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All of Me

Novel By: LadyLovely
Erotica



Young maid Sophie has her work cut out for her when her boss, Everett Ashford, takes their "professional relationship" to a whole new, never before discovered level. But is the fabulously rich and handsome Everett as perfect as he would appear? And what about his suspicious, lurking wife Victoria, who resents Sophie and will do everything in her power to take the poor girl down?

"All of Me" tells the story of a woman trying to figure out her place beneath the secretive and surprisingly sexual roof of the Ashford manor. Aroused by the intoxicating lifestyle introduced to her by her employer, she delves into a world of BDSM and domination that is truly foreign to her, but completely enticing. All the while trying to avoid being discovered by her new master's wife and her ever growing determination to see Sophie disappear. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Submitted:Jun 16, 2014    Reads: 2,334    Comments: 9    Likes: 11   


4.

I kick stubbornly at the door of my apartment, working hard to balance two brown bags of groceries as I try to force my way inside. The stupid door always sticks. It's especially a nuisance in the summer time when the frame swells and basically squeezes the door to the point where it is nearly impossible to open it.

When I finally manage to enter my apartment, I'm ruddy faced and exhausted. The entire events of the day are pulling at my limbs and filling my shoes like lead. I'll be lucky if I'm able to make it to dinner before collapsing.

Everett avoided me all day after our little encounter in the closet. I'm sure his intentions were to let me think but I could hardly do that. Every time I even allowed myself a moment to mull over his offer, I felt hot shame coloring my cheeks and the taste of bitter bile in my mouth. It was too embarrassing to even consider.

I haven't even set down my armful of groceries before Hannah comes flying at me, throwing herself at my legs and clinging to me like a little monkey. I can hear her giggles as she presses her face into the hem of my dress.

"Hello, munchkin." I reach down and half-heartily pat her hair. "Did you give mummy any trouble today?"

My sister giggles again as response and pulls away to grin up at me. She is the loveliest child I have ever seen in my life. It sounds awfully biased, since I'm her sister, but I truly believe there's never been a prettier girl. She has the same rich red hair that my father had, paired with a light dusting of freckles across her delicate face. Her eyes are hazel and framed by thick lashes that make the colour simply come alive. I look at this young girl and I thank God that she took after our father and not our mother, like I did. Hannah will grow up a beauty and not have to face the same bitter bullying that I had to endure.

She is grabbing at the bags I hold and when I bend down to show her what's inside, her face lights up. I know how much she likes cinnamon rolls with white icing. The extra hour Everett paid me for today was enough to allow me to buy the treat while I shopped for dinner.

"Cinnamon!" Hannah exclaims and continues to paw at the bags, even as I straighten up again.

"Not until after dinner." I look over her head into the room, and it is only then do I notice that we are not alone.

The building technician's son, Joe, stands on a ladder in the middle of the living room, watching our exchange with an amused smile. I can see that he's unscrewed the light from the ceiling and taken it off completely, leaving a few exposed wires hanging down and the room in almost darkness.

"Hello," he says, saluting me with a large grin. "Long day at work?"

I gather the bags closer to my chest and return his smile with a tentative one of my own. "Joe. I see you're fixing the light?"

"Yep!" he looks up at his handiwork, obviously proud. "Almost done, too."

"I suppose my mom called you up?"

"She said it was flickering again. It was giving her a headache." He shrugs one shoulder and looks at me again. "I think I've found the problem but if it continues, you may have to think about moving."

His joke falls flat between us. I remain silent, staring up at him as he continues fiddling with the wires. He's wearing his usual "work outfit", which consists of dirty blue jeans and a tight fitting navy tee-shirt. His brown hair, as per usual, was uncombed, unkempt and bore the same look I imagine someone would have after riding with the top down for too long. In other words, he was simply Joe.

I catch sight of the muscles in his strong, tanned forearms flexing and unflexing as he works. Quickly, I avert my eyes and focus on Hannah who is busily trying to climb up my side and grab the cinnamon rolls out of the bag.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask Joe as I start towards the other end of the room, Hannah hot on my heels.

He makes a dismissive noise. "Nah, don't worry about it, Soph."

"Don't be ridiculous." I turn to look at him over my shoulder, feigning calm as I mentally calculate the amount of money we have left over this month after bills. I'm not sure it's enough to pay him but I don't like it when he insists on doing the work for free. My family is not a charity and it angers me to feel like one.

This time, Joe stops what he's doing and climbs down one rung of the ladder, running a hand through his mussed hair thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you could pay me this time."

I square my shoulders, ready for an amounts. "Okay. What do I owe you?"

"A date?"

This time, I can't tell whether he truly is joking or not. When he doesn't smile or laugh it off, I realize he's serious.

"Oh, Joe…" I lower the grocery bags to the ground and take my time before saying any more. "I…I'm very flattered…but I have too much going on right now to even…think about going on a date. I'm so sorry."

For the briefest of moments, he appears to have been hurt by my words. But as quickly as it came, it is gone again. He grins and returns his hands to the wires above his head. "You're breaking my heart Soph, but I understand."

I smile in spite of myself. "Does your father know your taking dates in exchange for payment nowadays?"

"I take money from everyone else in the building." Joe lifts the light back up towards the ceiling with one hand, his drill in the other. "You're the only one I'd accept a date with."

I'm trying to think of a witty response when the room suddenly fills with light. Triumphant, Joe descends down the ladder and faces me once his feet are on the ground again. "Ta-da."

"Thank you so much," I say, reaching out my hand for him to shake. He looks at it for a moment, his smile wavering slightly before taking it into his own. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," he says, giving my hand a hearty shake. "Is there anything else that needs fixing while I'm here?"

A list instantly begins to compile in my head. The door, the tiles in the kitchen, the fridge, the toilet, the windows, the heating, the air ducts that whistle at night… I bite my tongue though, thinking off how expensive the repairs will be and knowing fully well Joe won't make me pay a cent of it. I can't keep letting him do everything for free. The guilt and shame is enough to keep me up at night. I need actually money. I need to stop taking hand-outs and actually support myself.

"Nothing I can think of," I respond with a half smile.

Joe nods, looking around the room himself and, I'm sure, noticing everything that I haven't mentioned. But he says nothing more, and lets himself out, struggling for a moment with the sticky door before managing to pry it open. He throws me a dubious look at this, to which I just shrug. When he's finally gone, I allow myself to relax. It only lasts a few minutes.

"What's for dinner?" Hannah asks.

I pick up my bags and start for the kitchen. "I got some soup. You like chick pea, right?"

I find my answer in her moan.

"I'm sorry but it was on sale and that's what I bought." I place the bags on the counter and begin unloading them. The cans are slightly dented which I imagine is the cause for their low price but the soup inside will be perfectly fine.

"Where's mom?" I ask, because I've just realized I haven't seen her once since I arrived home. "Is she out?" I pray this is the reason. I've been on her for weeks to go out and find a new job since she was laid off from the shoe store she worked at previously. Hannah, though, suddenly sobers and gives a small shake of her head.

"Mummy's been in bed all day," she says quietly. "She's sick."

My hands still their movements for a moment as I fight the growing resentment inside of me. Mummy is sick, I suppose, but not in the way she's led Hannah to believe she is. I know the sickness is in her head, one that that has yet to learn how to overcome.

"We shouldn't bother her then," I say finally. "Why don't you go get washed up while I put the soup on?"

Hannah hesitates. "Do I still get cinnamon rolls after?"

"Yes, yes of course."

In an instant she has come alive again and hurried off to the bathroom. I'm tempted to go see mom, knowing fully well how I will find her. She'll be laying in bed with her pyjamas on, the curtains pulled tightly shut and the television flickering rerun episodes of Judge Judy. I want to go talk to her but I know that she'll roll onto her side and ignore my pleas for her to please go find a job. As long as I'm making money, she doesn't seem to think that she has to.

But I'm not making enough money. Not nearly enough. There's a stack of envelopes on the counter that are taking up more room than the toaster. Unpaid bills, urgent notices… There's no way I'll be able to afford rent this month, not after the land lord raised the amount last week. We'll be out on our asses before fall.

I know what I have to do. It's my only option. We simply can't keep living like this and if my mom isn't going to do anything about it…then I have to. If not for her, then for Hannah.

I take the phone off the wall and dial the number with hesitant fingers. Every inch of me is saying this isn't a good idea. But I know that I really don't have a choice. If I'm being offered money, the best decision is to take it. Even if I don't exactly agree with the means.

"You've reached Everett Ashford."

I don't agree with his curt way of answering his cell phone but I suppose he is a business man. And, after all, this is technically a business deal. I shouldn't expect anything but formality with him.

"Sir," I whisper, looking over my shoulder to check that Hannah hasn't returned from the bathroom yet. "It's me. Sophie. I'm calling about your offer…I'm in."

I can hear him inhale deeply, pleasantly. "Ah, Sophie. I didn't expect an answer from you so soon."

"I've had a lot to think about. I need that money."

"You won't regret this."

"I'm hoping you're right."

Everett chuckles. "Oh believe me, I am. We start tomorrow."

"What about Victoria?" I ask breathlessly, feeling panic rising in me at just how soon this is all to begin. "Won't she be home?"

"She's spending the day out of town with some girls from the society. I've paid them quite generously to keep her occupied."

I touch a hand to my neck as I realize Victoria's excitement from the morning, when she announced her lunch invitation, was all a lie. She may have thought the girls have accepted her but they were being paid to put up with her.

"What about you?" I ask finally. "You can't take another day off work." Why am I trying so vehemently to put off starting our…arrangement tomorrow? I need the money. There's no point avoiding the consequence of the deal.

"I own my own business. I run an entire company. I am my boss. If I want to take a day off, I can. If I want to take twelve, I can."

I let out a breath I don't realize I've been holding. "You're a man of great power."

"Everyone does as I say. In fact…" He's silent for a moment. I find myself holding the phone closer to my ear, wondering just what he's going to say next. And then, he speaks. "In fact, I have your first instruction for tomorrow."

"What is it?" I ask quietly.

"You are to wear no panties tomorrow."

My eyes widen. I've never gone without panties before. It sounds so…naughty. "Oh," I manage.

I hear him make a small noise in response, sort of like a pleased groan. "And I want you to wear that same leopard print bra you were wearing the night I caught you in my room. It's so goddamn sexy."

Absently, I pull at the collar of my dress and peer down inside. My boobs do admittedly look pretty fantastic in it. Although they don't exactly fit, the bra gives them a wonderful shape, a sort of perfect roundness that I can't really achieve without the added support.

"Okay," I say into the phone. "Deal."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow, Sophie." And with that, he hung up.

*

I find myself standing in Everett's office the next morning, exactly three minutes after the door shuts behind Victoria. I wasn't expecting him to be so quick to usher me away. I do, after all, have chores that need to be done before Victoria returns. But Everett was adamant and once Victoria was out of the house, he told me to meet him upstairs in his office.

I'm never allowed in here. During my first day of work, when I was given the run down of the home, Victoria was adamant in that I am to stay out of Everett's office. I'm not sure who cleans it, but it isn't me. Before today, I had never even seen what it looks like inside.

But now I'm standing against his desk, my entire body trembling as Everett silently takes me in. I don't think there's anything so unnerving than having someone remain absolutely wordless as their eyes drag up and down your entire body. It's especially awful when it's someone like Everett staring at you, because he has this uncanny ability to keep his face absolutely emotionless. I have no idea what he is thinking. Is he regretting his decision?

He looks so good today. Everett looks good every day but there's something about today that just makes him look even sexier. Maybe it's his posture. He's standing with his shoulders squared and hands resting on his hips. It's a very dominant pose, one that dares you to question his authority and see what happens.

He had on a suit this morning while he ate breakfast. I imagine it was a façade for Victoria's sake so she wouldn't suspect he wasn't doing anything but going right to work. After she left, he changed. Now he's wearing a pair of jeans and a black collared golf shirt. Seeing him so casually dressed makes this feel all the more intimate. I've only ever seen him in his suits.

"You're making me nervous," I admit once the silence has become much too unnerving for me to stand any longer.

His eyes had been lingering on my chest. When I spoke they flickered up to my face and he pushed away from the closed door, where he had been standing. "Are you wearing any panties?"

"No. You told me not to." I fidget uncomfortably, something he notices at once.

Everett raises an eye brow. "How am I supposed to believe you?"

"I'm not wearing any," I insist.

"I need proof, Sophie." He surveys me for a moment before making a slow spinning motion with his hand. "Turn around and put your hands on the top of the desk."

I'm breathing heavily at his instructions. The matter-of-fact, nonchalant way he is speaking is sending shivers down to the base of my spine. Shaking, I obediently turn my body and lean down to rest my hands against his desk. My back is arched and my rear is lifted slightly. It's a humiliating pose but I feel a weird twinge of excitement stirring within my lower half.

I don't hear Everett's approach, but I feel his hands on my hips. He gives a gentle squeeze, bunching up the fabric of my dress into his fists. I can feel it rising on my legs to the point where it's just barely covering my bottom. Biting down hard on my lip, I wait. When he lowers my stockings to the ground, I feel my heart pick up to a pace that I can hear hammering in my ears. And then, the dress is lifted and my panty covered rear is revealed.

The silence is agonizing. I don't know what Everett is thinking but his hands have frozen on my hips as he slowly breathes in and out. Then, he gives a loud sigh and pushes my dress up even further. Now my entire bottom is open to his gaze. Even with my panties on I feel horribly exposed.

"Sophie," he says in a cool voice, "I thought you said you weren't wearing any panties."

"I couldn't do it," I admit shamefully. "I couldn't come to work and serve Victoria toast and know I wasn't wearing any panties. It was too embarrassing."

He's stepped closer to me so his legs are on either side of mine, looming over me so his chest is touching my back. One of his hands is braced against the desk. The other slips from my hips and rests palm-down on the cheeks of my panties. I gasp at the contact.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sophie." He speaks against my ear, nuzzling his face into the side of my neck as he breathes me in. "I thought you would be able to handle something as simple as no panties. Apparently I was wrong. You disobeyed me on the first instruction. What does that say about your dedication to our arrangement?"

The tips of his fingers slip underneath the waistband of my panties. I jerk at the feeling, trying to squirm away from it, but his body keeps me in place.

"I'm sorry," I gasp. "I…I won't wear any panties tomorrow. I promise."

Everett clucks his tongue in disapproval. "But how does that help me today, Sophie? I didn't want you wearing any panties today." He sighs and hooks his thumb so he's gripping my underwear. "Do you know what this means?"

My entire body is tensed with fear. "No." I whisper.

Everett yanks my panties down so they fall and collect at my ankles. I flinch when the cool air of his office passes over my bare skin. I immediately want to reach behind me and pull the fabric of my dress down so I'm covered. But I'm afraid to move.

"It means," Everett continues, "that I'm going to have to punish you today. Which is a pity, really, because I was planning on giving you pleasure. Bad girls don't get pleasure though. What do bad girls get, Sophie?"

My mouth is suddenly so dry that I can't speak. What does all of this mean? What is he going to do to me? I don't get to think any further. His hand suddenly comes down on my bare bottom, so hard that I cry out from the shock more than from the pain. But once his hand is gone, my skin begins to feel hot. It stings. And what's more, I can feel his groin pressing into my ass, and the very apparent erection there as well.

"Answer me, slut," he growls into my ear.

"Punished!" I say desperately. "Bad girls get punished!"

Everett is silent again. And then, "Well…if you say so." He steps away from me, but I can still feel him hovering behind my stooped body. "Since this is your first offence, and it's also the first day, I'm only going to use my hand. But, you should know, I don't like using my hand. I like using my paddle. It's much more effective."

A paddle? The sting in my bottom seems to increase just at the mention of this.

"So for today, I'll use my hand, and give you ten spanks." Everett touches my ass again, rubbing the sore spot from his previous slap. "You have to count out each one aloud. Miss one spank and I start all over again, plus an additional spank. Got it?"

I swallow thickly. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes…sir?"

"Good." He sounds pleased as he readies himself behind me. I feel his hand leave my bottom, and in the next moment, it reconnects again. I gave a loud cry as this one feels much harder than the last.

"One!" I gasp.

The next slap is on the opposite cheek. "Two!"

I find so many aspects of my punishment hard to comply with. It's hard to remain bent over and not side-step out of his reach. It's hard to keep my hands steady on the desk when my arms feel weak with exhaustion and I just want to let go and collapse. It's especially hard to keep counting the spanks when each one leaves me breathless. By the time we reach nine spanks I'm barely able to muster out the word.

"Ni…" I whisper as hot tears begin to slide down my cheeks.

Everett leans down towards my face. "What was that?"

I try again, but this time I can't even get out the first letter. I'm feeling so overwhelmed with the sensations rolling through my body; the pain of each slap, the humiliation…the shameful pleasure that has made me surprisingly wet. Why am I feeling aroused from this? That should be the last thing I feel.

"Say it, Sophie, or we will start all over again."

I lift my head at Everett's words and muster everything inside of me. "Nine."

When he gives me the tenth spank, I use the energy from my cry to shout out "ten!" at the same time. And then it's done and I slump against the desk, sobbing quietly as the pain in my bottom only worsens with the lack of contact. I can't even imagine how red it must be.

"You have such a sexy ass, you know that Sophie?" Everett's hands return to my bottom, but this time he's rubbing against the hot skin, lifting and dropping my ass as he groans quietly. "So big and round… you should be very proud."

I have no response so I remain quiet, resting my head against the cool top of his desk as I struggle to catch my breath. I've never felt this way before. It's all so new and alien, I'm not sure how I should react.

Everett's finger slides from the top of the curve of my ass, down to my damp centre. Suddenly forgetting the pain in my bottom I whimper and feel my entire body respond to the intimate touch.

"You're absolutely soaked," Everett muses as he rubs the pad of his finger against my sodden lips. "Did that spanking turn you on, you little slut?" I'm not sure whether he wants an answer so I say nothing. But when his finger suddenly dips inside of me so roughly that I cry out, I realize it wasn't, in fact, rhetorical.

"Yes!" I whimper.

His finger probes even deeper. "Yes what?"

"It turned me on when you spanked my ass!" I push back against his finger, subconsciously urging his movements.

Everett begins to pump his finger in and out of me, his other hand reaching out to grasp onto my ponytail and pull my head back slightly. I let out a gentle moan and squeeze my eyes shut, overcome with the pain and pleasure mixing beautifully in my core. I feel the warnings of an oncoming orgasm approaching and arch my back in anticipation.

"Are you going to cum?" Everett asks as my moans get louder and more persistent.

I can only nod in response.

Just as I'm beginning to tremble with the first of the pleasurable shocks, Everett withdraws his finger. I groan, my orgasm pulling away further and further the longer I am without his motions. I slump dejectedly and fight to calm my breathing, both angry and frustrated that he has taken my release from me.

My pony tail is given another harsh jerk. The force of this one rears me backwards so I'm nearly upright, my neck bent painfully. Everett licks up the shell of my right ear, and then nips at the lobe before speaking.

"Bad girls don't get to cum," he whispers, and then releases me.

I fall down onto my knees at his feet, my sore bottom screaming as it makes contact with the hardwood floors. He steps away from me and goes around his desk to sit. As I gather myself to my feet, he shuffles loose papers and gazes at me nonchalantly. I start to pull up my panties but he stops me. "No. Leave those."

"Sir…" I begin, but I'm not sure where I'm going with this.

Everett points to the door. "That'll be all, Sophie. I believe you have chores to do." He looks back down at his papers and I take this as my cue to leave. I shuffle painfully towards the door of his office, wincing with each step. I don't know how I'm supposed to clean his house with my bottom as sore as it is, but I know I'm going to have to try. This place must look spotless when Victoria returns.

"Oh, and Sophie?"

I turn at the sound of Everett's voice, my hand on the doorknob. "Yes, sir?"

He looks up, and in spite of myself, I feel terrified as his expression clouds darkly. And then, he speaks. "Don't ever let me catch you wearing panties in this house again. Or your next punishment will be much, much worse."

A/N: So...this is super long. It's literally 10 pages and I usually post a chapter after I've reached 6 or 7... but I didn't want to split this into two chapters. I just hope the long read didn't irritate anyone ;) Thanks again for reading and keeping up with the story! I'm loving the response this is getting! You're all so fantastic!





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