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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 7 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




                            10.

It was our first night actually sleeping together, or at least
that was the plan.  I hadn't shut my eyes.  The moon shadows
were slowly rising along the wall opposite the window.  My mind
refused to relax.

I looked over at the black-on-black form that was Corey.  She'd
gone to sleep curled against my chest, but she'd stirred a few
times and now had her back to me.  I wasn't used to the extra
warmth, and had my arms outside the covers.

I'd told her I was her master.  What the hell was I thinking?

I wanted Corey to blossom, to come out of the shell she'd built
around her real self.  I really, truly wanted that.  How would
that ever happen now?

I needed a plan.  I needed help.  I wished I knew a psychiatrist
or counselor who had experience in cases like this.  Hell, any
psychiatrist would do.  I wanted to get her off my hands.  Just
as long as she never left my side...

This was crazy, and dangerous.  I was falling in love with her. 
I'd already fallen.  If I didn't watch it I'd be doing just what
she wanted.  She had found a way into my soul, offering me the
lead role in the drama of her life.  It was too much to resist,
at least for my subconscious self.  My rational mind had to be
strong now.  I had to keep control, find a way to free her, even
though it hurt to think of her leaving me to resume a real life.

For a few minutes I savored a hatred for her father, her
upbringing that had made her so vulnerable to Jack's sadism. 
God help me, I got hard thinking about her having orgasms under
his whip.

Corey stirred again and moaned a little in her sleep.  The
covers rose and fell, puffing out a breath of the scent of our
sex.  Her arm came flying across and whacked me on the shoulder.
I chuckled.  She wasn't used to sharing a bed, Jack had made
her sleep on the floor.  It would be like that with me, too.  It
had been ages since I'd had a steady partner.

A plan.  I needed a plan.  What would a psychologist do?  Sit
her down, get her to talk about things.  Well, she'd started to
do that.  It hadn't worked.  Therapy takes years, I thought. 
Years and years, and in the meantime I'd have a loving slave...

No!  I didn't want her that way.  Well, yes, I wanted her any
way I could get her, but I'd rather not have her that way.  I
didn't think so, at least.  Oh, Jesus.

Psychologist.  Psychology.  Reverse psychology.  What if...  In
that instant I saw it, a possible way to heal her.  Oh, it was
risky, so damn risky.  It could backfire on both of us.  Even if
I could take it, I was afraid she couldn't.  But if it worked...

I thought of Corey, a real, complete, free Corey.  I held the
image of her standing at my side over a long, sweet lifetime. 
Wasn't that worth any risk?  To me, it certainly was.  But the
risk wasn't mine alone.  I had to think it out, foresee every
contingency, plan ahead so I could handle and guide the crisis
to come.  I imagined a narrow, twisting path, razor-thin, with
fiery chasms on either side.  One chasm was mine: losing her. 
The other was hers, a shattered, broken place where nobody
dreams or hopes.  If she went that way she'd pull me in along
with her.

No.  I couldn't walk that road.  I'd have to send her to a pro. 
It would cost.  Money: shrinks didn't come cheap.  And probably
it would cost me Corey.  I tried to dismiss my happy fantasy,
starring her and me.  My chest tightened around it and refused
to let go.

Some unremembered time later my thoughts spun out and I relaxed.
I woke to the smell of coffee and the light of a sunny autumn
morning.  I rubbed the haze from my eyes.  Corey was kneeling
beside the bed.  There was a tray -- no, a breadboard, she
hadn't found the trays -- on the night stand, and it had a
steaming mug and a buttered English muffin and grapes and
strawberries.

"Good morning, Master.  How do you like your coffee?  I wasn't
sure so I brought milk and sugar."

"Just milk.  Oh, Corey, please stop saying that."  I sat up and
stretched.

"But you said..."

"I know, I know.  I don't suppose you'll let me take it back? 
No, I didn't think so.  Well, if I'm going to be the master,
then you have to do what I say, right?  And I say, don't call me
'Master', it makes me feel funny."

She looked glum.  "All right... Sir."

I reached for the muffin, but she said, "Oh, no!  Here."  She
lifted it to me, cupping her other hand under my chin to catch
the crumbs.  Christ, there was something to be said for this
master stuff.  She watched me adoringly as I ate.  She dabbed my
mouth with a napkin.  She fed me fruit and handed me the mug.

"How about you?  Did you have your breakfast yet?"

She dropped her eyes, blushing.  "I'm not supposed to eat
breakfast."

"Says who?"  I swung my legs down and got out of bed, still
holding my coffee.  "Come on, let's get some food into you." 
She trotted along to the kitchen with me, and sat uncomfortably
as I put an identical muffin and fruit meal in front of her. 
"Ready for coffee?"

"I don't drink it.  Never did."

"Ah.  Well, at least that's one thing he couldn't take away from
you."  I leaned down and kissed her lips, and she responded
warmly.  And then I needed the bathroom, so I left her with
orders to eat up.

I remembered to close the door this time.  Good thing, too. 
Corey was waiting just outside, kneeling.  She'd chosen the
spread-knee, hands-behind-back position.  Heaven help me.  I
couldn't hide my arousal, not from Corey, not from myself.  She
leaned forward again...

Saved by the bell.  The telephone rang.  I pulled free and
walked over to get it.  "Hello?  Oh, hi, Patricia."  I sat down
on the edge of the bed.  Corey parked herself in front of me,
pushing her breasts forward.  Erect nipples.

"I take it you're not coming in today," my boss said, just a
hint of a question in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm taking the comp time for once."  There was a pause,
and I stumbled on.  "There are a couple personal things I've
been putting off, and it seemed like a good time."

"Right, okay.  Lord knows you've got it coming.  Excuse the
intrusion, but if you can spare a few minutes..."

"Sure."

"Okay.  Well, I won't comment about the terms.  I guess Jack
deserves his reputation as a hard bargainer.  But if he moves
the kind of volumes we expect, you'll still come out looking
great."

"Thanks."  I knew she was curious, though.  I was her best
wheeler-dealer, and she must feel I'd let her down a little.

"But there is one thing.  What's with the two-week delay?"

Uh-oh.  "Well, it's a little hard to explain.  There are some
issues I'd rather not tell you about in detail."  That was no
lie.  Corey was leaning forward, smiling, licking her lips. 
"Jack and I both thought it would be better this way."

"Hmmm.  I can't agree.  Those two weeks will give our
competition that much more time to get in bed with him..."  Ha! 
"...and even if he does sign the delay will cut down the numbers
badly.  Hell, his sales won't amount to diddly this year.  By
the time we get product into the pipeline it'll be late November
and holiday season will be over, for all practical purposes."

Damn, I'd overlooked that.  "Uh, I guess you're right, Patricia.
Uh, I suppose I could give him a call and try to change his
mind."  Corey had her hand around the base of my shaft, and she
began licking it, bottom to top, along the underside.

"Great, thanks.  Let's get this finalized ASAP.  If you get him
to sign you can take Wednesday, too.  How's that?"

"Wonderful!" I said.  I wasn't talking about the extra day, and
Corey knew it, beaming up at me.  She gave the swollen head the
tiniest little nip with her front teeth.

"All right, then.  Give me a call when you know."

"Fine.  Bye, Patricia."  The moment the phone went down, so did
Corey.  I groaned and slid my fingers into her hair.  She was
relentless, merciless.  In moments by hips were grinding, my
knees splayed out so wide it hurt my crotch.  There was a fire
in Corey's mouth, and it was spreading.  Rolling her eyes up at
me, she stopped bobbing and ran her tongue back and forth just
under the helmet.

"Oh, God, Corey, I'm gonna come."  I remembered that promise, at
least.  She doubled the speed of her tongue-strokes and I hit
the top.  She took it all, mouth open, tongue extended and
rolled.  She stayed that way for a few seconds before
swallowing.  Then she cleaned me.

Careful, I thought.  You're getting addicted to this.  But at
the moment that didn't seem so bad at all.



                            11. 

I sent Corey out for some groceries.  I told her to shower and
get dressed, without exact instructions, and wrote out a list. 
It was just some staples, like salt and oil, and I had no idea
if we really needed them.  I didn't want her around when I
talked to Jack.

Corey was very nervous about going out by herself.  I could
understand that.  It was unlikely she'd been out alone for three
years, and here she was in a strange town in a strange state. 
She made excuses, begged me to go along, but I was adamant.

"It's simple.  You can't possibly get lost, and this is a safe
town.  Nobody will bother you.  Just turn left out of the
driveway, follow the road to the first stop sign -- it's less
than a mile -- and turn right.  You can see the store from the
corner.  Here's some money, more than you need.  If you see
anything else you like, get it.  Okay?"

She nodded solemnly.  I looked her over.  She was stunning in
jeans and a sweatshirt.  I grinned at her.  She gave a faint
smile in return.  I guided her to the door.  What a day!  It was
cool, not cold, sunny, and the trees were just coming into their
best color.  "Stay well off the edge of the road, people drive
pretty fast along here."

"Okay."  She took a couple steps down off the porch, then
turned.  "You're going to talk to him, aren't you?"

"It's just business, Corey."

She nodded and turned.  I watched her to the end of the
driveway.  She turned again and waved.  I waved back and she
walked out of sight.

I gritted my teeth as I dialed Jack's office.  This would be
humiliating, but if it worked it would be worth it.  It might
even help with my master plan... Oops!  Bad choice of words. 
Call it my un-master plan.  Jack's secretary took my name and
rang his line.

"Well, well," he said gloatingly.  "I figured I'd be hearing
from you about now.  How's Missy?  Behaving herself, is she? 
Need some tips on how to keep her in line?"

"She's fine.  She likes her new clothes, but I can't get her to
stop calling me Master."

Jack roared.  "I knew it!  You thought you were so damn smart,
huh?  Not so easy to get rid of a cunt like her."

I fumed and kept silent.

"Well, well.  So mister high-and-mighty has his very own slave
now.  You call just to tell me this, or do you want to give her
back?"  

Aha.  Thought so.  "Not exactly, Jack.  Look, you win, okay? 
She's my slave, like you said.  And God help me, I love it. 
There, are you happy now?"  My stomach was lurching, as much
from the all-too-large ration of truth in that sentence as from
the need to say it.

"Attaboy.  I knew there was a man in there someplace."  Lurch,
lurch.  "Cut to the chase, son."

"Let's close the deal now.  You want the goods in time for the
holidays.  We want your business.  And..."

"Go on."

"And I want to nail down my hold on her."  Did it sound right? 
Come on, Jack, give.

"Ahhh."  For a while there was nothing but his breathing.  I
resisted the urge to say more, to beg, to whack him one.  "So." 
Another pause.  "All right, son, you got it.  Give me your
address, and I'll fed-ex the stuff."

"Send it to me at work, to my attention, personal and
confidential.  Better double-up on the envelope, we don't want
any accidents."

He chuckled.  "It's going to take more than an envelope.  But
I'll double-box it."

"Your contract will go out tomorrow, as soon as I get the stuff.
You can start ordering immediately, I'll tell the girls to hold
them for a couple days."

"Fine, fine.  Actually, I've got an order all written up."

Bastard.  He knew.  Bloody fucking bastard.

"Jack.  One more thing.  I want it all, everything.  Originals,
negatives, prints, any and all copies.  She's mine now,
understand?"

That nasty laugh again.  "Right, son, whatever you say.  Most of
the shit is Polaroids anyway.  Besides, what the hell do I want
it for now?"

"That includes the stuff on her old man, Jack."

Now there was a really long pause.  I heard his fingers drumming
on his desk.  "You know about old man Appleton, huh?  Shit. 
Well, all right, a deal's a deal.  That stuff might have come in
handy some day, though."  Then he gave a big laugh.  "You really
are a good negotiator, son."

"Thanks.  You're not so shabby yourself.  Jack, I know there's
no way I can be sure you're not keeping copies.  Just remember. 
If anything ever comes out, on her or the father, I'll make sure
that you go down with them.  Savvy?"

"Sure, Kemosabe.  Just you remember, though -- don't ever try to
use this shit against me.  That's a threat, son."

"I understand," I said, shivering.

"So," he said jovially, "what have you been up to with good ol'
Missy?  She been getting your rocks off all right?  Staying out
of your way?  Walking the straight and narrow?  Try this: make
her beg for her whippings.  It's awesome, honestly.  What the
hell was that about new clothes?"

"Jack, that's none of your fucking business."  I hung up.  My
hands were shaking.  Thank God for speed dialing, I'd have never
been able to punch the whole number.  I called the mail room and
told them to keep an eye out for the package from Jack, and call
me at home when it came in.  I transferred to Order Entry and
gave the heads-up to Bea: accept Jack's orders but hold them
until we gave the final go-ahead.  Then I tried Patricia's
extension, but got her voice mail.  I told her I thought Jack
would sign within two days, and rang off. 

Then I leaned back in my chair and heaved a great sigh.  Maybe
this would work, after all.

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