"True, your talents are being wasted in your current position."
I was nervous, not only was I meeting someone I idolized professionally, but I also found Drake incredibly attractive. I'm not ashamed to admit that after long days of researching him I had occasionally let my libido take charge after dark.
"You stated that to succeed in the world of business a person had to make moral sacrifices, and that the ends justified whatever means were required. Do you truly believe that?" His gaze never wavered as he spoke.
"Yes I do," I replied, "The corporations of today are on the scale of ancient empires, and all empires were built aggressively. Any short term damage done is overshadowed by the growth and prosperity that rises in its wake."
"I've studied you very carefully," He said, turning to the full-length window, "You're a fascinating, intelligent and very attractive young woman."
The attractive part struck me. Was this about sex? I didn't mind because truth be told, I'm a power groupie. For me Peter Drake was pretty much Jagger, Bowie and Morrison rolled into one.
"Thank you Mr. Drake,"
"Please, call me Peter. Rebecca are you uncomfortable about my mentioning how attractive you are?"
"No, not really," God, was he psychic or was I just too easy to read? "But I'd assume a man like you has his choice of hundreds of eager women."
"Yes, that's true, many women approach me offering sex or sex dressed up as love. Of course they all want something in return. They are willing, but have very clear boundaries. And where's the fun in that? It's only challenging when a woman doesn't know how far she's willing to go and is ready to test her limits."
If he wanted to shock me, it wasn't working. The more he spoke of limits, the more fascinated I became.
"Rebecca I've mentored many young women who have gone on to great careers. But to do that I must ensure that they share my passion and willingness. Once they prove that to me, I know they can succeed in the business arena." He turned and approached me again, his face inches from mine. "Do you want to succeed?"
"Yes I do," I replied with absolute certainty. He was so close I could have kissed him, but I suspected that would be too simple. The tension was palatable on both our parts. He leaned forward.
"I want you to take your panties off," He whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.
It may surprise some, but I barely hesitated. I was enthralled. Of course I was still human, and so nervously I raised my skirt up a bit, and lowered my panties to the floor, wishing I'd worn a nicer pair. I stepped out of them, but he showed no interest in picking them up.
He picked something up off a nearby shelf and placed it in my hand. It was a specimen cup.
"I need you to fill the cup, but please don't spill any on the floor. Persian rugs are difficult to clean," He said in a matter of fact tone.
He took a step back. I glanced around hoping he would point me towards a bathroom. No such luck. If this was a test I didn't intend to fail. I slipped the cup under my skirt, and took a few breaths. I felt a trickle start and was careful not to let it escalate. My hand shook a little. Imagine if my biggest opportunity in life vanished because I peed on the carpet like a scared puppy. After a few seconds I deftly removed the cup without spilling a drop. He held out his hand.
"Don't worry, I have no sexual interest in urine, but you have to be careful about diseases," He said, screwing the cap back on, "I'll have this checked for STD's tonight. Meet me here tomorrow at noon for our first lesson. We will have three lessons before you… graduate."
"I'll call my boss and tell him I'm sick."
Drake pulled a cell phone from his pocket, scrolled through the contacts and pressed dial. I stood there, wondering who he was calling.
"Mr. Becker, this is Peter Drake. Yes, it is actually me."
Becker was the CEO of the firm I worked for. The man didn't even know I existed.
Drake continued, "We met two years ago at the G8 Conference, you had just purchased a fifty foot Viking Yacht and were planning a world cruise. So you do remember? Good. I have one of your employees with me, Ms. Rebecca Stewart. I'll be requiring her consultation services for the next two weeks and would appreciate your cooperation. Does that work for you? Great, thank you very much… and I hope you realize what a tremendous asset she is to your firm. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and smiled, "You are officially excused from work. Even if our agreement doesn't pan out you'll certainly be getting a promotion."
He turned and walked off towards his private living area. " Tomorrow at noon. My driver will pick you up."
He vanished behind a pair of double doors, and, as if on cue, the elevator opened behind me.
CHAPTER THREE: DAVID
I sat in the limo, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Out of nowhere the world's wealthiest and most desirable man had chosen me. Clearly it was sexual, but on what level? And what were these lessons?
Was Drake a dominant man? A few years back I'd played around with the most basic bondage, allowing a boyfriend to tie my hands to the bedposts during sex. We only did it twice before I told him it didn't work for me. In truth I loved it. But the delightful sensation of being restrained and powerless opened a door in my psyche I felt better left closed. I had enjoyed it too much. I knew that like some daredevil I would keep escalating the experience, searching for more, until normal sex became tedious. While all my girlfriends were shopping for bridal gowns I'd be lurking around kinky leather emporiums.
The driver pulled up in front of my brownstone without asking the address. Drake really had been studying me. It was a rundown neighborhood where a limo looked completely out of place. Great, I thought, now my neighbors think I'm a crack dealer.
I entered my one bedroom apartment and took a good look around. My sad blend of IKEA and thrift store was disheartening, but I wasn't investing in nice furniture while juggling crappy paycheck and a ruinous student loan.
"Is this it?" I muttered to myself. Drake's offer was a key to a whole new world, where my hard work would bring rewards.
I walked through the apartment undressing as I went… trust me; it was a short walk. I suddenly realized I'd left my panties lying on Drake's floor. Now I really wished I'd worn a better pair… at least ones I hadn't owned in college.
I took a long hot shower, reflecting on the strangest day of my life. Drake had been even more magnetic in real life than I'd imagined. Those piercing eyes haunted me. The eyes that had stared down the most hardened corporate CEO's had been focused on me. As I ran my soapy hands across my body I imagined what was to come.
"Are you ready to begin," Drake asks me, never breaking his gaze.
"Yes, I'm ready Peter,"
"You should address me as Mr. Drake."
"Yes Mr. Drake, I'm ready."
"Are you ready down there?" He asks, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at my crotch.
"Yes, I'm wet… wetter than I've ever been before."
"Show me," He replies, as if unconvinced, "It's the one thing a woman can't lie about."
I pull my skirt up and slide my fingers down into my best pair of panties. I run my fingers along my pussy, allowing one to slip inside. My breathing gets more intense as I gather evidence. I pull my hand out, holding it up for inspection, "Would you like to check?"
He steps forward, taking my hand, guiding my fingers to his mouth. He tastes them silently and smiles in approval. Then a phone starts ringing. We stare into each other's eyes, ignoring the sound, but it rings again, incessantly… louder each time.
I opened my eyes, realizing my door buzzer was ringing. “Go away," I mutter, as if someone three flights down could hear me. But what if it was Drake's driver surprising me? I instantly grabbed a towel and made for the door.
I pressed the intercom, "Who is it?"
A distorted voice responded, "It's David."
I took a deep breath and pressed the unlock button, disappointment washing over me.
On a technical level you could call D
avid my boyfriend. But it was a barren relationship. I went through the motions, because there were complications that would stem from dumping David. I'll get to those later.
How sexually heated was our relationship? Well, when David came in I had a towel around my waist, my skin still hot and wet from the shower… neither of us noticed.
"I need to get dressed, make yourself comfortable," I said, heading back down the hall.
David grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat back on the couch.
I came out a few minutes later in a comfortable t-shirt and gym shorts. Eight months ago it would have turned him on. Now… zero. I opened the fridge to grab myself a beer. David had taken the last one.
"So," He asked, "How was your day?"
It may sound strange but I opened up to David about everything… excluding the peeing in a cup bit.
"You're going to have an affair with Peter Drake?" He asked, staring at me in disbelief.
"Maybe, I don't know. I'm still considering. I wouldn't call it an affair, more like a three night stand."
David was quiet for a moment, "Well," He finally said, "I think you better go for it. Peter Drake is an important man."
That's my guy folks, thirty seconds and he's ready to pimp me out! Did I mention the fire had died? I couldn’t get too upset since I planned to go through with it anyway. I only told David because sharing information was part of our "unique" relationship.
"I have to head out," He said, grabbing his jacket, "Plus you better rest up for tomorrow, cause who knows what a guy like that is going to want."
He gave me a kiss on the cheek and let himself out. "Who knows what a guy like that is going to want," rang in my brain. What had I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER FOUR: THE FIRST LESSON
At eleven thirty my limo was waiting downstairs. The driver politely opened the door and I wondered how many women he'd ushered to Drake's penthouse? And more importantly, where were they now?
When I stepped out of the elevator Drake was already waiting for me. He wore a casual black T-shirt and jeans, but the T-shirt probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
"Hello Rebecca. I'm glad you accepted my offer."
I walked towards him, trying to hide my nervousness.
"You'll be happy to know your STD test came back negative."
"I try to be careful," I said, failing to be clever.
"Here's mine," He replied pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, "You can check it for yourself."
"I'll take your word for it,"
"Why?" He replied, "I've done nothing to earn that level of trust so you should be cautious."
I looked over the paper and everything was negative, as advertised. But one odd thing jumped out at me.
"Thank you," I said handing it back to him, "I don't want to pry but I noticed 'sterile' was checked on the form."
"Yes, given my position I'm very susceptible to Paternity Suits, so I had a vasectomy. Should I ever choose to have children I have frozen samples in storage"
Interesting, I thought, the man wants complete control, to the point of corralling his own sperm.
"It's time I showed you my Rumpus Room," Drake said gesturing for me to follow. “You will no doubt find that my version is perhaps a little different from what another would call a recreation room, I believe. I have very specific tastes, but, like everyone, I do like my diversions.
We walked through the double doors into a beautifully appointed private parlor. The decor was a blend of classic and contemporary furnishings in muted and tasteful colors, with one exception; a large door covered in bright red leather padding. Drake pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the leather door. It opened into complete darkness.
I stepped into the dark room; the only light came from a glowing LED control panel. Peter walked across the dark room on instinct and pressed the panel. The lights came up revealing an array of theatrically lit equipment. I took a moment to comprehend what I was seeing. The walls were covered with riding crops and whips lined up like pool cues in a billiard room. Spread around the room was an array of specialized furniture- padded sawhorses and benches all gleaming red and black leather.
Drake pressed another button and classical music played. I recognized Mahler's Symphony Number One, otherwise known as Titan. How appropriate for a man like Drake.
"The Rumpus Room," Drake said with a hint of pride, "My inner sanctum. Everything you see was custom made. He ran his hands across the sawhorse. It was wide, heavily padded, with leather straps and padded restraints. “This is a spanking horse, when the submissive is strapped onto it they surrender all control."
Among the S&M gear was a shelf, lined with antique framed pictures, old jewelry pieces and even a pair of bronze baby shoes. Anywhere else these would have been everyday items, but here they were jarringly out of place here. Drake noticed me staring.
"Every time I mentor a woman I ask her to surrender one cherished item, as proof of her commitment. I will ask the same of you at our next session."
Drake was an expert in reading faces. He read the conflicting emotions on my face, and touched my shoulder.
"Rebecca, there is a joy in surrender… an undeniable sense of trust between two people. Are you willing to surrender, placing yourself under my control?"
My instincts all screamed no, run away… "Yes," I said.
He took me in his arms and kissed me. At first it was gentle and reassuring, but it quickly heated to a fevered embrace. His hands moved down my back, caressing my hips. I kissed his neck, fear giving way to desire. Apprehension was turning to surrender.
My dress slid to the floor. I stood there in my bra and panties breathing heavily.
"Take them off," He said gesturing to my lingerie, "they'll just get in the way."
I stripped naked under his watchful eye. He looked me up and down, liking what he saw. Drake carefully removed his shirt, folding in across a leather chair. His body was lean and muscular. He turned his gaze to me and I felt the impulse to look down, subserviently. I heard him undressing as I stared at the floor, docilely awaiting his instructions. He took my hand and led me to the spanking horse. Glancing down I saw that his cock was fully erect, so I must be doing something right, I figured.
He laid me face down across the leather horse and placed my wrists in the padded restraints. He ran another strap around my waist, securing me. Finally he shackled my ankles rendering me immobile and helpless. I couldn't see behind me, but felt his hands roaming across my body. His touch was gentle, like a feather. His fingertips danced across my back, slowly reaching my hips. He continued exploring my body, running his hands down my legs. Drake came close to my pussy but never touched it. A thousand tingles went through my body until my skin was on fire. The soft caressing touches continued… then he spanked my ass sharply. The instant transition from gentle to severe sent a bolt of lightning through me. He spanked me again. I gasped, trying to prepare for the next blow.
But Drake switched back to feather light touches across my hips. His fingertips finally touched the lips of my pussy like a soft breeze. I moaned, unable to control myself. My body wanted to writhe in pleasure but I was immobile. That restraint increased the sensations beyond what I imagined. My college dabbling in bondage was nothing more than two clumsy, graceless kids playing at sex… but now I had crossed a new threshold.
Another series of gentle strokes followed, then a sharp smack across my ass, followed by another thunderbolt of pleasure shooting through me. Serotonin coursed through my veins, intoxicating me with pleasure. Another smack landed on my ass, harder this time.
"Do you surrender all power to me Rebecca?"
"Yes," I said, lips quivering, "I surrender."
He spanked me again, escalating the force in time with my pleasure.
"Oh god, Drake I surrender, take me, fuck me!" I moaned.
And he stopped. The only sound was my breathing.
"You don't get to ask me for anything… if I want to fuck you I will, b
ut only when I deem fit."
"Yes sir," I gasped, "Forgive me."
I breathlessly awaited the next smack, knowing I would be punished. Instead I felt Drake's tongue dabbing at my inner thighs. Inching closer to my pussy with each butterfly kiss. My legs shook but were too tightly restrained to do any more. Then, after an eternity his tongue ran across my labia. The sensation was indescribable. I wanted to cry out but knew that if I did he might stop. I whimpered instead. Drake began to lick my engorged clit. It was like an explosion ripping through me. He smacked my ass again, sending my emotions into another direction. Pleasure and pain blending. Again he dove in, feasting on my pussy juices as my body fought against the restraints. I was cumming harder than I've ever experienced but I couldn't shout out… I had to remain under his control. Another wave of orgasm roared through me… and he could tell I’d peaked.
The room fell silent again, but I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. Drake stepped in front of me for the first time, his stiff cock at eye level. He was carrying a Cat o' Nine Tails, slapping it against his hand.
"It's time to give back what you received," Drake said, stepping closer.
His cock was so close I could taste it… and I did. Craning my head I stuck out my tongue, just barely able to taste the head. I ran my tongue around it; desperate to give him even a fraction of the pleasure I received. He pulled away, just out or reach, and then leaned in again.
"You cannot stop," he said, "Until I give you permission. Is that understood?"
"Yes," I said, "I won't stop." And I took him in my mouth, delighting in the taste of his cock and the salty pre-cum dripping from its head.
The "Cat" smacked across my back, sending shivers through my body. For an instant I paused, but I caught myself and kept sucking Drake's cock. Another strike came across my back. Drake wasn't hitting hard enough to cause pain, but it enhanced my feeling of helplessness. I craned my neck, trying to get his cock deeper into my throat, rolling my tongue across it, doing everything in my power to please him. My excitement reached fever pitch when he pulled away.
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