Civil Penalty Pt. 09

"Again, how?"

"Just work hard. You're super smart, Marguerite. It won't take you long to figure out how to get in my good books and stay there."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do that for me? I hurt you; I tried to ruin you."

I laughed and took a sip of my coffee before I answered, "It's not for you, it's for me. Part of me wants to destroy, humiliate, grind your face into the dirt, and keep it there. I want to see you humbled, ruined and wrecked beyond all recognition."

Gianna put her hand on my arm, and I settled and drew a breath, "But if I do that, how am I any different to you and people like you? Giving in to that violence would probably wound me deeper than anything you could have done. I did it to the previous CEO. So no, I'm going to treat you like a human being, and maybe, one day, we can put this behind us and move on with our lives."

She looked down and mumbled something.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

She looked up, "I said, "Thank you," she chuckled, "maybe they were right when they said, "Living well is the best revenge."

I snorted, "Perhaps, but I am yet to be convinced."

"Um, one thing."

"Yes?"

She actually blushed. I wished I had a camera because I doubted I'd ever see it again, "I, uh, like sex."

"Huh?"

The glare was back, "I said I like sex, damn you!"

"Wait, are you actually volunteering to be a sex slave?"

"Fuck no! But I don't want to live as a nun either, and can you please do something about these injections of "Hornyjuice"? I almost fucked a table leg while chained up outside waiting for this appointment."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Dammit, Marguerite Foucault, you are probably the evillest woman I've ever met, and yet I can't help but like you. In time, we will have a lot of fun tormenting each other. I'll get the shots stopped, and Gianna can see about arranging some, um... relief for you. Now," I held out my hand, "do we have a deal?"

She looked at my hand for a long time and then reached out.

***

On the first anniversary of my manumission, my Knight in shining armour took me back to the same restaurant where I had my first date as a free woman, dropped to one knee and proposed. The ring was gorgeous. It had an oval cut sapphire in the centre with one-carat diamonds on each side. It was so perfect I was speechless until a nearby diner coughed, and I realised Delano was still kneeling, waiting for an answer.

Of course, I said, Yes!

To my shock, the surrounding diners stood and clapped. I was bewildered until Delano introduced me to some of his closest friends whom he invited to witness and video our engagement.

***

POV: Elizabeth Ortiz, née Cartwright

Two years later, I knocked on the door of the penthouse suite and waited as I heard movement from within. Given this was where I kept Marguerite Foucault, I was perfectly entitled to wander right in. She was a slave, after all, belonging to my company, and I was the company's CEO, so the only rights she legitimately had were those I chose to give her.

Still, having personally sampled the oh-so-tender mercies of callous Masters during my brief sexual enslavement, I treated the woman with as much dignity as I would have wanted in her place. Plus, she was fiendishly good at her job and was making us a fortune, so it wasn't too hard to be magnanimous.

Mind you, she was a strange creature: extremely attractive in that alluring sexual way she had about her, thoroughly amoral and about as ruthless and devious as Machiavelli on steroids. She had almost ruined me and was the architect in the plan that had me enslaved and sexually abused for months, and still, I liked her. It was really infuriating.

The door opened, and a pretty blonde woman, who was definitely not Marguerite Foucault, peeked out. Given all she seemed to be wearing was a towel wrapped around her, it looked like she had just stepped from the shower.

Her eyes went wide as she saw me, and she stepped back, fumbling for the towel that the Great God Murphy had clearly seen fit to cause to become undone and slip from her at that exact moment, "Oh! Um, Mrs Ortiz, um... I..."

I chuckled at her antics as I searched my memory for her name, "It's alright, Pamela, relax. I'm here to see Marguerite. Is she here?"

"She's gone to the gym downstairs; she should return soon. She said I could use the shower. I-I'm not in trouble, am I? Oh, um, come... in."

The poor girl looked terrified, but I couldn't blame her. She was one of the newer acquisitions recently purchased by our Human Resources Department, and unexpectedly bumping into the company's CEO that owned you while wearing nothing but a towel would be disconcerting at best.

Walking in, I gave her a reassuring smile, "Not at all, Pam. Tell you what, why don't you finish your shower, and I'll make us some coffee. How do you take it?"

She stared at me, "Really?! I... I mean, thank you. Uh, black, please."

"Strong?"

"Oh hell, yes."

I grinned as I listened to her fumbling about in the bathroom, "Rough night?"

It was quiet for a moment, "She doesn't know what to say; she doesn't want me to think she's complaining."

"It's OK, it's just conversation, you won't get in trouble, I promise."

She blushed, "Um, well, the guys in sales brought in a contract yesterday, so they were... uh, celebrating."

My smile faded slightly, and I had memories of the sales team, "They treat you OK?" I asked as a distinct note of concern entered my voice.

She giggled, "Oh yes! They were super-nice, though my ass is still red as a cherry."

"What!?"

Her eyes went wide at my tone, "No! No, it was nothing bad. We played a game. I, uh, was in the middle and had a blindfold on, and they were like standing around me. I was blowing them, and I was meant to guess which one I was blowing, you know, um... from the uh, size of their dicks. But I was a bit tipsy, so I kept getting it wrong and got a spanking every time I made a mistake. It was pretty funny, really."

"They didn't hurt you?"

"No, well, my ass felt like it had been toasted by the end, but then they took turns putting cream on it, which was really nice. Except Tony! He put a dollop of ice cream on it, and I screamed like Hell. But he licked it off, and well..."

I sighed and held up my hand, "I get the idea. Were you left on your own to deal with the whole team?"

"Oh no, Marci was there. But I drank a lot more shots than her, so she got most of hers lot right. They said that 'cos she got more points than me I had to give her a prize. And that was a lot of fun."

I raised a brow, "You like Marci?"

She blushed, "Um, well, we're roommates and... you know."

I sighed, "I can imagine. But you let Gianna know if these guys take it too far, OK? You might be a slave, but you're still on the team, right?"

She looked down at her feet momentarily and seemed embarrassed, "Um, Mrs Ortiz?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Huh? For what?"

"Everything."

"I don't understand, Pamela. You're doing well here; you're not in trouble or anything; you don't have to thank me."

She sniffed, "No, I mean, I do. Before I came here, I had nothing, literally nothing. I was a sex slave sentenced to three years for... well, it doesn't matter, I did it. The last place wasn't good, you know. But here, I get a room instead of a cage; I get to eat real food and not slave kibble. I get to use the gym and everything! Nobody hits me or treats me badly and... and I even get an allowance and can buy and wear my own clothes... It's... incredible."

She had turned to look out the window, and I could see her trembling. Moving alongside, I stood with her, "You still have to have sex with pretty much everyone, and you did get a spanking, it seems."

"Oh, they were just playing. It didn't hurt, really. And I only have to have sex with a couple of guys a night usually, and I get weekends off. Gianna's even going to see about me getting back into school, she says."

I laughed, "She's good, but don't tell her I said that, or she'll ask for another pay rise. So, you're happy here?"

Turning back to me, she smiled, "Well, you know what they say. A happy whore is a..."

"You're not a whore. You're a 'non-voluntary morale officer'; don't let them tell you differently."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right."

I shook my head, "No, I mean it. It's been shown that the um, relief you and your colleagues provide has a marked and measurable effect on productivity, well-being and morale among our other employees. And the happier you are, the better you perform your duties, and of course, the better you perform your duties, the happier and more productive my staff are. So yes, you might be slaves, but you're still making a useful contribution, and as such, it should be both recognised and rewarded."

She looked at me, "You actually mean that, don't you?"

I smiled as I looked out the window, "You guys are a valuable investment, and you bring in a worthwhile return. Hell, if you didn't, the accountants would be pointing it out quickly enough, trust me."

I grinned, "Look, I'm working on something right now. It's a big contract, and if my team can bring it in, there's going to be the mother of all parties here, and you guys are going to be working your... um..."

She giggled, "Asses off?"

I smiled, "Well, yes. I bet you get banged six ways from Sunday, but tell you what. The guys in my team will be getting a significant bonus if the deal comes in and you're as much on the team as they are. I can't really pay you as such, but how about I get Gianna to arrange a weekend at a corporate retreat for you guys? Would you like that?

"Seriously?!"

"Yup, I'll get you an escort so nobody can take advantage or get all snooty with you, and you guys can have some fun. Now, here's a question for you, young lady: do you fancy skiing or the beach?"

Her squeal of joy didn't quite burst my eardrums, and I couldn't help but laugh at her happy little dance of delight.

"Did I miss something?"

I turned to find Marguerite Foucault standing behind me in the doorway. Her long dark hair was tousled, and she tilted her head to regard us curiously with her deep hazel-green eyes. Her gym wear consisted of a dark cropped top and tight leggings that showed the curves of her lean figure off to perfection, and the collar she wore only accentuated her long pre-Raphaelite neck. As always, that damnably enticing smile was half enigmatic and half alluring.

"No, Marguerite, Pamela here just helped me come up with a good idea, is all."

Her smile widened slightly, "Oh, I find Pamela to be very inspiring sometimes. She was worried about being found with me, even though I told her it was OK."

I grinned, "Well, I did say you could have her up here."

She tossed her gym bag on the couch and licked her lips with a lascivious chuckle, "Oh, I've had her all over the place, not just up here."

***

After the blushing and still giggling woman left, Marguerite turned to Elizabeth and shook her head with a sigh, "You sure it's a good idea letting them go to some corporate holiday camp? Won't they have to parade about naked and get fucked up by a shower of arrogant dipshits in suits?"

"Dipshits like us?"

"Well, like you? Maybe, I'm just chattel, remember?"

Beth grinned at the woman's wistful tone, "You're not, you know. Well, I mean, you're not 'just' chattel. That contract that the sales team celebrated last night brought in a lot of revenue, and much of that success was down to your development work, Marguerite. So, slave or no, I think that deserves a mention."

Marguerite snorted, "Yeah, I'll just add it to my stock options and end-of-year bonus, shall I?"

Elizabeth handed the woman a steaming cup of coffee and chuckled, "Actually, let's circle back to that in a minute. I've got news, and it relates to what we were talking about."

"News?"

"Yup, I convinced the SEC to modify the terms relating to ET and other slaves engaged in corporate work."

She frowned, "What kind of modification?"

"Well, basically, it means that as long as the enslaved person is engaged in actual work, the time constraints relating to mandatory nudity and sexual service do not apply. So, if a meeting overruns, you no longer have to strip off and fuck everyone in the room like a cheap hooker. I mean, it was just idiotic anyway, we're dealing in multi-million-dollar bids, and it's hardly a professional look. But," Elizabeth grinned mischievously, "there's another benefit I may have forgotten to mention when I pitched the idea."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, if some devious, manipulative and obviously completely unscrupulous executive were to schedule a weekend at a corporate retreat as a 'team-building exercise', for instance, it all counts officially as work."

Marguerite chuckled, "So they can enjoy their weekend in peace? Very cunning. I'll turn you to the dark side yet, Beth."

"Not if I turn you to the light first, Marguerite."

"Ha! Fat chance."

"Oh, you think so? Did you know I've already marked your kid's graduation on my calendar? Maybe you'd like to go and perhaps spend the night with them at your mum's?"

Marguerite swallowed, and her voice was light when she answered, but Beth could see how hard it was to keep her emotions in check, "That's kind of you, Beth, but I'm not Anakin Skywalker; it's just not who I am."

"We'll see."

"Oh yeah?" The dark-haired woman put down her coffee and gracefully rose before slinking towards the bathroom. The enticing swing of her hips was simply captivating, and the skintight fabric of her leggings highlighted every glorious curve of that absolutely stunning ass, and Beth couldn't help but stare as she stretched, running her fingers through her hair. Turning to look over her shoulder, the temptress smiled, and her voice was like honey, "I'm going for a shower. Wanna come?"

Beth flushed as she felt sudden heat and wetness between her thighs, "Oh, I... I shouldn't."

The woman's smile broadened, "That's true, but will you? You remember what happened last time..."

She disappeared, leaving the bathroom door open, and the sound of the running hot water could easily be heard. Moments later, her top and leggings sailed out the door to fall on the floor, and Beth shook her head as she stood and began to unzip her dress, "I swear, that woman is a fucking Devil."

***

Delano looked up at his wife as she knelt astride him on the bed. She was gloriously naked and riding him with her head thrown back and a look of utter joy and abandon on her face as she slid up and down on top of him, "Oh fuck, she's gorgeous."

He chuckled as he raised his hips to fully impale the woman, "God, I love it when you mess about with that Foucault woman. You always come home with that guilty look, willing to do anything to make it up to me.

She groaned in pleasure as he reached up to caress her breasts, playing with her erect nipples, "I-oh fuck! I'm always... oh! Yes! Right there! Oh shit!... Um, I'm always willing to do anything for you. Oh, fuuuck!!"

She bucked furiously as she came, and the combination of her wild gyrations and the muscles of her pussy milking his cock sent him careening right over the edge. With a primal groan, his body heaved, lifting the woman completely from the bed as he emptied himself deep inside her.

Afterwards, as she lay alongside him, nuzzling his member with her lips as he lovingly stroked her hair, she looked up into his eyes, "Are you sure you're OK with me being so weak?"

His chuckle turned into a sigh as her tongue played with the tip of his manhood, and he felt himself growing hard again, "You're not weak, Beth; you just enjoy sex. And I have to admit, there's definitely something predatory about that woman. I would feel very differently if you messed about with another guy, but I find the thought of you with another woman pretty damn hot, to be honest," he chuckled again, "I hope that doesn't make me a hypocrite."

"So, you're not mad?"

She slipped her lips over the end of his cock and began to suck, and he groaned, "Fuuck, Beth! How can I be mad at you when you... you're doing, hell, you're good at that. When you're doing that? Mind you, I think I definitely need to punish you."

"Mmmph?"

"Oh yes. Tomorrow morning, before you go to work, I'm going to bend you over the dining table and spank your cute little derrière until it glows."

She pulled her lips off him with a wet sound, "What?"

He grinned, "Oh yea, and then, when you get to work, I want you to show your pretty red butt to Ms Foucault, and you tell her that the next time I find out you two have been messing about, I'm going to buy a cane and put six beautiful sizzling stripes on that gorgeous posterior of yours."

Beth giggled, "But Delano, you know what she's like. If I tell her that, she won't fucking rest until my ass is literally on fire!"

His laugh was entirely wicked, "Yup. If you pick the tune, you must pay the piper, my love; nobody says you have to mess about with her."

"Oh, you're so mean. I'm going to make you pay for that."

He groaned as she slid her warm lips back over his member and began to fellate him, "Well, I guess I deserve it, ohh fuck, that's nice. So that's only fair, Beth...," he groaned again as she teased him mercilessly ... Beth smirked as she silently asked, which one of them was really the weak one?

The End.