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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 9 Jul 2002 18:17:24 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Emma - Chapter Thirteen {Bradley Stoke}{FF}
Date: Tue,  9 Jul 2002 23:10:03 -0400
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Emma
====

Resume of whole novel
=====================

Emma is no stranger to the world of pornography, working as she does 
for one of the premier sex television stations. Nor is she a stranger 
to the naked body, being a dedicated naturist. However, in almost 
every other way she is naive and innocent. This is the story of how 
she finds herself, and also about the lives of people around her. 
In this novel, soap opera meets sex fiction. 


For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
          (mirror: http://www.bradley-stoke.barrysworld.net)


Previously
==========

Emma is promoted to a position of responsibility at Harlot TV, which
is seeking to gain a fourth X.



Chapter Thirteen
================

It was Amelia to whom Emma reported at work. Amelia was a 
stunning woman, Emma thought, and in the most objective way 
possible. Certainly, the way she dressed was quite unusual. She wore 
stocking, suspenders and very high stiletto heels, but then, except for 
the cloak she sometimes threw over her shoulders and which came 
down to just below her buttocks, she wore nothing else at all. Amelia 
certainly wasn't a naturist, otherwise, like Emma, she wouldn't have 
affected any clothes at all. Nor was she particularly poor. Her clothes 
changed quite frequently - although they remained the same in 
principle - and looked fairly expensive (not that Emma was at all sure 
how much clothes actually did cost). Emma learnt that Amelia owed 
her position as one of the Executive Directors of Harlot TV to holding 
a substantial stake in the company's shares, and indeed she had been 
one of the company's founders. She'd made her fortune as a sex 
actress while in her teens, and, unlike many sex actresses, she'd saved 
her money and chose to invest it in the relatively new venture of sex 
television, rather than spend it on drugs and gambling.

Emma found Amelia rather intimidating. It wasn't Amelia's age, 
though she was a little older than Emma, being in her early thirties. 
Indeed despite being older, Amelia was still very attractive and took 
care to remain so. She had a trim figure which would have been 
athletic except that it was offset by her voluptuous full breasts which 
may or may not have been surgically enhanced. Her black hair fell 
straight onto her shoulders and then was cut so that it was shorter at 
the back than the front. Her chosen style of dress emphasised her legs 
which were long to begin with. The stretch from her toes to the top of 
her thighs was breathtakingly long, and her pubic hairs were tidily 
trimmed to further exaggerate the length.

It wasn't often that Emma was called to Amelia's office. She had just 
been supervising a production she had conceived: a guest show where 
ordinary members of the public would have the chance to fuck a 
celebrity. She had to concede that this was probably not one of her 
best ideas because ordinary members of the public might have 
enthusiasm but not technique, whereas the celebrities performed more 
for the camera than for their apparent partners. This meant rather more 
footage and clever editing than was normally budgeted for on such 
programs. She had been sitting with Maisie who had alternated 
between pulling Emma's clitoris and putting a finger up her anus, and 
complaining about why Emma was spending so much more time with 
her mother. Emma was getting a bit upset about this herself, as her 
love affair with Maisie was getting unnecessarily complex. Would she 
have to drop Maisie? And could she survive the wrench?

"Amelia would like a word with you," suddenly announced Amelia's 
Personal Assistant, Betty, who as always appeared out of nowhere. 
Betty was a slender girl with glasses and hair tied in a bun. She always 
wore a very smart suit, with stockings and stilettos, but only a bra 
underneath her jacket. She was smart and officious, and had a habit of 
somehow vanishing into the shadows wherever she was, so you were 
never sure she was still there or not. Betty took no apparent notice of 
Maisie's blatant behaviour, and Emma wasn't at all sure if her attitude 
belied disapproval or acceptance.

"Why do you want to see me?" asked Emma when she was sat in front 
of Amelia in the comfortable arm-chair provided for visitors. She felt 
very nervous as Amelia leaned forward stroking her chin with a hand 
and allowed her breasts to just touch the shiny oak veneer of her desk.

Amelia smiled warmly. Behind her were pictures of actors and 
actresses - including a young Amelia - engaged in various sexual 
postures and on her desk was a very expensive laptop computer. "To 
see you." She answered enigmatically. She allowed Emma to get a 
little more uncomfortable and then explained. "We've been working 
together a long time, Emma. Years in fact. And you've shown yourself 
to be very competent as a researcher and now as an Executive 
Producer. But I don't think I really know you. I know you're a naturist. 
But then, who doesn't? And I've heard that, unlike most of the staff 
here, you've stayed commendably aloof from any of the sexual games 
that go on. But that may just be a wise strategy in a business where 
sexual favours can count more than competence in the short run but 
count against you later. You have nevertheless advanced to quite a 
senior position with Harlot TV in a very short time." Amelia paused 
and smiled again. "I thought I'd like to invite you out for a meal, so 
that I can get to know you better."

Emma was taken aback. "Well, that's very kind of you ..."

"Is tomorrow night at the Iguana okay?"

"I think so," replied Emma, aware that she was now committed and 
that the one night of the week she usually reserved for visiting her 
home and seeing Charlotte was now taken up.

The Iguana was a restaurant that Emma had never been to before, but 
it had always looked very exclusive. She had no idea what to wear, so 
she had to phone in advance to see if naturism was acceptable. She 
was surprised to find that Amelia had already taken that into account, 
and had booked the two of them in to one of the Private Dining 
Rooms. "That means, madam," explained the gentleman from the 
restaurant, "that you are at license to wear, or indeed not to wear, 
whatever you like." Nevertheless, Emma was still very nervous and 
bought a coat for the night. She had no idea what to buy and bought an 
ankle-length coat which forced her to walk in a curious and 
uncomfortable mincing way, if she buttoned it to below the waist, 
which she had to do to prevent her crotch being displayed. When she 
arrived she was very nervous that the waiter would offer to take off 
her coat and reveal her nudity in a crowded room, but the waiter was, 
in fact, incredibly discreet. "I dare say you would rather leave your 
coat on until we are in the room Ms Uruqhart has reserved."

The Private Dining Room was actually rather small, with just enough 
space for the table, guests and waiters. Emma was pleased to find 
Amelia waiting for her. At first Emma believed she was dressed as 
always, and then she noticed that Amelia wasn't wearing stockings, 
suspenders or shoes. "I'm so glad you came!" smiled Amelia as Emma 
sat down. Emma soon lost her wariness as Amelia engaged her in 
conversation which somehow and subtly shifted away from work and 
general interests to Emma's more private life. By the time the main 
course was finished and a second bottle of champagne had been 
ordered, Emma had found that Amelia had already guessed at her 
relationship with Maisie. 

"Some of the other Directors thought that maybe you just weren't 
interested in sex at all - though I must say yours is a most specialist 
interest."

Amelia then found out about Emma's relationship with Charlotte, 
Harriett and others. "You really don't like men at all do you?"

"I've never really considered it much," confessed Emma who still had 
no opinion on her sexual identity. "They're just friends of mine. 
Maisie's my only real love."

"And her mother?"

Emma confessed to her worries about that, and the way she was 
feeling that Maisie's mother was blackmailing her into more sex with 
her than she really wanted. But she emphasised it was Maisie she 
loved. Maisie was the only person she'd ever loved. 

"I'd love to get to know Maisie a lot better," commented Amelia, but 
didn't elaborate.

The conversation progressed from talk about relationships to Amelia's 
own life history which sounded pretty exciting to Emma. It appeared 
to involve a great deal of traveling, being interviewed, being 
photographed and spending a lot of money. The way Amelia described 
it, it was easy to forget that any of the films she'd been in had ever 
involved fucking at all. In fact, as Emma had heard somewhere else, 
one of the secrets of Amelia's success was her ability to take complete 
penises into her mouth and down her throat.

This wasn't a skill that Emma witnessed after the meal, but she 
witnessed many others, when Amelia steered a quite tipsy Emma into 
a taxi and then into the bedroom of her substantial town house. The 
door was answered by a quite short and slender black woman in an 
apron and nothing else who prepared the two women a cup of coffee 
which was brought to them in Amelia's bed. Emma had experienced 
enough love from women to appreciate Amelia's sexual skills, but she 
could see that Amelia was a little surprised by Emma's sexual appetite 
and by its tendency towards roughness. 

"That Maisie must be battered black and blue!" she commented.

Emma smiled and squeezed her teeth more firmly on Amelia's firm 
toe-sized nipple. Rough? Not to Maisie, she wouldn't be. She would 
only treat the girl with the tenderness and care she deserved. True love 
is never rough.

The following morning Emma was awoken by Amelia's servant with a 
breakfast tray which contained a selection of breakfast foods.

She looked around her, but could see no sign of Amelia. She looked at 
the servant questioningly. The servant wore the same clothes, or lack 
of, as the night before but appeared no more aware of this than Emma 
who was generally only belatedly aware of what other people wore, if 
anything at all. "Madam's already left for the studio," the servant said 
with a reassuring smile. "She said that if you wish to see her, the door 
to her office is always open."

Emma thanked the servant, who left with her black bottom showing as 
she turned out of the bedroom and shut the doors behind her. Emma 
relished her breakfast and stayed under the silk sheets for far longer 
than she'd intended, relishing its sheer luxury and enjoying the 
thoughts of her passionate night. She restrained herself from 
masturbating to the memory - she didn't want to further add more 
stains to the already love-stained sheets. Eventually, she emerged and 
with the assistance of the servant, who magically appeared just when 
she was needed, she found her overcoat and made her way across town 
to the Harlot TV studio where she had to supervise a children's pissing 
programme. 

This was an idea of Emma's which exploited the fascination that 
children had for pissing and other excretory functions. It was much the 
same as any children's programme except for the prevalence of 
excretion jokes and demonstrations of guests' skills at pissing and, to 
a much lesser extent, shitting. Emma didn't actually enjoy the show at 
all, - the smell was dreadful and she didn't envy the cleaning staff at 
all - but it had become one of Harlot TV's most popular programmes 
and had spawned a tamer equivalent on mainstream television.

After the show, she decided to take Amelia's offer and find out just 
how open the door to her office actually was. She walked down the 
corridor with rather more trepidation than usual, feeling the eyes that 
always trailed her naked body were somehow able to detect her 
present destination and intention. She knocked on the door of the 
room just outside Amelia's office where Betty, her personal assistant, 
would sit and where there were seats for waiting visitors. Betty was 
indeed sitting at her desk in her smart, immaculately pressed suit with 
a computer screen in front of her, occasionally pressing a key and 
moving a mouse around. Betty smiled as soon as Emma appeared, 
and, without waiting for Emma to say what she wanted. she said, "I'll 
see if Ms Uruqhart is able to see you. Please take a seat."

She stood up and walked precisely on her stilettos to Amelia's office, 
while Emma sat down on one of the lush leather chairs. It felt 
deliciously cool against her naked buttocks. Betty left the door 
sufficiently ajar for Emma to see Amelia's stockinged legs high up in 
the air whilst a man was thrusting in and out of her.

Emma felt a curious twinge of disconcertment. Amelia definitely 
wouldn't want to see her now, she thought with disappointment- but at 
a deeper level she felt hurt that Amelia would need sex so soon after 
their night of passion and with a man as well. She saw Betty lean over 
close to Amelia and pass a few words, not seemingly at all abashed by 
Amelia's intimacy. She then strode out to the reception area leaving 
the door still ajar.

"Ms Uruqhart says that she's temporarily tied up entertaining a 
customer, but that she would be more than delighted if you would 
accept myself as a substitute for the meantime."

Emma wasn't at all sure she'd heard Betty quite right. "What do you 
mean?" she asked hoarsely.

"Ms Uruqhart is not a lady who likes to disappoint those whom she 
considers to be her lovers, - and you are one of the very select whom 
she now considers in that capacity. Consequently, she would much 
rather that I were to make love to you than you were to leave 
unsatisfied."

"That's very considerate of her..."

"You need not worry about indiscretion. Ms Uruqhart has a room set 
aside for exactly this purpose. So if you could just follow me, if you 
please?"

Emma was actively considering finding her way out of this 
embarrassing situation, but somehow Betty's very matter-of-fact 
approach and the feeling that she'd somehow be disappointing Amelia 
if she didn't, encouraged her to follow Betty into Amelia's office. 
Amelia was on the desk, her legs in the air and her stilettos still on, 
while a very hairy pair of buttocks were rhythmically pushing in and 
out of her. As Emma walked by Amelia turned her face towards her, 
with sweat pulsing down her face, and smiled welcomingly. "I'm so ... 
glad that ... you ... decided to ... decided to ... come..." she gasped 
between thrusts. "To come! To come!" She became thoroughly 
distracted as the quite stout man on top of her leaned back with his 
mouth open pushing deeper and deeper into her. "Bet ... ty won't ... 
disapp ...point you! ... Ohhh! God! ... God!"

Emma was no stranger to watching men making love to women. 
Normally she saw at least one such event each day, and usually in the 
flesh. She still felt a little uncomfortable about it, partly because it was 
something she'd not done herself, but it was a discomfort coloured by 
her complete indifference to the people involved. This time it was 
different - perhaps because she still felt warm from her very recent sex 
with Amelia. Betty, however, was not a bad substitute for Amelia as 
Emma soon found, and the presence of Amelia's lovemaking in the 
room next to them actually seemed to stimulate their passion. Betty 
had taken her to a small room at the corner, the door of which Emma 
had seen before but had assumed to lead to an adjoining office. In fact, 
the room consisted of only a large mattress which filled all the floor-
space and a window which let in light from outside. 

Betty divested her clothes before entering the room. All she wore 
underneath her smart suit were knickers and a bra, which she folded 
up neatly on a chair. She demurely pulled off her stockings, taking 
especial care not to snag them on her toe-nails. Then the two of them 
fell onto the mattress in the room and started making love in a very 
gentle way. Emma found Betty demure and perhaps reticent in a way 
she'd come to associate with Maisie, but at the same time she felt a 
little bored that Betty skirted around her genitals and spent so much 
more time licking and embracing her breasts. "Do you make love to 
women very often?" Emma wondered.

"Not very often," admitted Betty sitting up so that her trim figure was 
silhouetted against the window through which Emma assessed that 
anyone with a pair of binoculars in the building opposite would have a 
very clear view of what the two girls were doing. 

"How often is that?" 

"Only when Ms Uruqhart requests," she said with a slightly troubled 
frown. "Aren't I pleasing you?" 

Emma smiled as broadly as she could at Betty's admission of 
inexpertise. "Of course you are," she said, and then took complete 
control of the lovemaking. It was clear that Betty's experience of 
lovemaking with women had generally been with fairly inexperienced 
ones, perhaps only those which Amelia had seduced. Betty was soon 
to realise that sex with a woman could be just as rough and physical as 
it could be with a man, and was clearly surprised by the strength of the 
orgasms that Emma orchestrated and the pain throbbing from her 
vagina and anus afterwards.

"It's never been like this before," she confessed, when the two re-
emerged into Amelia's main office to find the room empty.

Betty walked to a basin in the corner of the office and sponged her 
lower regions clean and patted them dry with a towel. "Ms Uruqhart is 
no doubt keeping her dinner appointment with the representative from 
Turkish Television," she commented.

Emma smiled and then kissed Betty full on the lips. "I wouldn't have 
liked to have delayed her appointment." Betty then carefully reattired 
herself and led Emma back to the reception area where she reasserted 
herself in her seat. 

"Ms Uruqhart will be very pleased if you would visit her at any time 
that suits you, and will endeavour to avail herself on your next visit," 
she said in an officious manner. Then she smiled slightly wickedly. 
"And if she is not able to do so, she will endeavour to assist by any 
other means." 



--
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
          (mirror: http://www.bradley-stoke.barrysworld.net)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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