Embargo (Hot Off The Press) Book 2 (3 page)

“I have to compliment you. Julie is a very talented and gifted individual and I understand why you would choose her to go undercover into my company,” Mr. Rex announces while I nervously hope and wish that Harold would just move his hands away from his pockets.

“Thank you,” Harold says as his eyes dart around the restaurant. It is obvious that the scared editor is looking for a way out. Or possibly looking to see if any hitmen are waiting for him.

“Now let’s talk about you,” Mr. Rex declares.

“Talk about me?” Harold asks nervously.

“How many issues did you project to sell with my company’s name on the cover?”

“I don’t know. It would be a record breaker.”

“Would you say a million copies?”

“Maybe. Our previous record was 650,000 copies per issue.”

“Alright, let’s say one million. Now, how much do you charge for your fine publication?”


“Um, um, four dollars and ninety-five cents,” Harold mumbles as he begins to hyperventilate.

“Let’s round up to five million dollars. Your magazine was planning on making five million dollars for an expose on Rex Industries,” Mr. Rex calculates.

Harold doesn’t answer. He begins to shake his head. The editor doesn’t look good. I lean over and say to Harold, “Listen to me carefully. Everything is going to be fine. You need to remove your hands from your pockets and place them on the table.”

The editor is not responding. I don’t like the look in his eyes. I turn to my boss and say, “Mr. Rex. He has a gun in his pocket.”

Mr. Rex turns and looks at Harold. He is completely calm. However, the CEO’s stare car terrify death himself. “Do you have a gun in your pocket, Harold?”

The editor pulls out a gun and points it right at Mr. Rex. Harold’s hand is shaking as he holds the weapon right at my boss. Mr. Rex doesn’t move an inch as the barrel of a .38 snub-nose magnum is less than a foot from his forehead. “Harold. The police are going to be here in less than five minutes. If I were you, I would calmly get up and walk out of this establishment.”

“You are the T. Rex. You are the T. Rex,” Harold mumbles as he begins to sway in his seat. Out the corner of my eye, I see the door to the kitchen swing open, a waitress walks out with several plates in her hands. She sees the gun and instantly screams. The waitress drops the plates causing a calamity of noise. Harold flinches. The gun goes off. My body is frozen. Am I shot? I feel around my body for any signs of blood or a wound. Then I look over at Mr. Rex, who hasn’t moved an inch. Between Mr. Rex and myself is a bullet hole embedded in the plastic seat back of the booth.

Harold’s eyes open wide as though he had suddenly realized the gravity of what he has done. He looks at his hand and drops the gun on the table. The editor runs out of the restaurant. Mr. Rex and I look down at the gun. My boss calmly gets up from the booth. I am shaking so bad that my body is simply frozen in place. The waitress is terrified. She has no idea what is going on. My boss reaches into his pocket and pulls out the biggest wad of cash I have ever seen in my life. He hands it to the waitress and tells her, “You didn’t see anything. Your back was turned at the time.”

The waitress looks at stack of bills - all hundreds, fifties and twenties. A roll of cash as big as Mr. Rex’s fists. She says to Mr. Rex, “I didn’t see anything. My back was turned at the time.”

My boss looks at her and gives the waitress a very kind, reassuring smile. “Have a good evening. And don’t be afraid to spread you new found wealth with the rest of the staff.”

Mr. Rex grabs me and pulls my shaking body from the booth. He drags me out of the diner. We walk to my boss’s Rolls-Royce as we hear police sirens approaching. I am so fucking scared right now. My worst run-in with the law involved a little pot smoking back in Austin. Mr. Rex puts me in to his half-a-million dollar car. We spend out of the Denny’s and head towards the highway. As the police draw near, Mr. Rex carefully pulls his car over and turns off the headlights. After the police cruisers pass, my boss calmly turns on his headlights, pulls back onto the road and speeds onto the highway.

After we make it out of the area, I begin to calm down a bit. I’m just glad that we didn’t get stopped by the police. I’m glad that no one got hurt. Right when I feel my heart rate getting back to normal, we speed back onto the highway and head towards the CEO’s estate north of Dallas. I want to say something to my boss in order to break the silence. But I am just too scared to say anything. I can tell that the T. Rex is thinking. I just hope that any of his thoughts don’t involve any anger towards me.

We make it back to the estate, which looks even more impressive by car. The front of the mansion is an imposing fortress of stone and marble. Mr. Rex is met by a security team who valet the car. My boss escorts me into the house. He spanks my ass and tells me that, “You are in big trouble.” Now, I don’t know if I should be sexually turned on or just scared. It is very hard to read the T. Rex.

My boss escorts me to an elevator next to his stairs. After my boss presses a button, I am shocked to find that we are going down. I look up at my boss, wanting to ask where we are going. However, I know better. If Mr. Rex wants me to know something, then he would tell me. The elevator doors open to a cavelike hallway. The walls are made of stone and it appears that this underground area is designed to survive World War Three. “I had this estate constructed with security and survivability in mind,” my boss explains. “We are fifty feet below the surface. The secured underground area runs four levels deep.” We walk down a hallway and stop in front of a steel door. My boss places his palm against a control panel. The doors open to a room with a simple bed, with a steel surface, and several lockers.

“Is this your underground bedroom?” I ask.

“This room can serve multiple purposes. It can be used for surgery. It can be used for interrogation.”

I look down at that bed and realize that it is not designed for sleeping. It suddenly occurs to me that there are chains and shackles on each corner of the bed. Before I can process the entire situation, I feel my body get lifted off of the ground. Mr. Rex places me on the bed. He rips off all of my clothes. My naked flesh feels the cool sensation of the metal bed on my back, my legs and my butt. I feel my wrists and ankles become shackled down onto the metal slab.

I look up at the cement ceiling. There is a single harsh light pounding down on my eyes. I feel like I’m about to be tortured or operated on. Mr. Rex leans over and looks me in the eye. I can feel him playing with my nipples. He rubs my pussy. All right, so things aren’t that bad. I begin to get comfortable. Just as my boss’s hand settles into a night groove, I feel it hand come right up to my neck.

“How did you know that editor had a gun?”

What can I say? If I tell my boss that I told Harold to bring a weapon, the T. Rex will certainly blow his top. However, I am too afraid to dare lie to my boss. “I told him to bring a gun,” I confess.

Mr. Rex is not happy. “Why would you do that?” my boss demands to know.

“I didn’t know what you were going to do,” I squeal as Mr. Rex closes the oxygen coming to my brain.

“You didn’t know what I was going to do? Did you think I was going to kill him?”

“I had no idea what you had planned?”

Mr. Rex lets go of his grip. I breathe in as much oxygen as my lungs could take. I can hear my boss opening a metal locker door behind me. I can’t look back from this restrained position so my imagination runs wild. When my boss appears in front of me, I see him holding some sort of large black metal wand. Oh fuck. What is that thing? It is at least a foot long. There is no place on my body for that thing to go.

“You are probably wondering what I am holding in my hand?” Mr. Rex says with a bit of a sly smile across his face.

“Yes, I am wondering that exact same thing,” I say softly.

“Here, I’ll show you,” Mr. Rex says as he approaches me with the wand. My heartbeat begins to accelerate. I want to scream. Mr. Rex can be sadistic but I don’t think he would try to hurt me in any permanent way. My boss waves the wand over my body. He slowly lowers it. I watch the tip of the wand, just wondering what Mr. Rex has in store for me. My boss waves the tip of the black wand, right over my hard right nipple. He taps my nipple, I feel an electric shock run through my body. “Ah!” I moan out as my back arches.

All right, now I know what that wand does. I look on, with trepidation, as my boss teases my body with this electric shock device. My body squirms on the metal table. Out of nowhere, Mr. Rex zaps me on the right side of my body. It’s getting hard for me to breathe. While the pain is intense, the exhilaration makes it well worth the suffering. And I don’t mind that Mr. Rex gets a sadistic joy out of shocking my body. Just as I am about to get my breathing back to normal, Mr. Rex shocks my stomach. Then he brings that big black wand right over my face. I look away. My boss pulls the wand down between my legs. Oh no. I feel a surge of electricity right between my legs. The pain is so intense, I slam the back of my head against the hard metal bed and nearly knock myself out. Mr. Rex tosses the wand to the side and unzips his pants.

“Your body is driving me crazy,” Mr. Rex says as he pulls out his hard cock. I watch him as he begins to jerk off right in front of me. Dammit. If my hands were not shackled down like this, I’d go right for that cock. Mr. Rex doesn’t deprive me for very long. He pushes that nice thick dick right up against my mouth. I am more than happy to take every inch he gives me. As I suck off my master, he rubs my pussy. Then he pushes several fingers inside of me. Now being shackled down is not such a bad thing at all. My boss pulls that big cock out of my mouth. He removes the rest of his clothes and walks back over to the metal locker. It is so cute watching him walk with that super-hard dick between his legs!

Mr. Rex pulls out this leather strap and a ball gag. There is no telling what Mr. Rex has planned next. My boss frees me from the table’s restraints. However, my freedom is decidedly short-lived. The ball gag goes right over my mouth. I am bent over the side of the table. I feel the hard leather whip right across my ass. I bite down on the rubber ball as Mr. Rex continues to get rough with my backside. My boss spread my legs apart. I feel him enter me from behind. He grabs my shoulders and starts to pump my pussy.

“I want to keep you locked down here as my personal playtoy,” Mr. Rex growls as he goes to town on my young body. My boss turns me around and continues to fuck me. I wrap my legs around his body and grab his strong back. I feel Mr. Rex go deep. He bites on my neck hard enough to cause a tear to roll down my cheek. It doesn’t matter how hard he wants to fuck me, I am his for the taking.

My boss picks me up and carries me over to a wall. He continues to fuck me while my back scrapes against the rough cement surface. Mr. Rex sucks on my tits as he fucks me faster and faster. I’m close to cumming. I can’t scream through this ball gag. All I can do is bite down, cry and dig my fingernails into my master’s back. Mr. Rex fucks me harder and faster. Oh fuck, I’m ready to cum. I rip my fingernails across Mr. Rex back, causing him to scream out. We climax and fall backward onto the table. My boss removes the ball gag. I gasp for air as little bits of saliva dribble down my chin. I look at my fingertips. Little drops of blood roll down my fingers. Oh no. I drew blood on the T. Rex. He is not going to be happy about that.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Sorry about what?” Mr. Rex asks.

I show him my fingers. Mr. Rex walks me out of the room and across the hall to a bathroom suite. He looks into the mirror and sees several red streaks across his back. I brace myself for a volcanic eruption of fury from this massive monster of a man. Mr. Rex examines his back for a good fifteen seconds. It’s as though he has never seen himself bleed before. I quickly wash my hands and dry them on a nearby towel.

“Is this your way of getting back at me for shocking your body?” Mr. Rex asks.

“No, Mr. Rex. You fucked me so hard that I had to grab onto something.”

This elicits a rare laugh from the T. Rex. Much to my surprise he seems much calmer than I had expected. We walk into a shower and begin to wash ourselves off. I spend some extra time caring for my lover’s scratches. After careful inspection, I notice that the wounds are not very deep at all. By the end of the shower, the wounds are nothing more than red scratches on Mr. Rex’s back. Deep down inside, I feel a sense of pride. I left my mark on Mr. Rex.