AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’ve been a naughty boy. Haven’t you, Judge Carmichael? I’m not convinced you can be good. Can you?” Olivia crooned, masking the pain in her voice by sheer will alone.
She leaned down and roughly snatched his head back by his silver hair. Placing a kiss against his cheek, she left a red lipstick print on the flushed skin of the supreme court judge. She rolled her eyes at the sickening sight of her lipstick on his skin, curling her lip in disdain of this man.
Perusing his form once more, she let him see her green eyes assess him coldly, wanting him to see her displeasure.
Tilting her head, she took in judge Carmichael’s six-foot one frame, stocky build, and silver hair at fifty-eight years old. He was slightly hairy, and bushy eyebrows framed gray eyes that sat in a sharply defined face that boasted a square chiseled jaw, full lips, and smooth skin. He was not an unattractive man. But at thirty-five years her senior, she didn’t look at him sexually at all.
That was not her understanding of this peculiar situationship that they found themselves in.
However, that didn’t stop judge Carmichael from letting Olivia know he wanted more than dominatrix services from her. He’d asked for more, wanting to take her out properly. Offering to bring her out of the lifestyle and professed he desired to make an ‘honest’ woman of her.
The first year of him commissioning her services, he’d asked constantly for sex. And she almost dropped him as a client. So, he learned to back off.
Nothing had changed in the past four years. He still wanted more, all he demanded from her was for her to give up the lifestyle. And he wanted her to add something to her weekly services with him. She frowned deeply, remembering the night he requested another service.
The judge’s initial request had made her rush to the bathroom and vomit it'd shocked her so badly. His request was so disgusting, degrading, that she vigorously attempted to erase the image that it brought to her mind. She tried hard not to think of it.
Most of her clients paid her for beating, degradation, and sexual dominatrix services. However, she was one of the few females in the underground sex ring who didn’t engage in sexual services. And she was one of five who didn’t let her clients take pleasure from her body. She brought pain only, and that was nonnegotiable.
However, it didn’t stop the judge from asking her yet again to do that thing he liked. And he’d recently brought it up again, asking for seven weeks straight.
She wouldn’t budge on her decision.
“Yes! Yes, I can! Let me prove it!” the judge panted in his deep voice, groaning as Olivia tightened her fingers even harder against his scalp, digging her nails in and scraping gently. He moaned in pleasure as she roughly shoved his head forward, flexing her fingernails against his skin hard.
“Lay down on your stomach, you piece of shit. You sicken me,” Olivia hissed into his ear, waiting for the judge to comply. She rolled her eyes again; grateful he couldn’t see her facial expression as he got himself into place for her. She turned her eyes to the timer perched the bed, wishing the last few minutes to fly by.
She was ready to go home and sleep.
Olivia gingerly placed a sharp heel into his back and used the bedpost to steady herself as she found her balance. The judge let out a harsh groan as both of her heels dug into his back painfully. Sniffing with disgust, she put all her weight on the delicate tips. She swallowed back the revolting feeling of them sinking into the muscle beneath her, and began slowly shuffling across his back.
She hurtled random insults at him until the chime of her phone alarm went off, informing them both that his time was up.
Stepping off his back, she smoothed her hands down her thighs. Readjusting her lacy masquerade mask with one hand, she swiped the phone silent with the other. She untied the judge and watched with arms crossed as the man got up with effort.
Judge Carmichael rose to his feet with a grimace on his face before turning to her and giving her an embarrassed smile. She let him stretch in silence for a second before speaking, noticing the man consistently kept himself in good shape.
“I believe the agreement was an extra one thousand dollars for the additional thirty minutes. With another four hundred for the walking service, on top of our regular hourly fee?” Olivia clipped, business-like.
With supreme effort she kept her tone purposefully bored. She didn’t want her clients to delude themselves into thinking that her services included warmth, sex, or anything mushy. She didn’t do mushy; it just wasn’t in the cards for her, and she’d accepted that long ago.
The older man huffed out a breath, still trying to come down from his high, or whatever sick thing he got from her services. He nodded before going into his closet. Olivia took off the sky-high heels before slipping on a pair of tennis shoes. She listened to the muted beeping as the he entered the code into the safe that was concealed within his closet.
Raising her phone, she beat out a quick text to her connect and boss Gypsy. Letting the woman know she was about to leave her client for the night.
Olivia stood there impatiently. Listening to him rustling around for a minute before reappearing through the door with a thick wad of cash, counting out the bills. Judge Carmichael finished and then handed the wad to her, eyeing her form lustily.
She scrunched her nose at the sight of his desire for her, her lip slightly curling.
Olivia was relieved that she’d already pulled on a light jacket, covering the bustier from his gaze and leaving her leather pants and mask on. She didn’t need him to know what she looked like. That was her business, not his.
Not that he hadn’t attempted multiple times to make it his business. He’d propositioned her several times over the last four years. However, he would not accept any other woman in the underground network that Gypsy built. He iterated strongly that he only wanted ‘Kat’, the name of her alter ego. And to sweeten the deal, he’d paid her more than any other woman was making at the time to keep her.
Consequently, the other clients all caught wind of the arrangement and it caused a ripple effect throughout the underground ring. The clients paid a premium to keep their services, and the women got to have steady clients. And everyone was content in their own version of their happily ever after.
Except judge Carmichael, who continued to badger her for more than her services. And it was annoying.
So, Olivia put firm boundaries in place to ensure that all the men in her clientele folder knew to never expect anything more than what she was. Gypsy’s top beater. The head bitch of the networking escort ring called Esmerelda. Which is truly the only reason she even agreed to work for Gypsy.
