Worthy of the Billionaire's Attention
I sat admiring Mr. King's picture on the cover of a magazine in the waiting room of his company’s tower. Gregory King had aged little in the photo from when I saw him last. Would he even recognize me? I had met Gregory King back when he went by Tech and was a member of the Prairie Devils. He had been dangerous and cunning back then, and judging by the glare on the magazine cover, business dealings hadn't changed that. From the heat in those hazel eyes, he was still the same fierce man, just wearing a suit instead of leather.
Gregory King was frequently featured in both Forbes’ Magazine’s list of Richest Men and People Magazine’s list of sexiest men alive. He was the founder of a small software company that suddenly found itself the main security software for hand-held devices. There was speculation that he created the security software based on the holes he had exploited for the Prairie Devils. There were rumors he still exploited those holes for them.
He had been good with computers when I met him, but I had always suspected he had more expertise than he had let me see. Being with him, and thus his motorcycle gang had been dangerous enough without me knowing exactly what he could do. When the company had soared above everyone's expectations he had changed his persona to that of a business man, but never forgot his roots with the motorcycle club. Most of his bodyguards and security teams were Prairie Devils.
But that wasn't why he was a fixture in all the magazines. Every magazine enjoyed featuring him in pictures as his strong jaw and boyish blonde hair always made for gorgeous covers. His eyes were an odd combination of blue and brown that refused to be classified and held a smolder that threatened to light the pages on fire.
He kept a treadmill in his office that he used between meetings and a set of weights for when he was between clients. As a result, his body looked as though he spent hours in the gym instead of the office. When he wasn't in his office, he was out on his motorcycle.
I thought back to the first time I had seen him. I had met him when my car broke down in front of a biker bar. It was not a good place for a sweet little college freshman on summer break to have her transmission blow. He had basically rescued me and now I was applying for an entry-level job at his company. I hoped he could rescue me again.
His eyes consumed me from across the table.
“You want to do this?”
“Yes”
I gasped with pleasure as he took me in his arms and pinned me to the table. Knowing that he would put me exactly where he wanted me, that I was at his mercy was intoxicating. My pussy dampened at just the thought of it. He bit my collar bone gently, and then sucked on the delicate skin of my throat, leaving a large sensitive red mark. It hurt in such a tantalizing way that I couldn’t wait for more.
I shook my head, clearing the memory. Gregory King was the best sex I had ever had. Our first time together had been an alcohol fueled passion in a crappy hotel room. I had known him for precisely three hours and four drinks, but I had invited him hotel room he had helped me find while my car was in the shop. There was something dangerous about him that I couldn't say no to. That I didn't want to say no to.
The next day, he tied me to the bed and gave me one of the most pleasurable experiences of my life. I stopped my road-trip to California and stayed in the Midwest town for the summer just to be with him. I got a job as a diner waitress in town with a tiny apartment instead of going to Hollywood. Despite the very non-exotic local, it was the best summer of my life. Every night was better than the last. It was spectacular, and I never wanted it to end.
When summer ended, he told me to go back to school. “This is no place for a girl like you,” he had said. “You are going to do great things. You can't stay here.” I had been heartbroken, but I left. My dangerous outlaw love had to end. I had to go back to school, back to real life, and back to my degree. I had worked too hard on school to just give up and be a waitress for the rest of my life. I often wondered, especially when I lost my job, if I had made the right choice.
Our last night together, he had tied me to a chair and taught me how well pain and pleasure could mix. I had tried to keep in touch with him, but his motorcycle didn't exactly come equipped with wi-fi for Facebook. Not that he was the Facebook type to begin with. After I left, I got one phone message and then nothing. The next time I saw him it was on the cover of a magazine as an up-and-coming business man.
“Claire Vanders?” A mousy secretary brought me back to reality. I stood up, smoothed my skirt and picked up my resume. She brought me to a conference room and showed me to a seat. There was only one other person in the room, a tall wiry man, busy reading over papers scattered across the table. His grey hair was cropped short and he peered at me over thin wire glasses.
“Ms. Vanders? You are here to apply for the finance junior associate position, is that correct?”
I nodded and handed him my resume. He took it from me, but didn’t even look at it as he set it on the table. It disappeared into his conglomeration of documents. I swallowed into a dry throat. I needed this job. I was over-qualified for this job.
“My name is Mr. Jenkins, and I have been instructed to hire you, Ms. Vanders, but not for the junior associate position. King Enterprises would like to offer you a position in the finance department as liaison to Mr. King himself. He saw your name on the application list and requested you personally.”
I was pretty sure my jaw was bruised from it hitting the table. This was the best interview I had ever had and I hadn’t even said a word yet. I couldn’t believe my luck.
“A liaison to Mr. King? Would I be working with him personally?” I finally managed to sputter out after a moment of silence. My tongue tripped over most of the words and my voice cracked at the end. I am not entirely sure it even sounded like English.
The thin man nodded curtly, obviously wondering how someone so incredibly articulate had gotten this position. He slid a folder across the table with all the information. I read through the job description and a grin broke out as I saw my proposed salary. The man sat and patiently collected the documents as I signed them, then stood and had me follow him out the door.
He brought me to an elevator and up to the 69th floor where he deposited me at a giant desk with a tiny secretary perched inside. She motioned me to sit down and chirped into the intercom that I had arrived. A moment later, Mr. King came out to greet me.
He looked the same as I remembered him. A little wiser around the eyes, but the same intense gaze that made my knees feel like jelly. He still had the gaze of an outlaw. No wonder he was so successful as a business man; he commanded a room. He still had the air of danger clinging to him and I felt my insides heat. He shook my hand warmly and guided me into his office. I stood admiring the oversized mahogany furniture and giant glass window as he balanced himself on the edge of his desk.
“You look great, Claire. I'm glad I saw your name come up. This position has been vacant for a while- I have been looking for someone I can work with, someone who will give me what I want.” His eyes traveled up and down, appraising me. My dress suit seemed cheap in comparison to my surroundings. It was just a black pencil skirt with a matching jacket. I had paired it with a pale blue button up short sleeve dress shirt and shoes with just enough heel to look feminine but be able to walk quickly. I had felt professional this morning, but now I just felt nervous.
“I always was good at giving you what you wanted.” I replied before realizing the sexual implications of the sentence. I started blushing as soon as the words left my mouth, the room suddenly feeling warm. Mr. King just smiled and stood, offering me a chair. I quickly took it, glad for some movement.
He began describing the job and what he expected of me. It was going to be demanding work, but it was in my area of expertise. I would work closely with him on a daily basis and keep him apprised of all necessary financial matters. I could see why he would want someone he could work well with given the amount of time we would be spending together to coordinate his current projects. I shook his hand as he welcomed me aboard, his cool hand seeming to calm my nerves at having such an important job ahead of me.
The next week was filled with classes, some in groups, some as an individual. I had to be brought up to speed on the general workings of the company, the ethics policies, and the various computer programs. I took this training in groups with everyone from temporary employees to independent contractors.
For my individual classes, I worked closely with Mr. Jenkins, the tall wiry man from my initial interview. He told me all the things I would be responsible for keeping track of, who would report to me, what I should tell Mr. King and what I shouldn't waste his time with, and so on. Any time I asked a question that I thought was a pretty good question, he looked at me like he couldn't believe that Mr. King had chosen me for this job. He obviously thought I got this job by sleeping my way to the top, but I knew that I was every bit as qualified for this job as Mr. King thought I was.
The next Monday I was as ready as I was going to be. I met Mr. Jenkins, who gave me a daily summary and told me to memorize the key points by the time we got up to Mr. King's office. I did my best, but I knew I would stumble over some of the key points. When we arrived, Mr. King shook Mr. Jenkins' hand, and gave me a quick smile. Mr. Jenkins left, and we got straight down to business.
I was surprised at how quickly he jumped into the fine details of the company, asking questions that I was supposed to track down the answers to, and nodding at the different explanations for why different departments were having different issues. He read from one of the pieces of paper. “The third quarter revenues were ...When did you start hunching?” He interrupted himself as he walked around the desk. I looked up from my notes confused, but realizing that I was indeed hunching over my pen and paper. I shrugged and sat up straight, but within two minutes he caught me hunched over again.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Claire.” I looked at him, startled at his language. I had expected that side of him to be different now that he was a successful business man. The rough biker was still very much a part of him. He just wore Versace now instead of leather.
He angrily opened a desk drawer and fumbled around in it, finally finding a roll of duct tape. My heart skipped as I thought of him taping me to this very chair and having his way with me, like our last night together. I felt a heat surge between my legs. The same thoughts must have gone through his head, because he stopped and held up the tape to explain.
“I can't have my liaison slouching. At all. At any time.” The words left him harshly, as if he were surprised he even had to explain this to her. “I learned this in my earliest days of growing my business, before I was even a millionaire. If you put a line of tape down your back, any time you hunch, the tape will pull on your skin and remind you to keep straight.”
“Sure, I'll give it a shot,” I said.
“Sure? Are we back to being buddies in the diner? This isn't a request.”
I leaned forward, suddenly much less relaxed. “Yes, sir.” I took the tape and tore off a piece before realizing I had no way of putting it on myself. He reached over and took the tape, waiting for me to take off my coat. I hung it on the back of the chair, unsure how to proceed.
“Un-tuck your shirt, and I’ll slide it up your back.” He made it sound like it was the most normal thing in the world. I un-tucked my shirt, as he commanded, and turned my back to him. He pulled my shoulders back into the correct position and then starting sticking the tape up my back. I tried not to squirm as he maneuvered the tape under my bra and up my spine, but I could feel my skin tingling under his touch. His hand brushed my skin and I wanted it to just keep touching me.
He patted the tape firmly onto my back. I could already feel it pulling on the small hairs, keeping me upright. I turned and grinned at him, tucking my shirt back into my skirt. He was so close to me I seriously considered kissing him, wondering if he still tasted the way I remembered. We locked eyes, and for a moment I thought he would this opportunity to kiss me instead. I began to lean in...
A loud beep interrupted us as the secretary outside paged him to let him know his next appointment had arrived. We stood there, shocked out of our moment, the sexual tension still tangible between us. I don't think I imagined any of it, I was sure he wanted me right then. It was like we had stepped back in time to our last night together. He pulled back and scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
“If you are interested, be there at 9pm. You will still have a job either way, so only come if you want to relive old times,” he said, very matter-of-factly. My blood was still pounding into my ears as he strode towards the door and out to the main desk to greet his next appointment. I hastily gathered my things and made what I hoped could pass for an organized departure.
I played with the piece of paper for the rest of the day. I wondered what I was getting myself into, but the memory of that moment when we locked eyes was still lingering within me. My body craved to be satisfied by him again. I stayed late setting my desk up and getting my space organized for work. At 8:30pm I finally decided to go.
***
I showed up to his mansion at 9pm sharp. It reminded me of an old castle from a Dracula movie. Massive wrought iron gates guarded his home. I buzzed the intercom to gain access. The noise of the buzz startled me with its volume, but the gates unlocked and swung open silently and I made my way up the drive. A lone motorcycle sat out in front of the main entrance. I parked near the front door, the yard quiet. Sweat was forming on my back, I could feel it condensing on the duct tape running down my spine. Deep breath and a knock that I hoped sounded confident.
Mr. King opened the door and ushered me into a lavish interior. I marveled in awe at the crystal chandeliers, the heavy wooden furniture, the expensive artwork hanging on the walls. There was classical music playing softly somewhere in the house, but other than that the building was quiet. I didn't see a single servant or housekeeper. He maintained his silence as he guided me up the main stairs and to a small room at the end of one of the halls.
There was nothing in it but a single plastic folding chair in the center of the room with a heavy wooden box behind the chair’s right shoulder, and a couple more wooden trunks in the corner. The room was dark except for the light in the entryway leaking onto the chair. It gave the room a grayed out appearance with the black of the chair looking ominous. I looked around curiously, tilting my head to look into the small room without leaving the light of the entryway. His jacket was tossed carelessly by the door but he still had his tie on.
“This room reminds me of my apartment when I first started out after coming to the city for the business. Please take off your shoes and jacket.” He spoke quietly and deliberately. I slipped off my shoes and folded my business suit jacket neatly on top of them. I stared at the chair, thinking of the amazing things we had done with a similar chair years ago.
“Sit down” he commanded. I instantly moved and sat on the plastic folding chair. He walked around me slowly, appraising what he saw. He loosened his tie, pulling it over his head instead of untying it. It dropped to the floor as he walked, and he stepped on it as he undid his shirt cuffs and collar. I perched on the edge of the chair, my knees pushed together to keep from knocking and my feet pointed up on my toes. I was concentrating on maintaining my posture, the tape pulling at the small hairs on my back, the sweat loosening the edges of the tape. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the sweat.
He pulled out two clothespins from his pocket as he walked in front of me, then set them on the box behind me. They were the cheap kind that my mother used when she dried sheets outside when I was a kid; I wondered what he was going to do with them. He rummaged in one of the boxes in the corner, bringing out some twine, scissors, and what looked like an egg, and he set them down behind me with the clothes pins. I kept looking obediently straight ahead.
“Put your hands behind you, Claire,” he asked, politely but with a tone that made it clear that it was an order. My hands flew back, hooking my elbows around the cheap plastic chair back. I felt a rough twine wrap my wrists and tie them to the bars of the chair as he knelt behind me. I tested the knots, finding that he had left the twine loose enough to rub against my skin but that I couldn’t break free. He leaned in and kissed my neck where the collar to my shirt ended. He stood and caressed the nape of my neck, tickling the small hairs that escaped my ponytail. A shiver ran through me, and he chuckled before grabbing my ponytail and forcing my head back.
I gasped, part with pain and part with pleasure. “You like that? Good.” He kissed my forehead gently and let my hair go. My heart was fluttering in my chest with excitement and a little apprehension. I rubbed my thighs together as I felt invisible strings of lust tightening through my body.
He stood in front of me, the light from the entry silhouetting his figure and shadowing his face from me. He reached out and undid the top button of my shirt, then ripped the remaining buttons open. My breasts heaved in their white bra, exposed as he tucked the two sides of my shirt over my shoulders and ran his hands down my arms. Goosebumps jumped up as he touched my skin, eliciting another deep chuckle.
He knelt down, and tied each ankle to the chair with the rough twine. Again, it was just loose enough for it to rub, but not to escape. His hand glided up my calf, around the inner side of my knee and up my inner thigh. He reached up and grabbed the scissors, and in a series of quick cuts made the demure slit in my skirt reach up my thigh.
I tried not to think of how much I liked this skirt, or how much it would cost to get a new one. I didn’t have much time to contemplate as he flipped my skirt open so I was exposed before him. I was really glad I wore the nice underwear today. He rubbed his finger along the edge of the fabric, right where my left leg joined my body. Anticipation was flooding my veins as he slowly slid a finger across the fabric to the spot right above my clit. He stroked it gently, and I couldn’t help but moan a little, feeling my panties dampen. He smiled and traced his finger down to the wet spot.
“You will not come until I tell you to.” He spoke quietly as he looked deep into my eyes. Again, a polite command. I nodded feverishly, wanting only to please him. He moved smoothly and grabbed something from the box behind me. A soft buzzing noise came from the egg-shaped device in his hand as it vibrated. He put it on my inner thigh, moving the vibrations up my leg and towards my eager sex. He slid it under my panties, right on top of my clit, and left it there.
I felt like my world was pulsing with pleasure as the vibrator shook my poor little clit into a frenzy. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to come, but I was determined to please him, to wait until he gave me permission. I bit my lower lip, trying to think of other things as he smiled and stood up. He walked around me again, observing, smiling at my pleasurable discomfort. He put his hands on the back of the chair, and put his lips against my ear.
“Your posture is improving, Claire.” His breath caressed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine again. I was so proud I was doing what he wanted. He pulled back my collar and touched the duct tape running down my spine. Without warning he ripped it off, the tape pulling all the small hairs down to the middle of my shoulder blades, where my bra stopped him from pulling further.
I yelped with surprise. My skin tingled with pain as the hair roots screamed. I almost came. The pain was the perfect accompaniment to the pleasure in my nether regions- an added sensation to the growing bubble inside me. He brushed his fingers against the reddened skin, the soft touch zinging my nerves. I bit down hard on my lip to keep my orgasm in check, the vibrator merciless against me. He chuckled behind me as I heard wood scrape against the box.
Again he knelt in front of me. My lip hurt from biting it so hard, but I didn’t dare release it. The shadows highlighted a predatory grin as he reached around my torso and skillfully undid the clasp of my bra with one hand. “A trick I learned,” he murmured as he pulled his hand out. With the clasp undone, he pulled the bra down, sliding the straps down to my elbows and releasing my tits.
He reached out and touched the soft curve of one of them, following the underside and up the cleavage. My breath was ragged and harsh, every muscle in my body taught and waiting for him to tell me I could have release. Every fiber in my body screamed with need. He showed me one of the clothes pins, opening and closing it.
“When I put this on your nipple, you are allowed to come once. Only once until I say so. Do you understand?” His voice was like velvet in the gray of the room. I nodded vehemently, eager to please. He slowly pinched the ends together, the tip opening like a hungry mouth, and he grazed the open mouth up the outside of my breast. I held my breath waiting for him to place it as he slowly circled it around my areola. I was losing control of myself as he slowly moved the clothespin, perspiration beading on my brow.
He slowly positioned the hungry maw over my erect nipple. It snapped shut and my bubble of need popped. I screamed in delight as my nipple radiated electric pain through my body triggering an overwhelming orgasm. My insides quivered with bliss as my pussy clenched and vibrated. When I opened my eyes, I could see Mr. King sitting in front of me obviously enjoying the sight. I could feel another tidal wave of pleasure threatening my shores and I bit my lip again. He eyes glowed with lust as he played with the second clothes pin. I watched him with eagerness and a little apprehension as he squeezed and relaxed it in his fingers.
“Remember, you can’t cum this time.” He whispered playfully at me. The wood clenched onto my nipple. I whimpered, the pain shooting and mixing with the pleasure from the vibrator. “Good girl,” he praised me. I practically beamed, my back arching to display my new accessories to him. I could feel the bottom half of the duct tape pull on skin reminding me to keep straight. He dragged a finger across my breast, flicking the clothes pin when he came across it sending a sting through my core. He stood slowly and I could see the erection bulging in his pants.
He undid the leather belt at his waist, undoing the button, then lowering the zipper. He reached in and brought out his erect cock. The light from the entryway reflected off the smooth head, a drop of pre-cum oozing out. I licked my lips with anticipation as he moved forward and straddled my legs. His manhood was an inch away staring up at me as he brought the tip to my lips. I opened my mouth and he dragged the tip across my cheek to my outstretched tongue. A little shudder of pleasure floated through him as I flicked my tongue across the tip, tasting a sweet saltiness.
“You may cum again when I cum. Keep your posture” He guided himself deeper into my mouth. I started sucking, moving my tongue to please him, eager to cum myself. He groaned and grabbed my hair, using both hands to guide his cock in and out of my mouth. I fought my gag reflex as he pushed deep into my throat again and again. His rhythm increased as he began fucking my mouth. The tape on my back resisted my motions, giving tiny twinges as it slowly gave way as I leaned forward.
My whimpers only spurred him on, his cock massive in my mouth. I tried to cry out, but he made no room in my mouth for anything but him. I could feel him swell even more in my mouth, my body protesting the wait to release the tension in me. He forced himself deep into my throat, my hair tangled in his fingers. He thrusted again and again, until he finally released his semen into my mouth.
I nearly gagged as it hit the back of my throat, but upon tasting the salty slippery liquid my body seized. My body rocked with bliss, finally releasing the orgasm that I had been saving for these long minutes. The feeling was intense, but I knew I had to keep working to please Mr. King. I kept sucking and swallowing every ounce out of him. He kept fucking my mouth as I milked the rest of his seed from him. It wasn’t long before he grew soft and pulled out, leaving a line of white down my chin.
He reached out and wiped my chin with his thumb. His hand caressed my neck and down to cup my breast. He undid one pin, relief flooding my body to the point of pain. He rubbed his thumb across my abused nipple. I squeaked as he slowly rubbed it, sensation threatening to overwhelm me. He reached down and removed the vibrator. My clit ached from the prolonged exposure to the vibrations. I barely felt his fingers run across my underwear as he soothingly touched me.
He picked up the scissors and cut the twine releasing my ankles and then my wrists. I brought my hands in front of me, massaging the red lines like bracelets around my wrists. I had struggled into my bonds without realizing it; there would be bruises later. He undid the second clothes pin, the shock causing me to whimper. He put a hand to my cheek for a moment, before standing and letting me catch my breath. My body was throbbing with pain and the aftermath of pleasure, my mind lost on endorphins. He kissed me gently on my forehead before moving towards the window.
I sat for a moment collecting myself. I reached around and re-clasped my bra, and tried to pull my shirt together to cover my front. I looked down at my skirt wondering if I could mend the slice his scissor had made. I had a feeling I couldn’t, but a few clothes were a fair price to pay for this mind blowing experience. I stood on shaky legs and gathered my coat and slid on my shoes. I stood by the door for a moment, unsure if I should leave.
“Have a good evening Miss Vanders. Drive home safely.” He was just a dark silhouette as I opened the door, his back to me as he looked out the window. He radiated an emotion that I couldn’t place- a strange combination of contentment and heartache. I quietly closed the door behind me and returned to my car. I managed to make it to my couch before collapsing from exhaustion and launching into amazing sexy dreams.
***
I arrived the next day to find a box on my desk. Inside was a brand new designer dress suit. I knew it would fit perfectly. I smiled and held the jacket up admiring the color and stitching. It was beautiful and I knew it must have cost about two months of my salary. I suddenly wasn’t mad about my skirt being ruined anymore. I noticed a note tied to the box in Mr. Kings messy scrawl.
Claire,
It was great to see you last night. I hope you had as wonderful a time as I did. It was just like old times. If you are interested, I would love to have you for dinner at my place tonight. 7pm.
-GK
I tucked the box under my desk and started in on my work.
***
As Mr. Jenkins and I walked into Mr. King’s office to give him his daily briefing, I hoped that Mr. Jenkins wouldn’t sense that anything was different with Mr. King and I. After all, he probably already believed I slept my way into this position, and anything that vindicated that thought could possibly work against me in the future. I needn’t have worried.
As we walked through the double doors, Mr. King was talking on the phone. As part of my training, Mr. Jenkins has made sure to let me know that if Mr. King was attending to other business, I was to wait. Mr. Jenkins left me in the room with him, to wait for him to be ready for me. I looked him over. He was as strong and confident as ever as he let the party on the other end of the phone know in no uncertain terms that this was his company, and that if he wanted to keep arguing the point, he could start his own company. My thoughts couldn’t help but flash to the night before, and how it had been his show then too. He hung up angrily.
“Hello, Mr. King,” I said, eager to get to my report. I had spent all morning working on it, putting extra emphasis on a department that had a time-sensitive matter that needed Mr. King’s attention.
Mr. King wasted no time. “What can you tell me about the antivirus department’s development on our efforts to become compatible with the latest mobile phone operating system?”
“Um, uh,” I stammered, searching through my notes. “I know I have something in here about them in my daily report, if you’d like me to start from the beginning.”
“No, Ms. Vanders, I want the information about them now. Are they up to speed or aren’t they?” Mr. King insisted, obviously growing impatient.
“Here, I’ve got something. ‘The antivirus department reports that they are working towards full compatibility with the new operating system.’”
There was a pause. “And...?” he asked.
I started to sweat as I shuffled through my papers. “That’s all I seem to have on them,” I said frantically.
“Well what the fuck do I pay you for then? I expect you to be intimately aware of many of the details of this company, not just regurgitate press releases. If I was happy with what you just told me, I could have got it from the asshole I just talked to.”
His anger was palpable, and I was starting to get pretty angry myself. Just who did he think he was, talking to me like that. He’s your boss, the voice inside me said, and I resigned myself to just taking the tongue lashing. I looked at him, unsure of what to say next. He finally broke eye contact with me and seemed to get angrier.
“Why are you hunching again?” he said, as if he could hardly believe his eyes. I sat up with a jolt, almost as if he had torn that piece of duct tape off my back again. He pulled off his shoes, and I was worried for a moment that he was going to ask me to do the same, to punish me right here in his office. Instead, he pulled a pair of tennis shoes from a desk drawer. He put them on, unbuttoned a couple buttons on his dress shirt, and jumped on his treadmill.
“I want you back up here at three o’clock, this time with a more detailed report. Don’t disappoint me again, and don’t hunch when you come up here. Do whatever it takes, and hopefully I’ll have cooled off by then,” he said, as he cranked the treadmill up to a full running speed.
I left his office in a hurry, mad at myself for disappointing Mr. King and disgusted at myself for being so sexually turned on by his dressing down. I was no longer sure I’d show up at his house for dinner as he requested, but I had a couple hours to decide.
***
I worked through lunch to make the report he requested, hounding Mr. Cirrus, the department head who was already mad at being yelled at by the boss. I talked with some of his managers and even some of the software production employees, and they walked me through it and explained some of it. From what little I understood of it, they were making good progress, and the department head had nothing to worry about, they would hit their deadline. One manager, Mr. Thayer, even offered to send me weekly progress reports personally, a courtesy that would make my job even easier. I thanked him and went to write up my report.
As I walked into Mr. King’s office for the second time that day, I was much more confident in my ability to impress him outside of the bedroom. Fuck him and fuck his dinner. I could do this job and I needed to prove it to myself and to him.
He was much calmer than he had been earlier as I made it to his desk. He saw the report in my hand as I walked up, and with no small talk held his hand out to accept it from me. He read it in silence, asking no questions. I managed to keep my posture correct through voluntarily reminding myself that it would set him off if I slouched for even a moment. I could see him making mental notes as he read. Suddenly, he hit his intercom button.
“Send Mr. Cirrus and Mr. Thayer up to my office, please.”
They continued to sit in silence as they waited for the two men to be summoned. Mr. Thayer was there almost immediately and sat down quietly. However, Mr. King had already read through the report and had started looking up a couple of things before Mr. Cirrus showed up. I watched as the scene unfolded in front of me, an observer to the real management of this company.
“Mr. Cirrus, Mr. Thayer here has offered me more operational details in an afternoon than you have offered me through the length of the project. Why is that?” Mr. King started off, seeming pretty calm.
Mr. Cirrus seemed taken off guard. “I’ve given you summaries every week, sir!”
Mr. King snickered. “Your one sentence blurbs are no longer going to cut it around here.” He paused. “Mr. Cirrus, Mr. Thayer, you’re both aware of how important it is we meet this deadline, correct?” Both men answered with an affirmative. “Then you’ll understand that I can’t afford a shakeup in your department right now. Mr. Cirrus, at the conclusion of this project, your role will turn into more of an advisory one. You will be teaching Mr. Thayer the ins and outs of your current job, and once he’s ready, I’ll be transferring you to a position in R&D.”
Mr. Cirrus sat there, with his mouth agape. “R&D? A demotion? Are you serious? After my department has hit all of its goals?”
Mr. King shot a glare back at him. “Yes, Mr. Cirrus, a demotion. You’ve disappointed me, even failed me, but you’re too valuable to fire. A few months in R&D will remind me why I hired you, and remind you of...”
Mr. Cirrus cut him off. “You don’t have to worry about giving me a job to cool my heels while I’m pushed into early retirement. I quit!” he yelled as he stood up and knocked his chair over. He gave a piercing glare at me, as if this was all my fault, before storming out of the room.
Mr. Thayer was clearly in shock from what had just happened. He was about to be promoted up about three levels and just watched his boss’ boss storm out in a huff.
Mr. King turned to him. “I know this is sudden for you, but I can’t have you take over the whole department immediately. The deadline is the most important thing right now, and so I’ll be bringing in an experienced executive to take over until it’s done. You’ll answer directly to him, and he’ll train you in how to run the entire department. You’ll still be expected to run your current team while doing all this, so there will be some long hours. I’ll be giving you the executive pay package effective today, and you can move into Mr. Cirrus’ office tomorrow.”
Mr. Thayer seemed overjoyed. “Thank you so much, sir! You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Mr. King smiled, the first genuine smile I had seen all day. “You’ve got a lot of work to do, so I won’t keep you. Just know that I’m expecting a lot of you, and that I hope you won’t disappoint me.” There was a bit of a steely edge in his voice as he spoke the last words, as if there was an implied “like Mr. Cirrus did” at the end of the sentence. Mr. Thayer excitedly picked up the chair that Cirrus had knocked over and quickly walked from the office.
Mr. King turned his attention to me. “You’ve managed to keep from disappointing me too, and I am quite pleased with this report. You may have changed the course of this company for the better, and I am already glad I hired you. I’ll see you tonight.” He turned back to his computer, not waiting for any response. As I walked out, I was happy to have pleased Mr. King, and decided I would go to dinner that night, if only to get the opportunity to please him again in a more personal way.
***
Dinner was delicious. Roasted tarragon chicken, chili green beans and with a risotto that would make a chef cry tears of joy. A dry white wine accented the dish perfectly. Then a sweet dessert wine and tiramisu for dessert. The conversation was as good as I remembered it from our summer together. He still had that irritating ability to find any hole in my logic and exploit it mercilessly. It made for a fantastic back and forth as we debated the merits of everything from football to politics. I managed to get him to laugh several times throughout the meal and every time it made my heart beat faster. When he smiled like that it was contagious, and incredibly sexy.
We sipped on the last of the wine in his study. He wanted to show me a project he was working on. He had me sit at his desk so that I could see the computer screen as he typed. I watched with interest as the next big thing in programming opened before my very eyes. With him hovering over my shoulder to point out what he was planning on doing, I couldn’t concentrate on the screen. I breathed in his cologne, a smell that reminded me of rushing water in a deep woods, and leaned back into his chest. He kept talking, the rumble in his chest soothing and intoxicating as the wine. His hand strayed to my leg, and I leaned into him. He nuzzled my neck and I knew neither one of us cared about the computer anymore. He helped me up and we quickly moved to the bedroom.
A big four-post monstrosity of a bed dominated the room. The door clicked quietly shut behind me and the room seemed to quiver with excitement. I walked obediently to the foot of the bed, turned around and waited for him to tell me what he wanted. He stood looking at me for a moment, a tender smile gracing his face. I had missed him.
“Take off your dress and bra. Then give me your hands.”
I sexily slid out of my black dress, the silky fabric falling to the floor. I made sure he got a show as I wiggled out of the bra. He didn’t say anything about my heels or lacy panties, so I left them in place presenting my hands out in front of me. He sauntered towards me, his eyes like storm clouds of lust. He had a long satin scarf in his hands that he wrapped skillfully around my wrists. The cool fabric felt soft against the bruises from the twine, a gentle caress of black satin.
He raised my hands above my head and tied the scarf ends to the top of one of the bedposts. He ran his fingers down my arms, down my cleavage, along the curve of my hip, and then along the top of my underwear. His touch was like fire, burning into my skin and turning my insides into an inferno of desire. He kissed me then. It started sweet, but became more powerful as our tongues merged. I bit his lower lip, keeping his mouth close to mine. His hands were strong on my shoulders, his body pushing mine into the bedpost.
I could feel his erection pushing against my hip, straining to escape its cloth confines. I rubbed my hips towards him, dancing along his body. He groaned into my mouth before pulling back and stepping to the nightstand. I could only hear him open a drawer and pull something out.
He came back into my line of sight with a bamboo skewer, like one a person would use to make shish-kabobs. He had a devilish gleam in his eyes as he loomed in front of me. He ran the small wooden stick down my arm. It felt sharp, but didn’t even leave a mark on my skin. A twinge passed through my stomach in excitement at the possibilities. He reached behind him, pulling a second scarf from his back pocket. With a mischievous grin he tied the silky black fabric across my eyes.
Darkness enveloped me, as I heard him chuckle. He kissed my neck, down to my collar bone, and gave a small kiss to the middle of my cleavage. A sharp line flared down my cleavage line. I gasped and puffed my chest out towards him, liking the razor-sharp sensation. He kissed a nipple, making it stand to attention. The pink nub went into his mouth, and then he blew a breath of warm air on it. I shivered and suddenly felt the tip of the skewer pointing into the upraised flesh. I knew that the stick was not sharp enough to hurt me, but it still felt as though he were pushing it through my skin. I whimpered and he pulled back, running it along the curve of my breast. He repeated the piercing sensation again, waiting until I whimpered to stop the pressure.
He backed away from me and I heard a rustling noise that could only be the sound of him removing his shirt. I could feel his warmth radiating next to me as I heard a click as the skewer hit the floor and I wondered what was coming next. A hand caressed my hip, tracing the outline of my panties. A single finger grabbed the waistband and slowly pulled them down.
I stood still as they lay around my feet, not trusting my balance in heels to remove them further. An appreciative chuckle filled my ears as he looked me over, blindfolded with my hands held high and naked but for a strappy pair of heels. I groaned as he tenderly touched my pussy lips, a light touch that made my juices flow. He fondled my lips, slowly opening me like a flower and finding my sweet clit. He pinched it between his fingers and grabbed my ass.
“Come for me. Come like a good girl” he whispered in my ear as he rubbed my clit between his fingers. I panted as my body ached to fill his command. A second hand reached up and began playing with my nipple, the dual sensations threatening to tip me over the edge. He kept chanting for me to come, and in a matter of moments my body tensed and released, a flood of color surging though my blindfold. As I swam in eddies of delight I could feel him back away and remove the rest of his clothing. Part of me was disappointed that I had a blindfold on and missed the show, but the thrill of not knowing what was coming next was worth it.
I felt his cock on my slit, lightly running up and down my opening, the only thing touching me. I leaned forward, but he stood his ground, keeping the only connection between us the tip of his cock. I moaned as my juices leaked onto his member and he slowly leaned into me, pushing on the entrance to my pussy.
I wanted to feel him in me, and I tried to move my hips to take him in, but he blocked every attempt and just kept himself on the edge. I could feel my lust and desire building inside of me, and I seriously considered begging him to fuck me. The words were forming on my lips when, suddenly he thrusted up, and railed his cock deep into my pussy.
I wasn’t expecting anything like that and I yelped, fighting my restraints. He grabbed my hips and penetrated me, pinning me to the bedpost as he took exactly what he wanted. He grunted with the effort as he slammed his massive cock deep into my tight pussy. I wrapped one leg around him, his skin hot against my leg as he dove deeper and deeper. I wished my hands were free to bury into his back, but I loved having them up in the air. I was helpless to his desire and I loved it. His mouth found my shoulder and he bit down, a surge of endorphins flooding my skin. My cries only spurred him on, my calf feeling his ass contract with each thrust upward.
He ripped off the blindfold, the light of the room momentarily blinding me, as he pulled out and stepped back. There was a delicious sheen of sweat on his brow, and his cock glistened with my wetness.
“Get on the bed” he growled. I put a knee up on the bed and crawled up, managing to be semi-graceful despite the lack of my hands. He stalked around and jumped on the bed, grabbing my hips and positioning me into a modified doggy style. My hands held the banister close to where they were tied, my ass pointing back into the bed where he was waiting. His fingers dug deep into my hips, grabbing my hip bones and he again began thrusting. I arched my back thrusting my ass up to meet him.
A sizzling hand print found my ass with a loud smack as he continued to rail into me. Another spank followed behind, a satisfying slap sound filling the air. I wanted every inch of him. I pushed my ass back into his abs with his every thrust, his balls bouncing on my ass. Our skin met with a carnal slap with every plunge, the sound filling the room and mixing with our cries of passion.
His thrusting was growing erratic and stronger; I knew it wouldn’t be long now. I felt him swell within me and then with a guttural roar, spray his hot seed deep into my loins. Hot cum seared into my pussy, filling me with white. He kept ramming his cock into my backside, his cum leaking out and making it slippery. He fucked me until he could fuck no more, and when he pulled out, I moaned with release, feeling empty and full at the same time.
He slapped my ass again, my ass-cheeks red with handprints from the previous spanks. I held still waiting for him to release me. Instead, he stood up and walked to the dresser, opening a drawer. He pulled out a delicate pearl necklace. He carefully undid the clasp and placed it around my neck, reaching around and closing it on me. He then reached up and undid the scarf holding me in place, my hands going to my throat once they freed themselves of their satiny bounds.
It was a strand of iridescent black pearls that just hovered above my collarbone. They were all perfect matches of each other, and so dark they seemed purple in the gleam of the light. I had never seen anything like it; it was simple yet absolutely stunning. He had a sheepish grin on his face as he watched me play with it.
“You like it?”
“Love it.” I beamed at him.
His smile lit up the room. He looked like a proud child, happy to have pleased.
“Do you promise to keep it?” His brow crinkled a little at the thought that I might return it. I couldn’t dash the hope in those eyes. Besides, I knew whatever it cost he could afford it. I promised and he practically danced around the room. His happiness made me laugh as he did a happy dance.
He clicked the light-switch off and tackled me back into the bed, his grin contagious even in the dark. He deftly maneuvered me into the nook of his arm as he settled back onto the pillows. I played with the pearls, wondering why he had made me promise to keep it. He whispered into my hair as we snuggled down for the night. I felt safe and warm. I felt sleep tugging me with its sweet embrace, and I let it take me as I relaxed into his strong arms.
***
$6,000. That’s what a strand of similar pearls was going for on Ebay. My hand trembled as I stroked the beautiful beads. I almost took them off, feeling like something worth that much should not be gracing the neck of someone with $127.65 in their bank account. I was afraid I would somehow lose them, that they could magically fly off my neck the minute someone found out how much they were worth. I took a deep breath in, finding that it really didn’t help soothe me as much as I had hoped. So, with a shaky hand I collected my papers and went into my first meeting of the day knowing that I had a small bank on my throat.
As I walked into the boardroom, Mr. King caught my eye and grinned at me. He touched his neck and winked, making the gesture look random, but knowing that I would see he was glad I was wearing his gift. I shook my head and took a set my supplies down at an empty seat. The meeting hadn’t started yet, and only three of the five board members were present. Two older men stood by a coffee pot discussing a round of golf, while a stylish woman sat at the table glaring at her laptop.
My fingers shook as I shuffled my papers and tried to look calm. I was just being introduced to the board. I didn’t have to present anything yet or answer any questions, but the pit in my stomach apparently thought I was. The woman at the computer glared at me, waves of disdain radiating off her. I wondered what had her in such a mood.
The last two members shuffled in, deep in conversation that stopped as soon as they sat. Mr. King introduced me and the meeting began. The meeting didn’t pertain to me, so I began looking over the financial reports for the quarter. Something about the numbers felt off and I buried my nose into the laptop, trying to catch the scent of what bothered me.
The room was suddenly quiet. I looked up realizing that almost everyone had left. The angry woman slammed her laptop into a case and stalked out, silent fury dripping from her every pore. I looked after her for a moment, the funny numbers in my laptop forgotten. Mr. King shook his head at her as the door slammed behind her. He sat on the table next to my computer so he could look at me.
“What’s her problem?” I asked him as I stared at the closed door.
“No idea. Dinner tonight?” He managed to keep an innocent face.
I did my best impression of coy, as I slowly closed my laptop and pretended to think about it. He laughed at my pitiable attempt and ran a finger across my pearls. I shivered with anticipation.
“They look good on you.”He paused, obviously deciding if he should say more. My curiosity piqued at why he had chosen these pearls, and I resolved to ask him at dinner.
“Dinner’s at 7 sharp. I’ll give you a ride.” He winked and hopped of the table.
“Oh, and I was planning something special for dessert...” He let the sentence drift as he strolled out the door. I bit my lip and started counting down until dinner.