Sadie
The deal went even better than I would have expected; Jack called me the next morning before I even got into the office to tell me how thrilled his new client was to sign on, and I got a text message from Micah letting me know that Lisa had made enough the night before with the high-dollar client I’d provided to wipe out almost half of Chris’ debt in one go. Nate confirmed arrangements with me during lunch to hook up one of his own prospects with one of my “acquaintances” and I started thinking about the logistics of how many of Micah’s girls I might end up needing to keep things up.
Within a week and a half, I’d helped three of Micah’s girls make enough to totally take Chris off the shit list. Of course, he couldn’t work for Micah anymore, but there wasn’t a price on his head anymore, and there wasn’t anyone who would come after him. I should probably have backed off then—I could have just passed Nate and Jack off to Micah, told them how to arrange things directly—but I loved it. I loved having the little secret in the office, and the knowledge that I was making a few hundred for each one on my own, that I’d end the year at least a couple of thousand dollars better off than I had ended the previous year, was even better.
“You’re making a habit of this,” Micah said one Thursday evening, about two and a half weeks after I’d started on the new project for him, when I came into his office. I’d taught about four of his girls—Lisa, Jamie, Kelsey, and Hannah—how to shop, dress, and do their makeup for their new clientele, so I didn’t really have the excuse of checking in on them before they went on their new-and-improved calls. But every time I went to see Micah, to talk about arrangements or to make a new date for one of his girls, I somehow ended up having the hottest sex with the boss himself.
“Why stop when it’s working so well?” I sat down in the chair that I’d always taken whenever I visited his office and grinned at him. I didn’t even feel the slightest bit of fear around the big, bad mobster anymore; my whole body heated up just at the idea of being alone with him, of what everything would eventually end up culminating in. I never breathed a word of it to Chris, but every time Micah took me—no matter how he did it—I loved it more and more. So much so that as soon as I stepped into Micah’s office I was already wet, my nipples hardening against the fabric of my bra, my whole body craving the feeling of being taken.
I’d given up on even feeling shame about it; the time I’d come to Micah to check in after the first successful session with Lisa, Micah had ripped my panties off of my body and pulled me down onto his hard cock, pulling my blouse down so he could watch my breasts shake as I rode him. The next time we’d met, I hadn’t even bothered with panties; he’d pulled up my skirt, pushed me face-down in my chair and pounded me from behind, making me tell him over and over again how much I loved his cock inside me, that I was his, that my pussy belonged to him alone.
“So I guess the fact that your big brother is a free agent once more doesn’t mean you’re going to go back to being respectable?” I shook my head.
“I’m getting way too much out of this,” I told Micah. He laughed and pointed to his crotch. “That too,” I admitted. I could feel the tightness between my hips; every time I saw him again, I felt completely and totally alive, full of the most exciting questions: what was it going to be—was he going to push me down onto my knees and make me beg to taste him? Was he going to finger me until I was whimpering with the need to feel his cock? Was he going to teasingly threaten to take me to a piercer he knew while he played with my breasts, tweaking and torturing my nipples, murmuring that he was going to buy gold hoops to mark my tits as his?
“I’m starting to think you’re here as much for me to fuck your tight little body as you are to keep business going,” Micah said, his voice lowering. “Greedy little slut.” I shrugged.
“You don’t seem to mind,” I countered.
“Come over here,” Micah said firmly. I rose to my feet and walked around the desk, tingling all over. At a gesture from him I lifted myself onto the desk in front of him and he reached up my skirt, not even hesitating; he began touching me, nothing in his way. “I should visit you at work sometime,” Micah suggested. “Get you in a supply closet somewhere and make you scream about how you’re mine where everyone can hear you.” The threat in that—even if I knew he probably wouldn’t in a million years try it—made me even wetter, even hotter. I knew, after almost a month under Micah’s thumb, that he loved to test my limits, to push me up against my most basic sensibilities and pride.
I moaned as his fingers slid in and out of me, his thumb rubbing roughly against my clit. “E-everyone... important... already knows,” I told him between little panting gasps for breath.
“Not your coworkers,” Micah pointed out, working me harder, faster. “Not your bosses. I think I’d like to see the look on your face…” He leaned in and bit the place where my neck and shoulder met, brought his mouth up to my ear. “I’d love to see the look on your face if I fucked you right in front of your boss, your tits hanging out of your dress, bent over like the cheapest whore I own.” I shivered, picturing it—feeling the little twinge of humiliation like I knew Micah wanted. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me no, would you little Sadie?” I shook my head. “And why is that?”
“Be—because I’m yours,” I told him. “Because I’m your personal little slut.” He pulled my skirt up until it bunched around my waist and shoved me down onto my back onto his desk, barely keeping from ripping the buttons off of my blouse as he got it open to get to my breasts.
Every week—at least twice a week—I found myself in Micah’s office, telling him about the next few sessions I’d arranged, discussing details of payment rates, talking shop...and then, being brutally, mercilessly fucked until I came so hard it was almost hard to believe. Micah was right—I would let him do whatever he wanted to me, he felt so good. The fact that I knew he wouldn’t push things to the point where he’d jeopardize his business didn’t matter. I loved the way he sometimes pressed his fingertips to my tight pucker while he pounded into me from behind, the way he told me that if he wanted to take my ass itself he knew I would let him—and come for him on command. I’d thought, once, that he might actually do it then and there; he’d taunted me that he was going to call Brody in, tell the man to get some lube from one of the girls, and do it, before relenting and finishing buried deep inside my pussy.
More than once, Micah told me about how he wanted to take me back to his place, to really show me how much I belonged to him—that he’d keep me there for a weekend, make me take him as many times as he wanted, until I was so completely fucked that I would never even question who I belonged to. The idea of it made me shiver, and I had to admit—privately, deep down in my mind—that some of that shivering was from delight. I couldn’t deny the fact that if Micah had invited me to his place—or ordered me there—I wouldn’t hesitate to go. I would have let him tie me up, and let him take me, and given myself up to him completely and totally.
It was like something magnetic; I couldn’t keep away from Micah’s office, I couldn’t make myself not think about how incredibly hot it would be to let him have me again, to give myself to him. I knew it was crazy, and I knew I was playing with fire, but it felt so good—so right to belong to Micah sexually that I almost would have kept it up, or tried, even if things weren’t working with his girls and the bank’s clients.
“Lisa told me what that client of Jack’s wanted,” Micah told me, kissing me hard before biting my bottom lip harder, rubbing my clit while he pounded into me.
“O-oh?” I grabbed at his shoulders, pushing my hips down to meet him.
“He made her put on a schoolgirl uniform,” Micah said, slowing down just enough—I knew after a few times—to be able to keep going for as long as he wanted. “He spanked her with a belt until she cried, and then fucked her mouth and her pussy and then her ass.” I shuddered, thrilled and appalled all at the same time. “Gave me a few ideas.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. Micah laughed, and dipped down to my breasts to claim them with his mouth, harsh enough to make me cry out.
“You’d do it if I told you,” Micah said. “You’d walk right in here, let me spank you like a naughty little schoolgirl, and let me take you however many times I wanted, however hard I wanted, wherever I wanted.” I shook my head again. “You would.”
“Hope he pay-pay-paid extra,” I said, gasping as Micah began to speed up again.
“For the spanking,” Micah agreed with a nod. “But the rest was in the rate.” I laughed, breathless. “Fuck, Sadie—you’re every bit as fucking tight now as you were a month ago.” He pinned me down on the desk by my hip, by my shoulders, and I loved the feeling of it, being helpless and trapped under him. I loved the fact that he was still so big that when he thrust into me it felt like I couldn’t quite take him. It felt better than I would have ever guessed, even a month before, to feel Micah’s huge cock push deeper and deeper inside me, brutally filling me up, to have him pin me down almost painfully and make me tell him I belonged to him.
I went straight back to business as soon as we’d both finished, feeling the slithery, creepy feeling of Micah’s cum along my labia as I sat across the desk from him. “I think I’m going to have six jobs for you next week,” I told Micah, waiting for my heart to slow down.
“Good, good,” Micah said; anyone who walked into the office just then—apart from the telltale smell lingering in the air—would never have suspected we’d been having sex just moments before. “If you can get it up to eight, I can justify taking another two girls and putting them on the job.”
“I don’t know if it’ll get to that,” I cautioned him. “But I am starting to get little lines dropped to me from some other guys at the bank—people who’ve heard about how Jack and Nate and Paul have suddenly become so successful.” I shook my head, grinning to myself at the thought of the huge—unofficial—Christmas bonus I was going to get.
“Just let me know,” Micah said, adding a note or two to his records. “If you can swing it, I can definitely use the momentum.” The girls were making, I knew, easily a couple thousand a night that they were with the clients; that was more money than they made with their usual client haul, and Micah had mentioned cutting back on their other working nights—after all, he wanted his stars to be rested, ready, looking perfect for their high dollar clientele. We’d talked about the fact that he eventually wanted to switch over almost all of his girls, if possible, to what he jokingly called the “corporate beat.” I didn’t think that was necessarily realistic, but I thought we might be able to get to about half his roster of prostitutes.
We talked some more about possible ways to move forward and I actually felt sad leaving; not because I wanted more sex, but because I was starting to enjoy just talking business with Micah. I left his office to head home feeling physically satisfied, mentally invigorated, and eager to get into some pajamas, eat something delicious I didn’t have to share with my brother, and crawl into my own bed.