Her Personal Assistant Read online

  “Consider this a learning experience. Now, brace yourself. I'm sure you know what will happen if you try to close your legs.”

  She nodded and James spotted a tear flowing from her left eye. He swished the crop in the air a few times. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said in that small, little-girl voice.

  “You know what to do.” He slapped her medium-hard, right on her clit.

  Evelyn yelped and said, “One sir, I deserve another!”

  He smiled. He began to slap her pussy, moving up to the top of her mound and down to the labia, turning his elbow up when he needed to strike her straight on. The blows increased in intensity. Her pussy quickly grew pink, then red. After each blow, she squealed and counted out her cadence, her hips jerking and tears flowing. He knew she was cursing herself for lying to him about the number of strokes and she'd never do it again. Charles had warned him about that too.

  “You have to establish control quickly,” he had told him. “Or she might not accept you as my substitute. You must treat her as I would treat her—later you can add your own twists.”

  “Nineteen, sir! Please, I deserve another!” Evelyn was begging him with her eyes to go easy.

  And he did. The last blow was medium-hard, which she gratefully accepted.

  He put the crop down. “Now, what do you say?”

  “Oh, thank you, sir, for showing me the error of my ways!” Her words rushed together and her tears continued to flow down her cheeks.

  He blew on her sore pussy and she settled down, enjoying the attention. James could see her pussy weeping with need and pain. She was extremely turned on right now.

  “What would Charles do right now?”

  “Uh, he would make love to me, sir, or sometimes he'd make me masturbate.” She confessed quickly, not trying to hide anything from him. Good.

  “I don't think you deserve a fucking yet, do you?”

  “Uh, no sir.” She seemed torn about that and James knew why. Her body craved it, but her mind was still reeling from James’ sudden intrusion into her life.

  James reached back into the bottom drawer and pulled out a dildo. “Then why don't you put on a nice show for me?”

  As much as he wanted to fuck her, he had to humiliate her first to complete his takeover as the new Charles. Forcing her to masturbate while he watched would only heighten his power. And she would have to finish before Thomas returned. Thomas, James knew, had been with Charles ever since he had been a young man and now that Charles was gone, the old butler probably felt he was the new man of the house. He had to be convinced as much as Evelyn how things were going to be now.

  She took the dildo and leaned all the way back until she rested flat on the desk and began to rub the tip against her wet pussy, wincing whenever she strayed from her clit. Of course, her clit was probably pretty sore too, so it would probably take her a long time to climax. James eased back in his chair and watched, a slight smile on his lips. The sight before him was magnificent—Evelyn splayed out in her silly outfit, her knees nearly touching the desk, her pussy spasming as she worked the dildo in and out in a desperate effort to come.

  He couldn't stand it anymore and unzipped his pants and let his hard cock spring out. He gently rubbed it while he watched, wondering if he should go ahead and come or save himself for later. He looked up to see her staring at his firm member.

  “Oh!” Her orgasm seemed to be building within her, which James took as another good sign. He watched her hips jerk and he felt himself growing harder in his fist. “Oh!”

  She climbed up toward her climax and he tugged at his cock but did not come. It was hard not to. As her cries increased in intensity, her hips began to jerk in rhythm with his thrusts and soon she seemed to forget James was there. The dildo disappeared within her as she thrust it more violently inside her. Another clue about how she liked her sex, James thought.

  “OH MY GOD!” she cried suddenly and clamped her legs together over her hand that held the toy.

  He gave her a few minutes to calm down before he said, “Clean it off.”

  She put it into her mouth at once and licked it clean. Her pussy seemed red and swollen and was still very wet. He took the dildo from her and put it and the riding crop back into the drawer. She pushed herself upright and watched him, waiting for instructions. Her eyes kept flicking to his unzipped pants.

  James let her see his cock, like a rude visitor, for a few more seconds before he zipped up. It wasn't easy. He wanted nothing more than to make her suck him off or fuck her, but that would take a little more time. His cock softened slightly in disappointment.

  “Very good. Stand up, let me see this outfit up close now.”

  She stood, moving slightly from one hip to the other, offering her simpering French maid persona to him. James noticed how her juices shone on her upper thighs and her pussy was barely out of view. If she bent over, say, to dust, he would see everything.

  “Do you have a duster?”

  She nodded. “In the bottom left-hand drawer.”

  He opened it and pulled it out. It was an old-fashioned feather duster. He handed it to her and she went around the room, dusting, making sure to bend over and show him her bottom often, as no doubt Charles had made her do. It was enough to make him hard again.

  “Come here.”

  She returned and he took the duster from her and put it away.

  “How many times did Charles fuck you before he got sick?”

  “Th-that's pretty personal!”

  James pulled up her dress and gave her sore pussy a quick slap.

  She gasped. “Uh, maybe once a week.”

  Typical, James thought. The guy was getting old, after all. He'd been sixty-four when he died. So he had played little sex games to get himself in the mood for his one shot of the week. Once it got sick, his lovemaking would've dropped off even more.

  He pulled his hand away. “Was that enough sex for you?”

  She hesitated and James bent down and opened up the right-hand drawer again.

  “No,” she said quickly. “It wasn't. But I loved him, so it was okay.”

  He closed the drawer. “Did you take any lovers, either with or without his approval?”

  Evelyn looked shocked. “NO! I would never to that! Charles didn't like that.”

  He nodded. Okay, so Charles wasn't into sharing. Fine with him. But sometimes, a woman can only truly experience her submission if she is forced to have sex with someone her Dom tells her to. It was a technique he had used before. He decided to keep it in his back pocket for now.

  As silly as he thought the French maid outfit was, he knew he had to tread carefully around it. If he mocked it, that would change her attitude toward him. But he had no desire to see her dusting the furniture in it. He wondered if she did that when Thomas was around.

  “Did Charles make you dust in front of Thomas?”

  She shook her head. “No. Only when he was off, which was Tuesdays, or when he was out running an errand.”

  “How old is he, anyway?”

  “Seventy-five, I think.”

  “Do you plan to keep him on the payroll?”

  “Of course! I could never fire Thomas.”

  James nodded. He didn't really want the creepy old guy around, but he wasn't going to rock the boat. Maybe he could bring him over to his side.

  “What about a maid—do you have one? I mean, besides you.” He gave her a wry smile.

  “Well, we have a service, comes in once a week, on Fridays. Charles didn't like a lot of people around.”

  “Good.”

  He thought about where to go from there. He felt good about events so far, but he wasn't Charles and Evelyn was keenly aware of it. He would have to move slowly and show her he really was there to protect her and not exploit her.

  “Sir?”

  He shook himself out of his thoughts. “Yes?”

  “What are your intentions? Are you going to ... uh, move in here?”

&nb
sp; “Maybe. Only if you want me to be your personal assistant. Charles made it very clear that he wanted you to make that decision.” And once she did, it would be her last one. “Until you do, I have a place in town and I can come by every day to check on you.”

  “Check on me?” She wondered if that meant, spank her, fuck her, dress her up?

  “Yes. I think we need to get to know each other better, don't you?”

  She nodded and bit her lip, no doubt thinking he already knew her intimately. “What if I ...uh, decide I don't want you to be my personal assistant?”

  “Then I'll leave you forever. But Charles was worried about who might step in. You have controlling interest in the company now and some sharp businessman might try to seduce you in order to gain an advantage, you see.”

  “Why didn't he tell me he was doing this?”

  It was an excellent question. “He believed you would reject me out of hand if I was presented to you in that way. He wanted you to get to know me after he had gone, when you might be more receptive.”

  She nodded. “I'll think about it.”

  “That's all I can ask.” He heard the noise of approaching cars coming up the driveway. He stepped to the window and watched as Thomas drove up in the black Lincoln, a blue Mercedes right behind. They drove into the four-car garage. James turned to Evelyn.

  “You'd better go change. I'll leave you to explain to the butler and the chauffeur what my role will be. If you like, you can tell them Charles hired me temporarily to look after your affairs.”

  Evelyn seemed to accept that explanation. “Okay.”

  He came forward and held her upper arms and looked deep into her eyes. “I know all this is sudden. But you should know that Charles only wanted what was best for you.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He let her go and she ran upstairs to change. When James looked around, he noticed the shaving cream, razor and towel were still on the desktop. He quickly put them away before he left. On his way out, he passed Thomas coming in. The man frowned.

  “Is everything all right, sir?” he asked, and James knew he meant, Is everything all right with the misses?

  “Yes, everything is fine, Thomas.” He left without another word.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  He showed up the next day at ten and Thomas let him in. He pursed his lips in distaste and he said, “Yes, Mrs. Rothschild said you would be returning. May I ask what your intentions are, sir?”

  James ignored the question. “Can you tell me where I might find Evelyn?”

  The old butler sputtered. “Really, sir, I must express my concern over Mrs.— “

  He raised a hand, cutting him off. “Didn't she explain? Charles asked me personally to check on Evelyn, all right?”

  Thomas nodded doubtfully. “Yes, that's what she said, but...” He seemed to realize he had overstepped his bounds. “Very well, sir. If you will follow me.” He led James to a sunroom at the back of the house where Evelyn was sitting on a chaise lounge, wearing a silk robe, a cup of coffee by her side.

  “Ma'am, James Preston to see you again.”

  “Oh, yes!” She looked up, startled, a flush creeping up from her neck. “Uh, that will be all, Thomas.”

  “Very well, ma'am.” He retreated.

  James watched him go and knew he was very protective of Evelyn. Surely he must've known what had gone on between Charles and his trophy wife. No doubt he suspected that James was another Dom and felt helpless to stop the takeover of his mistress.

  “Hello, Evelyn,” he said, bending down to take her hand and kiss it.

  “Uh, hello. Would you like some coffee?” She indicated the silver carafe.

  James nodded and she poured him a second cup. He noted that she had a clean one ready, in case he showed up. Nice.

  She handed him the cup and he sat at a small wicker chair across from her. “Now, about yesterday...” she began.

  James cut her off—it wouldn't do to let her gain the upper hand. “Let's skip the denials, shall we? Charles and I had long talks about you. He told me just about everything.”

  Her face went pale except for two red splotches on her cheekbones. “But why...”

  “He did it because he loved you. And he knew how hard it would be when he was gone, even though you had more than a year to get ready for it. He recognized in me a similar type of man. I'm not here to replace Charles, you understand—no one can do that. I'm here to help you get through the next few months. If you find another good man like Charles, I'll fade away,” he added, thinking: fat chance.

  “My husband said you would be my ‘personal assistant.’ Did he mean...?”

  “Yes. Someone who fulfills that yawning need in you. He said it would help you cope. Was he wrong?”

  Evelyn bit her lip. “Uh... I don't know. I'm just not sure...”

  “About me?”

  “Yes. It's all rather sudden, you understand.”

  He nodded. “Did you shave this morning?”

  She gasped and straightened up in her chair. “That's none of your business!”

  He reached forward and flipped the lower edges of the robe away. She was naked underneath. She tried to grab the edges of the robe and pull them together but his hand had already slipped in and touched her smooth mound.

  He smiled. “So you did shave.”

  She tried to push his hand away but he didn't move it and soon she gave up. He kept rubbing his fingers over her smooth mound until she said, “Yes,” softly.

  He pulled his hand away and picked up his cup and took a sip. “Good. Charles would be pleased.” What he was really saying, of course, was: I am pleased.

  Her hand shook when she raised her cup to her lips. She eyed him warily. “Are you, uh, going to do everything Charles did?” Unspoken was the question: Are you going to make love to me?

  James nodded. “But only if you want me to be your personal assistant. Charles wanted you to be asked. He said you'd understand why.”

  Evelyn nodded. “Yes, I think I do.” She paused and took another sip. “What does a personal assistant do, anyway—I mean, in your opinion?”

  “He helps you prepare for your day. He handles those annoying chores that you might find distasteful or boring and he insulates you from the greedy bastards who want your money or Charles’ business. He was very insistent about those last points.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. Charles had told James she liked being protected from the outside world. In the two weeks since he had died, she must've had to deal with a million details and probably felt, right about now, that having someone to handle those chores sounded pretty darn good.

  “When you say, ‘prepare me for my day'— what do you mean, exactly?”

  Charles had always done this for Evelyn before, helping her with the intimate details of her morning routine and selecting her outfits. James knew she was asking him if he expected to take over those duties and how that might work. She wasn't quite ready to give herself over to this near-stranger, even if her husband had apparently recommended him.

  “I would be respectful of your personal space,” he told her. “I merely want to help you with those annoying little details that Charles took care of. I am not your lover—Charles was. I would not presume to fill that role.” Yet, he thought. “I am here to smooth your way during this difficult period.”

  “But you were ... rather disrespectful of my personal space yesterday, don't you think?”

  “I felt it was important so you could see just who I was and why your husband chose me. It wasn't disrespectful to your husband's memory, was it, knowing his wishes?”

  “No, I suppose it wasn't.”

  “That is why I'm here. Consider me your husband's surrogate, if you will. A pale imitation, to be sure, but it was his last wish that the woman he loved so much be protected, that's all.”

  “And how would you protect me in business matters?”

  James knew this was
a key point. Charles had realized she might have difficulty making certain decisions because she had not been privy to all the details.

  “Charles made sure to bring me in when he was making critical decisions so that I would know his thinking in such matters. He did not want to bother you with it during his last difficult months. So you could think of me as his voice, giving you advice on what Charles may have wanted. It might help you keep the bastards from gutting his company.”

  She took in a long breath. “Very well. Since my husband seemed to think you would be helpful, I'll allow you to be my personal assistant on a trial basis. Say, one week?”

  He nodded. “I'm sure you'll be pleased.”

  This was a dangerous time. He had to make sure she didn't start thinking of him as just another house servant, to do her bidding. He had to establish control, just as he did yesterday.

  “Very well, then. Let's go upstairs and get you dressed, shall we?” He stood up and helped her to her feet.

  “But I haven't finished my coffee!”

  “Bring it with you. It's already after ten—don't you have a board meeting today?”

  “Uh, I'm supposed to attend a board meeting at two, but only if I'm up for it, they said. I may not go.”

  “Nonsense. They might be plotting something behind your back. Charles would want you to go.”

  She took her cup with her and led him into the main house.

  Thomas was hovering in the living room and he seemed alarmed. “Everything all right, ma'am?”

  “Yes, Thomas, I'm fine. I'm, uh, hiring James here to be my personal assistant for a little while. He will be helping me deal with some business matters.”

  Thomas gave a little bow, but his body language said he did not approve. “Very well, ma'am.”

  She handed Thomas her empty cup. As they went up the stairs, Evelyn turned to him. “We did not discuss salary...”

  James waved a hand. “Charles took care of that... before...”

  “Oh!”

  He knew that would only reinforce his position as her husband's substitute. She led him down the hallway to the master bedroom and through the double doors. The room was huge, with windows overlooking the garden. A large, four-poster bed dominated the room, and there were three dressers along the walls. James could see doors leading to the master bath and closets. He resisted the urge to whistle.