The Invitation (BDSM & Erotic Romance)

by Jennifer Bene

  Time to work.

  Chemical bonds. Saif had kissed her when Grant – Regioselectivity. Professor Stanton. He had said he wanted to fuck her. No one said things like that to her. How had she only written two-thousand words? She’d been writing for hours. Saif had said she was meant for another party. Cara had meant to borrow that book on this section. What party did he mean? This paper would go so much faster with that book. What would he do with her, to her, if she called?

  A moment later she had lunged for the clutch she’d carried the night before and dumped it on the bed, pulling out the unique little business card and reading the phone number off the back.

  Automated ringing trilled over the line. Her body tense with nerves.

  A soothing female voice spoke clearly, “Thank you for your call. Please leave a message after the tone.” A soft beep sounded.

  “Um, hi.” Cara rolled her eyes at how awkward she already sounded, where had the sex goddess gone? Saif had obviously taken her with him. “It’s Cara, um, I’m Cara. I met Saif last night, and he told me to call.” She hated how nervous she sounded, but she forced herself to rattle off her address and phone number twice and then she hung up. For a moment she just stared at the phone in her hand. What had she done? She sat for a long time waiting for the phone to ring, as if Saif had been waiting for her call. As if she was important enough for someone to –

  The phone rang. The Black Keys pulsing out of the tiny speaker as she stared at it in shock. Pressing the answer button she fumbled and raised it to her ear, “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon,” a pleasant female voice, like an executive secretary from a movie, “Is this Cara?”

  “Um, yes. Yes, I’m – this is Cara.” Smooth.

  “Wonderful. Before we move forward with anything, there is a survey we need you to respond to. Do you have about twenty minutes?” The smooth voice was clinical, detached, but professionally polite.

  “Okay.” Cara tapped the return key on her keyboard a few times watching the blinking black cursor hop down from line to line.

  “Thank you.” The sound of shuffling papers filled the line and then the woman’s pleasant voice was back. “To make this go as quickly as possible please give me one of three answers to anything I mention. ‘Yes’ means that you are comfortable with it or are willing to do it. ‘Education’ means you need to know more, and to potentially try it, before deciding, but that you’re not opposed to it. Of course, ‘no’, means it will be on your limits list, and it will not happen. Understood?”

  “Yes.” Cara’s stomach tightened.

  “Please remember, honesty is all we ask. Dishonesty may lead to an elimination of further contact. Is that understood?” The woman’s voice was crisp.

  “Yes, I understand, I won’t lie.” She started to tap a pen on her textbook, her nerves making her fidget.

  “Wonderful. Let’s begin. Are you comfortable with receiving oral sex?” The woman’s voice hadn’t changed but Cara’s pen froze. Had the woman really just asked her that? Had Meredith had to answer these questions?

  “Um…”

  “Miss?” The woman prompted her.

  “Sorry, yes.” Who would turn down oral sex?

  “Performing oral sex?” Cara blushed at the question and leaned back in her chair.

  “Yes.”

  “Vaginal intercourse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anal intercourse?” Again, the woman sounded almost bored as she read off the questions. Cara panicked. “Miss?” The woman prompted. Cara had never tried it, she knew about it. Knew people who had tried it, and liked it.

  Cara tried to remind herself - did she want to be boring, or did she want to be someone new? “Um, ed- education?”

  The questions continued quickly after that, and as they progressed further they became more and more obscure. She said ‘yes’ to spanking, she’d tried that before and liked it. But the other tools and words the woman rang off were answered more and more often with ‘education’. Cara felt foolish, ignorant, childish, prude. Was she supposed to know about all of this? Were these normal questions?

  And why did half of the things she said cause Cara to squirm in her seat, imagining Saif’s hands on her?

  Suddenly the woman stopped her rapid-fire questions and made a thinking noise, “I do believe those are all of the questions that were requested. I will submit your responses. If there is a next step, we will contact you.” Then the line clicked. It was over, and Cara just stared at the phone in her hand as her mouth went dry at the memory of some of the things the woman had read off.

  Cara felt even more wound up, and the rapping of nails at her door made her jump. Meredith was standing there, an example of perfection. Beautiful clothes that looked tailored to fit her, make-up and hair done. She leaned against the doorframe with a smile. “Was that the interview?”

  “I think so. Did they ask you… questions?” Cara hated the heat in her cheeks. Why couldn’t she be like Meredith? Confident, brazen, sexual without apology.

  “The sex things? Yeah, they just need a profile on you, Cara.” She tilted her head, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder like she’d planned it. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. But once they know what you’re okay with, that’s when you get the invitations.”

  Invitations.

  Meredith laughed, “Oh my God, Cara, you didn’t even open the envelope.” She walked over to Cara’s desk and pulled the thick envelope the driver had handed her from underneath a textbook. Meredith moved over to her and pulled the flap open and revealed the one hundred dollar bills tucked inside.

  “Holy shit.” Cara’s mouth dropped open as she grabbed it from Meredith’s hands.

  “Fifteen hundred dollars. I didn’t lie, Cara!” Meredith was chuckling and messing with things on her desk, which normally would have annoyed Cara, but she was too distracted with the idea that she could almost pay off her credit card. For one night.

  One night with Saif, her head prompted.

  Or maybe that thought came from much lower.

  “I had forgotten all about the money.” Cara mumbled and dropped the envelope into her lap.

  “You forgot all about the money, but you still called the number?” Meredith was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Who did you meet last night?”

  Cara didn’t hear anything for the rest of the day, and once Meredith was done grilling her and had left to meet up with friends, Cara was once again left alone with her brain.

  Her confidence came and went in waves that night and the next morning. One moment she was remembering Saif’s words in her ear, describing everything he wanted to do to her and she felt beautiful, sexy, powerful, strong. The next moment she was looking at her pathetic wardrobe of sweat pants and running clothes, and wondering how the hell she’d ever gone to the party in the first place. Then it was Grant’s eyes, his body leaning over hers to press her harder against Saif. The memory of both of their hands touching her sent her head reeling, and then in a moment of distraction she found her fingers tracing the path Saif’s had taken. Rolling her clit, dipping inside her, and she was soaking at only the memory of the pleasure he had brought to her not once, but twice.

  Just as doubts were creeping back in, The Black Keys blared from her cell phone. She abandoned all hope of pleasuring herself for the morning, and rolled over to grab her phone off the charger. She hit answer and flopped back on her pillow with a huff. “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Cara. Hmmm, you do not sound like a morning person.” Saif’s voice thrummed over the line. Perfect, cultured, smooth and purring. Her heart rate went triple time as she tried to remember how to talk.

  “I haven’t had coffee yet?” Cara squeaked, and his low laugh rumbled over the phone.

  “Ah, well, from what I’ve seen… Cara at night is more than enough to make up for pre-caffeine Cara.” Saif’s voice filled her up. He should teach lessons in how to make women feel incredible, because those few words erased the doubts t
hat had been eating at her. She once again felt like she could do anything. Would do anything.

  Anything to see Saif again.

  Shut up, brain.

  But her body agreed, she wanted his hands on her again. She wanted to let go again, to let her body guide her for once instead of being so focused on what was right or wrong.

  “Um, thank you.” Cara was definitely not anywhere near as smooth, but Saif didn’t seem to care.

  “Your survey was enlightening.” He didn’t waste time with small talk, did he? Just the idea of him reading her answers, and the number of times she had said ‘education’ made her blush.

  “H- how?” She stumbled over the word, focusing on some of the more embarrassing topics she had responded to.

  “You are so fresh and new, I can’t imagine that someone hasn’t introduced you to half of this.” A low groan, “Why wouldn’t someone take the opportunity?”

  “I’m, um, I’m sorry if I’m not what you – or your company – or, whatever, need. I –“

  “Stop.” Saif’s voice brooked no argument, and she found herself sitting up in bed waiting on edge for what he’d say next. “Do you know what happens with girls like you, if no one finds them, if no one really sees them, if no one ever shows them what they’re capable of?”

  Cara sighed and rolled her eyes, “They’re boring.”

  “No. They’re bored.” Saif sounded stern, like he was correcting her for a mistake in a class. “They want more, but they don’t know what more is because no one has shown them. This, what I’m opening a door to, this is the something more. And Cara, if you’re willing, I’d love to be the one to show it to you.”

  Heat flushed her from chest to forehead, her head spun because those words were incredible. It was like Saif had a way to see inside her mind, to know exactly how she felt, and he put it more eloquently than she ever could. Just the idea that Saif wanted to touch her, wanted to be the one to let her explore whatever the fuck this was made her want to jump feet first.

  “Yes.” The word was out of her mouth while her brain was still processing her excitement, her satisfaction, at hearing his analysis of who she was.

  “Thank you, Cara. For trusting me enough at the party, and even more so to make the phone call yesterday.” His voice dropped to a growl, “You have no idea how much I wanted to see your name on the call list.”

  “So, I called this company? Aphrodisia Limited?” Cara was toying with the card for the millionth time. She had folded the corners down, chewed on the edge of it, and basically decimated it in her obsession with thinking about what he could want from her.

  “Yes, you did. AL is my company, well, partly mine. And I’d love to have you as an employee. Now, Meredith may have explained that there is no contractual obligation on either side of this. You can refuse an invitation at any time, and we can cease to send them. An invitation is a one night agreement.”

  “For fifteen hundred dollars.” Cara’s eyes tracked to the envelope on her desk, which she was still worried would somehow disappear.

  Saif laughed low. “Actually, the party I have in mind for you pays twenty-five hundred dollars.”

  “What?” More money?

  “Yes. It’s a different setting than the parties that Meredith is on invite lists for.” There he mentioned again the other party that Cara was meant for.

  “What is so different? Can I still, um, refuse someone? If I wanted to?” Her nerves were fraying as she seriously talked about this. Whatever this was. But Saif had called her, and she wanted to see him again, wanted to do again whatever had happened a couple of nights before. She wanted to feel that alive again.

  “Of course you can refuse someone. None of this, at all, is against the will of anyone involved. Our number one priority at AL is the safety of our employees. Number two, is the privacy of our clients.” Saif’s voice took on an edge, “But if anyone crossed a line, I’d take great pleasure in destroying them for hurting one of mine.” Cara wasn’t sure why that made her thighs press together, or why she was suddenly aware of how wet she was – but it did, and she was soaked.

  “That’s comforting,” Cara paused, her breaths uneven as she continued with a short laugh, “- even though I’m still unsure of what this is.”

  “Let’s just say we provide opportunities for all parties involved to freely address their sexual desires in an environment that is secure and anonymous. Our employees don’t risk their health and wellness, our clients don’t risk messy paparazzi fiascos or complicated police involvement if someone gets angry after a break up.”

  “So it will be like the party from before?” Visions of Grant above her, holding her legs apart while Saif brought her to orgasm with skill – all while a variety of sex acts played out within eyesight – filled her head.

  “That party was about no control. People letting go completely and following with group think, letting their passion take over and make decisions.” She could almost imagine Saif shrugging gracefully as he paused, “You are capable of so much more, and this party would let you explore that, both the things you said ‘yes’ to and some you asked to be ‘educated’ on. Although I must say… I was impressed with you at the first party, and it took a lot of restraint to hold back from what I wanted to do with you.”

  Why did you hold back?

  She wanted to ask, wanted to be the kind of girl that could ask that confidently, wanted to be the girl who could admit to wanting him to come to her apartment and fuck her so she could find out if he was as good in other ways as he was with his hands.

  Instead she asked, “And the party you want me for?”

  “I wouldn’t have to hold back.” His words seemed to pull the floor out from under her. She was falling into an abyss. A dark place where all those rules she had learned growing up didn’t exist, society’s regulations had no sway, and what made her a good girl was whatever Saif asked of her.

  She wanted him to call her ‘good girl’ again.

  “I –“

  “I apologize if I’ve come across a little strong, I haven’t been this tempted in a while, and I’m very interested to see if I’m right about the party.” Saif was tempted by her? What planet was she on? “We are still finalizing details, but you will receive an invitation with the requested attire for the evening. Please follow any directions that come with the attire. Anything provided to you is yours to keep after the party, someone will arrive at your address today to take your measurements.”

  “Okay.” This felt insane.

  “AL provides all of the transportation. A car will always pick you up from your apartment, take you to the party, and then back home. If you choose to leave with a client, it will be in one of our cars, and that car will wait outside of the client’s home until you want to leave.” Saif sounded deadly serious, and she was more than a little impressed by the security that was already in place.

  “I really don’t think I’d leave with someone?” Her voice was shaky, adrenaline making her heart race, her body thrum with the idea of a client wanting to take her home, wanting to do more with her than they were willing to do at the club. Which, prior to Cara’s survey call, she would have been pretty sure was impossible after the first party.

  Now? Now, she had a larger vocabulary.

  “The system is in place either way. Oh, and if you do ever leave with a client the NDA isn’t optional. The driver will hand you a non-disclosure agreement that acknowledges you will not speak of or reference any contact with the client, and you have to sign it or there is no leaving.” Saif sounded like he was lecturing her.

  “I understand, I promise.” Cara felt like she was in trouble, and for a brief moment she had a delicious image in her head of Saif bending her over and spanking her.

  It’s just because that woman asked about spanking.

  “Brilliant. Well, those are the things I wanted to cover with you. Any questions for me?” His voice was so calm, as if he hadn’t just given her the guidelines for going home with so
me random guy.

  Like Grant?

  Touché, brain.

  “I, uh –“ her mouth froze around the words, around what she wanted to say. Then something sparked inside her and she forced them out, “When will I see you again?” Somehow, she didn’t sound ridiculous or desperate when she asked.

  “Oh, little one, if you think I’d miss your first night at a class four party I must have been more subtle than I thought when we were on that couch together.” His laugh flushed her with heat, “The next time we see each other I’ll make sure my intentions are more clear.”

  “Okay.” A voice inside her screamed to keep talking, to say something clever, or sexy, or seductive. To tell him she wanted him. To tell him she wanted whatever he had planned for her because she’d never felt more alive, and less boring, and more real. Instead, she heard him let out a breath against the receiver.