Page 27 of Master Class

She would be free of Congressman Jansing.

It made twisted sense to Clarissa; so much so that she attacked Jim’s cock like she was ravenous and desperate. Her mouth became a machine, her hand a blur up and down his shaft as she stroked him. She put her whole body into each suck of her mouth, swaying from the hips so that her breasts swung and her shoulders rocked. Her hair swished across the smooth flesh of her naked back. Her eyes locked on to Jim’s and never left him. They were eyes filled with deep desire and passion, huge and adoring. She used every single trick she had learned. She gasped and sucked, licked and teased. She swabbed the purpling crown of Jim’s cock with her tongue and devoured him until her nose pressed against the cool flesh of his abdomen.

After just a few frantic minutes, Jim was wailing and clenching his fists. His face filled with color and his whole body went tense. Clarissa felt his cock throb. She had him deep in her mouth, her lips clamped tight at the base of his shaft. Her whole body jolted as the man standing before her suddenly bucked his hips. His cock jabbed against the back of her throat – and then he came in a white hot rush.

“Jeeysus!” Jim cried out as the orgasm was torn from him. He felt his heat stop for an instant, and then crash back into frantic drumming. He stood, swaying on the balls of his feet. Clarissa hadn’t moved. She stayed, braced on her knees, and let Jim’s cock explode and leap and clench in her mouth like a bird flapping in a cage.

When it was over, and there was no more cum to swallow, Clarissa let the man’s cock slip limp and wasted from her mouth. Jim tottered back onto the bed, lying on his back with his eyes glazed and his chest heaving. He kept gasping for breath, trying to speak but not yet capable of mastering full words. The sounds were grunts and groans. Clarissa licked her lips, and got quietly to her feet.

“I have to see my Master,” she said.

Jim waved her away with a languid hand, like royalty dismissing a servant who was of no further use. Clarissa crept into the bathroom, stealthy as a thief. She pressed her ear against the far bedroom door and listened for a moment. In the bedroom beyond she could hear the distinct sounds of a girl moaning and panting. The sound was rising, seeming to grow in volume and passion. Clarissa reached for the door handle. Her palm was sweaty and still slippery with her saliva. She was shaking. Rage began to boil behind her eyes. Then she heard Margie cry out, “I’m gonna cum!”

Clarissa flung the door open and stood wild-eyed in the threshold.

The girl was lying in the middle of a big bed, her legs wide apart and her knees slightly bent. She had one hand between her legs, and with the fingers of her other hand, she was plucking at her nipples. Her eyes were closed and her face was twisted into the ecstasy of an orgasm.

Nick Edge was standing on the other side of the room. He looked across at Clarissa with surprise.

“Are you finished?” he asked simply.

Clarissa felt the blood drain from her face with acute embarrassment. She stood wide-eyed and naked, panting, with accusations tripping off the end of her tongue. She bit them back in a whirl of incomprehension. Edge wasn’t fucking the girl at all. In fact he wasn’t even touching her, or kissing her, or even fingering her.

He had been watching the girl make herself cum.

Clarissa shuffled her feet. She couldn’t look Edge in the eye. Instead she stared at Margie as the girl tenderly stroked herself with the soft touches of afterglow. “Yes, Master. I made Jim cum as you ordered.”

“Good,” Edge pushed himself off the wall and brushed past her. They exchanged glances for just an instant and Clarissa quailed when she saw the understanding in Edge’s eyes. She averted her gaze and lowered her head.

She had made a fucking fool of herself, Clarissa realized. And Edge had known, the bastard! He had known all along how jealous this scene was going to make her feel.

And she had proven him right.

After a minute, Clarissa came back into the bedroom where Edge and Jim were talking quietly. Jim was dressed. Edge looked up.

“Jim says you were very enthusiastic, and very skillful,” Edge reported.

“Thank you, Master,” Clarissa said humbly, feeling like a fraud.

“He was impressed with your talent and your willingness.”

“Thank you, Master.” She glanced furtively at Jim and saw the big man nodding his head. He had a stupid lopsided grin on his face.

“The session is over for the night,” Edge went on, and a glimmer of hardness came into his voice. “Gather your things from downstairs and go home. I’ll expect you back tomorrow evening, on time… and with the right attitude.”

Clarissa nodded. She left the bedroom and scurried down the stairs. As she began to dress, she heard footsteps descending. She turned and saw Edge. He came very close to her, his voice suppressed to a bleak whisper, every word frosted with ice.

“Don’t you ever dare to think again,” he warned her. “It’s not your purpose, and it’s not your role. You don’t think – you just do. You’re a mouth and a pussy to be used for your Master’s pleasure, when he sees fit.”

“Yes, Master,” Clarissa felt tears sting her eyes, and she fought to batter them away. “I understand it all now.”

Chapter 14:

The burner phone rang.

A chill of ominous fear leaped up Clarissa’s spine.

She snatched the phone out of her handbag and held it to her ear, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked like a slut. Her hair was still tousled from her session at Edge’s house, and her lipstick was smeared.

“Hello?” There was a tremor of apprehension in her voice.

“Did Edge fuck you?” the Congressman’s voice was harsh and accusing.

“No.”

The silence that ensued was dreadful. Clarissa gnawed at her lip. The empty space lasted a painfully long time.

“Your grandfather has one more day – just one more fucking day! Do you understand me?” Jansing was shouting at her.

“Yes,” Clarissa said. She hung up, and then quietly broke down in tears.

The moment Clarissa appeared at the front gates, the high iron fence began to roll back across the driveway. She gave the security camera perched in the foliage of a tree a familiar wave, then stepped onto the loose pebbles of the driveway. She walked with confidence and poise, swinging her hips with just a hint of flirtatious strut.

But behind the calm façade, she was nervous and trembling.

Each breath needed to be forced from her lungs; each casual swaying stride was a fresh test of her will.

She reached the steps without faltering and knocked lightly on the door. After a moment Nick Edge appeared, filling the frame and concentrating her thoughts. He was dressed casually in a brown t-shirt and faded denim jeans. He hadn’t shaved that morning, so his cheeks and jaw were shadowed gunmetal blue with raspy stubble. He smiled into her eyes like he was delighted to see her.

“How do you feel after the last training session?” Edge asked Clarissa, as if her answer was the password for entry into the house.

She stood on the step and considered her reply. It was dark, and the porch lights were on. Behind Edge, the interior of the big house looked warm and inviting. Clarissa was wearing a short blue dress that buttoned at the front, and had a black leather belt cinched around her waist. The accessory seemed to accentuate the narrow perfection of her figure. As an added allure, Clarissa had bought a thin black length of leather cord and knotted it around her neck as a kind of collar. She licked her lips. Her face was made up perfectly; she looked the epitome of sexual desire… and she knew it.

“I feel fine,” she said carefully. Every word was so important. She could still hear the tolling echo of Congressman Jansing’s last ominous threat to her. She knew she had run out of time. She could no longer wait for Edge to choose to fuck her. Tonight she had to force the issue. There was no other choice. The realization filled her with the dread of a looming deadline, but also served to harden her resolve. Her tra

ining under the submissive tutelage of Nick Edge had given her brimming sexual confidence. She felt she now understood the small mysteries of a man’s arousal, and those experiences buoyed her enough to fight back debilitating panic.

Only just.

“Did you enjoy the session?”

“Yes, Master,” Clarissa put extra effort into the small sexy smile that played across her lips. “But I do have a confession…”

“Oh?” Edge arched his eyebrows with intrigue. He was still standing, blocking the door. He stepped back and Clarissa walked past him. She stopped and turned in the hallway. Edge closed the door.

“So, what’s the secret?” he asked.

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