Maggie and the Master (11 page)

‘Guido?' she called more earnestly, increasingly unsettled by her chilling solitude, but still there was no response of any kind. She tried to sense what was going on. The minutes ticked by slowly. She pulled on her restraints, aware even as she tugged at them that it was pointless. She became more anxious and her pulse quickened as panic again threatened to overwhelm her.

And then, just when she thought she could bear it no longer, she heard the door open again. Maggie had no idea who it was - Guido returning, or Max. Her emotions teetered between relief and trepidation. As she strained to pick up any clues as to the identity of the presence, she could just discern the movement of feet and whisper of male voices.

‘H-hello?' she stuttered. ‘Who is it? Master? Guido? Is that you?'

No one answered, and Maggie tugged desperately on the restraints, twisting her wrists, trying to loosen the cuffs that held her tight.

‘Is there anyone there?' she cried again, a little louder this time, at last provoking a response.

‘For God's sake gag her,' ordered a male voice she didn't recognise, and then she heard footsteps and someone moving closer. Something round and hard was pushed into her mouth and straps tied tight at the back of her head. It was a ball-gag. Maggie let out a wail of apprehension. Now she couldn't speak or see, but she could still hear and her body froze as a voice whispered in her ear.

‘Hello, Maggie,' it said. ‘Your master tells us that you need to be used like a proper slave should be.'

Maggie strained hard against the cuffs.

‘I'm sure an arrogant little bitch like you has fantasies of more than one man taking you at a time? Don't you, eh? And that's what we're here for. To make you beg for mercy and beg for more. How do you like the idea of that, eh, Maggie?'

As the voice continued to taunt soft tendrils stroked across her breasts and stomach, the touch sensual yet alarming. Maggie groaned behind the gag as her nipples responded, tightening. She shook her head in denial, trying to say no to the cruel goading, then a stinging lash across her breasts made her sex tighten and the moan from behind the gag become a wild sob. More lashes cut across her breasts, buttocks, thighs and belly. Maggie couldn't hold back, she cried and then screamed into the gag, struggling against the cuffs and spreader bar.

Just when she thought she could take no more her tormentor leant close. ‘A little word of warning, Maggie,' he whispered sharply. ‘You are our plaything today. Max says we can do exactly what we want to you. And trust me, whatever we want to do to you, we will do. Although if you do what you're told we might just let you go when we've finished with you. But if not you might find yourself tied down here for quite some time.'

Maggie shrieked again as six hard strikes of a cane cut across her buttocks. She tried to force herself to stop struggling, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Hands began working their way over her body, touching and molesting with callous intensity. Fingers slid inside her wet sex, finding and then circling the hardening ridge of her clitoris, while another eased into her bottom making her wriggle and sob in protest. As she tried to pull away from them a hungry mouth closed over one of her breasts, sucking and biting the nipple, then another mouth started suckling the other, while two pairs of hands mauled between her parted thighs from the front and from the rear.

Maggie struggled to breathe, saliva trickling around the ball-gag and down her chin. She moaned, frightened and anxious, and yet against all the odds she secretly began to enjoy the crude attentions. As if sensing her growing arousal the mouths pulled away.

She sighed, but any sense of relief was misplaced and premature.

‘Enjoying it, aren't you, sweetheart?' the voice drooled salaciously. There was a moment's fumbling between her tensed thighs, she held her breath, wondering what was coming next, and then something thrust up inside her without prelude. Maggie cried out with shock as her body opened in its path, and then again as someone gripped her breasts and pinched her nipples tight with a set of cold metal clamps. The pleasure and pain combination was almost unbearable. Her sex began contracting while the thick dildo thrust without compassion in and out of her.

Maggie felt her body spasm, she couldn't hold back. It was all too much. She bit down on the gag as a fierce orgasm swept through her, her body arching as her sex closed tight around the dildo. Still gasping, still in the throws of her climax, the dildo was wrenched out and she moaned gratefully as a rigid penis slid slowly up into her vacant cunt. At the same time something smaller and slimmer was eased into her bottom, a finger slick with lubrication, and then retreated and a cock nudged up to take its place. Maggie sobbed deliriously as it embedded itself in her tight rear passage. Her mind protested but her rogue body seemed only too eager to cooperate. There was no way this was possible… no way…

The stranger screwing her arse eased his meaty erection slowly but determinedly further and further inside her. Maggie thought she would faint with pleasure and shame, writhing between the two naked men.

She sobbed pitifully, but her muffled protests were met with grunts and curses of pleasure as the two men began to find a mutual rhythm, driving in and out of their victim, sandwiched between them, tied, gagged and stretched open for them.

‘Want to swap places?' rumbled the man who'd spoken previously, and with that they both withdrew, shuffled around her, exchanged places, then eased back deep inside her and continued fucking.

Maggie slumped between them, wanting it to be over. She was raw with a heady mixture of pain and pleasure. The two men began moving more erratically, fucking her with ever more urgency. She heard one gasp, and despite her fatigue her head rolled back and she shuddered with a violent orgasm as she felt the hot release of semen deep, deep inside her cunt.

‘Oh fuck!' snorted the man behind her, feverishly kissing her neck and shoulder, pulling her back onto him as he thrust his cock fully up her arse, his sperm erupting deep. ‘Oh, that feels so fucking
good
,' he groaned coarsely, wearily.

Sandwiched between her captors, Maggie struggled to catch her breath while their panting bodies ground hot and sweaty against her. Gradually they both withdrew, leaving her shivering and empty, listening to the muffled whisperings of her two unseen lovers. Was lover the right word? Or was assailant more appropriate?

Firm hands unfastened the gag and Maggie stretched her jaw thankfully. Other hands released the nipple clamps.

But if she had hoped to be set free she was mistaken. After a few moments the voices receded and once again she hung in the restraints straining to hear any clues as to what would happen next.

Max Jordan was the last to leave the cellar. Although he hadn't taken part in any of the activities he could almost feel the tight grip of Maggie's sex closing around his cock, imagine the way her body felt as she writhed against the twin cocks that had impaled her. He smiled and climbed the stairs back up to the sitting room, wholly delighted with his latest acquisition.

‘Well, well, well,' said a familiar voice, breaking into Maggie's reverie, and she stiffened as Guido ran a hand over her aching breasts. ‘Quite a show you put on there,' he said. ‘And look at you now, you dirty little whore.' His finger traced the course of the semen trickling down her legs. ‘Look at you - something to be used and then discarded.'

He ran a finger up to her sex and then drew it across her lips. ‘I know what whores are for,' he went on, unfastening her arms so that she slumped to the floor on her hands and knees. He caught hold of her hair and Maggie shrieked in protest, but still fastened to the spreader-bar she couldn't get away from him.

She heard the zip on Guido's trousers and knew exactly what was coming next. She heard him crouching, and then from behind he drove his cock into her soaking sex, forcing it deep into her until she cried out. ‘Fuck me, you dirty little bitch,' he snorted, driving deeper still and jerking her back by her hair.

‘Even after the fucking those two just gave you, you're still nice and tight,' Guido sniggered. ‘Max was right about you; you really are a complete slut.'

An instant later Guido gasped, she felt him buck and then he jerked once, twice and came in a pulsing eruption, flooding her sex with his warm seed. He held on to her for support for a few moments, and then hauling her to her feet pulled off the blindfold. She blinked in the dim light of the cellar, but didn't make a sound as he unfastened her ankles, peeled the grimy basque off her and led her to a small shower area off the main cellar. He watched as she washed, eyes still bright with avarice and desire, and she tried not to catch his eye. Wasn't it enough that Max allowed him to use her as and when he wanted, or was there more?

Once she was dry, and completely naked except for her collar, Guido led her back upstairs. As they approached the sitting room Maggie heard voices from within and froze. One of them she knew was the voice from the cellar, but the other one sounded equally familiar.

‘What is it?' Guido goaded. ‘Don't tell me you're shy.' He opened the sitting room door and Maggie's worst fears were confirmed. Max was playing host, handing out drinks, an unknown man sitting in an armchair sipping one, and by the window, holding and empty crystal glass, she saw to her complete horror stood Mike, Kay's boyfriend!

Max smiled broadly. ‘Ah, excellent,' he said enthusiastically. ‘Maggie, Mike would like another scotch and soda. See to it, please.'

Feeling utterly shell-shocked Maggie did as he ordered, and as she handed Mike his drink he smiled smugly at her.

‘You see, Maggie,' he said, ‘I told you I knew someone you'd like to meet.'

From across the room Max interrupted the tense silence that followed Mike's arrogant boast. ‘Come here, Maggie,' he said, and indicated the floor beside him, and totally humiliated she did exactly as she was told and knelt at his feet. ‘On all fours, I think,' he added. ‘We want to see your marks.'

After a perfunctory examination Max nodded and indicated she should stand. The men, it seemed, had some business to conduct. Maggie served them more drinks and snacks as and when required, all the time aware of their eyes on her body. And when she wasn't needed she knelt at Max's feet, the epitome of submission, although all the while her mind was racing.

Max, when engrossed in discussions, toyed idly with her, and it seemed there was no part of her and no time when she was not his property. As the afternoon headed into evening Max suggested they retire to the dining room for dinner.

At the door he kissed her on the lips. ‘Well done,' he said, and the two simple words made her heart leap. ‘I want you help serve my guests their meal,' he added. ‘And then you can go to your room and eat. I'll have Mrs Griffin bring a tray of something up for you.' His expression suddenly hardened. ‘And when you've eaten you will go and kneel by my bed until I come up.'

‘Yes, master,' she yielded meekly, and realised that for the first time she truly meant the words, that in all senses Max Jordan truly was her master.

Chapter Eight

Sitting at her desk in the office of the magazine where she worked, staring at the computer screen, Maggie struggled to make sense of the articles she had been working on the week before. It felt as if the words and thoughts came from a different life, written by a different person. In fact, it felt almost as if she had woken up inside a dream.

‘Maggie?' She looked up without really thinking to find Simon standing beside her desk. Couldn't the bloody man take a hint? But before she could say anything he smiled at her crookedly, giving her an odd sense of déjà vu - hadn't this been the moment that had driven her to seek out Max Jordan?

‘I just came over to say that I think I owe you an apology,' he said, surprising her with his unexpected display of contrition. ‘I shouldn't have told the world and his wife that you were coming out for dinner with me last week. It was tactless of me, and… well, lunging at you wasn't the most gentlemanly thing I could have done either.' He paused thoughtfully. ‘The thing is, I value your friendship, Maggie, and even if you're not interested in me in a romantic way, which I do understand, I'd hate to lose you as a friend.'

Maggie managed to put on a smile. It was a very big thing for him to say, under the circumstances. ‘It's all right, Simon,' she said graciously. ‘And thank you.'

‘There's just one more thing…' he went on, and Maggie sighed, knowing there had to be something else to it. ‘I wondered if you could do me a favour.'

‘A favour?'

He nodded.

‘What sort of a favour, Simon?'

‘Would you come out to dinner with me tonight?'

Maggie laughed. She had to admire the cheek of the man. ‘That isn't a favour, that's a date.'

‘No, no it's not, honestly,' he insisted defensively. ‘The thing is, my department is entertaining some very influential clients this evening. I've already roped in three or four of the staff, but to be honest I could do with all the help I can get.' He paused and tried out his pretty feeble little boy lost expression on her. ‘I really could do with your help, Maggie. I really could.'

She studied his eyes closely, and then smiled. She still felt a little guilty about the dinner date at the
Neptune
, and came to a decision. ‘All right,' she said after a few seconds, ‘just as long as you understand that it's not a date, okay?'

Simon grinned, looking mightily relieved - or pleased with himself. ‘Okay,' he beamed, and just then a courier approached Maggie's desk carrying a huge bouquet of snow-white Arum lilies.

‘Maggie Howard?' he asked, correctly addressing her. ‘These are for you.' And she accepted them, somewhat taken aback. They were astonishingly beautiful, if slightly macabre.

Simon looked at her and then at the flowers. ‘Someone die?' he blurted with his usual lack of tact.

Maggie opened the card and read the words inside. ‘A little something to mark the end of your old life and beginning of the new. Check your email. The master.' She felt her cheeks blush. ‘You could say that,' she said to Simon. ‘Just someone's idea of a joke, that's all.' Hastily she tucked the card into her bag.

‘We'll go straight from work, then,' Simon said.

‘I'm sorry?'

‘To dinner,' he qualified. ‘I've booked an early reservation at
Fernando's
; our clients have got a long way to travel home.'

Maggie groaned. ‘I'll have to nip out at lunchtime and get something to wear,' she told him, wishing she'd never agreed to help him out.

‘Why?' he asked cheesily. ‘You look great as you are.'

Maggie looked down at her faded jeans and black silk blouse. She had complied with Max's edict about wearing no underwear, but he had kind of fudged the rules; after all, he hadn't said anything about trousers or generous fitting blouses so that no one would notice. ‘Only a man would say that,' she said scornfully.

Simon shrugged. ‘About half-six, then?' he confirmed, and Maggie nodded. No point in trying to backtrack now.

As soon as he was gone she logged on to the Internet, and as she waited for her email to appear she pondered the prospect of dinner with Simon. She didn't really want to go out with him again, but it would probably mean she at least missed seeing Kay, and the inevitable embarrassment that encounter would bring.

Maggie shivered, thinking about Mike and the events of the weekend as her master's address appeared on one of the incoming emails. It had occurred to her that Kay almost certainly didn't know about Mike and his clandestine activities. Maybe she thought he kept his sadist streak just for her. How could she possibly face her lodger and friend ever again, knowing what she now knew?

Maggie opened Max's email. All there was, typed centre page, was an address in a nearby town - no date, no time, just the address and a set of instructions on how to dress. Short skirt, blouse, hold-up stockings, no underwear. Maggie smiled; it was almost the kind of outfit she could wear to dinner with Simon if she chose something subtle.

She stared at the screen, unsure whether to email or ring to ask Max for further instructions. Her instincts told her it was a test. She glanced at the lilies and decided to wait. A man who knew she was at the office rather than at home left nothing to chance. She'd have the information she needed as and when he decided she should.

‘Maggie?' She instantly recognised Max's voice on the mobile, and trembled slightly. The last thing she'd expected was for the phone he'd given her to ring while she was out with Simon's clients.

‘Be at the address I sent you at eight tonight,' he told her. ‘You have your instructions; you know what to wear.'

Across the room a waiter served wine and fruit juice to Simon's corporate guests.

‘I - I'm sorry, I'm busy at the moment…' she blustered. ‘I'm helping at a business dinner with Simon from accounts.'

‘Really?' He didn't sound amused. ‘Well get out of it. Unless, of course, you want to displease me? Or is this disobedience? Do you want to be punished?'

‘No, master…' she said urgently, her pulse quickening.

‘Good, in that case I will see you at eight. I want your help with the training of another slave. I'll be expecting you, the door will be unlocked, come straight in. And try to remember all you've been taught, Maggie. Don't disappoint me…' His voice was low and even, and before Maggie had the chance to reply he hung up.

Just then Simon beckoned her over, and she really didn't know what to do for the best. ‘This place is great for a function room, isn't it?' he said, looking tense, clearly keen to make a good impression on his clients. ‘And the food is superb.'

She nodded. ‘It's very nice, Simon,' she agreed, ‘but I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you to it; something's come up.'

He stared at her, looking agitated. ‘Leave?' he whispered furiously. ‘But why? We've only just got here. I thought you said you'd help me out.' She could see he was angry, and justifiably so.

‘I'm really sorry, Simon,' she said, thinking on her feet. ‘But I've just had a call from an interview I've been chasing for weeks. They're only in the country for a few days but the PR guy says they can see me tonight - another magazine has been bumped off the A list. I'm so sorry.'

Simon didn't look very convinced. ‘So who is this mystery celebrity, then?' he challenged.

‘Look, I really can't talk about it,' she fudged. ‘I've just got to go. I'm sorry.'

He sighed. ‘Okay, if you must.'

Maggie smiled, the knot in her stomach easing. ‘I owe you one,' she said, and with the first hurdle out of the way she slipped into the cloakroom and took off the white lacy knickers and bra she'd bought at lunchtime, and looked at herself in the mirror. It wouldn't take long to get ready. A little more make-up and a button or two more undone on her new white blouse, a little more perfume and she was ready. She smiled at her reflection, aware of the way the outline of her nipples showed through the thin fabric.

‘Wow,' said Simon as she reappeared. ‘You look great. I hope this mystery celeb is worth it.'

Maggie reddened. ‘Were you waiting for me?' she asked.

‘I just came to ask if you'd like me to drive you to the interview?' he said. ‘After all, your car is back at the office.'

Maggie shook her head. ‘No, it's all right,' she declined the offer, ‘I've arranged for a taxi. And besides, this is your bash, you're the host, Simon, you can hardly leave.'

Ten minutes later, settled in the back of a cab, she wondered what Max meant about helping him out with another slave. Did he mean Beau, perhaps, or someone else? As she allowed her imagination to run riot she felt a familiar stirring deep in the pit of her tummy, a hot tendril of arousal surging up through her like a lightening bolt. She made a point of keeping her eyes lowered in case the driver could see the desire sparkling in them.

Shortly before eight the taxi drew up outside the address Max had given her. As she climbed out into the anonymous suburban street the evening air touched her nakedness beneath the short skirt.

The taxi driver seemed to sense her apprehension. ‘You going to be all right on your own here, love?' he asked as Maggie paid him.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, holding her coat tight, certain that somehow he knew that beneath it she was dressed for Max Jordan, as he had decreed she should be.

She shivered, watching the taillights of the taxi disappear around the corner, letting the sense of excitement and isolation thrill her. She drew a calming breathed, amazed at the change that had come over her since Max's phone call.

The house he'd directed her to was a modern suburban villa on an executive estate, hidden away behind neatly trimmed shrubs and an expanse of manicured lawn. Maggie made her way up the drive, aware of her high heels crunching on the gravel.

The house was quiet as she let herself in through the front door. The hall was tastefully furnished but at the same time oddly featureless, as if styled from the pages of a Sunday magazine. Maggie hesitated, wondering what to do next, when she heard a familiar voice.

‘Up here,' Max called.

She slipped off her coat and checked her appearance in the hall mirror, tucking the white blouse tighter into her skirt, pulling the thin fabric taut over her breasts so her nipples showed through. She climbed the stairs tentatively. There was only one door open on the landing, light spilling from it. Taking a deep breath she slipped into the bedroom, and gasped. In the luxuriously furnished room was a naked woman, tied facedown on the bed, a pillow under her hips, her raised buttocks crisscrossed with blotchy welts. Maggie stared, there was something terribly familiar about her, and then she realised with horror it was her lodger, Kay!

Her face was turned to one side, her long blonde hair fanned out across the white pillows, a black blindfold covering her eyes. She was breathing hard.

Max Jordan stood to one side of the bed, fully dressed, a black leather riding-crop held loosely at his side.

‘Come over here,' he ordered, and as Maggie got close he grabbed her hair and pulled her to him with a brutal ferocity and gave her a crushing kiss. Maggie gasped, she could feel the heat in him and his animal arousal induced by the whipping he'd given Kay. He pressed his fingers between her legs, under her skirt, his fingers demanding entry, prising into Maggie's already wet sex. She sighed with shameful pleasure.

He pulled away from the kiss, grabbed the front of her new blouse and ripped it open. There was no place for subtlety, and clenching his jaw he tore it away from her body completely, heedless of ruining her new garment.

Maggie cried out in shock, yet at the same time felt her body respond to the hungry assault. He leered and swooped to capture a nipple between his teeth, biting hard enough to make her cry out with pain. She began to writhe against him, astonished by her own hunger.

‘Please, master,' she begged, barely aware of her own words, ‘please fuck me.'

‘Oh, so keen already?' he said scornfully. ‘Not yet, my beautiful little slave, not yet. We have a long night ahead of us.' He turned her away from him. ‘Give me your hands.'

Maggie did as she was told, aware of the paradox of fear and desire, aware that only a short while earlier such a request would have had her screaming for help. She felt the cold bite of the handcuffs snapping shut around her wrists, and then the light receding as Max tied a blindfold over her eyes.

‘You look magnificent,' he said, hands on her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees. She heard the sound of his trouser zip being lowered, felt his hand as it cupped her chin, holding her head still, and then the feel of his smooth helmet demanding entry to her mouth. Maggie opened for him, at that moment wanting nothing more than to give her master total pleasure. Kneeling in an act of worship, relishing the feel, the smell and the taste of his cock as it slid over her lips, she sighed with pure pleasure.

‘Suck me,' he ordered, and then held himself still. She obeyed, moving her head and using her lips and tongue to please him.

‘That's it… that's very good,' he panted softly. ‘Good girl, that feels very good.'

Maggie moaned her reply as the taste of his growing excitement filled her mouth.

‘You know what you are, don't you?' he went on. ‘You're my dirty little whore, my little slave… my slut. What other kind of a girl would abandon her boyfriend at my call, and hurry across town to let her body be used by another man?' He began to thrust deeper into her mouth. ‘Mmmmm, yes… only a slut would let herself be used like this, on her knees, hands tied behind her back. Mmmmm, that's it, suck harder you dirty little cunt. What sort of girl are you, Maggie? Letting her mouth be fucked… and
wanting
it. You do want it, don't you, Maggie? Hmmm?' Max paused, pulling his cock almost out of her mouth.