Total pages in book: 189
Estimated words: 174749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Jesus fucking Christ. I gotta calm the fuck own.
I turn on the computer at my desk and scan through my emails. There’s nothing major going on in the world of sex today that’s interfering with my trying to divest out of this shit. I pull up the research on the Morozov family of companies that I had asked Gerard to do. That man is worth his fucking weight in gold. Not only did breaking up the company into chunks to sell give us who Luca Giannoni was working for, but it gives me a chance to dig a bit deeper and see just who I’m selling to.
But wait, it’s already noon. And that means Ashley’s waiting for me to call her.
Actually, let me fucking rephrase that. She’s waiting for "King Henry" to call her.
Whatever, don’t look at me right now like that, ok? Until I met her, I used to be a normal, well-adjusted asshole. Sure, I used to fuck women left and right, but I never fucking lied to them. But with her, I’m living a double fucking life.
“Hi this is Misty, who am I talking to?” she purrs into the phone and my heart skips a beat at hearing her voice all over again.
“It’s King Henry, Kitten,” I say with the affected gravelly voice. I’m not using the coat anymore, and despite the computer showing me that emails are arriving; my mind and concentration are completely focused on the line.
“I’ve been waiting for you, sir,” Ashley says with a purr.
“Have you now?” I say to her while my cock stiffens at her submissive tone. “I’m not sure I believe you Kitten.”
“It’s true, I came home just so I could take your call,” she insists.
“What are you wearing, Misty?” I ask, taking charge of the conversation. “Tell me.”
I lean back as Ashley starts to describe what she’s wearing. “I have on a purple lace thong with purple stockings and garters,” she says. “And a light purple matching lace bra.”
I close my eyes, imagining the beautiful Goddess who was with me just a few hours ago and how she’s lounging in sexy lingerie now to talk to me.
A part of my brain tells me this is wrong. This is fucking crazy. That I have plenty of work to do today.
Fuck, I even look toward the computer. There’s an urgent email that just came through from Gerard.
But the reptilian part of my brain tells me that Ashley wasn’t wearing any purple lingerie when she left here this morning. She must have changed. Or she’s making this whole thing up.
“Did you just put it on?” I ask into the phone. “Was that what you were wearing before? Be honest with me, Misty.”
There’s a pause on the line and I know she’s debating how far to go into this conversation. Because I’ve just blurred the edges of fantasy and reality now and if she plays along then she’s walking into fucking wonderland with me.
“I changed into this just for you,” she tells me slowly. “I put it on after I showered once I got home.”
“Did you come from somewhere else?” I ask. Fuck, don’t look at me okay. I don’t know why I’m asking this. I know perfectly well where she was.
There’s another pause.
“Yes,” she says on the phone.
“Yes, what?” I ask harshly.
“Yes, sir,” she corrects herself. Good, she’s listening.
“A man?” I ask with another question almost immediately.
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck. My cock is twitching in my pants for some reason. I glance at the computer at the email from Gerard. It reads simply: URGENT. MOZOROV IS PRESSING HARD FOR COMPLETE BUYOUT.
Whatever. I can’t give it the time it needs right now because my next question to Ashley is just, “Did you fuck him?”
She’s either going to hang up, or she’s going to go along with what I’m saying.
I decide to take it further and tell her, “I’m buying you right now, Misty. That means I own you. That means you do whatever I tell you to do. Tell me you understand.”
Another pause. Has she hung up? Has she put me on mute?
“I understand, sir,” comes her response. Her voice is soft. It’s not so sultry. It’s more real.
“Good,” I say, unbuckling my pants and pushing them down. “Now, tell me the truth. Did you fuck him?”
“Yes, sir,” she replies. “Yes, I fucked him.”
“Did you cum?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” I say, not sure why I’m getting off to this, but I’m unwilling to fucking stop. “Are you touching yourself now?”
Again, she responds without shame. “Yes, sir.”
“I want you to stop, Misty,” I say to her. I hear a whimper on the other end of the line. It sounds of disappointment. But I’m too far gone. My mind is in a haze of lust and it’s not controlling anything I say or do at this point. “Look south, towards downtown, Misty,” I tell her.