Fifty-seven unanswered calls. Dismiss. Twelve new important messages. Mark as read. Two-hundred unimportant. Archive. As usual, the aftermath was easy to deal with. Someone else would do it for her. With her free hand, Maggie sent off her hover-pad and it docked in its place on a nearby wall, but even with all distractions removed, she couldn’t quite put the encounter with the girl behind her. However personal it might be, it was unfinished business. Then again, Maggie was a master at keeping business unfinished, just long enough that when the deal was finally sealed, it’d feel so much better for all parties involved.<br/><br/>“Do you want to come today?” Maggie asked the blindfolded boy, and stopped moving her hand around his heavily lubed erection.<br/><br/>“Yes,” he uttered hastily through his breathing, “I thought about it—while you were gone.”<br/><br/>“Today’s the day?” Maggie said, though her tone made the question rhetorical.<br/><br/>The leather cuffs above the soldier’s head creaked as he made his hands into fists around the metal chains that bound his stretched arms to the ceiling. The woman responded to his need by embracing him from behind, until he could feel her nipple hardening against his bare back, just above the leathery edge of her quarter-cup corset bra. When she continued to slide her hand back and forth with a gentle motion of her wrist, he was no longer able to hold back his moans, and it took only a few more moments until the crystal clear surface of a glass coffee table in front of him began to receive a new topping in the form of spiraling ropes of thick ejaculate. Days, or weeks, of build-up, released in a climax of barely three seconds. This time, however, there was no media coverage, and for once, Madam Greer had got her hands properly dirty.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>