Torn Between- Seduced by the Billionaires

by Emma Rose

  “This is Mistress Rebecca. How can you serve me?”

  “I need help,” the young woman stammered, spilling as much of her story as she could before the tears overwhelmed her.

  “I’m on my way,” the Dominatrix said tersely. Unlocking the rolodex she kept in a safe under her desk, she found exactly the right number to call.

  “Yes, Mistress,” the man on the phone said with a deference in his voice that always warmed Rebecca’s heart.

  “Tyler, I have a problem, and I think you can help me,” she said as she grabbed her Metro card for a trip to Grafton.

  “Yes, Mistress,” Tyler Bach responded, barely masking his excitement. “I would love to serve you in this matter.”

  ***

  Dr. Sovich played with the ruby red fob on his wine glass as he pondered everything leading to this meeting. He thought Tyler’s offer and a lab job in the sleepy suburban community above DC would give him peace. Now, he was in a more precarious situation than he ever faced in Russia and the stakes seemed so much higher.

  “He’s there, if you want to go down now,” Steve advised, holding up the bottle of Moscato to see if the doctor needed a refill before he descended to the lower bar. He found it odd the big man would drink such a girly wine, but there were a lot of odd things about Andrew Sovich.

  “He can wait for me,” Sovich grumbled, spinning the fob in fast circles. “I hate that bar down there. So loud and disguising.”

  “Disguising or disgusting?” Steve asked. He was never very sure of the Russian man’s language choices, although he agreed with either sentiment. A veteran bar owner, Steve thought the fetish bar under The Wine Loft would double the income, but the opposite was happening. Harold’s accounting showed The Wine Loft was thriving, but The Spreader Bar was bleeding green, eating The Wine Loft’s profits, and offending its customers. He asked Harold if they could suggest Eddie close the lower bar, which had become nothing more than Eddie’s play space and second home, as a wedding gift for their upcoming wedding ceremony. Harold balked at the idea.

  “Both,” Sovich affirmed. He gently placed the wine glass on the bar and rose from his seat. It took almost a full minute for him to unfold himself to full height. He reached down and ran his finger across the red fob one more time.

  “Harold’s with Miss Snow. He doesn’t seem like much, but I’ve been his partner a long time and I can promise you—he is stronger than he looks. He’d fight to the death for Maralee.”

  “No one will die tonight,” Dr. Sovich mumbled with a heavy undertone revealing he was sorry death wasn’t visiting at least one citizen of Grafton on this night.

  Thudding down the steps one-by-one, his presence would have stopped any other room and instantly become the center of attention and dread. However, the riffing guitars screeching through the speakers, flash lighting shattering the visual plane, and inherent narcissism of the few regulars gathered at a table in the middle of the room created such a vacuum that no one noticed the tall, blond scientist stomping to Eddie’s office.

  “Your bar is failing,” Sovich pronounced as he walked into the bright light of Eddie’s enclave and closed the door behind him. “You should stick with your research company. At least that has some dignity.”

  “One man’s failing is another man’s design,” Eddie retorted, leaning back in his chair and motioning for the doctor to have a seat. “I like the bar just the way it is—dark and sheltering. It’s a comfort zone for the players of the night.”

  “The music is too loud,” Sovich complained.

  “It has to be to drown out the spankings. We can’t have the nice citizens of the upper realm disturbed by the reality of the hot, sweaty leather lust down below, can we? Speaking of spankings.” Eddie pulled two medical folders out of his drawer and threw them on the table. “Someone is about to get one.”

  Sovich smiled so broadly Eddie was momentarily blinded by the light reflecting off the scientist’s teeth. He rolled up the sleeves of his button down shirt to reveal beefy, well-toned arms. “I am ready if you are.”

  “You’ve been feeding me a pile of shit.” Eddie pointed at the folders on his desk. “You told me the cure was dead. It doesn’t work and you’re quitting the project. But you must be telling Ty Ty another story because he’s still pumping funds into the project like he’s found a vein of gold.”

  “I told you what is true. The formula is not workable. It cannot be used for colds,” Sovich framed every word purposefully. “Tyler is a fool in love with glory. He wants it to work and he thinks with enough money he can buy the success. But I have told him it is a waste.”

  “I’d like to believe you, Andrew. I am definitely on board with the ‘Tyler is a fool’ concept. But, here’s the problem. I decided to check up on you and threw some of my own money away to do it. What I found was this.” Dramatically, Eddie slapped his hand down on the folder stolen from Tyler’s office.

  “So what?”

  “It isn’t helping me trust you, Andrew. It isn’t helping me make sure our deal is still intact. It isn’t keeping your little love witch any safer at night.”

  Dr. Sovich had been trying to play it tough, but the slur against Maralee, coupled with a threat, made him wince and caused the veins in his neck to bulge as his teeth began to grind together. “Why is it not helping you, Eddie?”

  “Because I can’t fucking read Russian!” Eddie pushed open the folder to reveal nothing but a pile of meaningless charts and handwritten notes in Cyrillic.

  “You have access to translators,” Sovich chuckled, in spite of himself.

  “And they don’t read CODE, Andrew!”

  “Well, that is too bad. If had I had known you were going to steal the file from Tyler I would have written it in huge English letters with very small words.”

  Furious, Eddie stood up behind his desk, causing the Russian to stand as well. Ignoring their obvious size difference, Eddie pounded on the desk for emphasis.

  “This is not a joke! My company is on the bubble; my board is reacting to rumors about the cure and plans to blame ME if it succeeds. I’m a public company, you arrogant asshole. I could lose everything. We had a deal. I keep your little whore safe and you tell me what I need to know. If that cure goes through, I will lose my company and no one’s life is safe!”

  Before he could take another breath, Eddie felt himself rising in the air. Sovich had him by the shirt, his strong arms lifting Eddie several inches off the floor before pulling him over the desk. Files and paperwork plummeted to the ground as Eddie’s body slid across the desktop. The doctor lifted him higher, bending his back just far enough to hurt but not break. He pulled Eddie close to his red, pulsing, sweating face so the spit from his angry words would land all over the executive.

  “Do not ever call my Maralee a WHORE. She is a daughter to me. Do you think I care about your company? Do you think I give a damn about your board or your billions or the size of your dick? You want to hurt me, go ahead and try. You think the Russian mob will help you? Ha! They think more of my spit than they would your entire empire. You think you can threaten my loved ones? I will grind you into a paste and wipe you on Tyler’s ass. The cure does not work. It does not work for Tyler’s money. It does not work for your ego. It. Does. Not. Work.”

  Sovich lifted Eddie a few inches higher then tossed him like a duffle bag onto the floor behind his desk. He turned his body as if in a military regiment and walked out of Eddie’s office, leaving the door wide open in case anyone from the loud outer dungeon cared to see their boss sprawled and shaking behind his desk. They didn’t.

  In time, Eddie managed to pull himself off the floor and climb back into his chair. As he methodically began to pick up the papers, silently reassembling both folders, Dr. Sovich drove down the mountain to Maralee’s house. He pulled into the Super Save parking lot for a moment and dialed Tyler’s private cell. He knew Tyler would be alone because Cami and Harold were with his beloved spirit daughter.

  “Eddie has the file
,” Andrew said.

  “Good,” Tyler replied, desperate to control his voice as much as possible. “So, it was Jasmine all along.”

  “Da. Your setup worked perfectly. Now, what about the girl?”

  “Leave her. I have a plan.” Tyler hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye and lifted it up in the air, dropping his head back down. “Thank you, Mistress, for allowing me to answer the phone.”

  Rebecca took the phone and placed it on the table where Tyler’s clothes were neatly folded. She pushed the back of his head down with her crop, guiding his tongue back to her boots, only one of which had been cleaned properly.

  “Continue,” she instructed.

  ***

  A line of electric fire shot through his leg, the residual effect making its way to his cock. This was the fourth lash from the riding crop Mistress Rebecca placed on his naked upper thigh. Tyler closed his eyes, gripping the bed frame to which his hands were cuffed.

  “You’ve been naughty, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “You didn’t do what I told you, did you?”

  “No, Mistress.”

  “And now you must pay,” Mistress Rebecca drew the sentence out with long vowels and a hiss on the “s” as she spoke. Tyler was still a new client so his payment was a mere five lashes with the crop. In time, she planned to build him up to twenty, but for now the poor little rich man was already crying and shaking in his bindings.

  “Yes, Mistress.” Tyler gasped, his body pulled and stretched to its tightest on the bed, bound hands and feet pulling him into a most uncomfortable spread eagle, his erect cock resembling a tent pole.

  Running the crop up and down his legs, watching as the four red welts rose in distinct lines on the flesh, she smiled. His pain was so honest, so real. Having grown up on the outskirts of DC her whole life, Rebecca knew her love for honesty would be sorely challenged in the political town and found this the best way to indulge it.

  “You want to be punished, don’t you Tyler? For all the things you have done?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he answered, thinking of his many schemes and plans over the years.

  “Or is it all the things you left undone?”

  Tyler’s mind took over for a moment. Images flashed in his head like old-fashioned light bulbs, each one exploding once it was shown: Rachel walking out the door of their marriage when he didn’t say stop, contracts going to other firms when he wasn’t bold enough to risk a lot, Cami becoming more distant by the day because he wasn’t strong enough to hold her, the cure not working and his hiding it from the Board of Directors of Dyes instead of admitting the truth months ago.

  THWACK!!!!

  Tyler screamed as the crop landed across his stomach causing him to pull forward until the strengths of the cuffs stopped him at a fourth of a curl.

  “Answer your Mistress!” Rebecca demanded. She knew he was getting tired and the session was nearly over, but she wasn’t going to let his mind wander to “her” (whoever she might be) when he was strapped down for a lesson.

  “Yes, Mistress, yes!” Tyler cried out. “The things I’ve left undone. So many things.”

  Rebecca pulled her arm back to an exaggerated extreme. Tyler closed his eyes and bit his lip in preparation for the final cutting blow. When she was sure he couldn’t see, she lowered her arm to about a foot away from the exposed thigh and gave it a quick smack; not nearly the stroke he imagined. Tyler pulled and howled as though the world was ending. She smiled and let him enjoy the moment.

  Unbuckling the leather cuffs, but leaving them around his wrists and ankles if need be, she sat on top of his blistered thighs, her naked bottom rubbing sweat and pain into them. She put both of her hands on his chest, rubbing and encouraging his gratitude.

  “Thank your Mistress,” she said seductively, rolling over on her back to allow him access to her private parts. The billionaire got on his knees between her legs, knelt down, and took her nether lips in his mouth, first lapping the outer flesh, then diving his tongue deep inside her.

  “Thank you, Mistress, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered on her shaved vulva, his breath blowing across her triangle, making the whole area tingle with desire. Pulling him by the hair, she guided his tongue to her clitoral hood. He licked and lapped at her as she surged beneath him. His passion for his duty evident as he lifted his nose just fast enough to breathe and plunged his face back in her pussy, determined to shower her with pleasure.

  Lazily enjoying his velvet tongue luxuriating her clit she reached over and grabbed the crop, rubbing the leather end piece in small circles on his back.

  “You know, Tyler, I’ve really gone out of my way punishing you today. I used my time and talent to train you in the way you should be and punish you for what you lack. It’s hard work, you know, punishing grown men.”

  Tyler nodded, not sure if he was supposed to answer. Mistress Rebecca had a gift for keeping him right on the edge of fear and desire.

  “I put myself at risk handling this crop just right for you,” she continued, her own passion building with the unrelenting wet pressure of his tongue. “I could have broken a nail. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  “No, Mistress,” Tyler responded earnestly. He had been whipped with a leather strap at the last appointment because his glass left a ring on her tabletop that he did not immediately dry up with his tongue. He couldn’t imagine the penalty he might pay for a broken nail, but his penis stiffened further at the thought of it.

  “Then I deserve quite the reward, don’t you agree?” Rebecca put the crop under his chin to see him nodding enthusiastically, her fluids dripping off his chin. Guiding his body on top of her she opened her legs wider, inviting his entry. “Then reward me. Slowly and deeply.”

  A rush of pleasure and emotion filled Tyler as he inserted his cock into the wet cavern of his mistress. His own passion had been pushed as far as he thought it could go and he knew that he would not be allowed to release without her permission. Still, denying her request would only prolong his agony. He pushed into her, feeling her body fold around him. His first thrusts were tentative pushes into her mystery.

  “Yes, that’s it,” she hissed seductively. “Control. Learn control. Don’t speed up, don’t rush it, and don’t you dare cum.”

  He gripped the bed sheet with white knuckles as he moved inside her, trying to time his motion like the piston of a car, but inevitably he would speed up, causing her to snarl disapproval. His cock was so full and ready every push into her body threatened to be the last. Walking the high wire of his tension, his entire body cramped and struggled as she lay beneath him soaking up every luscious thrust. Finally, she decided he should suffer no more.

  “Don’t move one muscle,” she directed as she felt his cock jump within her. Even her voice made it pulse at this point. Feeling her own muscles tensed and ready, she started to move her hips on his cock, the groans he emitted struggling to stay still encouraging her climax. She threw herself up and down on his cock, the speed comforting after the slow build.

  “Beg me,” she gasped, using what little control she had left.

  “Please, Mistress, please,” Tyler begged through gritted teeth, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, his whole being ready to explode. “Please let me cum, please, please, please, please.”

  She continued rubbing and pushing herself on him feeling them both cross the bridge of possibility together. Finally—pulling, thrusting, gasping—she managed one more word.

  “Now.”

  They moaned their release together, convulsing and gripping each other as if weathering a tornado. Momentarily suspended by their climax, they hung there in mid-air as if time itself stopped, and then settled on the bed, taking deep, sustaining breaths. Minutes passed without a sound until Tyler’s soft, low tones cut through the stillness.

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Good boy,” Rebecca smiled. She owed him no other response, but in her head she th
ought, You’re so very welcome.

  The hour ended. She went to her private room to clean up and left him alone to wipe and dress himself. Returning with her appointment book, she said she could squeeze him in on the next Friday afternoon. But, she had an evening commitment so he needed to be on time. He agreed and was nearly out the door when she spoke.

  “The other matter?” she asked, still in charge, no matter what the topic.

  “I’m on it, Mistress. It won’t be much longer,” he said, with a confidence she found relentlessly appealing.

  ***

  The screeching printer jolted Jasmine from her perch behind the counter. Once the morning rush was done, the afternoon lull at Coffee Carol gave her time to think, read, daydream, or count her money. Looking at her bank website from the next generation tablet purchased with her ill-gotten funds, she realized her account was low again.

  “I need to get me one of those saving accounts,” she said, remembering something her mother tried to teach her once. She looked at the order and regarded it as nothing less than an answer to prayer. Cami Hill was ordering three coffees and the orders were not to go. Jasmine jumped into gear writing on the three cups as she prepared them: Miss Hill, Mr. B., Dr. S. She didn’t know what they planned to talk about, but a phone call to Eddie Dunning was everything her overdraft protection required.

  “Tell me again why we are meeting here,” Cami said as she tried to settle her ample behind in the rickety café chair.

  “Tyler thinks there is a spy in his office so he is torturing us until he finds out who it is,” Dr. Sovich answered, also struggling with the small chairs.

  “Someone up there is blathering to Eddie, I know it,” Tyler added, ignoring the doctor’s attempted humor. “This is the safest place for now.”

  “Well, it isn’t Kendra. She’s on Grandma leave,” Cami added. She felt selfish, but for the last few days since the newborn baby arrived, his blood work announcing to the world he was not Tyler Bach’s grandson, Cami was giddy. “Maybe Susan in accounting? Eddie does have a way with the ladies.”