At His Command (The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 3)
By Delilah Fawkes
Have you ever had one of those moments where something so strange and fantastic is happening to you, that you wonder if you’re dreaming? One of those moments that is so surreal, so unlike anything in your ordinary life that you’re positive it’s a fantasy? But then you pinch yourself. The pain grounds you, and you realize it’s really happening.
Your life is changing forever.
This is exactly how I felt as Mr. Drake led me into his secret dungeon and showed me what he had in store for me.
For a few minutes, he let me wander through the room, touching and exploring, asking myself which things I’d like to try. He watched from the doorway, wearing only his silk boxers, a knowing grin on his handsome face.
I picked up a pair of wrist restraints, feeling the suppleness of the leather, longing for the feel of being helpless before this powerful man. I ran my hands over the tails of a flog, then picked up a crop, wondering what it would feel like, laying into me when I was bent over, crying out beneath Mr. Drake’s skillful blows.
The cross intrigued me the most, and I ran my hands over its dark surface before turning back to the man watching me closely.
“What is this thing?”
“It’s called a St. Andrews cross. If we decided to play with it, I’d lash your wrists to the top two restraints, and your ankles to the bottom two, leaving you spread wide and vulnerable, unable to resist whatever I wanted to do to you.”
I shivered, imagining the kind of things he might do when I was bound and naked before him, stretched and ready.
He stepped closer, looming over me.
“Would you like that, Isabeau? Would you like to be helpless to resist while I bring you orgasm after orgasm, denying you what you really want until you are begging to be filled by my cock?”
My eyes almost rolled back in my head from his words alone.
“Yes… Sir.”
I wanted it more than anything.
“Then get some rest. Tomorrow, you’re mine to do with as I please.”
I groaned at his words. “But what about work?”
“Isabeau,” he said, grinning down at me. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
***
When I woke, I noticed that my clothes were folded on the trunk on the foot of my bed , with a note sitting on top in an elegant hand.
I have business in the city to attend to, but will return as soon as I can.
Please make yourself comfortable. My house is your house while you stay.
I can’t wait to see you, little temp.
I read the note over and over again before holding it to my lips. I couldn’t believe this was happening. The dream was real, and suddenly, I felt like a very naughty version of Cinderella, living with my kinky Prince Charming.
What’s the first thing a princess to do? I wondered, then grinned. She’d explore the castle, of course!
I hadn’t gotten a good look at my surroundings the night before, but now as I pushed the door open and padded down the hall in my bare feet, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed. Mr. Drake’s home was lushly furnished with thick, soft carpets cushioning my steps, and gorgeous artwork displayed in every room. I examined one painting to see if it was a print, but brushstrokes were visible in the lamplight, as clear as day. An original. How much money did he spend on something as simple as decorating?
My one Ikea print hanging over my bed seemed down right sad in comparison. Considering that was my idea of a splurge item when I moved in said a lot about the difference between our two worlds. Suddenly, I felt very small, and very out of place.
The house was enormous, and it took me awhile to find my way down a back stairwell and into the kitchen. A stocky blonde woman looked up from behind the granite counter top and raised a sharp eyebrow at me.
“Miss, those are the stairs the staff uses. Guests use the grand staircase.”
I blushed, my face feeling hotter than the noonday sun. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
In fact, I’d forgotten there was a staff. The chef nodded curtly at me, and went back to chopping vegetables. I sat down awkwardly on a stool by the counter and wondered what do to next. My stomach growled.
“May I make you something, Miss? An omelet? Or perhaps a crepe?”
I smiled at her. This was all too weird. “Please make me whatever is your favorite.”
She grinned back, her icy exterior warming at my words. “Right away, Miss.”
We chatted while she worked, and I soon learned that Katja had worked for Mr. Drake since he left college, leaving his father’s household for his. When I finally tried the savory crepe she’d made, my eyes rolled back in my head.
“This may be the best thing I’ve ever had,” I said, groaning.
The older woman beamed at me.
“Danke.”
I attempted to pry information about my sexy and mysterious boss from her between bites, but she kept her words cheerfully vague. It seemed she didn’t know much about his personal life at all. He usually sent the staff home early after they’d prepared dinner, preferring to serve his guests himself.
“Although he hasn’t brought a beautiful young lady such as yourself home in quite some time,” she said, her hands on her chef’s apron. “And a shame, too! None of them have ever complimented my cooking.”
“That’s a crime,” I said, finishing my last bite and sighing.
“Mr. Drake should be home any moment. Would you please follow me?”
I jumped as a gravelly, male voice interrupted our talk. A silver-haired butler stood behind me, holding a black, wooden box in his hands and looking grave.
“Uh… of course, Mister…?”
The man gave a deep bow. “Mr. Daniels, my lady. If you would please follow me?”
I thanked Katja, and followed him through the winding halls of the house until we were outside of Mr. Drake’s study, where I’d found him holding my torn shirt the night before. I tingled with anticipation, wondering when he would appear, and what he’d do to me in his dungeon when he did.
Mr. Daniels set the box on a low table by the fire.
“I’ve been instructed to tell you to please put on the contents of the box, and wait here for the master’s arrival.”
I nodded, my pulse thudding in my ears, adrenaline coursing through me. What had he left me?
“Yes, of course,” I stuttered. “Thank you very much, Mr. Daniels.”
“Miss.”
He bowed low again and saw himself out of the room. The door snapped shut behind him.
Curious, I rushed to open the box. Inside was a crimson garter belt and matching bra, as well as a couple of devices and a bottle that made me blush. There was also another note in Mr. Drake’s handwriting.
Wear these items and nothing else. The black plug goes in back, and the white in front. I expect you ready and waiting for me, Isabeau. Do not disappoint me.
I stared down at the box, my mouth hanging open. The idea of being filled completely intrigued me, but I admit, I was also more than a little nervous. I’d never had anything in my ass before, and even though the plug before me was small, I didn’t know how it would feel. Would it hurt?
I slowly removed my clothes, folding them carefully and setting them aside before wiggling into the embroidered garter and lacy black stockings. It felt strange to be wearing all this without panties covering me, but also naughty, leaving me feeling deliciously exposed. I slipped the bra on, and then picke
d up the bottle of lube, biting my lip.
I got on my knees and took a deep breath, reaching behind me to slide it into position. Here goes nothing.
When the plug pushed against my pucker, I gasped at the feel of the cold gel, then at the sensation of my ring of muscle wrapping around it, accepting it into my body. It stung a little as I adjusted to the tapered silicone inside me, making me squirm on the carpet. It felt so wrong doing something like this, but the feeling made my sex heat and my body tingle all over.
If my conservative family ever knew I did anything like this, they’d each have a heartattack before calling my pastor.
I smiled and reached for the delicate, white vibrator. It was egg shaped and slipped easily inside of me as my walls squeezed around it. There was no button or anything that I could see, but the feeling of these two toys rubbing together through the thin membrane of skin separating them was almost too much to take.
I waited there, on my knees, half expecting Mr. Drake to burst in at any moment. I was so ready for him, I ached, longing for him to take me and show me something I’d never experienced before. To take me deeper into his world.
The sound of a key scraping in a lock made me spin around to face the door. Suddenly embarrassed, I covered my privates, in case it was Mr. Daniels coming back to check on me. The lock snapped and I could hear footfalls moving away from the door. I furrowed my brow, frowing before it finally hit me. I was locked in!
I ran to the door and tried the knob, swearing under my breath when it didn’t move. What the hell was going on?
I yelped as the plug in my ass and the vibrating egg both buzzed to life, making me rock on my feet and clutch the door knob for support. My body felt like it was on fire, the powerful vibrations making me gasp for air. I hadn’t touched any buttons, but they were both pulsing in time, making my clench around them.
Just as quickly as they started, they stopped, and I stood panting, trying to catch my breath. I reached between my legs, looking for some kind of switch so I could control these things, but as I did, a voice resonated from a speaker in the ceiling.
“Hands at your sides, Isabeau.”
I gasped, but did as I was told. “Mr. Drake?”
“Very good, my little temp. I love how quickly you obey me. You deserve a reward.”
The butt plug and dildo buzzed to life again, and I doubled over, groaning. The vibrations in my ass were driving me wild in a way I’d never experienced. It was intense. Too intense.
“Please…”
The vibrations stopped.
“You look beautiful, Isa. I knew that color would suit you. Not like those horrid pastels you usually wear. You’re too wild for that. A very bad girl trapped inside a good girl’s clothes.”
I straightened up again, my hands and my sides and looked around, wondering how he could see me. There were no windows, and the door was shut tight behind me. I spied a shining black dot nestled at the foot of a bust on the mantle. A camera. Bingo.
“Before we play today, there are some matters to discuss. Some groundrules, if you will.”
“What kind of rules?”
There was a low chuckle. “Eager, aren’t we? Well, first, you are always to address me as ‘Sir’ when we play. I am your master, and you are my dirty little slave girl, understood? I own you when you’re in my dungeon, Isabeau.”
I trembled at his words, feeling my thighs growing slick with my own arousal.
“But my part of that exchange is my promise to keep you safe, always, at all times. You give me your trust, and I earn every second of it. That’s the deal.”
I nodded, the weight of his words settling over me. I would have to trust him completely, but the thought of him dominating me, protecting me even as he caused me pain… It made me moan quietly, and move my fingers to my pussy.
“Bad girl, Isabeau! I’m not done explaining.”
He gave me a quick pulse from the vibrators, just enough to shock me. I grinned and put my hands back at my sides.
“Are you willing to put yourself in my hands? Will you be my little slave, Isa?”
I sighed, enchanted by the thought of being in his hands, bending to his every whim.
“Yes, Sir…”
There was a weighty pause, and I pictured him smiling, wherever he was, looking me over, seeing the effect he already had on me.
“The next rule is perhaps the most important. If I go too far, or if you want things to stop for any reason, you need a word to say to put a halt to things. A safe word. If we’re playing a game where ‘stop’ doesn’t mean ‘stop,’ you use that word, and I stop immediately. Do you understand?”
I nodded, wondering what I could possibly use, but feeling comfort at the thought of that fail safe.
“I do.”
“Think of your word, and then we can begin.”
Buzzing ripped through my body, making my knees buckle. I fell to the carpet, bracing myself against the ottoman as my core squeezed around the pulsing toys.
“Once you’ve cum twice for me, I’ll let you out, and we’ll hear that safe word.”
“What?!” I gasped. He wanted me to cum twice? Here and now? While he watched?
My cheeks burned, but the vibrations were making it hard to feel anything else, including shame. My whole world narrowed to the knowledge that he was watching me, controlling me. The pattern of vibration changed, pulsing twice, then once, slow, then fast, and I knew he was playing my body like an instrument from afar, willing me to cum for him.
He didn’t have to wait long.
The pulsing in my ass against the egg in the front made me come apart, wailing on my back, legs squeezed together as my body convulsed. I shuddered, my thighs trembling, my clit overly sensitive, but the vibrations kept on.
And just when I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, Mr. Drake amped up the power.
My screams echoed off the walls, filling my ears.
***
I lay limp in Mr. Drake’s strong arms as he carried me into the dungeon, sweaty and wrung out from my orgasms.
The door closed behind us, and he whispered in my ear. “What’s your safe word?”
“Ramen,” I said, grinning against his shoulder, thinking of the day he’d ripped my shirt off after I spilled ramen noodles down my front.
His low laugh made his chest rumble against my cheek. “Ramen, it is.”
He stopped in front of a swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that I eyed with longing. Mr. Drake lifted me into it as if I weighed no more than a child, and went to work securing my arms over my head, then moving down to spread my legs wide, strapping my ankles in with the supple leather.
I was opened up before him, nothing hidden from his view. I saw the hunger burning in his eyes as his gaze raked over my body. He undid his silver tie and slid it to the floor, then unbuttoned his shirt with surgical precision as I watched, just as hungry as he was. I couldn’t wait to see that muscled chest of his—his fit body beaded with sweat as he bent over me…
I licked my lips as his shirt fell beside his tie, and waited for him to undo his belt buckle. Instead, he reached for my bra, and roughly pulled my breasts out of the lace, displaying them on top of the cups. He leaned over and rolled each nipple between his fingers, pinching them hard until I gasped.
“Do you like that, little slave?”
I exhaled hard at his words, my pussy heating below. “Y-yes, Sir.”
He pinched them one last time, then leaned back, assessing his work. My nipples were erect, the tips red and puffy from his attentions.
“Good girl.”
He disappeared to one side, and I craned my head to try to follow him, squinting into the dim light of the dungeon. Then, his hand closed around my throat from behind, making me tense with fear.
“I’m going to show you a whole new world, little girl,” he rasped, making me tremble.
Something black and leather caressed my should
er, then moved down, sliding over my chest. Glancing down I saw it was the end of one of the riding crops, and I tensed, my heart hammering in my chest. Mr. Drake moved it slowly downward, tracing the curves of each of my breasts, holding my neck so I could watch each movement.
“A world where you belong to me.”
He flicked the crop, slapping the leather down sharply onto one nipple. I screamed at the sharp sting, and his hand tightened on my throat.
“I use you as I please. I give you pain when it pleases me, and pleasure only when you deserve it. Do you think you deserve it now, slave?”
His wrist flicked again, snapping the head of the crop against the soft tissue of my breast. I whimpered, tears burning my eyes.
“I… I don’t know, Sir.”
“Unacceptable answer.”
He moved to my side, looming over me, and ran the crop lower, toying with me, tracing the curve of my hip before tracing the inside of my thigh. I felt so helpless, unable to move, waiting for the next blow to fall, wondering what it would feel like, and fearing it all the same.
“When I ask you a question, I want either a ‘yes, Sir’ or a ‘no, Sir.’ ‘I don’t know’ is not an option, Isabeau.”
The crop whipped down, sending blazing pain spidering over my inner thigh. I pulled against the cuffs, writhing beneath him, unable to cover myself. Despite the pain, my body was heating more and more with each blow, my sex dripping against the edge of the swing.
“Understood?”
“Yes, Sir!”
Tears trailed down my cheeks, but I’d never felt so alive. My body was on fire, sensations sharper than they’d ever been before, lighting up my nerves. The leather against my back felt decadant, the cuffs pleasantly snug, the red marks on my breast and leg sensual and obscene.
“Do you deserve pleasure, slave?”
“No, Sir…”
The crop traced the spread lips of my pussy, making me moan. My feet strained against the cuffs, but whether I wanted to close my legs or spread them wider, I wasn’t sure.
“And why is that, pray tell?”
At His Command: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 3 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) Page 1
