Self-Help
“Hey, Megan, what’d you do now?”
Megan Troy looked up from her desk to find her best buddy standing there over her desk. “What?” she asked. “I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not what I hear,” said her friend. “What I hear is Mr. McAllister is looking for you.”
Megan felt her heart skip a beat. She was sure she hadn’t done anything to get her in trouble. Well, maybe not anything, but definitely nothing that should have risen to the level of the publisher’s office. Sometimes, she did like to run things right on the edge, but if she needed a reprimand, that would have come from her editor, wouldn’t it?
“Any idea what Mr. McAllister wants?” Megan asked her friend.
Tina shook her head. The two of them had started at the paper the very same week. Both were fresh out of college and both were idealistic and while Tina had more of a girl next door kind of look, her dark haired friend was undeniably gorgeous. “I haven’t a clue,” she told her friend. “All I know is that the boss is looking for you. So what’d you do now?”
“I haven’t a clue,” Megan said. She wasn’t above using her looks to get out of bad situations but she usually liked knowing what the problem was before she went in.
Even as the two women were talking, Barry Newman came up to Megan’s cube. The editor looked at Tina. “Don’t you have someplace else to be,” he said.
Tina flashed her friend her best, I-told-you-so look before saying, “I’ll talk with you later, okay,” and then she quickly made her retreat.
The editor watched Tina go and then he turned his attention back towards Megan Troy. “I want to see you in my office now.”
There was no doubt what the man meant. It was all in the way he said the word “now.” Now was exactly what it sounded like. Now wasn’t when it was convenient. Now wasn’t in a few minutes. Now was now.
“Right away,” Megan Troy said and once again, she wondered what she’d done to earn this kind of attention.
She followed the editor back to his office and when her editor told her to close the door, she did that, too.
Barry Newman took a seat behind his desk and he looked up at his reporter. Megan knew better than to try and sit if she wasn’t told to sit. “Mr. McAllister wants to see you,” her editor said finally, “so there’s only one thing I want to know?”
“Sir?”
“How much trouble are we in?”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“The big boss wants to see you. That doesn’t sound good. And if you’re in trouble, it probably means I’m in trouble, too, so I’ll ask you again. How much trouble are we in?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“If you don’t know, then guess.”
“No, I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t done anything,” Megan said. “I haven’t done anything to get Mr. McAllister’s attention.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Megan nodded.
The man sighed. “All right then. If you don’t know, you don’t know, and I can’t hold you here to long. The old man’s waiting for you so you better get on your way.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But Troy—”
“Sir?”
“Whatever you did, don’t make it any worse.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. The old man’s waiting for you so you better get out of here.”
“Yes, sir,” and with that, Megan Troy turned and left.
All the way up to the top floor, Megan kept asking herself just what it was she’d done to warrant this kind of attention, but she still hadn’t come up with a suitable answer by the time she arrived.
The elevator on the executive level opened up on a lobby that was not only twice as big as Megan’s whole apartment but in Megan’s opinion, probably cost quite a bit more to furnish. Behind a big, broad reception desk, a matronly woman surveyed the reception area. “Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“I’m Megan Troy,” the reporter said. “I was told Mr. McAllister wanted to see me.”
“Ah yes, Ms. Troy. He’s been expecting you. Do you know where his office is?”
Megan shook her head.
“Very well,” the receptionist said as she disconnected herself from the phone system. It you’ll follow me.”
Megan followed the receptionist down a plush hallway to a corner office. She knocked on an open door. “Mr. McAllister?”
Megan couldn’t see in but she could hear the man on the other side. “Yes.”
“Ms. Troy’s here to see you.”
“Excellent. Send her in, Bridget.”
The older woman stepped aside. “Mr. McAllister will see you now.”
Megan Troy stepped into the man’s office. She knew the man by his picture, of course, and she’d seen him at corporate functions, but she’d never been this close to him before.
He was an old man but he’d come up through the ranks and rumor was he had the scars to prove it. He looked distinguished sitting there behind his desk, but rumor was that he was on the wagon now. Rumor among some people was he’d fallen back off the wagon. “Ms. Troy,” the man began, “it’s good to meet you. I’ve heard lots of good things about you. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, sir,” Megan said as she sank into one of the plush chairs in his office. “I’m glad to hear it, sir.”
“I’ve heard it said you were attractive, too. I’m glad to hear that those reports were true as well.”
Megan could feel herself stiffen at that. She’d heard that McAllister had had at least two affairs and apparently, he liked his women young. She could maybe see the wife forgiving him after the first one, but after the second one ... well, whatever Megan thought, whatever went on between the two of them was just that, between the two of them, but if McAllister was looking to make her his latest piece of eye candy, he was out of his fucking mind.
“Relax,” the publisher said. “I was merely making an observation, but it will be important for you in your next assignment.”
That hardly did anything to put Megan’s fears at ease. What if her next ‘assignment’ was something that had nothing to do with her job as a reporter.
“What do you know about Miles Percivelle?”
“Sir?”
“Miles Percivelle. What do you know about him?”
“Isn’t he that author, sir. Writes self help books for women, right. I think his last one was ‘Finding Your Inner Beauty’ or something like that.”
“Author, right. Con artist is more like it.”
“Sir?”
“He makes a sizable amount of his money from his books, but it’s not the only place where he gets his money. Part of his money comes from getting gullible women to give it to him. He’ll take it from older women if he can, but younger women with money are even more attractive because he can get other favors as well.”
“Sir? I’ve not heard any of this.”
“I have my sources,” the publisher said vaguely. “The women in question, are understandably chagrined at what was done and don’t want to call attention to themselves.”
“That’s understandable,” Megan agreed. “So what’s this got to do with me?”
“I want to expose this creep. I want you to go on a special assignment for me. I want you to go undercover and I want you to get him. Do you think you can do that?”
Was she interested in a special assignment, Megan thought. Of course, she was. If she did this right, she could make a name for herself. If she did this right, people would know who Megan Troy was before she even got close to thirty. “I’ll do it,” she said.
“That’s just what I wanted to hear. Now the first thing we need to do is to figure out how we’re going to get you close to the man ...”
It wasn’t that long before Megan left the publisher’s office.
Miles Percivelle was coming to town. Megan already knew that even before she’d come to her publisher’s office. After all, they’d been running commercials for his seminars all over the radio. What better way to get to him than to show up as a groupie, the reporter thought. She’d make sure to talk to him after the presentation was over. She’d make sure she’d tell him how great she thought he was. She’d offer herself up as someone in need of his advice.
Megan smiled to herself. Sometimes, men were so easy to impress. A little flattery would go a long way.
But it didn’t take Megan long to discover that there was a little hitch in her plan. Every single one of Percivelle’s seminars was sold out.
It would have been nice, Megan thought, if the newspaper could pull some strings, but what was the point of going undercover if everyone knew you were there from the newspaper. She’d have to take care of this on her own.
She’d talk to Drew, she told herself. He seemed to have a way of getting tickets to just about anything. She picked up the phone and dialed her friend.
“Hey, Drew,” when he finally answered.
“What’s up?” the man asked.
He sounded upset, Megan thought. He wasn’t still mad about what had happened the last time they’d talked, Megan thought. That had been three months ago. “How’s it been going?” she asked.
“Fine. How ‘bout you?”
Okay, he was definitely mad. Maybe she should call someone else, Megan thought.
“What do you want?”
“I got a favor to ask.”
The man snorted. “You got some nerve to ask that.”
“Come on, Drew. It was three months ago.”
“Oh, so you do remember?”
“You were being a jerk, Drew.”
“Yeah right. I was trying to be your friend.”
“You were trying to get inside my panties.”
There was nothing from the other end of the line.
“Drew? You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“I need some tickets, Drew.”
“For what show?”
“For Miles Percivelle.”
“Him? What the hell do you want tickets for him for? You never struck me as the type that would go for his shit.”
“You think his stuff is shit?”
“Sure. Don’t you?”
Megan growled to herself. It would have been so much easier if the newspaper would have gotten the tickets for her but she was under strict orders to tell no one what she was doing. “I just want to go,” she said.
“Fine. What show?”
Megan took a breath. “Can you get me tickets for all of his shows?”
“What?!”
“You heard me. I’d like tickets to all ten shows. Can you do it?”
“Yeah, I guess, but it’s going to cost you.”
“How much?”
“We’re not talking dollars and cents here.”
“Come on, Drew.”
“I got something you want,” the man said, “or I can get it. All I’m asking for is that I get what I want in return.”
Damn it. She hadn’t thought he’d ask for that.
“What do you say?” Drew asked.
“You can get me all ten?”
“Sure thing, babe.”
“How long?”
“I can have them in under a week.”
“But he’s going to be here in three weeks.”
“Yeah, so I better get started then.”
“You’re sure you can get them for me?”
“You’re sure you’re going to come through if I do?”
Megan bit her lip. It would have been so much easier if the newspaper could have done this for her but she couldn’t let Percivelle or any of the people working for him know that they were working on a story about them, and when the publisher had specifically asked her if she could get tickets for Percivelle’s appearances and she’d blithely told him that she was sure that wouldn’t be a problem. Cocky, she told herself. That’s what that was. Cocky, but fine. She’d said she’d do it. “I’ll come through,” she told Drew. “You just make sure you get me those tickets.”
Megan almost thought she could hear Drew smile. “Don’t you worry about that,” Drew said. “I’ll get them for you.”
Drew’d come through all right, but it was only when he did that Megan had found out just what it was going to cost her.
He’d told her she could come over to his house to pick them up and Megan couldn’t help but sigh at that. After all, it wasn’t like she didn’t know what he had in mind but he wasn’t even going to pay for dinner first. On the other hand, why should he? They’d already determined that he had what she wanted. Why should he have to put out anything more.
“Are those them?” Megan asked when she came by the house.
“Yep.”
“Can I see them?”
“Sure. Why not,” and with that, Drew handed them over.
There were ten tickets in all. They didn’t look like much and Megan knew their face value was only ten bucks, but the face value wasn’t really what they were worth to her. “How much?” she asked.
“For those? You’re going to have to do what you said you wouldn’t do.”
Megan shook her head. “Come on, Drew. Not that.”
“I just want to see what you’re going to do.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Too bad,” Drew said as he took the tickets back. “I thought you said you really wanted these. I guess I was mistaken.”
Megan’s eyes never left the tickets. “Come on, Drew. Can’t we work something out.”
“Sure we can. I told you what we could do.”
“We could do something else,” Megan said as a hint of desperation crept into her voice.
“What’d you have in mind?”
“We could just fuck. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course, I would.”
“So let’s just do that.”
“I said I’d like it, but I didn’t say I was going to settle for it.”
“Drew!”
“You know what I want,” the man said.
“Drew!”
“I got the tickets, babe. If you want them, then you’re going to have to give me what I want.”
Maybe she could go somewhere else, Megan told herself. Maybe she could ... could what? She was out of time, and she’d told Mr. McAllister she could get the tickets. She’d told him she didn’t need any help.
“You better not tell anyone I did this,” she said.
“Whatever you say, babe.”
Yeah, right, Megan thought, and yet, she did need him. She sighed even as she dropped to her knees. She unzipped the man’s jeans and then she was pulling his jeans and his underwear down around his knees. She so didn’t want to do this.
She took hold of Drew’s cock and she hesitated. She didn’t want to do this, she told herself again, but really, she’d come this far. She couldn’t turn back now.
She drove her mouth down onto Drew’s cock.
“Oh yeah,” Drew moaned. “Oh yeah, baby. Oh yeah. That’s it. Suck it. Suck my cock.”
Fuck him, Megan wanted to say. She didn’t want to do this and she really didn’t want to hear him moaning all over the place.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned. “Oh fuck.”
Just get it over with, Megan told herself.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned again. “Oh ... oh ... God da-a-a-a-amn. Oh ... oh ... fu-u-u-u-uck.”
What the hell, Megan thought. What the fucking hell. Oh my God. That was so gross. He was cumming in her mouth. Oh my God, she thought. He was so going to pay for that. He was so going to fucking pay.
It was a short while later when Megan had the tickets in her hand and she was on her way home. She had every intent that as soon as she got there, she’d be washing her mouth out and she’d be washing it good.
It was a couple of weeks later and Megan was getting ready to take her seat in the audience for Miles Percivelle’s first show in a ballroom in one of the city’s ritziest hotels. It had been a productive two weeks, the reporter told herself and yet, there was still so many questions left unanswered.
Up until three years before, Miles Percivelle had been a nobody. There were no articles about him and no interviews. But then he’d written his first book, and that book had catapaulted him out of obscurity. His second book, released a year later had hit the New York Times bestseller list even before it was available in the stores, and suddenly, Percivelle was a hot commodity, and his newest book had made him a superstar. In three years, he’d gone from being nowhere to being everywhere.
But did that make him the con artist that her publisher thought he was? Megan Troy wasn’t sure, but then she wasn’t sure he wasn’t.
A middle-aged woman took a seat next to Megan as the talk was about to begin. “Hi,” she said. “My name’s Beverly.”
“I’m Megan,” Megan said.
“Have you read many of Dr. Percivelle’s books?” the older woman asked.
“Just the most recent one,” Megan lied. Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly a lie. After all, she’d skimmed the first few chapters just to get the gist of it.
“I’ve read them all,” Beverly said. “Dr. Percivelle is such a brilliant man. “He’s helped me so much.”
“Oh, and how has he done that?”
“He’s helped me get in touch with my feelings,” Beverly said. “It’s really helped me and Lars out.”
“Lars?”
“That’s my husband.”
“Is he here?”
“What?! Oh no. I wouldn’t let him come, even if he wanted to.”
“Why not?”
“This is girl time. You know what I mean?”
Megan would have asked the other woman more but at that very moment, a middle-aged woman stepped out and for the next couple of minutes, she extolled the virtues of the self-help guru. “And so,” the woman said finally, “it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to ... Dr. ... Miles ... Percivelle.”
Megan clapped along with the rest of the audience as the big man strode out onto the stage. She’d seen pictures of him in her research but this was the first time she was getting a look at him in person.
He was a slender man in slacks and a turtleneck. His hair was mostly brown but there were the beginnings of gray on the sides, but it was his hands and his posture that betrayed his obvious energy. The man seemed to always be in motion.
There was something about the man, Megan thought. More than once, she caught herself almost ... well, not drifting off, really, but there was something. She’d catch herself almost zoning out and then she’d snap to attention again and she’d look around herself kind of guiltily before she’d begin listening to him again and it would start all over again.
He came to the end of his talk and the other members of the audience were clapping and suddenly, Megan found she was clapping, too, and for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to remember a word he’d said.
“Wasn’t he great?” Beverly asked even as she continued to clap enthusiastically.
Megan nodded.
“Would you like to meet him?”
“What?”
“Would you like to meet him?”
It was only then that Megan realized that was exactly what she wanted to do. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“We can go up and talk to him,” Beverly said. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.”
It seemed as if they weren’t the only ones with the very same idea. A group of women had gathered around the man, each seemingly wanting to have some of the great man’s time.
“Let’s hang back,” Beverly said.
“All right,” Megan agreed. It seemed as if the other woman knew she was waiting for something.
The crowd was beginning to die out and still Beverly waited.
There were only a handful of women left when Beverly finally stepped forward.
“Beverly,” the man said as he caught sight of her. “How nice to see you again.”
“You were terrific as always, doctor.”
The man waved that away. “Thank you,” he said. “But how are things with you and your husband? Everything’s going fine, I hope.”
The woman gushed just a little. “Everything’s going fine, thanks to you.”
“Now, Beverly. You know what I say. I merely guide, but you do the work.”
“I know, doctor, but without you to guide me, I would have been lost for sure.”
“Now, Beverly,” the man lightly admonished and then he turned his attention on Megan. “And who is this.”
“This is my friend, Megan,” the woman said.
“Megan Troy,” Megan said as she offered up her hand.
The man’s eyes widened just a little as he took her hand. “Ms. Troy,” the man said. “A pleasure.”
What was it, Megan thought as the man touched her hand. It was like she was seventeen again. It was like she was in awe of this man. “The pleasure’s mine,” Megan said.
The man chatted amiably with the women for a while longer with the women gathered around him before he finally drew things to a close. “Ladies,” he said. “It’s been a pleasure, but I really do have to go.” He looked back at Beverly. “Beverly, I really am happy that things are going so well for you.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“I hope to see you again, real soon,” the man said.
“I hope so, too,” the woman said and then the man was gone.
“I didn’t know you knew him,” Megan said.
“I don’t really,” Beverly said, “but there are a few of us who go to his talks whenever he’s in town.”
“What? You mean like groupies?”
“Groupies has such a negative connotation to it. I’d say more like really, big fans.”
Megan wasn’t sure what exactly the difference was.
“Would you like to get some lunch?” Beverly suddenly asked.
Why not, Megan thought. Beverly seemed to know a lot about Miles Percivelle and it wouldn’t hurt to pick her brain.
The two women were nearly done with their meal when Miles Percivelle was suddenly there in the restaurant and suddenly, it seemed as if Beverly couldn’t finish her meal fast enough. “I gotta go,” she said.
“Why?”
“I just gotta go.”
Yeah, right, Megan thought. Something was up, and after quickly paying the check, she was soon out of the restaurant and in search of her new friend.
She soon found her new friend and she wasn’t surprised to find that she was with Miles Percivelle. What did surprise her was that the man had his hand on Beverly’s ass and even more surprising was that Beverly seemed perfectly happy to have him keep his hand there.
The lech, Megan thought. She snapped a picture with her cell phone. If Neal McAllister wanted proof that the man was a fraud, then this was definitely something.
No, the reporter scolded herself. It was a start and that’s all it was. He might be fooling around with a married woman and that might be enough to ruin him, but if she wanted to be more than just a tabloid reporter, she’d have to do better than that.
Damn, they were headed to the elevators.
Megan hung back and she waited until the two of them had gotten on board and the doors had closed before she pressed the call button. Nervously, she watched the lights signal where the other elevator was headed. Come on, she thought to herself. Come on.
Fifth floor. Fine. She jumped onto her own car and she stabbed at the number five button before banging on the “Doors closed” button. Come on, she told the elevator. Come on. Go.
The elevator took its own sweet time. When it finally arrived on the fifth floor, the hallway was empty. Which way, Megan wondered. Which way had they gone.
She had her choice. Left or right, she wondered. Left or right.
She chose right for no other reason than she had to go one way or the other and right was as good as left as far as she was concerned.
She raced around the corner. Nothing there. The hall turned to the left, and when she came around that corner, there was nothing there either, but the hall was curving back to the right, and this time, she could hear voices as she neared the bend in the hall. She peered around the corner and there they were, only three doors down and with their backs to her. It was perfect.
They were stopping at a door and the man was reaching for a key. He slid the key into the door lock and he pushed the door open.
“You can come too, Ms. Troy,” the man said.
He couldn’t know she was there, Megan thought. He couldn’t know she was there, and it was only then that she realized she was stepping out from around the corner.
“I imagine you want to know all about me, don’t you.”
Megan could feel her desire growing as she stepped forward. This was wrong, she told herself. This was wrong.
The man paused and then he called out. “Ms. Troy,” the man called out. “We haven’t got all day.”
This was wrong, Megan told herself and yet she let herself be led forward and then she let herself be led into the man’s room.
“Am I correct in assuming that you’d like to know more about me?” the man asked.
Megan couldn’t help but nod.
“Beverly, if you’d please. I think our new friend here would like to see your friend. What do you think? Do you think we should show her?”
Ever since Megan had caught up with the two of them, Beverly had said nothing and that wasn’t about to change but there were other ways than words to say what needed to be said. Beverly stepped forward and then she was unzipping the man’s pants and she was pulling them down around his knees.
“And now the underwear,” the man said.
Beverly took the man’s underwear down as if that were also the most natural thing in the world, too.
“Would you care to suck my dick?” the man asked.
What? No, she didn’t want to suck his dick, only ... only her body didn’t seem to know that, because her body was stepping forward and then she was dropping to her knees and she was letting her mouth slide forward over the man’s dick.
“That’s a good girl,” the man said. “Suck it. Suck my cock.”
Megan couldn’t believe it. She was actually sucking the man off. No wait. That was incredible, sure, but that wasn’t the most fantastic thing. What was most fantastic was that she was sucking him off and she actually liked it.
“Oh yes,” the man groaned. “Oh yes. You do that so well.”
She shouldn’t like this, Megan told herself. She shouldn’t like it, and yet she did.
“Tell me, Ms. Troy. Would you like me to cum?”
There wasn’t any doubt in Megan’s mind about what he was asking her. He meant to cum in her mouth and as much as she knew she wanted to tell him no, she could feel herself relenting. In fact, it was very obvious what she wanted. In fact, she seemed unable to take her mouth away from his cock. In fact, not only could she not take her mouth away, it seemed as if she was destined to suck him harder.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned. “Oh fuck.”
He was going to cum, Megan told herself. She knew she shouldn’t want it and yet every time she tried to tell herself that, she seemed to just go out and suck him harder.
“Oh yeah,” the man groaned.
And now there was something new. Maybe she did want it, Megan told herself. Maybe she did want the man to cum inside her and even as that thought occurred to her, she could feel her body respond to that. She was sucking him harder. She needed him to cum. She needed him to ...
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned.
He was cumming. He was cumming in her mouth. How could he, and yet even as she asked herself that, Megan knew she’d played just as much of a role in his doing that as he had.
“You really are a good cocksucker, Ms. Troy.”
Shut up. That’s what Megan wanted to tell him. Shut up. That’s what she wanted to say, but she didn’t.
That night, Megan Troy was at home drinking a glass of wine and thinking about what had happened. She’d seen Beverly give Miles a check and he hadn’t even made any effort to hide it, and then he’d fucked her while Megan had watched, and ...
Megan took another sip from her wine.
And then he’d made her suck his cock again. No, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t made her do it. She’d wanted to do it.
She downed the rest of her glass and then she’d poured herself another.
She’d wanted to do it, she told herself again. In fact, she’d relished having him in her mouth and she’d liked it even more when he filled her mouth with his cum.
What the hell was the matter with her?
Megan took another sip from her wine. She’d lost perspective, she told herself. Somehow, she’d let him get under her skin.
She took another drink from the glass.
She’d let him get under her skin. No, she’d let him get inside her head, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how he’d done it.
She’d been compromised. Megan knew that. How could she do her story now. Really, she should call up Mr. McAllister and she should tell him that.
Yeah right. Her first big story and she’d blown it. Call the publisher up and tell him that. She’d be stuck doing obituaries until she was fifty. No thanks.
Megan took another drink from her glass of wine.
Besides, now that she knew what he was doing, she could fight it, right. She just had to make sure she didn’t succumb.
Yeah, and what if she succumbed anyway?
The answer to that came before Megan could block it out. That could be fun, too, her mind said, and Megan downed the rest of the glass right then and there in the hopes of drowning that errant thought. She wasn’t going to succumb, she told herself. She just wasn’t going to do it.
His next presentation was again in a hotel ballroom. A local bookseller had arranged for someone to sit in the back of the room with books for sale and once more, Megan found the man’s voice so incredibly seductive.
No, she told herself. No, it wasn’t that.
But it was. Megan knew it was and as much as she tried to lie to herself, she knew what the truth was.
When the talk finally came to a close, Megan felt herself coming to the front of the room. Just as she had with Beverly before, she hung back until most of the women were gone and only then did she step to the fore.
“Ah, Ms. Troy. How good to see you back here again.”
Megan couldn’t help but feel elated that he’d recognized her.
Of course, he recognized her, she chastised herself. The last time he saw you, you were sucking his cock and while the thought of her sucking his cock should have made her feel bad, it had the opposite effect instead.
He wasn’t even paying attention to her, Megan noticed. It wasn’t fair. It was all the other women, but not her.
And then it was just him and her and two other women.
And then him and her and one other woman.
And then just him and her.
“Would you care to join me,” the man asked.
“Would I,” Megan gushed. Of course she wanted to join him.
His hand was on her butt just where she’d seen his hand on Beverly the day before and now he knew why she hadn’t objected. God, she loved having his hand there. Now, if only he’d slide his hand into her panties.
They walked to the elevators and then they were back at his room.
“You know I’m going to fuck you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” the reporter gushed breathlessly.
The man stepped close to her and then his hands were pulling her top over her head. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked as his hands played with her tits.
“Yes,” she gushed again.
The man’s hands undid Megan’s bra.
“Oh my God,” the reporter gasped as the man’s hands fondled her tits.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” Megan moaned,
The man’s hands slid down and then he popped open the top button of the woman’s jeans which elicited a gasp from her.
Another button popped and another little gasp.
Another button popped. Another little gasp.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
The man pushed the woman onto the bed and then he was taking off her jeans. Moments later, he was taking off her panties as well.
“What do you want?” he asked again.
“I want you to fuck me.”
The man removed his sweater and then his slacks. He was down to his underwear and then he wasn’t wearing even that.
“What do you want again?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
The man straddled the woman and his cock pressed up against her pussy eliciting yet another moan from her.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped. “Oh fuck.”
Her pussy held out for only a moment longer and then his cock was sliding inside her.
“Oh fuck,” the woman moaned again. “Oh fuck.”
“I take it you like this.”
“I love it,” the woman gasped as that cock moved in and out of her pussy. “I love it.”
“That’s good to hear, but tell me, are you protected?”
“Huh?
“Are you protected,” the man asked even as he pushed himself inside her again.
“I ... I don’t understand.”
“Protection,” the man said again. “You know. Birth control. Are you protected.”
“Oh, umm, no.”
“Then I guess we can’t cum inside that cute, little pussy of yours, can we?”
“But I want you to,” Megan said and she realized she meant it. She wasn’t sure why she’d said it but she definitely meant it.
“Sorry,” the man said.
“B-but—”
But already the man was pulling out and he was moving up over Megan’s body. His hand stroked his cock even as his cock hovered over Megan’s mouth.
“Why?” the girl asked but even as she did, she opened her mouth.
“I think you know why.”
Oh my God, the girl thought, and yet she knew she couldn’t stop it. The man was stroking his cock harder and harder and then he groaned as his cock unleashed the first ropy volley of cum across the reporter’s face. “Suck it,” he told her. “Suck it.”
Megan wasn’t sure why but she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she just wrapped her lips around the man’s cock and she sucked.
“Oh yeah,” the man groaned. “Oh yeah. That’s it. Suck it.”
There was no hesitation this time. Megan opened her mouth and she let the man slide his cock inside her and somehow, even as he started to cum inside her mouth, it just felt so right to be sucking on his cock.
Megan woke up the next morning feeling bad. Her head hurt and she couldn’t get past the fact that she seemed to be pissed off at everything.
What the hell’s the matter with you, she finally asked herself, but the fact that she didn’t seem to have a ready answer only seemed to incense her even more.
The drive into work was tedious and did little to ease her mind. There was just something nagging at her, something she couldn’t seem to put her finger on, but there was definitely something there.
It wasn’t until she was finally walking into the building that if finally hit her. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t like what she was doing. She didn’t like what she was being asked to do. She was being asked to spy on Miles Percivelle and as far as she could tell, Miles Percivelle was a wonderful man. She had half a mind to march right into the publisher’s office and tell him that.
The only thing was she didn’t do that and that ticked her off even more. She didn’t like what she was becoming.
She’d told Miles Percivelle that she would come to his hotel room that afternoon. She could only hope that maybe he would fuck her again. She felt guilty about the deception but she knew what she needed. The fuckings, after all, were for her own good.
Should she tell him, she wondered. Should she tell Miles why she was there. That way, at least, he’d know there were people out to get him. But what if after she told him that, he decided he didn’t want to see her anymore. Could she live with that? Megan decided she couldn’t and so she decided she would go right on deceiving him.
The morning seemed to drag on endlessly. Everyone knew she was working on a special project so no assignments were given to her which meant she had all the time in the world to just sit at her desk and do nothing but of course, that meant she had nothing to do.
Finally, she gave up trying to find something to do around the office. Better to go and get something to eat, she told herself, and if she could kill enough time, maybe she’d be right on time for her appointment with Miles Percivelle.
She was early. Not that much early, but she was still early, but she just couldn’t help herself. She just hoped that Miles wouldn’t be mad. Heck, she just hoped that he’d be in.
She was about to knock again when the door to Miles Percivelle’s door opened. “Megan,” the man said. “You’re early.”
Oh crap, Megan chastised herself. She knew it. She should have waited.
“Won’t you come in?” the man asked.
Would she? Megan didn’t have to be asked twice.
“Can I assume that you are on birth control today?” the man asked.
Megan couldn’t help but nod breathlessly even as she felt her pussy jump. That question could only mean one thing, couldn’t it? At least Megan hoped so.
The man grinned. “That must mean you’re ready for another treatment, doesn’t it?”
Again, the best Megan could do was to nod breathlessly.
“Turn around,” the man told her.
Megan turned around.
She could feel the man stepping up behind her and then she could feel his hands reaching around her waist and even through his clothes and hers, she could feel his cock against her ass. “You’ve been a very good girl,” the man told her.
Megan couldn’t help but preen at the obvious compliment even though she knew if anyone else had called her that, she knew she would have hated to be called a girl.
“Should we see how good you really are,” the man said.
Megan couldn’t help but shudder as she felt the man pull the zipper down on her skirt and then his hands were back again on her front, one hand on the blouse, one hand rubbing her skirt between her legs.
“Should we see how good you are?” the man asked again.
“Oh yeah,” Megan moaned and even as she did, she felt the man’s hand slide up under her skirt.
“Did you wear what I asked you to wear?” he asked.
“Yes,” the reporter moaned.
But the man already had his hand up under her skirt and he could already feel how wet her pussy was. He pried her g-string to one side and he rubbed a finger against her clit eliciting yet another moan from the young reporter. “Look at you,” the man said. “So ready to fuck and you need it so bad.”
“Yes,” the reporter moaned.
The man’s hand continued to play with the girl’s pussy even as his other hand lightly held her stomach. “Are you ready?” he asked.
It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it but Megan answered it anyway. “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, I’m ready.”
The man’s hands left what they were doing and they tugged on the girl’s skirt. It didn’t take much for that skirt to end up at her feet.
Megan couldn’t help but moan as she felt the man’s jeans press up against her bare ass. The one hand was back again, back between her legs and working its way up under her g-string and up against her wet, little slit.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” the man said even as his other hand worked its way over the buttons on the girl’s blouse.
Megan could feel herself getting wetter as those hands unbuttoned her blouse. Oh geez, the girl thought. Her body was so hot. Her body was so fucking hot.
The last of the buttons were undone and then the blouse was being helped from her body.
The man’s hand was back again, squeezing her bra against her breasts even as the other hand continued to tease her pussy. “You like this,” the man said again “You like it when I do this.”
“Yes,” the girl moaned and it really was true. She did like what was being done to her.
The man’s hand was sliding around to the back and working the catch on the girl’s bra even as his other hand played with her pussy. From the ease with which he undid the bra, it was clear that hers was not the first bra that he’d removed that way.
And then the bra was being removed and his hand played with her tits even as his other hand played with her pussy. “Tell me what you need,” he said.
“I need you to fuck me,” Megan moaned.
“No,” the man corrected her. “That’s not what you need.”
Oh geez, Megan thought. She was so hot. She was so wet. She was so ... who was he to ... oh geez, who was he to tell her what she needed.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need to be fucked.”
“That’s not what you need,” the man said again. “Tell me what you need.”
Megan moaned helplessly. She didn’t know what the man wanted her to say.
“Tell me what you need,” the man said again.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” the reporter said.
“A little slut like you, you need to be owned.”
Owned? She wanted to say no, but ... but mmm, just the sound of that. Owned. Just the word. It sounded so good. It sounded so good rolling around inside her head.
“You want to be owned,” the man said again.
Maybe, she thought. Maybe that was what she did want.
“You want to be owned.”
“Yes,” Megan said and it felt so good to admit the truth. She did want to be owned.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I want to be owned,” and Megan purred softly. It sounded so good when she said that.
“You like that, don’t you.”
It was a statement, not a question and Megan nodded her agreement.
“Say it again,” the man said.
“I need to be owned,” the girl said again and this time, it sounded even better and more right.
“One more time,” the man said. “One more time to lock it in.”
To lock what in, Megan thought even as she said the words again. “I need to be owned.”
She wondered why she hadn’t realized it before. It was so obvious, Megan thought. It was so obvious. The thought of someone else telling her what to do, how to behave and how to act. The thought of giving herself over to another. The thought of becoming nothing more than someone else’s property.
Oh God. Just that word. Property. That word sounded so hot and so sexy. That was what she wanted. She wanted to become someone else’s property.
It wasn’t his jeans that she was rubbing up against, at least not anymore. It was his skin, and that meant ...
“One more time, Ms. Troy, and you won’t ever be able to resist yourself.”
Megan couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to resist, at least not really. Well, maybe there was a small part but she didn’t want to resist.
And that’s when she felt it, the feel of the man’s cock sliding between her legs. Oh geez, that was good. Oh geez.
“You like that,” the man said.
It wasn’t a question and it didn’t really need an answer but Megan gave him one anyway. She moaned as she felt the man’s cock slide even deeper inside her. “I love it,” she moaned. “I love it.”
“You’re almost there,” the man said.
Almost where, Megan asked. Not that it mattered of course. Oh geez. That cock felt so good. Oh geez.
She was bent over now as the man drove his cock between her legs. Sure, it took her tits out of range of his hands but it opened her up even more to the man’s cock and besides, she loved the way the man’s hands felt oh her butt and her lower back.
“You’re so tight,” the man said. “He’s going to like that.”
Megan couldn’t help but moan. She was so close.
“Are you protected?” the man asked.
What a time to ask that but Megan was glad she had an answer ready. “Yes,” she cried out. “Yes, I’m protected.”
“Then we’re ready.”
Ready, Megan thought. Ready for ... oh my God. That cock was coming at her. That cock was coming at her hard.
“We’re ready.”
Megan didn’t know about him but she certainly knew about herself. She knew she was ready.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned. “Oh fuck. Here it comes.”
Megan couldn’t help but feel a surge of pleasure as that cock finally came inside her. This was what she wanted, she told herself. This was what she needed.
“I think you’re ready,” the man said.
She was ready for whatever he wanted her to be ready for.
“You’re ready to meet your new master.”
“My what?! But I thought ... I mean, I thought you were—”
“Normally, it would be me,” Percivelle said. “You were right, you know. I do prey on woman, but it’s not just cash I want from them, and besides, we both know you don’t have any money.”
“But—”
“No, this time, I was doing this for someone else. This time, I was just getting you ready for someone else.”
She should object, Megan told herself. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a toy for men to pass around amongst themselves, and yet ...
“I think you’re ready to meet your new owner.”
My new owner, Megan thought. The man was right. She was definitely ready for that.
Neal McAllister was sitting in his office the next day when his phone rang. He picked it up and his secretary told him there was a man who wanted to speak with him. When the publisher heard who it was, he immediately had his secretary put the call through. “Miles,” the man said. “How good to hear from you.”
“I trust you got her,” the man on the other end of the line said.
The publisher smiled broadly although he knew Miles Percivelle couldn’t see it. “I tried her out last night,” the man said.
“And I trust she was satisfactory?”
“Miles, Miles, you know she was.”
“Yeah, but last time—”
“Was a fluke. You said so yourself.”
“Yes, I know but—”
“Miles, I trust you to get it right, and she was perfect.”
“So we’re good then.”
“Miles, you can count on me. My newspaper won’t be running any exposes whatsoever on your operation. As far as I am concerned, you are free and clear to do as you please.”
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. “We’re good then,” said Miles Percivelle.
The publisher smiled again. “We’re good, Miles, until the next time I need your services. We’re good,” he said, and with that Neal McAllister hung up the phone.