Pride and Punishment

By Holly Cartwright

Amy Swallow, young, talented and beautiful is the leading light of London's liberal journalism but her personal life has suffered and she seeks solace in unsatisfying promiscuity.

When she spots Alexander Broadmoor, the handsome and enigmatic cabinet minister, and poster boy for the establishment she is determined to destroy him. His dark secret that she begins to uncover is his ultimate weakness and she knows it but Amy has more than met her match in the aristocratic politician.

They begin to battle for supremacy over the other, blurring the lines of love and hatred, pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy.

It is a battle that could destroy them both, and yet may be their salvation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Jun 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781783332205

Book preview

78

Amy Swallow

I want to be interviewing that stuck up asshole by the end of the week. You make that happen or you get yourself another job. Understood?

Amy Swallow, head of investigative journalism at The Daily Monitor, a thriving London broadsheet, was addressing her team in the paper’s conference room. Five people sat at the table looking nervous as she paced powerfully at the front of the room. She was a young woman with a terrifying and ruthless determination.

Understood? she shouted at them again.

Yes, Miss Swallow. Understood, was the cowered reply.

Amy Swallow was younger than every person who was in that room, just twenty-five. She was considerably less-experienced in the journalism profession, but she was feared by them all. Amy was tall and gently curved around her hips and behind and had an impressively ample chest that sat up pert and demanded attention. She had an undeniably beautiful face, sharp featured and high cheek boned and angular in a way that gave her a slightly aggressive look. She had long blonde hair that she straightened with a zeal for perfection.

I want Alexander Broadmoor on a plate. I want to know if he’s got the balls to take on the highest profile journalist in London today. I want to know if he’s got the balls to go toe to toe with me. He won’t want to do it. He’ll be scared to take it on. But if he’s as ambitious as people say he is, if he really is the latest rising political star, then he won’t be able to resist the big spread, the exposure that he knows I will give him. So get him for me. Tempt him with everything I am, everything I can offer him. Seduce that aristocratic throw back. Appeal to his desire to be Prime Minister. But get him for me and let me rip through him.

Those present nodded and scribbled down notes. The worried looks on their faces suggested that this task might be too much. They knew more about Alexander Broadmoor than she did, and getting that interview wouldn’t be achieved by flattering him, or appealing to ambition. He was a sight more complicated than that.

What do we know about him? she asked. What have you got for me?

Thirty-five, aristocratic family, said one of the women present.

Not good enough, Amy replied. Come on. I want more.

The bright young star of the Conservative government, promoted into the cabinet seemingly having done little to warrant the position, said one of the men present.

Better, said Amy. More.

Etonian, Oxfordian -

Oxonian, Amy corrected.

Into parliament almost as a right of birth given his family. Some people accuse him of arrogance.

Naturally. What else?

Minister of Foreign Affairs. A steady cabinet role, said another. Probably indicates he’s being groomed by the Conservative top brass for the future.

I want more.

Limited accounts of him from friends or associates. Never been profiled personally in the press. Unknown quantity.

And?

Last Minister in that role sacked for drunkenness. Perhaps Conservative elite see him as someone who can sit down and say nothing? A poster boy, a good face, to sit on the front bench. But trusted to not bring any negative headlines? Perhaps.

The last comment came from Dylan, a thirty year old journalist and the newest member of Amy Swallow’s support team.

She was glaring at him.

You’re just giving me guess work. It’s bullshit. I need to know about this fucker. I don’t want to know what you think he might be like. Fuck me, Dylan. Did you really just say that shit?

He hesitated. Looking around at the others for support he found nothing. His voice wavering, he said, I thought we were bouncing ideas around, you know, brain storming and stuff.

I don’t do brain storming and stuff, Dylan. I do facts. I do the best fucking investigative journalism in the world and the best fucking features this paper has ever seen. I haven’t got time for your fucking wandering mind.

Sorry.

Everyone get the fuck out, she said. And get me that fucking interview.

Her team stood up and left quickly, everyone happy to get out of that oppressive atmosphere of intimidation and searing pressure.

Amy spoke up. Dylan, wait back, she said.

Dylan did as instructed.

Shut the door.

He did as instructed.

Lock it and shut the blinds.

He did as instructed.

Look, he said I’m sorry about that. The other teams I’ve worked in we put theories forward. I know what you want now.

You clearly don’t know what I want, she said. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about all that. Now come here and lick me.

Dylan stood motionless, his mouth open, his face incredulous. Did he just hear her right? Did she just say lick me?

Amy sat back on the desk, hitched her skirt up and pulled her thin black panties down stepping out of them and leaving them crumpled on the floor as she widened her stance.

Dylan remained motionless, shocked and petrified.

Get between my legs and lick my pussy before I change my mind.

Dylan looked at the exposed thighs and shaven flesh between Amy’s legs, with the soft pink lips perfectly formed and realised this was too good an opportunity to pass up on. Amy Swallow was a stunning young woman who he had masturbated over more than once since starting work with her. And now she was inviting him to lick her beautiful pussy. Fuck, what was he waiting for?

He walked over to her, knelt between her legs and started to kiss up the flesh of her thighs.

Oh, come on man, she said. Let’s get to the pussy for fuck’s sake. And she grabbed his head and pulled it into her pink flesh then lent back and started to grope over her large breasts.

He licked over her pussy with real enthusiasm now, using his fingers to part her lips and expose her clit and sucking at it and, at the same time, sliding a finger into her tight hole and fingering up towards her g-spot. His tongue flicked in and out of her hole and then back up to flick over her clit. He was enjoying the taste of her, perfumed almost, so clean and smooth and perfect.

Oh, yeah, you fucker. Lick my pussy. Lick it like you love it. Come on, show me you love it.

Amy opened up her top and pulled one of her large breasts from her bra and started playing with her nipple, pulling it up to her mouth and licking over it and squeezing at it hard, enjoying that dull pain that seemed to vibrate through her breasts as much as that rampant tongue over her clit.

Dylan looked up at her playing with her beautiful tits and felt his dick get achingly hard. He was desperate to get his hand onto his cock and start playing with it. He was so turned on that his body begged for it but he didn’t dare to take the chance with her as he couldn’t tell how she would react to it.

Oh, Dylan, now you’re getting there. Go on, suck on my clit as hard as you can. Really suck it you dirty fucker. Stick your fingers up inside me.

He did as instructed. She had her hand down between her legs now and was pulling her flesh open for him to get right in at her swollen clit.

That’s fucking good. You lick pussy really fucking good. Now get up here and fuck me.

He looked up at her and again hesitated.

Get up here and fuck me. For Christ’s sake. A girl shouldn’t ever need to say that twice?

He jumped up and immediately started to undo his trousers. She sat up and helped him slide down his boxer shorts and she took hold of his hard, throbbing cock and gave it a couple of playful tugs before leaning back and lifting her legs up so the her feet were on the table, her knees up high and spread wide.

Come on. Fuck me as hard as you can.

He did not need to be asked another time. He was so hot and hard and consumed by his desires, his fire fuelled by that beautiful pussy of hers, like none he had ever known, so perfectly formed and smooth and tasting so fucking good, that he could feel the urge to come like water boiling and bubbling inside him, building up pressure that was going to have him coming with astonishing force. He looked her over once more, stunningly beautiful, intimidatingly so, and incredibly hot with her big full tits out of her blouse and her legs spread wide with her sweet pussy inviting him into her. Oh, fuck, this was too much he thought to himself.

She took hold of his cock and guided him into her hole. He was a good size, nice and thick, so that she could feel the strain on her sex in that first instance as he pushed into her. It was quite tight and there was plenty of resistance but she encouraged him on.

Push it in. Push it in hard. Come on, baby, fuck that dick inside me.

He did as asked. Gripping onto her thighs he pulled himself into her so that his entire length slid past the tightness and deep into her warm, wonderful sex. His face immediately revealed the intense sensation of pleasure that was washing over him from that simple act of entering her. He looked washed over by some blissful drug that made his whole body swim with feelings of ecstasy.

Oh, that is a great fucking pussy you have there.

Fuck it really hard for me, she said and she used both her hands to grip her nipples and squeeze firmly at her beautiful full breasts.

Dylan started to pump in and out of her, building up his speed and clearly luxuriating in the brilliant sensations his dick was firing through him. His hands gripped her harder and he really started to pull himself into her now, hard and fast, pumping his full length deep into her, his heavy balls, bulging with come, slapping onto her buttocks. She was watching him really closely, picking up on his facial expressions, watching how his pleasure levels were spiralling beyond anything he could control.

Really fuck it hard, she whispered to him. As hard as you can. Come on. Harder.

He couldn’t fuck at that pussy that hard and last though. It was too good, too much. He could feel the onset of a powerful orgasm about to be released. He wanted to come so much now, every part of his was desperate to shoot his load.

I’ve gotta fucking come, he said almost breathless with exertion. Where do you want it?

Right in my pussy. All of it up inside me.

Oh, yes. Here it comes. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck yes. Take it all.

He thrust himself one last time as deep into her as he could go, pushing himself in right up to the hilt, and emptied himself in a powerful blast of spunk that kept on firing out of the tip of his dick and into the back of her sex, still more shooting out with such force that both could feel it. His face was lost in ecstasy, his eyes closed, his cheeks red and a dazed, happy, bewildered expression was all that he could manage.

He slid out of her and tucked his fading dick back into his trousers then did himself back up.

Holy shit, he said. That was so fucking intense.

Amy was already off the table and pulling her knickers back on and tucking her breasts back into her bra. As she straightened out her skirt and blouse she strode for the door.

You do not say a fucking word of this to anyone. Understand? If anyone asks I tore a strip off you for being so fucking useless. Understand?

Dylan was taken aback by her sudden transformation into the hissing aggressor once again. What was with this woman?

Yes. Understood, he said with a surprised, even disappointed, look on his face.

You tell anyone and you never work again.

Amy left with a purposeful stride and a pussy full of come leaking out into her knickers and trickling down her thigh. The office looked at her and then looked away because they could see from her expression that she was looking for someone, anyone, to give her a chance to destroy them. She was to be left well alone when she had that look about her and that powerful stride.

She took herself to the toilet and sat down to clean out the come from between her legs. As she sat there letting it drain from her she reflected on the sex she had just had with someone she had never felt attracted to before. He’d enjoyed himself obviously but there hadn’t been much going on for her. It all felt good having your pussy licked at like that and it felt good to have a dick inside you as well but, if she was perfectly frank with herself, she knew that it wasn’t lighting her up, it wasn’t igniting her with a wild arousal. Most importantly she hadn’t even climaxed. She hadn’t really got anywhere near. But then, she never did.

Sat there she felt frustrated. That whole spontaneous fuck on the conference table with someone she hardly knew should have blown her to bits with a filthy, sluttish lust and made her desperate to climax. But it just didn’t seem to click. She was saying the right things and doing the right things but not from some subconscious level where you lose control of body and mind during sex but simply because that’s what she thought she should be saying to look like she was good at fucking. And she had to be good at fucking. She was good at everything.

She was clean of come now and getting annoyed of thinking about how little success she seemed to have with sex. She left the toilets and went back to her office.

One of the female members of her team was waiting for her.

What?

We have an initial agreement to the interview already in place. We are about to get Alexander Broadmoor for you.

A smile spread across Amy Swallow’s face. Yes, let me at Alexander Broadmoor. Let me destroy him. That’s what I do best.

Alexander Broadmoor

Alexander Broadmoor was already making quite an impact in his new position at The Houses of Parliament in Westminster, and not entirely for the right reasons. As soon as he had been appointed he had arranged for a visit to see his dear friend and mentor, the Italian President. Outwardly it was a meeting between two important international politicians. In truth, it was almost entirely social, with only lip service paid to politics. The Italian President was a gregarious character, given to parties, normally involving large numbers of beautiful women,