn, the 35 year-old boss he'd seduced and fucked earlier that day. It'd certainly started innocently enough; just a bit of Saturday overtime with the boss. He still wasn't quite sure what had come over him -- not even the poor performance evaluation she'd given him the day before totally accounted for his actions. Whatever it was, Jason had seen an opportunity and pounced on it. Without so much as a second thought, he'd proceeded to inflict his will on his superior, a woman 12 years his senior. Oh sure, it had started out gentle enough, even subtle. And of course she'd resisted. But despite her resistance he'd pressed on, continually reaching for more than she was willing to give until finally, all resistance failed. And then he'd toyed with her, even going so far as taking her clothes and stranding her in her office, leaving her with little more than the hope that he'd come back for her. And when he had returned -- an hour and fifteen minutes later -- her reaction was far beyond anything he could have imagined, as she threw herself at him like the horny, ravenous animal she'd become. But the final head game took place afterwards in the parking lot. Despite the fact that she'd clearly wanted more, he'd dismissed her, telling her to go home. The look on her face at that point was priceless, as was the sight of her angrily peeling rubber out of the parking lot. Yet despite the parking lot dismissal, Jason very much wanted to continue the assault on his boss. He wanted to so badly, in fact, that he was willing to risk his job over it. * * * Marsha flew home from the office, squealing around corners as she banged the stick through the gears. Once home she headed straight for the liquor cabinet, bypassing the wine for Johnnie Walker Red -- straight up. She was midway through her second glass before she finally relaxed enough to take a seat at the kitchen table and try to come to grips with what had happened. Despite the poor performance evaluation she'd given the young man, she didn't dislike Jason. He was a decent kid, or at least that's how she'd viewed him before; a decent kid with a promising, albeit undeveloped, talent. But today all those feelings changed. To Marsha Dunn, Jason could never again be simply 'a decent kid.' No, it was suddenly much more complicated than that. How could the young man who'd just reached inside her very soul to unleash her wildest dreams -- dreams she'd always thought of as the horny, lustful fantasies women had but never spoke of -- be dismissed as simply 'a decent kid.' And now, as she sat there with her second drink in hand, the unwelcome truth was hitting home. Fantasy or not, normal women did not go around allowing coworkers -- subordinates 12 years their junior, no less -- to dominate them as completely as she'd allowed Jason to dominate her. 'Allow, hell!' she thought. 'I didn't allow anything. He took what he wanted and then discarded me like yesterday's trash.' She threw down the rest of her scotch and rose to her feet. She moved slowly towards the kitchen window, placed her hands on the counter-top on either side of the sink and lowered her head in thought. For several long moments she stood there, mute and motionless. Finally, she lifted her head, took a deep breath and spoke out loud. "All that aside, the fact is I've never been fucked like that before, by anybody. And I've got no earthly idea what to do about it." She turned and made her way down the hallway, headed for her bedroom and a long, hot bath. * * * It was the second ringing of the doorbell -- or was it the third -- that finally roused Marsha from her sleep. She rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. "Midnight?" she moaned. "Who the hell could that be? It's the middle of the fucking night!" The bell rang again, followed by a pounding on the door. She resisted the urge to call out as she slid out of bed. Not knowing who would come calling at such an ungodly hour she elected to err on the side of caution, turning on only the light in the master bathroom before pulling her robe from the hook on the back of the bedroom door and sliding it over the mid-thigh length cotton nightgown she always wore. She then made her way down the hall, past the guest room and the third bedroom, to the front door, maneuvering carefully through the dark hallways. The doorbell rang again before she made it to the foyer and stepped quietly up to the peep-hole. She gasped involuntarily. It was him! Jason Edwards! She took a half step backwards, instinctively grabbing the front of her robe, ensuring that it was drawn tightly around her. Thoughts of earlier that day came flying into her head -- the seduction, the massage, the undressing, the fucking. Yet despite those thoughts, there was one lonely voice of sanity somewhere inside screaming at her not to open the door; that to do so would be to start down a path she might never be able to leave. But her mind kept coming back to the fucking; the fucking and the domination. And she knew she was not going to listen to that lonely voice of sanity. She knew she was going to open the door and let him in. What happened after that would be totally up to him. Still, she hesitated, not moving until yet another rapping sounded on the door. Finally, she took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. When the door finally swung open, neither of them spoke. For the longest moment it was just two people gazing intently into each other's eyes, one framed by the darkness inside the house, the other a shadow barely illuminated in the hazy moonlight. Ultimately it was the young man -- the shadow -- who moved, stepping into the doorway even as the older woman retreated before him. But Marsha didn't retreat far; two steps, no more. Just enough to allow him entrance. He eased the door closed behind him, locking the deadbolt instinctively before flicking on the light. Then, with his eyes still locked on hers, he slid off the light jacket he was wearing and dropped it carelessly on the floor. He then took another step forward. With her heart pounding in her chest, Marsha Dunn retreated likewise, maintaining the slim distance that separated them. She took a deep breath to steady herself -- a sign of nervousness which he obviously saw -- and retreated yet another step, only this step ended with her back pressing against the hallway wall. Jason matched her step with one of his own, following that one with yet another. And suddenly the distance between them was gone. She stared into his eyes and, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car; found herself completely unable to move. She had no idea what it was about this young man, but she wanted him like she'd never wanted anybody in her life. And she did not delude herself into thinking they could have a relationship of equals. She had absolutely no doubt that any relationship they may have would be on his terms, and that those terms would stretch her in ways she couldn't even begin to imagine. So she stood quietly, shaking visibly yet offering no resistance as he reached his hands out and untied the sash that held her bathrobe closed. Then she leaned away from the wall just enough to allow him to slide the robe over her shoulders and down her arms. He allowed his eyes to drift over her nightgown clad body briefly before re-establishing eye contact. And then, for the first time since she'd opened the door, he spoke. "Lift your arms over your head." Not trusting her voice, she obeyed silently, taking his words for exactly what they were -- a command, not a request. In slow, measured movements he reached for the hem of her nightgown and eased it up her body, watching as the fire in her eyes grew hotter as each new inch of skin was revealed. He eased it up her thighs and over her hips, revealing a pair of old, white panties with a hint of dampness in the crotch. And he eased it over the curves of her waist to unveil her still firm tummy before sliding it over the swelling of the most amazing pair of tits he'd ever seen, completely unencumbered by brassiere. Finally, he slid the hem over her head and up her arms, stopping when he reached her wrists, leaving her head and arms covered by her nightgown while the rest of her body -- save for a small pair of panties -- stood completely exposed. With the confidence of a young man who knew he would not be denied, Jason continued his quest, sliding her hands together so he could hold the nightgown and her wrists with just his left hand, thereby freeing his right hand for other, more important tasks. He lowered his free hand to her shoulder, sliding it slowly, softly downward. He allowed it to lightly graze her left breast, hesitating but an instant before easing it back to her side, from there continuing downward to her hips. Without hesitation, he slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her last vestige of modesty and began working it down her hips, first her left side, then reaching across her tummy to her right slide and sliding that side down, repeating the back and forth process until the garment slid over her knees and down to the floor. He then straightened himself up, backing away just enough to drink in all of her nakedness while still maintaining his grip on the wrists he held pinned above her head. And as he stood there, ogling her, the reality of what he had struck home with a force that nearly staggered him. He had a beautiful, tall, very well developed blonde that any man would die to be with, totally under his control. And he knew then that, should he so choose, he could own her. And he did so choose. "Kick the panties aside." As before, she obeyed quickly, wordlessly. Marsha stood pinned to the wall before him, effectively naked, struggling to maintain some semblance of self-control. With her nightgown stretched across her head and arms she was completely blind to the world. She could sense what he was doing, guess what he might no next, but she could not see him. Yet despite her blindness there was one thing she knew with absolute certainty; her cunt was on fire and desperately begging for attention And then his words broke through her brief moment of reverie, even as the fingers of his right hand were sliding into her pussy. "These are the terms of our relationship," he said in a near whisper, leaning forward until his face was nearly touching the garment that was stretched across face. "If you don't accept them, I'll leave right now, understand?" "Yes," she answered quickly, responding automatically to his authoritative voice even before the words had a chance to register in her head. "Our relationship is about sex. More precisely, it's about sex the way I want it. We'll do it how I want, where I want, when I want and as often as I want. I will be your owner, your Master. In short, you will be my property and I will be free to dominate, humiliate or punish you as I see fit. Are you with me so far?" By now her breathing was hard and labored as both the situation and the fingers sliding in and out of her pussy were having an effect on her. Yet despite her fuzzy state of mind, deep inside she knew precisely what he wanted. She also knew how she should react -- how any decent, self-respecting woman would react. She should push him away, cover herself up and kick him out of her house. The trouble was she'd never before experienced the emotions that he brought out in her, and if she had to forfeit her rights as a normal, decent human being to continue to receive his pleasure, then so be it! The fact was that she wanted to be his property and she didn't give a damn how a decent, self-respecting woman should react. She wanted him, and that was that! So she took a long, slow breath to clear her mind, and then she responded. "Yes." "Excellent," he said. And then he jammed his fingers further into her pussy, pressing her firmly against the wall as he pressed his chest against her breasts. And the lustful gasp that escaped her mouth was unlike anything he'd ever heard. "There's just one other thing," he said after she quieted down enough to hear him. "Since I'm now your Master, I don't think it's unreasonable of me to expect you to treat me with an appropriate amount of respect, do you?" She tried to concentrate, to focus on his words, but with his chest pressed hard against her bosom and his fingers digging into her pussy, it was difficult. Even so, she knew what he wanted, and she was more than prepared to give it to him. "No, sir," she said in a soft, trembling voice. "It is not inappropriate of you to expect me to treat you with respect, sir." And as soon as the words left her mouth his fingers took another plunge deep into her soaking pussy. "Very good," he said in a soft, almost kind voice. And for several minutes thereafter he continued to press himself against her while he worked her pussy, not stopping until he sensed her nearing her climax. "Okay," he said, withdrawing his finger and eliciting a mournful sigh in response. But he paid her no mind, instead lifting his right hand to take hold of her left, moving her arms until six inches separated the two, each pinned to the wall by one of his own. "Open your palms." "Yes, sir," she replied as she complied with his order. He then released her arms and pushed the nightgown into her palms. "Now," he said in a soft, low voice, "I want you to close your hands around your nightgown and hold it over your head until I say you can lower it." "Yes, sir," came the automatic response as Marsha quickly complied. And when she'd done as he'd instructed he released her completely, stepping back to drink in the sight of his lovely, shapely boss standing naked before him; naked, that is, save for the nightgown she held stretched upwards over her head. He waited several moments before stepping forward and taking a nipple in each hand, twirling them between his thumbs and forefingers. Marsha sighed deeply, melding into the wall as her young employee toyed with her. And when his fingers abandoned her nipples and his hands took hold of her breasts and squeezed, mashing them against her chest, she moaned out loud. As his hands continued to work her orbs -- massaging them, squeezing them -- she nearly dropped her arms, so dizzying was the pleasure he was inflicting. She sensed him changing positions even before his teeth closed lightly around her right nipple. Then she closed her eyes, her breathing getting heavier and her head swaying dreamily from side to side. He switched his pleasure from her right nipple to her left, continuing to squeeze and massage her orbs as his mouth danced from one breast to the other, alternately kissing, biting, licking and nibbling, all while her passion continued to build. And then he withdrew his mouth from her bosom, moving it instead to her tummy as he eased himself slowly to his knees, all while allowing his hands to remain on her chest to assault her heaving breasts. He kissed his way around her tummy as she stood lewdly above him, her body gyrating against his ministrations, the moans now flowing continuously from her lips. And when his lips finally reached her belly button he stopped, withdrawing both his mouth and hands from her body, much to her gasping displeasure. Looking up at her, he watched as she continued to gyrate her body, sensing her disappointment when her gyrations were met with nothing but air. He moved his left hand to her hip and slid his right hand between her legs, his fingers once again diving into her dripping pussy, working first in, then out, then in again as she gasped out loud above him. And he continued to work her -- in, then out, then in again -- until she was once again on the verge of orgasm. And again he stopped, withdrawing his hands as he rose to his feet. He stood before her, pausing briefly to gather himself, before stepping forward and pressing himself against her, his right leg between her legs and his chest pressed against her right breast. Her reaction to his presence was immediate as she began grinding her pussy against his leg, desperately trying to continue her pleasure, not caring how she did it. He allowed her to continue for nearly a minute, smiling as the groans coming from under her nightgown began growing in intensity. "I wonder," he said slowly, "if the people at work know just how big of a slut you really are?" He paused a moment, noting that her only response to his statement was more moaning and an increased pace to her humping. "I mean, look at you, humping my leg like a puppy dog humping its Master's leg." And then a smile slid across his face and he reached out for her hips, holding them steady to stop her humping. "That's it," he said simply. "Since you are without a doubt a slut whose actions are no better than a puppy dog's, that's what you'll be." And he released her hips, took hold of the nightgown that covered her head and pulled it upward, at last unveiling her head as her sandy blonde hair fell haphazardly around her shoulders. He then pushed the garment the rest of the way up her arms and cast it aside. But he didn't tell her she could lower her arms, and she did not take the liberty to do so without his permission. And as they looked into each other's eyes for the first time since shortly after he'd entered the house, he finished his thought. "From now on your name is Slut Puppy," he said simply. "Because that's what you are." After a moment of silent staring, Jason spoke again. "What's the matter, Slut Puppy, you don't like your new name?" "No, sir," she responded quickly before catching herself. "I mean yes, sir." And she hesitated, confused by the wording of the question. So she took a deep breath to calm herself, and tried again. "I mean yes, sir. I like my new name." Jason smiled at her response, stepping back to drink in the sight of the woman standing before him, a woman stripped not only of her clothing but of her dignity as well, standing against the wall submissively with her hands stretched obediently above her head. And only then did he realize just how much power he really held over her. * * * He wasn't sure how long he stood there -- maybe thirty seconds, maybe more. But eventually he drew a deep breath, let it out slowly and turned away. He walked the few feet that separated them from the living room and stepped inside. He surveyed the room, quickly decided it would do, and turned back to his sub. "You can lower arms now, Slut Puppy, and come in here." Marsha lowered her arms slowly, rolling her shoulders to ease the muscle strain she felt. And then she froze. He'd just ordered her into the living room -- the medium size room in the front of the house with the picture window overlooking the street that passed by the front of her house. The problem was she never closed the curtain over that window. Right now -- as it always was -- her living room was on full display to anyone that happened to walk by and look in. She closed her eyes, feeling her knees shake as her stomach began to churn. She couldn't bring herself to go out there, but neither could she disobey him. Somehow, she needed to find a way . . . But then the words he'd said earlier came flooding back -- 'we'll do it how I want, where I want, when I want and as often as I want,' he'd said. Those were his terms and they were terms she'd eagerly accepted. Now it was time to step up. And That's the Rub Ch. 02 Without further debate, Marsha started towards the living room, hoping against hope that the lateness of the hour, the relative seclusion of the street and the fact that the room was only dimly illuminated with the indirect light from the foyer would protect her. Maybe, just maybe . . . She entered the living room slowly, making a conscious effort not to look towards the window, instead focusing her attention on the fully dressed young man to whom she now belonged. She came to a stop in front of him and awaited his instructions. "Turn around," he said. "Then spread you legs and bend at the waist." "Yes, sir," she said, moving quickly to comply, very much aware of the sight she'd make should anyone happen to pass by and look in the window. She was also well aware of the sight she made for Jason as he knelt down behind her and spread her butt cheeks wide. What she didn't know, however, was which of the two emotions excited her more. For several moments she held her position, her eyes closed as he gently massaged her buttocks. "You have a very nice ass," Jason finally said, releasing the cheeks but maintaining his kneeling position behind her. "Thank you, sir," she said with more than a bit of pride. "Now reach back and massage your pussy for me." "Yes, sir," she responded, moving her right hand quickly to comply, the opportunity to massage her itching womanhood quickly driving all thoughts of the uncovered window from her mind. For his part, Jason held his position silently, watching as his Slut Puppy eagerly masturbated for him, paying close attention to the quickening pace of her ministrations and listening to her increasingly urgent moans. When he felt the time right he rose to his feet and moved to her left side, placing his right hand on her ass while his left hand slid up her back to take hold of a small handful of hair. "Ahhh," Marsha gasped as he pulled on her hair. She bent her neck back slightly to ease the pain, but offered no words of complaint as she waited for his next move. "Are you still massaging your pussy, Slut Puppy?" he asked in a challenging voice. "I haven't told you to stop yet." She gasped automatically, realizing that she'd stopped her masturbation when he'd grabbed her by the hair. "No, sir. I'm sorry, sir." And she immediately put her right hand back to work on her already worked up cunt. "That's better," he said. He then hesitated, allowing her hand to reestablish her level of excitement before he continued. "You know what happens now, don't you?" "No, sir," she answered honestly. "Now you get punished," he said simply. He could feel her stiffen at his words, but she said nothing. "Do you know why you're being punished?" he asked, posing the question he knew she wanted to ask, but wouldn't. "No, sir." "Well," he said, easing his grip on her hair just a touch. "Can you think of anything unpleasant that happened at work last week?" She hesitated, thinking back on the week. And then it hit her. "You mean your evaluation? But that was . . ." "What that was, Slut Puppy," he interrupted, "was business. I not only understand that you have a job to do, I expect you to do it to the best of your ability. However, when your job responsibilities conflict with your responsibilities to me, you can expect a reconciliation to follow. This," he said in summary, "is just such a reconciliation. He then pulled his right hand away from her ass, only to deliver it back quickly and firmly. SLAP! "Ahhh," she cried out, instinctively trying to rise up, only to be held down by his left hand twisting her hair, holding it firmly. "Ahhh," she cried out again. SLAP! The second blow came a moment later and with equal force, eliciting a similar, but slightly more controlled reaction. "Your pussy, Slut Puppy. Don't forget to massage your pussy." And then . . . SLAP! Another blow struck home. Marsha's head was spinning as the overload of emotions descended on her. The pain he was delivering to her buttocks, the pleasure she was inflicting on her pussy, her total surrender to her young employee, and the knowledge that a complete stranger might be watching it all unfold were simply too much for her. She opened her mouth to scream as she slammed her right hand into her pussy as yet another blow landed on her ass, but nothing came out. And she slid her left hand to her clit, sliding it desperately over the swollen bud as another blow found its mark. And as the blows continued to fall on her tender, sore butt, she worked her womanhood desperately until finally -- mercifully -- her orgasm struck home; striking with such force that she would have crumbled to the floor had it not been for his left hand holding her hair and his right hand sliding around her waist for support. The moment she recovered enough to hold her bent over position unassisted he released her and slid around behind her. With her breath still coming in hard labored gasps, she opened her eyes and looked back between her legs. She watched his feet take their position behind her, and kept watching as his pants and underwear slid down his legs to bunch up around his ankles. She then closed her eyes and took a deep breath as his cock slid across her puffy lips once, returning quickly to take its position at the entrance to her still recovering love hole. And then, as his hands slid around her waist, each firmly grabbing one of her tits, she screamed out as he rammed his meat home. He fucked her hard and without mercy, quickly bringing another orgasm to her already weak body. And even as she struggled to maintain her sanity, he slid his meat from her pussy, repositioned it at her nether hole and eased his slick, cum-covered tool slowly into her back door. So dizzy was Slut Puppy's mind by then that she was only partially aware that he was doing something to her that she'd never before allowed a man to do. And though she wasn't quite aware enough to know exactly what was happening, she was aware of a strange pleasure/pain that she'd never before experienced. Still, it was the fingers sliding over her love bud shortly after abandoning her tit that sent her screaming. "No," she gasped. "Please stop." But her pleas were too late as a final orgasm wracked her body, even as Jason was dumping his seed into her ass. * * * When she finally recovered she was lying on her back on the living room floor, still completely naked. The house was pitch dark, even the foyer light was off. She held her position, listening, but heard nothing. She then eased herself to her feet and moved to the living room window, making no move whatsoever to cover herself. She looked out at the driveway just in time to see Jason's car backing onto the street and driving away. She stood there another moment and then turned and made her way back to her bedroom, making no effort to collect her robe, nightgown or panties. Two minutes later she was fast asleep. * * * * * * * Thanks for reading. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. And That's the Rub Ch. 03 Chapter 3 -- Going Deep Marsha slept until nearly 9:00 that Sunday morning. Even then she didn't immediately vacate the bed, choosing instead to lie there reliving the events of the previous day. She finally rolled out of bed around 10:00 AM and, without bothering to cover her naked body, headed for the front foyer to recover her robe, nightgown and panties. She returned to the bedroom where she slipped on a clean pair of panties before slipping on the bathrobe. Finally, she headed for the kitchen and a cup of strong, hot coffee. She spent the day futzing around the house doing laundry, dusting, vacuuming and any other tidbits she could find to keep her mind occupied. But however she tried, she was unable to keep her mind off Jason Edwards and the way he'd turned her life completely upside down in less than 24 hours. Before Saturday afternoon's episode at the office or their later midnight encounter, Marsha Dunn's sex life had been pretty routine, even bordering on boring. That wasn't through lack of opportunities, however. At 5'8" with an attractive, shapely figure, she'd always attracted her share of interest from guys. Unfortunately, none of her prospective suitors were ever able to elicit a similar interest from her. In college, life had been okay, but not great. She'd had a boyfriend or two and managed to attend a few parties, but she never got into that scene like the other girls did. Instead, she'd allowed her studies to be the focus of her world. Once she graduated from college she'd become too busy with her career to allow much more than an occasional man to pass through her life -- or her bedroom. All in all, hers was a life that was seriously lacking in danger and excitement. It was, that is, until yesterday, when Jason Edwards -- an employee of hers a dozen years younger than her 35 years -- turned her world upside down. Suddenly all she could think about was sex. And it wasn't the normal, ordinary, mildly arousing sex that she craved, but the hard, daring, risky sex that Jason had introduced her too -- the kind of sex she'd had yesterday when she twice surrendered herself to her subordinate, allowing him to dominate her like she'd never been dominated before. In short, last night Jason had come to her house in the middle of the night to stake his claim as her Master. By the time he'd left, Marsha Dunn was his -- totally and completely. And the cold light of day had done nothing to make her regret her choice. * * * It seemed to take forever for Monday morning to come. When it finally did, Marsha went about her morning routine as always, the only significant differences being the nervousness that coursed through her veins and the abnormally sexy undergarments she'd picked out for the day. She stopped for a cup of coffee and donut on the way to work, something she almost never did. By the time she arrived at the six story office building she worked in, the donut was gone. She rode the elevator up to the third floor, taking advantage of the opportunity to check her hair and makeup in the mirror. When the elevator doors finally slid open she stepped off and made her way nervously towards the suite, pausing for one more deep breath before stepping into her new world. She said hello to the receptionist and made her way down the hallway. She poked her head into a copywriter's office to offer a few thoughts on a campaign that needed his attention. And she made sure she had a pleasant hello for each of the artists in her area -- including Jason. Then she entered her office and deposited her purse and coffee on the desk. It wasn't until she sat down in her chair that she realized exactly how nervous she really was. She took a few minutes to calm her nerves before turning on her computer and looking through her list of projects. There were several things that needed her attention that day. Of those, two stood out among the rest; the Mitchell ad and the Assistant Art Director she'd assigned it too -- Jason Edwards. She leaned back in her chair and smiled nervously, closing her eyes as she took a deep, relaxing breath. "Well," she said out loud as she opened her eyes, "no time like the present." With that she stood up, started out the door and headed directly for Jason's work station. "Jason," she said when she got there, "I'm headed over to Ray's office for a few minutes. When I get back I'd like to go over the Mitchell ad with you." "Sure thing, Marsha," Jason smiled. And with that Marsha turned and headed down the hall. * * * "Okay, I'm ready for you," Marsha said as she passed Jason's desk. "We'll meet in my office." "Right behind you, boss," Jason said, his response loose and easy in keeping with the informal structure everyone in the office shared. Marsha stepped into her office, placed her notepad on the desk and turned around. A moment later Jason stepped through the door, sliding it closed behind him, silently turning the knob to lock it before turning to face Marsha. For several seconds they stood there, staring into each other's eyes. There were a million things Marsha wanted to say, but instinctively she knew enough to stay quiet until he spoke. When he finally did speak, his words shocked her. "On you knees, Slut Puppy. I'm in need of a blow job." The words instantly brought a look of fear to her face. She'd known things between them would be different; after all, with everything that'd happened, how could they possibly remain the same? And she'd known that she'd have to find a way to adjust to the new reality. But she'd never imagined he'd try anything at work, at least not when the office was fully staffed. Yet there was absolutely no mistaking his words. She almost challenged him; in fact she'd actually opened her mouth to do so, but no words came out. She realized she was breathing rapidly, nearly hyperventilating, so she took a deep, calming breath. It didn't work. Finally, with an aura of absolute submission, she bit her lip and nodded her head. "Yes, Sir," she said in a voice that was barely audible. And then she slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of him. Her hands were shaking as she reached for his pants. She managed the belt with no problem but fumbled with the button before finally freeing it and sliding down the zipper. She then eased the trousers down his legs, leaving them in a pile around his ankles. Finally, she reached up and pulled down his underwear, her eyes glued to his engorged cock as it sprang instantly to life before her. She looked up at him as if looking for approval in his eyes, but she found herself unable to read his expression and quickly returned her attention to the task at hand. She allowed her hands to brush lightly against his member, the mere touch of it sending shivers down her spine, before sliding her left hand to his balls. And as she caressed them tenderly, her right hand moved to his shaft, grasping it, sliding up and down its length. She worked him like this for nearly a minute before his words once again shattered the silence. "Suck on it," he spoke in a low, menacing, growl. "Take it in your mouth and make me cum." She looked up at him quickly. "Yes, Sir," she answered before returning her attention to the task at hand, leaning forward and sliding her lips around him. But even before she could start working him he grabbed her hair. "And I expect you to swallow every drop. Understand?" With his cock in her mouth and her hair being held roughly in his hand, she nodded her head obediently and started sliding up and down his length. She could feel her pussy flowing as she serviced him, sucking his cock, caressing his balls. She withdrew her mouth briefly to lick the length of his highly aroused dick before diving back onto it, earning a moan from him for her efforts -- a moan that sent shivers of excitement down her spine as it suddenly dawned on her just how important pleasing him had become. She then went after him with a hunger she'd never before experienced during a blow job. In the past, blow jobs were something she did rarely, and never did they give her pleasure. But here she was, on her knees in her own office during the middle of a work day sucking madly on her subordinate's cock, and suddenly it was urgently important that she give him similar feelings of pleasure to those that he'd given her. She became so absorbed in her task that she barely realized her left hand had slipped between her legs, madly rubbing at her pant covered pussy while she hungrily attacked her Master's manhood. It wasn't long before he started tensing up in her mouth as his hands took hold of both sides of her head, holding her steady while he unloaded his seed in her mouth, even as her own orgasm shot through her pussy. She swallowed his cum eagerly, making sure that nary a drop escaped, even as she struggled to regain her own senses. Finally, she leaned back and looked up at him. The smile she got back was all the reward she needed. "That was very good, Slut Puppy. You're just a natural born cock sucker, aren't you?" She smiled. "Thank you, Sir." And then she began the process of pulling his underwear and pants back up and putting him back together. When she'd finished that, she stood up and straightened up her own clothes before pulling a small mirror from her purse and doing a repair job on her hair. "We should probably unlock the door and take a look at the Mitchell ad," she said. * * * The rest of the day went pretty much as normal, with meetings keeping Marsha busy to the point where she hardly had time to think of Jason. As usual, it was after 5:00 PM when she left the office, the rest of her department already deserted. To her great disappointment, she didn't see Jason again until she called him into her office at 9:00 AM the next morning. By the time Jason walked through her office door, Ray Bradford was already there. "I'll get right to the point, Jason," Marsha said with an outer calmness that somehow managed to mask the inner turmoil she was experiencing. "In order to better handle the recent growth in our business, we're promoting Ray to Assistant Creative Director. As part of his new duties, he will supervise a small group of employees, including you. From your standpoint, the only thing that will change is who you'll report to, Ray instead of me. Any questions?" she asked. Jason couldn't help but feel that something in Marsha's expressions wasn't quite right; that somehow, this decision was about more than just business. Even so, he shook his head slowly, looking briefly at Ray before returning his gaze to Marsha. "Nope," he answered, "seems pretty clear. I assume this is effective immediately?" Yet silently he vowed to delve a bit deeper into this subject later that evening with Marsha. After all, subs had no place making personal decisions without first consulting their Master. His sub apparently needed a bit more training. "That's right," Marsha responded. She then turned to Ray. "Is there anything you'd like to add, Ray?" The meeting ended shortly thereafter with Ray and Jason adjourning to Ray's office and Marsha headed for yet another meeting. The next time she saw Jason was 4:45 when he poked his head through her office door. "Pizza at your place tonight, Marsha?" he asked pleasantly. Marsha smiled. "Yeah, that sounds good." * * * It was 6:30 when the doorbell rang announcing Jason's arrival. Marsha hurried to the door, opening it wide. Jason strolled through without a word, a riding crop in his left hand. He entered the kitchen and picked up the phone. Before dialing he turned to Marsha. "Remove all of your clothes and stand at attention in the middle of the family room." Without waiting for her response he turned away, dialed a number from memory and waited. "I'd like to order a pizza," he said a moment later and proceeded to place his order. When he finally finished he hung up the phone and moved to the family room abutting the kitchen along the back of the house, finding Marsha standing there at attention without a stitch of clothes. For her part, Marsha was beginning to accept the fact that this young man she'd gotten herself involved with was anything but predictable, and she sensed that he expected his orders carried out without question. Still, even as she ripped off her clothes and hurried to the appointed spot, there was a pounding in her chest that betrayed her uneasiness at Jason's apparent displeasure. And as she stood there silently, hands at her sides and back straight, she couldn't help wondering just what she could have done wrong. Jason circled her slowly, coming to a stop directly in front of her. He slid the end of his 27" riding crop between Marsha's thighs and wiggled it back and forth. "Spread your legs." She complied wordlessly, spreading her legs until her feet were about 18" apart, gasping only slightly when he slid the one-and-a-half inch wide leather tip of the crop against her pussy and patted it lightly. He then circled her one more time, this time dragging the tip of the crop across her body as he went. "Okay, why don't you explain it to me from the beginning?" he said when he once again stood in front of her. Marsha hesitated. "I'm sorry, sir," she responded nervously. "I don't know what you mean." Jason took a deep breath, as if trying to control his temper. "I'm talking about this morning's meeting; about my reassignment." 'Oh,' Marsha said to herself, 'of course.' She thought for a minute before beginning. "The move to promote Ray was necessary. We've actually been planning it for some time now. And obviously he needed a staff, although initially we were thinking about making Jeff the Assistant Art Director for his team, not you. After the last few days, however, I began to realize that it might be better if you didn't report directly to me. I have no doubt that, in any event, if our relationship were discovered it would raise more than a few eyebrows around the office, but it'd be a lot easier for the agency to deal with if I weren't your immediate supervisor." She paused, considering what else might need to be said. "In a nutshell, that's about it," she finally said. Jason returned to his slow, deliberate pacing, circling her. "Let me see if I understand this. You made a business decision to promote Ray, correct?" "Yes, sir." "Then you made a business decision to give him a staff. Am I still right?" "Yes, sir." "But then instead of making a business decision and reassigning Jeff, you made a personal decision and reassigned me. Is that also right?" he said in a deeper, stronger tone as he stopped his pacing and positioned himself directly behind her. It was only then that the light truly went on for Marsha. She'd made a decision that affected both of them without consulting him and this was his way of setting her straight. Still, she held her position and answered him honestly, yet in a voice he almost had to strain to hear. "Yes, sir." Jason eased to Marsha's right side, holding the crop in his right hand and sliding the leather end lightly over her tummy and up to her breasts. He then withdrew the crop suddenly and -- SMACK! -- slapped it hard against her right breast. "Understand this!" he barked even as she was gasping, instinctively shying away from him. "You do not" -- SMACK!, this time on the left breast -- "have the right to make personal decisions" --SMACK!, the right again -- "that impact me." Jason's sudden attack had caught Marsha by surprise, unprepared to handle his ire. The riding crop's sudden assault on her breasts had surprised her, and did not come without a stinging pain. Still, even as she stood there shaking, wanting to shy away further but daring not, she realized the sting was temporary and already beginning to subside. It was the sound of the leather slapping against her breasts, along with the bark in his voice that truly scared her. "Don't be mistaken about this," he continued in a softer, gentler voice. "When you accepted me as your Master, you gave up the right to all of your personal freedoms." He leaned in close, his face inches from hers. "You do understand that, don't you Slut Puppy?" he whispered. "Yes, Sir," she answered. He withdrew his face from hers and repositioned himself in front of her, sliding the riding crop between her legs and patting her pussy in a soft, repeating pattern. "I allow you to make the business decisions necessary for you to do your job," he said, still tapping her pussy with the crop. "And as long as you show me that you can handle that responsibility, I'll continue to allow it. But be assured that I will not hesitate to withdraw that privilege if you do not show a marked improvement in your decision making choices. Clear?" "Yes, sir," she replied in a soft, submissive voice. "I'm sorry, sir. Please forgive me. I didn't understand." Jason smiled at her kindly. "Well, now you do, Slut Puppy. And of course I'll forgive you; just as soon as your punishment is completed." He paused, smiling deviously. "Now, assume the position." There was absolutely no doubt in her mind as to what 'the position' was. It was the standing, bent at the waist position he'd had her in the other night when he spanked her sss. Neither was there any hesitation in her movement to obey his command. With her heart pounding in her chest, she stood naked before her subordinate, her Master, bent at the waist, biting her lower lip as she awaited the inevitable. The gasp that escaped her lips as his left hand took firm hold of her hair and twisted her head back was loud enough to be heard throughout the house, as was the yelp when the first swat struck her buttocks. SMACK! Followed almost immediately by another -- SMACK! -- and then another. After that the blows came slower, if no less intense. And as the sting from each succeeding blow built upon its predecessor, an all too familiar feeling began building between her legs. Perhaps it was the intensity of the moment, or perhaps it was the part of her that remembered the other night when, in a similar circumstance, he'd ordered her to play with her pussy while he spanked her. Whatever it was, she didn't hesitate sliding her hand to her pussy and massaging it while she gyrated her hips, building on her pleasure/pain even as the blows continued to fall. And then suddenly, with no notice at all, he lifted her head and turned her towards him. "Did I say you could play with yourself?" He barked. "No, sir," she gasped. "I'm sorry, sir. I thought that . . ." But he cut her off abruptly, releasing his hold on her hair. "Get on the floor," he barked. "Now!" She dropped instantly to the floor, taking her position face down below him. "On your back!" She obeyed without question, now staring straight up at him, her nakedness spread out below him. He leaned over her, hovering, and then spoke in a quiet, controlled voice. "You were so eager to play with yourself, go ahead, do it! And not just your pussy, I want to see those hands of yours dance over your entire body. And I want to see you cum like you've never come before." She held her position, frozen, her eyes locked on his as if she wasn't sure what he'd said. He allowed her a few moments to gather herself before following up his command. "Perhaps you didn't understand, Slut Puppy. That wasn't a suggestion, or even a request. Now spread your legs wide, slide your right hand down to that hot, juicy cunt of yours, move your left hands to your tits and make yourself cum. NOW!" "Yes, Sir," she panted, her right hand moving quickly between her legs as her left hand grabbed her left breast roughly. It was the left hand attacking her breasts that caused her initial gasp with its squeezing, grabbing, pinching, massaging. But it was the fingers of her right hand diving into her pussy that started her gyrating atop the floor. And That's the Rub Ch. 03 She arched her back, stretching her body as she dug into her steaming cunt, writhing atop the floor. It didn't take long for her pleasure to begin to build, her left hand quickly abandoning her breasts in favor of her inflamed clit. And as one hand unsheathed the aching bud, the other dug deeper and deeper, harder and harder into her center. Soon her eyes slid shut and her mouth fell agape, unintelligible grunts and groans coming louder and heavier with each passing moment until mercifully, her body erupted in orgasm. When it finally passed, her body collapsed on the floor like a limp noodle. She managed to open her eyes to see Jason still standing over her, staring down. That was the moment her surrender to him was finally complete; that she finally accepted the situation for what it truly was. He was her Master, and she was his slut. It truly was as simple as that. And while still lying on the floor, her chest rising and falling in its thirst for air, she called him by his true name for the first time, finally taking the ultimate step. "Thank you, Master." There was a smile on Jason's face as he dropped to his knee. He reached out and brushed the hair back from her face, rubbing his palm tenderly against her cheek. "I knew you'd understand eventually," he said. For a moment neither moved, each pair of eyes locked on the other's. And then, just when they were in danger of sharing an intimate moment that could have altered their relationship forever, the doorbell rang, shattering not only the silence, but the moment. And without a word, Jason rose to his feet and moved to the door. * * * Jason pushed the door shut with his foot and started towards the kitchen. "Pizza's ready, Puppy." Marsha met him in the kitchen, hurrying to his side. "I'm famished," she smiled. Jason set the pizza down on the island top and opened the box while Marsha grabbed two plates from the cabinet. "Need any silverware?" she asked. "No," he answered, shaking his head. "We'll use our fingers." Marsha slid the forks she was in the process of pulling from the silverware drawer back into their slots and slid the door shut. "Yes, Master," she said, a thin smiling sliding across her lips. Jason picked out a piece and lifted it up, turning towards her to set it on her plate. He then repeated the process for himself. He lifted his piece from his plate and brought it towards his mouth. "Dig in," he smiled. Thereafter they ate in silence, him on one side of the island, her on the other, him fully clothed and her as naked as the day she was born. He finished his piece first, she a moment later. "Care for another," he asked. "Yes, please." And after he slid it onto her plate she looked at him and added, "thank you, Master." They went back to work on their pizza's in silence, she barely able to draw her eyes from his face long enough to pick up her slice, him alternately looking at her face and her breasts. When they both finished he pushed his empty plate away. "Clear off the island, Puppy, and then come here." "Yes, Master," she obediently responded as she moved to carry out his command. It took only a moment to clear the island and deposit the dishes in the sink. Then she moved to her Master's side. He slid his hands under her arms and lifted her easily, then turned and eased her onto the edge of the island so she sat facing him, her legs spread slightly. There was no hint of modesty about her as he lowered his eyes to her breasts, drinking them in for several long moments before raising his eyes and speaking. "Lie down, face up, with your head over there," he ordered, pointing to one end of the island. "Yes, Master," she replied, moving quickly into position before looking up and waiting. Jason stood by the side of the island, dragging his fingertips lightly up her legs to her stomach, then continuing to her breasts, noting the small sigh that escaped her lips as he circled her erect nipples. He backed away one step, hesitated, and began removing his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, then kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks. Only then did he unsnap his pants, push both the pants and underwear down his legs and kick them aside. He then moved to the end of the island where her head rested and took up his position, looking down on the naked body he now owned. And then he reached out and ran his fingers lightly from her breasts, up her chest and onto her neck, and finally tracing them lightly over her cheeks. Marsha could feel her heart pounding as she lie there, unable to shake the feeling that she was a sacrifice on an altar as her God stood over her, waiting. But it was an exciting feeling, not a fear; and the feeling was feeding the fire that was burning in her pussy. "Slide back a bit," he ordered calmly. She moved quickly to obey, stopping with her head hanging just off the edge of the island top. "A bit more," he added, guiding her head back until it hung cleanly over the edge, the back of it resting against the side of the island, her neck stretched taut. He stepped closer, stopping with his aroused cock just a few short inches from her mouth, his balls and thighs occupying the bulk of her field of vision. And then he took his cock and pressed it against her lips, sliding it in as her mouth fell open to allow him entry. But once he was in her, he stopped. For a moment he just stood there, looking down on his slut in a strange moment of reflection. It was funny, he thought, how his feelings for this woman had changed so much in such a short period. What had started out as dislike and distrust had quickly fostered a desire to absolutely dominate. That desire was still there, but now it was mixed with a healthy dose of admiration and respect. And a wry smile slipped across his lips. Damn it, he was proud of her! But the smile disappeared quickly as he reached out and slid his hands up her chest to her breasts, took each nipple between his thumb and forefinger and twirled them as he slid his cock further into her mouth, then pinched them as he slowly withdrew. For Marsha, it was a feeling unlike any she'd yet experienced, spread out on the island top, naked, her head bent backwards over the edge with her Master's cock buried inside her mouth. She couldn't remember ever feeling more helpless, more completely under someone else's control -- not even Jason's. She raised her knees until her feet were planted squarely on the counter top and began gyrating her hips, lifting them off the island in an attempt to grind them against something that just wasn't there, even as Jason was pulling on her nipples and sliding his meat in, then out, then back into her mouth. She slapped her hands down on the top when his hands clamped down on her tits, squeezing them as he continued to work his manhood in and out of her mouth, a bit harder now, a bit faster. And when he pressed her breasts into her chest she moaned, the sound somehow finding a way to escape her mouth even with his large cock stuffed inside it. And suddenly she could take it no more as her hands moved hurriedly to her center to attack her womanhood much the same as they had earlier, one burying itself in her pussy while the other attacked her clit. She writhed wildly atop the counter in unbridled lust as her hands attached her pussy, even as his cock pummeled her mouth and his hands continued their assault on her tits. She rolled her hips this way and that, back and forth, up and down, any way to increase her pleasure. And just as she felt her orgasm beginning to strike, she felt his body begin to jerk as he pulled his cock from her mouth. The next thing she knew his sperm was spraying all over her face. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, trying to capture his prize, but he eluded her as the last of his cum landed on her face. And then her orgasm struck full force, her body bucking wildly before collapsing suddenly onto the top. * * * He backed slowly away from the island, never taking his eyes off the wreck that was his slut as she lie there, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, her face covered with his seed. But Marsha made no move to rise, no move to clean herself up, instead just lying there, watching as her Master gathered his clothes and began to dress. Neither of them spoke a word until he'd finished dressing and slipped on his shoes. "I think we'll go out Friday night, Slut Puppy," he said, breaking the silence. "I think it's high time I take you out in public and show you off. I'll expect you to dress in something appropriately slutty." Marsha pushed herself up slowly and swung her legs over the edge of the island top before sliding to her feet. "Master," she said meekly. "I don't think I own anything that you'd consider 'appropriately slutty.' Jason smiled and patted her on her ass. "Of course you don't. That's why we're going shopping tomorrow night." And with that he turned and started for the front door, not bothering to look back as he pulled the door closed behind him. * * * * * * * Thanks for reading. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. And That's the Rub Ch. 04 Chapter 4 -- Shop 'til You Drop Wednesday was definitely not a typical day for Marsha, what with meetings and phone calls occupying the majority of her schedule. Before she knew it, it was 5:00 PM and people were packing up their belongings and filing out for the day. It was then that Jason popped his head into her office and said his first words of the day to her. "Better pack up and head home," he said. "I'll be by to pick you up at 6:00 sharp." And without waiting for a reply, he was gone. * * * Marsha, dressed in a pair of skin tight blue jeans with high-heel shoes and a tank top that just barely reached the top of her pants, stood waiting by the front door five minutes before the appointed hour. Jason was fifteen minutes late. "We'll take your car, Puppy," he said by way of introduction. "I'll drive." "Yes, sir," she said as she reached into her purse and handed him the keys. Once they were in the car, Jason turned to Marsha. "I thought we'd get a bite to eat at Tony's, first, and then head to the mall." "May I offer a suggestion, sir?" Marsha said somewhat sheepishly. "Of course you may, Puppy, as long as you ask first," he smiled. She hesitated a moment, then began. "If you're looking for something 'appropriately slutty' but with a bit of class to it, we might have better luck at Dalton's." "Dalton's, huh. I've heard of that. Isn't it over in Westside Crossing?" he asked, referring to the new, upscale outdoor mall. "Yes, sir," she replied. "Do you know how late they're open?" he asked. "Until 9:00, sir." "Excellent. That means we have time to eat first. I'm famished." And with that he started the engine and backed out of his boss's driveway. It was a fifteen minute drive to Tony's, a local bar and burger joint. They entered and took their position at the far end of the bar, Jason disdaining the booth the waitress tried to show them to. Three minutes later two bottles of Miller Lite were on the bar before them and they were placing their orders. Their meal arrived quickly, yet they ate at a leisurely pace. It wasn't lost on Marsha that the conversation they shared between bites of food was the first they'd ever had as man and woman, rather than employer and employee or Master and sub. By 7:30 Jason was paying the tab and escorting Marsha to the car. It was just after 7:40 when he turned off the engine in the parking lot in front of Dalton's. It wasn't until they reached the front door that his smile turned to a frown as he stopped, pointed towards a small sign on the door and turned towards Marsha. "It seems they close at 8:00, Slut Puppy," he said in an unhappy voice. "I'm pretty sure I remember you saying they were open until 9:00. How are we supposed to find a dress for you in fifteen minutes?" "I'm sorry, Master," she stammered. "I . . ." "I don't want to hear it, Slut Puppy," he barked, reaching for the door and walking in, leaving Marsha to scurry in behind him. * * * Nora Rossie, manager of Dalton's, moved idly through the aisles, pausing periodically to straighten a display or refold a sweater or blouse. It was a slow night, but then Wednesday nights usually were. She'd sent the last of her assistants home five minutes earlier, not really expecting to see anymore customers and not willing to pay her to stand around and do nothing. She looked up at the clock for the umpteenth time, yet it still read only fifteen before eight. "Will this night ever end?" she muttered under her breath as she moved to another display table. It was then that she looked up and saw the two customers enter the store. She noticed immediately that the two didn't seem to go together. The woman -- quite a looker -- appeared to be roughly her age, 35, while the man had to be 10 to 15 years younger. They were obviously too close in age to be mother and son, yet they were too far apart to be lovers. Especially since it was the woman who was older For a moment Nora held her position, watching the two intently, trying to put a label to their relationship. She waited until they settled in front of a rack containing some of the store's finer dresses before she finally made her move, quickly stepping in their direction. "May I help you, ma'am?" she said as she approached the woman. They both turned towards her, but it was the young man that answered. "No, but you can help me," he said gruffly. With the practiced experience of a seasoned sales professional, Nora smoothly shifted her attention his way. "Of course, sir. What can I do for you this evening," she smiled. "I had planned to pick up a dress for her," he said, nodding his head towards Marsha, "but she seems to have made a slight miscalculation on your store hours. I doubt we'll be able to find something in less than fifteen minutes." "Well," Nora said, trying to put a happy face forward for a young man who was obviously not happy, "never say never." She then turned towards the woman, looking her over. "Is it for a special occasion?" That question brought a fox-like grin to the young man's previously unhappy face. "I guess you could call it a coming out affair, couldn't you, Puppy?" 'Puppy,' Nora thought. 'A pet name of some kind, no doubt. Interesting.' "Yes, I guess so," the woman replied uneasily. And though Nora sensed a nervousness in 'Puppy's' voice when she replied, it was the look the young man shot her, and the way that 'Puppy' hastily added "sir" to the end of her statement, that really caught Nora's attention. But Nora hid her ever-growing curiosity as she shifted her attention back to the man. "So you're looking for something formal, then," she stated. "Well, you're in the right section." But the man countered. "No, not formal." He then turned to the woman. "What are we looking for again, Puppy?" he asked. Marsha's stomach was churning madly as she realized her master's game -- to put her on the spot in public, to put her in a situation where she had to all but admit her submissiveness to him in front of another person; in this case the saleswoman. And she could feel her face turning red as she gave the answer she knew her master wanted. "Something appropriately slutty, sir." Jason smiled, nodding his head as he turned back to Nora, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was purposefully putting his woman through. "That's it," he said, "something 'appropriately slutty'." And suddenly it was all clear to Nora. No longer was there any confusion about the relationship of the couple before her. It was simple, really. The woman was a submissive, not unlike herself. The young man was her master. And just as Puppy's stomach was churning with nervousness, so was Nora's mind awash with emotions as everything she'd worked so hard to put behind her came flooding back, especially one Frank Costello. Frank Costello. The man who'd first shown her the way; the man who'd become her master and introduced her to the wonderful world of surrender. When she thought back on her years with Frank, she smiled. They were good years. But five years ago Frank was taken from her in a freak boating accident. Since then anyone who had interested her was either scared off by her need or too inept to become the strong Master she truly needed. Ultimately, she'd given up even trying. But now all those feelings were back. And when she looked at the woman standing nervously before her, she smiled. It took all her concentration and willpower, but she was finally able to clear her head enough to turn and face the woman's master. "I think you might have better luck back here, sir," she said, adding extra emphasis and respect to the word 'sir.' The change in Nora's tone of voice did not go unnoticed by Jason as he turned to follow her, watching the wiggle in her walk with renewed interest and curiosity. When they reached the back portion of the store Nora pulled several dresses from the racks, holding them out one by one for Jason's review. Without hesitation he pointed to a black one and a red one. "Those two," he said. He then turned towards Puppy. "Try them on." And then he turned away from both women and started wandering down the aisle. "The dressing rooms are over here," Nora said, grabbing the dresses and leading Marsha across the store. Once Marsha drew the door shut behind her, Nora turned and started after the young man. "Do you see anything else you like, sir?" she asked as she came up along side him. Jason turned towards her and smiled. "I'm still looking," he said casually. "I'll let you know." He then turned and walked away, very much aware that, despite his dismissal, the saleswoman hadn't wandered far. A few minutes later Marsha emerged from the dressing room in the black dress, quickly crossing the store to present herself for her master's review. Jason looked her over slowly. "Turn around," he ordered, "slowly." "Yes, sir," Marsha said. "A bit too formal," he said at last, offering no further explanation. "Try the red one." "Yes, sir," she answered, turning and heading back to the dressing room. While Marsha changed, Jason continued to wander slowly about the store, with Nora never more than a handful of feet away. It was nearly eight o'clock when Marsha once again emerged from the dressing room. As before, she moved quickly across the store and came to a stop several feet in front of Jason, waiting as he looked her over, turning around slowly when he so instructed. "I like that one better," he said finally, "but I still think we can do better." He paused, his face once again turning glum as he stared at Marsha. "It's too bad we don't have another hour, isn't it, Slut Puppy?" For Marsha, her master's use of her full slut-name was like a body blow delivered by a heavyweight boxer, sucking the breath right out of her. She had quickly learned the appropriate responses to the different names Master called her. She knew that on the rare occasions when he called her by her first name she was free to address him by his. And she knew that when he addressed her as 'Puppy' he expected to be called 'Sir' at the least, 'Master' if she so chose. But once he called her 'Slut Puppy' he would accept nothing less than 'Master' as a sign of her full and absolute submission to him. And now, in the middle of a store and in the presence of a complete stranger, he'd called her 'Slut Puppy,' and in so doing had elevated the game to yet another level. Nora also noted the abrupt change in the young man's demeanor, noting with specific interest the turmoil it inflicted on his submissive. And she also sensed that things were about to change. Finally, after a silence that seemed to last forever, Marsha answered. "Yes, Master," she said softly, her head lowered. "I'm sorry, Master." If possible, those words hit Nora even harder than Marsha. She couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her lips as she took an involuntary step backwards, her eyes darting rapidly between her two customers. Finally, as the silence grew almost beyond the point of tolerance, Nora made a decision, and thoughts of Frank Costello once again came rushing back. "If it would please you, sir," Nora said, "since it's closing time, I would be happy to lock the doors and show you a few more items. That way I could ensure that you got the personal, uninterrupted attention you deserve." Jason turned towards Nora, his eyes boring in on her, before he gave the slightest nod of his head. "Do it," he said simply. "Yes, sir," she said, turning and scurrying quickly towards the front of the store. It took less than a minute for Nora to complete the task and return to where Jason and Marsha waited, taking her place at the third point of the triangle, equal distance from both. The silence seemed almost unbearable to Marsha as the seconds dragged on, her eyes dancing back and forth between Nora and Jason. If there had been any doubt in her mind before, it was gone now. Jason was going to have his way not only with her, but with Nora as well. And he was going to have it right there in the middle of the store! The only real question left was how he'd choose to exact his pleasure. Marsha felt herself shaking as her eyes met Nora's. Fantasies notwithstanding, never before had she been in any situation other than a mixed-sex twosome. Yet as sure as the sun would come up tomorrow morning, she knew that was soon to change. And she had no idea what was keeping her wobbling knees from giving out completely. "Now," Jason said in a voice that shook Marsha back to reality. And his eyes met hers quickly before he turned to Nora. "About this 'personal attention' you were talking about." "Yes, sir?" Nora responded, and Marsha could tell by the quiver in her voice that the other woman was every bit as nervous as she was. Jason hesitated a moment, a smile creeping across his face. "Remove your blouse and give it to Slut Puppy," he said at last. There was only a momentary hesitation before Nora responded. "Yes, sir," she said in a deep guttural voice, even as her hands were moving to the top button of her blouse. It only took a few seconds to unbutton the blouse and slide it off, revealing a fancy black laced bra that struggled to contain her breasts. She obediently extended the blouse to Marsha, who stepped nervously forward and took the garment in shaking hands. "Hang it over there," Jason said, pointing to a half empty rack behind the register. Quickly, Marsha scurried around the counter, grabbed an empty hanger and slid the blouse over it before slipping it onto the rack. A moment later she was back in her place, waiting. "Now the shoes," Jason said in a simple, easy voice. "Yes, sir," Nora replied, bending over as she lifted her right foot and slipped off the shoe. After she'd repeated the process with the other foot she turned towards Jason, each hand holding a shoe. "Slut Puppy," he said, not taking his eyes off Nora, "take the shoes and put them by the blouse." "Yes, Master." As soon as Marsha completed her assigned task, Jason continued his directives. "Now the pants." "Yes, sir," Nora answered, her fingers already fumbling with the button and zipper as she slid the pants over her hips and down her legs, bending over to slip them over her feet and off. "Slut Puppy," Jason said, "hang the pants next to the blouse." And as Marsha hurried to complete her newest task, Jason examined the lacy black panties that hugged Nora's hips, perfectly matching her bra. Once Marsha was back in her place, Jason continued. "Now the bra," he ordered, and even as she was sliding the brassiere down her arms and holding it out, he continued. "And the panties. Slut Puppy, put them with the rest of her things." And as soon as Marsha took the bra from her hand, Nora slid the panties over her hips and down her legs, holding them out for Marsha to place over the rack beside her blouse and pants. And then there was silence. Jason smiled as he examined the naked woman before him. She stood about five feet seven with brown hair that rolled casually onto her neck. Her complexion was somewhat darker than Marsha's, betraying her Mediterranean heritage. But it was the curve of her hips and the swelling of her breasts that commanded his attention, that and the neatly trimmed crop of hair atop her pussy. And throughout his examination, Nora stood mutely, her head hung submissively as her heart threatened to pound its way right out of her chest, not quite believing that after five long years she'd finally found a man who knew how to handle her. Jason turned briefly to Marsha, catching his slut staring at the other woman in something resembling a state of shock, before turning back to Nora. "Come here," he ordered his newest slut. "Yes, Master," Nora responded automatically, not realizing what she'd called him until after the words were out of her mouth Although Jason noted the change in address, he gave no outward sign of approval or disapproval as he slid over to Nora's right side. He eased his left hand to her backside, sliding it gently over her bare back before letting it come to rest on her buttocks. He then moved his right hand to her stomach, easing it upward until it was sliding across her breasts, squeezing and lifting them, twirling their erect nipples between his fingertips before sliding his hand back down her stomach, allowing his fingers to slide easily into her wet pussy. He slowly worked his fingers in, then out, then in again, repeating the process until his new slut was purring like a kitten, rocking her pelvis in harmony with the thrusting of his fingers. And just as she was allowing herself to surrender completely to his touch, he withdrew his right hand and slid his left hand up to grab a handful of her hair before pulling her body roughly against his own, twisting her head upwards and at a slight angle as he peered down at her. "Ow!" she blurted unintentionally. But Jason paid her no mind. "Two issues," he said bluntly, coldly. "First, since I clearly can't call a slut like you by your given name, and I already have a 'Slut Puppy', from now on you'll be 'Slut Kitty.'" He paused a moment before continuing. "Do you have a problem with that?" "No, Master," she gasped. "Second," he barked, continuing to his next point, "you apparently think we came here tonight for your pleasure." He hesitated briefly. "Well you're wrong. We came here to find an appropriately slutty dress for Slut Puppy, a dress you personally offered to help us find. But instead of helping us, you're standing around naked, just another horny slut hoping to get fucked." He hesitated again, feeling her trembling body pressing against his as she stared up at him, her brown eyes big as saucers. "Well," he said at last, "do you have anything or are you just wasting my time?" "I . . . maybe . . . over by the . . ." she stammered, trying without success to focus her thoughts. She tried to think, to mentally walk herself through the store, to look at each and every article of . . . "Yes, Master!" she blurted out suddenly. "I have just the thing." For a moment more he held her tight, looking down on her. Finally he relaxed his grip, letting her hair fall from his grasp as his hand slid over her neck and onto her shoulder. "Okay, Slut Kitty. Let's see what you've got." She took a small step backwards, rolling her neck to ease the tension. "It's in the store room, Master. It's a one of a kind we received by mistake. It's not the kind of thing we normally carry, but I think it's exactly what you're looking for." A smile crept onto Jason's face. "Well, it's not going to walk out here on its own, is it? Go get it!" "Yes, Master," Nora answered as she took off for the back of the store, her breasts bouncing in front of her while her ass wiggled behind. Less than a minute passed before Nora reappeared carrying a hanger from which a cottony leopard print mini-dress hung. She moved quickly, stepping in front of Jason and extending the dress for his review. Jason reached out, rubbing the material lightly between his finger-tips. "This just might be the one," he said after a moment. "Hang it over there, then undress Slut Puppy and help her into the new dress." "Yes, Master," Nora responded, quickly hanging the garment where indicated before turning towards Marsha. For several seconds the two women stared at each other, the naked store manager eying the master's obviously nervous slut. Finally, Nora took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them to mere inches, before reaching around Marsha, pressing her naked breasts against Slut Puppy's clothed ones and lowering the zipper that ran down the back of the dress. A moment later she was easing the garment forward and sliding it off her shoulders. And as Nora slid the dress slid off her arms and lowered it towards the floor, Marsha reached for her shoulders, steadying herself as she stepped nervously out of the garment. And That's the Rub Ch. 04 Nora turned to face Jason. "Hang the dress up by your clothes," Jason responded to her unspoken question. Nora completed the task quickly. "What about the bra?" she asked. "Now Kitty, do you really expect her to wear that dress with a bra?" "No, Master," she replied sheepishly. "Well then, first remove the bra, then help her into the dress. You can manage that, can't you?" he said in mock exasperation. "Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master." And once again she stepped close to the other woman and reached around her, this time stepping away with her bra. She didn't stop to admire Marsha's nearly naked body, instead quickly tossing the bra on the nearby counter and slipping the leopard print dress from the hanger. When she was once again in front of her, Nora knelt before Marsha and held the dress open before her, allowing Marsha to once again place her hand on her shoulder, this time to support her as she stepped into the dress. Once her feet were properly inside the dress, she removed her hand from Nora's shoulder. An instant later Nora was rising to her feet, sliding the garment up the curvy hips before her, adjusting it slightly to ensure that it was properly positioned. Finally, she put her left hand behind Marsha's head and eased it forward, before pulling the slender spaghetti strap around her neck. She backed away, surveyed her work and turned towards the young master. But she said nothing, awaiting his review and, hopefully, his approval. Jason looked Marsha over carefully, starting from the floor, working his way up her long, shapely legs, finally reaching the hem of the mini-dress a few measly inches below her womanhood. He began circling her slowly, reaching out to run his fingers lightly over the dress. It was cut moderately low in the back. The thin strap that ran behind her neck fell several inches down her chest before joining the material that clung so tightly to her that every curve of her body was vividly on display. In short, the dress did an all too inadequate job of concealing the body beneath it. "It's perfect," Jason said as he completed his inspection and slid up beside Nora, reaching around and resting his hand on her naked buttocks. "All it needs is a gold choker, a pair of brown high-heel shoes and matching thong." "We have thongs that I'm sure will meet your approval," Nora offered quickly, clearly pleased that the dress was acceptable. Jason turned to Marsha. "Do you think you can come up with the choker and shoes, Puppy?" Marsha swallowed deeply, not at all sure that the dress was something she wanted to wear in public. "Yes, Master," she managed to reply. "Good. We'll take it, then." He turned to his newest slut. "Now, Kitty, it's time to undress Puppy. Hang the dress over there and toss the panties aside." "Yes, Master," Nora replied, scurrying to comply. The two women faced each other briefly, excited eyes meeting nervous ones, before Nora reached behind Marsha and pulled the strap over her head. She quickly slid the dress down her body, again kneeling before her as she stepped out of the garment, then rising immediately to her feet to hang up the dress, before returning once again to her knees in front of Slut Puppy. This time, before reaching out for the panties, she took a moment to look up at the woman before her, a smile easing across her lips. When she finally did reach out, she did so slowly, almost teasingly, letting her fingers slide lightly up her legs before finally slipping through the waist band, pausing, then easing the moist undies down in agonizingly slow motion. And when Marsha finally stepped out of them Nora rose to her feet, casting the panties in the general direction of the counter as she stepped closer to the other submissive, hesitating only briefly before sliding her arms around her waist, leaning in and pressing a soft, tender kiss on the closed lips before her. Then, after the briefest of pauses, she leaned in again, only this time she found the lips open, waiting. And a moment later the two submissives were locked in a passionate lover's embrace while their master looked on. Jason allowed the two women their moment, watching quietly as their hands explored each other's naked bodies. It was nearly a minute later when he cleared his throat, smiling easily as the two naked women slowly broke their embrace and turned to face him. "I trust you enjoyed that," he said. "Yes, Master," Nora said quickly, a sexy smile creeping over her face It took Marsha a bit longer to meet Jason's eyes. "Yes, Master," she finally responded in a soft voice. "I did." Jason smiled, stretching out his arms sideways. "Come," he said simply. A moment later he had his arms wrapped around two naked women, each a dozen years his senior and each completely subservient to him. He held them for a moment, relishing the power he had over them, before finally pushing them from his arms. "And now it's time for my two sluts to undress me," he smiled. "I've always wondered what it would be like to have two women sucking my cock." The two women turned to face each other, but this time it was Marsha, finally over the shock of how and where the scene was unfolding, that made the first move, reaching her hand out for Nora's. And as Nora slid her hand into Marsha's, Marsha turned to Jason. "Yes, Master." And a moment later there were four female hands anxiously disrobing their master. It took the ladies less than sixty seconds to completely undress Jason, at which time Nora stepped briefly outside of her role, moving beside Marsha and sliding her arm around her waist. "You know, your master is really very pretty," she cooed teasingly. A soft giggle escaped Marsha's lips as she nodded her head. "Just wait 'til you taste him." Even Jason couldn't hide the smile that slid briefly across his face before he regained his composure. "On your knees," he barked, pointing the index finger of each hand at the floor before him. "Yes, Master," two voices rang out in unison. For Jason, it was like nothing he'd ever experienced. Not even his mastery over Marsha had prepared him for the sensation of having two women kneeling before him, Marsha to his right, Nora his left, each eagerly licking his manhood, kissing it and taking it down her throat, and each anxious to share him with the other, allowing their hands to drift over each other's body when they weren't in possession of his cock. But it was when they took him together, starting at the base of his meat and slowly kissing and nibbling their way outward, pausing along the way to share a brief but passionate kiss, that they really got him. And when they finally reached his tip, passing it back and forth between their hungry lips while Marsha's hand stroked the girth of his manhood and Nora's massaged his balls, he lost it, grabbing them each by the hair and pulling them back, alternately moving each in front of his enraged manhood while Marsha continued to pound him as his seed gushed forth over their faces. Several moments passed before Jason, still holding his sluts by their hair, took a deep breath and pulled the women to their feet. He looked at their cum covered faces, breathing deeply to gather himself, before he finally spoke. "So you liked that, did you?" "Yes, Master," they chimed in unison, small giggles escaping their lips. But Jason wasn't smiling as he twisted their heads and pulled them against his chest. "But it's not about your pleasure, is it?" he barked. The women tried to desperately to return to form, struggling to wipe the smiles from their faces. "No, Master," they echoed, but moments later they again broke out in fits of laughter. "That's it!" Jason barked, the violence in his voice startling the women back into character. He released Marsha's hair and pushed her away. "Clean off that table," he ordered. "Yes, Master," Marsha responded, scurrying quickly to clear the indicated table, still struggling to stifle the giggles that lingered in her throat. Once the table was clear, Jason pulled Nora backwards by her hair until her buttocks was pressing against the table. "It seems to me that I had a slut who understood her place perfectly until you came along," he said in a deep, menacing voice. "Perhaps this will remind you of what your place truly is." And with that he pushed her backwards onto the table, lifted her legs up and pressed them back over her prone torso, before planting his left forearm across the back of her thighs. He hesitated a moment, unable to resist looking at the beautiful ass on display beneath him, the glistening lips of her pussy framed neatly at the base of her fleshy thighs. And then he raised his right hand over his head and let loose, sending at least a dozen hard, well placed blows to her buttocks, each blow eliciting a shrill yelp a split second after it landed. When the blows stopped Jason repositioned himself behind Nora, grabbing each of her ankles with one of his hands, and turned towards Marsha. "Stick me in her, slut," he ordered curtly. "Yes, Master," came the immediate response as a suddenly somber Marsha scurried over, took hold of her Master's cock and eased it against the gates of Nora's womanhood. An instant later she released it, and an instant after that he buried his hardness deep inside her, the scream coming from her lungs filling the store. There was no tenderness in what happened next; only the brutal, animalistic sex one enraged animal inflicts on another, with Nora slapping the palms of her hands against the table, or clutching desperately at her breasts, while Jason threw himself into her, not stopping until he blew his load deep inside her midway through her second mind-blowing orgasm. For several minutes there was silence, Jason leaning over Nora, both of them struggling for breath as Marsha stood beside her Master, softly running her fingers over his back and through his hair. It was Jason who recovered first, slowly raising himself upright and pushing himself away from Nora. Then he turned to Marsha, grabbed her by the hair and smiled. "Now it's your turn." And with that he pushed her between Nora's still widespread legs, placing his hand on her back and pressing her against the prone woman's belly. And then he began wailing on her ass - five slaps, ten slaps - not stopping until well after the fifteenth slap had landed on her beet red buttocks. A moment later he was slamming his once again hard member in and out of his submissive's pussy, only this time it was Marsha that was screaming out as the orgasms ripped through her body. * * * It was some time later, the two women standing beside their young Master by the store's main entrance. Marsha held the leopard print mini-dress that Jason had purchased for full price, refusing to accept the discounted price Nora had offered, over her arm. She waited nervously while Nora unlocked the door, wondering if Jason would say anything to other woman, not quite certain if she wanted him to or not. He did not. And as she sat quietly beside her master on the drive home, she couldn't help wondering what kind of impact tonight's encounter would have not only on her, but on her relationship with Jason. * * * * * * * Thanks for reading. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. And That's the Rub So she paced. And then there was a noise. Someone was out there. She rushed to the office door, stopping suddenly before she reached it. What if it wasn't him? Then there was a knock on the door. "Marsha? I'm back. Open the door." She flew to the door and threw it open. She glared at him as he entered, carrying her clothing with him. "You bastard!" she screamed as she threw herself at him, forcing him against the wall. "You son of a bitch!" she hissed as she threw her arms around him and pressed her lips against his, sucking wildly at his tongue and lips, rubbing her body against him like an animal just brought in from the wild. She grabbed his T-shirt and jerked it over his head. She grabbed his shoulders, turned him, and pushed him backwards to the table, until it was him on his back looking up at her. "Did you miss me?" he asked, a wry smile on his face. "You bastard," she hissed back as ripped open his trousers and pulled them down to his shoes. She bent over and quickly removed and discarded his shoes, and then removed his pants. Without wasting any time, she hopped onto the table, straddled his manhood, and impaled herself upon him, falling forward and into his arms as she pumped her pussy on his meat. Jason quickly answered her desperate call, thrusting his cock into her as she shoved herself onto him, knowing that he wouldn't last long. But she came first, moaning loudly, her face hanging above his. She tried to open her eyes, wanting to watch him watching her. But her orgasm was too intense, and too sudden. When it finally passed, she collapsed on top of him. And slowly, they caught their breath. She raised her head just enough to look at him. "You bastard," she whispered, lowering her lips to his. * * * For a while, they just lay there, recovering from the passion that had consumed them. "We should be going," he said at last. Reluctantly, she sat up and looked down on him, his limp penis having long ago slipped from her pussy. She eased herself off the table, took his outstretched hand, and helped him to his feet. "Where did you go?" she asked as she peered into his eyes. At first, he smiled, and then he started to chuckle softly. "I was sitting in the lounge reading magazines." She looked at him, a puzzled look on her face. "But the elevator. I heard it," she questioned. "Yeah, I figured you might be listening for it, so I called it up before I went to the lounge." The smirk on his face stretched nearly from one ear to the other. She hesitated for a moment, and then laughed. "You bastard." They got dressed in silence, neatened each other up as best as they could and left. When they reached the lot where they'd parked their cars, she hesitated. "Whose car are we taking?" He looked at her before responding. "Both. Tonight, you go to your home, and I'll go to mine. I'll call you in the morning." "But," she stammered. "I thought . . ." She left the thought unfinished. Jason reached out and gently stroked her hair. "You'll need your rest tonight. I've got plans for you tomorrow," he said. They walked to her car in silence. He held the door open for her and waited while she got settled and started the car. She looked at him one more time, before slamming the car into gear and peeling out of the lot. Jason stood and watched until she was gone from sight. "Wow," he said softly, almost reverently, as he turned and made his way to his car. * * * * * * * Thanks for reading. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions.