Master Pays a Visit

Elise ran her fingers through her hair. "Look, Mike," she said, skewering the unhappy young man sitting in front of her with her glare, "this is your screw-up, and now you have to fix it. I need to rely on you when you say you'll get something done, now more than ever. So find me sets to rent for Turandot or plan on making them yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." Mike swiped his hand over his disheveled face, and Elise couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. He looked as tired as she felt, and they'd all been working long hours since their production manager had quit with no warning last week. Growing a small opera company into a regional powerhouse wasn't easy to accomplish on a shoestring budget, especially when her staff deserted her.

As he stood to go, she said, "We're all under a lot of pressure here. We'll get through it."

He nodded, the lines across his forehead easing a little. "I'll find something, don't worry." His mouth twisted in a grimace. "It's not like that little weasel at Texas Opera can reserve every Turandot set in the country."

Elise took a moment after he left to massage her pounding temples, then she pulled up her to-do list and ticked off "Turandot sets?" before she moved down to the next item. She groaned when she read, "Call Leighton re: Lisbeth Collins contract." After months of careful negotiation, she had finally managed to pin down one of the fastest-rising soprano stars of the year for next season's production of Tosca, and now her conductor was refusing to work with her.

"I swear, if I find out that he fucked another singer onto the no-hire list..." she muttered to herself, letting her eyes shut for a moment before calling out the open office door to her secretary, "Hayley, get Archie on the phone for me."

"Oh, okay, but..." Hayley's head hovered into view around the edge of the doorway, "Sam just called. He's on hold. Should I tell him you're busy?"

Elise blew out her breath and felt her cheeks flush slightly. "No. That's the first good news I've had all day. Go ahead and put him through."

"Sure thing, boss!" Hayley swung back toward her desk, pushing the office door closed behind her.

Elise breathed deeply and stared at the phone, waiting for the call light to blink red. Her husband Sam was a lawyer in a small practice, which meant his schedule was sometimes flexible. If he wanted to talk to her about anything, he'd call her mobile number. There was only one reason he'd ever call her at work.

Her heart was pounding when she picked up the phone. She said nothing.

Sam's deep voice growled over the line, "Cancel your one o'clock. I'll be there in twenty minutes." There was a click as he disconnected.

Elise set the handset down gently into its cradle with an exterior calm that didn't match the tremors of excitement she felt in her belly. She waited a full minute, took two deep breaths, then stood. As she walked to the door, she felt like her head was floating, but her voice was firm and even when she said, "Hayley? Call Mrs. Latimer and reschedule our meeting for tomorrow."

Hayley looked taken aback. "Oh, but...what should I tell her?"

Elise raised an eyebrow. "That I have a conflict."

"Um, okay." She picked up the phone and started punching in numbers

Elise stood over her as Hayley made the call to the board president, her mind racing. It was just the three of them in the office today, Nick was off sick and Allison was three towns over doing that outreach program. By the time Hayley was done on the phone, a plan had formed in her mind.

"I want you to head over to Le Cornichon and pick up my usual," she said, brushing a nonexistent speck of dust off her sleeve.

"At this time of day, it'll probably take me 45 minutes to get to the restaurant. It's all the way across town." Hayley said, dismayed.

"That's fine," Elise said. "Get yourself something too. Lunch is on me."

Hayley visibly brightened. "Hey, thanks!"

She could see Mike out of the corner of her eye, sitting at his desk and trying not to look glum. "Actually," Elise said, as if the idea was just dawning on her, "take Mike with you too. You guys deserve a break. Go ahead and eat there, and bring me back a to-go container."

Mike was already out of his chair and pulling his jacket on. "I'll drive." He grinned at Elise. "Best boss ever. And don't worry, I got a bunch of calls out. I think I might have a line on the Zefferelli sets that the Met built in '92."

"Good work, Mike." She smiled in approval.

Hayley paused on her way out the door. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

Elise waved her hand. "No, I've got too much to do here. I'll see you later."

Finally, the office was empty. Elise looked at her watch. Only five minutes to go. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto her face, dried it off with a paper towel. Her cheeks were still hot, and when she looked in the mirror she could see the flush creeping down her throat too. The silver pendant at the base of her throat gleamed; she touched it with one manicured fingertip.

A stylized infinity symbol, tiny and delicate. Instead of a clasp, though, the chain was joined by a larger link, one that couldn't come undone without breaking it. Elise took the link between her fingers and carefully adjusted the chain so that it lay at the back of her neck, beneath her hair. You would have to know what you were looking for to see what it really was.

Because it wasn't just a necklace. It was a collar. The one she had asked Sam to put on her.

A tiny shiver of anticipation thrilled through her as she made her way back to her office to prepare for her master's touch.

Elise drew the blinds in her office and closed the door before she unbuttoned her crisp white blouse and shrugged out of it. Her hands shook slightly as she folded the blouse and set it on the edge of her desk.

She checked her watch again. Shit! Only a minute to go. She undressed hurriedly and laid the rest of her clothes in a neat pile. She grimaced as she unbuckled her watch and set it on top of the pile. Not as neat she would like, but it would have to do.

She gasped as she heard the outer door to the office open. So soon! Breathlessly, she dropped to her knees and sat back on her heels, her palms spread on her thighs and her head down.

"Elise?" Sam's voice called softly from outside her office.

"I'm here, master," she said, loud enough for him to hear. That was their signal: if she called him master, that meant they were alone.

The cool air from the AC vent whispered across her bare skin as she heard the soft whoosh of her office door opening, the tiny click as it shut, and the metallic scrape of the deadbolt falling into place. A shiver ran down her spine at the deliberate tread of Sam's feet across the thick carpet, until he stood in front of her, his shoes just within her field of vision.

She sat still, her breath becoming more and more ragged, as he stepped out of his loafers and slipped off his socks. She took the shoes and tucked each sock carefully into them, setting them aside next to the pile of her own clothes. She kept her eyes down, didn't speak, but she could feel the heat radiating from him. The growing warmth in her belly signaled her arousal.

She licked her lips. "May I service you, master?"

Sam's laugh was just a puff of air. "Greedy cunt." His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head up, forcing her eyes from their demure view of his feet.

His eyes were hard with desire, edged with a gentle cruelty that made her pussy throb. "Suck my cock," he growled.

"Yes, master." She couldn't keep the eagerness out of her voice. She unzipped his pants with trembling fingers, removing them and his boxer-briefs as quickly and gently as she could, waiting for him to balance on each foot to step out of the legs.

His cock jutted proudly toward her face, fully erect and oozing precum from the slit. Elise reached for it greedily, but the hand that Sam still had twined in her hair held her back. She whimpered in frustration.

"Smell it first, slut." There was an amused edge of excitement in his voice that she didn't understand until she obeyed him, leaning forward to press her nose to the base of his cock and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another woman's pussy was unmistakable. She looked up in sharp surprise, her face reddening with humiliation while her cunt flooded with moisture. His smile widened as he saw the understanding in her eyes. "I know how you love the taste of pussy," he said. Magnanimous. Cruel. The shame of it sent a hot shard of desire blazing through her.

This was the knife's edge she and Sam played on; the shame, the humiliation, the pain, all melded inextricably with pleasure for her. And for his part, he reveled in causing pain, in grinding her vulnerable spots, in controlling his normally headstrong wife. Theirs was an open marriage, but Sam was usually discreet in his affairs. He'd never rubbed her face in it quite so literally.

He was looking at her expectantly. Elise swallowed hard, and whispered, "Yes, master. Thank you." Slipping back into her submissive mindset was only a challenge until she felt the pressure of Sam's hand at the back of her head, and her mouth opened to take his gorgeous, delicious cock, and oh! the familiar musky taste of him was joined by that tangy, mouthwatering taste of a woman's juices, and the combination made her head spin with joy. She swirled her tongue as she sucked, enthusiastically cleaning the sticky juices off his iron hard rod, licking up and down the shaft and even taking his balls one by one into her mouth to make sure she'd gotten every last delicious drop.

She was vaguely aware of Sam's hands guiding her head to take him deeper and deeper into her throat, as she opened her jaw wide and yawned her throat open and inched her lips down farther on his engorged shaft. The upward curve of his cock proved as difficult as always, hitting the back of her throat and making her gag.

She tried again, and one more time, before she pulled back coughing, her eyes streaming.

"Useless," he said. "Can't even finish a blow job."

Even though she was prepared for it, the stinging slap made her head ring and brought more tears to her eyes.

"Let me try again, master..." She could hear the desperation in her own voice. She was a classic Type A overachiever, and the helplessness of failure made her feel absolutely frantic.

Something which Sam knew very well. "No," he said. "Bend over the desk."

Elise felt her pulse quicken with terror and anticipation as she obeyed, the wood of the desk cool against her overheated skin.

She heard him lean down, heard the slither of leather against fabric. Knew what was coming and trembled, even as her own wetness betrayed her desire.

"I think five will do," Sam said in a soft growl.

And then there was the hard swish of the belt through the air, and the explosion of pain in a brilliant stripe across her buttocks, the sharp crack as it hit her skin.

She swallowed her cry behind gritted teeth. He was not checking his strength or going easy on her today. Panting, she counted off. "One."

The second lash made her gasp and brought tears to her eyes, along with a rush of adrenaline that made her head feel like it was floating. Tomorrow, her flesh would be bruised purple and black. "Two."

She squealed with the third stroke, as it came down squarely on her wet, vulnerable labia. It took what felt like an eternity for her to master herself enough to say, "Three."

Sam took his time before the next one, pacing the room a few times before taking his place behind her again. She was grateful for the rest even as the length of the pause ratcheted up the tension to almost unbearable levels.

When the next lash came, every muscle in her body was singing with tension and the blow felt like it shattered her. She sobbed as she sagged onto the desktop, barely able to whisper, "Four."

The final stroke came as soon as the word was out of her mouth, eliciting only a moan and a shudder of her suddenly loose body. "Five." Her voice broke on the word, thick with tears. Her abused flesh burned and ached and she was slick with sweat.

The belt fell with a soft thud onto the carpet; there was no other sound except the whisper of the air conditioning and Sam's heavy breathing behind her.

"That's a good girl," he said.

Elise felt a rush of pride at his approval and breathed deeply to stop the tears. Her body rang with endorphins and adrenaline. She couldn't stop herself from gasping as the palms of his large hands caressed the heated flesh of her buttocks, the gentle touch both soothing her pain and enflaming her desire until she felt fevered with it. She squirmed her hips, trying to make his hands slip down into the dripping, aching place between her legs.

He swatted her right cheek lightly, eliciting a yelp. Even a light slap, on top of the stripes from the belt, was enough to send hot sparks of pain running through her again. "Lie still."

Elise obeyed.

She felt Sam step in close behind her, his rigid length skidding over her abused skin. He pushed two fingers into her, roughly, and it was all she could do to not press back against him because she needed him to fuck her so badly she was about to lose her mind. He made a satisfied grunt. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?" His fingers were making obscene squelching noises in her sopping pussy.

"Yes, master," she panted, hardly able to breathe. And she had. The pain and humiliation had once again sent her deep into a submissive haze where not just her job but every petty concern, every iota of self doubt, and every other construct of her self fell away, leaving only the naked core of her desire. Her beloved Sam disappeared and her master was all that remained.

She whimpered as her master's fingers continued their rough invasion of her cunt, needing more.

"Yes? Do you want something, slave?" His voice sounded amused.

"Yes, master," she whined, trying and failing to stop herself from pushing her hips back to meet his fingers. "Please."

"Please what?" He pulled his fingers out of her and she cried out in disappointment.

"Please fuck me, master. Please use my cunt like it deserves to be used. I need your cock inside me, master, please..." The words poured from her lips as she begged for what she needed.

He fisted one hand into the short hair at the crown of her head, dragging her head up from where it lay on the cool wood of her desk. Elise whimpered as her body quivered in anticipation. He nudged at her ankles with his foot, wordlessly telling her to open her legs more. Then, taking his cock in his other hand, he positioned the swollen tip at the slippery entrance to her pussy.

With a grunt, he drove into her, burying his entire burning length inside her with one brutal stroke.

Elise moaned. Sam's excitement was unmistakable as he thrust into her again and again with all the considerable strength of his lean, muscular body.

"Tell me, whore," he grunted. "Tell me how much you love your master's cock." He used his hand, still fisted in her hair, to pull her body toward him, arching her back almost painfully backward.

Elise pushed up on the desk with her hands to support this new position and shivered as Sam's hand slipped down to encircle her throat. "Master," she gasped, "I adore your cock." The fingers tightened, pressing the chain of her collar into the tender flesh of her throat. "Please fuck your slave with your beautiful dick. Let me worship you with my pussy, master." The words fell from her lips in a babble that grew more and more incoherent as he plunged into her, the force of his body making her breasts shake as his hips smacked into her.

"Fucking whore," he gritted through his teeth. He brought his flat palm down hard on her abused buttocks. Elise gasped in shock and pushed back against him involuntarily as a fresh gush of liquid flooded her pussy.

"More, master." She couldn't keep a whine out of her voice.

Sam's cock was hard as iron inside her. "You want more?" His voice was edged with cruel excitement.

"Please, more..." She squealed in exquisite pain as his hand fell again and again on her sore flesh and clouds of endorphins pulsed through her. She could feel her pussy juices dripping down her thighs as Sam's cock skewered her again and again, as the desire and pressure built inside her. "Master," she panted, "can I come please?"

He thrust into her hard. "Come for me, bitch."

Her cunt spasmed at his command, clamping down on his cock over and over. Sam cried out with a guttural moan as he buried himself into her as deeply as he could, and Elise orgasmed again as she felt the pulsing pressure of his jizz filling her cunt.

She slowly collapsed onto her desk, welcoming the weight of Sam's body sagging down on top of her.

They lay there together as their breathing came back to normal. "Mmmm." Sam kissed her gently on the neck, then slipped out of her. He stroked her reddened skin, sending new shivers through her body and coaxing her slowly down from her masochistic high.

"You still have a job to do," he purred into her ear.

Elise's mouth curled into a smile. "Yes, master." She pushed herself off the desk onto legs that were still wobbly and turned to face him before she slid to her knees.

Sam's contented sigh as she took him in her mouth again filled her with pleasure. She cleaned her tangy juices off his softening cock until she felt the gentle pressure of his hand on her shoulder. Then she sat back on her heels and smiled up at him. "Wow."

He laughed, helped her to her feet, and then kissed her deeply. "I love you." He smacked her lightly on the ass, making her jump. "Sexy bitch."

Elise giggled. "You have no idea how much I needed that today."

As Sam pulled his pants on, she reached for her panties, but he took them out of her hands. "Leave them off. I'm going to fuck you again as soon as you get home tonight." He stuffed them into his pocket.

"Mmmm." Elise kissed him again, running her tongue slowly over his lips before delving in to explore his mouth. "Yes, sir."

"And then I'll tell you all about who you sucked off my cock earlier." He kissed her once more before he looked at his watch. "Shit. I've got to get back. You doing okay, love?" He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

She smiled. "I am."