Her Master Demands (Dark BDSM Erotica) (7 page)

Desperately hoping, but steeling herself for bitter
disappointment, Emily arrived at her destination. The doors opened
onto the semi-darkness, but there was sufficient light to confirm
her fears - no one was there to greet her.

She was convinced now that it was all a malicious joke – Her
Master was probably in a bar with Willy Ross and the rest of the
sales team, all of them having a laugh at Emily’s expense. She
shook her head, angry with herself for being such an easy target –
for allowing a man to hurt her like this, taking the relationship
out of the office and making a mockery of it into the bargain. She
was about to press the button and go to the lobby then head off
home. But she couldn’t give up – there was still a final straw to
clutch at. There was one further stage to this humiliation, and she
knew where she had to go.

Emily made a step forwards - her legs felt like lead wading
through water. Then suddenly the weight of the world was lifted as
she heard Her Master’s voice shouting from round the corner where
the washroom lay.

“What’s taking you so long, Blondie? Hurry up and get your ass
in here. Only plastic cups I’m afraid, but the champers is the real
deal!”

The teasing scoundrel! It was another game all right, but not
maliciously evil. But then that was the way with him: always
surprising; tossing you around; playing with your mind; showing you
the extremes – the highs and the lows. And from the depths of
despair Emily soared. Now happier than a kid on Christmas morning,
she set off as commanded, floating on air. She rounded the corner
and saw the harsh light of the washroom creeping through its
slightly ajar door. Following that light, Emily rushed. A drink had
been bought, and it was charming all right – Champagne no less –
the perfect way to toast success, in the best possible location,
here in the basement. With a smile on her face that she knew could
be wiped off at the least provocation or whim, she arrived and
opened the door...

She froze.

Pleasures can be brief – so very, very brief!
‘...like poppies spread,’
the Scottish bard had said.
‘You
seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed.'
And
never had those words rung truer than in the head of Emily Johnson,
two centuries after Robbie Burns had penned them.

The smile disappeared – the Chanel bag she carried slipped
from her hand to fall with a thud on the hard cement
floor.

“Cheers!” said the Master, raising his cup in
salute.

“Cheers!” echoed Tessa Clifford with the same smug grin on her
face that washrooms seemed to inspire for her. Or was it something
more sinister in the dank basement air that put the evil smirk
there?

The plastic cups were touched. “Congratulations Adam,” Tessa
added. Then to top it all off, and twist the knife that had pierced
poor Emily’s much abused heart, Tessa had the audacity to kiss the
new salesman’s cheek before turning to Emily in triumph. “Surprised
to see me here, Emily?” the venomous snake hissed. “I bet you are!
And not best pleased either, I’ll wager. Whereas me! For once in my
life I’m delighted to see you, Emily. So don’t be shy. Come and
join us and have some bubbly... you look like you’re in serious
need of a drink!”

Chapter 10

“Wha... What’s she doing here?” stammered Emily, looking
pleadingly at Her Master for some explanation, hoping beyond hope
that the awful premonition that was wringing her guts would prove
to be another unfounded fear.

“She’s here to celebrate my success, Blondie - just like you
are. So pour yourself some fizz – the bottle’s over there, chilling
in some ice,” said the Master nodding towards the
washbasin.

Emily looked at him searchingly, knowing that something
ominous was afoot. On the surface it appeared innocent enough – if
you ignored the fact they were in the basement washroom where
Emily’s experiences had been far from innocent. Adam Wolf’s poker
face was revealing nothing – he was putting on a facade of
celebratory normality in this highly abnormal location for a party.
He was fully clothed, as thankfully was Tessa – the only hint of
impropriety had been that peck on the cheek. But this was bad news
– this was very bad news – Emily didn’t like it one little
bit.

A quick glance to Tessa confirmed her suspicion. Unlike Adam
Wolf’s handsome mask of concealment, that woman’s evil face was a
storybook, and the tale it was telling was a portent of doom. She
was smirking wildly – a manic look in her spiteful eyes. It was a
look of triumph.
‘To the victor the
spoils,’
it screamed at Emily,
‘and guess what... you’re the prize.’

Finally reacting, Emily shook her head and backed away,
wanting to flee this hideous situation.

“Do as you’re told!” yelled Her Master – his face suddenly
stern, hard and unforgiving. “I gave you an order, Blondie, so you
obey! Don’t make me angry on today of all days.”

It was as severe a demand Her Master had ever made. Unable to
defy him despite her dark foreboding, Emily reluctantly made a move
forward, staggering like a drunk towards the Champagne. She reached
the washbasin where the bottle was embedded in a pile of crushed
ice, and with shaking hands poured out a splash into a plastic cup.
She raised it to Her Master who watched on expectantly. “Cheers!”
Emily said with moistening eyes. “Congratulations on your
success... Adam.”

“Adam! Adam!” yelled the man, his face now fuming with rage.
“That’s two mistakes in as many minutes, Blondie. Now don’t make a
third, or by God you’ll regret it.”

Emily cowered under the verbal onslaught. She bowed her head
in shame, knowing what she must do - the words she was about to say
crushing her spirit. This would hurt her more than any physical
blow.

“Sorry, Master. Please forgive me.”

“OH! MY! GOD!!!! She actually said that!” screeched Tessa,
delighting in Emily’s display of submission. “She actually calls
you Master! How humiliating! You know, Adam – I didn’t think you
could deliver this part of the bargain. I would have settled for...
well, you know what I’m really looking forward to later on... But
to see this stuck up little pompous bitch humbled like this – it
really is the icing on the most delicious cake.”

It was unbearable. Emily wanted the earth to open up, swallow
her whole then spit her back out as a corpse. In her wretched
despair, she could see the final piece of the jigsaw now fitting -
and as with the Italian, Emily was the reward for the help Her
Master was given...

As head of Human Resources, Tessa Clifford would have been
involved in Adam Wolf’s recruitment, and probably the deal had been
agreed from the start. The plum job in sales that Adam wanted was
out of the question without a glowing track record with another
company in the same field. Willy Ross wouldn’t consider an external
candidate otherwise. But if Adam thought he was good enough and
wanted a chance to get in front of the Sales Director to prove it,
then Tessa could facilitate the interview after Adam had served a
few months in consultancy. Such an intervention would come at a
price however – Tessa Clifford wasn’t the type of viper who did
anyone a favour without something in return. Part of that price was
obviously Adam in some form or another – a sexual favour he would
be obliged to perform. Emily shuddered at the very idea! But the
other part was clearly Emily, making a spectacle of herself – Tessa
witnessing her humiliation. Emily shuddered again, wondering how
far her disgrace would have to go before Tessa had extracted her
spiteful pound of flesh.

“Get her to do more, Adam!” cackled Tessa, evidently far from
satisfied yet. “I want to see her grovel... Make her grovel to
me!”

“You will get what you asked for, Tessa,” assured Adam. “I
told you – I am a man of my word and will make good my promises.
But all in good time... watch first, and then you may
experience.”

A snap of Adam’s fingers then a point towards the floor gave
Emily all the instruction needed. Whimpering in shame, she fell to
her knees positioned in front of Her Master.

“Oh, that is beautiful! She’s like a dog!” hollered Tessa.
“This is truly the happiest day of my life! Three long years I’ve
yearned to see this – Emily Johnson brought to her
knees.”

Adam looked down at her, reached out and touched a scalding
cheek that radiated Emily’s embarrassment. He made her cringe when
the hand was lowered and a finger again tapped the scarf hidden
collar. Horror upon horror, Emily thought she would die of it –
Tessa seeing her symbol of slavery would be a wound too severe to
survive. But much to her relief, the scarf remained in place. It
was another demonstration that Adam would make.

“Give me your cup,” said Emily’s Master, his calm voice such a
contrast to the accompanying hysteria in the room.

Emily obeyed, raising her cup with its splash of Champagne and
offered it to Her Master. She looked up at his stern face
pleadingly, tears rolling freely down her scarlet
cheeks.

“Drink!” was the command given.

The Master poured out the Champagne onto the palm of his hand
which he cupped to hold the fizzing liquid. He offered it to Emily
who immediately lapped it up, adoring the flesh that held the
drink. As she drained the palm and carried on licking, she tried to
block out the audience and think only of the act – the display of
submissive worship. But it was impossible to do. Tessa’s screams of
laughter stabbed her repeatedly in the heart, making her presence
all too apparent and Emily’s mortification all the more
wounding.

“Stop now!” Adam eventually said.

Emily halted immediately and maintained her position, kneeling
subserviently at Her Master’s feet.

“That was a simple demonstration,” Adam casually informed
Tessa. “She’ll debase herself further though – in fact I don’t
think there’s a depth our Mrs. Johnson won’t sink to.”

Emily cringed at the words. She feared that Her Master was
going to put that to the test.

“Such as?” gushed Tessa. “Show me how low the pathetic little
madam will go.”

“Well, she’ll deliver what you asked for - half of the bribe
that you demanded.”

“Bribe!” exclaimed Tessa indignantly. “That’s a bit
strong!”

“Oh come on now Tessa, don’t take offence,” said Adam,
laughing the remark off. “It’s the way of the world – everyone does
it. Come on, your cup is empty - have another drop of Champagne –
we’re celebrating. No need to get hung up on a little
word.”

“Yes, well – we are celebrating,” agreed Tessa, wanting to be
mollified by this gorgeous hunk of a man. “But that was a bit
harsh, Adam.”

It was left at that. No further placation. “Go fetch the
bottle, Blondie!” demanded the Master. “My good friend Tessa wants
some more Champagne.”

“Yes Master,” whimpered Emily as she got up to obey. She
fetched the bottle and held down the bile rising in her stomach as
she served Tessa Clifford, half-filling her cup, refusing to look
at the chortling bitch.

“As I was saying,” continued Adam whilst Emily performed her
task. “Blondie here will do whatever I tell her, and that includes
delivering against the bribe... Oh sorry – there I go again... if
I’m going to succeed in sales then I’d better start choosing my
words more carefully... Meeting the rather exacting conditions you
set for putting me forward to Mr. Ross.”

“Okay Adam!” said Tessa, a little testily. She was a bitch
after all and she knew how to bark. “I think you’ve made the point.
Don’t rub it in. You got what you wanted, and I’m getting exactly
what I wanted. So let’s see a bit more grovelling as we finish the
Champagne... then we can go back to my place for part two of the
bargain.”

“Humph! We need to finish part one properly first... Are you
ready Tessa?”

“Oh I’m ready. What are you going to make her do?”

“Exactly as you asked... so lift up your skirt and drop your
knickers... Blondie here is going to kiss your ass!”

“What!” screeched Tessa. “You’ve got to be kidding
me!”

“But that’s what you said! Or did I hear you wrongly?”
answered the Master, a puzzled look thrown onto his face. “I asked
for a chance to move into sales and you said you could swing it,
but it would cost. You said you wanted me to fuck you, and for
Emily Johnson to kiss your ass. Is that not the case?”

“Well yes,” said Tessa, thrown by Adam’s accusing tone.
“But...”

“But what?” interrupted Adam, sounding ominously offended.
“But you didn’t really mean it? You were only joking when you made
me promise that I would fuck you if I got the
interview?”

“Well... Well no – I do want that part of it. Of course I want
you to sleep with me.”

“Sleep with you! I don’t think so! But I will fuck you!” said
Adam dismissively, apparently un-phased by this gruesome prospect.
“And the other thing you insisted on was that I set things up so
that Emily Johnson would get down on her knees, grovel before you
and kiss your ass. Was that not the case?”

“No!” snapped Tessa getting increasingly flustered. “Well, yes
– the first part – the grovelling. But as for the ass kissing - it
was only a figure of speech, for crying out loud! I didn’t mean it
literally.”