Poor Little Rich Slut (9 page)

“So what do you think of yourself now?” he asked.

“Differently,” I said.

He laughed a little. “Suppose you could be less obscure?”

“I don’t know what to think, Garrison. And honestly that’s the best I can say right now. Don’t force me to say more.” He ran his hand through my dark hair, letting it fall through his fingers. I worried what he was thinking; the oddest, best and worst things came out his long silences.

“You’ve been through a lot in two days,” he finally spoke. “You think you can take more. Do you want more?”

“I gave myself to you. I trust you,” I said.

He looked a little troubled when I reminded him of that, and I cocked my head, silently questioning him.

“I thought our little arrangement would be a breeze. You, a novice with no experience…” He paused as if he didn’t know what else to say.

“But you’re having a problem now?”

“That depends. You bring out something in me I haven’t felt for some time. I used to allow myself to go there, but it’s been a few years.”

“You’re scared of yourself?”

He shrugged. “I’m more scared for you. Sex doesn’t have to be about lying on a bed of wire and springs, and getting anally raped, and caned until there are welts all over your body. Sex can just be sex, you know, sensuous, romantic…soft music, wine, candlelight… You ever think about it that way?”

“I believe I was the one who said she wanted to be punished,” I reminded him.

“But are you looking for candlelight and satin sheets and a simple romance? Because if you are, I’m not sure I can give you that now. You’ve brought back my demons, Heiress. And I’m not about to hold you to an agreement you hate.”

Oddly enough, he seemed to need reassuring more than I did. “If you think I hate what’s been happening, then you’re not very astute.”

“It could get a whole lot rougher,” he added.

“And maybe your warning only makes me hunger for more,” which was exactly the effect his caution was having on my body.

He stared into my eyes and
nodded,
a self-satisfied smirk on this face. “Okay then,” he said, “round two. Your father is playing golf this afternoon. You’ll dismiss the servants until five, which should leave enough time for what I have to do. Angelica can stay of course; I might need her.”

“Need
her
for what?”

He shook his head, “That’s my surprise. Go take a shower. I’ll be back shortly.”

He left me sitting on the mattress wondering what came next. My body registered the promise of something new with spasms of arousal that renewed my lust as much as they
peaked
my interest.

It took just seconds for Angelica and Garrison to turn the long granite island in the kitchen into a medical table. While I looked on, Angelica cleared it off and sprayed it down with household disinfectant. Once the surface was dry to Garrison’s touch, he nodded at me.

“On your back, slut.”

I felt both silly and awkward following his order, but that didn’t stop me from backing into the island and lifting my bottom to the granite. I then swung my legs around, scooted back and laid down on the hard cool surface of polished stone.

“Nope, come forward,” Garrison said as he appraised my position. He tugged my legs forward, but my skin was stuck. “Move up. So your ass is nearly off the edge. Put your feet up beside your bottom.”

Adjusting my body forward, I found that my pussy was splayed wide in the position Garrison wanted. With my feet beside my ass, my entire cleft was exposed.

“How about a little bondage?” he remarked to Angelica.
“Hands above her head?
The ropes are in my bag.”

“Yes, sir.”
Angelica proceeded to bind my wrists together with the thick rope then attach them to the towel rack at the other end of the island. It was hardly like being bound to the bed in the attic, but I felt helpless nonetheless, again driven toward the submissive state of mind that seemed to have overtaken the rational woman I once prided myself on being.

While Angelica bound me, Garrison fooled with some unseen something he pulled from tiny packages and laid out on the adjacent kitchen counter. He hid his finds behind his satchel so I couldn’t see what they were.
Though when I heard the snap of latex gloves, I got a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Play with her, Angelica,” he nodded to the maid, who had just finished securing my hands. The girl moved in between my legs and, smiling, began to finger my slit with such a subtle sensuous touch that my butt began to bounce on the granite, delighted with the thrill. “Stop your squirming!” Garrison snapped at me absently. He was quite intent on what he was doing, which only made me more curious and increasingly afraid.

Finally, when he shooed Angelica to the side and stood in her place, he swathed a disinfectant-smelling rag along my wet snatch. He tugged at my clitoris next, pulling hard purposely, until it was stretched as far as it could.

My eyes went wide, but I didn’t make a sound.

Meanwhile, his eyes danced with laughter, as though he enjoyed the secretive game as much as I dreaded it. When he pulled back the hood of my clitoris and exposed the sensitive bud, I drew in a sharp breath. The way the air danced across the vulnerable flesh made me anxious.
What was he planning to do?

“Scare you?” he asked the obvious.

“Yes,” I said, almost too sharply.

He laughed and moved on to inspect me in the area of my perineum, where touching the delicate spot between my vulva and anus made my whole bottom end twitter with excitement. Still, I couldn’t tell what he planned to do, but I could see by his expression that he was considering, weighing choices and finally making a decision; one that would impact me for a very long time.

“I want you to take a deep breath and relax, Eleanor. While I’m busy down here, Angelica is going to kiss you like a lover.” His fingers gently toyed with my opening. His voice was sensuous now, almost musical and soothing. “You’ll kiss her back, getting lost in those kisses.”

Angelica bent over my face and her mouth hovered over my lips.

“Just focus on her eyes and the feel of her lips. I’m going to pierce you twice.”

I
cringed
the instant I heard the word pierced, and instinctively jerked my head away from the attentive maid.

“Go back to her, Eleanor,” Garrison ordered.

I heard the sound of him removing one pair of gloves and replacing them with another. Another swipe of disinfectant cloth cooled my crevice again. Again, I felt him tug the hood of my clitoris and, while my body was tempted to seize up, I stared into Angelica’s eyes and focused on the way her soft lips skirted mine, the way her tongue lingered over them and explored my parted mouth. Our tongues met and danced erotically together, making me almost forget what Garrison was preparing to do. I’d begun to drift on the sweetness of her tender lips, when a sudden pain shocked my body and made me to flinch for one long horrible second. The sharp sensation subsided quickly and a pleasurable sensation followed, along with the appalling realization that I’d actually been pierced.

Garrison continued with this work, while I let this realization settle deep. I could not yet understand what it meant. Was this for pleasure? Or was there some symbolic meaning in the act? Was Garrison claiming me, or simply making me a better toy?

The questions were easy to come by, but the answers not as obvious.

Angelica continued with her ardent kisses, smiling knowingly, while I became vaguely aware that Garrison had moved his attention lower, to that spot just beyond my vagina were I found my physical body most sensitive. He pulled the flesh there and a ripe, warm feeling traveled through me, touching every nerve—nothing sharp or explosive about this, but pure erotic pleasure added to my aroused state.

I trembled with fear, knowing that another bright burst of pain would send another shockwave through me. But my fear did not supplant my arousal; it only amplified what happened next.

As I anxiously awaited that next shocking pain, I poured myself into Angelica’s lips, kissing her with the same eagerness as she kissed me. Any second I could imagine her climbing on my body and making love to me while I returned the favor. But suddenly, a sharp burning sting rifled through me, as a needle pierced my flesh for a second time. It was as rough as the first pierce, although the initial pain subsided as quickly.

Angelica immediately backed off with Garrison pulling her aside.

“Good work, girl,” he said, patting her on the butt.

“You let me cum with her again, huh?” she sweetly asked.

“We’ll see, slut.” His eyes danced over her as if he was in love, but then he quickly diverted his attention to me, giving me the same lusty, adoring gaze. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m wonderful,” I said in a dreamy sort of trance, “but what did you do?”

“You’re pierced.”

“Yes, I know that. But…”

“I did the same pierce to a woman several years ago… quite useful.”

Useful?
How?

“For right now, it’ll be enough for you to get used to the sensation of having the two rings there. You’ll have a good six weeks of keeping them meticulously clean. By then, I’ll be back from
Japan
and it will be my turn to enjoy them.”

“
Japan
? You’re going to
Japan
!”

“Daddy’s orders, darlin’.
One of those crises that only I can fix.
Meanwhile, you’ll get exactly what you want –
Country Manor
is all yours. It’s sink or swim, sweetheart. My meddlesome fingers will be stirring someone else’s pot.” He seemed to take great joy in mocking me, while I lay on the granite counter like the plundered spoils of war—savagely taken then tossed away.

***

Garrison Tate totally fucked with my life and left me hanging! What kind of no good louse was he anyway? Fucking scoundrel! Demented sadist!

Dammit! My body ached in every place possible… from the steaming contractions in my belly, to my quivering cunt, to my violated asshole, to the rings that started it all, that viciously throbbed with every move I made.

Garrison recommended I wear plain, cotton, breathable panties, especially since, with him gone, I wouldn’t be seductively baring my pussy for anyone else. Or, if I really wanted to, I could go
pantiless
and let the
piercings
heal and breathe. His eyes, his words, his entire being mocked me as he gave me my instructions for the next six weeks. He also insinuated that he had a hand in my father leaving
Country Manor
in my hands alone. “It’s a big leap for your old man,” he said. “Don’t let him down.”

Was I supposed to thank him like I would some gracious benefactor? Garrison’s leaving for six weeks was not exactly what I wanted—neither personally nor with the business. I may have harped on the idea that he was ‘looking after’ me for Daddy, but I did rely on him. I was hardly two weeks on the job and now there’d be no go-between to smooth things over if I did something stupid. And how the hell had I managed to initiate my career
and
my sexual awakening at the same time? Life was hardly fair.

There was only one day to get used to the rings before I was back at work. Garrison was already in
Japan
by the time I arrived in the office at
8:00
the next Monday morning. I could immediately tell that something was missing in the bustling atmosphere.
His presence, of course, the steady hand, the cocky grin, the laser beam insight… all that would have to wait until he got back.
We’ll muddle through, I heard my minions saying to themselves as they brought more questions to my desk that first morning than I’d had in two weeks. Had Garrison set me up for this barrage of activity, or was I just now realizing what it took to run a magazine?

Thankfully, the heavy workload offset that nagging sexual ache. Only when I managed to jerk in the wrong direction too quickly did I feel a sharp pain coming from one of the
piercings
. When I happened to do that in the presence of my employees I winced, hoping that they didn’t notice. I complained of a sore knee to my secretary when it became more than obvious to her that I was hurting.

My first phone call from Garrison came on Friday of that first week. By then, I was exhausted and dying for sexual release. He’d cautioned that I’d better not play at all for a couple of weeks. I certainly couldn’t have real sex without endangering the
piercings
. Hearing his voice, I was both comforted and put on notice.

“So, what’s up? I hear you’re doing a smashing job,” he said.

“Oh, and what spies have you been talking to?”

“You think I have spies?” he said, sounding
so
innocent that I almost gagged.

“I know you do,” I came back tersely.

He chuckled.

“Well, has anything fallen apart in my absence?”

“I’m doing great on the job. Maybe everyone wouldn’t think so, but I have a feeling
it’s
good that you’re gone. The staff is relying on me. I told them that you were unavailable, and if they had their reservations about something, we’d work through it together. They may actually start to trust me.”

“Some of those guy are tough cookies,” he said to console me.

“Oh, it’s not the guys I have the most trouble with. There are a couple of bitches in the department that I think would like to have my head…either that, or tie me to a metal bed for a good old-fashioned torture.”

“And is that what Eleanor wants?”

“No, I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re missing it, you’re missing me.”

Yes, I was missing him terribly and even more so since I heard his voice and wished he was in the next office. “I don’t have time to miss you,” I said. I doubt he was convinced.

“That’s too bad, because I miss you.”

I wasn’t prepared for that.

“So, Heiress, how about you take out a pen,
reach
under the table, under your skirt and put it through one of your new rings. Give it a tug.”

“Oh, my!”
I said aghast. Suddenly, all my submerged sexuality leapt on me like a hungry tiger.

“No
oh,
mys
, gorgeous, just do it,” he said.

The flutter in my belly grew wild. My hand was shaking, I was suddenly scared. I have no idea why, but it seemed so doubly lewd to be having kinky phone sex on company time.
Lewd and very wrong.

“Have you done it?” he impatiently asked, while I was still thinking through the act.

I jumped, immediately opening my desk and taking out my best Cross pen and lifting my skirt. I realized I liked having the simple cotton panties to protect my new jewelry. I’d been faithful with all his instructions about cleaning and taking care of the pierces. I didn’t touch them otherwise. I certainly didn’t put pens through the rings and tug on them.

Pulling down my panties, I sat slouched in my desk chair and looked down as I gingerly lifted the ring with the pen and slid it through the opening. Even that caused a throbbing reminder that the pierce was not healed. With a gentle tug,
a swoosh
of energy poured through my groin.

“So?” Garrison prompted me.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t fair?”

“It’s turning me on, dammit! What do you think it’s doing to me? And I can do nothing.”

“That’s right,” he took pleasure in taunting me. “Now tug on the other one.”

I slouched even further in my chair so I could reach the ring embedded at the base of my vagina. That required my fingers to hold it up before I could slip the pen through the opening. I practically dropped the phone cradled between my ear and neck.