Chapter One

 

Lexi woke up slowly, groaning, as the music played on the room stereo. Her eyes fluttered open as a hand slid onto her bare breast and glided slowly and familiarly across it, squeezing gently, then coasting down along her belly and in between her legs - which spread automatically.

She felt movement shift in the bed as Cole rolled onto his side. He pulled the sheets back to reveal her laying there nude, and leaned in to mouth her right nipple as his fingers stroked skillfully across her clitoris. She sighed and made a small, appreciative sound as he bit lightly at her nipple, sucking and licking softly.

His fingers slid up her body again and then traced her lips before sliding into her mouth. She licked them and sucked lightly as he pumped them in and out, then withdrew them. She felt them against her clitoris again, and sliding up and down the line of her sex, then dipping into her.

She groaned as she felt his other hand in her long blonde hair, pulling, forcing her head up and back. She gasped, back arching as he chewed his way along the nape of her neck, then up across her breasts, biting hard enough now to ache as his fingers slid past the mouth of her sex.

"Good morning, sex slave," he said with a grin.

"Good morning, Cole," she sighed, her voice soft, almost whispery, getting quickly breathless.

She didn't use to become aroused so quickly or easily, but time with Cole had taught her body the meaning of pleasure, and the certainty of its arrival once he started in on her. Like Pavlov's dog she began to get wet almost as soon as his big hands began to move across the softly curved surface of her body.

He slid his heavy body atop her and she grunted at first before he adjusted his weight. She could feel his big cock between their bellies as he drew her head up by the hair and kissed her. Then he raised his hips, guided himself against her opening, and pushed forward.

She gasped softly, moaning into his mouth as he sank himself into her.

Her own arms, of course, were above her head, shackled to the headboard, where they'd been all night.

He was thick and long and filled her in a way which never failed to take her breath away. She kissed him with growing passion as he started to thrust, his hips moving up and down with long, quick strokes almost from the start.

This, after all, was just a morning 'quicky', and not one of his long, carefully crafted efforts to drive her out of her mind and into screaming sexual insanity.

He buried himself inside her, making her ache. The nose of his thick, ten inch cock jammed into what must surely be the back wall of her sex as he ground himself against her.

He jerked back on her hair sharply, making her cry out, and kissed his way along her exposed throat, then down onto her breast before dropping her head and reaching back. He gripped her legs, pulling them in and back, gathering them below him as she began to gulp in air.

His big hands slid down past her knees, forcing them back against her, then slid further, until they were wrapped like steel bands around her ankles, forcing them down on either side of her head as he straightened his muscular arms.

He started to really thrust into her then, with hard, powerful motions that slammed her down into the mattress, his cock spearing her with hungry, determined strokes. She cried out with every thrust, gasping and moaning as he used her, as he drove himself into her hungrily.

She groaned as his hands forced her ankles back and in behind her head, her body bent double, her groin thrust up to be hammered down by every blow, until she thought her insides had been pulped into a steaming, burning cauldron of bubbling lava!

And then the orgasm swept over her and she gave herself to it without hesitation, crying out in pleasure as he thrust harder still, relieved of any care or consideration now, his powerful body slamming down again and again as he came himself.

Afterward, he grunted and lay back, letting her legs drop heavily to the mattress, her chest heaving. He reached across and removed the chain from her shackles, then sat up and reached over to the night table to check his smart-phone.

She groaned and lay still for long seconds, until he slapped her hip, then sat up and swung her long legs out of bed. She went down the hall to the main bathroom, leaving the ensuite to him, peed, brushed her hair, then padded further down the hall to the kitchen to start breakfast.

She wore nothing, of course, but the leather shackles on her wrists and the collar around her neck.

She got coffee first, for the machine had been pre-set, and carried it back to set on the counter in the ensuite before returning to the kitchen. She went back to the bedroom and got the appropriate suit, shirt, tie, underwear, socks and shoes from the closet and dressers and set them on the bed and the floor beside it, then went back to the kitchen as the shower turned off.

She returned several minutes later and knelt on the floor next to the bed, knees spread well apart, back straight, the backs of her hands on her outer thighs. It was several minutes before he came out of the bathroom, naked, and she licked her lips appreciatively, feeling a soft hum in the back of her mind, as she always did.

Was that a Pavlovian response too, she wondered.

He was an extremely well-built man, with broad shoulders, a powerful chest and well-defined muscles going down his torso to his washboard stomach. His cock hung limp, but, unlike other men she'd known, it was not unimpressive, even flaccid, longer and thicker than most, as if barely an instant away from active use.

She held his underwear for him and he stepped into them. She slid them up his body, rising as she did, then held out his undershirt so he could simply slide his arms into the sleeves and pull it over his head. By the time it was down she already had his shirt ready, and he slid one arm into a sleeve as she moved around him and helped him slide his other arm in.

"Are you going to be late today?"

"I never know. I have no late meetings scheduled, but there's no telling when something will come up. You know that. I'll let you know when to have dinner prepared."

She scurried around front and buttoned up his shirt as he looked down at her, raising her eyes briefly to smile at him, before finishing the buttons and then quickly fetching his pants.

He leaned in and rubbed his cheek against her hair and she giggled a bit, then did up his zipper for him with a trace of reluctance as he lightly cupped and kneaded her breast.

When he was dressed she followed him out to the kitchen, quickly taking things out of the oven and off the stove, and placing them on the table before him, then got her own food and sat down next to him.

"Anything going on at your museum?" he asked.

"Endless bickering between different departments," she replied. "We are getting a new antiquities director in today. She's supposed to be a very stern type, from the British Museum in London."

"You like stern types," he said in amusement, cutting a piece of steak and popping it into his mouth.

"Only when they're incredibly sexy," she said, smiling.

"And well-hung."

"Well, that too, of course."

"Just so she understands you have certain duties."

"Oh almost no one ever works overtime nowadays. The museum is in cost cutting mode."

"Duties which sometimes call you away around noon," he said.

"Only when you're feeling stressed," she replied.

His hand gripped her hair and pulled her head up and back.

"You're a gorgeous bit of stress relief," he said.

He let her hair go, letting it slide through his fingers and fall around her shoulders.

"And you are one of the museum's more important benefactors," she said.

Which was how they had met, of course.

***

She saw him off to work, then had a smoothie while she got ready for work herself. She removed the collar and shackles, carefully drew her long blonde hair into a professional, half up/half down look which was the best she could manage with such long hair. She drew the hair spilling over her shoulders in and back and bound it up behind her, while also leaving a loose tail down her neck and almost halfway down her back.

She used to keep her hair cut shorter, near the collar, but Cole liked it long, long enough to yank on when he took her from behind, or use for... other purposes. He also liked it blonde, which was why she had dyed it.

She donned a smart beige suit from Dior over a wide-collared green silk blouse, and high heels, and slipped on her brown framed glasses before heading downstairs.

Alec, the doorman bowed her out. The cab was already waiting - a limousine cab, of course, and the driver, Jeffrey, had the door open so she could simply step into it. He closed it behind her and they headed the short distance south to the museum.

Her office was in the rear, with the rest of the curators, but she always took a quick walk to inspect the Aztec exhibit, which she was responsible for, to ensure nothing had changed overnight. There was no telling what those idiots on the cleaning staff might get up to.

Then it was up the stairs and into the office section.

She was young to be in charge of the Aztec exhibit. She'd gotten her degree at twenty, though, and her masters at twenty two. She'd already been a volunteer, then summer intern at the museum, and been hired as a curator after she'd gotten her masters. Three years later she was almost done with her doctoral dissertation.

No one doubted her intelligence or knowledge, but there were still rumors, and whenever she attended conferences there were always eyebrows raised from those seeing her for the first time. Everyone seemed to expect museum curators to be old and gray haired, or at least, middle aged, not hot young blondes.

It was true, of course, that Cole's influence had had something to do with it, but the former curator had been very sick for some time, requiring someone to act in his stead, and she had done an excellent job. Everyone said so.

She worked diligently at her desk, as she always did, for she was quite enthusiastic about her job, and very responsible, and earnest in her desire to do her best. Around eleven she got up and went to a staff meeting to meet the new director.

The meeting room was in a comfortable room filled with polished dark wooden furniture, including a two hundred year old table from France. The other curators drifted in and took their places, and she chatted with Neil Ferguson, curator of the Anthropology exhibit, and Peter Hodge from the European exhibit.

She was the youngest person in the room, which was about seventy percent male, and seventy percent gray haired - or bald. She'd been uncomfortable and felt out of place, at first, but she was reasonably certain she had been able to convince everyone here of her competence since then.

Sheila Burrows walked in, then, the chair of the Museum board, accompanied by a tall, quite beautiful woman in a mannish looking gray suit.

Hello, everyone," she said. "I'd like to introduce you all to Victoria Cutter," she said, "the new Director of Antiquities."

Lexi was surprised and then pleased at how young the woman was, though her face had a rather stern look, as advertised. Her dark hair was drawn straight back from her forehead, but she was quite an attractive woman, with full lips and piercing green eyes who, Lexi guessed, was somewhere in her early to mid-thirties.

'Victoria has shown a talent for modernization," Sheila said, "for helping redesign displays to appeal to Millennials and younger people, to teach and educate."

"Good morning, everyone. I'm honored to have been hired," Cutter said, in a smooth soprano voice laden with a distinct upper class English accent.

She smiled benignly, but Lexi frowned. There was something forbidding about the woman.

"I'll be meeting with each of you over the next few days to discuss your exhibits and what, if anything I might like you to consider in the way of alterations. Remember that however good an exhibit is, if it's not attracting visitors then it's not educating or informing."

Her eyes raked the room, and Lexi gulped as they seemed to settle on her and her gaze intensified. But then they moved on, and she sat down as she continued on her topic of attracting visitors.

She, like others, was dubious. There were always discussions along those lines in Museums. The old guard wanted bleak, coldly informative displays, while the 'disney' crowd, would turn Museums into infotainment with little actual content. Lexi was somewhere in the middle and understood both arguments.

She went back to her office and nibbled as she worked through lunch, then went down to the exhibit to inspect it and cast a wary eye across it in consideration of what the woman might like to do to jazz it up. There were things she herself would have liked to do, but the museum hadn't been willing to pay for renovations.

She shrugged and went back to her office to work until it was time for home. She left at five, got into the limo, and headed back to the upper west side. Once home she stripped and donned tight yoga pants and sports bra before starting her exercises.

The penthouse condo had a good sized gym, and her workout was designed by Cole's trainer. She ran on the treadmill, worked on the rowing machine, used the weight machine, then stripped naked to do her exercises on the pole

The pole was floor to ceiling, right by the floor to ceiling glass wall looking out on the city. It was possible someone with high powered binoculars could see her from one of the nearby towers, but if so they wouldn't be able to make out a lot.

Still, it was an amusing thought as she swung herself around it. Cole had suggested she take pole-dancing classes a couple of years ago, and they had proved to be extremely good at working her upper body muscles.

He, of course, appreciated other aspects of it, and there was another pole in one of the dens.

When she was done she did stretching exercises, then dropped into the endless pool.

The endless pool was about fourteen feet long, with a steady, powerful current allowing her to swim in place - an aquatic version of the treadmill. It had different settings and allowed her to either swim as fast as she wanted or to swim slowly and gently.

She climbed out, dripping wet, gasping, and sitting on the edge as she stared out over Manhattan. They were fifty nine stories above the city, but in Manhattan that didn't stand out particularly. Still, it made for an excellent view.

She got up and had a quick shower, washing her hair at the same time, then dried, brushed it out, put on her collar and restraints, and headed to the kitchen to start dinner.

It always felt very sensual walking around like this, giving her a soft buzz of sexuality as she did even routine tasks. The collar was thick black leather with studs, and a large metal ring in the front. The restraints around her wrists and ankles matched it. They were all she normally wore around the apartment.

She had gotten used to it, and now felt restricted when she had to wear clothes. She loved how free her movements were when nude, and was proud of her firm, toned body, and full, firm breasts. Her nipples were smaller and quite pink, both pierced by round rings which hung lightly, and swung a little as she moved.

She wore a similar ring between her legs, piercing her clitoral hood. The ring was of a size to surround her clitoris, with a tiny ball dangling from its upper center to roll across her clitoris as she moved and give her soft little rushes of sexual energy during the day.

Normally she also wore a stainless steel butt-plug when home, so that Cole could make use of her there, if he chose, without having to work her open, but she hadn't put it in yet. He would give her ample notice of when he was coming home.