Under Wraps - Love Under Lockdown
“Suck,” he ordered.
Like the good little pet I was, I followed my sexy master’s instruction and dropped my whole mouth down his shaft until I had half-swallowed his wonderful cock. Easing back a bit so I wouldn’t gag myself, I started sucking on my wonderful master’s beautiful cock, working his tasty cum up into my eager mouth.
His load came in a massive torrent, like the spray of a fire hose; it was something of a challenge to keep it all in my mouth, yet still I prevailed, refusing to be defeated or let my master down.
I came in real life, still imagining Damien’s perfect body. I wanted him all to myself. I wanted him to take me. To take my virginity and give me all the pleasures of womanhood. I wanted to be dominated. To be his.
I wonder if it might happen during the assignment, if the crackling sexual tension between us might come to a head and explode in delicious pleasure for both of us. My rational mind told me not to be silly; he was my boss and off limits, though I found myself not actually caring very much. This realization was followed by the decision to seduce him and make him mine.
I heard the click of the door handle and jumped up like it was a starter pistol, getting into my best approximation of a professional posture.
Chapter Four
Damien
It was a beautiful sort of torture. Emma’s clothes were doing as much to accentuate her form as to conceal it. I wondered, however briefly, if it had been intentional. What seemed more likely was that she was going by what she was told in the corporate environment; not from her employers or the official company dress code, but from what she saw in the media.
She certainly wasn’t the only one. If not for their haircuts and briefcases, most of my male colleagues at the firm would be more or less interchangeable. Their clothes, and even mannerisms, made them clones of each other, all of them doing what they thought they were supposed to.
It made me stand out more, though I didn’t go completely off the reservation. No paisley shirts or plaid pants; my style was, if anything, more traditional. The difference between myself and my contemporaries was they went for a distinctly modern version of “tradition,” filtered through decades of changes. My style was straight out of the 1940s and wouldn’t garner a second look on the Oxbridge campuses.
I gave Emma the basics of the case we would be working on, after she signed the requisite non-disclosure agreements, of course. Our client was an online streaming service who were claiming their shows were being copied by a rival service that only slightly tweaked existing properties.
My first thought was fair use, but the more I looked, the more it looked like they had a case: Entire plots were being copied with few, tiny changes, with no obvious satire or commentary present. To make the deal sweeter, the defendants were connected with a number of marketing scams, basically telling people to send them money for bullshit services; a basic snake oil scheme. The company also had extremely deep pockets. They would hire their own lawyers of course. Several of them, probably.
Too bad it would all be for naught, with the defendants losing not only a large chunk of their ill-gotten fortune, but also one of their main sources of continued income, if the cease and desist orders held. And this case could open the door to more against them, as I’m sure my clients weren’t the only ones being ripped off.
I forced myself into a business-like state of mind, ignoring Emma’s luscious sexiness as much as was realistically possible. I threw myself into work. I had found out several years before that I could only focus on one thing at a time, which was both a blessing and a curse, getting me through law school with honors at an unusually young age, but also making me forget to eat to the point I got headaches. That problem was solved with the invention of an ordering app that let me set up regular deliveries.
“That’s not allowed?” Emma asked, when I had explained the case.
“It’s tricky. The basis of the whole thing is what is called ‘transformation.’ Basically, it is fine for people to come up with similar ideas. That happens all the time.”
“There’s nothing new under the sun.”
“Exactly. Nothing really new, anyway. The difference between an invention, an innovation, and an improvement is subtle, but extremely important. Intent is also important,” It takes a tremendous amount of effort to focus on the words and not Emma herself.
“If something is clearly a joke, it’s fine. Or if a protected work is used only in part, such as an excerpt in a review, removed from its original context, that’s also fine. It’s when something is basically taken wholesale, with minimal changes or re-contextualization, that there is trouble.”