Emancipation

The clasps on the briefcase closed with a sharp snap that left no doubt that the meeting was over.

Janice was small, and blonde, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that spoke of production and focus. The look in her eyes was one of authority and control. She wasn't mannish in the least, neither was she frilly. She was cold, calculating and businesslike. She lifted her briefcase and shook hands with the men and women in the boardroom. Her high heels clicked their way out of the offices and into the elevator. She sighed deeply as the muzak droned and the numbered lights descended. She had been working on this deal for a long time. Today had been the day, the papers were signed, notarized, and the agreements were in place. She had done her part and now it was up to the others to make everything work. Hers was a job that juggled money in the seven and eight figure range, not small potatoes in anyone's book.

Jan ran her team of executives with an iron hand and they gave her the allegiance she deserved. She brooked no argument or disloyalty. She never had to tell anyone that she was in charge; no one ever doubted it for a second. She was the "Ice Princess" of Toronto's financial district. She was business... all business.

Karl was sitting on the concrete floor of the garage wrestling with the last of the bolts holding the engine into the frame of the old Harley. Pieces were spread out on the floor and bench. He had to do some serious top end work this week, the heads and barrels needed to come off. While he had it apart he may as well just rebuild the whole goddamned thing. He looked up as tires crunched in the gravel driveway. He saw Janice's red Corvette convertible roll in and park.

The miles on the freeway had done their magic for her. The late spring sunshine had been bright and clear. Traffic had been light as it was still early afternoon. She had put the top down and pointed the nose South. Jan had time off now after the deal had been signed. Whenever a deal like this went down she took a couple of weeks off. She could afford it, and her position had a certain amount of perks. Demand of her services was one, and the ability to make her own rules was another. She didn't have to worry about money, and her firm would give her the time off because no one could do the job like she could. They were lucky to have her and they knew it. She had just worked for months in high pressure; she had controlled and guided her people through a thousand pitfalls never once losing sight of the goal. She had navigated the ship to its port and now the money would flow. The stress had been enormous, now it was time for a vacation.

Karl leaned on the doorway of his workshop, actually a garage attached to his lakeside farmhouse. He watched Janice walk up the drive from where her 'vette was parked. He admired her lithe form, the compact, tight little body that ran that powerhouse. She walked up the drive, her business suit in stark contrast with the surroundings; the fruit trees, fences and pasture, the cluttered shop with three bikes inside, and the big greasy-handed man that she approached.

Jan tried not to run to him. Her heart had beaten faster the closer she approached. When she pulled off the highway and wound her way down the lakeshore onto smaller and smaller roads she had to exercise every ounce of control not to floor the accelerator. She could feel the tension, the iron will, and the control shedding off of her like old leaves blowing in the wind. She needed that place and she needed Karl. God how she needed Karl.

Karl was the only man she knew that neither feared nor revered her. Karl was her man, and she was his woman. No one in Toronto knew about Karl, not because she was ashamed, nor because she hid him. He was none of their business. Karl was her refuge and her anchor. No one would understand just how she drew strength from their relationship, and no one needed to. She wasn't sure she understood it herself, but it recharged her and made her whole, so she didn't think she needed to understand anything more about it.

She walked up to him where he leaned on the doorway. He looked her up and down with a frank and admiring gaze. His smile was warm, but his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. The effect made her shiver a bit. She loved Karl and he loved her, but sometimes he looked... she didn't know... she wasn't scared of him, she trusted him with her very soul... but he was scary in a strange way that never failed to excite her.

She stood there in front of him, suddenly nervous and unsure of herself. He wiped his hands slowly on the rag that always hung from his pocket while he worked. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him, but she was hesitant. He stood leaning there, staring at her until his hand reached out, took her chin in his fingers and tilted her head up. He kissed her then, not the hungry kiss one might expect of a man his size and background, but the lightest brush of his lips on hers. She tried to press her lips to him but he held her chin where it was and whispered "Ooooooh no darlin, plenty of time for that." She whimpered in frustration, but knew she was no longer in command and control, she knew she was no longer the "boss". Her erect, aching nipples and the warmth that spread through her abdomen told her that she CERTAINLY was no longer the "Ice Princess".

Karl gently took her hand and led her into the shop, pressed the button that lowered the big garage door and continued into the kitchen. She looked around the old farmhouse while Karl stripped off his t-shirt and washed up in the bathroom. She could feel the warmth of the wood embrace her; the smells, the little things that made it his domain. She looked out the dining room window onto the lake. She felt his arms wrap themselves around her then, and heard his voice growling in her ear. "So girl, the deal is over and you came out to get away?"

That growl never failed to weaken her, a cross between a whisper and a snarl. Coupled with his lips on her earlobe while he said the words caused her breathing to quicken while she ground herself against him. Karl felt her press back, and knew just what Janice needed right then. There would be time aplenty for tenderness and loving caresses, but right now Jan needed more than anything to shed that city, that firm, deals, money, politics and power. She needed to shed the costume she stitched for herself and lived in.

"Take off this jacket," Karl whispered to her as his lips ran down her neck. She turned to kiss him but he drew away. "Not yet," he said, " I told you what to start with." Her hands shook as they reached up and peeled off her jacket. She gasped a little as his lips ran down the other side of her neck and she felt his teeth rake gently along. The warm wetness of his tongue slipping along her skin made her moan unconsciously. It had been so long... too long since she had felt that, felt his whiskers and smelled his scent. Her hands reached back behind her, needing to feel his hardness, wanting to know what awaited her. She knew that she wouldn't be allowed to, not yet, but wanted him to know that she ached for him right this second.

When her hands slid along the denim of his jeans her wrists were seized in his big hands, his voice took on a harder edge as he hissed in her ear. "What is this girl? You deciding it's time for a little more?" She whimpered when she felt her wrists pinned in those hands. His fingers wrapped easily around them and held them as if they were set in concrete. Karl squeezed them just hard enough that she knew it would hurt if he added another ounce... It was enough to send that thrill of fear and abandon through her, the liberation of helplessness. She writhed, trying to twist free, moaning in frustration.

Karl held her wrists in one of his hands. "You're forgetting who decides what happens here," he whispered to her again, deceptively calmly. "Who gives the orders?" he asked then, giving her wrists a bit of a squeeze. Janice's only answer was a little yelp; she shook her head, her blonde hair covering her face, breath now gasping. "I said...." Karl growled a bit louder, and ran his hand down the curve of her backside, her skirt stretched tightly across it now "Who gives the fucking orders?....,bitch." Jan moaned loudly as his hand skated across the fabric, she pressed herself to him, her mouth opening in a gasp as her sensitive buttocks were touched and explored at will. Janice gave a little scream as Karl's hand stopped its wandering and left her. She tried to move around to get a little more, just another little touch but all she heard was Karl's laugh.

Then she felt it; her eyes were closed tightly as all of the sensations washed over her. Her hands pinioned, Karl's voice echoing inside her head, his free hand ran over her backside at will. The zipper of her skirt moved down as Karl slid it teasingly slowly down. Her breath had been gasping for a long time; she had no idea how long she had been leaning against him now, only able to do as he allowed, only able to get what he gave. She wanted so much more, she could feel the months of self-control and focus slipping away. She sensed her shell cracking, felt the ache in herself, and the need for this man to pierce her, take ownership of her, use her at his whim.

"Please" she whispered then, as the zipper of her skirt reached the bottom, and the material slid from her hips into a bundle on the hardwood floor. She had known what would happen when she showed up; she had no illusions about who she was when the door closed here. All she had been wearing under her skirt was a pair of stockings. She was unfettered and unencumbered by anything else. She wanted to be open and ready for him in any way he chose.

"Who gives the orders, I asked? " Karl growled at her again, slipping his hand over her bare backside, sliding it lower. His fingertips dancing everywhere caused her to moan loudly as his fingers traced every curve toward the backs of her thighs.

"Please Karl" she whimpered, gasping.

"Who gives the orders...little bitch?" he snarled as his hand forced Janice to spread her thighs. She stood there, hands behind her, legs spread, while Karl's hand slipped up the back of that creamy skin.

"Karllllll..." she wailed.

"Answer me!" he ordered.

"You do," she moaned.

"Good girl," he mocked, but rewarded her with his finger slipping deliciously slowly along her wet pussy lips.

"GAWD!" she gasped, shuddering, her knees almost collapsing.

Karl knew she couldn't stand up much longer. Taking her to the kitchen table, he turned her around and let her hips touch it; she sat back a bit on the smooth wood. He looked down at her, into those eyes that had been cold and dispassionate just hours earlier, there in that boardroom. They were now wide and doe-like; pools of desire, shameless abandon and utter wanting. He took her hair in his left hand and brought her to his lips then, demandingly, roughly and pressed himself to her. Her lips parted immediately, pressing hungrily to his, her tongue immediately snaking to his and chasing it there, tasting him, caressing him there. Her moans increased as his hands tore open her blouse, the buttons showering around the room. She wore no bra, her tiny little breasts needed none, her aching nipples stiff with abject desire. He slipped his fingers over them, lightly, teasingly, she almost screamed wanting him to touch them harder, to press and stroke them.

"Please Karl", she whispered, leaning back on the tabletop, her thighs spread, resting on her elbows. "Please", she whispered, "I can't stand any more." Her hands reached shakily for the button fly of his jeans, her eyes on his, looking for permission.

His hands closed on her wrists again, a cruel smile played on his lips. "Who do you belong to?" he said, looking into those eyes.

"You." she gasped without hesitation, feeling her slickness on her thighs, feeling the consuming need in every cell, feeling the ache deep inside her that she knew only he could soothe. "God Karl, I belong to you, I'm yours in any way you want me... but please, please take me, please...take your little bitch, Karl."

He laughed a bit, smiled, knowing she was his again, knowing that the "ice princess" was banished again for a while. He allowed her hands to tear open the buttons. Once he was freed he took her without hesitation, her cries were loud as he entered her, the last shreds of self-control gone she moaned and thrashed with each thrust. Her nails dug into him and she convulsed uncontrollably. The waves of her orgasm rippled through her as Karl's fingers explored her while he probed deep inside her. Her back arched, almost throwing them both off their feet.

Karl was always amazed at her intensity, and it never failed to bring on his own release, feeling her muscles wrapped around him. Hearing her moans and cries under him as he gave her every inch of himself was too much even for his control. What had started as a hint in him blossomed suddenly inside him. He felt the surge of his seed accompanying the ecstasy that flowed to every nerve ending. He buried himself suddenly and violently to his fullest inside Jan. He grasped her hips and drew her to him, convulsing and shuddering, he gave her his gift.

Later, as darkness filled the living room of the farmhouse, Karl and Janice lounged on the couch. She lay with her head on his lap as he fed her tidbits from a bowl of fruit; some cheese and white wine completed their meal.

She snuggled tight against him, feeling his hand moving over her belly and breast. They talked quietly, bringing each other up to date, chatting and laughing into the night. As her eyes slipped closed she knew that once again she had come home to her master. She had been shown again that being owned by this man wasn't a weakness; she had all the strength she needed inside her. Being possessed by him was the comfort that she needed, it was her safety. She was the ice princess in some other life, but here, in these walls, she belonged to him.

(c) Chainsaw Larry, 2003