tagNovels and NovellasIf She was Honest

If She was Honest


I walked into my office, my morning latte in hand, half consumed from the walk from the café. My assistant had arrived earlier, preparing me for the day. Jayashree had three Manila folders in the middle of my desk, placed where I couldn't miss them. I put down my drink and removed my overcoat, hanging the leather covering on the old wooden rack in the corner.

"Good morning, Sir," my lovely, exotic aide meekly said as I passed her naked bottom. She was leaning on the antique oak desk, on her forearms. The hem of her skirt was over her hips. She was without panties: Something I had demanded and something she lovingly accepted. I walked to my closet, causing her to squirm with anticipation.

"Did my Princess enjoy her evening?" I asked. I had my back to her, but I knew her hips were grinding against an unseen hand. I noticed the way she was leaning gave me a perfect view of her dark brown labia. I smiled knowing that I could touch them, kiss them, and caress them whenever I wanted. I saw she had on the gift I gave to her for becoming my Princess: An amethyst clit ring. She absolutely adored it.

"Yes, Your Princess did," she breathlessly whispered. I smiled; from both anticipating the action to come and that, she had appreciated her night. I grabbed her favorite, a beige flogger with five tails made softened leather. I closed the door, making a loud sound doing so.

"I'm glad you did, Princess." I moved to her ass, the color of caramel, and tenderly caressed it with my left hand. "You make me happy," I said. I raised the flogger before she could thank me. The sound of rushing air came too quickly for her to react before leather smacked her bottom.

She didn't move, didn't make a sound. Her body tensed some, but that was expected. I raised the toy again and held it high.

"Princess appreciates Sir knows how to treat her," she said before I hit her bottom for a second time, on the opposite cheek from the initial hit. She wiggled her ass slightly, but caught it quickly, before I could admonish her for not staying still.

"Thank you, Sir," she whispered. Three, four more blows from my whip caused her to state similar words. Two more on each cheek and the morning's flogging ended.

"Can Princess cover herself?" Jayashree asked. She knew I wanted to caress her ass more, loving so, but she had permission to ask.

"No, My Princess," I sternly answered. I closed the closet and turned to her. I could only shake my head at what a lucky man I truly was, for finding such a willing and loving submissive, open to most of what I liked, what I found sexual and sensual. I placed my hand above her skin and felt heat rise. I left no scarring marks, but redness had begun to show.

She moaned when I touched her left cheek. She didn't look back, just held her head down while I stroked her lovely, hot skin, admiring my work. She fell further onto the desk, collapsing from the pleasure the pain offers to her. I shook my head and smiled, moved to my chair to begin the workday.

I took a sip of my latte, turned on my laptop, and looked at my pet. She was smiling broadly, her dark brown eyes closed. She looked content, like a sleeping kitten. I hated, always didn't like, waking her from her pleasure-educed naps, but I had an agency to run, and she was my most important contributor to its running.

I stood, leaned forward, and carefully moved her hair from her forehead. I gently kissed her. "Time to get back to work," I whispered.

Her eyes fluttered like butterfly wings. Jayashree smiled when her eyes met mine. "I'm sorry, Sir, I must have dozed off." She slinked up off the desktop and stretched. She pushed down the hem of her skirt and smoothed it with both hands. She glanced at the clock and noticed that the other employees would be coming soon.

"If there's nothing you need of Your Princess," she said, more of a question than statement. I shook my head and opened a folder. She quietly left the office, closing the door, notifying me that she was ready to return to being my executive administrative assistant.

The folders were paperwork that needed my signature. Being a private investigator isn't as glamorous as novels, television, and movies portray. Most times, it is long hours of sitting in a car, waiting for a brief moment so you can snap pictures, or digging through garbage, or spending hours in front of a computer researching. This was one of those times. With that work done, I clicked on the word processor icon and found where I left off on a case report: Another not-so-dazzling part of my world.

"Remy," Jayashree said as she opened the office door and knocked. "There's someone here to see you." She slowly closed the door behind her. "He doesn't have an appointment, but you're schedule is clear for the day." She smiled mischievously.

"Did he tell you what he wants?" I reached into my top drawer and pulled out a steno pad and pen. I was anticipating that we were going to have a new client.

"He believes his wife is cheating on him."

"What's your impression of him?" She has a good gift of reading people's emotions, can tell instantly if they're anger or sorrow is true. It's greatly helped me in the past and will do so in the future.

She nodded. "He honestly is hurt."

"Okay, send him in."

She turned and opened the door. "You can come in, Mr. Allerton. He'll see you."

In walked a beaten man, emotionally beaten down. He was gaunt and pale. His shoulders drooped. There was no spring to his step. I shook his hand, introduced myself and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. Jayashree stepped out of the office for a moment.

"Thank you for meeting with me," he began. My assistant returned with a bottle of water and a small tumbler. She offered them to Allerton, but he shook his head. She placed them on my desk, just in case he changed his mind.

"What can I do for you?" I grabbed a chair and slid it in front of him.

For the next three hours, Kurt Allerton explained his feelings and suspicions about his wife, Sylvia. Though they've never failed to be passionate over their nine years of marriage, it's only been over the last year that she's been acting questionably. He told us that it started when she spent a week in Buffalo, at her job's home office.

Normally when they were apart, they would spend an hour or two on the phone, talking about their day. However, when she arrived in her hotel, she called but talked for only 15 minutes, begging off to go to bed. Allerton thought nothing of it, since him, too, had traveled by air and felt tired once he arrived.

The next day, her call was late. She sounded as if she had been drinking. He told us that he could hear others in her room, but when he questioned Sylvia, she answered it was the television. This happened again the next day, and the day after.

At this point, Mr. Allerton said this was when he thought she was having an affair. The voices he heard through the phone, though not male, were hushed. I asked if he confronted his wife when she arrived home. He answered that he did, but she yelled and told him that he was out of his mind.

Allerton asserted that this was just the beginning of her strange behavior. She would insist on going out after work twice weekly, to spend time with the girls. He informed us that she never wanted to this, that there were no "girls" before the trip.

I asked for more occasions of odd or changed behavior. He gave me several, including one last week when she rushed out of the house after receiving a phone call at midnight, without giving any reason or explanation when she returned three hours later.

"Sure sounds like she's cheating," Jayashree said. She was behind my desk, on my laptop, busily typing her notes of me: I can't read her writing well. Without looking up, she asked, "What are the plans for us?"

I thought for a moment, remembered we've done this kind of investigation before, and answered, "I'll follow her, get her routine down, and then maybe have one or two of the associates watch her at night."

"Sounds like the plan," she added, her fingers still working. She stopped for a moment and looked at me. She must have noticed the time when she asked, "Who's the lunch date today?"

"I'm meeting Elise at home," I answered with an evil grin.

"Lucky girl," Jayashree wistfully added.

I met Elise in college; I was a sophomore, she was a freshman. There wasn't an immediate attraction, well, at least on her side. She told me, within five minutes of meeting me outside our Principals of Accounting class that I was "an arrogant, selfish, stuck-up dick." It wasn't two weeks later when she was confessing to me naked in my apartment's living room, in the submissive position her wanting me to be her Dominant. We've been together ever since.

During the courses of investigations, I find that being with Elise helps, clears my mind of all outside influences. I can't explain the reasons for it; all I know is that it works. Jayashree and the others in the office know this and never question me over it. Jayashree has, at times, done the same thing, spent time with a naked Elise when she's suffered from blocks, whether in the course of investigations or with life in general.

I made a call from my car while in the parking garage, instructing her I would be picking up lunch from the deli on my way home and how I expected her to be once I arrived.

"Good afternoon, Sir," Elise said in welcome at the door. As instructed, she was naked. She stood five feet, four inches. On that frame were large breasts, D-cups, courtesy of genetics and two children. She's spent the last several years doing yoga and running 5K events. She had curves, something she was proud of, something I loved. In addition, her eyes were dark and sensual, the first thing people see when first meeting her.

I handed her the deli bags. "Get them on plates," I commanded. She lowered her head and walked to the dining room. She anticipated what I wanted: A plate and bottle of diet Dr. Pepper were on the table, a plate and bottle of iced tea where on the floor next to my chair.

"You can sit with me," I informed her as I put my jacket on a hook.

"Thank you, Sir."

"We've just been hired to gather information on a cheating wife," I said entering the dining room. Elise had stepped out and to the linen closet to get a towel.

"When's the last time you've had one of those cases?" she called out.

"Seriously, I can't remember." I grabbed the bag of chips she had placed on the table and opened it. I poured some onto my plate.

"I can't either," she added on her return. She put the towel on her chair and sat. She looked to me for permission before sitting. I nodded.

"Roasted turkey with lettuce, tomato, little mayo, and no cheese," I whispered as she began to unwrap her meal. "And no pickle," I quickly added as Elise looked in her bag. She smiled when she found the chocolate chip cookie, a reward for her being her.

"What are the particulars?" she asked before taking an initial bite of lunch.

"I think there are so many options available for you to use," Elise said, making her way to the kitchen. We finished lunch, and she was cleaning up. I smiled as I watched her naked ass wiggle away from me.

"I could have Jayashree and Christine do some initial research," I called to her.

"That's nothing new," she cajoled. She returned and looked at me with her dark, round eyes. I had something nasty to say, but I forgot once I looked into them. "You could call a meeting and assign other operatives to tail this woman." She returned with a wet dishcloth to wipe the table.

I watched as her breasts jiggled with the movement. "You're such a pig," she mumbled. Elise finished and shook her head. "But you're my pig," she added. She turned and walked away from me.

"Sir," Elise said on her return from the kitchen. She dropped to her knees and bowed her head. "What does Sir have in store for His most precious of submissives," she stated.

"What indeed?" Since I was the boss, I could have taken the rest of the day and played with Precious. I loved playing with her, having her serve me. Precious had very little limits, but they were hard ones. No blood, no gun or knife play, no scat were her hard limits. She had others, but those were I never crossed or brought up.

"Precious, please retrieve your favorite anal plug, the bottle of lube, and your choice of paddle. I haven't paid your ass much attention lately. It must feel neglected."

She looked up and didn't smile. "Yes Sir, it has." She stood quickly, backed out of the dining room, and walked quickly to the den. I heard her open the closet. I took this time to walk to the stairs and to the bedroom.

"Sir," I heard her begin. "May Precious bring a paddle and a flogger?"

I smiled, knowing what she wanted me to do. "Yes Precious. Sir will use both on your large ass this afternoon." I heard her giggle and exit the room.

I entered the bedroom, Precious close behind. She gently placed the lubricant on the nightstand. One the bed, she put a black leather flogger, its five tails made of hard leather. Precious placed an ordinary wooden paddle, one we received for our twentieth wedding anniversary from her best friend, next to it. Finally, she placed a stainless steel anal plug in the middle. She climbed onto the bed, faced away from me on all fours, and awaited further instruction.

"Use your Precious as you wish." She wasn't tense. She was relaxed, almost giddy with the anticipation.

I didn't say a word, just removed my shoes and shirt, leaving them on the floor. I gently tapped then rubbed her bottom. I reached for the flogger but left it on the bed. I grabbed the bottle, poured some lubricant into my hand, and walked to Precious.

"This might be cold," I joked. I ran my hand over her hole twice up, once down, before pushing having my index finger enter. I heard her moan softly. She pushed against my hand. I slipped a second finger in, moving them around. I retracted, causing her to whimper. I used some remaining lube on the toy's head, polishing the metal object, making it slippery.

I didn't warn Precious. Slowly, steadily, I put plug inside of her. Her anus stretched to accept it. She relaxed her body, her sphincter especially. It slipped inside. She inhaled deeply. If this happened 30 years I might have panicked, thought she was hurt. I know now better, Precious enjoyed the feeling.

I removed my t-shirt and cleaned off my hand with it before taking the flogger in my hand. I loved this instrument. It has given us many hours of pleasure. It has given her multiple orgasms. The handle was eight inches in length. Made of maple and wrapped with tightly drawn leather thongs, it had been a gift to me by Precious for our tenth wedding anniversary. She had it specially made by a leather smith who specialized in fetish objects.

The five tails were made of buckskin, dyed black. They were ten inches in length, each one hard, but not hard enough to cut through skin. I flicked my wrist, the fingers cutting the air. Precious squirmed as the leather cracked the sound barrier.

My first touch of her ass was soft, running the tails down her ass. The second was similar, this time on her opposite check. She wiggled as if she was tickled. I raised the flogger high. It came crashing down, hard. Precious moaned softly when leather hit flesh. I quickly raised it again, repeated the action on the other cheek with a similar reaction.

"Does Precious love the feel?" I asked.

She nodded silently. I noticed that she was grabbing the comforter, digging her hands deep within the fabric. I smiled evilly as I raised the toy up. I came down harder on her ass. She jumped slightly, not enough to illicit my ire.

I continued flogging Precious, counting out 10 hits per cheek. She did not cry out, she did not complain. She wrapped her hands into the quilt and enjoyed. "That's 20 total," I said.

"Thank you, Sir," she breathlessly said. She collapsed on to the bed, exhausted from pleasure. I let her catch her breath before taking the paddle to her round bottom.

I took the paddle in my hand. It was the shape and size of those used in table tennis, but with a difference. While the sport's face is made of wood and covered in either rubber or a sandpaper-like material, this was made of rubber; its cover was black leather. I smiled as I took a few swings, to get the feel of it. Precious brought it out when she had something to confess.

"What is on your mind?" I asked. I hit her right cheek with a forehand.

"Nothing bad," she answered. She pushed herself up better on her hands and knees. She readied herself for more.

"I asked this, only because you brought the paddle." I used a backhand on her left cheek. I heard it hit flesh: It must have stung. Precious made no sign that the paddle caused her any more pain than she could tolerate.

"I did something yesterday," she softly said. She pushed her ass towards me, expecting another smack. I hit her with a sharp thrust. She moaned.

"What did you do, Precious?" I hit her opposite cheek with the same force. She moaned, again.

She hesitated for a moment, an action that caused me to slap her again. "Sir, I met with Kathy yesterday." She anticipated a stronger hit.

Kathy was Katherine Braun, her sister-in-law. For years, I've heard Precious complain about the woman, how prudish she was, and how she would never understand our lifestyle. I also heard how her brother mistreated the older woman, how she would be better off leaving him.

I hit her hard. "What did you two discuss?"

Her answer came sudden, her words spoken quickly. "Sir, I told her that she needs to lighten up about our lifestyle." I stopped mid swing and thought for a moment.

"How did she respond?" I stepped forward and removed her anal toy. She groaned disappointedly.

"She needs to talk to you, Sir." The sound of the paddle hitting her fleshly bottom echoed off the bedroom walls. She exhaled quickly.

"Why?" I smacked her ass as I questioned.

"She wants to apologize to you, Sir."

"Why does she want to do that?" I quickly hit each cheek.

"She lied to you when she called our lifestyle disgusting." I spread her legs wide. I hit her wet pussy suddenly. She squealed slightly as she inhaled.

"Does she not find it so terrible now?" I hit her cunt again. Her hips gyrated for a moment, before she realized she could not bring herself to orgasm. I had not given her permission.

"No, no Sir. She wants to join us. She's leaving my brother." I smacked her ass hard with the paddle. I wanted to know more, but I needed tending. I would remember where we left off.

I was hard. My cock wanted out of my pants. I tossed the paddle onto the floor. I grabbed Precious' hair and pulled her to my crotch. "Remove my cock," I commanded.

"Yes Sir," she demurred. With her hands, she undid my buckle. Precious unbutton the pants followed by unzipping. She pulled down the pants. I stepped out of them when they hit the floor. Precious pulled my boxer briefs down quickly, my hard on popping out. She pushed them down, and I stepped out of them.

"Does Sir want his Precious to suck him?" She looked up at me with her deep, dark, sexy eyes. I shook my head.

"Get on your back and spread for Sir." She didn't look disappointed. She moved to the center of the bed and put her head on the pillows. She spread her legs and held them wide with her hands.

"I am ready for you, Sir." I saw a smile come to her face. I joined her on the bed and crawled between her legs. I found her pussy, found it wet and ready. I stopped for a moment and looked at her.

"Precious you may cum." I returned to licking her pussy, sucking on her lips. She put her hands on my head, wrapped her fingers in my hair. I forced my tongue deeper inside. She met my action by forcing her hips forward. She rubbed her clit against my face.

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