Executive Orders (closed for Momadness)

"What in the blue blazes are they doing?"

Samantha heard the outraged exclamation but she had eyes only for Everett as he stepped away from her, going back into the hotel room and sliding the balcony door closed between them. Leaving her naked. Bound. Exposed.

"You stay out here... until you convince me you will never doubt my resolve for you. Till you convince me you will never doubt me again."

Panic filled her belly, fluttering almost as wildly as the vibe inside her. Could reporters see her? Were photographers snapping pictures of her at this very moment? Pictures of her naked, with her legs lewdly spread, her hands bound behind her back, weights hanging from her pierced nipples, a ring gleaming between the lips of her shaved pussy?

"Kneel."

She lowered herself awkwardly to her knees and in that instant, felt the vibe's intensity increase. She bit back a low moan, hoping her elderly audience couldn't hear as well as they obviously could see.

"You cum before you convince me... and you spend the night out here."

She trembled. Horrified embarrassment, shame at being so displayed for anyone to see washed over her. She could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. Could they see the marks on her body? The flood of her own juices drooling down her thighs? Did they recognise her? Or did the darkness offer her some anonymity?

She whimpered, feeling the orgasm beginning to swell, threatening to consign her to spending her wedding night alone on the balcony.

And yet all her emotions… the fear, the shame, the humiliation… somehow it all twisted and tangled and twined with the all-encompasing love she had for her husband. It all conspired against her, each intensifying the whole.

Tears flooded her cheeks as she cried out, unable to squeeze her knees together in an attempt to hold off her impending climax.

"Did you see what he did to her? I am calling the police! That is not right!"

The angry words drifted across to her and utter panic gripped Samantha for a single heart-stopping moment.

She threw her head back, glaring icy daggers directly at the older couple. "Mind your own business, bitch," she gritted, struggling to hold back her screaming release. "I am on my honeymoon, and whatever games my husband and I play are nobody else's fucking business. Literally." Samantha gasped, twisting her hips, panting for breath. She pinned another glare on the shocked woman. "If you don't like it, don't fucking watch!"

She shuffled closer to the glass, pressing her face against the sliding door. "Master, please…"

She shuddered, the vibe seeming to intensify, everything conspiring against her.

"And when you hear screaming over here..." she gasped toward the other balcony, panting, "it's called an orgasm… in case you've never had one."

She collapsed against the sliding glass door, whimpering. "Master, please… I can't hold… please… no more doubts. I swear." She could feel the tingles travelling her spine, the trembling beginning deep in her thighs. "please… don't suffer alone on your wedding night… please… so sorry, Master… I can't… I can't… please…"

"Then get up, turn around and swear it to the world... and I will let you back in."

Samantha shuffled on her knees, leaning against the window as she struggled to stand up again with her hands still cuffed behind her back.

"I swear to release my pain and doubts!" She heard the muttered gasps from the couple watching but ignored them, raising her voice as she shouted to the winds. "I swear I will let go of the shame and denial I've felt about who I am inside… about what I want, and what I need!"

Tears flooded her cheeks and she felt the hard knot of pain squeezing around her heart shatter and fall away.

"I swear I will accept my Master's decisions and enjoy every dark, twisted, humiliation he lovingly heaps on me and love him all the more for it!"

She turned to smile at the woman glaring at her with her mouth hanging open in shock.

"I am Sammy. I am his adoring wife and willing slave. He is my loving husband, and he is my ideal Master." She spun to meet Everett's eyes through the balcony doors. "He knows me better than I know myself and I trust him with all that I am. Always."

She held her breath a moment… two… three…

Finally, the balcony door slowly slid open and her Master's hand extended, finger catching at her collar and dragging her back inside, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Every fucking part of you is mine."

Samantha felt the warmth of his breath against her ear as the words seeped in and then gasped, heat jolting through her hungry pussy as she felt his teeth close on her shoulder. She whimpered her agreement, her head falling back as her clit throbbed against his hand.

"You have one more penance to pay for doubting me..."

Her eyes flew open as she shuddered, fresh hunger sweeping over her.

"Do you remember what hole gets fucked if you're a bad girl?"

Samantha swallowed, a spiralling mix of nervous excitement and growing trepidation somehow ratcheting her desire higher and higher. Oh yes, she remembered. Good girls get the pussy, bad girls get the ass.

"Bend over that fucking desk and beg as if your life depends on it!"

"Yes, Master," she whispered. She leaned forward, the weights dragging on her nipple rings softly thunking on the desk an instant before she settled in place, her wrists still cuffed behind her back, her ankles still spread wide by the spreader.

She arched her back, lifting the smooth perfect globes of her ass in offering.

"Your slave has been a very bad girl, disappointing her husband and Master with her lack of faith. Please, Master… please punish your slave!! Make sure your slave never forgets this lesson again! Make your slave scream and beg."

Samantha felt her throat tightening, a knot of tears squeezing her voice down to a bare whisper. "Please! I need to be punished so I can be forgiven!! I need you to claim me, use me, fuck me. Drive your cock into your slave's ass and burn your ownership into your wife's heart and mind!! Master, please!!"

Samantha shifted slightly in the bed, yawning, stretching with a soft hiss as her body reminded her of the rough fucking she'd had the night before. She smiled softly, the stickiness between her thighs reminding her too of the almost endless pleasure that followed it.

She rolled over, just watching Everett… watching her husband… sleep. She could see the worry, the exhaustion in his face, even in sleep.

She slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb him and, checking that he was still deeply asleep, she tiptoed out of the bedroom, grabbed her phone and slipped into the ensuite bathroom.

Sending up a small thanks for cell phones and speed dial, she waited for the ring to be answered. When the sleepy voice picked up, she spoke quietly. "Hi, it's Sam." She paused. "Yes, I know what time it is. Do you know how much I pay you for a retainer?" She chuckled softly at the grumbled answer.

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time. My husband is in the middle of a custody dispute." She pulled the phone away from her ear a moment at the loud squawk, then continued. "Yes, my husband. His ex was killed, motor vehicle accident. Her mother is fighting him for custody. She's gotten a restraining order. It's full of completely ridiculous and false allegations. You're my family attorney. I want you to quash it."

She listened for a moment.

"I don't care what it takes. She has lies on her side. We have celebrity and money. Use it."

She shifted, pacing the small space. "No, we won't have any support from FOX. That's why I pay you and never used the network attorneys. I think it's time I moved on from that place anyway."

"Just… just take care of it. And if you can fix it so I don't have to testify… even better. I'll send you the details of my subpoena. Call me when you have news."

She ended the call with a sigh, easing back into the bedroom. Tossing the phone on the bedside table, she watched her husband shift and sigh, reaching across the bed. Smiling with a predatory smile of her own, Samantha untucked the covers at the foot of the bed and slipped under them, slowly inching up Everett's legs, pressing whisper-soft kisses along the way until she reached her target and lapped once, twice… long, slow caressing licks before drawing his half-hard cock into her mouth with a blissful sigh.

"I'm not so sure of that," Samantha sighed. "There's a morals clause in my contract. With everything…" she looked away, shrugging softly. "I'm sure they've got more than enough to fire me, too."

Before Everett could say anything more, she turned back to him with a wide smile. "But…" she slid a hand down Everett's chest, teasing under the sheet covering them, "I've been thinking…"

Everett drew in a breath at her questing fingers. "Th-thinking?"

She giggled at his struggle to focus, then sobered, bringing her hand back up to his chest as she leaned in to press a soft kiss before pulling back to look into his eyes. "I think it's time for me to leave FOX."

"Leave FOX? Sammy, you don't have to…"

She pressed a finger lightly against his lips, stopping his protest. "I am tired of the schedule. I am tired of the bullshit." She stroked his cheek. "We are going to be a family. You, me, Bailey… and…" she pressed his hand against her still flat belly.

The look in Everett's eyes told her that she'd reminded him of a little something that had slipped his mind in all the drama of the last couple days. She smiled again. "I'm thinking I want to set my own schedule. Maybe…" she arched an eyebrow, "maybe work together with a certain up and coming young TV star to develop our own production company."

Everett grinned. "Anyone I know?"

Samantha grinned with a shrug. "Well, I haven't approached him about it yet, but I hear through the grapevine he might be changing positions soon."

"Changing positions, huh?" Everett grinned, rolling them over so that Samantha sat astride his hips. "How's this for a new position? Hands behind your head, slave. Ride me."

Quick to obey, Samantha clasped her fingers at the back of her head, the action lifting her tits, pushing them forward.

Everett reached up, taking hold of the chain linking her pierced nipples and tugged up.

With a soft whimper, Samantha knelt up, easing the pull on her nipples, raising herself off his hips.

Immediately, his pull changed, dragging downward, and Samantha followed, bouncing down, sliding onto his thick erection. The moment she began to grind her hips, seeking her own stimulation, the pull would change again, dragging her up once more. Up and down, up and down, fucking herself on her Master's cock, her clit throbbed, aching and unattended, until she was panting, whimpering, begging, "Master, please!"

"I ... I really don't want you to leave Fox baby. I feel like this is all because of me and I don't want you to end your career because of me. This all started because of me and I don't want you paying for it."

Samantha pressed her lips against Everett's shoulder, her throat squeezing tight as emotion welled up. She wasn't surprised that he blamed himself for the situation they were in, but she had no intention of letting that stand. She knew that she bore equal responsibility, of not more than he did. After all, it was her own risky, unchecked behaviour that initiated this whole chain of events.

"Listen. I love you baby... I want what is best for us. Our family can live in New York as well as anywhere. What do you think?"

She draped over him, pressing another soft kiss before resting her chin on his chest and smiling up into his questioning eyes.

"I think, as long as I'm with you, we can live anywhere."

His hand cradled her cheek and she nuzzled into it for a moment, her eyes closed. Straightening again, she held his eyes. "As for the rest… I would point out that leaving FOX does not have to mean ending my career, just entering a different phase in it. I think I might be ready for that."

She slid his hand over her barely growing belly in reminder, "especially considering the other changes in my life that are coming."

The smile that lit his eyes as he pressed his hand close drew a matching smile to her own lips.

"I want what's best for us… best for our family… too. I just not sure that's me working for FOX." Before he could reply, she pressed a finger against his lips. "We don't have to make this decision tonight. Whatever Bill has to tell us may make the decision for us. Right now we need to call our attorneys, and Linda, and let them know what's going on. She can make sure Bailey knows where you are."

She watched the pain slip over his features and it broke her own heart, but she was counting on her attorney's having good news for them soon. "You want to make those calls while I book us a flight and start packing?" He only shrugged, his eyes shimmering. "Everett?"

Sighing softly, he cupped her cheek again, kissing her with an intensity she hoped she never got used to, "yeah, let's get going."

"Sam," Bill stood in the wide open doorway, motioning her in.

Samantha barely spared him a glance before ignoring his call to turn and catch Everett's elbow. The expression on his face was clear to read. She didn't bother to ask if he was all right.

Instead, she pressed the key to her penthouse into his slack hand, closing his fingers around it. "When you're finished clearing out your office here, go get everything you think you'll need from your place." She leaned close, cupping his cheek with her palm, "Including the cat. And bring it home."

He opened his mouth to protest but she cut off his words. "Our home." She said firmly. "At least until we decide to leave New York or buy something else."

He was already shaking his head, but she only stepped closer, invading his space. She curled one hand around the locket, drawing his eyes to her collar. She slid the other hand down his arm to catch his, pressing his knuckles against her still mostly flat belly.

Leaning even closer, she whispered directly into his ear. "You go, I go."

She stepped back, barely half a step, still holding tight to his hand. Raising her voice back to a normal level, she added. "I'll text you when I'm done here. You can let me know if you're still at your old place or if you're home and I'll come meet you. We can get a flight back for the hearing together."

Before he could say a word, she released his hand to wrap her arms around his neck, sliding her body against his in a clear statement to the dozens of pairs of eyes watching. Locking her lips with his, she kissed him voraciously, adoringly. More than one person wondered if the air conditioning had suddenly failed by the time she released him to whisper, "I love you, too."

A throat cleared from behind them and Samantha turned to see Bill with his arms folded over his chest, his eyebrow raised. "Some time today, if you don't mind, Sam?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Bill," the Ice Queen was back in full force as Samantha released Everett and turned to stride into Bill's office, "I didn't realise you were on such a time crunch this afternoon. More innocent people to blackball? Other careers to ruin?"

Bill didn't respond, merely pointing her to a seat as he stepped back around the desk to his own chair.

"There's no need to make this so adversarial, Ms. Noelle," Orson Krenmic spoke up.

She pinned him with her sharp gaze, her tone frigid with scorn as she corrected him. "You can call me Mrs. Johnson… Mrs. Everett Johnson."

She ignored the shocked looks and turned back to Bill. "Let's make this simple, shall we? I'm exercising the escape clause in my contract. The network will pay me out for the remainder of the contract, and I will refrain from going public with every incident of workplace harassment I have endured or witnessed in this place."

"Now, Sam…"

Samantha interrupted, "We all know that in the current atmosphere, I could take down more than a few of your top anchors and executives, but I'm happy to keep things cordial. Give me what I want and I will even sign the same NDA I'm sure you had my husband sign."

Ignoring the fact that all three were still clearly reeling from her little bombshell, Samantha pressed on, "So what's it going to be, Bill?"

Samantha nudged Bill with her shoulder, hoping to lighten the mood. "Everett always ran my life. That's what a good personal assistant does."

Bill barely smiled, unwilling to be placated by the teasing.

She picked up his hand, holding it between hers and looking unflinchingly into his worried eyes. "I swear to you. He is a good man. I love him, and he loves me. He completes me."

The snort of laughter escaped Bill before he could hold it back.

"I know, I know!" Samantha chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Reduced to quoting Jerry Maguire. It's a sad sad day. But it's true."

The smile faded a little as she grew serious again. "Bill," she began, "you and Helen are the closest thing I've had to parents for most of my life. The only thing I truly missed at my wedding was the chance to ask you to walk me down the aisle." Tears filled her own eyes for a moment. "Before I met Everett, I never could have admitted that to myself, let alone to you."

Bill squeezed her fingers, his own eyes bright, but she wasn't finished.

"I was living a cold, lonely existence. Telling myself I was meant to be alone, deserved to be alone. Unloving and unloved. Because it was safer that way. No pain, no risk. To me or to anyone I loved, since they were all taken from me eventually."

Her heart thumped a little at the thought and she unconsciously pressed her hand to her belly.

"Everett may have dragged me kicking and screaming every step of the way, but he dragged me back into the light, back to love and a family." She smiled at him, squeezing his fingers. "You and Helen will always be a part of that family."

Samantha could see that the worry was easing a little, but it was still there in his eyes.

"Yes," she murmured, "our relationship is… unconventional… he's younger than I am, he already has a daughter, I used to be his boss. And the things we do together may be… a little outside the norm." She blushed faintly, more from Bill's slightly wide-eyed, blushing shock than her own embarrassment. "I swear to you though, Everett has NEVER done anything to me, or with me, that I didn't want."

"I do defer to him personally, because he's my husband and I love him, and it makes us both happy." She smiled softly, adoration lighting her eyes.

"But understand, professionally, I make my own decisions. He has no idea what I've said here today. We didn't discuss it. And nothing that he, or anyone else says, will change my mind." She crossed her arms over her chest, firm.

"The network could have chosen to back him up. We could have held a press conference and explained what happened. Audiences love a redemption story even more than a fall from grace. They opted not to try and that's their decision." She shrugged. "Everything has a price. I will not stay where an innocent man in a time of great personal crisis is cast aside rather than supported. That is my decision. And it is final."

Bill sighed, nodding. "I expected as much." He flung an arm around her shoulder, squeezing. "You'll be alright? What are you going to do now?"

"We're going to be fine. We have to go back and finish this custody fight first. Then once we have Bailey taken care of, I have a few ideas." She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "What's your contract like, Bill? Maybe… keep your options open." She grinned. "How sometime next week we get together for dinner? You and Helen can get to know Everett a little better and we can talk about the future."

Bill laughed. "Helen likes Everett. She's been trying to convince me all along that you were more interested in him than in John Cena."

Samantha laughed. "Helen is a wise woman." She stood, straightening her skirt and wiping her cheeks. "Let the vultures back in. Let's get this done. I have a husband to meet."

"All right." Bill straightened, then turned back a moment. "You'll call us?"

He sounded tentative, hopeful and scared all at once and it squeezed at Samantha's heart.

"I will. I promise."

His smile beamed and he leaned close, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "Good. That's good," he murmured softly, before stepping away and opening the door to usher the others back into the office.

Samantha cocked her head slightly, eyeing Everett for a moment before she straightened and smiled. "I'm fine. Where are we going?"

"We?" Everett's scowled. "They fired you?"

She could hear the incredulous note in his voice even as she shook her head. "They didn't fire me." She glanced at Dale, missing the flash of relief on Everett's face, already gone before she turned back. "I quit."

"What? You can't! I won't let you…"

Dale winced, sure that the blast of ice was about to hit the fan as Everett dared to speak that way to Samantha Noelle, but watched in stupefied shock as she only smiled at him. "I'm afraid that you have no say in this. I told them you go, I go."

Samantha curled a hand around his cheek. "I will not throw you to the wolves to save my sullied reputation, and I will not work anywhere that chooses to attack one of their own."

"Sammy…" the note of warning was obvious, but she shook her head.

"Not your decision," her eyes locked onto his. "Don't worry. We'll be fine."

"We're both unemployed."

Samantha could hear the concern in his voice, but she wasn't sure where exactly it was coming from. Was it concern over their lack of income? Was it the custody case? Or was it something else entirely?

She nodded, slipping her arms around his waist and pressing close. "I would say rather that we are now self-employed."

"What?"

She glanced around the office a moment, then pressed her lips to Everett's ear. "Let's get out of here, we need to talk."

"Master," Samantha pressed a soft kiss against his cheek and pulled back slightly. "Everett," she continued, "it's too late for that, and I will do no such thing in any case." She stepped out of his hold, walking a few steps away, then back.

"There are a few things you need to understand here," she folded her arms across her chest. "Most importantly, Samantha Noelle makes her own career decisions. I answer to NO ONE professionally. Try it and we're in for a rough ride."

She watched the confused scowl, the doubt taking over his expression and she hurried to continue. "Outside of work, though, I will always be your wife, and your slave." She lifted his hand in hers.

"You think this job, this company is my life." She drew a deep breath, swallowing down the emotion threatening to spill over. "Master, you are so wrong about that. My life is with you."

Pressing his hand against her still flat abdomen she whispered, "my legacy is our family. That's my dream. A family of my own, with you and Bailey and everyone else that comes along."

She stepped away again, walking to the table and sitting on it, running her hand over the smooth wood. "My dream began right here that night, with you. If you hadn't pushed me into it, I might never have admitted the truth. You knew what I wanted. What I needed. Better than I did. If you had untied me and left me that day, I might never have admitted it. Might never have found my family. You made my dream come true."

She stood again, walking over to the desk, leaning back against it. The memory of him bending her over it, fucking her hard, pinked her cheeks. "Work is nothing. I can work anywhere. In fact, I'm thinking we should start our own studio. Our own network. To hell with them all! We can work for ourselves. Set our own schedules, our own rules."

She stood again, turning to bend over the desk, glancing back over her shoulder as she lifted her skirt to bare her naked bottom, jewelled plug twinkling between her cheeks, sheer silken thigh highs encasing her legs. "For example, Rule Number One, the slave will be ready to take her Master's cock anytime, anywhere he chooses." She leaned on one elbow, reaching down to stroke her fingers between her slick wet pussy lips, making no attempt to hide her hungry whimper.