TDWP: The Devil's Mistress

by bearblue

After Paris, in a world where bioengineering is a fact of life and sometimes a fashion accessory, Andrea Sachs had few options, except to rise to the top and become mistress of her own kingdom. Five years later, her world is about to change again as a plot by Miranda's enemies brings the editor low and into Andrea's realm.

3. Chapter 3

TDWP: The Devil's Mistress Ch. 3

Miranda did not see Andrea again that particular day, and that was probably to the good. The older woman had plenty to think about. By the end of her sessions with those professionals that Andrea had assigned to her, she was actually quite weary. It had been a long day, a long life. She entered her quarters feeling grateful for the privacy and wondered if that privacy was actually a unique experience for a person of her current condition. If so, then it spoke to kind consideration from Andrea, which Miranda did not take for granted.

She switched on the inner lights and stopped in the small foyer in astonishment. If she recalled correctly, which she knew she did because the memory came up instantly and briefly overlayed the current view, the room and been much more modestly apparelled when she and Andrea left it. She stepped further into the room, taking in the details and finding a surprising harmony with her personality. She felt suddenly free to investigate, an emotion that had been earlier missing, and so she wandered the space, peeking first into the small parlor, which now held fresh cut floral arrangements and the spacious bathroom, which sported recently warmed towels. The bedroom had more pillows, with absolutely luxurious sheets and covers. She ran her hand over coverlet, feeling the rich colors with her palm. It was a form of synesthesia, a trait that had always been her own and a secret weapon in her understanding of design. That extra-sensory modality had been increased, a side effect, she was sure of the rest of her changes. She was simply so glad, so very glad, not to have lost it and at least the color-touch remained so pleasurable for her.

She felt a hot sting of wetness press against her eyelids; fought against the re-emergence of tears. She had shed so many lately and she was already tired. Determined to continue her impromptu self tour, she opened the closet door. She wasn't sure what she had expected to find, she imagined that Andrea would eventually have thought to clothe her in something more than a shift, but the spread of choices before her was almost overwhelming. If she had been anyone else, it might have been. But she was the maven of fashion and this was her forte. She might be blown away by the gesture, but she felt comfortable with it too. She knew clothes and she knew she stared at a collection of clothing and accents that rang with awareness of who she was, including a simple, comfortable looking robe that hung on the inside of the door. She touched it, letting her fingers appreciate the texture and the restful charcoal grey.

She wanted a bath, suddenly craved one and needed it. With simple, quick motions she loosed the robe from its hook and strode towards the bathroom. In a few moments, the large tub was filling and she thought to take a moment to investigate the kitchen and eating space, if only to finish what she had started.

She almost wished she'd started there. A mysterious, gleaming contraption, a single cup coffee-espresso machine was on one counter, accompanied by a tree-like service with tiny ingredient cups and a tray of generous sized mugs. Her hand pressed to her chest and this time the sob was unavoidable and sweeping.

Andrea knew her so well.

- TDWP -

The bath helped. Sleep helped more. She had thought that she might not be able to, but as soon as her head had touched the pillow, she had been gone to the world and all the problems in it. She had awakened feeling strangely calm and welcomed. Miranda checked on her daughters first, calling up their location on the vast wall screen in the sitting room. She had awakened before they had, it being still dark-thirty in the morning. The scene was dark, but she could hear them breathing, knew they were fine and in good care. Just that alone made things so much easier for her.

The coffee buzzed, quite fiercely and powerfully. If she'd been feeling groggy at all, that sensation had been beaten away by the sudden rise in pleasure and wakefulness. She realized she had plenty of energy, but her normal focal points were not available. She was also experiencing another, not at all hazy sensation, one that she honestly had not felt in such measure in a long time; or rather one not felt so abstractly and persistently.

She recognized it. Knew what it meant both as personal event and feature, but felt no obligation of hurry just yet. She had several reasons. One of them was simply that she wanted to savor the sensation, while it remained pleasurable. More, Dr. Addison had her slated for several fixes and adjustments which would reset this new type of biological clock anyway. From Miranda's point of view, it was only practical to see what her current limit was, anyhow. One just never knew what would come in handy.

Which brought her back to what to do with her time. The girls were asleep. She supposed she could see if Andrea was awake, but did not want to presume. Yet.

What Miranda needed most, she supposed, was information, which was something that Andrea apparently excelled at getting and providing. And she, the editor extraordinaire, had always had means and ways of acquiring what she needed. The means and methods might be different, but in this, they were definitely alike.

Miranda accessed the net, read the help files in a flash, and then operated the system. In a few short steps the wall display had several news sites running, all showing content based on particular search parameters; her own name. She listened and watched the cacophony, picking out threads of information to expand upon. One in particular stood out for her and she pulled it forward.

The chairman of the board was speaking into a set of mics, blinking at the bright lights shining in his face. He seemed, to her eyes, to be redder than normal. Despite the fact that he wasn't reading from a teleprompter or even cards, he seemed unable to maintain anyone's gaze for long. No doubt those who did not know him might think it was an aspect of grief, but she had known him for a long time. She knew what it meant. He was lying. She turned up the sound. She expected to hear something about how they were doing all they could to find them. What she heard instead was, "We are saddened by the loss our esteemed colleague and offer our condolences to Jeremy Priestly and his wife for the loss of their children."

If she'd had remote in her hand, she would have thrown it down. She wasn't a woman prone to swearing, but the words spilled out despite herself, echoing mechanically, "Irv Ravitz, you rat ..."

- TDWP -

"... bastard!" Andrea seethed as she watched the news.

"Well, from a certain context it provides proof that he at least is in the know." Lisle commented. She was standing beside Andrea, arms folded. "The most they should be reporting is that Miranda is missing. It's very odd..."

"That they're reporting her as dead. Yes."

Irv Ravitz shifted on his feet, smiling in a bile-inducing way. "Due to the loss in the Runway family, one of our fine editors is returning to the fold. Jacqueline Follett is kindly stepping up to the plate for Runway America..."

"Shit." Andrea said. "Please tell me Miranda hasn't seen this yet."

"Surely she wouldn't be up this early."

Andrea gave Lisle a wide-eyed glare. "Hon, you don't know Miranda."

They were interrupted before their dialog could get much further. A knock on the door was the sole prelude before a tall, wide man stepped in.

"Derik. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We got someone who needs your touch, boss. You've seen him once before and he's slacked again." Derik gave Andrea a brief rundown, which caused the brunette's displeasure with the day to increase.

"Where is he?" The big man cocked his thumb at the door.

"Bring him in. Contact Jason. Lisle, if you don't mind manning the desk in the meantime."

Lisle promptly did as Andrea requested, suddenly glad she wasn't going to be the one on the receiving end of that look.

Derik and another burly guard brought in a third person. He was shorter and wiry. He wouldn't quite meet her eyes, but she could see that he had been stubborn already as he opened his mouth to speak, most likely to justify his actions, or lack thereof. Sadly, speaking to his Mistress out of turn was just another offense.

She raised her hand, "Save me the details. I don't care. You know what is required of you and why. Let me remind you of the agreement you made..." Which she did. Then Andrea observed the stubborn expression and decided she had no time for it. "You have two choices. Do as I say because I say it or do it because I've enacted your protocol. One will be uncomfortable for you and I'll have Jason do your disciplining, but the other will be something you regret and remember for the rest of your life and I will be the one to see to it. You already know I will follow through. Oh, and I don't have to remind you what will happen if we must go through this a third time, do I?" The man shook his head. "So, your choice is?"

"Jason."

"Wise decision." Andrea's voice was cold and unyielding. "Jason will decide which privileges will be revoked and you will deal with it. You will be permitted forty-eight hours of recovery time and follow any medical advice given for said recovery, with no complaints."

- TDWP -

Andrea was just about to excuse everyone when she heard the sound of a really familiar pace, click-clacking down her hallway. She heard a frantic and obviously dismayed Lisle cry out, "Wait. You can't go in there!"

Then Miranda swept into Andrea's office like a storm. She ignored the presence of the others, and was focused solely on the brunette. It was a kind of saving grace. Andrea wasn't entirely sure that the other woman had even noticed them, really. To Miranda's credit, her mechanical voice did not rise, but her words were rapid and practically as full of motion as she was. The fervor of her mission carried a near tone of command, with an expectation that her demands would be met. "I must get to Runway as soon as possible. I must have the Book. Irv and Jacqueline. It is unthinkable. You have no reason to keep me here now anyway, surely they can fix me elsewhere. Send me and the girls..."

Andrea snapped out, "4289. Be silent and still." Miranda paused mid motion, mouth closing as she settled into a standing position. "4289. Please observe your surroundings, then return to point."

The silver-haired woman's gaze took in the room, the people in it, the hapless fellow between two bodyguards who was suddenly gulping; not for himself, but for her. She blinked as her perusal continued, taking in the frantic arrival of the assistant, before she returned her attention to Andrea. That told her one important thing, point was always Andrea.

Lisle said, "It's partly my fault. I didn't get to the door fast enough."

Andrea raised her hand in a stopping motion. She said, quietly, "4289. You will move to the desk, turn around, bend over, spread your legs, and place both palms flat on the desk. Nod if you understand the meaning of the command. Then, follow through."

Miranda's eyes widened as she nodded. Then she pivoted around and promptly positioned herself, not merely as commanded, by as intended by the command.

"Lisle," Andrea's voice rose only enough to reach a hear-able speaking level and no more. "Please have everyone exit the office and lock the door behind you. I will call you if I need you."

Miranda did not have to look to see Lisle leaving. She heard it; heard the click of the door, the latch switching around. She could even hear Andrea breathing through her nose, long, deep even breaths that told her that the other woman was attempting to control her responses. It grew so quiet otherwise, that for a moment Miranda thought that this embarrassment might be all there was.

Then she heard a whistle of air and felt a stinging slap on her buttocks. And then another. And then another. Each one was hand delivered, with a solid slap of sound. Miranda could practically feel the impression of Andrea's palm as a form of heat and tingling zing.

"Miranda Priestly." Two more swats accompanied her name. The older woman drew hissing breaths, as quietly as she was able, in response. "I will not have you risking your life or breaking my people's discipline!"

Miranda felt her skirt being rolled up her legs and over her hips, revealing what was underneath; which was not much. "4289, I'm going to divest you of the panties, you will cooperate and retake your position."

In a few moments Miranda was wearing less than she had started with and right back where she had been.

"You did not have anyone sleep with you last night Miranda. 4289, You may reply to questions implied or otherwise, so long as they are directed at you by me."

"It didn't seem necessary."

"Lying to yourself is lying to me. Do not ever lie to me." The swats that followed snapped through the air and stung like they had been applied with more force; which, as her body pushed a little toward the desk, she realized they really had been. The shock literally took Miranda's breath away. "Now try again. Why didn't you have anyone sleep with you last night?"

"Aside from the fact it had already been a long day? I have never been a person prone to excessive personal contact and everyone here, except for yourself and my children, are strangers. I understand the necessity, I just... reject it."

This time, when she felt Andrea's hand, it was a smooth caress that slid across her backside. "Better." The touch ended and Miranda heard the soft sigh and exhaled one of her own. Her skirt was drawn back down and then a few seconds later, Andrea took her seat in front of her desk and scooted forward. She folded her hands on the desk, palms down, then rested her chin on her hands. "Rejecting it doesn't make it go away."

Miranda realized that Andrea had given her a great deal of latitude with her permissions. She used it to reply, "I am aware, but I was also using the opportunity to experiment and see what my limitations are."

Andrea scooted forward even more, lifting her head until was even with Miranda's and they were looking into each other's eyes. She placed her hands on Miranda's, palms on top, but not heavily so. "It's not like going without meals, though I see you thought of the comparison. I can't help but think there are other reasons, but I accept your answers as credible, if foolish. Dr. Addison wants to wait seventy-two hours. That's forever for someone with your features. I am doing my best to see that you have choice, but the longer you wait, the more your choices will be stripped from you. Not because I will it so, but because your programming will take over. More, if I have to intervene, I will do so in what I deem the most effective way and the first time you feel the rush won't be the pleasant thing it could be. If you wait that long, and I choose to be the one to take you on, just because I respect who you are and know what you mean by the term strangers, then I become the bad guy. If you wait that long, and I choose to have someone else do the honors, they will be my surrogate, and you will know it, and I will know it and I will still be the one who failed you and I might as well have done it anyway. Miranda, I can't do this. I cannot do this to you. So I am begging you. Don't put this off. Don't play games with the timing. Use a vibrator if you hate the idea of a stranger, but do something." Andrea's hands squeezed the older woman's gently.

"Now, about heading off to rescue Runway... I know you want to. I understand why. I also know you can't. Not yet. Until Dr. Addison corrects your general parameters, you are vulnerable. As soon as you walked into Runway, and if he is the one behind this like I assume we both are beginning to suspect, all Irv would have to do is state some general purpose slave commands and he'd have you. He'd have you Miranda. He might not have your exact number and your exact codes, but a lot of damage can be done with the basic commands while the options are still active. All he would have to say is, "Slave, sit"...

Miranda's palms slid out from Andrea's and she was abruptly on the ground, sitting. Andrea leaned over the desk. "... and you would be so screwed." The younger woman sighed. "I should leave you there, to make sure the point sticks. But I won't. 4289. Stand up, come over to my side of the desk and sit in my lap, as comfortably as you can."

Miranda soon found herself sliding onto Andrea's lap and into her arms. She expected to sit rigidly, but her body sunk into the contact almost as immediately as the younger woman put her arms around her. She even exhaled so deeply that it passed the notion of sigh and was an utter sound of contentment. And abruptly, she realized she was content. Then Andrea leaned her face against Miranda's head. The resulting epiphany was so brilliant her breath almost left her.

Andrea's hands did not roam. She simply held the silver-haired woman and asked, "Do you have any thing you want to say?"

"I couldn't find you. I looked everywhere. I had you blacklisted, so you would come crashing my gates like I knew you would, but you didn't. I hired detectives. They came back saying you must be dead and that there was nothing to find. I asked your friends. Threatened them, begged them. Then I talked with your parents. We were all... so lost without you. I finally accepted. I came to ... a form of understanding ... that I would never see you again. Never be able to tell you that I was wrong to say those things. I was pushing you away and pushing every button I knew how..." Miranda realized that her hand was tracing the upper curve of Andrea's breast, thought to stop it, but then realized she was comfortable... "You ought to call your parents. They miss you."

"I have tried. I just... how could I ever explain..."

"Maybe they would just want to see you and hold you. Be held by you." Miranda laid her hand fully on the roundness of Andrea's breast, cupping it, holding it, feeling the press of the younger woman's clothed nipple press against her palm. The crimson of her outfit buzzed in her hand, tickled it very pleasantly. "I realized, when I hired the detectives, that I wasn't searching for my ex-employee. I knew my motivations were far beyond that mere activity. But, honestly, while you were my assistant, I hadn't seen... hadn't understood ..." Miranda exhaled. "I want you Andrea Sachs, but I don't want you if it's because you have to. It's humiliating and awful to think that you would touch me only because you respect me. My pride... my pride won't allow it and I think... a part of me thinks I'd rather die."

"Except for the part that loves your girls."

"Yes. And I fear that's not enough." Miranda tilted her head back, so she could look into warm brown eyes.

"I didn't know Miranda. I thought... I thought you would never want to see me again. I left you."

"Yes. You did. And at a terrible point in time to do it. But I thought we would have seen each other again and I looked forward to reaming you a new one. At first."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"As if you had a choice."

"Precisely. Are you okay about Runway?"

"No. But I understand why you won't send me to the lions den."

"Runway will still be there. You fixed it before. You can fix it again. And you have insiders..."

"Emily. Emily will be very much in danger."

"Shit. I'll have Lisle send some people. We'll squirrel her away if we have to. Serena too. I think... Nigel will be okay. It would look too suspicious for him to 'disappear' so soon after your apparent 'death', but him as well if necessary, although... I hate to take out our one possible link to the inside."

"Jacqueline knows I betrayed Nigel. He could play that up. But might need a hint. You posted them before, can you do it again?"

"Yes. I'll see to it. I wanted you too, Miranda. Before. Looking back, I think I wanted you from the beginning. Believe me, I wouldn't have taken that kind of abuse from anyone, which should have been my first clue. I still want you now. But... I am so aware of what I can do to you. There's no safe word. There's no off. It turns me on to know it, but it appalls me too. I make it sound like making love to you would be a chore, but I'd love to be the one to bring you to your heights and depths. But there's a thing... most of us are switch hitters now, but I have more power than most and sometimes, I act on that power. And monogamy... sweetheart... it's... I would love to be able to say there wouldn't be others in my bed, but I was tempered by a forge that bent and molded me to where I am now. I know how your husbands hurt you. And the thought of hurting you that way... that's why I keep stepping away and try to keep it as impersonal as possible..."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But it would be different, wouldn't it? I would know, from the outset and I have my own set of features to worry about. It would be different Andrea, with you and me. Neither of us really know how I would react now, other than habitually, and even then you can't predict everything, unless it's some feature I don't know about. Is there a prophecy feature implanted in you?"

Andrea chuckled. "No. Nothing like that." Quiet grew between them and settled for a few minutes. Finally Andrea said, quietly, "I know you're going to go your own speed on this. I will accept that to a point. 4289, reset communication and movement parameters." The older woman, who might have moments ago leaped from her lap like she was scorched, didn't move immediately. Andrea kissed Miranda lightly on the lips, the kind of kiss that told the other woman that her infraction had been forgiven. "You are going to have to remember yourself here in my domain, Miranda. I allow you a great deal of latitude, because of who you are to me, but I can not and will not permit you to undermine my authority here. Your personality is who you are, and I love who you are, but only when we are alone. Until this situation is straightened out, when in the presence of others, except maybe Lisle and Addison and others that we absolutely trust, you must remember that I am Mistress and you are Slave."

- TDWP -

Miranda left Andrea's office more circumspectly than she had arrived. She took a moment to speak with Lisle. "I caused you an inconvenience. I do not normally apologize for anything I do, but I have cause to rethink my position." The fashion maven offered a bemused smile. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would forgive my hasty intrusion. I won't bore you with the details of why, but I recognize it was inappropriate."

Lisle considered and said, "Thank you, Miranda. Consider it water under the bridge. Is there anything I can do for you?"

The editor-displaced realized it was just a courtesy, but she'd had a thought, or two, which had developed from her time with Andrea. "Would you be able to set an appointment with Dr. Montgomery for me. I would like to speak with her. I expect it wouldn't be more than twenty minutes."

"I'll see what I can do."

- TDWP -

Her visit with Addison did not take long, but was a profitable discussion. Miranda had made a few specific requests, which the redhead had been amenable to, as it folded well into the adjustments already planned. All she'd said was, "I'm glad you have been thinking about it, Miranda. I love it when my patients are part of the process. We want this to be a good fit for you. That's the whole point."

Miranda had simply smiled. "Indeed." Then she paused. "I do have a question. Where does one find the oft-suggested toys?"

Addison grinned. "It depends. Do you just want to supply or do you want to try the new stuff?"

"Ah. That is an interesting question you pose. Why don't you tell me about both options?"

- TDWP -

"Miranda!" The perky not-really-a-cheerleader, smiled so warmly at the editor that the older woman had to smile back. "What brings you to my lab?" She lifted her goggles away from her face. They left impressions around the bridge of her nose and cheeks, which did not take away from her attractiveness at all.

"Oddly enough, Jayden, a request of sorts. Addison reminded me that you are an expert on sexual aids, a builder of experimental units and that you happened to know my... Mistress very well. Would that be correct?"

"Aye, that'd be correct, alright. What did you want to know?"

"In my previous life I was a woman of some wealth. I may yet be, as my lawyers are actually very good and despite the declarations of my death on TV, I doubt strongly that those tossing around the idea have any proof."

"You think you can pay me."

"I believe so. If nothing else, I can always ask my Mistress for assistance in the fiscal department until such time as I can procure the cash."

Jay raised her hand. "Don't bother. No cash needed." She leered slightly. "I take other forms of payment."

Miranda blinked. Then opened her mouth and then considered. Jayden's name was on the list, but the older woman wasn't sure if she were ready to confront things yet. "I do not know if I can, then. I am sorry to have bothered you."

"Whoa, wait. Hold on now. Didn't mean to scare you. I know what it was like. I remember. It's not so easy being us. You think I was this glorious being to start. Oh no. Our Andy, however, she works some miracles. So. You and I, we will say, perhaps and maybe. Or maybe we just settle for kisses and hugs. They say we only get our fullest fulfilment when we've had enough of those. Have you? Had enough of those?" Jayden was apparently fearless. Another place, another life, and Miranda would have turned right around and left the room. Here though, she was beginning to realize she had a certain amount of freedom from her previous life's necessities. She did not have to be the one in charge.

"I... The only people who hug me are my children." Then Miranda paused, "And my Mistress." It was getting easier and easier to say that with Jayden. The older woman had not had to with Dr. Montgomery, but she had known she would eventually have to do use the phrase. It was less painful than she had thought it would be. On the other hand, if it had been anyone except Andrea, the entire notion would have been utterly unacceptable and she would have fought tooth and nail; which said something...

"That's terrible. Hugs and kisses it is, plus the perhaps and maybes. You need some. You can call her Andy in my presence if you want."

"No. I really can't."

"Oh. Did that to you, did she?"

"Not quite. Almost. It's an agreement we seem to have made, for the sake of our natures. At one time our positions were quite reversed. I am much more dominant in my normal life. "

"Of course, you are. One can tell just by the way you walk, like you own the world. Which..." Jayden tapped her temple and turned for a moment, grabbing a pencil and then pacing to the drafting desk in her office. "You're probably not one for bright colors. Flesh tones. Unless you already have... " She turned and squinted at Miranda. "You got a note from Addie, by any chance? That will give me some information I need and avoid me asking questions bound to make you blush."

"Addie?" Miranda did not point out that she had been through so many indignities of late that one more seemed par for the course.

"Doc Addison. Dr. Montgomery. McDevil."

"McDevil?"

"Oh, get her to tell you the story of her time in Seattle. They called her that, among other things."

"She is a strong woman."

Her tone was so empathetic that Jayden asked, "What do they call you?"

"Ice Queen. Dragon Lady. Devil in Heels."

"Hah!" Jayden continued to sketch and note. "So, did she?"

"Yes. It's in a file?"

"Port it to my terminal and I'll pick it up in my interface."

Miranda checked her internal guides as to the how to, then followed Jayden's directive. In a few short seconds, the woman had access to the prurient details.

A few seconds later, Jayden was standing in front of her, pencil tucked in her hair and measuring tape in hand. " We are going to take what you already have and make it better. I'll be sending suggestions to the good doctor. Whoever did this to you... well, we shall make sure it benefits you, yes. I'm going to shut the door. Then you, my friend, must take your clothes off. Think of me as a very naughty tailor."

Miranda was amused to realize she did.

- TDWP -