In Service To The Billionaire

by Heather Chase

  Or, Sand could. He probably made that much every hour, if not more.

  Of course, there was the whole moral concern to think of when buying a fur. Sophia, before, had never really considered such a purchase worthy of her.

  But...a naughtier side of her, a darker side, couldn't help but want it now. She stepped back forward and caressed the soft sleeves of the material. To take something that expensive—twenty thousand dollars, for goodness' sake—and to have it for her own in a heartbeat. That much money would pay for her rent for more than two years!

  The more she thought about it and held the incredibly soft material, the more that her choice in the matter completely eroded. She had to buy it. God, she would soo hot. Just for him. Just for her Master.

  * * * * *

  A little after eight at night, Sand arrived home.

  “Hello?” he called out. “If you’re here, let me know. I have no way of knowing.”

  She heard his steps creaking along the wooden floors as he approached.

  The lamp was next to her on the enormous luxury couch—she flipped it on, revealing her body underneath the light.

  She was dressed in forest green silk lingerie—long silky stockings floated up to her thighs, attached with sparkling, jewel-encrusted garters. Her sheer g-string panties covered her shaved pussy only in theory. The amazing, delicate lace of her bra lifted her tits up and together, putting all of her hot body on display.

  And in the cold of the immense condo, she kept herself warm by wearing her new, thick fur coat, its hood wrapped on top of her sexy mass of obsidian hair. Her shoes—light green leather and sporting ridiculous five-inch platform heels—extended the reach of her hot, lithe legs.

  Of course, her shiny, hot collar was around her neck—she wouldn't dare be inside his home without it.

  She had used one hand to turn on the lamp—the other had long ago pushed aside her panties, playing with herself as she waited for her Sir to come back home. A sexy, small puddle of her lust had formed up on the leather under her.

  “Please, Master,” she moaned. “Please...won’t you come teach me how to obey?”

  Smiling, he set his coat on a nearby rack and then unbuttoned the sleeves and middle of his crisp white shirt. All the while, lest he decide to suddenly look at her, she made hot, pouty faces of need at him. They were only slightly exaggerated as she continued to finger her hot slit—she was desperate for a good fuck.

  “I saw the charges you made today,” he said.

  She nodded, watching with intense interest as he kicked his pants to the ground and then his boxers. His herculean form was dazzlingly hot in the dim light of the enormous condo. His cock, perfect and long, was already getting hard.

  “They were...rather extravagant,” he said, approaching her.

  His body was right over hers, now. She couldn't resist touching him. Her heels slid up the outside of her thighs and then locked around his firm ass. Gently, she pulled him in.

  A small moan of delight exited her mouth as her hand slipped around his cock, stroking intently. “But all those charges were worth it, I hope?”

  He smiled, examining her further. His strong hands gripped her thighs hard. Breathing hard, she stroked him more luxuriously, taking her time.

  His hands slid over her firm tits, over the collar around her neck, and then pushed back her long dark mass of hair. “You didn’t buy yourself any new jewelry?”

  She shook her head sultrily. “I didn’t want to deny you the pleasure.”

  He grinned. His cock was entirely hard in her hands now. Easily, as if they were little more than tissue, he ripped her panties off. With a groan, he sank on top of her, his heavy, hard meat entering her fully.

  “Good pet,” he moaned into her ear, pumping into her cunt rhythmically. “Good pet. I’m going to take you tonight just like you deserve.”

  After several more strokes inside of her burning pussy, he stood up and moved her down onto the floor, slipping off her fur jacket. Its soft surface acted as a sort of rug for the two of them as he straddled her tits.

  “Oh yeah,” she moaned as he ripped her bra off. “Yes, Master. Do it. Fuck my titties, please? Fuck my slave tits?”

  With a grim smile, he nodded. The thick head of his cock pushed forward against her soft skin, ever-so-slowly sliding up between her tits. From fucking her sopping cunt and spurting lots of precum on his own, her Master's cock had plenty of lubrication.

  Harder and harder her pushed forward on her breasts, his hot, hard cock moved up and down furiously between the perfect sloping valley of her cleavage.

  “I own you,” he growled. “Say it.”

  “You own me!” she moaned. “You own me, Master!”

  The head of his cock stretched farther, hitting her in the chin. If she tilted her head just right, she was able to take part of it into her mouth, sliding her little tongue lasciviously around the ridge.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “You're so hot. Spending all that money. What a hot whore you became for me.”

  “Mmmhmm.” Her mouth was half-full of his cock. Even so, she tried to respond. “A whore just for Master.”

  “That's right,” he nodded. “My whore. My good little whore.”

  Fucking her more and more urgently, the passionate fury of his face becoming more and more intense, he finally came. The hot goo spurted all over her face and chest, sliding down her tits. After the second or third spurt, he shifted his position and shoved his cock directly into her open, waiting mouth, filling her throat with his burningly delicious gunk.

  His cock still dripped cum as he slid up on top of her body.

  “How’s this for jewelry,” he said, dabbing little beads of dripping cum around her as-of-yet untouched neck.

  From the entire display, her body warmed, loving the thrill of having his cum mark her like that. The cum slid up around her collar, and that was even hotter—symbols on top of symbols. Knowing he would like it, she slid the cum on her tits and face around, rubbing some in and swallowing the rest.

  She made a slow, long display of it, dragging her finger up her cheek to gather all of the sticky, yummy substance she could. Then she gobbled it down with an eager tongue.

  He watched, breathless, seeing her obedience in action.

  “I love my Master's seed,” she purred. “Take me again?”

  Of course, he did.

  Chapter 15

  Sophia had no idea life could be so good.

  All day Sunday, they had dreamy, hot, perfect sex in every room of his expansive condo. He was relentless, tireless, taking her again and again to the point where even walking from room to room was excessive, as he was just going to be pushing her down to fuck her anyway.

  Unless, that is, he picked her up and pinned her against the wall—which happened more than once. The time spent in between fucking revolved mostly around her sucking, licking, and kissing his cock—even while he ate prepackaged meals from the fridge. He suggested at several intervals that soon, she would be doing all the cooking and preparing of meals for him. She liked that idea just fine.

  Later in the day, before fucking each other to sleep, they made a vow not to fuck at the office the next day.

  Sophia, however, was never too partial to the idea. He was a billionaire, and he owned the building that everyone worked in. So what if he got caught fucking? What were they going to do about it? Was he going to fire her?

  So, she came in to work every day that week dressed as sexily as ever, exclusively wearing the outfits that she had bought just for him.

  On Monday, this meant a tiny blue silk dress complete with expensive tights and gray suede knee-high boots. She didn't even bother to wear a sweater to cover up.

  Men stared. She enjoyed it, knowing that meant her Master would stare even more. It was hot for her now, not being able to know—due to the nature of his opaque office—when he was looking at her, stroking his cock with his pants down. She liked to think he was doing it all the time.

  A
s much as she could, she lingered at his desk when she delivered him papers, finding excuses to bend over so he could see her illustrious cleavage, or kneel down on the ground in search of crumbs that didn’t exist.

  In the afternoon, she mentioned offhand while delivering coffee that she needed to remember to make her student loan payments. He asked how much they were—and then informed her that he was going to take care of them. All of them. In one payment.

  More weight off her shoulders from him—and more secure in the same stroke. Her heart swelled with admiration. She promised herself that she would suck his cock for an hour later that night—a promise that she kept.

  At the end of the day, of course, she still went and visited Elle in the hospital—who was recovering more and more by the day, her bruises fading and all the movement and strength fast returning to her injured shoulder. Her dance career, while delayed for maybe a month or two while she got back up to full strength, was not in jeopardy.

  It was fun to see all the folks in the hospital's eyes light up as Sophia walked by in her hot, daring little outfits. She liked to think that the higher her hemlines went, the more the

  After another full round of tiny dresses, high heels, and sexy walks and bends on Tuesday, she finally managed to convince him to break his no-fucking rule on Wednesday.

  Late in the evening, after everyone else had already left, he had a conference call with business partners overseas in Japan. So the only people left in the entire office, and probably the building, were the two of them.

  Seeing her enter, he shook his hand, gesturing for her to leave.

  She complied with a smile, knowing that she was going to wow him in just a moment.

  Right outside his office—not bothering to go the bathroom with the floor so empty—she changed. If he turned forward from behind his desk, he would be able to watch her sexy, lithe body sliding into her over-sexified office outfit. She put on a shiny golden silk blouse, two sizes too small, not even beginning to approach her sexy bare midriff and unable to button at all over the hot skin of her bronze braless tits.

  Fishnet stockings with white bows at the back of her sexy tanned thighs covered her perfect legs. Her skirt, pleated and tiny and dark, did nothing to hide the sexy shape of her body.

  She stepped inside the office, strutting for the half the distance, as was her ritual, and then crawling for the rest of it.

  Sand took a long while to notice her. “Yes, we’ll have those in place by the end of the quarter, and...”

  He drifted off, finally seeing her approaching, crawling form. She poured herself between his legs, looking up with pleading in her eyes.

  He owned her, that was true enough, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do her best to influence him. She felt compelled to prove herself to him, over and over.

  If she took the time to examine that feeling, in fact, she might notice something negative was building behind it...but that would ruin the fun.

  She mouthed several hot, silent, begging “please”s at him, over and over. With every please, she dragged her hand over the ever-stiffening bulge behind his pants.

  With a short, jerky nod, he finally acquiesced to her pleas.

  As he conducted the voice conference, Sophia happily unzipped his pants. Eagerly, she popped her pink lips over his perfect cockhead, taking more and more of him down her throat immediately.

  His breathing became heavy and forced as he listened to the conference call. Sophia didn't care a whit about anything they were saying. All she wanted to do was suck her Master's cock like a good girl. Her tongue slipped up and down over the thick line of his rod, her slurping noises just under the audible level for the phone to pick up.

  “How does that sound, Mr. Sand?” someone asked. And then, when he was too busy breathing hard to answer, “Gerald?”

  As she devotedly sucked him down deep, he cleared his throat and tried to speak.

  “Yeah, that’s good,” he said, voice catching. “That’s...that’s really good.”

  “You’re sure?” said the voice on the phone. “You like those numbers?”

  “Yes. Yessss,” he thrust his hips into Sophia's mouth, wrapping his legs around her head. “I mean...” he paused, trying to clear his head and think.

  Sophia didn't pause, though. So close to his full eagerness, to a full, hot face fucking like she had always, always wanted from a Master, she kept going, licking and sucking with happy moans.

  Voices on the phone tried to reconfirm with Sand.

  “I gotta...” his every word was laced with lust, staring hard into Sophia's devoted green eyes. “I gotta go, boys. Send me a report and I'll make the decision tomorrow morning.”

  He banged the desk, hanging up the phone—and almost immediately Sophia redoubled her efforts, moaning and slurping as loud as she could. Caught by surprise by her sudden surge of effort, Sand came hard down Sophia’s hot, eager mouth almost immediately.

  His legs unwrapped from around her head and his whole body relaxed. With an almost religious fervor, she continued to lick and clean his slowly-softening cock.

  “You are dangerous,” he said, looking at her with contented admiration. “If I had one of you for each competitor of mine, I'd have a monopoly on the whole damn economy.”

  * * * * *

  Thursday, when she arrived at his condo, Sand gifted her with a diamond necklace. It was mouthwateringly gorgeous—a combination of pear, cushion, and square-cut diamonds, each set in exquisite gold. Even the clasp was ornate—a twelve-point diamond star.

  Looking at, Sophia could barely breathe. It was too much!

  “Oh my god!” she cried, examining it. “This is—this is—this is...”

  She couldn't even say what it was. Such incredible wealth was genuinely beyond her understanding.

  “I was hoping to render you speechless,” he said with a grin, drawing her close. “But I will settle for babbling.”

  She continued to try and speak and he lifted the hot mass of her dark hair up and clasped it around her neck. It was heavy, of course, but so elegant and shiny. Everything about her felt underdressed with it on. It was almost as good as wearing her collar.

  “Perfect,” he said. “You look perfect.”

  Her heart fluttered at his words. She needed him. Now. Her body pressed against his huge frame, her hand sinking to his cock.

  All emotions inside of her rushed up to her mouth, sliding out on the edge of her lips, desperately aching to bridge into his mind.

  Sophia loved him, in that moment. Truly.

  But she could not bring herself to tell him. She couldn’t do it first. Not after Todd.

  She knew he could see it in her eyes—she saw the flash of recognition there—but something strong and primal held him back just as something did her.

  “Oh, Master,” she said instead, embracing him.

  But within that phrase, her meaning was, “I love you.”

  “My slave,” he said back to her, gripping her hard.

  And she hoped that she was right, and with those words, he meant three others just as she did.

  He stroked her hair, bringing down his face so that it was mere inches away from hers. “You can’t wear it at work, you understand. Too many questions.”

  “Of course,” she cooed. “Yes. But you have to understand that I can’t just let you give me such a thing and not repay you...over and over again.”

  Immediately, diamonds sparkling around her neck, she slipped to her knees and slid his pants down, taking his immense cock into her mouth.

  She was getting very good at sucking him off.

  Her emerald eyes stared up at him with open adoration, loving the thrill of wearing his property, being his property, everything about her totally his.

  The blowjob led to a whole night of fucking. In each new room, she found out he had a new gift for her. In the living room was a pair of emerald earrings that a queen in Europe once wore. In the bedroom was a pair of panties made entirely out of rare jewels.
In the kitchen was a diamond tiara.

  “You’ll be my little domesticated queen,” he said, presenting her with each gift, stroking her chin. “You'll wearing nothing but jewelry, and do everything I say.”

  The thought sent an unadulterated thrill down her spine. Sophia wanted to be all about fighting for women’s rights and equality and all of that, but the prospect of having a man own her, doing all her thinking and working for her while she dedicated herself solely to adoring him had an enormously erotic effect on her.

  It simplified life, in a very specific way, to focus herself solely for being his fucktoy.

  * * * * *

  Buried deep in the comforting, perfect grip of Sand that night, Sophia was lost deep in thought, thinking of that notion he mentioned. Being his hot, domesticated queen.

  She realized, suddenly, that for the longest time, domestication had fascinated her. It was such an obviously power-driven thing to do to a woman—to take her from someone who had enormous career aspirations and big hopes and dreams and transform her into a happy housewife who lived only to wear sexy lingerie and heels while she cooked dinner for her man. Spending all her time totally in love and waiting for him to come home so she could suck him off after serving him a nice hot meal, or getting fucked from behind while she rolled out a fresh tray of cookies.

  Her first semester of college, freshly eighteen, she had still been a virgin when Halloween rolled around. She wasn't determined to lose her virginity, per se, but she was definitely thinking that it was about time for it to happen. So, wanting to at least get herself in the mood for such a thing, she dressed in the sexiest costume she could think of: a french maid.

  There was something just so subversive and erotic about wearing a maid's outfit. The thought of actually being someone like that, living in a person's house with her own special maid room maybe, wearing a hot uniform that was designed entirely to show off her legs and tits...cornering the man of the house in his office, dropping down to her knees to do her maidly duty and make him forget all about his hard, hard day and focus entirely on his hard, hard cock...

  Yes. Maid outfits were hot.

  The upperclassman who picked her up apparently thought the same way.