It All Comes Out In The Wash

Amelia was feeling fucking magnificent. She was sitting at the top of the pile, in Jonathan's old chair, her stiletted feet propped up on his former desk. In just eight months, she had pretty much gained full control of Jonathan's assets, signing the last of the transfer documents that morning while he knelt, weeping silently, beside her. She had made herself a tyrant in the boardroom, a climate of fear that spurred a brutal efficiency. She made ruthless changes that Jonathan, with his soft heart and outdated sense of corporate loyalty, would never have made. She gutted legacy departments, outsourced HR to a firm that understood her management style, and created new, aggressive revenue streams that were making her pockets fuller than she had ever dreamed.

Sitting in her opulent office, she watched Jonathan, her property, as he diligently licked the soles of her leather pumps, his tongue tracing the expensive Italian leather as if it were a sacrament. She flicked through her call logs, boredom momentarily clouding her satisfaction. A number kept showing up, a number she didn't recognize but that she instinctively knew. She tutted in annoyance. "Won't that stupid old bitch just let it go?" she murmured to herself. She had no intention of ever going into the fucking laundrette business. The deal was a means to an end, a key to unlock the real prize. If this old crow kept on, Amelia might have to start making her life uncomfortable. With a few deft taps on her phone, she rerouted all unknown callers to a black hole, her number now a fortress, impenetrable to Mildred.

"Enough," she said, kicking Jonathan lightly away from her feet. He scrambled back onto his heels, his eyes trained on the floor. Amelia leaned back in her chair, her expensive skirt hiking up her thighs. She opened her legs and pointed, a single, imperious gesture. He knew just what to do. He crawled forward, his head disappearing under the tight leather of her pencil skirt, shimmying between the edges of her expensive stockings until his mouth found her naked, wet pussy. As his tongue began its work, a warm, familiar pleasure spreading through her, Amelia allowed herself a small, cruel smile. All the pieces were finally on the board, and they were all hers to move.