by Angela Blake
“What do you mean?” Sasha asked. “Is he like some woman beater or something?”
“No, not like that,” Jane said. “You’ll see when you get a good look at his profile and -”
“Woah!” Sasha exclaimed with a giggle. Her attention was glued to the screen as she read the details about the guy. “He calls himself a ‘self-taught BDSM artist’ and also owns the Nareid Food Corporation. He is hot though, I’ll give him that.”
Jane closed her laptop and then scooted over beside Sasha, “See? That’s a whole lot of naughty in a whole lot of handsome, not to mention he’s rich. That corporation of his owns most of the fast food chains here in the city and the Olana Pizzeria.”
“Even Olana?” Sasha asked. She whistled in awe. “Wow, this guy’s freaking loaded.”
“More importantly, you’re his type,” Jane reminded. “Maybe you can date him and get a permanent upgrade. Quit your job, be his wife and live forever in a nice mansion? You can hire me to be your secretary just so I can live there too.”
Sasha and Jane both laughed at the thought but there was some truth in it. They both wanted to find men that could provide for them. Jane worked at a strip club and Sasha was working two jobs; she was a barista in a cafe and a waitress in a fast food corner. They were already twenty-seven years old and working full-time, underpaying jobs was not going to work out for them in the long run.
A long time ago, Sasha dreamed of being an actress. She even wanted to get into pornography. She’d get all the sex she wanted and get paid for it too. It might have even helped her become a model. Back in those days, however, she also had to worry about the rent and all her bills so waiting tables became a priority. It just stayed that way for a decade.
But this was a fantasy.
“As if someone this bad would ever find me interesting,” Sasha said.
Jane waved a finger in front of Sasha’s face, “Never say never, girl. You’re his type and you’re not afraid to get down and dirty on a guy. I’ve seen you play with boys before. You damn fucked Charlie in his living room, grinding on his lap, even when there were others dancing and getting drunk all over the place.”
“One, that was a party,” Sasha replied as a grin broke across her face. “Two, it was Charlie. Everybody knew his parties involved alcohol and sex. I could be a little slutty there. With this guy, I ain’t that sure.”
“He’s into BDSM,” Jane pointed out. “That’s like the most obvious sign right there.”
“He’s into it but that doesn’t mean that’s him all day and all night. He might be expecting some prim and proper girl wearing a $2,000 dress or something. I can’t afford to even dress up to impress him.”
Jane wrapped an arm around her friend, “What do you mean dress up? All you got to do is make him look while you take your shirt off. If his cock gets hard then you’ve already won the battle.”
Sasha looked at the profile again. His name was Damian Rivers.
“What’s there to lose?” Jane asked.
“What’s there to lose,” Sasha echoed as she clicked on his page and began typing a message.
Chapter Two
“I don’t know about this,” Sasha told Jane as they sat in the latter’s car. Sasha was wearing a black, shoulderless mini-dress and four-inch high heels. Her hair was straightened and let loose behind her and she wore large, circular dangling earrings.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jane asked. “Bitch, you’re fucking gorgeous. All you got to do is stand in front of him and his dick will fly off. I promise.”
Sasha still didn’t feel that comfortable. She wasn’t so scared about him being a well-to-do rich boy- most of the boys they dated from these sites were rich men anyway - but she was uneasy about him being into BDSM.
“I just have this fear that I’m too vanilla for him,” Sasha tried to explain.
Jane scoffed at the idea and replied, “You? Vanilla? Girl, you’re the most daring little bundle of ass I’ve ever seen. He’ll have his hands full with you.”
Sasha laughed and then opened her door. She took one step out, looked back at Jane, then said “Wish me luck.”
“Fuck you,” Jane said and laughed.
Sasha winked back at her friend and then got out of the car. She looked at the glass double doors ahead of her, took a moment to breathe, and then walked in. She was immediately greeted by a female usher in a black suit.
“Hello ma’am, to whom is the reservation named to?” the usher asked.
“Oh, uh Sasha Byron. The reservation is under Damian Rivers,” Sasha answered.
The expression on the usher’s face quickly shifted. Where earlier she apparently did not care all too much about Sasha, she now seemed to give her full attention.
“Ah yes,” the usher stated. “Master Damian is already here waiting for you. He’s seated in the balcony. Please follow me.”
Gears began to grind in Sasha’s head. Master Damian? He had his own balcony table too? She tried to push the questions out of her mind and simply followed the young lady through the restaurant.
The Golden Brickhouse was one of the oldest fine dining restaurants in the city. She’d never been in it either but from the few quick glances she took at the tables she could tell this was likely a three-star Michelin restaurant. A single dish might cost over $300. She shuddered to think what a full course meal would cost her. It was a good thing Damian agreed to pay for this date.
She was led up a beautiful case of stairs, onto the second floor. She could see there were several balconies, with their entrances shrouded by thick, maroon curtains. The usher led her across several of these before taking her to the fourth balcony on the right side of the restaurant.
“Master Rivers, Lady Sasha Athens for you,” the usher introduced as she opened the curtains without stepping inside. With her other hand, the usher motioned for Sasha to enter, to which she did.
Sasha felt the usher close the curtains from behind and then walk away. She was then left alone, in that balcony, with Damian. He sat there, across the lone table on the balcony, staring at her. He looked exactly like the way he appeared in the dating site: dark hair, dark brown eyes, five o’clock bristles of a beard and a perfect square jaw. He was like a living, breathing mannequin. He was perfection in human form.
Without a word, he raised his hand motioned for her to sit across him.
Sasha took a seat and then smiled at him. She bit her lip, hoping he liked the way she looked and how she dressed. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Damian answered. His voice was not how she imagined. It was rougher, coarser and a little deeper than she thought it would be. His tone reminded her of a young Clint Eastwood, like in “A Fistful of Dollars.”
“I already ordered us food and wine,” he told her as he pointed to their glasses already filled with a deep red drink. “I do hope you like something red and a little sweet. Is lamb okay with you? I do hope you’re not a vegetarian.”
Sasha shook her head, “I’m not, don’t worry. Anything you give is fine by my book.”
“Really now?” Damian asked. She noticed he rarely blinked and always had his gaze set straight to her face. It was like he wanted to lock his gaze with hers but she couldn’t help it and constantly looked down.
“Y-yeah,” Sasha told him. “I didn’t eat much today, so I’ll take whatever you got. This place looks really expensive though.”
Damian grinned. She looked up briefly and saw a devilish glimmer in his eyes.
“Don’t worry about the cost,” he told her. He took a sip from his glass. “I just want to really get to know you more.”
He seemed like a very square gentleman. Sasha looked at him more closely and managed to smile at him. She felt shy but also intrigued. This was when she remembered his unique hobby and reminded herself to always be a little vigilant. His words could cut right through her.
“I wasn’t even sure you’d reply to my message,” she told him. “I mean, a guy like you, you could get anything and an
yone you wanted.”
“A guy like me?” Damian asked.
Sasha nodded and took a sip from her drink. It was sweet but it also burned quite strongly in her chest. “You’re a billionaire. Don’t women fall to the floor naked in front of you just for you to give them a moment’s notice?”
“Would you?”
“I date old men when I’m broke, so you tell me,” she answered.
Damian still kept his gaze on her, “So why me? I’m only thirty years old. Sure, I’ve got money but I’m not as desperate yet as the old geezers.”
“You’re dangerous,” Sasha had to be honest. “Money can come later. The thrill is what turned me on in the first place. I know what your hobby is, Mr. Rivers, and I want to be the girl that you can honestly say didn’t break. I want to be the one to say you made love to me without tying me to your bed.”
Damian laughed hard. “Have you ever been dominated before, Ms. Byron?”
She shook her head. “I’ve seen videos. Leather outfits, straps, soft whipping, gag balls, masks and other toys. The beauty of the fetish is lost to me.”
“Sad,” he told her. “The beauty of the fetish is that even though you are tied down and gagged, it is you being served and not I.”
That sounded like a weird oxymoron of some sorts.
Before Sasha could figure it out, the waiter arrived and delivered their first course of the night. Sasha’s eyes grew wide when she saw the artful manner that her shrimp was prepared. It was a thing of wonder and it made her doubt if she should frame it instead of eat it.
“So tell me, Ms. Byron,” Damian then said before taking a taste of his dish. “Would you be open to a bet?”
She cocked her head in honest intrigue.
“I’ll give you a week,” he told her. “Let me do what I do best. If after a week you haven’t broken to my will, I will financially support you for the rest of your life. If you do break, you will become mine, permanently.”
“Permanently?”
Damian smiled. “Permanently,” he repeated. “For me to do as I wish.”
Chapter Three
His reception hall and living room were twice the size of her house. She could barely fit her small car in her garage while his could fit her room, four cars and maybe a motorcycle or two. She marveled at all the expensive silverware on display, the large vases in the corners and some of the classical paintings hanging on the walls.
Yet there was something oddly strange with the way Damian kept his manor. It appeared a little cold, as if he didn’t even live there. A sort of distant aura pervaded the entire place and it felt like no one had lived there for a long time. She looked at Damian as he led her through his home, holding her hand, and she saw someone who was looking at the environment from the outside.
“Something amiss?” he asked when he noticed her staring at him.
She shook her head, “Not really, no. I just felt a little weird coming here. It seems like it’s someone else’s home, not yours. I mean, I know it’s yours but it just doesn’t really feel that way, you know? It feels like you’re-”
“-looking at it like a guest and not like someone who actually lives here?” he finished his sentence. “Yes, I get that feeling too.”
“You do? But this is your home.”
Damian shrugged. He took her down a flight of stairs, leading them to the basement, and explained “I didn’t grow up here. When I was around four or five years old my mother took me to London. We traveled a lot since then, always relocating every other year or so.”
“That’s hard,” Sasha said, her voice low and melancholic. “Why though? I mean, your family obviously has the money to just stay and be stable in one area.”
He paused for a minute, looked back at her then gave a grin. As she looked into his eyes she sensed he was hiding some level of sadness with that expression on his face.
“My dad is rich,” he answered just as he began heading down the basement hallway and towards a large oakwood double door. “My mom… not so much. She wasn’t really his wife, you see, but they didn’t let the world know that. The world thought she was just my caretaker and that’s what the family, even my father, always said.”
That was a little too heavy for Sasha to hear. She just couldn’t even think about what she would do if she went through that kind of experience. It made her wonder if Damian felt some kind of anger against his father, perhaps which could be why he didn’t feel so comfortable in his manor.
Damian then paused in front of the doors. He let go of her hand and turned around to give her a good look. For a fleeting second, Sasha felt a little exposed. Maybe it was the wine starting to swirl in her head or maybe it was just the uneasy feeling she had willingly gone with this stranger into his home and down into his basement.
“The first step is to trust me,” he whispered as he held onto her arms. She felt the weight of his hands and thought of what it might feel like to have his hands caressing her body, squeezing her breasts or even being rough, slapping her ass while he plowed into her body. It was a strange thing to imagine but she quickly reminded herself where she was. At that point her imagination sort of seemed appropriate.
“Trust you?” Sasha had to ask. “I don’t even really know you. We just met three hours ago.”
Damian smiled and caressed her cheek with his hand. It was honestly quite reassuring and she could not help but shut her eyes and just soak in the moment.
“Let me give you a piece of advice, before I open this door,” he told her. His fingers danced on her cheek and she took a step closer towards him. With his other arm he gently embraced her. “Trust everyone but never let your guard down. It’s like what businessmen often say: hope for the best but prepare for the worst.”
Sasha bit down on her lip and looked up into his eyes as she said, “I’ll trust you. I do want to make a few things clear though.”
“Better say ‘em quick before we open these doors,” Damian told her.
“Definitely no back door,” Sasha said firmly. It wasn’t that she didn’t have some fun having anal sex but she wasn’t open to doing it with a complete stranger. “Whatever you do, don’t get me pregnant. Lastly, nothing too dangerous or risky.”
Damian’s eyes flickered with a burning passion and he responded to her requests with a wicked grin. “All three conditions taken into consideration. Don’t worry my dear, just step into the velvet room with me and forget all that you know about the world outside. In here, no one judges you for being what you are.”
“Which is?”
“A creature of the highest form of pleasure,” he answered and opened the doors.
Sasha’s eyes grew wide when she saw what awaited her in the next room. There was a large, king-sized bed with beautiful red comforters but everything else looked like they belonged in a dungeon instead of a bedroom. She saw strangely designed stockades, drawers that were open and filled with all kinds of sex toys and she a spot on the wall where she could be cuffed and chained. In the middle of the ceiling she saw a rig which she could only assume was meant for hoisting her up with ropes or chains.
“Come,” he said and pulled her by the hand before she could even utter a single response.
Damian brought her to the bed. He sat down by the edge and directed her to stand just two feet in front of him, like he was observing her or something.
“Yes?” she asked as he continued to look her up. “Do I pass your beauty standards or something?”
“Think of a very unique word, one you would never say during sex.”
That struck her slightly off guard. “Huh?”
“Think of a word you would never say while fucking someone,” he repeated, this time with a stronger emphasis on his cuss words. “When a woman says ‘no’ while in this room, it doesn’t really mean anything. The word ‘no’ is part of the game. So in order to let me know you really want to check out I need to hear something unique. ‘Tokyo’ or even something bizarre as ‘alligator’ are fine. Once I hear you
say something like that, I’ll immediately stop and you can go home.”
Sasha stood there for a minute, thinking about something she could say quickly and easily in case she wanted to leave. Since ‘no’ was off the table she needed something that was just one syllable in length and also easy to utter even when having sex. Sasha figured she might want something that didn’t need her mouth open since he might gag her.
“How about ‘mercy’?” she asked. At least it was a word she could reasonably say even if he gagged her or kept her mouth wide open. She’d never confuse it with ‘no’ and it was easy enough for both of them to remember.
“That’s a perfect safe word,” Damian said. He then removed his shoes, slowly and carefully, and neatly tucked them underneath the bed. He took off his socks and rolled them into balls before tucking them underneath as well. She watched as he undid the cuffs of his shirt and loosened his belt a little bit.
“What should I do?” Sasha asked. “Uh, should I take off my clothes as well?”
He shook his head, “Hush, little girl, do not try to rush things. For now, take everything off except for your blouse and panties.”
Sasha did as she was told. She began with her skirt and then her shoes and socks. For a moment she was unsure if he also meant for her to remove her bra but since he specifically mentioned her panties she decided to remove her bra as well. The smile on his face when he saw her remove the clasps indicated she had figured things out correctly.
“Now,” he said as he pulled her closer, “let’s begin.”
Chapter Four
Damian pulled her to the bed and guided her so she could lie face down on the bed. She did not look back but felt the mattress shift as he moved about and then he took her hands and pulled them behind her. Before she could even utter a word she felt him take a cord and cuff her hands together. He then took another pair of cuffs, one with a steel rod in between, and then locked it around her arms, just above the elbows.
