Her Master Returns (Dark BDSM Erotica) Read Free Page B

attempt at blackmail – just a
simple command. And Emily knew without doubt that she would be
there despite all her resolve to ignore the message.
    Why?
    She didn’t analyse it. You might just as well have asked her
why she had to breathe – it was a necessity – simple as
that.
    For the rest of the day it was constantly on Emily’s mind. She
kidded herself that she would defy the command and leave at her
normal time, but in her heart she knew she would do no such thing.
She excused herself from the arranged lunch on the pretext of
pressing work. Instead she went out and bought a new set of clothes
so she had something to change into – just in case. She also bought
some toiletries and a basic first aid kit which she placed in her
Chanel bag to join the essentials she kept in there.
    All through the afternoon Emily was restless, constantly
checking her watch. Five o’clock came then five-thirty then six.
She watched as the top floor emptied but made no attempt to leave.
By six-thirty she was panicking and thought to make a dash, but the
only place she went was to the restroom where she ensured
everything was in order with regard to her bowels – again just in
case – then she spent five minutes fixing her make-up and hair,
even though she knew it would end up a mess. Her last act was to
send a text message to Les to say she would be working late –
probably very late. She wondered if she would actually go
home.
    At the appointed time Emily was standing at the elevator,
Chanel bag in hand. She didn’t call for it. There was no need. The
digital display showed that it was on its way. Her breathing became
a bit laboured as she took on board the situation and gazed at the
numbers as they steadily increased, announcing the elevator’s
pending arrival at the top floor. She was feeling flushed and
flustered, anxious yet expectant. She hated herself for buckling so
easily – obeying the summons without question. But there was also
excitement and wetness between the legs, for deep in her heart she
knew what she craved. Emily swallowed the lump that formed in her
throat and wiped away the sheen of perspiration from her brow. She
felt like a teenager of on a big date. She felt so incredibly
alive.
    Then the bell dinged softly and the doors slid
open.
    WHAT!!!
    Emily stared in shock and disappointment at a tall and
exceedingly well built man. He was standing at the entrance, a
formidable figure, dressed in a very expensive black suit. He had
more of a continental than British look about him, with olive
coloured skin on his freshly shaved face that still hinted of dark
manly stubble. Italian like his clothing was the conclusion Emily
reached as she gawped at the towering hulk before her. His shirt
was white and immaculately pressed. His tie was black and funereal.
He wore dark sunglasses that prevented Emily from seeing his eyes,
and his jet black hair was slicked back severely. This wasn’t Her
Nemesis as Emily had expected, that ruggedly handsome dark haired
hunk that Emily had called Master – but if anything this man looked
scarier. Mafia hit-man was the initial conclusion and a shiver ran
the length of Emily’s spine as she formed this impression. Then she
shivered again as she made her own alternative assessment, electing
on a Greek god, as was this classical scholar’s want. And if any
man embodied it then this was the one – here stood ‘Hades’ god of
the underworld – harbinger of doom and death.
    She gazed at him, definitely wary and somewhat confused,
wondering what on earth was going on. He probably gazed in return
but with the shades it was difficult to tell. There was a frozen
moment then he stepped aside to let Emily in. It was then that
Emily spotted Her Nemesis Master who had been standing behind this
larger man, concealed by his massive frame. The man who had used
her a fortnight before, leaned forward to push the ‘hold’ button,
all the while grinning at Emily. The woman stalled, her