EXTRACT FOR
His Latest Acquisition
(Lizbeth Dusseau)
Chapter One
A Tuesday night in April ... Three A.M.
Like a fluorescent glaring in an empty warehouse at the late night hour, Dylan Kincaid's computer screen burned the dark. Guild files only opened after one a.m., and the best flesh wasn't posted until after two. This night there was nothing new to see... but still good flix and pics of randy stripping off her suede suit, standing with feet wide on an Oriental carpet and fingers clasped behind her neck in the pose of inspection. Tawny skin, handsome but modest breasts with dark pert nipples rising to a hardened state of arousal. Felt between the thighs, she'd sport a wet pussy and clenching cleft. randy looked perfect collared. Thick, black leather suited her long neck and angular lines... Xena, Princess Warrior, he thought every time he viewed another advertisement for her sexual services.
Dylan was looking for a more sensuous slave.
gia, the buxom redhead from New Orleans had been in the files for several months... shopped around by owners looking for a sale not a loan. Dylan wasn't ready to buy??"but he wasn't interested in a loan either. Besides gia was not what he was looking for... he wanted sensuous, unique, naïve, perhaps... or soulful... and the mysterious woman in his imagination was not yet in this current catalog of available properties...
Powering down the computer, he went to bed.
Wednesday Afternoon .... Two P. M.
Justin Booker received his clients with a warmhearted grin and an extended hand.
"Good afternoon," he ushered the two men to chairs before his opulent desk. They were impressed by a view, six stories above the sidewalk and the city streets, looking out past high-rises and squalid neighborhoods toward the greening hills. Focusing their eyes back inside the office, they stared in wonder at the man behind the desk. Justin Booker was perfectly impeccable... as immaculate as his office, but without the coldness that these contemporary furnishings conveyed. He was a man of averages... height, weight, brown hair, with no peculiar features, and no flaws. Altogether, he cut a picture of handsomeness that would not stand out in a crowd, but that remained pleasing on its own. And while charm oozed through every smiling pore, he left the trained eye and the untrained heart to wonder if his unburdened grace clouded something treacherous beneath the perfect surface.
George Claravoy peered over his thin-rimmed glasses??"he was a man of the same inclinations as Justin Booker; just a little older, greying, with a gentle sag to his attractive face.
"The prospectus is exactly what we were looking for," he announced with an air of finality.
"Good," Justin replied confidently. He looked toward Earl Heartsell seeking the same confirmation.
Earl was a less gracious man??"a frowning burly sort with eyes that narrowed, a forehead that wrinkled in thought, and lips that rarely formed a smile. He nodded his approval rather than voicing an opinion. "There was that other matter," he finally added with his face lighting beyond its dour expression.
"Yes, of course," Justin replied, anxious himself to get on with the 'other matter'. He picked up the phone, buzzed his secretary, and after delivering his message, let the receiver fall back into the cradle with a gentle clatter.
George Claravoy looked obviously impatient, while Earl Heartsell remained as passive as before. And yet, when brit opened the office door both men looked her way, watching attentively as the raven-haired secretary walked toward her employer's desk. Her dark hair had been brushed into a neat bun, with a few stray wisps falling free to soften what was, on first impression, an austere demeanor. Her clothes were modest and appropriate for the office??"a plain grey suit with a shorter than average skirt and a thin but well-hidden pink blouse underneath her smartly-styled jacket. The only distinctive accessory to her subtle feminine statement was the three-quarter inch choker she wore around her neck. The silver band fit snug, was engraved with an intricate design, and closed so flawlessly that the clasp could not be detected without a close inspection.
For a second brit fingered the collar, then she took her place to Justin's left, with her hands clasped lightly in front of her. She gazed down??"on nothing in particular. With each successive second her prim manners eased until she was so meek it appeared as if she'd blow away with one simple puff of air. While her shoulders remained proudly posed, they relaxed; her eyes melted and the energy in her demure body thawed so that she breathed with another kind of life and exuded satisfaction and contentment. The transformation was effortless, as though she'd executed the metamorphosis many times. All three men were amazed??"including Justin who had seen it many times. He was the author of this submissive attitude and it made him proud, even surprised every time he experienced the beautiful sight.
"You keep her closely guarded," George decided as he admired the presentation.
"It helps to have her working as my secretary," Justin agreed.
"But no one knows her position?" Earl grumbled as his narrowed eyes inspected the woman.
"I'm a married man, gentlemen. I don't dabble in affairs. I have slaves. While most people would understand common infidelity few would understand the life I lead."
"How true," George agreed. "Your situation is unique, I think."
"It's what I've created. I hate dabbling in dungeons and at parties... this suits me much better." He made a thoughtful perusal of the quivering brit, seeing the normal signs of apprehension and excitement in her otherwise calm appearance. His erection made an impressive jolt, warming and enlarging as his thoughts took flight in fantasy.
"And what does your wife say?" Earl wondered.
"She doesn't know."
"About none of this?"
"No. And she won't."
"Have you suggested it to her?" George wondered.
"I felt her out," Justin smiled at the pun. "Early in our marriage, but there was not one inkling of interest in my alternative lifestyle... so I do this in secret." He smiled broadly. "Secrets make it all the more enticing for me. You aim to make your wife your slave?" he asked George??"a trace of biting sarcasm in the delivery.
"She knows my predilection."
"But not the facts."
"Sometimes we actually play with bondage," he admitted.
"But simple bondage isn't enough for me," Justin replied. "I don't play those games with the women I master??"I want to master them, own them, they are my property. Anything less feels false and unsatisfying."
"Well, I give you credit for creating this glorious creature." George could hardly take his eyes from the yielding woman.
"brit, remove your clothes for my friends," Justin ordered.