Page 28 of Master Class

“I’m very, very horny,” Clarissa breathed. As if to demonstrate, she brazenly lifted the hem of her dress to her waist, revealing shamelessly to Edge the shaved pouting lips of her pussy. “And I’m very wet, Master.” She added. “I don’t think I can go another day without being fucked.”

Edge’s eyes were drawn naturally to the wet lips of Clarissa’s sex, but they stayed there for just a moment, before lifting back to her face. Clarissa could not read his expression; Edge’s face seemed blank. She had hoped to see desire, or lust… or even just interest.

Edge gave her nothing.

Instead he put his hand on her upper arm to lead her towards his office. “I can appreciate your frustration,” Edge spoke. “But you’re a virgin, Clarissa. Your first time shouldn’t be something superficial, or driven by purely lust. You should give your virginity to a man you love. That’s why I’ve been so careful with all your training sessions, and never allowed any experience to cross the line.” They went through the office door. Clarissa looked up at Edge. The top of her head was level with the man’s broad muscled shoulders.

“And remember that your pussy is something that most Masters will use strictly for their own pleasure – not yours. Fucking you has no benefit to your training as a submissive… that’s why your virginity has not inhibited any of the things that you have needed to experience.”

As he spoke, Edge’s eyes softened and he turned his face to stare into Clarissa’s eyes. His hand on her arm fell to his side – and Clarissa seized upon a desperate impulse to act.

“Fuck me, please!” she hissed the words as though she were racked with terrible pain, moving fiercely and pressing herself hard against Edge’s body. She flattened her breasts against him and threw her arms tight around his neck. She pulled his face all the way down to hers and her mouth was warm and wide open; passionate across Edge’s lips. Clarissa could feel the firm muscles of his thighs and the hardness of his cock within the denim. She ground her hips against him, her back arched, and she moaned in desperation and desire as she kissed him.

For long icy moments Edge stood rigid and unmoving, trapped within Clarissa’s groaning embrace and stunned by his shock. Then he wrenched his mouth away and glared down at her.

“Are you fucking insane?” Edge clamped hold of her wrists in the vice-like grip of his big hands and tore them away from him. Clarissa broke free and squirmed back inside his defenses. She pressed her mouth this time against his chest, kissing his hard body through the material of his t-shirt. At the same time her hands were cunning and frantic at the front of his jeans. She got the buckle of his belt unfastened.

“Please, Edge. I want you to be my first. I need your cock!” Her voice was muffled. She was writhing and gasping, her own panic beginning to rise. She could feel the unyielding resolve of him and it terrified her to desperation. “I’m begging you!”

Edge caught Clarissa by the shoulders and shoved her backwards into the chair by his desk.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Edge stood back from Clarissa. He put the big wide desk between them and stalked to his chair but did not sit. He was simmering with anger, offended by the way Clarissa had defied the strict discipline of a submissive by throwing herself at him. He glared at her, and Clarissa could not bear the withering accusation in his eyes. She came out of the chair and reached across the desk, making one last lunge for Edge’s cock.

“Please fuck me!” she cried out, her eyes wild, her hands scrambling for him. One of her breasts fell free of her dress but Clarissa didn’t notice. All of her desperate attention was focused on Edge. “I need you to make love to me. Now. It’s got to be now.”

She was panting. There was madness in her eyes.

Edge stepped back out of her reach and at last Clarissa knew that it was hopeless. Her hands fell away and her features seemed to collapse. Her face turned ghostly pale. She began to shiver, but for a long time remained unmoving, leaning over the desk. Then, at last, she began to cry. Slow tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She swallowed down her defeat like it was poison, then slumped, crushed and forsaken, into the seat. Her gaze turned blank, eyes sightless as a statue. Numbed shock and panic mingled into a feeling as desolate as grief.

Edge too was panting, bewildered and outraged by Clarissa’s willful disobedience. She had seemed possessed. Now suddenly she was small and shaken. He threw himself down in his chair, hands clenched into fists of tight restraint. His face was cold but his eyes were terrible.

For a long time Edge stared at Clarissa across the desk, watching her fear and confusion, her panic and her distress. Everything she felt was right there on her face, and it was gut wrenching to watch. She wept with unaccountable despair.

Finally Edge spoke, each word slow and deliberate.

“Tell me what that was all about.”

Clarissa couldn’t meet his eyes. She was hunched with her shoulders slumped, suddenly very cold. She fought back fresh tears and turned her head away.

“Tell me,” Edge demanded. Clarissa caught the bristle of his impatience in his tone, and shook her head meekly. “I… I can’t…”

Edge smashed his fist down hard on the table. Clarissa jumped and flinched with fright. “You don’t have a fucking choice!” the big army veteran snarled at her. “Because you’re not leaving until I get answers.”

It was a long time before Clarissa finally spoke. The words came creeping from her, tentative and incoherent, each explanation wrapped around it’s own tortured pain and hopelessness. Edge listened with rising alarm, asking insightful questions to urge her along whenever she faltered. Then, when Clarissa was done and everything had been explained, Nick Edge insisted she go back over the details of her story step by step. This time he listened with a rising sense of outrage.

“You auctioned off your virginity?”

“Yes.”

“To raise the money your grandfather needed to keep the banks from taking his farm from him?”

“That’s right,” Clarissa sniffled. “I thought I could sell myself to a wealthy man for one night. I was prepared to make that sacrifice to help my grandfather. He’s the only family I have.”

“And that was how you chose to raise forty thousand dollars?”

Clarissa shrugged. “I didn’t feel like I had any other choice. I was desperate. The banks were pressuring my grandfather for payment. He couldn’t hold out. He can’t continue to hold out.”

Edge nodded slowly. “And when you sold yourself, the man who bought your virginity turned out to be Congressman Wilton Jansing?”

“Yes,” Clarissa said softly. “I didn’t know who he was at the auction. He had a mask on. It was only when he arrived at the hotel penthouse that I recognized him.”

Edge grunted. The Congressman’s name had been muttered to him before amidst murky whispered allegations that could never be proven.

“But he didn’t want to take your virginity?”

“No,” Clarissa shook her head. “That was when I finally understood the lengths the man had gone to in order to trap me.”

“Because of your looks, right?”

Clarissa nodded. “He bought me as bait for you, Nick. He bought my virginity because he wanted me to photograph you fucking me. He was going to use the pictures to blackmail you.”

“And cl

aim that the girl in the photos was Anna, and that the two of us were engaged in some kind of scandalous affair?”

“Yeah,” Clarissa nodded, feeling somehow guilty by implication. “The Congressman was going to take the photos to the press. He knows that a lot of your funding for the work you do investigating sex traffickers comes from churches and Christian groups. He thought he could use the photos to cut off your support and break your organization.”

“And turn the trail that leads to Anna stone cold.”

“Yes. He said the photos would convince the media that you and Anna were having an affair. He said he could make it seem that the images were taken before Anna disappeared, and that the story would become about Anna running from you because the affair broke down. Her kidnapping would be forgotten.”

Edge made a sound like he had taken a gut-punch. His mouth was curled into a sneer of distain. He sat back in his chair and stared at the wall as the enormity of the Congressman’s plot struck him. The desk lamp was on, casting the rugged edges of his features into a deep shadows. It made him look menacing and frightening.

“Go on,” Edge said without turning his eyes back to Clarissa’s. He was peering into empty space, but behind the blank expression of his eyes, his mind was racing.

Clarissa shrugged. She felt somehow relieved. Purging herself of her guilt had unburdened her of a dreadful weight. “There’s nothing more to tell.”

Edge swung round in his chair.

“Jansing told you to offer yourself to me?”

“Yes,” Clarissa flushed with shame. “He told me that you were training girls to submit to Masters. He ordered me to come here and ask for training. He knew you wouldn’t turn me away. He was counting on my looks – the fact that Anna and I look identical – to compel you to train me.”

Edge smiled thinly. “That’s why you told me about the other men you had approached online when you first showed up on my doorstep…”

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