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, but 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.
He knelt down, eye to eye for the first time, "That's enough," He said.
I had lost all sense of time, but Mahler's symphony was winding to a close… and it's an hour long! My god, had I experienced a full hour of orgasm? Is that even physically possible?
"But you didn't cum yet," I said with pleading eyes, "Did I fail you?"
"No," He said, smiling for the first time since the session began, "That's for next time."
He unshackled my hands, and then removed the other restraints. Drake guided me to my feet and my knees buckled for a moment until he caught me. Lifting me in his arms he carried me to a couch in the corner. He set me down gently, and curled up next to me. We embraced, enjoying the warm sensation as he stroked my hair tenderly. Giving into the sweet surrender I fell asleep.
I woke up alone. My clothes were carefully folded on a small table. Attached was a note reading "Tomorrow at noon." I dressed and made my way through the empty living space. Checking my phone I realized I'd been here for five hours. I took the elevator down to the lobby where the limo driver waited patiently.
CHAPTER FIVE: THE OFFERING
An hour later I sat in my deathly quiet little apartment contemplating the day. Pleasure and guilt are two strangely intertwined emotions. Today had been the most intense sexual experience of my life, but my motives were purely personal gain. Was this prostitution or exploration?
The phone rang, pulling me out of my meditative state. It was my grandmother.
Though I'd drifted apart from my parents and siblings I always remained close to my grandmother. We chatted for about a half an hour and I could tell she was restless and bored with her new life. She'd just retired after forty years as an accountant for a major company, but retirement was not her cup of tea. Needless to say I did not mentioned my busy day strapped to a leather horse. I said goodbye, promising to call again later in the week.
Drake had asked me to surrender a treasured personal item, and my grandmother's call helped me decide on exactly what that sacrifice would be.
Ten minutes after we hung up David called. I stared at the caller ID, but let it go to voice mail. I thought about our conversation the night before. How doing this with Drake would open up new career doors for me, but this sexual odyssey was opening other doors to.
CHAPTER SIX: THE SECOND LESSON
At eleven thirty the next morning the limo was waiting outside my brownstone. The driver ushered me into the car as quiet and stoic as ever. We rode in silence until we reached Drake's floor.
I stepped out of the elevator, clutching my "offering" to my chest. After an hour of pondering I chose not to gift-wrap it, deciding it was ludicrous to decorate a sacrifice. I doubt the Roman's spent time putting a bow around a lamb's neck before offering it to the gods. Eventually I stuffed it into a plain brown bag.
Drake stood waiting for me. "Is that your offering?" He asked, gesturing to the bag.
"Yes," I said holding it out to him.
Reaching into the bag he pulled out my humble sacrifice. It was a vase that had been passed down to my grandmother, and she had given it to me. It was simple, with no real financial value but I felt pangs of guilt handing it over.
Drake smiled, "You feel guilty don't you?" He said, "Giving up something with such tremendous sentimental value?"
"Yes," I said nodding, "It's been in my family a very long time."
"Guilt and remorse have no value. They're shackles that will keep you from reaching your potential. You must un-learn those emotions to succeed. Yesterday you did things you never imagined, and with a total stranger no less. Later when you were alone, did you feel guilt?"
"Yes," I said, being honest, "I felt like I whored myself out."
"And was that really why you felt guilty?"
"No… I felt guilty because I enjoyed it."
"You see, the guilt was a useless exercise because you wanted to do it again anyway."
He was right, I had no reason to feel guilt over what I did. It's better to accept that I wanted more and enjoy it.
"So are you ready to begin?" He asked.
"So ready."
"Good," He said, leading me by the hand. Then he paused, "You're not afraid of heights are you?"
"I don't think so."
"Excellent," He replied, and led me to his private sanctum.
Moments later we were in the Rumpus Room, Mahler's symphony playing in the background. Drake carefully placed my offering on the shelf, next to so many others. I pondered who these women might be. Once again Drake read my mind.
"You'll meet all of these women on your climb to the top though you will never know each other's names."
Then he kissed me gently, "Thank you for this beautiful item."
We kissed again, passion rising as our tongue wound tightly. My nervousness vanished, replaced by fierce desire. Why did this man have such power over my emotions? My breath came in short, shallow gasps and my heart was racing.
Drake stepped back for a moment, grabbing the hem of my dress. He pulled, tearing the fabric, leaving me naked.
"You didn't wear lingerie today?" He observed, pleased at my choice.
I just nodded my head, and we kissed again. I ran my hands under his shirt, feeling the solid muscles beneath.
"You may undress me this time," He said.
I slid his T-Shirt over his head and was about to toss it aside until I saw the disapproving look in his eye. I carefully folded the shirt, placing it on a nearby chair.
"Now the pants," He said.
I unbuckled his belt and slid his pants to the floor. He had also forsaken underwear today and his stiff cock bobbed up an inch from my face. I wanted to touch it, stroke it and taste it but I knew my duties. I carefully folded the pants, but intentionally did it wrong, ignoring the crease. I turned to place it on the chair and felt a sharp smack across my ass.
Drake swung his hand back, smacking my bottom again.
"You did it incorrectly. Try again."
Once again I folded them wrong, earning another smack across my bottom. The sensation of his hand smacking my butt sent a warm rush through my pussy. After a few more smacks I folded the pants correctly.
Sitting down on an armless chair Drake gestured me to him, "Come here, and lie down across my knee."
I bent over, placing myself across his knee like a disobedient schoolgirl. His hand came down with a sharp smack. His hard cock poked my belly as he spanked me again.
"You deliberately disobeyed me didn't you? Why?"
"I wanted to be punished," I moaned, enjoying that stiff cock pressing against my tummy. He gave me another hard spank.
"Now stand up," He commanded.
He rose, walking to the center of the room. A network of ropes was suspended from the ceiling as if designed for a giant marionette. He tugged at them, ensuring they were secure.
"Come," He commanded.
I obeyed. Drake wrapped the first rope around my waist, securing it tightly. The ropes were soft, never biting into my skin.
"This is called Shibari, the ancient Japanese art of rope bondage," H
e said, pulling another rope tautly across my mid-section.
He adjusted the main rope, lowering it from the ceiling, allowing me to lie on a bamboo mat. Drake pulled my hands behind my back, securing them with another set of suspended ropes. Drake’s hands gently stroked my skin between tying knots. Once again the maddening contrast of gentle caresses with punishment sent waves of pleasure through me.
The ropes continued, a complex spider web of knots rendering me immobile on the bamboo mat. Drake was meticulous, checking each line ensuring tautness but never tearing at my skin. I lay there, breathless, panting, and unsure of what was to come.
"The beauty of Shibari is that it renders you completely helpless," Drake said, kneeling beside me, "It requires total surrender to my will. If you can't accept that I'll cut the ropes and you can leave."
"I want to stay," I moaned, lying on my stomach, unable to move.
He kissed my cheek and walked to the corner of the room. There was an elaborate network of ropes tied off, extending to pulleys on the ceiling. Carefully he loosened one and pulled. My body rose slowly. Drake's knots were precise, distributing my weight perfectly. There was no pain or pulling of muscles. Only helplessness… the way a fly must feel suspended in a spider's web. I only hung a few feet off the ground, but I still had to fight off panic. I craned my head trying to see, but the movement sent me into a slow spin. I did one complete revolution until Drake's hand brought me to a stop. Poised in front of me was his hard cock. He inched forward allowing my lips to kiss his penis. Drake moved his hips back and forth, fucking my mouth, while letting his fingers dance across my inner thighs. Every sensation was intensified by the helplessness of being suspended face down, hands secured behind my back in a spider web of ropes.
My sucking grew too aggressive, sending my body into another dizzying spin. Again Drake's gentle touch stopped the whirling. This time he was behind me, fingers probing my sopping wet pussy.
"Oh god," I moaned, overwhelmed, "Please Drake, fuck me!"
The Billionaire's Rumpus Room Page 2
