The Gray Man Ch. 39 - Emilee

Gretchen sat, mesmerized by the man standing in front of her. He was gentle, kind, giving, protectful - but this was a part of his strength she had never experienced. Her hands folded almost obediently in her lap as he walked closer to her. His cock dripped her spit and his cum with each step. Part of her was terrified by what he would do next, and part of her couldn't wait to find out what he would do next. What he did would change her world.

Gray squatted down, his elbows on his knees, his eyes just inches away from hers. She didn't know what to expect but the powerful whispered command, "You have permission, cum for your Master."

Gretchen opened her mouth to speak but instead she could only take in a deep breath as an orgasm tore through her body. Her eyes slammed closed, her knees spread further apart as she slipped to the floor. He hadn't touched her, just spoken and her own body betrayed her.

Just as she was regaining some composure, through the post orgasmic fog she heard the word, "Again." This time her entire body convulsed. She was grateful for being flexible as her knees were splayed wide and she leaned back onto the matted floor of the gym. Her stomach bucked, her hips moved, her nipples hardened as the unmistakable feeling of orgasmic release rocked through her again.

TJ just chuckled at the predicament Gretchen found herself in. Just as the next wave of orgasms passed he commented more forcefully. "Again slut, let your body prove to your mind that I own you."

This time the orgasms were accompanied by a deep throaty scream. Every part of her brain wanted to deny him the satisfaction but her brain was shut down by her body and its need to obey.

When this wave started to lessen she opened her eyes and looked for her cousin. What she saw was him walking out the door, "Lock up before you leave Gretch." He paused and turned towards her, "Cum for me, NOW."

As TJ walked into the locker room to change Gretchen was left writhing on the floor, her body doing exactly what TJ had commanded. She was cumming like a common whore from just his command. This turn of events would leave her mind muddled and confused for weeks.

Gretchen composed herself and escaped the gym before TJ returned from the shower. She felt humiliated while at the same time feeling more seen and free than she had ever felt in her life. She would have to worry about that reality later, right now the most pressing issue was helping Tori.

The next afternoon Gretchen followed Emilee from her office to lunch. The Lafayette Restaurant exuded an air of refined elegance as it was less than a mile from The White House.Gretchen approached Emilee's table, The clinking of silverware and hushed conversations provided a sophisticated backdrop to the impending confrontation.

"Emilee Mitchell?" Gretchen's voice, though low, cut through the ambient noise, drawing Emilee's attention away from her gourmet salad. "We need to talk."

Emilee looked up, a dismissive smirk playing on her lips. "First off, who are you? Secondly, my time isn't cheap so if you're going to talk to me it will be billable hours."

Gretchen took a seat opposite her, choosing a discreet corner where the murmur of the restaurant provided a semblance of privacy. Gretchen smiled, "I'm not the one here to pay and what we are talking about is the dangerous game you're playing with Tori and Nick."

Emilee laughed lightly, an arrogant confidence in her demeanor. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Gretchen leaned in, a subtle intensity in her eyes. "Cut the bullshit, Emilee. Tori shared the details with me, the pictures, the threats, the blackmail."

Emilee's facade faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, fixing Gretchen with a defiant gaze. "Tori's a fool. I'm not scared of her little revelations."

Gretchen slid a discreet envelope across the table, its contents a silent testament to the gravity of the situation. "Maybe you should be. Your game is over, Emilee. Tori won't be your pawn any longer."

Emilee scoffed, flipping open the envelope as if it held no significance. "What are you going to do? Expose me? Save Tori and Nick's crumbling marriage? It takes two, it's not my fault that Tori couldn't satisfy her husband."

Gretchen seethed, "Funny, their marriage was fine before you showed up."

Emilee used her napkin to dab gently at the side of her mouth, "Again, it's not my fault that Nick found me more appealing."

Gretchen's composure remained unbroken. "This is about justice, Emilee. It's about putting an end to your manipulation and deceit."

Emilee reclined in her chair, a condescending smile lingering on her lips. "Justice? In this world? This is Washington, DC. You should know better than to believe in justice."

Gretchen's resolve intensified, her knuckles turning white beneath the table. "I won't let you destroy them."

Emilee chuckled, the sound sending a chill through the restaurant's refined atmosphere. "You can't stop me, I hold all the cards. Nick brought this destruction all by himself."

Gretchen leaned forward, "What will it take to make this go away? If not for Tori and Nick then for their kids."

Emillee's chuckle grew to a laugh, "Listen to me, bitch. Nick wasn't worried about his damn kids when his balls were bouncing off of my ass in his wife's bed. He wasn't thinking about his spawn when I straddled him and rode his dick. I do not give two fucks about his kids."

Gretchen rose, her gaze unwavering. "When this is over remember this meeting. I gave you a chance to back down, what happens next is a direct result of your actions."

Gretchen made her way back to the office, walked down the long hallway to TJ's office, knocked and walked in.

Gray's back was to the door, he was pouring over satellite images from Yemen for probably the one thousandth time. Gretchen felt a wave of submissiveness wash over her as she watched TJ roll his head to loosen his neck.

"Excuse me, Sir," Gretchen was mortified that the honorific slipped out of her mouth as TJ closed his computer screen and turned around.

TJ looked at his cousin, "Sit, talk to me. What do you need?"

Her brain raced, 'I need you to bend me over the desk and fuck me until I can't walk," is what she wanted to say, instead she took a deep breath, "You asked for information about Emilee."

TJ was irritated, "Go on."

Gretchen handed him a dossier, the weight of its contents resonating through the room. "She's an attorney, a wolf in sheep's clothing. She is a hippie, a crunchy granola type. She is an environmental attorney by trade and used her expertise to get in close to Tori and Nick."

TJ looked through the dossier, "I know. Nick fucked her and got caught. What do you propose?"

Gretchen felt her mouth get dry, "Make it stop. Hurt her."

TJ sat back, "Gretchen, Nick played a stupid game and got caught. It's a story that plays itself out hundreds of times a day. Tell Tori to divorce his ass and move on."

Gretchen sighed, "She's one of my best friends, she's scared, humiliated, and they have two kids that she is trying to protect. I even mentioned the kids to Emilee and she responded that Tori's kids aren't her concern." Gretchen could tell by the change in his eyes that the kids was the arrow that started the war.

TJ stood up, "I'll make you a fucking deal. Work this hard in finding YOUR NIECE and I'll make sure Emilee is not a problem going forward."

That evening, Emilee hit send and sat back with a deep, satisfied sigh. Her plan was working to perfection. Taking down Nick and Tori was part of a larger plan to spare the world of more fields of solar panels along the countryside. She stretched, raising her slender, graceful arms high over her head to work the kinks out of her back. She chuckled remembering the way she handled herself at lunch. She was pleasantly tired, and realized she was hungry.

Emilee rose and moved into the small kitchen of her small house. She'd fix herself a salad and warm up the chicken Marsala she'd made the day before, she decided. She put the chicken into the oven to warm and poured herself a glass of wine. After making the salad, she carried it out to the patio, overlooking the South River. It was her favorite spot to relax. When she'd become a successful attorney she bought the little cottage in Riva, 45 minutes outside of the city, near the Harbor Hills Yacht Club.

Her little bungalow overlooked the water, with a small strip of cleared land between the house and the shoreline, and thick trees on either side. There were other houses nearby, but they were far enough apart that she felt as if she were miles from anyone. She couldn't hear or see her neighbors, and there were no paths that ran behind the houses. They could only be reached from the front.

Of course, there were paths in the dense forest, animal trails mostly, but they were passable if someone were determined. As she sat there, she was unaware of the man hidden in the trees, watching her. After dinner Emilee slipped out of the bungalow, wearing a sports bra and running tights. Her run along the riverfront was her nightly form of relaxation. Gray watched from the shadows. She returned home just as the sun began to set, Emilee went inside to shower and Gray slipped from the treeline.

Gray was in his element. Hidden, moving like a ghost. He was so experienced at what he did forest animals were shocked to look up from eating to find the large man close by.

Emilee locked the doors, and went in to shower. It was a warm night. Following her shower she slipped on a tank top and a pair of panties and wrapped a towel around her wet hair. She opened the sliding glass door, but made sure the lock on the screen was engaged, before settling down on the sofa with a book and another glass of wine. When she began to yawn, she put the book down and headed to bed. When Gray noticed the light switch off and the sliding door still opened he made his move. From shadow to shadow, onto the deck, a quick flick of his knife and the screen was cut. Slipping his hand inside the doorframe he unlocked the door and slid quietly into the darkened house.

He moved through the darkened rooms silent as a cat, making his way with confidence. He moved into the bedroom and stared down at her. A shaft of moonlight flowed across her like a caress, gilding her short blonde hair as it laid spread over the pillow.

Emilee heard her bedroom door open and sat up. Reaching towards her nightstand to gather the small 38 revolver that was hidden in her drawer, but she was too slow. Gray was on her before she could reach her protection. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and pushed her back down onto the bed, while a hand wrapped around her throat.

Emilee trembled, "Hello Emilee, I'm going to move my hand, if you so much as utter a sound I will kill you. You wouldn't be the first nor the last. Do I make myself clear?" Gray hissed.

Her blue eyes bulged, some from fear and some from the lack of wind as the large hand closed a bit tighter on her throat. She nodded frantically.

Gray chuckled, "Good girl." Before her brain could grasp what was happening her wrists and ankles were secured to the bed frame. She fought him, but at 5'3 and 120 pounds she was no match for the 6'1 decorated soldier. He laughed as she tried to fight him which just pissed her off.

She opened her mouth to scream as he sat down beside her. "No, no, my dear, no screaming, please," a pleasant and gentle voice said gently as a hand covered her mouth and nose muffled her scream. His other hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out a ball gag. Her eyes went wide and she shook her head. "I know, I had other plans for your pretty little mouth but I don't think I can trust you."

Gray slipped the gag into her mouth and quickly pulled the straps around her head, fastening it tightly. He stood and walked to her French Doors and pulled them open, even pulling back the shears. "I just love the sound of the river lapping against the shore and the coastal breeze, don't you?"

Emilee looked up at him, terror squeezing her heart. A tear slipped over the edge and trailed down her temple. He brushed at it with a fingertip. "Cry all you want, it will not stop what is about to happen."

She didn't believe him, of course. She glared at him now, and tried to speak.

He smiled. "I can't understand you with the gag. But I'm guessing you know what's going to happen now." He sighed, and gently wiped at her tears again. "Do you know who I am?"

She shook her head slowly, and tugged at her bonds. They were thick leather straps, lined with fur, so they gave her no pain. But they were fitted snugly and she couldn't escape. "I am Justice. You see, there is justice in this city if you know the right people." He smiled, and leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp.

Emilee's eyes flew open, the memory of her conversation at lunch came rushing back as she violently shook her head hoping that she would wake up from the nightmare that was crushing around her.

He wore a balaclava. The thin material was pushed up over his nose and mouth. He wore an expensive, tailored black suit. She couldn't see his hair, but he had piercing green eyes, much brighter than her own pale blue ones. He rose, and moved over to the reading chair by the window. He removed his jacket and shoes, and then returned to her. Sitting down he reached out to gently touch her face. She flinched away from him, making panicked sounds behind the gag.

"You are a beautiful woman, Emilee. The picture my client showed me did not do you justice. I understand why Nick was so easily seduced by you." He saw her eyes go wide, and chuckled. "Oh, yes, I know exactly who you are, Emilee Mitchell. I know just about everything about you. You see, you hurt the wrong people." Gray picked up his knife from the bedside table. "Don't worry, I'm not going to cut you... yet. This just helps get rid of your clothes."

Emilee trembled as he brought the knife close to her stomach. He began to cut the fabric straight up the middle. The cold steel of the back of the knife made her shiver as it passed up her belly and between her small tits. When the material parted, he sat back to gaze down at her breasts. "Small, perky, but very nice," he said, smiling. 34 B Gray guessed.

He fished into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out two metal clips connected by chain. He held them in front of her face, dangling them threateningly. He grabbed her chin and held her face to his staring right into her eyes and again they communicated with only a look more than a thousand words ever could.

Gray clamped one nipple at a time and watched her suck in her breath and bite her lip trying not cry out from the pain of the metal squeezing her flesh tightly. When both clamps were firmly in place she looked away and closed her eyes but he grabbed her chin again and turned her face to him. She wrenched her face free of his grip and looked away again but he grabbed her chin again, turned her to face him and then slapped her across her right cheek. She cried out when his hand struck her and she looked at him mouth held open in shock. Just to emphasize his point he slapped the left cheek although not as hard this time and received the same look of shock and horror.

TJ cut the shirt from neck to waist, and pulled the garment out from under her, ignoring her now free-flowing tears. Then he moved to her panties, cutting the sides, and tugged them away. She lay naked before him now. His gaze roved over her. "Nicely trimmed, I am impressed."

Gray quickly undid both of her feet from the straps and rolled her, exposing her ass. Emilee was trying to anticipate what was going to happen to her when she felt the sharp sting as Gray spanked her bare ass so hard he left a red handprint. Her feet kicked as she cried out in shock and pain.

"Say 'thank you, sir'" he whispered into her ear.

"Thank you, sir," she said, or at least she tried to say with the gag in her mouth and between louder sobs.

He spanked her again. And again. And again. She screamed into the gag, she had never been spanked or slapped and it genuinely hurt. The humiliation was that she could feel her body betraying her as he spanked her ass. When his fingertip traced the seam of her cunt, she moaned softly and he felt her warm silk on his fingertip.

"You fucking love it, don't you slut?" he asked.

She continued crying, and shook her head 'no' - Gray only laughed as he continued to spank her nonstop for a full minute, until her ass was crimson. She was sobbing loudly, but her pussy was flooding with warm cream. He lowered her ass back to the bed and reattached the cuffs to her ankles.

TJ had planned to play good cop and bad cop all by himself. Emilee closed her eyes in shame and horror. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. She jerked when she felt his hand on her stomach, expecting violence. However, the large hand felt warm as the shock had caused her body to be very cold. He rubbed gently across to her waist, and let his hand rest there as he smiled at her. "We will begin with a massage, to help you relax."

TJ stood and removed his shirt, belt and socks, but left his slacks in place. He reached over to the table, and a moment later soft music wafted into the room. He opened a bottle of oil, and poured some into his hands, then put them on her stomach again. He began to massage the oil into her skin gently. "I do enjoy good little cum dumpsters. The female body is one of God's greatest gifts to men. I take great pleasure in it." He smirked, "And from it." As he spoke, he worked the oil into her breasts, being sure to avoid her painfully clamped nipples. He then moved up her chest, then down her arms. Then he moved to her feet, and worked his way slowly up her legs.

At first, Emilee lay rigid, looking away from him. However her assailant knew what he was doing. The massage felt wonderful, she couldn't deny that, and her body began to relax. Even when he'd rubbed the oil onto her breasts, it hadn't been sexual, just gentle. He hadn't spent any more time on them than he had on other parts of her body. By the time he began on her feet, she was relaxed. But as he moved up she began to tense up again. He smiled as he massaged her thighs, looking up at her. "I had my staff make this special. It smells wonderful, and actually has an aphrodisiac effect to it.don't you think? The SVB, that's the Russian CIA has a drug that they inject that causes a body to orgasm with no control. This is a more gentle version of that."

That statement alarmed Emilee, and she stiffened, her eyes wide. She gave a muffled shriek when his fingers moved over her mound. His gaze grew more intense as he covered her with his hand and rubbed lightly. On the third rub, he slipped a finger between her folds, eliciting another shriek from her. She shook her head vigorously, and her legs strained to close, but there was nothing she could do to evade his touch. He rubbed slowly, up and down, then side to side, then in small circles. He encouraged her to relax and enjoy it. She glared at him.

Gray taunted her, "I take it from shaking your head and the scream into the gag that your brain is protesting." The chuckle that escaped his lips dripped with evil arrogance. "Trust me whore, no matter what your brain is saying to you it's lying because your body is built for this." He pulled his finger from her, "Trust me, there is more of your wetness on my finger than the oil."

After a few minutes of this, she was shocked to realize that this too felt amazing. He knew exactly where to touch and just how to touch to drive her mad. She tried to tell herself it was that damned oil, but in the dark recesses of her mind she knew that her rapist knew exactly where and how to touch to elicit the response he wanted. She squeezed her eyes shut, repeating over and over, 'No, no, no, no.' but it really did feel good. She'd rarely had a man take so much time in the total sexual act much less a massage of her clit and G spot. The oil made her slick, and his finger glided over her nub easily. When he slipped lower, and pressed up slowly inside her, she stiffened and jerked in surprise at the sharp thrill of pleasure.