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From: dbetger@tiac.net (Donnie B.)
Subject: {A.S.S.} NEW! Owning Corey (A different sort of D/S story) Part 1 of 9
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Message from the author:
Please don't read this story. You're far too young and it's
got grown-up stuff in it. If you read it, you could get in
trouble, and so could I, and then I wouldn't be able to post
more stories for you not to read.
This work of fiction is the property of its author and may not be
used for profit without written permission. Otherwise, you may
reproduce and distribute it unmodified, or place it in an electronic
archive, if this notice is attached.
Owning Corey
Fiction Copyright (c) 1997 by Don Boettger
1.
The first time I met Corey I thought she was the most attractive
woman I'd ever seen. Five minutes later I wasn't so sure.
I was on a business trip, meeting with a potential new
distributor in the Southwest region. Jack Smith (right, it's a
phony name) wanted our product, and my boss wanted his business.
So I was in Phoenix being wined and dined. Jack brought along
his "girlfriend", as he introduced her. He called her Missy.
Later I'd find out that wasn't her real name.
Missy was the kind of woman who makes you understand the word
'covet'. She was fairly tall, slender, and wore her
honey-blonde hair in a sort of Prince Valiant cut. She was
young, probably mid-twenties, and dressed to the nines in a
tight black dress that plunged in front and soared to indecent
heights below. Her makeup was minimal, but she didn't need
more. She wore no jewelry except a simple gold choker necklace,
but those blue-green eyes were lovelier than any gems.
Still, moments after the introduction I began to wonder. I saw
those incredible eyes for all of half a second before she
dropped them. Shy, I thought. Then we were led to our table,
and Jack walked ahead of me, with Missy bringing up the rear.
Jack didn't seat her, so I did, and she seemed surprised and
somewhat embarrassed. Jack frowned at me, but said nothing.
The conversation was another surprise. There was no small talk,
no getting-acquainted. Jack acted as if Missy wasn't even
there. He dived into details of the business relationship, a
conversation I entered reluctantly. From time to time I glanced
over at Missy, but she seemed to be fascinated by the napkin in
front of her.
When the waiter came, Jack ordered for her. Just a salad, no
entree, no wine.
The whole meal went like that. Missy was about as much a part
of the conversation as the candle on the table. Once I tried to
draw her out, and it led to a truly odd exchange. As her salad
was delivered, I asked, "Are you a vegetarian, Missy?" She
glanced up at me in surprise, started to answer, then shut her
mouth and turned to Jack. He glared at her, frowning, then saw
me watching. He turned back to Missy and gave a little nod.
"No," she said in a near-whisper, and dropped her eyes. Her jaw
worked again, and I thought she might say more, but then she
just froze up.
This was more than shyness, obviously. I'd begun to come up
with theories. Maybe they were going through a rough time, on
the verge of breaking up. Maybe he was abusive. I could
believe that, from Jack's personality. He wasn't one to
compromise, or ignore any challenge, real or imagined. Or maybe
they'd had an argument earlier, and Missy just didn't want to be
there.
The rest of the evening was a bust. Jack dominated the
conversation, trying to sell himself and get his
distributorship. I was distracted and noncommittal. Missy was
silent. It was a mercy when the waiter returned Jack's card and
we got up to leave.
"Why don't we all go back to my place for a nightcap?" Jack
suggested.
My first reaction was to accept, but then I caught a glimpse of
Missy's face. She was horrified, and not hiding it at all. She
leaned over to Jack and whispered urgently in his ear. His face
spread into a smile, the first real smile I'd seen him give, but
I didn't like it. It was the sort of smile you'd see on a
little boy who was pulling the wings off a fly.
"I'm pretty tired, jet lag and all," I said, looking at Jack but
watching Missy's face out of the corner of my eye. Those words
transformed her. She looked like a saint, an angel. Like a dog
that had just been scratched in her favorite spot.
Jack said, "Oh, I insist. Just for a few minutes. It's not
far."
This time I looked at her directly. There was no mistaking the
crestfallen expression. I said, "Is it okay with you, Missy?"
"Yes." Her pleading eyes made her words a lie. I looked back
at Jack, but I couldn't think of any reason to decline. Off we
went in Jack's big Caddy, with Missy in the back alone. I
turned around once and saw a gleam on her cheek. She was crying
silently.
Jack's home was a snazzy Southwestern hacienda, adobe-walled
rooms surrounding an open court. He took me around proudly,
displaying his tasteless art collection and furnishings. We'd
lost Missy just after coming in, and I was hoping she'd found a
place to hide. I didn't like Jack's mood.
No such luck. Jack led me back to the great room, and there she
was. Naked. Kneeling. Eyes down. A collar on her neck where
the choker had been. Tears streaming down her face.
"Jack," I said. "What the fuck."
That smile was back. "Missy's very affectionate, aren't you,
Missy?"
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"I didn't hear you."
"Yes, Master," she said in a croaking voice.
"Missy, you will spend the night with my friend here. Do
anything he tells you to."
"Yes, Master."
"Jack, hold on a second. This is nuts. I mean, 'Master'? You
can't treat a woman this way."
Jack scowled, and his hands balled into fists. "Sure I can.
Missy likes it, don't you, Missy?"
"Yes, Master," came her mantra.
"And if she misbehaves, well, we have ways of correcting that.
Stand up, girl, and turn around."
Missy rose to her feet, a bit unsteady. She turned. Her back,
buttocks and thighs were crisscrossed with red welts. Jack took
a step toward her, pushed her shoulders down, and grabbed one
cheek of her ass, spreading her open. There were more angry
stripes in there, right across the shaved skin of her labia.
Those lips glistened, too, I couldn't help noticing. Not with
tears.
"Jack. Why are you showing me this?"
He laughed. "It's all just part of my full-service distribution
business. Jack takes care of you."
Like you've been taking care of her, I thought angrily.
"Besides, she wants you, see?" Jack dipped a finger into her,
then held it up, wet. "You want him, don't you, Missy?"
"Yes, Master."
"That didn't sound very sincere."
"Oh, yes, please, Master, I want to spend the night with him.
Please let me serve him with my body, Master. I want him so
bad. I want to feel him in me and taste his come."
I was dizzy and confused -- and hard. "Jack, stop this, all
right? I'm impressed, you've made your point. Just drop it,
okay?"
His face clouded, and I realized that his smile wasn't the most
threatening expression he could assume. "You wouldn't want to
turn down my hospitality, would you? Besides," he purred, "now
that I've given her the order, if she doesn't spend the night
with you she'll have to be punished."
Missy knew what that meant, and so did I. I saw the sag in her
shoulders. Besides, while my mind was protesting, my groin was
shouting "Yes!"
"All right, Jack, you win. Missy, get dressed. I'll call a
cab."
"Nonsense. You'll stay right here tonight. The guest room is
all yours."
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