Admission Submission Ch. 06

Special thanks to my co-creator, Mandibularfossa. She's hot AND talented!

She looked forward to this night every week. The secretary stepped out of her leased Accord and walked coolly into the east side apartment building. She'd spent all week watching Mr. Foster, taking care of his business, helping him with clients and coffee and, lately, media and campaign business. Now it was her turn to take care of the man, his personal side. He was a strong man, and he was going to be a great Congressman, and the secretary was proud to help both sides, public and private. She wasn't sure what he saw in her, what made him want to be with her, but she knew that she was going to be on his team no matter what.

Rachel Mendelssohn was plain, and she knew it. She knew that her skin was ok, neither alabaster pale nor tanned and freckled but just a little oily, a little prone to acne despite her best attempts. As a teenager, she'd been called "plain yogurt" by a close friend, and it had stung her. When she went to school for business, she was determined to reinvent herself. Now, two years out of college with her associate's in business administration, she had shaped herself into the sexy, exotic and alluring creature she desperately wanted to be. She had been determined upon getting this job as an admin assistant in the high powered office of Banks & Jones that she would be sexy. In her mind, she wasn't going to be Rachel. She was going to be Saffron-wicked, powerful, and infinitely sexy.

Before she went to her first day of work, she overhauled her entire wardrobe- everything comfy or childish was evacuated and sent to Goodwill, leaving only the structured and 'professional' outfits she would be allowing herself to wear from now on. Even her lingerie got the same treatment- only thongs and lace and underwire remained. In the coming weeks, most of her generous salary would go towards her clothes.

She rapidly remade herself into the person she'd always wished to be, getting a fake tan and full body waxing. She learned to paint a fierce cat's eye in liquid pitch black liner on her upper eyelid and painted it on every day. She collected a series of lipsticks and stains that screamed "SEX" to her- blood red and dark vampy plum.

When she moved from the admin assistant pool to Richard Foster's office, she knew her hard work was beginning to pay off. She carefully adjusted her stockings to show off her body to its best advantage-uncomfortable, but they made her legs look incredible. Still, even with all her strides in becoming the smart, sexy woman she wanted to be, she was still Rachel "plain yogurt" Mendelssohn on the inside.

She put her key in the door and stepped into the luxury apartment. Richard had rented it so they'd have a private place to be together, a place where he didn't have to be his public, campaign persona, a place where they could relax and she could take care of him. She knew he was married, and he knew his wife was a frigid, spoiled creature who just didn't understand him. He was a powerful man, and Rachel felt like it was her job to take care of him. Richard was waiting for her with a drink. "God, it's been far too long since I've seen you," she said, wrapping her arms around him.

"You're goddamned delightful!" Richard pulled her close and kissed her hard. Their lips met, and she kissed him warmly. "You look fantastic, sweetie."

"Thanks, babe. I put on the stockings just the way you like." Rachel twirled, giving Richard a view of her toned legs and sexy ass. She had long since graduated from buying her own clothing - now her biweekly clothing purchases went on a special credit card Dick himself had given her.

Richard pulled her tight to him. "Do you know how hard it is to sit in my office knowing that you're right outside?"

"I bet it's real hard, baby," Rachel said, rubbing his chest.

"It's like being a tiger in a cage!" He tugged her towards the bedroom. "I just want to maul you!" Richard pushed Rachel into the bed and jumped after her, pinning her arms and mashing his lips against hers. With a sigh, she parted them slightly, and moaned when his tongue slipped into her mouth and began to explore her. She was already wet, her heart pounding as the connection she'd needed all week was finally happening. Despite his aggressive words, Dick was fairly vanilla in the bedroom. His standard approach to romancing his secretary /mistress involved two minutes of kissing before laying back with his hands behind his head and allowing Rachel to take over.

Rachel didn't mind. She watched him work all week, talking and shaking hands and motivating his employees and campaign staffers alike. She was happy to take care of him, to make sure he felt loved and sexy and cared for - after all, he made her feel the same way. She backed off the bed and slowly undressed, sliding down the zipper on her skintight dress with agonizing slowness. She loved feeling his eyes on her, hearing his breathing quicken as she slid off the dress and let it fall to the floor.

As sexily as possible, she shimmied out of the high waisted stockings. It was a tough thing to do gracefully, but she had spent an afternoon practicing in front of a mirror until she'd perfected it, with just the right number of glances upwards from under her heavy lashes. This gave her an innocence that she knew Richard found comforting and attractive. Now clad in only her black lace bralette and thong, she climbed back on to the bed on all fours and began to undress her lover. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, then stopped coquettishly and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Baby," cried Richard in mock agony, "Come on!"

"What?" Saffron said, all innocence and surprise. "Is there something you want?"

She continued to unbutton his shirt as if she hadn't a care in the world. Richard loved this game, and sighed dramatically as she took her time removing his shirt and socks. He balked when she went to fold them, however. Rearing up off the bed, he grabbed her by the hips and yanked her back on to his lap. He wrapped her in his arms and covered her whole face with kisses, making her giggle. He dove into her neck and began to gently bite and suck, turning the giggling into gasps of delight. Now she was on her back, with Richard poised over her. He looked over her body admiringly, and she wanted to catch this moment and hold it forever in her heart.

He reached out to her bra and gently fingered the pretty little metal clasp. She caught his hand and guided him to press on the button that released the catch, and he grinned as the bra came apart and revealed her lovely breasts. He dipped his head to press a kiss to each pink nipple, and they stiffened at the contact. Too quickly, he moved away and Rachel shoved down her disappointment at the lack of attention. No matter, she knew there was only so much guidance men could take before you hurt their feelings and then no one was having any fun.

Richard moved down her body, kissing her stomach and her hip bones before breathing warm breath onto her pussy, over her lacy thong. "Baby," she said plaintively, and that was all he needed. Rapidly, he slid her thong over her hips, the sudden rush of cool air on her pussy making her aware how wet she was. He pulled out his cock and slid on a condom, just like always. He drove his cock into her hard and fast, and she yelped involuntarily.

Not wanting to discourage him, she covered it up with a moan of pleasure as he continued pounding away. She knew this was exactly what he needed, and she was happy to give it to him. He grunted, and she knew he was close to finishing. She stepped up the moaning, wanting to make him feel like he was the only man in the world, and as he came he cried out, "RRGH I love you!"

He collapsed onto her and she wrapped her legs and arms around him, holding him tight. This was her favorite part - when they were the only two people in the world and he was completely hers, spent and exhausted in her arms. "I love you too, baby."

If the couple suspected they were being watched, they didn't show it, but Jim had recorded the entire tryst. He had used some of his investigator connections to install the covert surveillance equipment nearly a month ago, after Susanna had shared her husband's indiscretion with him. It had taken him no time to track Richard Foster to his rented love nest and the pattern, meeting every Wednesday night, became clear right away. With such a clear schedule, it was easy for Jim to slip inside and plant a couple of bugs and a pinhole camera. After that, all he had to do was watch and record.

From his car in the garage, Jim watched Rachel leave and slipped into the apartment building behind her. He knew exactly where he was going, and in less than a minute, he was knocking on the door of Richard Foster's love nest. Knock, knock, knock.

Foster must have been getting ready to leave, because the door came open right after the third knock. "You forget your keys again, sweetie?"

Jim smiled. "No, sweetie," he said, sticking his foot in the door to stop Foster from slamming it shut. "I'm here because we need to talk, Dicky."

"Who the fuck are you?" Foster reached for his phone.

"I wouldn't do that," Jim said, stepping into the room. "I'm not here to hurt you, Dicky, but if you don't put your phone down, you'll wish I had."

Foster appeared to think it over for a second before setting his phone down. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Jim picked up Foster's phone and pointed to the bar. "Why don't you pour us a drink," he said, sitting on the soft leather couch. Say what you want about future congressman Richard Foster, but the man had impeccable taste in furniture. And women.

"What do you want?"

"Scotch. Rocks."

Foster poured the drinks and sat them on the coffee table. He sat, heavily, in the recliner across from Jim. "You have my attention," he said, taking a sip.

Jim swirled the scotch, enjoying the sound of ice tinkling in the glass. "How's the campaign?"

"It's fine. We're up 12 points. Who are you?"

"You can call me Mr. X. My name doesn't really matter. What matters is that I know about little Rachel, and I know that it could derail your campaign. Fast."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Foster said. He was an accomplished liar, Jim noted.

"I think you do. You know, Sweetie who forgets her keys?"

"That's my assistant," Foster countered.

"Your assistant meets you at a rented," Jim looked around, "and really well appointed apartment every Tuesday?"

"It's just business. Campaign stuff."

Jim pulled the recorder from his pocket. It had picked up most, if not all of Foster's escapades from the last few hours. He sat it on the table. "Does that business include her sucking your cock or riding you on the couch?"

Foster took another drink. "OK. What do you want?"

"Look," Jim said, "you have my vote, if that's what you're worried about."

"Well that's a relief," Foster said. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you, of course."

"For cash?"

Jim laughed. "God no. Though I might want to borrow this apartment from time to time."

"Fine. If you don't want money, what do you want?"

"I want to help you win your election, Dicky!"

"That's it?"

"No," Jim answered, "I also want to borrow your sweet little girlfriend."

Foster was stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. "You want to fuck Rachel? Are you serious?"

Jim looked deathly serious as he slid Foster's phone across the coffee table. "That's exactly what I want. And you're going to convince her to do it."

"Like fuck I am!" He stood up. "Why the fuck would I let you get anywhere near her?"

"Well, if you don't, I'll send that recording, and a few special photographs, to the media."

"Fuck you."

"Take the phone, Dicky. Get her back here."

"Even if I did, what makes you think she'll let you anywhere near her?"

"Dicky! That's why I have you. I'm sure you can convince her to save your career." Jim pointed again. "Dial the phone."

Foster was fighting the urge to fight, or run away. He was a smart guy who didn't often lose. But he dialed the phone. "Hey, Sweetie, can you come back to the apartment?"

There was a muffled voice on the other end of the line. "No, babe, everything is fine. I just want to run something past you. Ok, see you soon. Kiss." Foster hung up the phone and turned to Jim. "Now what?"

"We wait," Jim said. "What, did you want to cuddle?"

Foster managed a laugh. Under normal circumstances, the two men would seem to be evenly matched. Same build, almost the same height, both smart. But Jim had the advantage. Foster was screwed and he knew it.

"Is she the only one?"

"Only what?" Foster asked.

"Girlfriend. I'm sure you've had others over the years. Do you have more now?"

Foster shook his head. "Just Rachel." He sat silently for a moment. "Did that bitch put you up to this?"

"Who?"

"My fat skank of a wife. Is she behind this?"

Jim had no reason to feel attached to Susanna, yet he felt a stirring of sympathy for her. Probably wouldn't stop him from fucking her, but he really didn't like this asshole calling her names. "No, this is all me."

They both turned as the keys turned the lock in the door. Rachel walked in and set down her bag. "Richard, what couldn't wait?"

"Rachel, baby, I want you to meet..."

"Call me Mr. X." Jim extended a hand.

Rachel shook it politely. "It's a pleasure."

"Oh," Jim said, "The pleasure is all mine." He had a tough time controlling his grin. "Why don't you have a seat? Dicky has something to tell you."

She turned to Foster. "What is this? What do you want to tell me?"

Foster looked pale, almost green. "Have a seat, babe." He gave her a weak smile. "Please."

Rachel sat down, but didn't take her coat off. She looked shy, frightened. Jim set a small box in front of her. "Well Richard, why don't you explain?" he asked.

Foster let out a deep sigh. "Baby, this man knows about you. About us."

She shook her head. She'd always known that their relationship was a mistake, but she loved him. He needed her to support him, to do what his wife couldn't. "Can you just pay him?"

Foster gulped. "He doesn't want money." He leaned close. "He wants you."

"Wants me? What do you mean?"

"He wants to fuck you, sweetie."

Rachel let out a startled shout. "What the actual fuck, Richard? You can't be serious."

"I'm afraid it's true. We don't have much choice."

Rachel shook her head. "What if I say no? I don't want to fuck this guy."

"Please, baby," Foster pleaded. "I need you to do this for-"

Jim interrupted him. "I won't force you." He looked at her. "You need to do this for him. If you don't, I have recordings of the two of you. It will end his political career." He let it sink in.

"He's right, Sweetie. It will destroy us."

"Destroy you!" she exclaimed.

"I love you," Foster pleaded. "Please, for me."

The secretary stewed for a few minutes. She was furious. How did her hard-fought life lead to this? "Fine." She stood up. "How do we do this?"

Jim smiled. "First, you get undressed. I want to see what's worth throwing away your career."

Foster looked uncomfortable as his girlfriend shrugged off her coat and kicked off her heels. She took off her blouse, and her long dark brown hair cascaded over her bare shoulders.

She had magnificent breasts, firm and perky, with pencil eraser nipples that pointed straight out. Jim admired her. Richard, he thought, was a lucky man.

Foster wasn't feeling very lucky. He shifted in his seat. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom."

Jim cast him a stare. "You'll stay right there. We're just getting to the good part."

Rachel continued to strip. She deftly unbuttoned her shirt and let it drop to the floor. Her panties, a grey thong, came next. She slid them over her ass, down her creamy thighs. She stepped out of them and stood, in front of the couch, bare. She made no attempt to cover herself. "Let's just do this."

Jim looked her up and down, like a fine piece of meat. "We will," he said,"after you give Dicky his present." He pointed to the box on the table.

Rachel picked it up and opened it. She giggled a bit as she picked it up. It looked like a set of metal rings, welded together to create an inverted L. It had two locks holding it closed. She knew what it was.

"Dicky, take off your pants," Jim ordered.

Foster was too confused to argue. He pulled off his pants and tugged at his underwear.

"Go ahead," Jim laughed, "put it on him."

The meek secretary knelt in front of her rich and powerful boyfriend, and gave his penis a tug. "I'm sorry," she said quietly as she placed the cage around Richard's cock. The base went around Richard's scrotum, and she attached both locks. With it in place, Richard could handle all of his bodily functions, but getting hard would be fairly painful. "We can't have you getting all hard while you watch me fuck your little mistress, can we?"

"What the fuck?" Richard was incredulous.

"It's a cock cage, Richard," Jim explained. "I told you that I was going to help you get elected, and so I am. This should keep you from thinking with your little Richard."

"Is this necessary?"

Jim looked at him and answered softly but firmly. "Yes."

With nothing left to say, Jim took Rachel by the hand and guided her to the couch. He removed his pants and freed his cock, which was already hard.

Rachel looked down at him and his rock hard cock. She was determined to stay sexy, stay in character. She wasn't going to cry. Saffron didn't cry. "What do you want?"

"Suck it," Jim said. "I want your mouth."

Rachel knelt on the floor. She licked her lips, and took Jim's cock in her hand. It looked so petite wrapped around the big dick. Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue and licked the head.

"Suck it, bitch," Jim said angrily.

Rachel shook inside, but kept her fear in check. She was pissed-pissed at this guy for using her body, and pissed at Richard for giving her up so easily. She wrapped her lips around Jim's throbbing member and pulled him into her mouth.

Rachel's warm, wet mouth caused Jim to moan. As she worked his cock, he looked at Richard, who appeared deflated and beat. "OK man," he said, "this lady is a grade-A cocksucker."

Jim let her continue for a few minutes, and then pulled her to her feet. He stood up and pulled off his pants. "Rachel, sweetie, why don't you put your heels back on?"

Rachel wordlessly stepped into her heels. Just that act, putting on her 'fuck me' heels, gave her confidence. In that moment, Rachel became Saffron, and Saffron was walking sex. She thrust out her chest and exuded confidence. She wanted to be the center of attention. She might be getting fucked, but she was in charge. Jim walked her to the bedroom.

"Are you coming?" Jim said, pointing at Richard. "You don't want to miss this."

Richard stood and pulled up his pants. He was furious at his impotence, his inability to control the situation, his inability to stop this man from fucking his girlfriend.

Jim stepped behind Rachel and pushed her forward onto the bed. "On your knees," he said, and Rachel obeyed, shimmying onto the bed. She put her face down into the pillow and her ass in the air.

"Please grab a condom," Rachel said, more of a demand than request. "They're in the nightstand."

Jim laughed. "I don't think so. I want to feel your pussy, and I want to cum in you." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "And I think that you want it too, don't you?"

Rachel shivered, but didn't say anything. She just pressed her face into the pillow so Richard couldn't see. She was afraid that he would be able to tell that she was excited. Rachel was afraid-but Saffron loved the attention.