Bought By The Billionaire

Grabbing the bottle of baby oil, I slide it inside myself. My aching cunt welcomes it, taking it in as I first test for fit, and then plunge it deep inside, fucking myself hard, again and again. The bottle is slippery with oil and slick with my juices, but I ram it home, over and over. At some level, I am conscious that the headboard is clattering against the wall, but I don’t care.

Now my orgasm builds, the tension mounting, blood pounding in my ears, my body arched rigidly, my thighs shuddering and trembling in my search for climax.

With an unquenchable heat, my orgasm takes me. My pussy sends pulsating spasms through my body. My thighs and stomach throb and clench in a rhythm that takes me completely, and I cry out, still working the bottle inside myself, making the ecstasy last as long as I can, drawing out the moment when my Master will leave me.

Pumping away at myself, I hold onto the crescendo as long as I can, before it becomes unbearable, and with a gasp, I whip the bottle out of my still spasming cunt and lie, gasping and panting, on the mattress.

As the climax passes and my breathing slows, there is banging on the wall. “Keep that fucking noise down!”

To hell with the neighbours. I’ll be out of here soon.

*****

I do not see my Master for some days while he is out of town. When he does reappear at the office, on the occasions that I see him, he seems distracted and says little to me. I wonder if I have done something wrong, or worse, if he is growing tired of me.

Then, Francis, his personal assistant, buzzes me. “Beth, can you come up, please? He wants to see you.”

“I’m on my way.”

As I step out of the lift, Francis is sitting behind her desk outside the office, a thoughtful expression on her face. There are angry voices coming from behind the door to Richard’s office.

Francis meets my eyes with raised eyebrows. “Hi, Beth. I’d take a seat if I were you. I don’t know how long this is going to be.”

picks up the phone. “Frank? Yes? Can you send security up to the tenth floor, please? Yes,

closed, he sees me and takes a step towards me, murder in his

I sit back in my chair as Mack steps closer to me, one hand

out of his office, looking stern but calm. “Francis, can you call Security, please … Ah, already here, I see. Thank

Francis. “Francis, please clear Mr Kane’s desk

jabbing a finger in my direction with a clear threat in his eyes. “You bitch. You haven’t heard the last of

baffled. “I’m sorry, but

of my staff, Mr Kane? Should we

doors swish closed behind them, Richard turns to Francis. “Make sure

nods. “Yes,

Exhaling, he says, “Francis, a pot of coffee, please, as soon as you get the chance. Elizabeth, in

and he waves me to the

and then when I investigated more deeply, it was quickly clear that what appeared to you to be the case, in fact, was the case. Someone was, in effect, having the same goods and services charged for twice,

leaves again. Richard pours two coffees,

can’t tell you how grateful I am for your quick wits and your eye for detail. A lot of people would have, if they had spotted the problem at all, passed over the mystery and moved

implications. “What will happen to him? Will you call

him out, unexpectedly, today. No doubt if the police came in, he would have his answers ready, and in the meantime, the company’s shares would be falling. No,

made him think

files you’d been looking at, and which projects you’d focused on. It didn’t take him long to work it

thought he was going to