Domination Inc. (23 page)

Lawson moved away from her for a moment, and she could hear the sound of a drawer opening and something being retrieved. She thought about trying to get up from the chair and making a run for safety while he was otherwise engaged but, frightened and disorientated as she was, she had no idea where the library door was located, and she sensed that if she tried to escape, Lawson would just send her sprawling painfully to the floor once more. She prayed that, somehow, Cindy had had more luck in escaping whatever fate had befallen her, but she suspected this was far from being the case. Whoever Clive Lawson was, and whatever his reasons were for ambushing the pair of them, this bore all the hallmarks of a well-prepared trap, into which she and Cindy had walked in blithe innocence.

When Lawson returned, his first action was to grasp Laurel's right ankle, which he guided to the nearest leg of the chair and strapped securely in place. He swiftly repeated the action with her left leg, ensuring that she was effectively tethered in place. With her short skirt still hitched up towards her waist, and her legs widely spread, Laurel knew that her knickerless pussy would be all too exposed. The knowledge made her feel more vulnerable than she had done at any point over the last few minutes and yet, at the same time, the thought that Lawson could see every fold and whorl of her sex was making an unexpected pulse of arousal beat strongly between her hobbled legs.

When he reached for the handcuffs and unfastened them, Laurel was too demoralised to protest. Almost passively, she let him remove her jacket completely and strap her wrists to the arms of the chair. She hoped he might remove the scarf that covered her eyes but this, at least, seemed intended to remain in place.

‘You can't begin to believe how beautiful you look, bound and helpless like that,' Lawson began. ‘Truly an angel, indeed. There's just one more thing I need to do...' As he spoke, his fingers flicked at the clasp that fastened Laurel's bra. It sprang apart, and Laurel felt her breasts fall free of the lacy cups.

‘Mouth-watering,' Lawson continued. ‘Though perhaps I should remove those panties from your mouth for a moment, just so you can tell me why it is that your nipples are so hard and stiff, and why I can see the merest hint of your juices glistening at the entrance to your pussy. Could it be that sitting there in bondage, with all your little secrets on display, is actually turning you on, Miss Angell?' He laughed to himself. ‘I'd heard that the girls at your agency were particularly submissive, but I had no idea their boss was of the same persuasion.'

Laurel mumbled into her silken gag. She wanted to deny his accusations, but she knew he spoke the truth. Deep down, she knew she was as submissive as Cindy, and there was a part of her which had longed to be placed in this humiliating position. But whatever her sexual feelings, it was more important that she found out what Lawson wanted. When he pulled the panties out of her mouth, she spat, ‘Just what do you think you're going to achieve by doing this?'

‘All in good time,' Lawson replied. ‘We know we owe you an explanation.'

We? Laurel thought, then heard the soft sound of feet moving over the library's plush carpet, and realised with a shock that there was a third person in the room. She had no idea from the muted footfalls whether they had been joined by a male or a female. How long had whoever it was been standing there silently – and how much had they seen? Although, Laurel conceded, that would have been nothing in comparison to what they could see now, as she sat in passive bondage with her breasts and quim uncovered. She shivered, unable to control her reaction.

‘Who's with you?' she asked.

‘A friend,' Lawson told her. He was moving as he spoke, and Laurel turned her head to follow him, becoming aware that he was now standing behind her. ‘That's all you need to know for the moment. But it might make things a little clearer if I tell you that you have something which rightfully belongs to this friend – and they'd like it back.'

‘I'm sorry, but I really don't know what you're talking about,' Laurel replied.

‘Well, let's see if we can jog your memory between us…'

Laurel felt a hand flick across her nipples, the soft touch enough to make them peak almost painfully. In spite of her vulnerable position, she was growing increasingly turned on, and when the hand was joined by a second, cupping and squeezing her breasts, she could not prevent herself sighing with undisguised pleasure.

The pleasure faded as a third hand joined in the ministrations, a long index finger trailing down the cleft between her breasts, across the gentle swell of her stomach and into the soft red-gold curls that covered her mound. She had been so wrapped up in Lawson's caresses that she had forgotten about his ‘friend', but now she was all too aware that the two of them were not alone. It was a man's finger, she thought frantically, as it skimmed across the slick surface of her labia; either that, or it belonged to a woman who kept her nails trimmed short. Could it be Lawson's wife? she wondered. And then she caught the merest whiff of a spicy, defiantly male cologne, and banished all thoughts of Louisa Lawson.

‘Now, Laurel,' Lawson muttered. ‘Let's talk about that valuable possession of yours…'

The inquisitive finger was now circling Laurel's clitoris, causing her to question exactly which possession Lawson was alluding to. The touch was sure and skilful, designed to bring her to the brink of orgasm with, it seemed, almost minimal effort. If the hands which were stroking and teasing her had belonged to Joe and Warren, as a bedazzled part of her brain could not help hoping, she would surely have climaxed at least once by now. And if those fingers had been replaced by two warm, eager mouths, one suckling at her aching nipples and the other licking every inch of her pussy… Laurel writhed in her bonds, trying to push her breasts and sex closer to the hands which fondled them.

As suddenly as they had begun, the caresses stopped. Laurel's body slumped, as she realised just how far she had been prepared to let Lawson and his accomplice go. Tension prickled between her legs.

‘This is what you want, isn't it?' Lawson's voice was rich and soft in her ear. ‘Here you are, tied and blindfolded, with two virtual strangers doing exactly what they want to your body, and you're so wet you're dripping like a juicy peach. It's such a beautiful picture, I'm tempted to photograph it and keep it for posterity.'

‘No, please…' Laurel begged. ‘Just tell me why you're doing this – or at least stop teasing me.'

‘Oh, there's no teasing here. This is all deadly serious, I can assure you. I told you that you have something my friend wants – and we're going to make sure you give it to him.'

So it definitely was a man who was the silent partner in this encounter. Had that been an unintentional slip on Lawson's part, or was he trying to raise the stakes by making Laurel aware of the true extent of her predicament? Another ruthless, dominant man like Lawson could soon have Laurel begging for mercy – if that was their intention.

When the hand slipped back between her widely-parted thighs and began its explorations once more, it was obvious they intended her to beg for something. A few swift strokes of the soft pad of the man's finger across Laurel's already sensitised clit and she was back on the verge of orgasm. Lawson had talked of photographing her, and she imagined what a picture she would make at this moment. Despite the fact that she was blindfolded, it would be obvious from the way her neck arched and her mouth was open that she was being taken to the heights of ecstasy, and her pale skin would be suffused with the mottled, rosy flush that signified the approach of her climax. With the finger working busily at her little bud – and, she realised, a second and third stretching open the pouting mouth of her sex – it would be a sight to grace any collection of erotic art. A stranger was forcing her to come, controlling the depth of her reactions, and she was loving every moment of it.

Which was when the stimulation stopped again, leaving Laurel panting in frustration. The message was clear: Lawson and his friend could give pleasure, or withhold it as they chose. What she did not understand was why they were treating her in this way.

‘No more games, Laurel. I think it's time I introduced you to my friend,' Lawson said. He unknotted the scarf that covered Laurel's eyes, and whisked it away. She blinked as her vision adjusted to the soft light, then her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw who was kneeling in front of her, licking his fingers thoughtfully. The moustache had gone, and the hair was a rich copper, rather than its original light brown, but there was no mistaking her erstwhile business partner, Roger Preston.

‘You!' Laurel exclaimed. ‘What the bloody hell are you playing at? Where have you been? Do you know what I've been through since you disappeared?'

Roger smiled, as though he was enjoying a joke he was not prepared to share. ‘Oh yes, I know exactly what you've been up to. Your fame has spread all the way to Los Angeles, would you believe? I must say, I admire your fortitude, working so hard to build the agency back up like that. Any other girl would have given up and gone bankrupt. But then you're not like other girls, are you, Laurel?' His finger went to his mouth again. ‘You taste delicious, by the way. And I never thought you'd have quite such a beautiful cunt.'

‘I don't want your compliments, Roger. I just want you to untie me, and let me go.'

‘All in good time.' Roger stroked her hair away from her face, where it clung in sweat-dampened tendrils. ‘You see, sweetheart, I never wanted to let the agency go, not really. It was just that we'd reached a stage where it was more... expedient if I bowed out of running it for a while.'

‘Yes, bowing out so completely that no one would ever know you'd been involved. You were quite prepared to let me lose everything, you bastard, and now you stand there, calm as you like, and talk about expediency.' Laurel itched for her hands to be freed, so that she could slap the self-assurance from Roger's face.

‘But I knew I could leave everything in your safe hands, sweetheart.' Roger's voice dripped with the charm Laurel remembered well. ‘And you didn't let me down. I tell you, you're getting rave reviews on the Internet – you must have them queuing up for our services.'

‘They aren't
our
services,' Laurel retorted. ‘You took your name off all the deeds. You don't have a stake in the agency any more.'

‘That's where you're wrong,' Roger said. ‘I have copies of all the original documents. You and me, equal partners, just as it should be. Just as it will be from now on.'

Laurel shook her head. ‘Joe Gallagher's my partner now. He bailed me out when you fled.'

‘Joe Gallagher?' Roger pretended to cast around in his memory for a moment. ‘Ah, yes. Your old friend, PC Hopalong. How is the dear boy? Still limping his way through life?'

‘Joe's fine,' Laurel snapped, stung by Roger's snide reference to Joe's accident. ‘Like I said, we're partners now. We have all the deeds, drawn up in both names, so I'm afraid those documents of yours aren't worth the paper they're printed on.'

‘Oh, Laurel.' Roger sighed. ‘I did hope you were going to make this easy for me. After all, a few moments ago you seemed so willing.'

‘Our partnership's over, Roger. It was over the day I found out you'd skipped the country and left me with a pile of debts. Why should I want anything to do with you now?'

‘But we were so good together.' Roger's hand stroked down Laurel's cheek and caressed the nape of her neck. ‘This is our chance to start again. To put our partnership on a whole new footing.'

Laurel shivered. What was he suggesting? That they become not only business partners once more, but lovers, too? The idea was unthinkable: even if she had felt any desire for him, too much had happened since he had walked out on the agency. She could never regard him with any affection again.

‘I'm sorry, Roger. I can't do what you want,' she replied.

‘Can't? Or won't?' His hand was on her breast now, stroking the nipple, which still ached from its earlier stimulation. ‘Don't forget, you're not the only person who's involved here. After all, there's your little friend Cindy to think of, too. Did Clive not mention that his wife is an accomplished dominatrix? She may not charge for her services, unlike our staff…'

Laurel could not help flinching at Roger's repeated use of the word ‘our'. She wanted to fight him every inch of the way to deny him access to the agency. And yet, if by holding out against him she was placing Cindy in danger, what could she do?

‘It's quite simple,' Roger said. ‘I want you to agree to dissolve your partnership with Joe. And I want the half of the agency which is rightfully mine. We have plenty of time to discuss this. After all, no one will be expecting to see you before Monday morning, and if someone was to ring the agency and say you were unwell and staying with friends for a few days, who knows how long we could continue your stay here.'

‘And what's in it for me and Joe?' Roger's touch on her breasts was arousing Laurel in spite of herself, and she fought to clear her head as she struggled with the implications of his proposal.

Roger smiled. ‘Oh, I hear Joe has more than proved his worth as an escort, so he needn't worry about being short of a job. And, judging by your reactions, I think you're wasting your time sitting behind a desk all day. I'm sure there are many men who'd pay handsomely to have that lovely mouth of yours wrapped round their cock, or to spank your arse until it's crimson and glowing.'