The Mark of the Beast - NC17
Amy tugged at the sleeves of her fitted crimson suit jacket that was paired with a modest (for Amy)knee length skirt with a split up the back. A stiff white cotton blouse, pinstriped with the red of her suit, emerged from the jacket, buttoned higher then usual to cover the faded bruise on her sternum. The shirt front was decorated with ruffles of similar fabric, and the cuffs of it's bell sleeves were just visible. Red fence-net stockings gave her legs the look of being scratched up in an orderly fashion, and the ruby red PVC stilettos, not too high, were tied temptingly around her delicate ankles. Her hair was clipped back in the ever-present French roll, a few loose strands softening the harsh look. She had her lips painted in the same glossy ruby shade as her shoes, and they glittered like blood spilt across a white tile floor. Amy was starting to gain confidence again, with the time that had passed there had been no reprimand from Cain about her behavior with Ana, no sign that he even knew. She should've known him better then that, but the old saying "No news is good news" was one that she liked to cling to when she got her paws tangled in the proverbial ball of wool.
Jason heard the door to his outer office open. Stretching his senses, he caught Amy's familiar scent, the sound of her walk. "About bloody time," he muttered under his breath, not taking his eyes off of the reports on his desk.
A slight look of worry crossed her features, and she slowly approached, eyes down, still graceful but lacking her usual extra sparkle of sexiness. "Where were you last night?"
He grabbed a pen and signed his name with flourish on the top page, turning it over to do the same with the next, never looking up at Amy. "I was home. Where else would I be?"
"Home" she smirked "It hasn't been home in months, I don't see why it should be now." Amy lightly ran her fingers over Cain's upper arm.
The pen dropped to his desk as Jason's hand reached over to grab Amy's wrist. The extra pressure was intentional. "I think you're confused."
"I'm confused?" Her tone was almost incredulous "I'm not the one that just up and left without a word." She held firm despite the painful pressure on her wrist. She had taken much worse at his hands.
"Since when do I need to explain my actions to a secretary?" Cain turned his head slightly, eyes boring into Amy's.
"I'm just a secretary? Who took care of you when you couldn't even get up to shit? Huh? Who brought you Gibb? Who's been by your side this whole time, given themselves to you for whatever you wanted, never betrayed you?" She put her face close to his, gaze unbreaking, voice low and serious. "It was me. So don't give me this secretary bullshit."
He pushed back. Not physically. He'd looked inside the girl and found the pressure point he wanted and gave a little tug, which sent Amy to her knees. "I'm in no fucking mood for games." He reached into the top drawer to his left and retrieved a manila folder. Tossing it to the floor, photos fanned out to reveal surveillance images of Amy and the blonde girl he'd seen from the tabloid yesterday.
Amy felt as if she'd been gutted, staring dumbly at the images of her and Ana in a series of compromising positions. She knew which ones bothered Jason the most, she could've guessed, but she didn't need to - the dog-ears on the photos of Ana biting and spanking her told her what she needed to know. Still speechless, jaw hanging open, she looked up at Cain, puppy-dog eyes brimming with shame and tears glistening up at him as she awaited her punishment.
"Oh, stop sulking, Amy", he growled. "I honestly don't give a fuck."
"Y-you don't?" She asked, a little confused "Th-then why did you leave...I don't understand" Amy was now more then just a little confused, and her mind boggled trying to puzzle out the situation.
"I am a man of influence. I command respect. And I will not," he emphasized for effect, "allow anyone to drag my name or that of my family into some pathetic scandal. Do you know how much it cost me to keep these photos from the public domain?"
"More or less than I spend on clothes in a week?" Amy asked with a smirk.
"Watch your cheek."
"How would they possibly connect us? I doubt anyone here would have the balls to go to the media about our" she cleared her throat "extracurricular activities" Amy raised an eyebrow "Watch my cheek or what, Sir?"
Jason's hand shot out, connecting with Amy's cheek. "You don't need balls to drop allegations to a less than savory reporter."
Amy sat in place, her knees starting to itch from the imprint of the stockings. She was trained well, and stayed still. "That's weak" She commented on his blow "I remember when you used to give me head injuries. You afraid I'm gonna break or something?"
"If I thought it would do you any good," he said gruffly. "It's done, Amy. Go play with your social slut. I require loyalty and service from those around and clearly you're incapable of these on a most basic level."
Amy stood up, defiant. "I was just fulfilling a need, which, by the way, you weren't providing me." She was yelling, getting in Cain's face. "I bet you're just scared, scared because you finally let me in and now I know how you tick. You're afraid of me, yet I gave control of my life. If I'm such a thorn in your side, why don't you just have me killed? That seems to be the logical solution, at least according to the council." Amy yelled out so fiercely that little gobs of spit were flying off her tongue.
In a flash, his fingers reached around Amy's throat. As he stood, the pressure forced her to follow. Dragging her across the carpet, Jason pushed Amy against the paneled wall, lifting her inches off the ground.
Amy choked, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she struggled to breathe. A feeling of nostalgia flooded through her, she was a reminded of a time soon after they'd met. Despite the discomfort, the memory was a pleasant one.
Jason leaned in, whispering in Amy's ear. "Fast... or slow?"
Amy felt Jason's fingers relax just enough to allow her a breath. "I don't care, I just need you" she gasped, the clip in her hair scratching along the wood paneling.
Jason's eyes flittered downward, catching a slight discoloration on exposed skin as her shirt rose up. With his free hand, he ripped at the fabric to expose a grayish bruise on Amy's torso.
Amy froze, looking down at the bruise, then back at Jason. A rush of adrenaline caused by the combination of fear and desire made her skin break out in goosebumps.
He snorted, releasing his grip on the girl. "Someone's been sleeping in my bed," he chortled.
Amy slumped back against the paneling, rubbing her throat. "What are you? Papa Bear?"
Jason's hand moved with lightning quickness, striking Amy across the face, his eyes darkening. "I am your lord and master."
There was a crack as he slapped her, the clip in her hair finally giving way to the abuse. "That's more like it." Amy said softly to herself, one hand reaching up to remove the broken plastic, tossing it aside.
Amy's scent, arousal at the abuse, filled his nostrils. Jason grabbed the girl by the arm again, dragging her over to his desk. He pushed her face down on top of it, ripping off her shirt.
Amy put up a useless struggle purely for effect, her skin sliding against the cool stone on the desktop, hair falling into her face, her pubic bone pressed against the desk. She grasped the clock and looked over her shoulder at him, hair wantonly framing her face as she tossed it aside.
"If you enjoy being branded, witch..." he reached over to take hold of an ornate lighter. "That can be arranged." Jason also took hold of a metal seal, which he used to imprint his insignia on the wax seals of important documents, holding it over the now-lit flame. As the material began to heat, he thrust it directly onto the small of Amy's back.
Amy screamed in agony, her knuckles going white as they gripped the clock, her toes curling, but apart from the slight arching of her back with the initial response of her nerves to the burn, she stayed stock still, channeling all the pain to her limbs. Though the initial sting wore off as the makeshift brand cooled, the excruciating throbbing remained, blurring her vision as the waves surged through her body.
Satisfied his mark was permanently etched upon her flesh, Jason placed the objects back on the table. With one hand he pushed down Amy's head flat against the table, the other reaching lower to pull Amy's skirt over her ass.
Amy lay slumped on the desk, her breath coming quicker. Her hands were still clutching the clock, but less tightly, and she seemed relaxed, almost serene, though in fact her head was spinning with the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Jason ripped off her panties and reached backward to free his rock-hard cock from its confinement. Unconcerned for Amy's comfort, he thrust himself inside her.
Amy lay almost prone, a gasp leaving her lips as he filled her. The violence, the pain, the waiting had left her almost delirious with need, and it was beyond her to do anything but let him give her what she needed.
He rocked into Amy's cunt hard, pushing to fill her. His hand eased on her face only to pull her up by the hair.
Amy whimpered as he filled her, the faraway sound of someone completely lost to sensation. "Jason" she mewled pathetically. Her genuine appreciation would have come off as as insincere as a porn star had any impartial observers been witness to it.
The sensation built up from his testicles, demanding release. With a final grunt, Jason pulled out of Amy and came on her ass. Breath slowly returning to normal, he retrieved a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his dick clean.
Amy's head dropped to the desk as he released her hair, the touch of the cold stone bringing her awareness back to her surroundings. "Sir?" She asked huskily, her cheek against the desk as she awaited instruction.
Jason completed zipping his pants, and returned to his desk. His gaze fell back to the paperwork. He absently reached to a stack of his files on his left and pushed them towards Amy. "File these."
Amy rolled smoothly upright, taking the stack and heading for the filing cabinet in the corner. She paused on her way, looking pointedly at her boss. "Thankyou sir." She said simply, tossing her hair from her face as she continued on her way.