Free Manhattan Master by Jesse Joren

"Anything you want.
Anything at all. Use me."
    My words fade into the
thick, carved silence of the room. All I can hear is our breathing,
and the muted sounds of downtown Manhattan traffic. The streets
teem below, filled with traffic and horns, the occasional
siren.
    Yet here I stand in this
quiet hotel room, unable to say more than those few
words.
    Who could have known that a
business meeting could have led to this? You came to Atlanta to buy
a loft for the times you're there on business. If I hadn't been the
only agent in the office that day, I might never have met
you.
    After many weeks I found
exactly what you wanted in Peachtree Plaza. Western view from every
room. Hand-cut stone tiles in the foyer. Private
elevator.
    It was hard work to meet
your exacting standards, and I was triumphant to find such a
perfect match. What I didn't know was that you cared very little
about the expensive penthouse. You'd already found exactly what you
wanted.
    Me.
    Cell phones brokered our long-distance
romance. You pursued me with diamonds and orchids. I gave my heart
to you.
    Now my body has followed.
I've left behind the familiar Southern life I know to give myself
into your hands. No limits. That's what you require, what I
crave.
    I glance up at you through my lashes,
trying to read something behind your impassive expression. I kneel
between your muscular thighs, the position you instructed me to
assume as I entered.
    The warm day and my excitement have
left my body misted with sweat. The thin, cornflower-blue cotton of
my dress begins to cling to my skin.
    The air conditioning is on.
I can hear it, but it does little to cool me. My body's flush is
not all from the day's heat. Can you smell my arousal coming
through my pores?
    The thought excites me.
    "Really. Anything?" you ask
in that soft, deceptive tone that still makes me weak.
    "Anything," I repeat, my
voice more high-pitched than usual.
    You thrill me, but you also make me
nervous. The mixture is part of what makes you like a drug,
something I can't resist.
    "Pull up your dress and let
me see your body," you say. Half teasing request, half stern
command. Totally irresistible.
    I raise my skirt to my
thighs, my waist, my breasts, slowly baring my body to you. As you
instructed, I wear nothing under the dress.
    I look down to see myself
as you do. A smooth, lightly-tanned body. Rounded breasts and dark
pink nipples. The mild, shaved rise between my thighs.
    Your eyes give nothing away
when I glance at you. How much I want to please you.
    "Pull your left nipple
tight," you say.
    I take the little bud and
tug, pulling it out from my breast. I tense when you reach into
your pocket and pull out a small pocket knife, the something else.
It looks like fishing line.
    Something in my expression
makes you smile.
    "Hold it out. Don't let
go," you say. "Hold onto the very tip and pull."
    I pull hard as you cut a
piece of the twine, wrapping the length around the base like a tiny
noose. Tighter and tighter it pulls until a little moan escapes me.
Your fingers are quick as they make the knot.
    "Let go," you tell
me.
    When I release my nipple it
protrudes, aching and erect. I feel a familiar tingle between my
thighs.
    "Good. Now the other side."
    The sting of the twine
wraps around the base of my right nipple, yanking it erect to match
its mate. You wrap one more cruel twist around each base, trimming
away the excess line.
    The clear strip is almost
invisible, sunk deep into my swollen flesh. Those lines won't be
coming off until they're cut.
    "Very nice," you say,
brushing your palms over the aching tips. They harden to the point
of pain under your touch.
    "These don't show as much
as clamps would. I might be taking you places where it's better to
be slightly more discreet."
    I have no idea what you're
talking about. I thought we agreed only to meet in this room, but
I've given myself to you. If the trust wasn't there, I would have
stayed home.
    That doesn't mean that I
don't also feel fear.