Her Master Demands (Dark BDSM Erotica) (6 page)

“Information, Avril. I need information. Word has reached my
ears that Willy is interviewing this afternoon. Is this
true?”

“Very!” enthused Avril down the phone, forgetting who she was
speaking to in her excitement. “He’s in there now with him. And
Lord! You wouldn’t believe what a gorgeous hunk... Oops – sorry
Emily!”

‘Trollop!’ thought Emily, furious at the woman. She wanted to
scream the word down the phone, but forced restraint and gathering
her wits.

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like,” Emily admonished. “You
should have alerted me, Avril. You know how Donald likes to meet
any potential new salesman. Just a courtesy of course – he would
never question Willy’s judgement, but he does like to look them in
the eye before an offer is made.”

“Oh, didn’t you know?” gloated Avril. “I’m surprised Donald
didn’t mention it.”

“Know what?” asked Emily, sure that another of life’s little
surprises was about to smack her hard in the face. It was turning
into one of those days.

“Donald has already met him. He’s an internal candidate, but
it wasn’t in the office funnily enough. They met at a reception a
few nights ago.”

“But... But that would have been...”

“The Italian Embassy! I know – Willy was very impressed when
he heard. Not about Donald being there - he’s always getting
invited to such swanky affairs... but it was rather odd for one of
our lowly consultants to be attending an event hosted by the
Ambassador. Anyway, they were introduced by chance: some big shot
banker, I believe... small world, wouldn’t you say?”

“Avril! Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” snapped
Emily.

“It’s hardly my place. If Donald wants to keep you in the dark
then that’s his business.”

Emily bristled at the jibe but forced her calm. “So, I’m
intrigued, Avril... was it Donald who recommended the interview
with Willy, based on the fact this guy managed to blag his way into
the Italian Ambassador’s latest bash?”

“Good Lord, no!” Avril answered, defending her boss like the
tigress she was. “Donald might be the C.E.O., but Willy doesn’t
jump at the snap of his fingers. This was arranged weeks ago. It
was just an odd coincidence that Donald bumped into him. Seems he
made quite an impression – and the Italian banker was very
complimentary.”

“I bet he was!”

“Even still – it is a bit odd.”

“What is?”

“This seriously hot dish getting the interview in the first
place - he’s only been with us for a few months and already he’s
been put up for a job in sales. Now that doesn’t happen very
often!”

“No – it doesn’t,” Emily agreed, mightily impressed; then she
dared to broach a burning question. “In fact it’s unheard of! He
must be quite a man... What’s his name by the way?”

“Adam! Adam Wolf!”

Chapter 8

Emily didn’t feel shocked, she just felt numb. She sat at her
desk, punch drunk from the barrage of surprises that had smacked
her of late, the least of which was Her Master’s name: Wolf – that
was pretty apt! The man was an animal and no mistake; a predatory
beast in the prime of his life.

And he was cunning!

Emily shook her head in stunned admiration. How he had managed
to swing it, Emily had no idea, but it was a marvellous coup: to
have charmed his way into a black tie reception at the Italian
Embassy, no doubt as the guest of Hades, then bumped into Donald
Harper, who just happened to be the C.E.O. of the company he worked
for. That was no happy coincidence; it was a carefully planned
campaign with Hades as an accomplice. And Emily was the Italian’s
reward for getting Adam the invite and singing the Wolf man’s
praises.

Of course, Willy Ross was the real target in all of this, for
it was he who would make the decision as to whether Adam got the
sales job or not. Emily could see it clearly: after the feigned
surprise over the corporate connection, the upcoming interview
would have been slipped into the conversation. Suitably impressed,
a glowing reference would have been passed on by Donald prior to
the event that was happening right now. The job was in the bag –
Adam Wolf had already proved that he was a killer salesman without
Willy having to ask the conniving scoundrel a single
question.

There was more involved – like Avril had wondered: how had
this lowly consultant managed to get the interview in the first
place, after only a few months in the company. Another wheeze no
doubt, but the nature of it hardly mattered to Emily. The main
thing was that Her Master would now be in the sales team, and that
meant he would be a regular visitor to the top floor. There would
be contact beyond the basement – official business and favours to
be asked...

No, not asked. Adam Wolf would ask nothing of Emily Johnson.
When it came to his toy, in the basement or elsewhere, even here on
the top floor which was the seat of Emily’s power... Her Nemesis
only demanded!

An hour or so later, Emily was busy doing some research,
getting background material for Donald on the key people he would
be meeting later at the Savoy – snippets that would be thrown into
conversation to impress, and hopefully win over.

She sensed the presence before she heard or saw it. Emily
looked up with a start and a pounding of her heart. There was Willy
Ross approaching Emily’s glass fronted office door, his hand about
to make a cursory rap. And there beside him was a Wolf in sheep’s
clothing, smiling politely, listening intently - acting like the
dutiful new employee. Emily wondered how long it would take before
the fangs came out and Willy Ross was torn apart. It would be a few
years at least before he was established enough, but Emily was sure
it would happen. Willy Ross was a wily old fox. But a fox is no
match for a hungry wolf – not when he’s decided it’s time to go
after the boss’s job!

“Got a minute, Emily?” Willy asked as he opened the door. It
was a rhetorical question – everyone apart from Donald had a minute
if Willy wanted one.

“Sure,” said Emily, her voice betraying a quiver of
excitement. But that was okay –what red-blooded woman, even one
with a wedding ring on her finger, wouldn’t be excited in the
presence of the man who was following Willy around.

“I’d like you to meet Adam Wolf,” Willy said. “He’s going to
be joining the sales team on Monday. Adam – this is Emily Johnson,
Donald Harper’s P.A. Be nice to her. If you want Donald’s help in a
campaign then it’s Emily you’ll need to beg to free up some of his
time.”

Adam Wolf stepped forward as Emily rose from her chair. The
right hand shot out courteously vertical, not assertively tilting
with the palm face down like most arrogant salesmen preferred to
do. Emily accepted it. The shake was firm but not stupidly
crushing, and lasted the prescribed three seconds, during which
time Adam held Emily’s eyes and beamed her a knee trembling
smile.

“Good to meet you again, Mrs. Johnson,” Adam said as they
shook.

“You know each other?” quizzed Willy.

“Not really,” replied Adam as he freed Emily’s hand but still
held her eyes in a powerful gaze. “We’ve just shared the elevator a
couple of times, and passed a few words. Hopefully now that I’m in
sales, we’ll have the opportunity to get to know each other better.
Sounds like a charm offensive will be in order. I do hope that I’m
up to the task.”

Adam gave Emily a wink as he said this, out of sight of Willy
of course. Then he turned to his new boss and looked at him
expectantly.

“Is Donald still in his meeting with Barry?” asked the Sales
Director.

“Erm – yes!” stammered Emily feeling totally flustered.
“Should be finished soon though, then he’s free for an hour or so
after that. I can call you when it’s over.”

“No, don’t worry – he’s already given the thumbs up,” said
Willy, slapping his new salesman on the back. “The Italian Embassy
- I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, Adam – you’re obviously
better connected than I am.”

Adam feigned a modest blush, shaking his head deferentially
like the expert player he was. Emily watched the act, impressed by
the performance – Her Master’s outward demeanour so different from
what she was used to seeing. But to Emily’s eyes it was still the
same man... a master of control, skilfully at work!

“Okay,” said Willy swallowing it all, welcoming his own
nemesis into the fold. “I’ll take you round to Tessa Clifford now
and get the paperwork sorted out. See you later, Emily.”

“Yes, see you later, Mrs. Johnson,” Adam added as he made to
follow Willy out the door.

“Please, call me Emily,” she said to the Master that was
leaving.

Adam stopped and turned in the doorway. Willy halted as well
only a few yards away. “Emily!” exclaimed the Master. “Oh – well
you must call me Adam if I’m calling you Emily. And are you working
late tonight... Emily?”

“Erm... perhaps... I’m not sure. I could be... I mean... Why
do you ask?” stammered Emily all in a fluster, her eyes flicking
from Her Master to Willy. The Sales Director was blatantly
eavesdropping, his suspicious mind racing, wondering if there was
more to this relationship than claimed.

“I’ll be here till seven,” said Adam. “I’d better stay late
and clear a few things up if I’m to start the new job on Monday. If
you’re still around and in no rush to get home, perhaps I could
make a start on the charm offensive and buy you a drink after
work.”

“Well... yes! That would be... that would be fine,” replied
Emily, her cheeks blushing. It sounded like she’d been asked out on
a date, which of course would be scandalous for a married woman,
but how could she possibly refuse.

Adam smirked. “I’ll see you at seven then... Oh, and Emily –
that’s not very smart!”

“Wha...”

“Your scarf!” said Adam as he took a few steps forward to
stand directly in front of a trembling young woman. “A bit uneven,”
Adam added with a grin as he took hold of Emily’s scarf and
adjusted it, tightening the knot slightly whilst tapping at the
collar that lay beneath. “There! That’s much better. Appearance is
everything – don’t you agree?”

Emily was left speechless – the man was a Master of control
indeed!

Chapter 9

At seven o’clock on the dot Emily was standing alone outside
the elevator door on the top floor, the receptionist having
thankfully gone home at five-thirty. Holding her Chanel bag which
contained her leash, and still wearing her hidden leather collar
under a silk scarf, she excitedly pressed the call button and
watched as the display above the door indicated the answer to the
summons. Emily wasn’t sure what to expect. But whatever was to
unfold – a celebratory drink in a nearby bar, or hopefully
something more intimate – Emily knew that she had been summoned,
just like the elevator, and that she would do whatever Her Nemesis
demanded.

As the elevator approached, Emily’s pulse rate quickened. How
he managed the trick was a mystery, but for the past six weeks when
Emily worked late, Her Master had always been there, waiting inside
the elevator to accompany her down. For the first four weeks it was
only as far as the ground floor, and during the descent Emily had
been verbally abused, subjected to obscenities and vulgar
suggestions which she grew to crave like a drug, hating herself for
her addiction, but always coming back for more. Then on the last
two occasions they had gone further - down to the basement and the
washroom that was there. Emily fervently hoped Her Master would
take her there again this evening and celebrate his new job with
the promised rutting of Emily’s ravenous pussy.

By the time the elevator arrived, Emily’s heart was pounding
like a drum in her chest. The doors parted to that frantic beat and
Emily prepared to offer her congrats, hoping they would be well
accepted. But it was a gasp that she uttered and her heart almost
stopped. Much to Mrs. Johnson’s bitter angst, the elevator was
empty inside! Another of life’s little surprises had smacked her in
the face – and this one really packed a punch. Emily was left
reeling by the vacancy of thin air.

Not sure what to do, Emily held the door open. It had never
crossed her mind to call Her Master to confirm the arrangement and
agree where they would meet. The message had been clear, or at
least it had seemed that way – and Her Master always found her,
here waiting at the elevator door up on the top floor, ready to be
taken down. But perhaps it was just a joke - another teasing game
being played, causing her to stay late then standing her up on the
date.

Emily considered calling Adam Wolf’s extension. She had
already found it out and memorised the number. It would be a casual
call, just to check if he was still in the office – perhaps he was
running late. Naturally Emily would tell him she would wait; or if
there was no reply, she would go down to the basement and hope to
find him there. But that seemed wrong – an order had been given,
albeit disguised as an attempt to charm, and Emily knew she would
be expected to follow it. Checking up on Her Master would only
incur his wrath, and that was not something Emily wanted to
do.

She got in the elevator and pressed the button for the
basement. At this late hour very few people would be about, so it
came as no great surprise that it didn’t stop on the descent. Emily
prayed that it would though – not for some stranger who would be
puzzled by Emily’s subterranean destination – she hoped for Her
Master to join her. With a growing panic with each passing floor,
Emily tried to recall where Her Master had got on at lunchtime.
Third or fourth floor – it was something like that. Emily’s heart
sank when those numbers were passed. In a fit of despair, as she
neared the ground floor, Emily was tempted to stop there – perhaps
Her Master was waiting in the lobby, ready to take her for the
drink that he’d suggested. She resisted. Emily didn’t want a drink
– not in a busy bar at any rate! And that showed no faith, and she
wanted to have faith. She wanted to go to the basement and find Her
Master waiting on the other side of the elevator door.