Rennoch
03-03-2006, 10:49 AM
hmm... if money is absolutely no object, then i'd want to meet kari byron IRL - just because she's such an awsome person :)
i'd also prolly want to completely redo my home (love it, just needs a few repairs, thanks canadian winters), and refurnish the basement as a "fun room" :P
in terms of people, like in your example, that you're interested in sessioning with... i guess my "list" would hold only a few names...
chelsea blue+taylor st.claire (they really seem to play off each other during sessions, it's almost like a "manly one-up" thing ^_^)
starr chandler, always had a soft spot for her. and a hard one.
this girl that hangs out at a coffee shop near my house, has (fruit terminology coming) an orange ass like lady joanne in her shoots with smother.de. heck lady joanne would be good for this one too :P
and finally... jeanie from smother.com she's very charming.
Strict Susan
03-03-2006, 2:01 PM
If I won the lottery....
It was ten years ago that she had won the lottery. Few people had ever picked up such a large amount of money, and few still had managed to keep it quiet from friends and acquaintances. A quadruple rollover was unusual, and it was even more unusual for a single winner to be collecting it all.
She had turned down all the offers of investment assistance from the lottery organisers, left her job without a word of explanation to anyone, and bought the huge country house in its own vast grounds that she had always wanted.
Finding the right staff was, of course, a major problem. Finding the workmen to do the conversions she wanted was even more difficult. For a woman alone, it seemed, no one took her very seriously even when she was able to demonstrate that she had more than enough money to pay for everything she wanted.
Eventually, she went abroad to find the people she wanted and needed, finding them in some of the most unlikely countries and the most unlikely places in the most unlikely countries.
Any sort of work permit for most of them was out of the question, but she quickly discovered that money, properly applied in the right directions as untraceable bundles of cash could work wonders. The building modifications were done, the additions completed, the fixtures and fitting bought and installed, and the workmen returned to their native countries with no one any the wiser although many people somewhat richer.
Now, nine years after completion of her work, she was able to sit on the terrace sipping an expensive cocktail expertly mixed by one of her maids, and quietly survey the grassy acres that stretched into the distance. It was perfect, but once again she was as bored as she had been so many times over the last nine year.
She sighed. It was time to go out again and find someone. She did not know who, of course, because that would depend firstly on the research that her staff would need to conduct before she started, and secondly on whether she found the person suitable when she had interviewed him. It was an extraordinary amount of effort, but she knew it would be worth it. It was always worth it.
She reached for the bell to summon one of her assistants.
*
“Maria, how are the English lessons going?”
“Very well, thank you Mistress. I believe that no one would know I was not born in Knightsbridge, Mistress.”
Susan smiled. The Polish accent was unmistakable, although it really did not matter. Maria was by far the most efficient of her assistants, and her ability at finding the right candidates for Susan’s requirements was unsurpassed. Also, like all of Susan’s staff, her loyalty was unquestionable.
All of Susan’s staff lived in luxury. Although Susan’s demands could be exacting and her rules precise and inflexible, they had all been carefully chosen for their abilities and particular mental attitude. They were paid huge salaries, but not allowed to draw on them until the end of their five-year contracts, at which time they would be obliged to return to their homes in the east-European home countries where Susan had first found them. In the meantime, they were permitted to purchase anything they wanted as long as it did not involve leaving Susan’s property, or to send up to ten percent of their salary to relatives. Not one of them was inclined to break the rules, knowing that they would at once lose the huge amount of money they had accumulated, and that the authorities in the UK would be less than impressed by their illegal entry and residence in the country.
“Mistress, I have a new candidate.”
“Only one?” Susan’s disappointment was obvious.
“They are not easy to find, Mistress. There are few who meet all the requirements, but I think this one will be perfect.”
“Have you seen him? Will I like him?”
Maria passed a photograph to Susan. She studied it carefully.
“Age?”
“Twenty-three.”
Susan frowned. “He’s rather young. Have you checked him carefully? We don’t want a repetition of number eight.”
“He’s a loner,” confirmed Maria. “No family, few friends and none he is close to. His job is genuine and he is looking for a change. He definitely doesn’t work for the CIA or anything like that, so there is no chance of a repetition of number eight.”
“What did happen to number eight?” Susan asked. “I haven’t seen him around. Is he still here, or did we get rid of him somewhere? Are the CIA still looking for him?”
Maria looked uncomfortable. “He’s still here, Mistress. We think the CIA have assumed that he ran foul of some other agency. They don’t seem to be looking, as far as we can tell. He seems to have settled here rather well, but we are being particularly careful. I take a personal interest.”
Susan smiled. “A personal interest? That’s unusual for you, Maria. What made him appeal to you?”
Maria shrugged. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “He was harder to break than the most of the others. He still tries to resist if he has the chance, so I suppose he was more of a challenge. Of course, he is available to you any time you want him, Mistress.”
“You can keep him for the moment, Maria,” Susan told her. “But tell me more about the new one. How would you recommend we go about it this time? Would abduction or seduction be better? Do we know his preferences? Has he any particular kinks?”
Maria shook her head. “We haven’t been able to find any details of his sexuality. He has had girlfriends, but we haven’t been able to trace any of them. He keeps himself to himself when he’s not working.”
“So how are we going to do it?”
Maria had already worked it all out. “The business centre should be the easiest and safest,” she said. “Abduction is always risky. You remember number ten? We were very lucky not to have serious problems when someone saw it and called the police. Seduction is hit-and-miss if we don’t know his particular likes and dislikes. So the business centre is the surest and safest, particularly as we know he is probably looking for a new job.”
Susan nodded. “I suppose you’re right, as usual. I would much rather use a quicker method. I really am rather bored, but perhaps I’ll go and play with number eight while I’m waiting. You haven’t damaged him?”
“No,” Maria confirmed. “He may be a little sore, but he is all in working order. May I suggest you leave it a few hours, Mistress? I’m afraid I may have been a little over-enthusiastic last night, and he might need a bit longer to recover. I know you do like them to be in perfect condition when you start.”
“That’s fine,” Susan agreed. “I want to relax for a few hours anyway. I’ll see to him after lunch. You have more than enough to do booking a suitable room in a business centre and arranging the job interview. I’m sure you won’t miss him.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Maria inclined her head respectfully and left. She had a great deal of organising to do.
*
The telephone call had been intriguing and had come just at the right time. Michael had been scanning the newspapers for a suitable job and had sent three applications so far without any luck. It was not that his present job did not pay well, it was just that he had lost interest in it. He needed more of a challenge.
He found the address without difficulty, and the woman at the reception desk directed him to room twenty. A new project, they had said on the telephone, a project in which he would play a leading role and in which he would find himself in unusual and challenging positions. It sounded perfect, although the female voice on the telephone had given him no real clue as to exactly what they were looking for.
Outside room twenty of the business centre Michael straightened his tie, flattened his hair, brushed non-existent dandruff from his shoulders, checked his flies, and knocked.
“Come in,” a female voice called.
There were three of them, all female, seated behind desks arranged in a semicircle on the far side of the room. A lone chair was placed in the centre.
“Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”
He sat on the hard chair in the middle of the room. Although he had attended many job interviews before, he was unaccountably nervous, but he answered their questions without hesitation even when they seemed to have little relevance to his work abilities.
When they asked about his family and his hobbies and out-of-work activities he assumed they were simply trying to gain an overall picture of him as a person. They were, after all, trying to find the right person for what sounded to be a difficult and demanding position.
The questions were probing and detailed. He tried to answer honestly. Would he be happy working under a woman? Yes, he did not see that as a problem. Was he flexible? Very, he told them. How did he feel about spending long periods away from his home? He had nothing much to keep him at home, he said. The questions went on and on.
Finally, they asked how soon he would be able to start if he were offered the job. He said that he would have to ask his present employer how soon he could be released from his present contract, but he was sure it would be one week at the most.
They seemed satisfied with his answers, and as he left the interview he congratulated himself on a good performance. He was sure he had said everything possible that might secure him the new position.
He was halfway out of the building when he realised he had not actually asked exactly what the job was. He had absolutely no idea what he would be required to do, and although they had hinted at a salary that might be well into six figures, he had no firm idea of that either. He nearly turned round and returned to the room to ask, but decided that it could wait. If they called him as they promised they would, he could ask and make his decision then. There was no particular advantage in knowing right at this moment.
He returned to his office and waited.
They telephoned him the same afternoon. “Can you start on Monday?” the woman asked.
“I’ll have to check. I don’t want to let down my present employers,” he told her, suddenly excited. “Can you tell me a little more about the job?”
There was a moment’s silence at the other end of the telephone. “You will be working for an extremely wealthy employer,” she answered at last. “Your duties will be varied. It is impossible to list them all, and they will change as you respond to the requirements of your position. It’s really not a conventional job, but I think you’ll find it rewarding in many surprising ways. Some of this will be completely new to you, but we are confident you will rise to each occasion as it presents itself.”
“Can’t you give me some more details?” he asked, not at all any clearer about what his job would be.
“Not really,” she said. “If you want the job then be here at nine on Monday morning. We’ll see you then and explain in more detail.”
She put down the telephone.
*
He decided to take the chance. He only had himself to worry about, and even if this was not what he wanted he was confident he would find another job reasonably quickly.
His employer was not delighted that he had decided to leave, but did not try and hold him to the thirty days notice specified in his contract. He wished him luck, shook hands, and confirmed that his salary up to date would be paid directly into his bank account as usual.
The three women were all in room twenty of the business centre when he walked in at exactly nine o’clock on the Monday morning.
“Don’t you knock?” asked the woman seated directly in front of him.
“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I’m here. Where do you want me to start?”
“We don’t work from here,” she told him. “There’s a car waiting to take you to the estate. It’s about an hour’s drive.”
“OK,” he said hesitantly. “How do I get home again? Can I get a train from there?”
“We’ll provide transport as and when you need it,” she assured him. “As I told you, it’s not a conventional job. You need to prepare yourself for some surprises.”
It was in rather less than an hour that the car brought the four of them to the entrance to Susan’s estate. The black iron gates swung open as the car approached them and swung through the gap in the high stone wall. Behind the wall was a dense wooded area, ending in a twenty-foot wire fence topped with razor wire. Here again there were gates across the driveway that swung open as the car approached.
“Lots of security here?” he asked, eyeing the fences and gates.
“We like to make sure people don’t go in or out without permission,” he was told. “Susan doesn’t like to waste too many staff in the grounds, so the physical security is a tight as possible. Nothing can move between the wall and the inner fence without triggering alarms in the house.”
“Susan?” he asked. “Is that my employer?”
“You’ll see,” was the cryptic reply, and as none of them seemed inclined to say any more he had to make do with that answer as the car continued on up the long drive towards the house.
Susan met them as he and the three women walked from the car towards the front terrace.
“How did it go?” she asked. “Any problems?”
“No,” said Maria. “As smooth as silk. Here he is, and he seems quite pleased about it. Number eighteen, awaiting your pleasure.”
“Hello,” he said, walking towards Susan and holding out his hand. “I’m Michael.”
“Shut up, Eighteen,” she told him, ignoring his outstretched hand and turning her attention to Maria once more.
“He has a lot to learn,” she said. “The sooner he starts to learn it the better. You can take him on the tour, but make sure you have enough security with you. When you’ve finished you can prepare him for a meeting with me. I’m not in a benign mood today, so you know what to do.”
Susan turned and marched into the house.
“What was all that about?” Michael asked, startled and more than a little disheartened by Susan’s far from agreeable welcome.
“I think we had better show you around,” said Maria. “You’ll soon work it out for yourself once you see some of it.”
She led the way into the entrance hall. Michael stared at the splendour of it, the broad marble staircase, the chandeliers, the paintings hanging on the walls and the statuettes on tall plinths at either side. Huge oak doors at either end opened onto other impressive reception rooms, although he could only guess at their particular purposes as Maria led him along the side of the staircase.
“Here we are,” she announced.
Three other women joined them, making six now clustered around Michael.
“Where are we?” he asked, puzzled. As far as he could see they were standing next to a low cupboard under the stairs, and apart from that there was nothing particular to be seen anywhere near them.
“The entrance to the cellars, of course,” Maria told him as she opened the door to what he had thought was merely a cupboard. He saw a long, narrow staircase leading downwards. “This is the most important part of the house,” Maria continued, “And where you will be most useful. Susan has spent millions on having them extended, and now they cover a considerably greater area than the house itself. There are at least thirty rooms down there that I know of, although there is a locked area that even I am not allowed to enter.”
“After you,” said Maria, giving him a slight push in the direction of the downward staircase.
“Just a moment.” Michael hesitated. “Why is it all underground? And what did Susan mean when she called me ‘Eighteen’?”
“Because you’re the eighteenth, of course. You are the eighteenth man here. And it’s underground because it’s more convenient to have it all underground. Also, you ought to learn not to ask so many questions. It will soon be clear. Go on. Get down there.”
He cautiously descended the steps, followed by all six women. At the bottom of the narrow staircase was a wide passageway at right angles to the stairs and leading in both directions. Strong wooden doors opened off the passageway, but as far as he could see they were all closed and he noticed that several had strong bolts on the outside and were firmly bolted shut.
“What on earth do you keep down here?” he asked, and added, “If I’m the eighteenth man who has worked here, what happened to the other seventeen?”
One of the women laughed.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Did I say something funny?”
“I told you not to ask so many question,” Maria reminded him. “But I’ll show you so that you are in no doubt about it.”
She led the way now, and carefully unbolted the door of the first room. “Take a look,” she said, opening the door wide and standing back.
He looked, and stepped back in shock almost immediately bumping into two of the women who had closed in behind him.
“What’s going on?” he demanded faintly, suddenly not at all sure he wanted the answer......
*********************
Part of a longer story, which also forms part of a collection of short stories:
http://www.strictsusan.com/publish/collection3.jpg (http://www.a1adultebooks.com/site.php?id=SusanS&pr=326)
DU007
03-04-2006, 11:56 PM
Originally posted by Frank444
I'd then offer Vice President Cheney five million to take Editor on a quail hunting trip.....
JUST KIDDING, MODS!!!!!
You're incorrigible, Frank.......But yer did make me laugh....:D
..Like I told boon, do try to stop pissing on editor's shoes, will ya...!?
editor....restraint, please - Frank's slowly getting better...:)
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