A Unique Gift – Chapter 8

It had been a week since Jack had received the magical collar from his grandfather and so far he had only used it on his teacher Miss Jameson. He had been waiting to see if there were any consequences to his actions but it seemed he was in the clear. He had seen her most days at college and noticed that while she was still a bitch she seemed kinder towards him than she had before.

He noticed she would look at him in class when she thought he was looking and would quickly look away when he looked towards her. He had been checking out her ass as she was bent over one day, enjoying remembering it naked, when he swore he had seen the outline of the base of the butt plug she had taken sitting between her cheeks and pressing out the material of her pants. She had stood back up too quickly for him to be sure but he wondered if she had now taken to wearing it to work. As he sat in her class trying to suppress the erection he was now sporting thanks to his imagination he thought about tomorrow.

It was Friday, which would make tomorrow Saturday, and he had invited Abby to his house in the morning. She was his only female friend and his best friend. She was pretty and had a good body but thanks to her small breasts and weird personality she was as much an outcast as Jack was which was why they were such good friends. Despite her qwirkyness as she liked to call it, she had some how ended up in a relationship with a rather normal guy.

Jack had decided to tell her about the collar. Not only because it was killing him not being able to talk to anyone about it but because he wanted her help on ideas of how to use it. So he got home, went to sleep early and waited for Abby to arrive the next morning which she did exactly on time. It was one of her quirks, always arriving on time and if she was ever early she would wait outside until the exact minute she had agreed to be somewhere, even though Jack would have been happy to let her in earlier.

“Morning,” she chirped cheerfully as she entered his house.

“Morning, want some coffee?” Jack asked redundantly. Abby rarely went without some form of caffeinated drink in her hand.

“Of course,” she replied. He poured her a cup and handed it to her. She took a sip before staring at Jack. “So why the urgent meeting so early in the morning?”

Jack looked at her before answering. She had brown hair with matching brown eyes and intense stare that most people found unnerving but Jack found endearing. Her make up was done flawlessly as always, her eyeliner in perfect wing tips. Jack knew she always did her make up to cover up the few acne scars she had which she hated although, unless she pointed them out, most people wouldn’t be able to see them.

She had on her black denim jacket which was like a second skin, she always had it on. Usually with matching black jeans which today was no exception. Her style seemed a mix of goth meets librarian meets hipster. Jack always thought she could be one of the popular girls if she dressed the part but she wasn’t interested. It was part of why he was best friends with her, she was genuine to a fault. He took a deep breath before telling her why had invited her over.

“I got a gift from my grandfather, a collar,” he started.

“A collar? That’s a weird gift from a family member,” Abby interrupted with a chuckle.

“It’s not just any collar, it’s magical. It makes anyone who wears it my slave for twelve hours,” Jack continued. Abby looked at him before bursting out laughing.

“Good one, what’s next a pair of slippers that let me fly?” She asked sarcastically.

“I’m serious. Here look at it,” he said handing her the collar. She took it and turned it over in her hands.

“Looks like a normal old collar to me, I have loads of similar ones at home,” Abby replied dismissively.

“I swear to you I’m telling the truth,” Jack pressed on.

“How does it work?” Abby asked humouring him.

“I pressed my thumb to the pendant and it bound it to me, then anyone who wears it after that automatically becomes my slave,” he explained.

“What like this?” Abby asked as she pressed her thumb to the pendant. Just as before when Jack had done it the pendant glowed blue and the light wrapped around Abby’s thumb.

“Wait-” Jack began but it was too late.

“Oh wow, neat trick,” Abby exclaimed looking for a light or something hidden in the collar.

“It’s not a trick, it’s now bound to you,” Jack explained.

“What so anyone that wears this now becomes my slave?” Abby asked.

“Yes but only if they put it in willingly and only for twelve hours,” Jack reminded her.

“Put it on then,” Abby grinned holding out the collar.

“Why would I do that?” Jack asked.

“To prove it works. I still don’t believe you so put it in and prove it,” Abby grinned.

“Why do I have to wear it? Why can’t you, that’d prove it too,” Jack argued.

“Because I know you and if I put it on you’d probably just make me some sex slave for twelve hours,” Abby teased. Jack rolled his eyes in dismissal although considering how he had treated Miss Jameson she wasn’t far wrong. Not that he would do that to Abby though, even if he had always had a crush on her she was in a relationship and he respected that.

“Not happening,” Jack replied shaking his head.

“Make you a deal, if you wear it and it works, you’ll be my slave for today but in exchange I’ll wear it tomorrow for you,” Abby offered. Jack paused at that proposal, it would be fun to have Abby under his control for the day and he wasn’t too worried about what Abby would make him do.

“Alright deal, I’ll put it on now and you come back tomorrow and then it’s your turn,” he smiled taking the collar from her. He had been wondering all week how Miss Jameson has felt under the control of the collar and was curious about experiencing it himself, not from any desire to be controlled but just to see what it was like and he couldn’t think of anyone else he would trust to be in control other than Abby.

 

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Personal Assistant – Chapter 2 – Sadie

This day settles, as usual, into our working routine, talking as we go and me stealing long looks of her whenever I can. Our conversation lands on her family and she mentions that her and her sisters always did what their father said or they would get a “switching.” For clarity I asked, “You mean switched, with a switch?” She nodded and I added, “That was strict, how long did that go on for?”

She matter-of-factly said, “Well into our teens I suppose, really until I moved out I guess. Did you want the ethnicity too?”

My mind stumbled a bit, first over getting “switched” as a young adult then “ethnicity?”

“The data, do you want it per ethnic group too?” she asked seeing my confusions.

“Oh yes, ethnic groups . . . he switched you as teenagers?”

Then with a thoughtful expression she said, “Well, just spankings mostly and only when we deserved it. But if we were bad . . .”

I couldn’t help wanting to know more, how could anyone strike this angel? “What would your mother do?”

“She would try not to upset daddy like the rest of us, I suppose.”

She was so calm, so natural talking about this as she worked, while my mind was bouncing between thoughts going 90 miles an hour. “Did your dad spank your mother too?”

This brought a smile to her face as she recollected, staring off at nothing she said, “Never that we knew but my sisters and I would often wonder what went on behind their bedroom door.”

Trying not to be too interested, “If you don’t mind me asking, how many times have you been ‘switched’?”

“Oh goodness, more than I could count. Although, often enough, it would be daddy just saying,” as she imitated a low male voice, “‘Don’t make me go outside a cut a switch’ . . . even though we all knew right where he kept it.”

This whole story was driving me crazy and my imagination was running wild, “Where?”

“Oh, on top of the refrigerator. He ‘never’ went out to cut a new one.” It was like her and her sisters had discovered dad’s big secret.

“Spanking and switching all seems so harsh,” I proposed.

“Umm, I don’t think so sir. You do something bad and after you get your spanking it’s over. You get to move on; it’s clean, simple, then done.”

Even though I was sure there was nothing sexual going on between her father and the girls, I had to change the subject just to get the image of this sweet little thing bent over with her tiny ass waiting to receive its due. She hadn’t intended it to be but this was probably the most erotic real life story that I had ever heard. As I thought it through, since I couldn’t get it out of my head, it also brought her accommodating and respectful behaviors into some clarity. I had met many “people pleasers” in my life but this had more of a “submissive” air about it. I have to admit I don’t know much about that kind of thing but it certainly added a whole other level of excitement to my absolute infatuation of this young beautiful creature.

I could never be degrading or dehumanizing like what I read about Dom’s in erotic literature or see in porn, that just not me. But I did decide to become a bit stricter of a boss to see how that went. I started being more concise and more demanding in my instructions, and asking for big tasks in limited time. It was interesting seeing that she was quick to please and seemed even more satisfied in her job with each accomplishment of the tasks. I also found as I became bossier, Sadie started opening up to me more and became a little more touchy-feely when we were physically close. Just small things, like touching my arm when she spoke or leaning in while looking at the same paperwork or computer screen. One time she thought I looked stressed-out and got up from her desk to come around to my side and rubbed my neck. Needless to say I was in heaven being that she could make my heart race with just a look, let alone a neck rub.

I knew she didn’t currently have a boyfriend from previous conversations but I wanted to know more. These recent insights made her even more desirable, how could she not be attached? So while we were working one morning, I started with, “Sadie, may I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes sir,” she said without even looking up.

“Have you had many boyfriends?”

She stopped what she was doing and thought, nodding as she said, “I don’t know about ‘many’ but I’ve dated a number of boys.”

Trying to get a couple of layers deeper I asked, “What happened, why aren’t you dating any of them now?”

“They just didn’t click, I guess.”

Okay, I wanted more, “What didn’t click exactly, weren’t they nice?”

Now she had a look of concentration on her face, which I found adorable of course, “I don’t know really, I suppose they were too nice.”

“Too nice? How can somebody be too nice?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe ‘nice’ isn’t the right word,” she said. “None of them seemed to know what they wanted. They all worked real hard at making me like them but that isn’t what I wanted I guess.”

One more layer I thought, so I asked, “What is it you want in a man?”

“Someone who can at least tell me what it is they want. Like you, in your business. I like working for you because you know what you want. You’re clear, it makes sense.”

“I can be tough to work for,” I said trying to look all confident on the outside while feeling like an adolescent bowl of Jello on the inside because she referenced me in her description of what she liked.

Looking straight at me with a big smile on her face she said, “No sir, you’re great.”

I had uncovered as many layers as my pounding heart could stand so I returned the conversation to work, or so I tried. She had now become the most interesting along with being the most beautiful person I knew. My eyes would drift away her but my mind couldn’t.

 

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Murder Mystery Weekend – Chapter 3

Just before we got to her apartment, Teresa stopped, and pointed to a park bench.

“Can we sit here for a minute?” It was a lovely spot, opposite a pretty little park. The late summer day was bright and sunny, without the excessive humidity that had tortured us through the month of July. Yet I felt a sudden chill.

We sat down together. Teresa slowly swept her long hair back, and turned to face me.

“Colin, I have to tell you something.” she said. Normally, I’m a pretty optimistic guy, but those words sounded like the footsteps of doom. I swallowed, and nodded.

“I really, really appreciate your help with this.” she continued. “And I’m looking forward to seeing how it will all turn out. But I have to tell you now: this weekend won’t be about you and me. Do you understand?”

I didn’t understand at all, but I nodded as if I did. Teresa was watching me closely – did I mention that she was very bright?

“We aren’t going to be getting back together this weekend, Colin. I’m going to be very busy running the game, for one thing. And then there’s Lena to look after – she won’t know anybody else but me, at first. You could help me out there – be nice to her.”

“I want you to make this long weekend about you. Have fun. Solve the puzzles. Don’t spend your time flirting with me, or going out of your way to be helpful. You don’t have to try to impress me. I want you to just relax and enjoy yourself.”

“Flirt with the other women. Sleep with them.” Teresa saw the look of surprise in my eyes. “I mean it, Colin. We’ve always been frank with each other on that subject. I don’t want you to think about me romantically this weekend. Get drunk, if you want. Have a fling. Flings.”

– “This is one of the weirdest conversations I’ve ever had.” I said.

Teresa took me by the hand. “Colin, please. This is very important to me: tell me that you understand.”

– “I do. I get it.” I told her.

And I did understand. If I was busy chasing Teresa all weekend, trying to get back together with her, it would interfere with her running the murder mystery. It would also leave me frustrated; she was making it clear.

But I did say that I was an optimist. I understood something else very clearly: Teresa said that we weren’t ‘going to be getting back together this weekend‘. She also said that she didn’t want me to ‘think about her romantically this weekend‘.

Those were her exact words.

Why would she specifically say ‘this weekend’? Not once, but twice. She could have said that there was no chance of us getting back together, ever. Period. But she didn’t.

Which meant that there was hope for us yet.

We parted with a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. Then I went on my way. I waited until she was out of sight before I started to smile.

 

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Personal Assistant – Chapter 1 – Sadie

I have a pretty sweet deal. I’m a professional writer and work from my home office writing grant proposals for nonprofits, schools and businesses. Every so often I get hired on to manage grants or run a capital campaign. I get to set my own schedule and work as hard as I care to. Don’t get me wrong, I work hard for a living, it’s just that I get to do it in my underwear if I choose to.

Lately I’ve had a lot of work and started looking for an assistant, somebody to do research and fact checking. Previously, when I had extra work my wife would support me, but she’s long gone now and I have to hire outside help. I placed an ad in our local paper and got about a dozen calls. There turned out to be some really qualified people available including an out-of-work paralegal and a gal who had spent the last twenty years as a corporate administrative assistant. There were also some recent college grads that just hadn’t found work yet. I could have justified hiring any one of them but nothing really clicked, nobody I was interested in spending my whole day with. Then came Sadie.

During our interview, Sadie said that she took some college classes after she graduated from high school but nothing that had grabbed her interest. She told me she was smart, could write well and was computer literate. I really hoped I nodded at all the right spots during the interview but the truth was I couldn’t take my eyes off her physical beauty. Sadie had eyes that sparkled, light freckles across a nose that scrunched when she smiled with the most perfect small nose and mouth, all framed a little off-center by her one cute dimple. She was small, sleek and slender but not skinny.

She came to her interview in a casually professional pantsuit that accentuated her small hips and tight butt. Her slacks weren’t sexy on their own but draped over her bottom just enough to suggest two small cheeks and the front screamed flat tummy and slender thighs. She could’ve been mistaken for a young teen except for her perfectly firm “c” cup breasts under her blouse that declared her womanhood. She didn’t have near the employment experience of others but the thought of just spending my days in her presence was very alluring. I told her that there were other candidates better suited for the position and gave her the opportunity to convince me. Sadie admitted she had not worked that much but she was a very fast learner. That she would work very hard, was trustworthy, would be committed to the job, and obedient.

“Obedient? Did she say obedient? How odd,” I thought. The more we talked, the more infatuated I became. Being a thirty-something divorcee and Sadie being a young adult, barely, I knew nothing could ever come of it. She must turn the head of every young man that she encounters and probably has her pick. Even though we would always have an employee/employer relationship, it would be so much more enjoyable of a day for me hanging out with Sadie than with any of the other applicants. Maybe less work would get done but definitely more enjoyable, worth every penny I decided. I’m sure my moral compass was skewed but heck! I’m the boss; I can hire and work with anybody I want to!

When I told her, “Okay, I’ll give you a chance,” she lit up like a light bulb. I don’t think I had ever seen a prettier sight. I knew that I had made the right choice, at least for as long as I could afford it. So I took the proverbial boss role and gave her a run-through of my expectations. “I work hard here, people count on me for the funding of some very important programs, blah, blah, blah . . .”

She listened carefully as I told her that I am very particular and want things done a certain way. She responded with, “Yes sir, I will do whatever you want me to do, however you want me to do it.”

“Oh my naïve young thing, you don’t know how I wished that were true” I thought to myself but I loved her enthusiasm.
Sadie started work early the next day. It had been hot and she wore a pretty summer smock with a belt at her slim waist. It was a simple floral print but on her it took my breath away. I figured out on that first day that it wasn’t going to be how much work she could get done but rather I much I could get could done. Our desks butt up against each other’s, face to face, because that’s how the office has always been set up. There is a nice adjacent conference room to complete my home office. That first day I hoped she hadn’t notice but I could hardly keep my eyes off of her.

As time went on, she turned into quite an asset. Her proofing and fact checking were great and when we met with clients in the conference room, Sadie turned out to be an artist. She was courteous, welcoming and could make everybody feel at ease while charming their socks off, she was a natural.

Conversation seems to come easily between us. We talked comfortably as we worked, even though when I told her she didn’t need to address me so formally and to call me by my first name, she answered with, “Yes sir.”

I learned she had two sisters, one older and one younger, and she even though she grew up in a pretty strict household, she loved her family very much. When it came to work she was true to her word; she worked hard and was very committed. I don’t think I’ve ever looked so forward to starting work each day, I was enjoying her immensely.
Every day I would look forward to see what she would wear. Sadie always wore appropriate clothing but she’s just so damned good-looking. She could even make her oversized sweater look sexy, its bulky-ness only showed off her dainty-ness. Today it was a sheer top with spaghetti straps, leaving her shoulders mostly bare. Her skin is flawless and her narrow shoulders transition to a beautifully long neck. There seems to be some new element of perfection to discover about her each day.

 

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