Maggie

Her life had been one big clusterfuck up to this point. She was twenty-six years of age and in the past two years had lost eight close friends and family members.

Her best friend Fiona was one of the first to die. She committed suicide by hanging herself when life had become altogether too much. But she had no idea of the heartache she left behind.

After Fiona, she lost her grandfather, two grandmothers, an aunt, and another friend. Then on the one year anniversary of losing her grandmother, she lost another aunt as well as another friend.

To summarise, life was truly fucking her and doing it royally.

On the day of her grandmothers one year anniversary, she lost her friend and aunt. That was the moment she decided she was going to stop carrying about what everyone thought about her. She was going to do what she wanted, with who she wanted, when she wanted, and no one was going to stop her. From that moment she was out in the world for her own gratification and she would take it all.

On a 10th of July, she was stood in front of her wardrobe, which consisted of everything black. This is me. In a constant state of mourning, she thought to herself. Pulling all the clothes out, she found one solitary dress that was not black. She had completely forgotten about the red dress.

The red jersey wrap dress with its plunging neckline and spaghetti straps would do just nicely. She pulled it from the wardrobe and put it on. Standing in front of the floor length mirror, she stared at herself, running her hands down her sides, across her stomach and down across her hips.

"Not bad." She smiled at herself.

She pulled on a pair of black leather heels, grabbed her bag and headed out the door. She hailed a cab as she walked down the steps of her house. A passing cab screeched to a halt to pick her up.

Handing the driver a fifty, she gave him an address and told him not to ask any questions. They travelled in silence for about three miles before stopping at a residence with large electric gates.

She thanked the driver as she got out the cab.

She walked to the gates and pressed the buzzer.

"Yes?" a deep voice asked.

"It's Maggie," she said, looking into the camera.

A few moments later a car appeared at the other side of gate, which opened to let Maggie in.

"Miss McDonald. Please get in the car. I'll take you up to the house." A man in a black suit smiled as he opened the car door.

"Thank you." Maggie smiled back as she got in the car.

They drove for a couple of minutes before the house appeared at the top of the hill. It was a huge, stately mansion.

The car door opened as it came to a halt. Another man was there to help Maggie out of the car by offering his hand.

"This way," he gestured.

Maggie followed the man into the entrance hall of the mansion. She looked around at all the marble sculptures and art. She heard footsteps approach behind her.

"You must be Maggie," a rugged voice asked.

"Yes, I am. You must be Charles." she turned to face the middle aged man with grey hair and a well groomed beard.

"Shall we?" He held out his hand for her to walk in front of him as he gestured for her to go up the grand staircase.

She walked two steps in front of him, the dress tightly hugging her hips that swayed when she ascended the stairs. Charles walked behind her, staring at her ass the whole time.

"Which way?" Maggie asked.

"To the left," he commanded.

She opened the door into the master bedroom, where there was a four-poster bed with black silk sheets and a fur throw rug. He walked round her and sat in a large chair beside the bed.

"Strip," he told her.

She put her bag on the sideboard and walked towards him, stopping in front of him.

"Open your mouth," she said, taking command. He obeyed, upon which, she put the tie of the dress in his mouth. "Now bite down." Again, he did as she asked and was rewarded by seeing the dress unwrap itself as she walked away from him, backwards.

A smile grew across Charles' face as he let go of the tie. Maggie slipped the dress off of her shoulders and stood in front of him wearing nothing but her black high heels and a smile.

"You weren't kidding when you said you were ready to take the world." He smiled.

"On your knees," she commanded as she walked back towards him.

He obliged her request by getting onto his knees in front of her. She placed one of her feet on the chair over his shoulder.

"Eat me," she commanded, looking down at him.

His eyes darted up to her, looking for some sort of emotional response. She gave him nothing but a black, icy stare.

"NOW!!" she slapped his face.

His hands ran up her legs as he began kissing the inside of her thigh working his way towards her request. He stopped just before her lips, inhaling her scent. She reached down and grabbed his hair, forcing his face into her pussy.

"I told you to eat my pussy!" she yelled.

"Yes, mistress," he mumbled between her thighs.