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Three seconds of ticking silence.
“Decide!”
Nancy seemed to have shrunk. The gloating sense of smug satisfaction on her face had dissolved. She searched my eyes one last time, and saw nothing but blackness and a face carved in stone. She reached for the car door, her cheeks scalded with humiliation.
I watched Nancy step up onto the curb and walk towards the intersection. Her legs were stilted and jerky. She had her hands clasped in front of her. The night air was crisp, so that I could see the steam of her breath. She reached a dark shadow under the umbrella of a tree and looked back at me, her body drawn tense into a silent plea.
I did nothing.
After a long moment she turned and walked in her lingerie all the way to the street corner.
The traffic across the intersection was sparse – perhaps a vehicle every ten or fifteen seconds. Most of them cruised by. A couple slowed, then accelerated away. I lost sight of Nancy as she went around the corner. A moment later she came back into view, prowling anxiously, her eyes fixed on where I sat watching.
I waited for six minutes – long enough for her to know I was serious – long enough for her to understand that she no longer had control of her sex life or her emotions.
I started the car and cruised to the intersection. Nancy saw me coming and froze like a deer caught in the headlights. I pulled up alongside her and pushed the passenger door open. She reached for it gratefully. In the background, above the burble of the car’s engine, I could hear the endless drone of the city.
Nancy leaned inside the car door. I held up a hand to stop her.
“No,” I said. “First, you get down on your knees and beg me to forgive you.”
Nancy’s mouth gaped open. Something dark and liquid moved behind her eyes. I stared at her in a trial of willpower. She lowered her gaze. Her expression faltered and then she sunk slowly down to the blacktop and looked at me with a wrench of beseeching appeal. “I promise to submit and serve you,” she said. Her voice cracked. She choked back a sob. I could see a glitter of tears welling in her eyes. “And I promise I’ll never try to manipulate you again… Master.”
Chapter 22.
When we reached Nancy’s apartment I parked the car out on the street rather than use the underground parking garage. I could see the shadow of a doorman inside the building. He was wandering around aimless and bored. He had a brown uniform shirt on and matching pants.
“What floor do you live on?”
“The ninth,” Nancy said pensively. She was still stinging from her humiliation.
“Put your dress on.”
I heard Nancy gulp with relief. She nodded her head with a tragic kind of gratitude and shucked herself back into her gown.
We got out of the car. Nancy smoothed her dress down her thighs and took a deep breath. She checked her reflection in the car window and pressed at her hair. I snatched her hand possessively and we walked up the stairs and through the double glass doors.
The doorman gave Nancy a silent smile and me a nod of the head. He was an older guy with forgettable features who carried himself with the weary listlessness of someone who was filling in the last years of his life and waiting to die.
Nancy and I went to the elevator and I pushed the button. The building was silent. It was an upmarket complex – lots of marble and dark timber. There were potted plants in the foyer and a couple of landscape paintings on the walls.
“Give me your apartment key,” I insisted.
Nancy dug obediently into her little clasp bag and handed me a key with a black plastic tag attached. I held it up. “I want a key cut for myself – tomorrow,” I said. “And next time you see the doorman, you tell him I am a friend of yours and I will be visiting you a lot.”
Nancy nodded. The elevator doors whispered open. We stepped inside.
As soon as the doors glided shut, I exploded into movement.
With the ease that only comes from practice and experience, I turned Nancy round and pressed her up against a wall so she had her face to the cool stainless steel. She let out a choked shriek of shock, and then one of my hands wrapped around her mouth, muffling the sound. I thrust my free hand up beneath her dress until my palm was rubbing her pussy through the soaked damp heat of her panties.
She stood like a cop was frisking her. Her legs were splayed, her hands planted above her head against the wall. She was trembling with arousal. Her dress was bunched around her hips and she started to pant uncontrollably.
“This is what you can expect,” I rasped with my mouth close to her ear, my body pressing her so she could not move. She was completely vulnerable. “You can expect me to take you and use you whenever I want to – regardless of where we are, regardless of who is around us.” My hand slipped inside the silk of her panties and I felt the wetness of her. She was shaved, soft and smooth and the scent of her arousal hung in the air like a heady perfume. I growled, the sound thick with lust.
Nancy bucked her hips, and then pushed herself back against me provocatively. It was an instinctive gesture – something she had no control over. I slapped her bottom and she sunk her teeth into the fingers of my hand to stifle her moan of pleasure. I pressed two of my fingers deep inside her pussy and she buckled at the waist, then went soft as sexual need overwhelmed her.
Nancy began to gyrate on my fingers, rocking her hips in a slow provocative dance, her movements erotic and sensual, but for her own satisfaction only. I could see the smudged reflection of her face in the stainless steel of the wall. Her eyes were shut, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. She was focusing on her pussy, alert and sensitive to each new sensation as my fingers began to slide in and out of her. I took my hand from her mouth and she gasped. I slid my fingers down around her neck. It was enough to spark a fresh moan of desire. I tightened my grip around her throat and Nancy whimpered. “Yes!” she gasped. “God, yes!”
It was a revealing moment. The tighter my grip on her throat, the more aroused Nancy became. She thrashed her head from side to side and drove herself hard onto my plunging fingers. Her eyes flew wide. She licked her lips and her legs shuffled shamelessly wider apart to give me better access. She was sobbing with an intense craving for release.
I glanced at the digital counter by the elevator door. The 6th floor slid by.
I took a sudden step back. My cock was hard within my jeans. The rush of Nancy’s wet arousal was coated on my fingers. I held my hand to my face and inhaled the aroma. Nancy turned, wild eyed and heaving for air. Her panties had slid down her thighs. Her face was flushed deep red. She clutched at her underwear with trembling fingers and then dabbed at her throat, the burn of my touch still simmering on her skin.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No. I wanted more,” she said. Her voice was reedy and unsteady, as if she had run up a flight of stairs. The elevator counter showed we were passing the 8th floor. Nancy combed her fingers through her hair and took three deep breaths.
When the elevator yo-yoed to a stop, we stepped out into a tastefully decorated passageway with numbered doors on either side. The walls were lined with framed paintings and the carpet was plush. The air smelled of artificial pine freshener. There were recessed lights in the ceiling every twenty feet. The corridor was empty.
“Which apartment is yours?”
“906 – the one at the end,” she gestured with a nod of her head. I followed her to her front door. Nancy stopped and kicked off her heels, clutched them in her hand, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.
I stepped into a large apartment that had all the cozy charm of a scientist’s laboratory. The walls were white, the furniture was white, the carpet was a soft muted shade of grey. I could smell the lingering odor of cigarette smoke. I followed Nancy into a wide kitchen area with white cupboards and grey floor tiles. The only color I could see came from a large potted plant that was in a corner beside a set of sliding glass doors. I went across the living area. The doors opened onto a small priva
te balcony that projected out over the front of the building. I looked down to where my car was parked and then took in the view of the city, lights twinkling in the darkness and the sound of traffic just a distant hum. Carried on the night was the whisper of a cool breeze.
“Nice,” I said as I came back inside through the glass doors. I glanced at the potted plant and realized it was plastic. “Did you do the decorating?” That was sarcasm.
“I’ve never had time to decorate,” she said without noticing. “I’m barely here. Most of my time is spent at the office. The apartment…” she looked around like she was seeing the place for the first time and shrugged her shoulders… “Well it’s just a place to sleep and eat.”
I smiled meaningfully. “And fuck,” I finished her sentence. “And you will be doing a lot of that, I can promise you.”
Nancy nodded her head. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses. I arched an eyebrow. “You were confident,” I taunted her.
Nancy blinked and then blushed like a child caught red-handed. “I was hopeful,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Master!” I snapped.
She lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “I was hopeful, Master,” she repeated the words in a whisper.
I stalked across to the kitchen. Nancy hurriedly set the champagne and glasses down on the counter. “Every time you speak when you are serving me you will call me Master,” I said in a low menacing voice. “Do you understand that?”
