Cucumber is a Fruit, Isn’t It?
Chapter 3
As Aoife rose from her desk, she began reflecting on that morning she met Him. She’d got in early, as she said she was going to, beating Joanne, as it was, by six minutes. She waited for nearly an hour before she got the call, from Hazeema, to meet Him in the conference room. As she walked there, she wondered whether Joanne had been summoned first, which disappointed her, if in fact that was the case. She waited outside the room after knocking. The few seconds she waited filled her with a combination of excitement and apprehension. What was He going to be like? What was she going to be expected to do? How was the management structure going to be now? All this played in her mind as she waited. Then the door opened. It was Hazeema. “Come in, Aoife,” she said, and Aoife stepped in. She immediately saw a tall man by the window, looking out. He was wearing a black shalwar kameez above white tros. Aoife only learned later that this was what it was, the national dress of Pakistan. She took a few steps towards him, unaware now of where Hazeema actually was behind her. Then He turned. It was the eyes that first drew her. Bright green, or that was what they looked like. And she felt them burning into her mind. He was talking to her. With his eyes. She knew almost immediately what her purpose was now. To serve. To serve him in any way he commanded. He pointed to her, then lowered his hand to point at her feet. She knew what she had to do, and went down on her knees, before then assuming a prostrating position of worship. She sat back up, remaining on her knees. She couldn’t avert her gaze from his eyes. He started speaking to her, but his lips weren’t moving. She learned what her role was to be now. Serving Hazeema was part of her purpose now, and she would use all her experience to assist her in securing clients in government positions as well as sporting and entertaining. She would make herself available too, to service the needs of clients, and engage in rituals of release as and when called upon. Aoife felt more elated than she could ever recall once it became clear what her purpose was to be. What was it she could do for Him now, she wondered. She wanted to show Him how much she wanted to serve, but instead heard only Hazeema’s voice. “That is all, Aoife. Return to your office and I’ll speak with you later.” Aoife rose, still gazing at His eyes. He turned, as did Aoife then, to leave. As she walked out of the door, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she couldn’t show him then how much she wanted to serve. When Hazeema later told her that she was from then on to take Janice Rice’s desk outside of her own CEO office, whilst Hazeema herself was to occupy that instead, Aoife couldn’t help but feel special. To be able to be that close to serve Hazeema when required she felt was the best possible outcome from the changes in the business taking place. It was that desk that Aoife had risen from and started walking to the conference room now when she reflected on that first sight of Him. As she continued her walk to it, she reflected too on having been released from the burden of wearing clothes whilst on the business premises. Undressing every morning after arriving became such a relief. And it was even more convenient whenever presence at a ritual of release was required, which was where she was going then.
When Aoife entered the conference room, she saw that Joanne Pearce and Janice Rice were already there, on their knees facing an empty chair, and as naked as she was. Aoife ed them on the floor. Moments later, the door opened behind them, and voices were heard. Male voices speaking in a language Aoife didn’t recognise. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw movement as three men moved into sight, including Him! This was the third ritual of release Aoife had attended in the month since first seeing Him, and this was the first He had been present at. He sat down on the chair, and the two men stood close by. “Are you ready to serve,” He said, and this time his lips moved as his voice was heard. “Yes, master,” all three women on their knees before him said in unison. “Prepare yourselves,” He then said, and all three then rose to turn towards the conference desk. Once there, they leant down over it, spreading their legs and each pulling on their arse cheeks to expose the hole between them, all lubricated in anticipation of a ritual they’d come to learn was required of them. As a cock was now being pushed into each of their arseholes, all three women were praying that it was them who was taking the Master’s. A minute or so later, and each felt what had been in their arseholes pull completely out. Then filled again they were. Maybe this time it was the Master’s cock each wondered, and hoped. And when this change happened again, they were certain that they must have experienced His in them at some point they’d been lying chest down on the desk now, pulling at those cheeks to make entry there as smooth as possible. On each of the first two such rituals Aoife had taken part in, the cocks had come in her arse, but on this occasion it was different. As what she presumed had been the third different cock to leave her arsehole was pulling out, Aoife instinctively stood up, turned and went down on her knees. Somehow, she knew that this was required of her, and as she took into her mouth the cock just a couple of inches from her face then, she looked up, and it was Him! She had His cock in her mouth, and she’d so wanted that since that moment he’d spoken to her with his eyes. She continued to look up at him as she then took hold of the base of the shaft and moved her mouth backwards and forwards, up and down on it, working her tongue as she did. And it was big. Far too big for her to get to the bottom of it with her lips before it was right at the back of her throat. She sucked and licked the shaft, teased the balls with her tongue momentarily before jerking faster now. She so wanted to taste his cum, to feel it in her mouth, and to swallow it. Then the first spurt hit the back of her throat. It went straight down because she only had the briefest of notice it was coming. Now she could hold the second, third and fourth spurts in her mouth as it worked down and back along the shaft. She pulled off with her mouth full of his cum. She savoured it as she looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling, so she wondered if she had pleased him, but was sure she must have done. Then she swallowed, before taking the shaft back into her mouth to pleasure it again as she gently sucked. There were voices now in that foreign tongue. The other two men had looked like they were, as the Master, maybe from Pakistan. Previously, the guests serviced had been white English speakers, but not this time. As the cock pulled out, Aoife tried to follow it briefly, just to savour it for as long as she could, but then it was gone. All three men returned their cocks to their tros and walked straight out of the room, conversing in that foreign language as they did. Aoife looked at the other two women, each staring a little disdainfully at her, and for that she guessed it was because it had been her who had tasted the Master’s cum and not them. Nothing was said between them as they each rose and made for the door.
Back her desk, Aoife felt just a little frustration at not achieving complete satisfaction herself during the Ritual, and felt the urge just to rub down there a little, but she knew she couldn’t until she’d been told she could. She was back there for just a few minutes when Hazeema called her in. “Father was very pleased, Aoife. He says he may have a different purpose for you,” she said whilst seated, which raised the hope Aoife had held regarding serving Him more closely. “Thank you, Hazeema. I so wish to please.” “I know you do,” Hazeema said as she stood up. As she walked round to the front of the desk she said “Please me now.” Turning around towards the desk and bending slightly forwards, Hazeema lifted up her dress. Aoife stepped forward and went down on her knees. Pulling the cheeks apart she started to lick up the crack. At the hole, she prodded with her tongue before moving up. She continued to lick for some minutes, taking care to focus on the hole each time her tongue reached it. This wasn’t the first time Aoife had served Hazeema this way and was confident she was pleasing her as she had before. “Enough,” Hazeema said, and Aoife pulled away. As Hazeema pulled her dress back down, she said “We have the government minister for media arriving at three this afternoon. Be dressed and ready to accompany me to meet him in the conference room.” “Yes, Hazeema,” Aiofe responded as she stood upright and Hazeema walked back around to the desk chair. “Be subtle about it, Aoife, but you must let this government minister know that he can fuck you, if he wanted to. Understood?” “Yes, of course, Hazeema. I’ll make sure he knows that he can have me.” Aoife turned, and as she reached the door, her feelings of arousal were still there, even stronger now she had tasted Hazeema’s arse. She turned towards Hazeema and said “May I. May I relieve myself, please Hazeema?” “Yes, you may,” was the answer. Once at her desk, Aoife opened the bottom drawer, looking wantonly at the cucumber there as she spread her legs slightly. Reaching for it with her right hand, the middle and index fingers of her left were already inside the moist hole between her legs. Of course, it wasn’t the same substitute cock she’d seen Janice Rice fuck herself with. No, she secured a fresh one only this week for using precisely as she was now. As she pushed it in, then drew it partially out before building up to the rhythm she knew would make her come, she focussed on Him. She’d learned how His cock felt in her arse now, and what His cum tasted like. Right then she was imagining it there, between her legs, fucking her hard. She couldn’t not come quickly, and as she did, her body convulsed, she screamed as her beating heart felt it would seize. As she pulled it out and returned it to the drawer, she thought to herself; fruit. It’s fruit and not a vegetable, isn’t it, she knew, and wondered too what she’d prepare for the evening meal with Michael. Fish pie she decided. She didn’t know why that thought had come into her head just then, but it felt the right one. Yes, fish pie for dinner that evening it was to be.