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The Professional: Master for Hire

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The Professional: Master for Hire by Fidelis Blue

After the death of his beloved wife, Marcus vowed not to become emotionally involved with another woman. But for a man of his sexually dominant nature there are needs to be met, and Marcus has found an ingenious way to meet those needs, becoming a “Master for Hire’, a skilled Dominant, who offers his services to submissive women who cannot get the kind of kinky sex play they need by any other means. Women under his domination are forced to submit to their darkest fantasies, stripped, whipped, humiliated and trained to slavishly serve, each one according to their peculiar desires.

In the process, Marcus’ life becomes a dream come true for a Dominant man.

While Marcus takes great pride in his work, he stands aloof from his submissives, determined not to have intercourse with them it’s a hard stand, but one he feels sure will keep his Dom/sub relationships from spinning into dangerous emotional predicaments he’d prefer to avoid. But when the stunning brunette Roxanna crosses his doorstep, Marcus is irresistibly drawn to this fascinating submissive, a woman whose past history has left her with extreme sexual needs and volatile emotions. “I want to be aroused. I want to be mastered. I want to be loved,” she tells him earnestly.

Marcus has no plans to love this woman, but in spite of himself, his affection for her blooms wildly. Even in the face of her cruel and vindictive husband, he cannot resist her allure. He soon learns, however, that the price to have her will be high maybe more than he’s willing to pay.

Weight 0.99 lbs
Artist Credit

Cover Art Thomas Roche – www.skidroche.com

Publish Date

2/24/2006

Page Count

188

Word Count

63148

Excerpt

It was three days after their initial interview that the lovely Georgina arrived at Marcus’s house. He recalled what she’d said in their interview…

 

‘I was brought up in a strictly religious household. Sex was regarded as shameful, even indecent. But at the same time, from an early age I had strong sexual urges…I grew up believing that I was dirty, that my feelings, which were too powerful to be denied an outlet, were proof that I was a bad person. And thus today, even though I have repudiated the religious beliefs that were forced upon me, and their associated sexual restraints, I cannot experience the release of my deepest urges without undergoing some ritual of shame and humiliation. Can you understand what I am saying?’

 

Yes, of course he understood.

 

Today, Georgina wore a blue linen dress, loosely cut above the waist, buttoned up to the throat, with a full skirt. Marcus was intrigued to know what lay beneath; soon he would discover. He ushered her into his study. She knew what to expect. There were to be no preliminaries, no social chit-chat before they began in earnest.

‘Kneel,’ he said.

She got down on her knees in the middle of the floor.

‘In the submissive position,’ he said.

She stretched her hands out in front, palms down, with her forehead pressed to the floor. Her back was arched and her bottom raised.

‘Feet further apart,’ he said.

He put his foot on the back of her neck.

‘Who is your Master?’ he demanded. He pressed his foot down, forcing her face into the floor.

‘You are my Master, sir,’ she said.

‘And who owns you, little girl?’

‘You own me, Master,’ she said.

Marcus walked around behind the kneeling girl. He bent down and lifted the hem of her skirt up over her bottom. Underneath she wore white satin knickers. Her buttocks curved smoothly in a pleasing, womanly shape. He pressed his foot against them, tapping each cheek.

‘Who does this ass belong to?’ he asked.

‘It belongs to you, Master.’

He pushed his foot between her legs, nudging the toe of his shoe against the gusset of her white knickers.

‘Who does this cunt belong to?’

‘My cunt belongs to you, Master,’ she said.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Stand up.’

Georgina got to her feet. Marcus went and sat in the swivel chair behind his desk.

‘Take your clothes off,’ he said.

He watched her as she disrobed. She unbuttoned her dress, then slid it over her shoulders and stepped out of it, folding it carefully and hanging it over a chair. She reached behind her back and undid the white satin bra that matched her knickers. Her breasts were full but firm, the nipples large and dark. She slid the knickers down over her hips and kicked off her shoes. He looked her up and down, feasting his eyes frankly on the sculpted curves of breasts, belly, hips and thighs. A knot of thick black hair covered her sex; he was used to seeing women with carefully trimmed or coiffed bushes, but Georgina’s was in its natural state. Her body had no markings of any kind, neither piercings nor tattoos. It was in keeping with what he perceived as a kind of sexual innocence; he did not know how many lovers she might have had, but she seemed to him a woman whose sexuality had up till now been a largely private matter.

‘Come here,’ he said.

She walked towards him and halted a couple of feet from his chair.

‘Turn round and bend over,’ he said. ‘Show me your ass.’

She bent forward, her legs slightly parted. He could see the little pink rosette of her asshole between the parted buttocks. He opened the drawer to the desk and took out a tube of lubricant. Squirting a little onto his finger, he pressed it to the opening, pushing his finger up inside. She gasped. He wondered if she had ever been anally penetrated before. He moved his finger around inside her, pulled it out and spread more lubricant, pushing it up inside again before withdrawing it. Then from the drawer he took a pink silicone butt plug. It was about four inches long, thin at the end but thicker in the middle before narrowing again down to the wide flat base. He spread lubricant on it till it was slippery, then he slowly pushed it into her. Again she gasped. When he had inserted it up to the hilt he told her to stand up straight.

‘It’s good to have your asshole filled,’ he said. ‘It keeps you centred and grounded, so you always know what you are.’

‘Yes, Master,’ she said dutifully.

‘So what are you, then?’ he demanded.

‘Sir?’

‘What are you?’

‘I’m not sure what to say, sir.’

‘’You’re my possession,’ he said. ‘You’re my creature. My thing. You’re a hole that is there to be filled. A mouth, a cunt, an asshole. And perhaps you’re a little slut, too. We shall come to that.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she said.

From the drawer he took a pair of steel handcuffs.

‘Hands behind your back,’ he said. He snapped the cuffs on her wrists. Next to go on was a heavy leather collar, about two inches wide and decorated with steel studs. He buckled the collar up at the back. Both at the front and at the back was a steel D-ring for attachments. Finally from the drawer he pulled a gag, a red silicone ball fixed to a leather strap which buckled at the back of the head. It was still in its cellophane wrapper. He unwrapped it and held it up so she could see.

‘Open your mouth,’ he said. He pushed the ball between her lips and into her mouth, then did it up tight at the back. He was pleased with the effect. Her face took on a more docile look, her head slightly bowed. It was as if enforced silence automatically made her more submissive.

On the desk was a pack of cards. He sorted through till he found the ace of hearts. He led her by the arm across the room and stood her facing the wall.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘when I place this card up against the wall you will lean forward and press your forehead to it, holding it against the wall. Doubtless you are wondering what is the point of this procedure. The answer is that there is no point. I am making you do it because I can, because it is my whim. You will hold the card there until I tell you to move away. If you let it fall I shall be extremely displeased.’

He left it vague what the consequences might be. True, he wouldn’t use violence against her. But he knew he had the power to force her do a lot of things which would make her feel uncomfortable. He held the card against the wall and guided her forward till her head touched the wall, pinning the card against it. He stood beside her, looking at her, wanting to make her feel her helplessness. He wanted her to experience a loss of dignity, wanted her to feel exposed.

He put out a hand and squeezed one of her breasts. ‘Nice tits,’ he said.

He nudged the breast with his hand, watching it swing slightly, like a bell. She glanced down momentarily at his hand on her, then looked away, embarrassed. He slid his hand down her body, over her belly, then squeezed her left buttock.

‘Great ass,’ he said. ‘The best tits and ass I’ve seen for a long time.’

It was true, but he meant the comment to embarrass her, not please her. He felt between her legs, pressing the lips of her cunt together.

‘Two of your orifices are filled,’ he said. ‘I suppose you’d like something in your cunt, too?’

She kept still, making no response. He pushed a finger up inside her, the other hand from the one which had gone into her ass, and then inserted a second finger. He moved them in and out a little. She made a slight noise in the back of her throat.

‘Getting through to you, am I?’ he said, a slight note of mockery in his voice.

He took his fingers out and held them up to her eyes.

‘They’re wet,’ he said. ‘Why are you wet?’

He wondered what she would say if she could speak. He held his fingers under her nose, then wiped them against her cheek.

‘I’ll tell you why you’re wet,’ he said. ‘It’s because you’re a little slut. You’d like a nice hard cock in there, wouldn’t you?’

She coloured slightly, staring straight ahead at the wall.

‘I’m going to leave you here a little while, to give you time to think about things. Then I’m going to come back and give you some obedience training.’

He knew she would spend the time wondering what the training consisted of. He went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of red wine. He took a single wine glass from the cupboard and a small china bowl. He set them all on a tray. He took it to the back room where all his equipment was. From a drawer he took a heavy silver chain with a leather handle at the end. Carrying the tray and the chain he returned to the study, where he found Georgina with her head still pressed against the wall. He set the tray on his desk and went up to her. He clipped the chain on to the back of her leather collar. Then he pulled it hard so that her head was jerked back and the card fell to the floor.

‘My, that was careless,’ he said. ‘You let the card drop. I think this means you need some serious training.’

He unlocked the handcuffs, then, putting his hand on the back of her neck, he pushed her down on all fours. He wound the chain round his hand a couple of times to take up the slack and pulled it tight. She grunted through her gag.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘we are going walkies. From time to time I shall issue a command. On the word “heel” you will stop and rest back on your haunches, hands behind your back. On the word “down” you will kneel in the submissive position. On the word “beg” you get up on your knees with your hands either side of your face, palms outwards, like a little dog begging for a biscuit. You won’t get one but you’ll get something else if you get it wrong.’

Suddenly he jerked the chain and set off, partly leading her, partly dragging her behind. She did her best to keep up with him, crawling behind him as he walked out of the door and along the hall. Then he stopped.

‘Heel,’ he snapped.

There was a moment’s hesitation before she got into position. When she was sitting back on her heels, he pulled the leash hard, forcing her head up.

‘I want an instant response,’ he said.

He set off again, jerking her forward. She scurried after him as fast as she could. They went into the kitchen, circling the room before he stopped again and called out, ‘Down.’

She scrambled into the submissive position, arching her back to raise her bottom.

‘That’s better,’ he said.

Once more he yanked hard on the leash, pulling her back along the hall.

‘Heel,’ he said.

For half a second she began to get herself into the submissive position, then remembered and leaned back on her heels.

‘Bad dog,’ he said, jerking the leash. He leaned down and slapped her across the face. She whimpered, trying to pull her head away, but he held it fast with the leash.

‘Next time, get it right,’ he said, and slapped her again. They weren’t hard blows, certainly not damaging, but they were enough to sting, and he knew that her vulnerable position would give them greater effect.

He walked quickly back into the study, then stopped.

‘Beg,’ he said.

Again there was a slight hesitation before she took up the position. He stood over her as she knelt, hands up in a suppliant position. He slapped her again across the face.

‘Pay attention,’ he said. He slapped her again. ‘Are you paying attention?’

She nodded quickly.

‘Very well. Now we’re going to try something different,’ he said. ‘And once again if you don’t perform satisfactorily, you’ll be sorry.’

He noticed that she was drooling slightly, saliva escaping from the side of her mouth and trickling down her chin. He reached down and unfastened her gag, then wiped her mouth gently.

‘Now,’ he said, reaching into his pocket for a small rubber ball, ‘we’re going to play. I throw the ball and you fetch it back in your mouth, as quick as you can.’

He undid the leash, then tossed the ball away. It bounced across the floor and came to rest under a table. Georgina scuttled across the floor in pursuit. Marcus watched her lovely ass as it swayed from side to side while she crawled. She seized the ball in her mouth and brought it back to him, lifting up her head so he could take it. He stretched out his left hand for her to drop the ball in his palm, then without warning he slapped her face again.

‘Too slow!’ he said. ‘You need to be much quicker.’

He tossed the ball away again. She turned and raced after it, the muscles of her bottom taut as she crawled at speed, the plug firmly lodged in her anus. She brought back the ball and dropped it in his palm, then flinched as if expecting another blow.

‘Better,’ he said, ‘but still not good enough.’

He threw the ball again. She turned with alacrity. As she stopped to gather the ball in her mouth he could see the pink lips of her cunt half-hidden by the black curls of her pubic hair. Desire stabbed him in the groin. Jesus, I’d like to fuck her, he thought. She raced back to return the ball.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘One more time.’

He tossed the ball and she moved quickly across the floor. But as she bent her head to retrieve it, the ball escaped the grasp of her teeth and rolled away. She went after it and brought it back, dropping it into his palm.

‘Not so good,’ he said. ‘You know what’s going to happen?’

She nodded and raised her head meekly. He hit her with a stinging blow across the cheek. Her eyes filled with tears.

‘Now comes the third part of training,’ he said. He poured some of the red wine into the bowl and set it on the floor.

‘The little dog has at least shown some improvement,’ he said. ‘So she deserves some refreshment. Lap it up.’

She bent down to the bowl and her tongue came out. It was a tricky technique to scoop the liquid up into her mouth, but after a while she got the hang of it. After five minutes the wine was gone.

‘Lick the bowl,’ he said.

She licked all round until it was clean. He reached down and scratched her behind the ear.

‘Good dog,’ he said. ‘Now kiss your Master’s feet.’

She lowered her head to the floor and pressed her lips against his shoes, first one, then the other.

He sat down on a chair. ‘Now take my shoes off,’ he said.

She unlaced them and took them off.

‘Now the socks.’

When his feet were bare he told her to kiss them. After she had done so, pressing her warm mouth against his toes, he told her that she must suck the toes of his right foot, one by one, starting with the little toe. The delicate eroticism delighted him as he felt each toe sucked into her mouth, felt her tongue slide over it. For some reason he thought this must be what it was like if a fish nibbled your toes under water. When she had finished sucking his big toe he told her to lie on the floor with her legs either side of the chair, with her knees bent.

‘Show me your cunt,’ he said. ‘Open it for me.’

She pulled apart the plump lips, exposing the delicate pink coral inside.

‘Show me your clit,’ he said.

She pulled her labia upward, uncovering the little bud, a paler colour than the surrounding hood.

‘How often do you masturbate?’ he asked.

There was silence for a moment. He could see that she was blushing.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It’s hard to say.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ he countered. ‘Is it every day, three times a week, more than once a day?’

‘Once a day, sometimes more,’ she said.

‘Do you use your hand or a vibrator?’

‘My hand,’ she said. ‘I haven’t got a vibrator.’

He wasn’t surprised, though it certainly made her an exception among his acquaintanceship.

‘Do you ever put anything inside yourself, vegetables, for example?’

She hesitated. ‘I tried a cucumber,’ she said. ‘And a candle.’

‘Has anyone ever watched you masturbate?’

‘No.’

‘But you have thought about someone making you do it while they watched.’

‘Yes.’

‘Anyone in particular?’

‘Yesterday I thought of you,’ she said.

Marcus was gratified. It was good to know how close he had come to understanding her.

‘Show me what you do when you masturbate,’ he said.

She put the middle finger of her right hand against the side of her clit and began to rub. With her other hand she began to stroke her breasts, pinching her nipples lightly. He watched for a while, noticing that the rubbing of her clit was slowly increasing in speed. Every now and again she dipped a finger into her cunt and spread her juices around her clit. She had closed her eyes and her breathing was slow and deep.

‘Stop,’ he said.

‘What?’ She raised her head to look up at him.

‘Did you think I would just let you please yourself?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t thinking about it.’

‘How does the plug in your ass feel?’

‘It feels good,’ she said.

‘Have you ever put your finger in your ass?’

‘No, sir,’ she said.

‘You should try it,’ he said. ‘A little slut like you would enjoy it. Now resume masturbation.’

He watched her touch herself for a couple more minutes. He wondered if she was less conscious of him now, concentrating more on her pleasure. He wanted her to remain aware of him watching.

‘Stop,’ he said.

He saw a look of disappointment cross her face.

‘Now sit up.’

He told her to move her position so that she was seated on the floor with her back to the sofa. That way she could look at him while he watched. He pulled his chair closer and told her to open her mouth so he could put his toe in it again.

‘Masturbate some more while you suck my toe,’ he ordered.

She resumed, slowly rubbing her clit with her finger.

‘Look at me,’ he said.

While she looked him in the eye he moved his foot from her mouth and put it between her labia. Her cunt was oozing now and as he pushed his foot forward his toe slid in easily. A sensation, part pleasure, part shame, passed across her face. Marcus was reminded of how when he was a little boy at the seaside he would find sea anemones in rock pools and push his finger into the open centre of their pink holes, feeling them delicately sucking on him.

She continued to masturbate. ‘Don’t come unless I give you permission,’ he said. ‘Let me know when you are close. And keep looking at me.’

While her finger coaxed her clit closer to a climax Marcus talked to her in a low voice.

‘The moment I first saw you I knew what you were. I knew you wore plain, loose-fitting clothes so that people wouldn’t suspect what a horny little slut you are. But I could tell just from looking at your face that your mind was full of fantasies of sex, that lewd and lascivious thoughts filled your head every waking moment. I knew that your cunt ached for cock, that it drooled with desire for a man to fill it. I knew that you were a masturbator who couldn’t keep her hands out of her knickers. I knew your little clit itched to be rubbed. You cultivate the manner of a modest and chaste young woman, but it doesn’t fool me for one minute. There is lust in your eyes. You’re a slut, a horny little bitch who would crawl on her knees to any man who would fuck her. Let me tell you what I’d like to do with you. I’d have you tied up naked, your arms over your head in a public place, in a men’s club, and customers could come and look at you and handle your tits and your ass and push their fingers into your slippery little cunt, and then they’d know what a little slut you are. And some of them would lift up one of your legs and ram their cocks into you as you stood there. How would you like that?’

She mumbled something incoherent. He watched as she continued to stroke herself. He wriggled his toe inside her.

‘I’m getting close now,’ she said.

‘Go slow,’ he said. ‘Don’t come yet. Tell me what you are, first.’

‘I’m a slut, Master,’ she said. ‘A dirty little slut.’

He watched her face go pink with shame. ‘Come for your Master, little slut,’ he said at last, and she gave a little cry as her hips shook with her orgasm. He kept his toe inside her and felt her cunt contract around it. When she was still he took it out.

 

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