CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 9

Lach gradually looked down her body, taking in the fact that she was once again sporting those sky-high leather boots that she liked when wearing sweater dresses. This knitted fabric was black with a beige belt wrapped around her waist and coming just to her knee, which happened to be bare. His first instruction would be easy.

"Take them off."

"Why?"

"The proper answer is yes, Sir."

Phoebe let out a laugh, although it faded quickly when she saw that Lach didn't break into a returning smile. To make sure she understood just how serious he was, he took two steps back and leaned himself against the refrigerator, crossing his arms.

"I'm waiting."

Phoebe must have stood there a good long minute contemplating his behavior. Whatever conclusion she finally came to had her slowly pulling up the sweater dress until her fingers were able to hook into the side of her French cut bikini panties. Lach instantly saw that she kept herself bare, which was his exact preference. It looked professionally done, but his thoughts were distracted when he saw the slight tremor in her hand. Her lips parted as she stepped out of the black panties fringed with white lace around the edges.

"I'll take them, please." Lach held out his hand and waited for her to place the silk item in his palm. She did as he asked, never taking her eyes off of his. Knowing she was watching him, he purposefully put them in his front pocket. "Before we continue on with satisfying my need for something sweet, you must choose a safeword. I'm sure you know what that is?"

"Of course, I do," Phoebe answered a little breathlessly, her chin tilting up just a fraction. "The women at the clubs were given colors. Red to stop and yellow to slow down. But those were women who were in positions where they really needed that. Do we?"

"No matter what the level of play is, a submissive should always have a safeword." Lach noticed that Phoebe lowered her dress a fraction. "Did I tell you that you could cover yourself?"

"Lach, this feels ridiculous." Phoebe pushed the fabric down and placed her hands on her hips. "Maybe if we were in a club setting, following whatever protocol the people had in place, I could see having this scene. But we're in the middle of my kitchen."

"Did you not say last night that you were willing to submit?"

"Yes, but this-"

"You've gone to the extent of visiting clubs in person, regardless that you didn't play. You stated you understood that this isn't something that I just amuse myself with...it's who I am. From this moment on, you'll refer to me as Sir and you'll use red as a safeword should at any time you want this to end. Am I clear?"

Phoebe's disbelief and humor that he would instigate a scene in her kitchen quickly evaporated. The pace of her breathing quickened and she slowly lowered her arms to where her fingers grasped onto the fabric. He understood that the first time a submissive uttered a Dom's t.i.tle was alarming, yet in that designation was a freedom in which they'd never experienced. He was honored to be standing in front of Phoebe as she took that step.

"Yes...Sir."

Phoebe's hesitation was evident, but Lach could see the darkening of her blue eyes to the extent that they shimmered like sapphires. He waited a beat to see if she'd say or do anything else, but she stood there waiting for his next directive. He felt a rush of blood enter his c.o.c.k, but knew that he wouldn't see any relief this afternoon. This moment wasn't about release so much as it was in setting the guidelines to this latest detour in their relationship.

"Pull your dress back up over your hips and spread your legs." Lach waited patiently for Phoebe to follow this new order and when she did, he saw a small glimmer of sunlight reflect off of her inner thigh indicating her arousal. "Situate yourself on the end of the counter, keeping your legs properly separated. I want to explore the body that you've just given me."

Phoebe's motions weren't as graceful as they usually were when she moved her body and that only fueled his desire higher. Her desire was rising and she was reacting just as he'd hoped. He couldn't wait until later this evening when he had her show him each and every corset she owned, having her dress and stand before him. When she was finally on the countertop having used the stools for leverage, he pushed himself off of the fridge and made his way around to the end where her beautifully exposed body awaited him.

"Have you looked at yourself with a mirror?" Lach wondered aloud, not waiting for an answer as he used one finger to trail down the side of her pink l.a.b.i.a. It was a shade darker than her lipstick, but he wanted to taste it just the same if not more so. "Your p.u.s.s.y looks like petals, with a morning dew like a glistening liquid just waiting for me to indulge."

"Lach, I-" Phoebe broke off, her surprise evident. Lach wasn't sure if it was because he touched her or the fact that he described her p.u.s.s.y in such detail. "I'm on my counter."

"Sir. You seem to have trouble remembering my t.i.tle." Lach had been in the lifestyle a very, very long time and knew the quickest way to overcome such forgetfulness. He had enough time to do just that. "Keep your legs spread or this scene will end and I will bring my bag of toys tonight to do it for you."

"Oh, my G.o.d," Phoebe murmured, her head thumping on the granite as she wrapped her fingers around either side of the counter. "Yes, Sir."

His t.i.tle this one time wasn't good enough, so Lach set out to make sure forgetting his designation wouldn't be an issue in the future. She'd set her boots on the corners, the heels holding onto the hard surface with just their edge. The width of the counter was enough that he could access her without concern and also enjoy the look of black leather against her fair skin.

Lach placed both index fingers on either side of her c.l.i.t and slowly pulled her folds apart, revealing her entrance and the nectar that pooled there. He ignored the involuntary contracting of her opening and instead focused on the swollen tissue above it. Her c.l.i.toris was lighter in color, but it wouldn't be that way for long. Her blood continued to pump into her sensitive tissue with her quickening pulse.

"Ask me to lick your c.l.i.t."

"For crying out loud, just-" Lach released her, allowing her p.u.s.s.y to close. She groaned in frustration. "Fine! Sir, please lick my c.l.i.t."

"Much better." Lach slowly opened Phoebe once more to reveal her entrance, making sure she knew that she was technically in control with regards to how fast she received an o.r.g.a.s.m. She probably wouldn't be too happy with the outcome of this afternoon's scene, but she would d.a.m.n well be ready tonight and his t.i.tle would be flowing off of her tongue as if it belonged there. "Now, ask me like you mean it and put emphasis on that t.i.tle so you won't forget."

"Sir, please lick my c.l.i.t."

Phoebe's need was rising and so was the pressure on her c.l.i.toris. Flattening his tongue, he gathered her juices first and then proceeded to run his tongue directly over her most sensitive nerves. She cried out, but never once moved her legs more than a tremor. He could see her knuckles whitening as he traced her nub. He pulled back slightly, blowing air on the overheated flesh.

"Ask me nicely to suckle you and again, I want to hear my t.i.tle clearly."

"Oh my...Sir, please suck on my c.l.i.t, please."

Lach knew she was now in the moment, but it wasn't enough. He did as she asked though, as was his intention. Phoebe emitted the most adorable little mewing sound he'd ever heard that could only be described as dainty. He looked forward to the day when it turned into a growl. He closed his lips around her now very swollen nub and sucked gently, paying attention to the signs her body was producing. The inside of her thighs were trembling just a little more than before and her back was arching off of the counter. Every now and then he would run his rough tongue over her c.l.i.t after having captured it between his teeth. When her cries became rushed together and her muscles tightened, he pulled his mouth away.

"Lach, Sir, please."

"Tsk-tsk. Ask me to fill your p.u.s.s.y." Lach licked his lips, enjoying the sweet taste of her cream. He could literally see her body coming down slightly as she tried to formulate her words. "Ask me to use my finger to breach your entrance."

"Sir, p-please finger my p.u.s.s.y." Phoebe's eyes were tightly closed and her head was turned to the side. There would also come a time when he would make her look directly into his eyes when she gained her release. There was nothing more beautiful than to witness his woman experience her pleasure. "Sir, please."

Lach stood and released her mounds, noticing that her skin stayed parted for him to view what he was about to do. Taking his right middle finger, he took his time in gathering her juices, wetting his digit, and spreading it around her opening while carefully avoiding her c.l.i.t. Phoebe's hips rose slightly, attempting to force his attention back to her nub. Her legs remained apart. Coating his thumb as well, he placed it over her c.l.i.toris while slowly entering her warm sheath with his finger. Her walls immediately tried to strangle his extremity, but he refused to be rushed.

"Your p.u.s.s.y is trying to keep me inside of you, Phoebe. Your heat is practically scorching my flesh." Lach slowly pulled out until he'd reached his last knuckle, all the while making circular movements with his thumb and keeping friction on her c.l.i.t. The pad of his middle finger maintained firm contact with the roof of her cave, rubbing the bundle of nerves he knew to be there with each elongated stroke. It wasn't long before he once again saw the tremors on her inner thighs begin to quiver. He stopped all effort. "Do your b.r.e.a.s.t.s feel neglected?"

It took a moment for Lach's words to register, but it must have been obvious to her when he didn't begin his administrations once more that he wanted to be answered. She inhaled and then exhaled, her chest rising and falling, eventually licking her lips and answering him honestly.

"Yes, Sir, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s feel neglected." Phoebe's breath hitched on her last word.

"Do you like your b.r.e.a.s.t.s played with? Do you like your nipples to be touched, pulled, bitten?"

"Yes, Sir, e-especially when I'm-"

"Aroused?"

"When I'm ready to come, Sir." Phoebe finally opened her eyes and lowered her chin enough so that he could see those beautiful sapphires shining with need. "I'm ready to come, Sir. Please."

"I know that, Phoebe. I am watching you very closely." Lach could feel that her sheath had relaxed its hold on his finger, so once again he started to slowly move his digit in and out, wanting to take her higher. Her cream was now dripping off of his knuckle. He pressed harder on her c.l.i.t with his thumb, making sure every nerve within her nub responded. She cried out and one of her heels almost slipped. His point seemed to be made. "Who will now control your releases? Will it be you? Me? Will you hand them over to your Dominant, knowing I have your best interests at heart?"

"Sir, please...just a little more."

"A little more?" Lach asked, knowing full well she was on the verge of coming. He watched her body and face intently as he continued to pleasure her. Phoebe's c.l.i.t was now a soft red, matching the inner walls of her p.u.s.s.y. It was engorged, wet, and now throbbed under his touch. Her breathing was coming out in gasps and right before he knew she would go over the edge, he stopped. "What's my t.i.tle?"

"Sir!" Phoebe's body became still, waiting for him to continue. He didn't. "Sir! Your t.i.tle is Sir."

"Very good, Phoebe." Lach slowly pulled his finger out of her p.u.s.s.y, all the while making sure his thumb didn't caress her c.l.i.t even once more by mistake. "Let me help you up and then you can reply to my question that you never answered."

"You...you can't-" Phoebe's eyes sparked with anger and she ignored his outstretched hands, pushing them aside as she came to a sitting position. "Are you f.u.c.king serious?"

"Such language. We'll deal with that later." Lach stepped in between her thighs, taking advantage of the frustration consuming her. He cupped Phoebe's flushed face and made sure he had her full attention. "Let me rephrase my earlier question. Do you want to hand over your releases to me...giving me full control of your body?"

Phoebe's eyes clearly expressed the warring emotions that were going on inside of her. Lach was pleased that he'd gotten her arousal to a place where she responded only to his touch and commands. That in itself was the only pleasure he needed to see himself through the day.

"W-why would you stop?" Phoebe asked, her breathing somewhat under control. "We still have time. We could-"

"My ending the scene this way had nothing to do with time constraints." Lach used his finger and rubbed her cream on her lower lip until it glistened like her p.u.s.s.y. "It was to show you that this is not a game to me. This is me."

Lach couldn't resist leaning down and licking Phoebe's juices off of her mouth. Instead of shying away at her own taste, she surprised him by mingling their tongues and enjoying her flavor together. He came very close to changing his mind and carrying out a full scene in her bedroom, both of them being given the relief they needed.

"I like this you. What if I told you that I got your message loud and clear? Would that convince you to continue?"

Lach choked out a laugh even though his c.o.c.k strained painfully against his denim. Regardless of her frown, he slid his hands underneath her arms and lifted her off of the counter. Her eyebrows were in a V and it was apparent she was about to argue. He admired her spirit, but it wouldn't get him to change his mind. He'd implemented the scene for a reason, and by tonight he guaranteed he'd hear his t.i.tle without any prompting. That was a reward he was looking forward to.

"If you go the rest of the day without wearing your panties and meet me here precisely at eight o'clock, then we'll see about giving you the release you crave." Lach leaned down for one more kiss, although her lips were in a thin line expressing her considerable displeasure. She certainly wasn't going to like it when he sent her into the bathroom to clean up while he disinfected the counter. There was one more thing that she should be aware of. "By the way, if I find out that you've taken matters into your own hands, you'll experience firsthand the punishment that I like to serve."

Chapter Eighteen.

Phoebe finally turned off her computer, her thighs trembling from the antic.i.p.ation of what Lach had planned for her this evening. It had taken most of the afternoon for her anger to wear off and a couple of more hours to finally understand Lach's position on this part of his life. It wasn't like he hadn't said it numerous times, but the lifestyle was ingrained in him. Instead of finishing up calls in regards to donations to her father's campaign, she'd trolled the Internet researching the BDSM lifestyle as much as she could while keeping prying eyes at bay.

While waiting for sites to load, Phoebe spent time wondering what had made her attracted to Lach in the first place. Granted, he'd saved her over a year ago now during the hostage situation in Africa. Could it be she saw him as her savior? Was she just grateful? She'd immediately rejected that thought, knowing that wasn't it. He was a gentleman through and through, from how he treated women to the proper etiquette it took to date a lady. He was kind and understanding, which she'd seen firsthand with Kimmie. He was loyal to a fault, evident in his word of honor given to Gavin Crest. Men like him were few and far between and when it came right down to it, he made her feel something that no one else had-an untapped fountain of desire.

"You're leaving early. Is everything all right?"

Phoebe looked up from her black screen to see Stewart standing in front of her desk. He'd relieved another volunteer around lunch time and she knew that he only had another hour of his time before he left for the evening as well. Paul had made sure that the phones were manned until at least eleven at night, knowing the west coast didn't end their day until later. There were still at least ten other volunteers still making cold calls along with Troy. Paul was already training the up and coming eager young man for a run in politics. It had always amazed her at how young the budding politicians started out.

"Everything's fine, Stewart," Phoebe answered, standing up and trying not to let it be known that cool air drifted up her dress, making her instantly clench her thighs and think of Lach. "Um, I just have some personal things to attend to. Troy is manning the ship anyway, so I'll see you in the morning."

"Have you spoken with Hannah?" Stewart remained in front of the table while Phoebe slid her arms inside her coat, brushing off some black threads that must have come off of her dress. His question had caught her attention though and she waited for him to continue while pulling on her gloves. "I haven't heard from her in a while. We used to text each other every day, but now she won't respond. Hannah also won't answer my calls."

"My father reached out to Hannah and he made sure she understood why she couldn't volunteer on the campaign after everything that happened." Phoebe had seen the hurt that the young girl had felt upon finding out that her father had been arrested. Life had dealt her a handful of bad cards, but what she needed to do was start over with a solid foundation rather than building a house of them. "I also spoke with her shortly after that, telling her the best thing she could do was concentrate on her studies. Another internship will open up and someone will give her a chance at a new beginning. You and I both know she was sharing her excitement with Victor Ward regarding my father's run for presidency, but she also commented on his agenda outside of these walls. I know it's done all of the time, but the outcome dictated the consequences."

"I know you're right," Stewart replied, placing his hands inside his pockets and looking defeated, "but she's a sweet girl that doesn't deserve to be punished for something her father did."

"If you're so worried about Hannah, why don't you go and see if you can talk to her?" Phoebe glanced over Stewart's shoulder to see Troy in a deep conversation on the phone, probably talking with Paul. "Tell Troy I said it was fine for you to leave an hour early."

"Thank you so much, Ms. Dunaway!"

Stewart didn't waste a second as he turned on his heel and marched over to a table on the far side of the room. He grabbed his jacket and headed over to where Troy was still on the phone. Stewart's impatience was evident, but Troy didn't seem to care one way or the other. Paul was training him well.

"Are you ready, Ms. Dunaway?"

"Yes." Phoebe had decided it was easier to ride with the agent on duty at the time than it was to take her own car. A couple of inches of snow had fallen throughout the day, and although that was nothing in the state of Minnesota, she hadn't felt like maneuvering her car through the slick roads. Besides, her attention had been drawn to these new sensations her body was experiencing and with her luck, she'd wreck her BMW short of her goal. "I'm ready."

Those two words meant a whole lot more to Phoebe than they did the agent who'd taken over a couple of hours ago. It wasn't Jim this time. This agent's name was Thornton and although it seemed odd, suited him just fine. His hair was styled and brushed back from his forehead, giving him an aristocratic look. Technically, he blended in well with the political arena of politicians. It didn't take them long to drive home, though her body sure as h.e.l.l didn't feel that way.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Thornton asked as he helped her from the vehicle. Phoebe's loud inhalation at the feel of the chilled air had caught his attention and she was mortified by the reason.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Phoebe had to have a talk with Lach about this no panty thing. She wasn't sure what it was to prove, but she'd found it hard to concentrate on anything else but her body. Ah. And there it was. He wanted her distracted and thinking of him. Well, it d.a.m.n well worked. Should she tell him what really had her preoccupied was the fact that he'd pocketed her panties into the front of his jeans? Did he still have them? Had he touched them throughout the day thinking of her?

Within minutes, she and Thornton had walked into her apartment building and rode the elevator up to her floor. Phoebe was thirty minutes early and wanted to use that time wisely. She would shower and put on one of her favorite corsets, trusting that Lach would keep his word and that they would both be satisfied before this evening was over.

"Thornton, Lach will be here in around thirty minutes," Phoebe said, after the agent had made his sweep of her apartment. "Please just let him in."

Thornton agreed and closed the door behind him, taking up his position at her front door. Phoebe rid herself of her gloves and coat, thinking of how she wanted this evening to start out. She knew just which corset she would wear and thought of the positions that submissives took when waiting for their Dominant. It was hard to think of Lach as her Master, although that was a term that floated around the Internet on almost every site. She was glad that he preferred the t.i.tle Sir.

One position stood out that Phoebe had seen online. A beautiful sub was kneeling on a bed, her knees separated and her hands laced behind her head. There was a grace about the woman that gave off the feeling of serenity. Had she truly felt that way waiting for her Dominant? There was only one way to find out.

Phoebe heard the front door of her apartment open as well as bits and pieces of the conversation that Lach and Thornton were having. She'd left her bedroom door ajar, although she couldn't see much into the living room as she anxiously waited on the bed in the kneeling position she'd thought would appeal to him. Her muscles were tense and her body was so ready for tonight's events that serenity wasn't even close to what she was feeling. What did that mean?

Throughout the process of getting ready and choosing one of her favorite corsets, which was white leather decorated with black lace, Phoebe had gone over and over what she wanted out of this journey that Lach had promised her. He'd given her an out should she have wanted it, but she truly wanted to share in this part of him. And if she were honest with herself, her body and mind responded to him in a way that she hadn't with anyone else.

"Phoebe?" Lach was closer than before although Phoebe hadn't heard his footsteps or the fact that he'd closed the front door. For someone so tall, there were times he was like a ghost. "Phoebe?"

Before she could say anything, Lach had pushed open her bedroom door. He stood there with a large black duffle bag and all of her thoughts immediately went to what could possibly be in there. The tight sensation of the corset that gave her a sense of security vanished. Phoebe's fingers slipped from their clasp behind her head and she slowly lowered her hands to her thighs, which currently had on black stockings to match the black lace on her corset. She raised her gaze to his, and for a moment thought she saw surprise. It warmed her heart that she could keep him as off guard as he kept her.

"Sir."

Phoebe said his t.i.tle, hoping he would take it as the gift she was giving. She didn't want dinner, she didn't want to think about work, she didn't want to talk over more things, and she didn't need more time to evaluate their current situation. His presence had made her understand that there would eventually come a time when she could wait for him like the submissive in the picture, at peace with herself and secure in her Dom's hands. It would take time to learn and allow the trust and respect to grow. She wanted that, but right now her body was waiting on a release that was over a year in coming.

"You are a welcome sight," Lach murmured, taking a step into the room and placing his bag on top of her hope chest at the foot of her bed. "I'm glad to hear that today's scene had the intended affect. I can see from here that you followed my instructions."

Phoebe couldn't prevent the flush that appeared on her cheeks and marveled that he was able to do that to her. She wasn't easily fl.u.s.tered, but his eyes were trained on her black panties, which she knew had a damp spot in the middle. She resisted the urge to close her knees and waited breathlessly for what would happen next. Would he order her to stand and undress? Would he allow her to once again see his body? Would they forgo the formalities and make love?

A part of Phoebe understood why Dominants made their submissives wait for release, although at the time it wasn't so pleasant. But if she were honest with herself, she'd never been more aware of her entire being than she had been today. She admitted to herself that she would be disappointed if he didn't play out whatever scene he intended to carry out.

"No two submissives are the same." Lach's statement had certainly grabbed her attention and she had to wonder if he knew she'd doubted herself. That was impossible, but that didn't stop a shiver of excitement from traveling up her spine. "I love that you have a penchant for corsets and I will continue to supply you with them, as I can see they make you feel beautiful. What I want to see right now is you standing before me and describing to me why."

Lach didn't wait for her to unravel her body from the bed before removing his holster. It wasn't until his full lips thinned slightly that Phoebe realized she was still in her position on her comforter. Her heart started to race as her mind whirled with possible explanations of why the corsets made her feel sensual. It was hard to think of that all the while waiting impatiently for him remove his clothing. When he placed his holster and weapon on the dresser glancing at his bag and then leaning against the large piece of furniture, she reluctantly stood at the end of the bed.

"I want you positioned at the full length mirror."

Phoebe looked across the room to where an antique dressing mirror was situated right next to the door of her closet. It had three sections of long vertical mirrors to capture different angles of her appearance. She wasn't quite sure why he would want her there when she was supposed to describe herself to him, but she slowly walked over to where he wanted her to be. She was relieved that she could see his reflection. Wanting his brown eyes to darken even further, she placed her arms behind her, using one hand to grab onto her other wrist. She spread her feet shoulder width apart and felt wetness drip out of her p.u.s.s.y as she finally got the reaction from him that she wanted.

"Very good. Either you've been doing research today or you remember what you saw during your time at the clubs." Lach moved like a predator across the beige plush carpet until he was standing directly behind her. He traced her skin where her neck and shoulder melded into a curve with only his finger, evoking tingles that traveled down to her hands. "I want you to forget about everything you've ever read or witnessed. I want you here with me. Alone."

"I'm here with you, Sir," Phoebe whispered, his words enveloping her with warmth and affection. It was as if he'd dimmed the lights and they were the only two people on stage, the audience quiet yet captivated. "I'm yours."