The Taming of Archer Cordell

Chapter One-2

He hoped that would not be his eventual fate, but he felt fairly safe. He still controlled several important businesses in his own right, and Esmeralda needed him—unless she got angry enough at him. And, after all, he truly loved her. She must know that, appreciate that on some level.

“Jordan, my dear?” the Countess asked, pulling his attention back immediately.

“Yes, mistress?” he said instantly, surprised to be addressed directly.

“If I wanted to ruin Archer, drive him into slavery, how would I do it?”

He paused. He knew that he could probably figure out a strategy for the Countess, but he didn’t want Archer anywhere around.

The Countess smiled. “Jordan, for once I won’t punish disobedience. I understand how you feel about Archer, and I tell you that you won’t have to worry. It’s true I wanted him as a slave, and I’d still like to play with him for a while. But he’s a threat to us now, because he’ll no doubt want revenge for his little visit. I need to have him broken and perhaps he and Cindy can visit Arabia together.”

That was entirely different. “Mistress, I live to serve you. I think there may be a way. But what about Alcina?”

“I don’t think she’s a threat by herself, and my spies tell me that Archer freed her and sent her away. She’s more a threat to his emotional equilibrium than to us, unless we go after her personally. And I admire her. She’s a lot like our Lizandra, isn’t she?”

Jordan nodded. Lizandra had been his secretary and mistress before she went over to the Countess’ side, now she dominated and tormented him nearly as much as did the Countess herself.

“Mistress, perhaps it’s time I became a businessman again, if only for a while…”

Archer

Archer Cordell woke up and rolled over and expected to see Alcina there, but she wasn’t, of course. He’d sent her away, but somehow he expected her to be there anyway. She was in his mind, and he couldn’t get her out.

There were two blondes in his bed, marketing executives for an electronics firm. He understood they were in his bed partly for business, but they were also the kind who did it for fun. Sport-fuckers, they were called, and that was fine with him. He knew the rules, they knew the rules, everyone was happy.

One blonde raised up, her hand supporting her chin. “‘Morning, Archer,” she yawned. Her blue camisole was held up by spaghetti straps, the right one had slipped off her shoulder, revealing one ripely swollen breast.

His valet had been in before anyone had awoken; there was a carafe of hot coffee, a pitcher of fresh orange juice, and some rolls on a tray. One fresh rose stood in a cut crystal vase. Archer reached out, took the rose, and presented it to the pretty blonde. “For last night,” he said.

The other blonde opened her eyes. “Where’s mine?” she said.

“Sorry—only one to a customer, first come, first served,” he said.

Her hand groped up his leg to his c**k and squeezed. “First come? I could arrange that,” she teased, and her mouth followed the course of her hand, hot and wet kisses along his inner thigh as her hand kneaded his rapidly swelling c**k. By the time her mouth reached it he was nearly swollen to full erection and she swallowed him deeply with a deep sucking action that was nearly too intense.

The other blonde—Blonde Number One, he thought, because he couldn’t remember their names—watched with interest as Blonde Number Two’s head bobbed up and down. “You want coffee or juice?” she asked Archer, who managed to murmur “Coffee” in return. Blonde Number Two raised her head just enough to say “Juice for me,” before returning to her task.

Gratefully, Archer took a big sip of the coffee as he reached down to stroke the sucking blonde’s hair. She lifted her mouth off his c**k, though she didn’t release her hand, took her juice and drained it in a single gulp before swallowing him again, this time with a slightly chilled mouth. Blonde Number One snuggled into bed beside him and began to kiss Archer’s neck and blow into his ears. A slim red-nailed hand slid up his chest to tweak his n*****s. “You liked that last night,” she whispered.

“I always like it,” he replied. He had very sensitive n*****s.

The two blondes had been very energetic bed partners, first making him the center of their attention through his first spurting orgasm, then putting on a show while he rested, kissing and fingering each other with abandon until he was ready again, then they f****d him in turns until he had exploded a second time.

The blondes changed places, Blonde Number One taking his c**k and nibbling around his shaft and flicking her tongue under its head while Blonde Number Two suckled his n*****s and toyed with his earlobes. He gave himself up to the sensation, leaning back into the large, soft pillows.

His valet—a new slave Daviel had purchased after his old valet had finished his servitude—came in to refresh the tray. He was new enough that the sight of the two blondes making love to his master was too hot to ignore; his eyes were fastened on them until he was done and he nearly spilled the tray in the process.

As the door closed, the blondes burst out in giggles. “Did you see his c**k swell? He looked like he was going to burst!” Blonde Number Two said to Blonde Number One, who was still busily sucking Archer’s c**k. He could feel the giggles around his swollen erection.

Blonde Number One raised her head slightly so she could speak. “Teasing slaves is like shooting fish in a barrel. No challenge in it.”

“Oh, I know, but it’s so much fun when they can’t do anything about it. You remember Mary’s slave?” Blonde Number Two sucked Archer’s neck flesh into her mouth like a vampire’s kiss while both hands played with his n*****s. “Our friend Mary’s ex-boyfriend got arrested for drunk driving three times, and when he was sentenced to six months of slavery, she bought him, and she decided she wasn’t going to let him come for the entire time. And she got all the girls she knew—especially ones he’d flirted with—to help her drive him crazy. There was this party—”

Blonde Number One continued to masturbate Archer’s wet and glistening c**k as she interrupted. “Oh, yeah… Mary brought him out and tied him spreadeagled on a coffee table. His legs and arms were pulled all the way down to the floor. His c**k was so swollen that it was purple, and Mary had bought an orgasm controller chip for him. Have you seen those? If you have one in, you don’t have the reflex that triggers coming, so no matter how hot you get you can’t quite get off. He was begging, he was so crazy, and we all took turns with him until he was nearly ready to cry. Mary had her new boyfriend and they ended up f*****g right in front of him, and you have never seen a guy so horny in your life!”

Blonde Number Two took over the story as Blonde Number One returned to his c**k. “We took a turn with him, and we were just teasing him at first, and then I was stroking his sides and he started to twitch and giggle and I realized he was like really ticklish, y’know? So then we started to tickle him, real lightly at first and he started squirming and pleading and then a couple of the other girls joined in and we made it a total tickling party on this poor dude and we weren’t even touching his c**k and…” She caught the look on Archer’s face and Blonde Number One felt the swelling and Blonde Number Two stroked his n*****s faster and faster, “Oh! Yeah, baby! Ooh! That’s right!” she cooed as he strained through his own explosion.

Blonde Number One licked the last traces of his come off her lips and smiled. “I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing. Want us to do your slave for you? Drive him crazy while you watch?”

“Or would you like us to pretend that you’re the slave?” teased Blonde Number Two, then both girls giggled as Archer’s c**k began to swell again.

“I guess that’s what he wants,” said Blonde Number One, bending back down to her task.”

“Is that what you’d like, baby?” giggled Blonde Number Two. “Would you like it if we tied you up just like a slave and teased you until you couldn’t take any more and then started to tickle you?” His moans were all the confirmation she needed. “You know a lot of guys like that. We’d do it for you if you wanted us to. Just tie you to the bed so you can’t get loose and then drive you f*****g nuts until you scream for mercy…” She spoke faster and faster as the two blondes played with him and his back arched with the force of his second orgasm, “Alcina…” he moaned in a near whisper as he came.

“Who’s Alcina?” asked Blonde Number Two.

“Nobody…” he replied, changing the subject with a kiss.

“God, you almost choked me that time, you came so much,” said Blonde Number One, reaching for another large glass of juice.

Blonde Number Two giggled in his ear. “We know your secret now,” she said. “Better be nice to us.”

Archer Cordell was exhausted and not a little embarrassed. “Don’t worry. You’ve got the contract,” he said brusquely.

“Hey, that’s not what we meant,” said the first blonde poutingly. She could see she’d crossed some invisible line.

“Yeah,” chimed in Blonde Number Two. “We were just teasing. You looked like you were enjoying it so much, and we just thought…”

“You thought wrong,” interrupted Archer with enough vehemence he knew he wouldn’t be believed. “It was just a little fantasy…and your natural talents,” he said in an ameliorating tone. “You’re both absolutely incredible.”

Mollified, the second blonde said, “You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled, the Archer Cordell charm flooding back. He slid out of bed and wrapped an arm around the second blonde’s waist, pulled her to him, bent down to kiss her. Then he pulled Blonde Number One close and kissed her as well, the three bodies pressed warmly against each other. “And now, my dears, as much as I think you could easily inspire me to another round, I’m afraid I have some pressing business.”

The girls sulked, but allowed themselves to be kissed and stroked, then escorted away by his new valet. Archer Cordell caught the look between the two girls; his valet was in for some teasing before he would be able to get them out of the house. Well, perhaps he would enjoy it, thought Archer, and his c**k tingled as he flashed on the story the blondes had told him.

And then he shivered as he thought once again about his captivity at the hands of the Countess Esmeralda. Tied, helpless, drugged, tortured far more cruelly than the slaveboy in the blondes’ story, he had almost been broken before his rescue.

Alcina. She had saved him. His slave—whom he had used and abused and tormented for the sake of his own lusts—had freed him from the cruel bondage of slavery, but having her around he risked falling into a deeper slavery yet. He was afraid he was falling in love, and that wasn’t acceptable, wasn’t an option for him. He had to get rid of her, but he had to pay his debt to her first, so he had manumitted her, released her from her voluntary slave contract, then given her five million dollars as a reward.

She was gone, and everything in him wanted her back, but it was too late. Voluntary slaves, especially, served under false names and their identities were guarded. He didn’t even know her real name or where to find her. And she would normally change her appearance, redo herself the way people did, so he wouldn’t recognize her even if he passed her on the street one day.

It was the right thing to do, he told himself, though in his heart he wasn’t nearly sure about it. His sleep was still disrupted with dreams, strange erotic dreams of submission and humiliation, and eventually in every one of the dreams, Alcina would appear, and when she appeared, she would be his owner, his jailer, his mistress. He would wake with a hard and swollen c**k, sometimes with his belly covered in nocturnal emission, embarrassed and unsettled and weak and worried. He could easily have gotten treatment; mental health was now a science, no longer an art. But he didn’t. At some level this was important to him, however disturbing, and he wanted to keep his mind his own.