In Service To The Billionaire (7 page)

On her computer, reading and re-reading Sand's sexy message, she noticed that Todd had sent her some email or another.

Ugh, whatever. She didn't even bother opening it. As far as she knew, it would just be more nebulously shitty ideas about the future which may or may not include her. Past behavior, she knew, was the best indicator for future behavior...and Todd's past behavior had left her scarred and burned.

If she was going to focus on something she couldn't control completely, it may as well be on trying to get someone to control her.

Using her phone, she posed in her small bedroom and took several different photos of herself in the hot little outfit she had put together just for him.

Near the back of her closet, mostly unused, she had her “little black dress.” Sleeveless and tight, it had a keyhole opening framing her expansive cleavage—supported by a lacy black bra. The hemline ended well above her knees, transitioning sexily into tight smoky-dark stockings with little dark flowers patterned down to the coup-de-grace, expensive four-inch pump heels with red bottoms.

She took shots of her hot stocking-clad legs rubbing against each other. Her devastatingly high heels, precariously balanced on one another. Her earrings, danging down and shining brightly against the dark mass of her perfectly arranged hair. Her cleavage, one small drip of perfectly aroused sweat sliding down her chest and balancing on the luscious curve of her tit. Her sexy gold choker necklace, dangling so close to the delicate muscles of her neck—almost like a collar.

She took hundreds of pictures...and over the course of a glass of wine and a few hours, whittled that number down to twelve.

With a deliberately long breath, she attached all the messages and pressed send, and let him have all of it.

Along with it she wrote a message:

ExecStud,

I completely agree—you should be able to see what I look like. But I should be able to see what you look like as well. I love the look of you in that suit. Is there any way I could get a glimpse of any of the parts underneath? Your rockhard abs, or your rockhard chest, or your rockhard...other things?

But just to prove to you that I’m not all talk, here are some bits of me for you to enjoy.

If you have any requests, just let me know
.
I'm very happy to dress how you like.

Your

subvixen

For the rest of the weekend, she planned out a whole progression of outfits for the next week, continually pushing the issue of Todd's email out of her mind.

* * * * *

On Monday, following her plan, she wore a tight navy blue business suit with a tight, brief pencil skirt running just over her knees. Along with that, she wore the jewelry from the picture—stud earrings and her tight choker necklace. It was not a common sort of necklace, but not completely unusual.

Still, Sand eyed it curiously when he saw it on her Monday morning as she delivered his coffee.

“That's an interesting piece,” he told her. “On your neck.”

“This?” Sophia smiled. “My old boyfriend gave it to me.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

Sophia smiled—she had hoped he would asked.

“I did. Not anymore.”

She strutted out of the room elaborately, letting him ponder that.

On Tuesday, she wore a tight navy suit jacket top with skintight leather leggings. By now, she was easily pushing the boundaries of good taste...but she didn't care. She figured if he fired her for being too sexy, then that was the perfect excuse to let him know that it had all been for him. From the photos she took, she wore the tall black heels with the red bottoms.

That caught his attention all right. Those heels were over five hundred dollars—an incredibly expensive birthday gift from Todd, in fact, a few weeks after their engagement. He never once complimented them on her.

“You’re looking sharp today, Sophia,” Sand said to her, as she strutted in and dropped off a stack of paperwork for him to sign. “I don’t want it to seem as though I’m not noticing the effort you’re putting in.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Sir,” she said, her voice a soft, easy purr. “I’m so glad to be...sharp.”

Perhaps out of someone else’s mouth that would have sounded strange or silly. But the way Sophia held her clipboard so close to her chest, and the way that she let the word slide longways out of her mouth guaranteed that Sand at least knew she had other things on her mind.

Her smiles became easy, sultry, and permanent. She wanted him to know that she was in a good mood around him—that she was, in fact, just generally happy. Who wanted to be with someone who was down all the time?

Besides her, of course, wanting to be with Sand. But that was different. His mood would improve once she was sucking his cock regularly behind his desk. A nice little blowjob with every little drop of coffee he took down. Wouldn't that be nice?

She could just spread his muscled thighs, let his hot blond pubic hair tickle her nose, and engorge herself on his fat, incredible cock...

In the afternoon, she caught him working out, delivering paperwork that she had described as “urgent.” The hardness of his muscles, the gripping tightness of his frame, the way his veins popped and the sweat gleaned on his skin...all of it stuck in her head. He caught her staring. She didn't care, and just flashed him another happy, sultry smile.

At home, Tuesday night, she fingered herself furiously, thinking of his hot, amazing frame and all the ways she could convince him to look at her tight body.

On Wednesday, she wore a tight peach jacket with an incredibly open blouse. Any time that she bent forward, it was possible to see the lacy black lines of her nearly translucent bra—the same bra from the photos she sent. Her earrings were from the photos as well—and she was almost certain he picked up on them.

She walked into his office, holding a few forms for him to examine.

“Finished yet?”

“Of course, Sir. I just had one question,” she said, bending over toward him just as she had fingered her pussy thinking about the night before, “Did I fill this out correctly? I’m so worried that I made a mistake. I apologize for asking, as I know you’re so busy, but I got a little mixed up.”

Her breasts, overflowing from her blouse, pressed warmly against each other. On display, just for him. The thin fabric around their heavy flesh strained. Locks of her long, dark hair slid down her face, framing the sexy gap they created.

“No,” he said, clearly only staring down her cleavage. Her breasts so pert, so firm and together. “No, that looks good. Well done.”

“Oh, that’s terrific.”

She stood up, tossing her long hair back.

“Are those earrings from your old boyfriend as well?” he asked her, a coy smile on his face.

“These?” she shook her head. “No, these were for myself, to find a new boyfriend. Do you think they'll work?”

“I suppose you'll find out, won't you?”

“I certainly hope so...Sir.”

The whole exchange was so brilliantly hot and filled with sexual tension that Sophia had no idea how she didn't run to the bathroom and dip her fingers into her pussy right then and there.

But, the plan for that day wasn't over yet.

Wednesday was also to be the day she attempted her first “full bend.”

Right then, as she stepped out of the room, she “clumsily” dropped all her papers. So she got down on her knees in a somewhat unladylike fashion, her cleavage facing Sand. The tight pull of her blouse just pressed her sumptuous breasts even harder together, creating an even more dramatically sexy valley.

Then, all gathered up, she straightened out her graceful legs—bent over at the waist to gather up just a few more items from off the floor after doing so, letting him get a good long look at her terrific behind—and straightened up, shaking her long hair out. Her shiny locks sparkled in the light of the room, her statuesque form on display.

She couldn’t possibly look at him, her face was filled with too much open lust. But just as she closed the door, she could have sworn she heard a long, troubled sigh from the other end of the office.

That night, once she got home to her apartment and opened up her laptop, she found that Sand wrote her back.

subvixen,

As we are oh-so-fond of coyness, here is a coy shot of myself, taken just from out the shower.

I like violet on a proper submissive.

Find some. Wear some. Let me see.

-
ExecStud

The photo was of his body—dripping wet—from the top of his chest down to the cusp of his pubic hair. His abs, so ripped and chiseled, the obliques making a tight, svelte v-shape, like an arrow pointing to his cock.

Oh god.

Oh
fuck
.

Within just a few moments, her skirt was down around her ankles, her flimsy panties pushed to the side. Her fingers plunged inside of her pussy, desperate to give her the release she so richly needed.

Her orgasm, fast and overpowering, nearly knocked her out of her chair.

Even for several minutes after she came, she could only slide her thumb up and down her clit, licking her lips, moaning.

“Master...” she called softly. “Masterrrrr...”

Eventually, after a she calmed down enough for her thoughts to clear.

Originally, she had wanted Friday to be her go-for-broke day. But, as she considered that, she remembered that Friday was a holiday—yes, even for Mr. Sand. And so she had to realign her plans accordingly.

The big day had to be Thursday.

Violet? All right, Mr. Sand, Sophia thought. Violet you shall have.

* * * * *

The next morning, she wore a tight minidress, its tiny length almost fit only for a club—barely going past the halfway mark of her long, sumptuous thighs. The portion over her torso was backless, held up by a teensy string around her neck—as well as the eagerly displayed buoyant masses of her tits.

To class it up a bit, she wore a light sweater on top—but the sweater was so clingy, and so tiny, that it was easy to see that it was little more than a paltry impediment to the full enjoyment of Sophia’s amazing body.

Once again, smoky dark stockings decorated her legs, made purely for drawing gazes away from her sensational chest—as if to say, “hey, I’ve got some killer legs too, fellas.”

It amused her, how easily she had gotten caught up in wearing so many hot outfits, how much confidence it filled her with. It seemed like what had been holding her confidence back all these years wasn’t her looks, or her body, or anything like that—it was just the willingness to put herself out there for men to see her and admire her.

Maybe, if Todd had been more open to her desires, such a confidence boost would have arrived ages ago.

Sizing herself up in the mirror, she gave a gentle shrug. Who cared what Todd thought? The jerk. He was missing out on all the fun, now.

To that end, she wore boots. Hot, skintight knee-length boots with four inch stiletto heels. They had little violet buckles.

And, taking a breath, she stepped out of her apartment and into the rest of her life.

Chapter 10

The advantage of taking her escalation in outfits somewhat slowly—and being attractive anyway—was that dressing as she did that day didn’t draw too many stares.

Well, not
too
many—but “too many” was a constantly moving yard line with her. She found herself starting to enjoy being looked at as an object.

She noted with satisfaction several handsome fellows on her walk from the parking garage in the Johnson Chrome Building taking long, eager stares at her bared legs and the sweet valley of cleavage formed by her tight dress. As she strutted into her elevator, Sophia put a little extra sway into her ass, letting them want her all the more.

It was so
hot
, knowing even without looking that they were all drifting toward the elevator, watching her body. It was so hot, knowing that they would be stroking their cocks later thinking about her.

And it was so very especially hot knowing that she had done all this, gathered all this attention, just for one man in particular.

During the past week, the attention hadn't been restricted solely to the parking garage, of course. There were plenty of hot-blooded men in the office. Just yesterday, all the married guys from accounting all begged her for a date, only half-joking. This was part of a growing trend.

Even though she hadn’t paid them too much mind, over the past few days, lots of the guys in the office had started staring at Sophia—paying extra attention as she bent over to deliver the mail, her bountiful cleavage on display, or their shoulders and heads perking upward when they heard the click of her heels on the tile floor.

Just like with the men on the bus, it was hard to say she didn’t enjoy the attention. Obviously, she wanted to be taken seriously for the job she was doing. But at the same time...she
was
dressing up for male attention. It was just, again, for a very specific male.

So, over the course of the past week, when Fred from communications or Antonio from Sales started showing up at her desk at all times of the day for the most obvious of excuses—do you want any coffee when I step out for five seconds? Do you like bagels? There’s a bagel place just twenty minutes up the road from where I get lunch, and I don't mind getting you one—well, when that nonsense happened, Sophia noticed.

None of that was happening today, however. The second she walked into the office, Everyone was frantic—making calls, tossing files from one desk to another, holding up worn-out pieces of papers in their hands and waving them like flags.

Julie, lost in a sea of phone calls, saw Sophia and of course her outfit, and gave her a slightly bemused look. Sophia didn’t think she was getting anything past Julie. There was a lady who had been around the block too many times to have anything put past her.

But, Sophia didn’t really care.

She wanted Sand—and today, she was sure he would come to her and hold her down just how she wanted.