No Trespassing Ch. 07

Author Comments

I want to thank everyone who has read this series and/or taken the time to leave a comment. I appreciate the words of encouragement and the feedback on the details.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

The series starts as lesbian nonconsent/reluctance. A lesbian goes off the grid for vacation. She seeks shelter from a storm at what is assumed to be a seldomly used cabin but is caught when the owner shows up unexpectedly. The years of suppressing her submissive tendencies bubble to the surface as she is forced to accept punishment for trespassing and settling the tab for staying in the cabin.

If this is offensive to you, please find another story. If you read on, please enjoy and comments are always welcome.

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Back to Reality

The trail was rocky and required full attention when running. One false step and the bone in your ankle would snap. It was why I chose this route, to give my mind something else to focus on. After several days of silence, of dwelling on things best left at the cabin, I forced myself to leave the house, to stop looking at the empty inbox.

Sweat rolled down my back as I crested the ridge. I'd hoped the run would not only get me back into my routine but banish the memories which plagued my dreams every night since being released.

I panted, stopping to stretch my legs. The back side of the path would be more challenging with the downhill slope as there was a higher risk of rolling rocks and slick pebbles. Tomorrow would be my first day back at work. Running would help to focus on sleuthing.

Twigs snapped to my right, and I squinted into the shadows to find the source. I didn't see anything, at least there wasn't anything resembling a human lurking in the trees. I was on top of it. Nothing was going to catch me off guard this time.

"As if," I muttered before taking quick sip of water from my pack. Some investigator I was. Never heard her coming to begin with. Such much for my Spidey senses.

I set off down the trail which would led back to the orange stone parking lot. I made mental note to take on work that would get me back out into the field. Too much time spent behind a desk looking at numbers. If last week was anything to go by, I was rusty.

The birds singing to each other usually made me relaxed and happy, but today it was just annoying. They took me back to the cabin, to the walk through the woods by my pussy. Heat flared up between my legs at the memory.

"Oh, for fucks sakes!" I ran harder, fighting against the images which kept me horny for the better part of the weekend.

This would not do. I could not show up at work distracted by my throbbing pussy and aching tits. I needed to stop the memories from taking up space in my head. Unfortunately, forcing the images away allowed the questions to fill the vacuum.

Why had I let a stranger take me prisoner and make me her slut? Why had I not immediately gone to the cops to report the incident after she let me go? Why was I checking the email she'd left in my bag every day?

I pushed harder as the path merged onto a wide gravel road.

Almost four days and the inbox was empty. I was so distracted by her playing with my ass that I couldn't remember which email options I provided her. Maybe that was for the best. At least I couldn't make a bigger fool of myself by begging for a due date.

The fact she gave me only one email option, confirmed she had some type of internet connection at the cabin. How else would she have chosen an available email address for me? She was always in control, even now, she knew how to contact me while I was left in the dark wondering what was next.

It didn't matter. I wasn't going to follow through on it anyway. Even if she did email, I would ignore it. This whole thing was insane.

Tomorrow. Monday morning. I would start fresh. A clean slate. No more checking the email account, no more thinking about her.

I nodded, picking up speed. That's right. Debt cancelled. I wouldn't be making any more payments. Final answer.

*****

"Feme Charlie," the blonde bimbo at the café called out.

Normally, I would just wait and make coffee at the office, but I'd slept so poorly last night, I made a detour for a double espresso.

The girl who looked twelve would never think to use my name. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember a time when I was rude to her. There was no reason for the creative name calling.

Hell, from what I could tell, she was straight as an arrow and young enough to be my daughter. So, I know I didn't flirt with her or vice versa. There was no root cause for this name bashing.

I ground my teeth, retrieving the cup before escaping back onto the busy street. I stepped to one side of the outside patio and carefully took a sip.

The hot caffeine hit rushed to my brain and I heaved an internal sigh of relief. Maybe I could forget the vacation.

"That's not what I wanted," a warm rich authoritative voice cut through the hum of conversations. "You know what I meant."

I froze. My heart stopped. It couldn't be. She couldn't, there was no way to trace me.

"Look, Roger, just do it exactly as I said."

I scanned the area to my right.

A tall blond with bright red lipstick and almost alabaster white skin, gripped a phone to her ear. "It better be done by twelve. Or I'll cut that fee in half."

The pressure in my chest released as I met the stranger's gaze. Her eyes were a hard dark brown not green. There was no hint of amusement, just pure anger. I shuddered at the similarity in accent though. Whomever Roger was, he was not having a good day. I only hoped mine would be better.

After another sip to calm my rattled nerves, I weaved my way through the crowd toward the distraction of work.

Agnes's desk was empty when I walked in. She must have been on a cleaning spree last week as nothing was out of place on her desk. The hard top shone with a new coat of polish.

The small lobby with one tan love seat and several cloth guest chairs were neatly pushed against the walls. The small coffee table was perfectly centered and decorated with a handful of popular magazines, artfully spread semi-circle. The blinds to the dark conference room at the back of the lobby was smudge free.

As I made my way down the public hallway, I noticed the cubes on the other side of the conference room were quiet. It looked like Jamie was the only early bird today.

"Charlie," Jamie called out when I tried to sneak past his office.

His smile was contagious, but for a brief second, I wished I'd taken the back hallway through the breakroom and snuck into my office.

"You're so tired from hiking the state you needed a double shot?" He asked as I placed the cup on my desk.

Before I could sit, he enveloped me in a bear hug. All the irritation from the barista and the near panic attack after, dropped away.

"Something like that," I mumbled into his shirt.

He stepped back, grinning. I smiled back at him. "Must be something big if you went to the café so soon."

I waved him off and slid behind my desk, booting my computer.

"So, what was it today?"

"Nothing," I replied, but couldn't grab my cup quick enough.

"Feme Charlie," he laughed.

"Knock it off," I replied as some of the earlier irritation crept back in. "Just because she loves you and would never think to mangle your name."

"It's my award-winning smile." He grinned from ear to ear as if to prove it. "Besides, I can't help it if women fall in love with me instead of my dear sister."

I frowned and swallowed my less than happy reply with espresso.

"Well, I'll give you a few minutes to catch up on emails before the staff meeting."

"Anything, new come up."

"Yup. It's in there, we can dig into the details at the meeting. Another due diligence case for another merger came in while you were out."

"The Miller one?"

"Nope. Bradshaw Brothers. Software. Wants to buy out a database center to build its portfolio."

"Ok," I said as I opened my work email and browsed to the files Agnes posted to our internal network for each client.

Hopefully, two due diligence cases would be enough to keep me focused on work and not her.

Despite the backlog of emails and starting a new case while collecting more information on the Miller file, I was never more than two thoughts away from being reminded about the woman.

The day had been long and tedious. Even the new client wasn't much of a challenge. Easier work for background checks which we handed off to one of our junior PIs. Saved the client money while relieving me of tedious work.

I was only going through the motions as I caught up on emails and halfheartedly read accounting statements.

Monday motions turned into Tuesday faking it and by Wednesday morning I was exhausted with the constant battle. My mind fought my body. The nights were filled mostly with black dreamless sleep followed by bizarre twists on memories just before sunrise.

I huffed down the back hallway of the office to the break room, regretting my decision not to stop by the café for a double shot of espresso, but the last thing I needed was a passive aggressive coffee maid.

The pot was still brewing as I stood there willing it to drip faster. I should be celebrating three days of resistance. Which would have been better if the dumb cardinal singing outside my bedroom window this morning wouldn't have made my mind wander back to a thick black cock sliding into my slick pussy.

The memory of the smooth strap-on filling me up in one hole while pressing against the plug in my ass, had me moaning as I slid a finger over my slit. Just thinking about being fucked senseless, made me wet. I slid two fingers inside me. The light sheet wrapped around my legs restricting my movement just enhanced the sensation. The feeling of authority floated over me. My fingers picked up rhythm, sliding faster and faster as I imagined my mistress fucking me. The dildo pressing deliciously against the plug in my ass. With a quick shudder, I achieved a less than satisfactory orgasm.

The pot gurgled bring me back from my morning masturbation session.

No, I shook my head, this was not what I wanted. I needed to focus on work. On my real life.

"Morning, Charlie. Is today grumpy or mopey?" Jamie asked as I poured my favorite Italian sweet cream into my coffee.

I bit my lower lip fighting the urge to snap at him. He might be an adult, but he was still my baby brother, and he knew how to find sensitive spots like no one else. Well, except for her.

"Neither." I focused on stirring, not bothering to look up.

"Oh goody! Grumpy."

I blew out a sigh. "I'm just tired."

"And here I thought going off the grid was to energize you."

I turned leaning back against the counter and looked up at him. Jamie may have been younger by four years, but he had our father's height standing like a giant at six three.

The crisp maroon shirt was wrinkle free. He pushed a lock of his auburn hair off his forehead. His frown hid the dimples. He was a perpetual smiler, and I was sure the dimples were how he won over his wife, Melody.

The concern in his deep brown eyes stopped me from snapping back at him. I really needed to stop obsessing about the email or lack thereof. About the woman. About the self-imposed silence.

We were close as siblings went, but that didn't mean I wanted him to know about my sexual kinks. I was pretty sure he didn't know all the details of my first adult mistake. He was there after the fact, and I leaned on him as I worked my way free of the abusive relationship. One I'd help create, but he didn't need to know that.

As my psychologist said, it may have started consensual, but it didn't end that way. The other party knew better and took full advantage of me. But that didn't change my desire to be dominated, to a certain extent.

"I'm sorry. It's," I waved a hand in the air then crossed my arms over my chest. How would he react if I told him about the cabin?

Jamie slid his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. "It's what, sis?" His voice was soft.

I bit my lower lip. It was so tempting to confide in him all the mixed-up emotions running through me. With a small shake of my head I said, "It's nothing really. Just wondering where I'm going. What I'm doing. What I want."

The quick smile and deep dimples reappeared. "Oh my god. You're having a midlife crisis."

"Shut up." My arms dropped as I straightened to my full intimidating five four height. "I am not."

"Are so."

"Dammit Jamie. Am not."

"So."

"Not."

"Sorry to intrude," Agnes said making me jump. "But can you save the so intriguing sibling debate for later?" She turned to face Jamie. "Mr. Simon, your nine o'clock is here."

Agnes was almost old enough to be our grandmother, but that didn't stop her from being in love with my brother. When he turned his big dimply smile on her, she looked like she would swoon, like actually swoon.

"That's great. Let me grab a couple cups of coffee and I'll be down in a jiff." If it was possible, his smile was bigger.

Before I could lose any more of my composure, I grabbed my cup and headed out the back of the breakroom. The small hallway was boring in all white, but I loved the fact that I could move from the breakroom to our separate offices on the far side of the floor without being in the public area.

The conference room door off the private hallway was closed and I could just make out voices on the other side of the door as Agnes escorted the new client into the room. We had enough repeat clients to keep us in business. We weren't a huge firm by any means, but we had carved out a few specialty niches. Partnering up with a couple of small law firms in the area, hadn't hurt either.

I turned right into the hallway at the end. The short hallway blocked the cubes on the other side of the wall, giving our two private offices on the left more security. They belonged to me and Jamie so we could handle more delicate matters if needed. The offices weren't huge, but there was plenty of room for a desk and two guest chairs.

The view over the city was lit up by the morning sun. A yellow hue seemed to linger over the buildings, reflecting off the glass windows. Later in the day it would be a kaleidoscope of different colors.

I slid into my chair with the city view to my left. It gave me the ability to ensure no one could surprise me by entering my office unnoticed. Unlike my brother's office, where the desk was centered facing the door and his back to the window.

He'd laughed when I pointed out that it was not a good thing to sit with your back to the outside. It kind of made sense that no one could surprise you from a five-story window, but to me it didn't matter. I needed to see all points of egress and ingress.

It was one of the main reasons the office was designed the way it was. Maximum privacy for our offices and multiple exits routes. My office was next to the back stairwell. Two hallways ran parallel on either side of the space with the cubes and conference room in between. If anything should go down, I could take either hallway towards the front.

It gave me options and I liked options. Even if my older mind knew that it was extremely low probability I would need to run for my life - again, the younger paranoid version won out.

I pulled up my calendar that Agnes maintained for us. Only one new potential client in the afternoon. Plenty of time to sleuth my way through accounts and online data for the Key Limited merger. Nothing exciting had turned up so far, things seemed to be as expected.

Shame really. I was ready for a challenge, a mystery to solve. Like the identity of the woman. All I had to do was open Tracer and enter the license plate I memorized. Just had to type in CNG 327 and the mystery woman would have a name. From there a few keystrokes would lay bare all the public information about her.

"Stop it, Charlie," I muttered to myself as I pulled up the file on Key Limited. "Just need to let it go girl. Move along."

Just before five I made my escape from the office, stopping at the grocery and package stores for supplies. I was dancing around the kitchen as Pink sang to me, chopping and prepping supper. I could feel my shoulders relaxing the more I danced and cooked. I wondered how my life would have turned out had I decided to become a chef instead of a PI.

Most people escaped through reading books, but I escaped by cooking. It was easy to get lost in experimenting with ingredients and spices to see which ones blended well together. I enjoyed sleuthing more though despite the fact it was born from necessity -- mostly. Both presented their own challenges. PI work allowed me to have a more flexible schedule for when I needed to go off the grid and recharge.

I finished cutting assorted zucchini and peppers to sauté while the small filet was coming up to room temperature. A 2017 bottle of Camartina was open on the counter, breathing.

The wine was a very blatant reminder of the woman I was resolving to forget. The same wine she shared on our last night together. A fact I conveniently ignored as I poured a half glass. It was good wine, no sense in not enjoying it, right? Had nothing to do with her.

Nope. Not a thing.

The warmth of the cab spread down my throat and into my chest. It was as good as I remembered. I saluted myself, proud I'd made it three days without checking email. I was determined not to check it again before bed.

I was strong enough to walk away. I would walk away. I would never check to see if she ever sent an email. I walked about before, I could and would do it again.

We could wonder together in silence about who the other was. What might have been.

I nodded, yes this was best.

The filet sizzled and I removed it to rest, setting the vegetables to low, keeping them warm. The table was set for one. A lonely one, but it was best this way. No one got hurt, especially me.

My secret laptop sat on the placemat to my right. Like a silent friend who kept all my darkest secrets. It only came to life when I wanted to research things and not easily tracked. There was always a risk of tracing things back to me, but I made sure to disconnect and secure this computer after every use and used VPN and private search engines to cover what I could.

As I took my place at the table, my silent computer friend with its black screen sat there, waiting. There was nothing to research. Nothing to see as I savored my meal. Just don't turn it on.

It might have been easier if I just hadn't taken it out of the safe to begin with. All I had to do was put it back in the safe. Ignore the elephant in the room because it shouldn't be in the room.

I took another sip of the fine wine my mistress introduced me to. It was quite lovely, just like her.

Long firm legs. Silky blonde hair. Full lips that were quick to smile. The twinkle in her green eyes as I walked into one verbal trap or another. The way the same eyes turned dark as I brought her to orgasm with my mouth.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. My hand didn't listen to me when I said no, didn't listen to me as I opened the yippie email.

My heart stopped beating for a long moment. Who cares if I checked it every day, twice a day. Three or six times a day on the weekends, if there was nothing ever there?

I rejected the fact I would be disappointed at the emptiness. I would be elated. It meant she wasn't interested in meeting me again.

Well, truth be told neither was I.

I rubbed a hand over my eyes before taking a long sip of wine for courage. With a tap on the touch pad, the account opened. My heart stopped.

One new email. Subject line: Happiest Cabin Invoice. The email was short and sweet and only said a confirmation for a future stay would be sent shortly. No signature line. No contact information. Attached was a pdf.

I nearly choked on my wine as I read it.

It was an actual invoice. Line item by line item of debits and credits with totals and balance due. As I read each item, dampness spread between my legs and my body flushed with excitement.

The Name of the Company Happiest Mountain Cabin had a slogan of Happy pearls means happy people. I wasn't sure what it meant until I noticed the Acceptable payment of terms. Apparently, I could pay by Pearl Diving or Botty Thumping. It didn't take a genius to figure out the double meanings.

I shifted in my chair as I read the descriptions. It matched her verbal accounting she provided that first night on the porch.

Four hundred and fifty dollars per night. One pro-rated night at one hundred and twenty-six dollars. One hundred dollars to fix the pane I broke to get into the cabin in the first place. Fifty dollars for wood I used to stay warm at night. Ninety dollars for lunches and dinners which had a fifty percent discount applied.

At the bottom of the column was two percent interest per day. Which brought what I owed to a stunning two thousand eight hundred and seventy-eight dollars.

"Dammit," I muttered. The interest was my own bloody fault. Why on earth did I give her that idea?

With another deep inhale, I continued reading the column for debits. There was no doubt this mystery women was experienced. Every time I thought she couldn't possibly humiliate me more, she found a way. She wasn't even present and I was still embarrassed and horny.

Each spanking was listed on its own line along with the amount collected. A massage was credited for twenty-five dollars. Fifty dollars for one morning of face fucking and one hundred fifty dollars for two face fuckings with a cock.

My face turned beet red, and I squeezed my thighs together.

"Unfucking believable." How dare she only credit me seventy-five dollars for fucking my face with a cock she strapped to my mouth. Not once, but twice. Seriously, overcharging for services and crediting pennies in return for services performed?

I paced the room. My body didn't care at the unfair rates. The memory of kneeling before her as she rode the silicon cock in my mouth made me wet. Watching her pussy as it took the toy deep inside until it filled her. Her slick center pressed against my nose. Her juices sliding over my face as her orgasm built.

This was not the time to think with my cunt. I paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again. This is not what I wanted. It was not a fair accounting.

It left a balance of two thousand two hundred fourteen to be paid. It would take almost eighteen days to pay for it just with my as. Was that how she really wanted me to pay it all?

Or maybe it was a combination of fucking my face and taking it out on my ass. Averaging one normal face fuck, one with a cock and one hundred twenty-five hand spankings a day, it would still take about nine days to pay off the balance.

Was she really wanting me to be with her for nine straight days to repay the debt? Maybe I added wrong. And when was she expecting payment?

I quickly returned to the table to re-read the invoice. The balance was indeed two thousand two hundred fourteen, but the due date was TDB.

Another line item swam into focus. Training - three-day trial, no cost.

Three-day trial? What did that mean? Did she charge her sluts for training? That was never mentioned.

I slammed the laptop shut and locked it back in the safe. This was not going to happen. I could pretend I just never received the email. She would never know.

No need to reply.

Half an hour later, my kitchen was spotless. The pots and pans sparkled after being attacked with soap and extra hot water. My hands were pink and throbbing, but it didn't keep the images of me kneeling naked before my mistress from racing through my mind.

By the time I stripped down for bed my pussy was drenched and ached for attention. I was almost panting from the memories of being spanked. I pulled out my trusty pink vibrator. It was smaller than my mistress's cock, but hopefully it would satisfy me.

Despite how wet my pussy was, I spread a nice cool gel over the vibe before sliding it inside me. Imagining my mistress slowly fucking my cunt with her massive cock.

"Please, more. Fill my cunt." I moaned into the silent room, spreading my legs wider begging my imaginary mistress to fuck me.

I turned the vibrator on high and fucked myself fast and hard as I imagined her ramming into me. Her hand landing on my ass again and again. I arched up off the bed.

"Fuck, yes!"

The small toy was almost completely inside me. My muscles clenched around it, wanting more. I turned the vibration down to half speed as I continued to imagine licking my mistress's slit. Kissing her gently, blowing warm air against her clit.

My pussy pulsated rhythmically as my tongue tingled from licking her juices, savoring the sweet nectar. The way her clit swelled as I suctioned my lips around the little nub.

I whimpered as my second orgasm flowed slowly.

It was not as satisfying as the first and neither were as good as mistress's strap-on. Her faux cock just spoiled me for anything smaller.

I'd have to get a bigger dildo to help put out the fire the invoice started.

*****

After a nearly sleepless night interspersed with dreams of being strapped to the bed as my mistress fucked my face or my ass, I jumped into a lukewarm shower. The water only momentarily cooled my overactive imagination.

As I finished rubbing soap over my body, I imagined her ordering me to cool down. I removed the shower head and turned it to the hard jet spray setting before aiming it directly at my breasts.

When my imaginary mistress said that wasn't good enough, I turned the facet to cold. Ice cold pinpricks pounded against my tits, and I moved the spray to focus on my hard nubs. I moaned at the sensations rippling through my body from my own torture.

It wasn't enough, my slutty body craved more. I moved the spray down over my chest and torso spreading my legs wide. My hand shook as I took aim at my throbbing pussy. The hard ice spray hit my labia, and I gasped in surprise. I spread my lips wide, aiming the water directly at my clit.

I whimpered as the urge to cum, faded. Not satisfied that I chased the urge away for long, I aimed the spray at my vagina. Any thought of cumming was ruined as the iced spay pounded into my vagina and back over my clit and pussy lips.

Yesterday I may have failed, but today, today was a new day. The frigid shower would wash it away.

This was not something I wanted to pursue. I needed to leave it where it was. In the past. A one off. Today was the day I would not check the email. Shower, coffee, work. In that order. No deviation. Screw the verbal contract.

It was Friday the thirteenth, and I would resist temptation. Nothing good ever came from Friday the thirteenth. But as I marched into my office, I vowed today was the day I changed that.

The morning passed slowly. My mind was foggy from the constant effort to avoid things that were best left in the past. With Jamie out on assignment somewhere and Agnes leaving early to pick up her daughter and grandkids at the airport the silence in the office seeped in.

The lines of account data on the screen blurred. They held no interest because no reports were due. There wasn't even a staff or client meeting to break up the afternoon. I fought to read the research on the monitor.

It may have taken almost a week for my sane brain to kick in, but that was blown to smithereens by one lousy email. Any down time and my mind drifted unchecked. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to return to the cabin.

But the email lulled me into opening the door I'd seal shut with five layers of duct tape.

Every day, several times a day, up til Monday anyway, I'd check trespslt45@yippie. com. Each check-in revealed nothing and made my heart sink a little more. I stopped checking not because it hurt to see an empty inbox, but because I didn't want to see her again. And until last night, I thought I was succeeding. But now what?

The invoice and all the details evoked one memory after another. I knew it sat there waiting for me to return, like a scab you couldn't help but pick at. I wouldn't check it again.

The hint of a confirmation email for a future rendezvous poked at me. My curiosity always got me in trouble, even when we were kids. But it wasn't always her curiosity to know why. It was really Jamie's fault he broke his arm because he was curious what was in the overgrown cave. Not that she hadn't wanted to know too, but somehow, she took the blame for going too far in wondering about the whys and hows.

With a grunt, I pulled up the calendar for the afternoon. Hoping a last-minute urgent meeting would magically appear. It was just as empty as it was when I first started my day. With a heavy sigh, I finally threw in the towel. Work was just not going to happen.

My body hummed every time I thought about the invoice, and I felt perpetually hot. My mind dove headfirst into the rabbit hole where all paths ended back at the cabin and my few days as a slut trying to pay off my debt.

Before the evening rush hour started, I was back in my apartment charging my new vibrator that the sales woman at Adam and Eve raved about. I just needed something bigger. Something to take the edge off, although at this point, I wondered if a few orgasms would be enough.

According to the sales woman, the whole line of Lovense products were top notch. Quiet, comfortable, and, according to her, bonus points for long distance remote control. I was sure I didn't need a remote control. I wasn't going to give that kind of power to the mystery woman.

"Nope," I muttered at my empty apartment.

The Mission would fill me up nicely. My new toy, my memories, and nothing else. No need to bring her back into existence.

I opened a new bottle of Camartina and poured a glass as I waited for the vibrator to charge. My pussy grew damp just thinking about it pounding inside me from a random pattern on the app. Or obeying her order to entertain her by putting the suction cup of the mission on the cabin window. I could almost hear my red ass smacking against the glass as I impaled myself on the dildo as she watched randomly changing the pattern and intensity.

With a shake of my head, I curled up on my bed with my wine and laptop. Opening an incognito browser, I went to browse the Lovense products. Some of them were supposed to be quiet enough that if worn in in public, no one could hear it. I could imagine her ordering me to put a vibrator in for the day or while running errands. The thought of never knowing when she was going to activate it almost had me panting.

"Dammit," I muttered when the app showed the Mission was still charging. It was barely at fifty percent.

I pulled out the pink vibrator, but just looking at it made me unsatisfied. No, I would just have to wait until the Mission was ready.

I took another sip of wine and gave into my nagging curiosity.

The inbox still only had the invoice. I didn't need to read it again. I had memorized every little detail down to who sent it (Padrona), the acceptable payments (face fucking or hand spanking), to a free three-day slut trial.

Confirmation for the next payment would arrive shortly. What would that entail? Would there be a due date? How long would she make me wait?

The invoice was so detailed on what I owed, it made me wonder what the confirmation would hold. My hand shook slightly as I checked on my new vibrator, wondering when the confirmation would arrive.

*****

Monday morning came way too soon. My pussy was red and puffy from the amount of attention it received over the weekend. After the confirmation arrived late Friday evening, my imagination kicked into overdrive. I couldn't get off enough. But no matter how many times I came, they were never quite fulfilling.

The new vibrator wasn't hard enough, long enough, or thick enough. Its main flaw was that it was not attached to the hips of a tall, fit, blond goddess who knew how to rock my world.

"Fuck," I muttered, walking toward a coffee shop down the street from my office.

Being dominated by a mysterious mistress was something I couldn't reach on my own. And as much as I wanted to ignore it, the confirmation email just took it to a whole new level.

Currently, it gnawed at me that it was sitting in my inbox -- unanswered. The reservation date was for six weeks from last Friday. I had memorized every detail. Whomever the woman was, she was not only smart but had a sense of humor.

According to the attachment, one Cunnus was book for the Troia Cabin for three days. Or translated from Latin and Italian, one cunt had booked the Slut cabin for introductory slut training and the next installment. The going rate was still four hundred fifty dollars a night, but she was gracious enough to abide by the original discount for meals. That only added one hundred thirty-five to the bill, plus two percent interest per day.

What really turned kept my imagination engaged and fueling my libido, was what would be covered in the two-day Introduction to Slut Training. Which, I was apparently to pay the going rate of three hundred ninety dollars. Or well, my ass was according to the acceptable payment terms.

The total balance from the earlier invoice plus the upcoming stay was four thousand two hundred one dollars.

Not for the first time I wondered why the stay was only three days. If she had real life commitments, then why should I have to pay for a limited stay? I was still debating on how to respond. Surely, we could negotiate a discount rate if nothing else.

This whole thing was setting a precedence for being overcharged and ensuring I'd never get out of her debt.

"Double espresso, Charlsie," the barista yelled out.

I grimaced at yet another nickname from the now purple hair twenty-year-old. Every time I came in, she'd find another way to mangle my name. Funny she never gave one to my brother, just me. I grabbed my cup and hastily retreated from the café.

Why was I even considering negotiating terms with her at all? I shook my head. I just needed to stay the course and not respond. All I had to do was ignore the instructions to reply and change the booking status from Pending to Confirmed. Or provide an alternate date that would work.

Ignore it all. Shut the door. Move on.

If only my body wouldn't feel like it was on fire as my mind played out the different "slut training" objectives.

I took a deep breath to face the day, grateful the front desk was unmanned by eagle eye Agnes. The lobby was quiet. The conference room was dark. With a quick pivot, I walked down the front hallway to avoid Agnes who was most likely making coffee in the breakroom. Greg was talking to someone on the phone as I passed the cubes in full retreat to my office.

The last hurtle was avoiding my brother until I had time to turn my focus from between my legs back to my brain. His door was open, but the office was empty. Unfortunately, my peaceful retreat didn't get past logging into my computer.

"Look what the cat drug in," Jamie said, sliding into the guest chair.

He was too bright, and bushy tailed for a Monday.

"Good weekend?" I asked, trying to focus my mind on the present.

"Yup. Me and Mel had a beautiful day and a half with no kid."

I quickly raised my hand. "Enough said. Not asking for details."

A lock of hair fell over his forehead when he tilted it to one side. "Still not sleeping well?"

I took a sip trying to stall and find an answer to head off a deeper dive into my current state of mind. "I'm okay. Just don't need to hear about your sex life. I'll take it you had fun, and we can move along."

He chuckled. "Sounds like you may need some sex in your life."

"Nope," I shook my head. "Not having this conversation. You keep your sex life to yourself, and I'll keep mine to myself."

"Oh. So, you are having sex." He sat forward squinting. "With a girl? Or -"

"Stop right there. Nothing to tell. And I'm fine."

He studied me for way too long. I shifted in my chair trying not to look like I'd been fantasizing about being spanked, about a butt plug being stuffed in my ass, as I fucked a vibrator on and off most of the weekend.

With a sigh, he sat back. "Not to harp on it, but you don't really look fine, sis. You know, I'm here if you need to talk something out. It won't go anywhere."

Tears stung the corners of my eye. He was such a good guy, but there was no way I was confiding in him, or anyone else for that matter, about the mystery woman, much less my kinky escapade.

"I know. And if there was anything to tell other than a few nights of less than stellar sleep because my mind won't shut up about my cases, I would tell you."

His brown eyes bore into me as if he was searching for the truth I would not speak of. With a slow nod, he straightened up. "Ok. We have a couple of potential clients coming in shortly. One is a due diligence case for a company merger and another is domestic."

"I'll pull the intake forms. Depending on the domestic, maybe time to see if Greg can fly on his own."

"Agreed. How's Miller coming along?"

"Slowly. On the surface things appear ok, but," I shook my head, "something feels off. I'm going to need another week to be sure one way or the other."

"Sounds good." Jamie stood, running a manicured hand over his shirt, ironing out invisible wrinkles. "I'll let you get back to it. See you at ten."

"Great." I gave him my best I'm happy all is rosy with the world smile.

By ten o'clock, I was beginning to wonder if the issue with the Miller case was the case itself or my lack of attention. It felt like I was reading the same lines repeatedly.

Maybe I should take the domestic. Getting out in the field occasionally would keep the monotony of desk work from stiffening my brain. One thing I learned over the years was that if you were patient enough people would always make mistakes. One just had to wait, rendezvousing with their lover during a messy divorce or playing football with your kid while out on worker's comp.

I locked my computer before picking up a notebook and grabbed my favorite pen. The whole dog and pony show was not me, Jamie excelled at that. I always preferred the debates about details to ferret out the truth that typically came later in the process.

But after a fruitless morning, maybe talking to strangers about why they should hire us and not the McNaulty brothers down the street was a better option then getting nowhere on finances. Jamie stepped out of his office at the same time.

"Ready?" He asked, knowing how much I hated the initial meetings.

"As I'll ever be," I replied, walking past him as we headed toward the conference room gallows.

The two client meetings managed to keeping my mind off the personal email temporarily. Both were pretty routine. And as I suspected, the messy divorce with potential husband cheating was something Greg would be able to take on. I did toy with the idea of keeping the case, if nothing else than to get me back out in the field and brush up on my skills. In the end, we decided it was time to see how he handled a case on his own.

By the time we wrapped up the second meeting and started the paperwork, I was exhausted. I guess I didn't people well. I preferred to watch, or in some cases, be the entertainment.

I sat at my desk transferring my handwritten notes into the electronic files. There was just something about writing down details the old fashion way, with pen and paper, that kept my mind more engaged. Once I saved the files, I pulled up my calendar for the week.

Luckily, there were few meetings scheduled. Some were Jamie's follow-ups and a couple referrals later in the week. An internal training on Wednesday and a status meeting on Thursday. It left me with plenty of time to complete the Miller merger and start a deeper dive into the Bradshaw Brothers.

I changed the month to see what was on the books in six weeks. The days on the booking confirmation were open. But if I was going to hike in, I'd need another day on either side. Maybe she would provide an address. It would be easier to drive in and would definitely allow for more time together.

Or I could just track the SUV and get all that information myself. I punched the power button on the computer. "Christ, Charlie. Get it together."

The moment I left the office my mind wandered. It had no filter and plucked out a memory. One where my face was between her legs as I licked her sweet pussy, making my tongue tingle. Her fingers gripped my hair as I sucked her clit. Her head thrown back, lips parted as she screamed out her orgasm had me fidgeting in the driver's seat.

I tried to concentrate on not getting in an accident. Rush hour was just beginning, but it was already crawling. By the time I swung my car into the garage, every part of my body felt hot. It took me a long moment to stop gripping the steering wheel.

This was crazy. I don't know what her hold over me was, but the more I tried to run from it, the more my mind wanted to go back. Every part of my body was vibrating with need.

I was in control. I could walk away.

Calmly, I released my death grip. I closed the garage door and didn't run to the safe. I'm calm. I'm in control. I chanted over and over as I changed into comfy shorts and a T-shirt.

I'm calm. I'm in control. I am walking away.

The words were on repeat as I pulled leftovers from the fridge. I set up the table for one.

As my food warmed, I walked into my bedroom to retrieve the laptop. I scooted back on the bed, curling my legs under me as it booted. Just delete the emails. Log in, hit delete, return to normal. Like it never happened.

The white screen popped up and I opened the confirmation email first. I was proud of myself for not opening the attachment. I already knew every detail. It wasn't a legally binding contract. I had no obligation to pay the debt.

I selected the email. The mouse hovered over the trash can. I moved my finger slightly right and tapped. A reply email opened. I typed confirmed. Then hit send.

"Fuck," I said, falling back on the bed

*****

The next couple of days dragged by. There was no reply no matter how often I checked. Guess there really didn't need to be. My confirmation was the last part of the equation.

As I surfed through business accounts, my mind drifted back to the mystery woman. It would be so easy to open Tracer and enter the license plate. I could be reading all about her in a matter of seconds.

It wasn't just that we agreed to anonymity, but I liked the mystery of it. The lack of knowing. The challenge of figuring it out without modern technology. The thrill of trusting someone I didn't know, of handing her complete control so I didn't have to think. The doing without the thought of right or wrong or safe versus danger. Of pleasing her, seeing the pride in her eyes when I excelled at the training she provided.

Jesus, what was wrong with me?

It was going to be a long five weeks at this rate. I jumped up to get coffee hoping that moving would quiet the daydreams even if it wasn't as strenuous as my runs the last couple of days.

Agnes stepped into the breakroom just as I turned to leave.

"Good morning, Agnes. Coffee?"

"Good morning, Charolette." Agnes was one of the very few who refused to call me by a boy's name, as she called it. She was impeccably dressed in a blue blazer and matching skirt. A gold chain laid flat against the white blouse. "Jamie is running late and wondered if you could meet with the lawyer from Rossi and Mancini.

"Is he ok?"

"He's fine, but he's stuck behind some big accident and has no clue when he can get in. Says the whole road is closed down."

"Can I get the intake form?"

Agner shook her perfectly coiffed white head. "There isn't one. She made the appointment a few days ago. Said she would explain when she came in. Doesn't want a paper trail and it's strictly confidential." Agnes did air quotes around strictly. The look on her face left me no doubt that she thought the whole cloak and dagger stuff was over the top.

"Oh, and Miss Rossi must be back in her office by nine. There's no wiggle room."

Something niggled at me, but I couldn't place a finger on what bothered me. I frowned as the throbbing in the back of my head started. That's what I needed. A headache, a drama queen, and too many weeks before going off the grid again.

"Okay. Let me grab a pad. I'll meet her in the conference room."

There was always room for more clients. But a last minute appointment without any information and squeezing in a meeting for their convenience just annoyed me.

I paused to curb my irritation at a lawyer on the other side of the door. It was a bigger law firm that we were used to getting. It could be quite the account if I played this right. The referrals alone could make our year more than successful.

I took a deep breath and pushed opened the door from the private hallway.

In the center of the room was a long cherry wood table. Six chairs around the table were all neatly pushed in. The only sign that someone might be in the room was a black leather briefcase on the far end of the table.

I took a half step into the room. A sound from the right caught my attention.

The bright lights of the room fell dimmed to a narrow spot about six feet away. A woman with tailored black slacks and Italian leather shoes was closing the blinds on the conference room window.

My breath caught in my throat as the room was suddenly closed off from prying eyes. When she turned towards me the sparkle in her green eyes darkened. One blond eyebrow rose, and her full lips turned up in an enigmatic smile.

"How did you find me?" I whispered.