Finally Jansing sat back in his seat and stared straight ahead. Clarissa’s scent filled the car. Jansing was breathing deeply, like a steaming pot on the verge of boiling over.
“Get out,” the Congressman said, not even deigning to look back at her. “And get fucked – soon! Or I swear I will turn your life into a living hell.”
Chapter 10:
“So far you’ve had it relatively easy,” Nick Edge declared when Clarissa arrived for her training the following night.
He had made her strip down to her panties and bra in the foyer of the grand house, bundling her clothes into her handbag and then standing at attention while he inspected her.
He took his time, running his eyes over the perfect flawless shape of her, and the purity of her skin. He hooked a finger inside her bra cup and rubbed her nipple. Then he reached down inside her panties and drew his palm possessively across her pussy. Her body was soft and smooth. He stood back and clasped his hands behind his back.
Clarissa was secretly following him with her eyes even though she stood straight and unmoving. Edge nodded his approval.
“Spread your legs.”
Clarissa obeyed without thinking.
“Now pleasure yourself.”
“Master?”
“You heard me,” Edge growled. “Finger-fuck yourself.”
Clarissa frowned for just an instant, then dabbed at her lips with the pink tip of her tongue. She was already damp. She could sense the wet heat between her thighs. When she obediently pushed her hand down inside the waistband of her lace panties, her pussy seemed to anticipate her touch, and clenched involuntarily.
“Rub your clit.”
Clarissa obeyed, just teasing herself lightly. She knew it wouldn’t take much to carry herself to the brink of an orgasm and she wanted to forestall the possibility… though she doubted Edge would grant her the merciful relief of an orgasm anyhow.
Edge watched her covertly while he moved around the foyer. He seemed restless; agitated. There was a brusqueness to his voice that Clarissa hadn’t detected before.
“Are you wet?”
“Yes, Master.” Clarissa was nibbling on her lip with her teeth. Her fingers were slick. They dipped beyond the nub of her clit and brushed across the swelling lips of her pussy. She let out a little gasp of pleasure.
Edge waited until Clarissa’s eyes began to mist red with her lust and her knees bent just a little. Her body was beginning to respond to her own stimulation. He let her continue for a few more moments. By then, Clarissa’s nipples were hardening through the lace cup of her bra and her expression had become serious and introspective. It was as if her focus was shifting to her pleasure and her gaze began to turn inward towards fantasy.
“Stop.”
Clarissa stopped. She blew out a little breath. Her hand was still inside her panties, but now still.
Edge returned to his original train of thought. He could smell the intoxicating scent of Clarissa’s arousal.
“So far, you have pleasured strangers in a car, and you have helped Miki in a group situation… but you haven’t truly had your skills tested,” Edge began. “Nor have you had enough opportunities to develop the sexual techniques that are going to serve you once you submit to a man.”
Clarissa said nothing. Her pussy was tingling, and the temptation to secretly continue touching herself was maddening. She drew her hand slowly from her panties. Edge seemed not to notice.
“Master, I have done everything you have asked me to do,” Clarissa became earnest, sensing that Edge was being critical of her efforts.
“Yes,” Edge agreed.
“I’ve obeyed your every command.”
“Yes.”
Clarissa lapsed into silence. She felt a small tremor of anxiety. Edge let the stillness draw out. Finally he came to stand directly before her, their two bodies just inches apart. Clarissa had to stop herself from swaying against Edge’s chest. His body was like a magnet, drawing her to him.
“During tonight’s training, you will be representing me,” Edge warned, and Clarissa’s eyes turned dark and anxious. “Remember that. I will be with you, watching you. For that reason you must be wholly committed to your training. If you’re not, you will fail. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Master.” There was confusion and uncertainty in Clarissa’s eyes. Edge’s warning was wrapped in a mystery.
Where were they going?
“Very well,” he nodded. “Then follow me. We’re going for a drive.”
Clarissa reached for her handbag of clothes. Edge stopped her and shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight you get paraded in public wearing only what I allow you. Leave the bag and your clothes right here until you return.”
Clarissa went chill with fear and then her mind seemed to implode with the pressure of a thousand doubts, terrors and anxieties as they came crashing down upon her. She followed Edge, but her steps were halting and reluctant. He led her down the front steps and opened the passenger door of a car in the driveway. Clarissa slid into the passenger seat. She felt self-conscious in just her panties and bra. The last shreds of her lingering sexual arousal where whipped away by apprehension.
Edge slid smoothly behind the wheel and steered the car down the long driveway. The gates opened as he approached. He turned left, and accelerated into the dark night.
“Are you nervous?” Edge asked. The car was winding its way through Washington’s traffic. Clarissa sat small and silent in the passenger seat with her legs drawn up beneath her.
“Yes, Master,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“Because you’re taking me out in public, and I’m wearing just lingerie.”
Edge nodded. “Yes, but what you’re wearing is no different to what you would wear to a beach,” he said reasonably.
Clarissa shot him a pointed look. “Yes, but my bikini isn’t lace and sheer. And I don’t think you’re taking me to a beach. Master.”
Edge had to smile.
Clarissa’s fears were specific – not that she would reveal them to Edge. Being paraded around in public was not the real issue. In fact, the thought darkly aroused her. It was the location that bothered her. If Edge was taking her to some kind of party, she could relax. But what if he was taking her to some place where there were milling crowds of people with cameras? How would this moment affect her future political aspirations?
Clarissa shifted restlessly in her seat. The city flashed past her window.
Edge could see the apprehension in her face. He turned left again and then spoke without turning his head.
“I knew of a Master once – a mean bastard,” he started to speak, gently drawing Clarissa away from her dark fears by distracting her. “He had a submissive. She was a lovely young lady and very devoted to her passion.”
“You mean devoted to her Master?”
“No,” Edge shook his head and made the distinction. “This girl was passionate about submission. She was loyal to her Master because discipline demanded it of her. He could be very cruel to her, but she endured the punishments because she loved submitting so much. What happened to her that night changed her…”
The intriguing way that Edge left the story hanging was an impossible bait that Clarissa could not ignore. Her face betrayed her sudden curiosity.
“What do you mean? What happened?”
Edge waited until he completed another turn, and then picked up the trail of the story. Clarissa listened with rising disbelief.
“She was a one-man submissive,” Edge explained. “She wasn’t like you, Clarissa. She didn’t ever agree to have sex with any man other than her Master. She wasn’t turned on by pleasuring groups of strangers.”
“And he made her?”
“Yeah,” Edge said. They were driving on a long stretch of straight road. Streetlights flashed past as he drove. “The Master and his submissive had been to some party in the city, and on the way home the Master stopped to pick up a hitchhiker. A guy.??
?
Clarissa had a sense of what was to come but she stayed silent and listening.
“The guy got into the back seat with the Master’s submissive and the Master ordered the girl to suck the stranger’s cock.”
“And she didn’t want to?”
“No,” Edge said. “She didn’t. I know you would have no trouble with an order like that, but this young girl was different. She had been with this Master for a few months, and they’d gone over their hard limits. The guy was fucking other subs, but that never bothered the girl. She was into submission for her own reasons. She didn’t expect her Master to just fuck her… but she did expect that she would only have to fuck him.”
“What happened?” Clarissa’s face loomed out of the dark cockpit of the car, pale and ghostly.
“He ordered her to give the hitchhiker a blowjob while they were driving. The girl didn’t want to, but her discipline stifled her objections. She started to suck the stranger’s cock, but the Master wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t think she was performing well enough. So he threatened her.”
“With punishment?”
“Kind of,” Edge said. “Her Master told her that if she didn’t blow the guy and give him the best time of his life, he would put her out of the car on the street and leave her there to walk home.”
“No!”
“Yes,” Edge said. “They were in the middle of nowhere, and it was at night. Naturally the girl was pissed, but she was also frightened. She started to suck the hitchhiker’s cock again, but – like I said at the outset – the Master was a cruel bastard. He stopped the car.”
“And abandoned her in the middle of the night?” Clarissa’s tone became incredulous.
“No. Not immediately. He parked the car and undressed the girl. Then he bent her over the back seat and began to fuck her. After a few minutes he offered his submissive to the hitchhiker.”
“To fuck?”
“Yep.”
“What happened?”
“The girl was outraged, naturally. Submissives have rights. They’re people with their own limits and desires. This Master was stomping on every line the girl had said she wouldn’t cross.”
“Did the hitchhiker fuck her? Did she accept her Master’s order?”
“No,” Edge said. “So the Master and the hitchhiker got back in the car and left her naked by the side of the road, twenty miles from home.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m serious.”
Clarissa sat back in her seat and stared out numbly through the windshield.
“What happened to the girl?” Clarissa asked in small far-away voice.
“It was Anna Wilkinson,” Edge said.
The shock of the revelation hit Clarissa like a blow to the stomach. The air escaped her in a gasp. “Before you met her?”
“Yeah. She told me the story when we first set up our project with the street kids. She thought I ought to know that she was ‘damaged’.”
Clarissa said nothing for a long time. Edge was reflective in the silence. His thoughts were with Anna; wondering where she was and if she was safe, or even still alive. It took him a long time to crawl back out of the dark emotional hole he had tumbled in to.
“But I told you the story for another reason,” Edge said softly. He paused while he put the car into a final right-hand turn, and then began to slow towards the curb. “I wanted you to know absolutely that you have rights. You don’t have to blindly obey any man just because he calls himself a Master. There are checks and safety measures. One is being honest about your limits. The other is a safe-word – it’s a special word that will immediately stop whatever scene is happening. It’s your protection against bad choices and bad decisions. Do you understand?”
Clarissa nodded her head significantly. “Will I get a safe-word?”
“Yes,” Edge said firmly. “Right now, before we get out of the car. Your word is, ‘Beleth’.”
Clarissa repeated the word, inflecting the tone of her voice to turn it into a question.
“Beleth…? What does it mean?”
“It’s the name of an ancient demon of the underworld,” Edge said. “Beleth was one of the evil spirits conjured by King Solomon. He was a king of Hell.”
Clarissa looked frightened and confused. “Really?”
Edge shrugged. He didn’t have time to discuss the origin of the word, and stayed on point. “Your safe-word must be the kind of thing that you can only purposely utter. It has to be something you’re not likely to raise in the course of a scene or in conversation.” He smiled grimly. “You don’t summon the demons of Hell in your daily life, do you?”
“No,” Clarissa looked aghast. She repeated the word one more time to embed it into her memory, whispering it under her breath. Then she looked out through the windshield. They were parked in front of a strip of shops, most of them closed and shuttered for the night. Only one business still seemed open. The entry door to the premises was surrounded by bright garish neon lights.
It was an adult sex shop.
Clarissa felt a wave of relief wash over her. She turned in her seat and saw that Edge was watching her carefully.
“I know that a public challenge worried you,” Edge said. “I saw it in your face back at the house. I don’t know why specifically… and I don’t need to know. But if you want to use your safe-word to avoid what I have planned for tonight, then this is the moment.”
Clarissa smiled. She was grateful for Edge’s awareness and concern. She licked her lips and thought hard about the exact wording of her answer.
“Master… I don’t need to use the safe-word tonight,” she assured him with a suggestive, enthusiastic smile. “And I look forward to the chance to make you proud of me.”
Chapter 11:
The sex shop was clean inside with well-stocked shelves, and lots of color. The walls were painted red, and covered with racks of films and magazines. In a corner near the door was a glass-topped counter and cash register. There were signs everywhere to promote sex toys on special and the store’s policies. Behind the counter stood a man and a woman. The man was in his late thirties. The woman was ten years younger. The guy was a big burly shape in a t-shirt and jeans. He had the scruff of a new beard on his cheeks and jaw, and a mop of unruly black hair. He peered at Edge from over the rim of glasses perched at the end of his nose.
The woman was a pretty blonde; attractive in a forgettable way. She had short hair and a wide toothy smile. She was wearing a black t-shirt and cut-off shorts. She had long brown legs.
Edge led Clarissa to the counter. The big man who was behind the cash register shifted his eyes from Edge, and ran his gaze appreciatively over Clarissa’s body, taking his time – burning every curve into his memory.
“So this is her?” the man behind the counter asked.
Edge nodded.
The man sniffed and rubbed his stubbled chin like he was weighing up an important decision. “She looks good, man. What’s she like?”
Edge shrugged his shoulders, talking about Clarissa as if she were a luxury piece of machinery. “She has enthusiasm but lacks experience and skill. That’s why I brought her here, Jimmy.”
The big guy named Jim grunted, and nodded his head as if Clarissa’s faults were common. They might have been talking about a sports car.
“Does she swallow?”
“Yes.”
Jim grunted again and flicked a glance at the girl who was standing beside him. The girl seemed to sense that she would be included in the conversation. She was staring at Clarissa like she knew something secret.
“Margie, why don’t you take this one through the back door? Edge and I will be along in a few minutes. Set her up in the middle room while I get the sign.”
Margie – the blonde assistant – came from behind the glass counter and took Clarissa by the hand. Clarissa shot a quick look at Edge. He nodded. Clarissa followed the girl through a side door that was covered in glossy posters for pornographic mov
ies.
Big Jim reached down beneath the counter for a large wooden sign. It was like a sandwich board; two signs built onto a folding ‘A’ frame. He walked past Edge, out to the sidewalk, and set the sign up. When he came back into the store, he slapped Edge on the back and smiled.
“You want Margie to help her?”
Edge thought for a moment. “Sure,” he said. “It might be a good way to get things started.”
Big Jim clawed his fingers through the unruly tangle of his hair and then looked a sideways question at Edge. “Mind if I join the line?”
Edge shook his head. “Help yourself.”
The girl led Clarissa along a narrow dark passage. There were three doors, close together. The area reminded Clarissa of changing rooms in a clothing store… except the walls of the passage and the doors themselves were painted black. The girl pushed open the middle door and led Clarissa obediently inside. It was a small room, maybe six feet square. On the wall opposite was a large-screen television monitor. Playing on the television was a scene from a porn movie that featured two big-breasted girls giving a man sitting in a chair a blowjob.
Cut into each side wall at waist height was a circle about the same size as the mouth of a coffee mug. On the floor were stacked cushions of every size and color. It was dark in the room; the only light from the images of the people on the screen.
“Kneel down and get comfortable,” the girl named Margie said. She knelt like she was about to pray, with her hands resting in her lap. She was facing one side wall, staring into the dark empty void of the circle that had been cut into the wall.
Clarissa did as she was instructed. She faced the opposite wall. Through the hole before her she could sense vague shapes and movement.
Then the door to the booth they were waiting in creaked open and Nick Edge came into the cramped space. He looked down at where Clarissa was kneeling. She had her head turned, and her face lifted curiously to his.