The Perfect Scandal

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next week resumed like normal. Mallory was regularly giving me attention once again. She helped me study for finals, took me out for lunches, and made a habit of tying me up with cuddling as aftercare. Her touches were getting softer the more obedient I became. I would notice her stealing short glances in my direction; whether we were in the office or playing.

They came more so when she had me tied it. It occurred at least five times so far. The first time, I was caught off guard. My hands were bound by jute, raised above my head, and connected to some king of pulley system attached to the ceiling. She had just finished assaulting my abdomen with a thick flogger, painting red streaks across my skin. My head was down to begin with, but when I raised it, I noticed blue eyes glimmering with an emotion that I could not pinpoint. It seemed as if it were a mixture of desire, satisfaction, and a saddened nostalgia. The glance sent chills down my spine, tingling in my nerve endings until Mallory snapped away and started a new war against my body by pinching my skin with clothes pins. The other times were either in the same passive moments of pleasure, in the midst of paperwork, or in other simple instants. I was enjoying the attention, despite the uncertainty of what it meant.

But, Mallory still neglected to discuss what happened in the hotel room. When I brought up the topic, she either switched to something else, succeeded in distracting me—through sex and or food—or threatened punishment. I continue to drop the issue, at least until the previous incident blew over, and I continued to get the same answer; nothing.

It was getting aggravating, to say the least. I wanted answers, even if they were not the answers that I desired. Even if she said she never wants me to be so eager to be around her, and even if she wants to break off the arrangement. Whether the answer resulted in a positive or negative outcome, I knew I needed some kind of answer.

"Have you completed your exams?"

"I glanced up from my computer screen, minimizing the multiple choice problems. "Not yet. I'm still finishing psychology."

Mallory clicked her pen, retracting the tip back into the cartridge. She removed her glasses, revealing eyes void of makeup. "And how long do you have left? I would like to get lunch before evening comes."

Pulling the browser back up, I looked at the current problem I was on, nothing the 94/125 typed before the actual question. "About thirty questions." After an hour and a half, I thought I was making great time with the amount of questions and difficulty of them. The questions always had one obviously wrong choice, a possible choice, and two choices that looked like the right answer but one always had a small flaw. The only problem was distinguishing which one had the flaw and which didn't.

A loud, ungraceful groan fell from usually refined lips, and I couldn't help but laugh. As impatient as Mallory is, I knew she wouldn't tell me to leave my exam unfinished, or "do it later". There were countless times where she reminded me that education was important, and she would be sure that I got one. There were also times where she threatened a punishment for my failure to complete discussion boards in a timely manner or inadequately complete a quiz. I assumed they were empty threats, at least until she had me write "I will complete all college assignments to my best ability. If I don't, my Miss has all authority to punish me" fifty times. Again, I thought that was a joke, but was corrected by a spanking.

Reading question 95, I went through the answers mentally. "I'll hurry, Miss," I murmured, smirking. I felt powerful in the situation, and I hoped it wasn't obvious.

Mallory didn't respond, so I continued my work, thankfully finishing in a half hour. My stomach growled, and I glanced up at the clock.

1:37

Closing my laptop, I stood and walked over to Mallory, who was paying more attention to papers than she was her submissive. I crouched down, on my knees besides her, and shifted underneath her desk. The view was becoming my favorite, especially when—like today, Mallory had opted to wear a skirt, most likely unconcerned about the frigid weather outside. Starting at her ankles, I ran my hands up her legs gradually with feathery touches. Her skin reacted, leaving a trail of gooseflesh.

"Miss Holland," the older woman warned with a dangerously low voice.

I hummed, continuing my journey as her skirt bunched to her hips and nude panties were revealed to me. Groaning in contentment, I leaned forward, only a tongue length away from her cunt. The strong scent of Mallory rushed into my nose, clouding my judgement and fueling my lust. Exhaling a shaky puff of air, I watched as the woman above me twitched in her chair. Still not hearing her object to my idea, I pushed her underwear to the side and got closer. I thrusted my tongue out, stealing a taste of Mallory. Not satisfied with just that, I grabbed her hips and forced my way closer, running my tongue through folds.

A strong hand tangled itself in my hair. "Miss Holland," Mallory purred, her tone changing completely.

Humming once again, I continued to devour her, swirling my tongue around her clit with ease. She twitched against my mouth, the small bundle of nerves jumping up and down. Toned thighs began closing, leaving barely enough space for my head. Still, I ate, moaning at the sheer taste of Mallory Morgan. She almost tasted spiced, like whiskey. I wasn't sure if her pussy changed flavors (not possible right?), or if I just picked up different things of different days.

"Faster Esme," her voice rang, desperate, "please."

Not able to deny her when she asked—or at all really— I wrapped my lips around her clit, sucking while my tongue flicked it at random moments. The hand in my hair pushed me closer, and I wondered if I could just stay here for the rest of my life.

In the midst of my unconventional lunch, a series of knocks interrupted the soft mewls of Mallory Morgan. I was ready to pull away, but the hand kept me in place. "I will fucking kill you if you move from that spot." She hissed quietly.

Cherishing my life, I tucked my feet underneath me, making sure you couldn't see them from the other side of the desk and continued. The door opened.

"Mrs. Morgan?"

Vaughn's voice rang through. Cursing internally, I slowed my pace down, making sure that Mallory could be as composed as possible.

She shifted again, pushing her hips even closer to me. "Yes dear?" Her voice was strained, but only slightly. She could easily fake a headache if Vaughn got nosey.

"Councilman Walkman is on line one. He mentioned the new waterline project on Main Street."

"Tell the councilman to call tomorrow," I ran my top teeth over her clit and her breath hitched, "My schedule is booked."

"Yes ma'am."

Seconds after, the door opened and shut. Nails dig into my scalp, and I resumed my previous pace, sucking and flicking. It wasn't a even minute before thighs collapsed against my head, gluing my ears down, and hips bucked. Mallory howled as quietly as possible, the guttural sound lingering in her throat. I made long strokes with my tongue, caressing every rush of warm nectar out of her.

I was quickly pushed away, and crawled out. Upon emerging, Mallory stared at me with hazy, satisfied eyes. "You've gotten much better," she praised, forcing herself out of her post-orgasm state and fixing her skirt and panties.

"Thanks?"

"Now," Mallory chirped, her mood seemingly improved. She stood up and ran her tongue over my lips. "Let's head out, Esme. I'm famished."

The brunette began filing away her papers, and I followed suit, stuffing all my things into my backpack. Soon enough we were out the door, a mask of indifference hiding the satisfaction written on Mallory's face, and a wide smile plastered on my lips.