At His Command: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 3 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

BOOK: At His Command: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 3 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)
7.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

At His
Command (The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 3)

 

By
Delilah Fawkes

 
 
 

Have you
ever had one of those moments where something so strange and fantastic is
happening to you, that you wonder if you’re dreaming? One of those moments that
is so surreal, so unlike anything in your ordinary life that you’re positive
it’s a fantasy? But then you pinch yourself. The pain grounds you, and you
realize it’s really happening.

Your life
is changing forever.

This is
exactly how I felt as Mr. Drake led me into his secret dungeon and showed me
what he had in store for me.

For a few
minutes, he let me wander through the room, touching and exploring, asking
myself which things I’d like to try. He watched from the doorway, wearing only
his silk boxers, a knowing grin on his handsome face.

I picked
up a pair of wrist restraints, feeling the suppleness of the leather, longing
for the feel of being helpless before this powerful man. I ran my hands over
the tails of a flog, then picked up a crop, wondering what it would feel like,
laying into me when I was bent over, crying out beneath Mr. Drake’s skillful blows.

The cross
intrigued me the most, and I ran my hands over its dark surface before turning
back to the man watching me closely.

“What is
this thing?”

“It’s
called a St. Andrews cross. If we decided to play with it, I’d lash your wrists
to the top two restraints, and your ankles to the bottom two, leaving you
spread wide and vulnerable, unable to resist whatever I wanted to do to you.”

I
shivered, imagining the kind of things he might do when I was bound and naked
before him, stretched and ready.

He stepped
closer, looming over me.

“Would you
like that, Isabeau? Would you like to be helpless to resist while I bring you
orgasm after orgasm, denying you what you really want until you are begging to
be filled by my cock?”

My eyes
almost rolled back in my head from his words alone.

“Yes…
Sir.”

I wanted
it more than anything.

“Then get
some rest. Tomorrow, you’re mine to do with as I please.”

I groaned
at his words. “But what about work?”

“Isabeau,”
he said, grinning down at me. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

 

***

 

When I
woke, I noticed that my clothes were folded on the trunk on the foot of my
bed
 
, with a note sitting on top in an
elegant hand.

 

I have business in the city to attend
to, but will return as soon as I can.

Please make yourself
comfortable. My house is your house while you stay.

I can’t wait to see you, little
temp.

 

I read the
note over and over again before holding it to my lips. I couldn’t believe this
was happening. The dream was real, and suddenly, I felt like a very naughty
version of Cinderella, living with my kinky Prince Charming.

What’s the first thing a princess to do?
I wondered, then grinned.
She’d explore the castle, of course!

I hadn’t
gotten a good look at my surroundings the night before, but now as I pushed the
door open and padded down the hall in my bare feet, I couldn’t help but be
overwhelmed. Mr. Drake’s home was lushly furnished with thick, soft carpets
cushioning my steps, and gorgeous artwork displayed in every room. I examined
one painting to see if it was a print, but brushstrokes were visible in the
lamplight, as clear as day. An original. How much money did he spend on
something as simple as decorating?

My one
Ikea print hanging over my bed seemed down right sad in comparison. Considering
that was my idea of a splurge item when I moved in said a lot about the
difference between our two worlds. Suddenly, I felt very small, and very out of
place.

The house
was enormous, and it took me awhile to find my way down a back stairwell and
into the kitchen. A stocky blonde woman looked up from behind the granite
counter top and raised a sharp eyebrow at me.

“Miss,
those are the stairs the staff uses. Guests use the grand staircase.”

I blushed,
my face feeling hotter than the noonday sun. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

In fact,
I’d forgotten there
was
a staff. The
chef nodded curtly at me, and went back to chopping vegetables. I sat down
awkwardly on a stool by the counter and wondered what do to next. My stomach
growled.

“May I
make you something, Miss? An omelet? Or perhaps a crepe?”

I smiled
at her. This was all too weird. “Please make me whatever is your favorite.”

She
grinned back, her icy exterior warming at my words. “Right away, Miss.”

We chatted
while she worked, and I soon learned that Katja had worked for Mr. Drake since
he left college, leaving his father’s household for his. When I finally tried
the savory crepe she’d made, my eyes rolled back in my head.

“This may
be the best thing I’ve ever had,” I said, groaning.

The older
woman beamed at me.

“Danke.”

I
attempted to pry information about my sexy and mysterious boss from her between
bites, but she kept her words cheerfully vague. It seemed she didn’t know much
about his personal life at all. He usually sent the staff home early after
they’d prepared dinner, preferring to serve his guests himself.

“Although
he hasn’t brought a beautiful young lady such as yourself home in quite some
time,” she said, her hands on her chef’s apron. “And a shame, too! None of them
have ever complimented my cooking.”

“That’s a
crime,” I said, finishing my last bite and sighing.

“Mr. Drake
should be home any moment. Would you please follow me?”

I jumped
as a gravelly, male voice interrupted our talk. A silver-haired butler stood
behind me, holding a black, wooden box in his hands and looking grave.

“Uh… of
course, Mister…?”

The man
gave a deep bow. “Mr. Daniels, my lady. If you would please follow me?”

I thanked Katja,
and followed him through the winding halls of the house until we were outside
of Mr. Drake’s study, where I’d found him holding my torn shirt the night
before. I tingled with anticipation, wondering when he would appear, and what
he’d do to me in his dungeon when he did.

Mr.
Daniels set the box on a low table by the fire.

“I’ve been
instructed to tell you to please put on the contents of the box, and wait here
for the master’s arrival.”

I nodded,
my pulse thudding in my ears, adrenaline coursing through me. What had he left
me?

“Yes, of
course,” I stuttered. “Thank you very much, Mr. Daniels.”

“Miss.”

He bowed
low again and saw himself out of the room. The door snapped shut behind him.

Curious, I
rushed to open the box. Inside was a crimson garter belt and matching bra, as
well as a couple of devices and a bottle that made me blush. There was also
another note in Mr. Drake’s handwriting.

 
 

Wear
these items and nothing else. The black plug goes in back, and the white in
front. I expect you ready and waiting for me, Isabeau. Do not disappoint me.

 

I stared
down at the box, my mouth hanging open. The idea of being filled completely
intrigued me, but I admit, I was also more than a little nervous. I’d never had
anything in my ass before, and even though the plug before me was small, I
didn’t know how it would feel. Would it hurt?

I slowly
removed my clothes, folding them carefully and setting them aside before
wiggling into the embroidered garter and lacy black stockings. It felt strange
to be wearing all this without panties covering me, but also naughty, leaving
me feeling deliciously exposed. I slipped the bra on, and then picked up the
bottle of lube, biting my lip.

I got on
my knees and took a deep breath, reaching behind me to slide it into position.
Here goes nothing.

When the
plug pushed against my pucker, I gasped at the feel of the cold gel, then at
the sensation of my ring of muscle wrapping around it, accepting it into my
body. It stung a little as I adjusted to the tapered silicone inside me, making
me squirm on the carpet. It felt so wrong doing something like this, but the
feeling made my sex heat and my body tingle all over.

If my
conservative family ever knew I did anything like this, they’d each have a
heartattack before calling my pastor.

I smiled
and reached for the delicate, white vibrator. It was egg shaped and slipped
easily
 
inside of me as my walls squeezed
around it. There was no button or anything that I could see, but the feeling of
these two toys rubbing together through the thin membrane of skin separating
them was almost too much to take.

I waited
there, on my knees, half expecting Mr. Drake to burst in at any moment. I was
so ready for him, I ached, longing for him to take me and show me something I’d
never experienced before. To take me deeper into his world.

The sound
of a key scraping in a lock made me spin around to face the door. Suddenly
embarrassed, I covered my privates, in case it was Mr. Daniels coming back to
check on me. The lock snapped and I could hear footfalls moving away from the
door. I furrowed my brow, frowing before it finally hit me. I was locked in!

I ran to
the door and tried the knob, swearing under my breath when it didn’t move. What
the hell was going on?

I yelped
as the plug in my ass and the vibrating egg both buzzed to life, making me rock
on my feet and clutch the door knob for support. My body felt like it was on
fire, the powerful vibrations making me gasp for air. I hadn’t touched any
buttons, but they were both pulsing in time, making my clench around them.

Just as
quickly as they started, they stopped, and I stood panting, trying to catch my
breath. I reached between my legs, looking for some kind of switch so I could
control these things, but as I did, a voice resonated from a speaker in the
ceiling.

“Hands at
your sides, Isabeau.”

I gasped,
but did as I was told. “Mr. Drake?”

“Very
good, my little temp. I love how quickly you obey me. You deserve a reward.”

The butt
plug and dildo buzzed to life again, and I doubled over, groaning. The
vibrations in my ass were driving me wild in a way I’d never experienced. It
was intense. Too intense.

“Please…”

The
vibrations stopped.

“You look
beautiful, Isa. I knew that color would suit you. Not like those horrid pastels
you usually wear. You’re too wild for that. A very bad girl trapped inside a
good girl’s clothes.”

I
straightened up again, my hands and my sides and looked around, wondering how
he could see me. There were no windows, and the door was shut tight behind me.
I spied a shining black dot nestled at the foot of a bust on the mantle. A
camera. Bingo.

 
“Before we play today, there are some matters
to discuss. Some groundrules, if you will.”

“What kind
of rules?”

There was
a low chuckle. “Eager, aren’t we? Well, first, you are always to address me as
‘Sir’ when we play. I am your master, and you are my dirty little slave girl,
understood? I own you when you’re in my dungeon, Isabeau.”

I trembled
at his words, feeling my thighs growing slick with my own arousal.

“But my
part of that exchange is my promise to keep you safe, always, at all times. You
give me your trust, and I earn every second of it. That’s the deal.”

I nodded,
the weight of his words settling over me. I would have to trust him completely,
but the thought of him dominating me, protecting me even as he caused me pain…
It made me moan quietly, and move my fingers to my pussy.

“Bad girl,
Isabeau! I’m not done explaining.”

He gave me
a quick pulse from the vibrators, just enough to shock me. I grinned and put my
hands back at my sides.

“Are you
willing to put yourself in my hands? Will you be my little slave, Isa?”

I sighed,
enchanted by the thought of being in his hands, bending to his every whim.

“Yes,
Sir…”

There was
a weighty pause, and I pictured him smiling, wherever he was, looking me over,
seeing the effect he already had on me.

“The next rule
is perhaps the most important. If I go too far, or if you want things to stop for
any reason, you need a word to say to put a halt to things. A safe word. If
we’re playing a game where ‘stop’ doesn’t mean ‘stop,’ you use that word, and I
stop immediately. Do you understand?”

I nodded,
wondering what I could possibly use, but feeling comfort at the thought of that
fail safe.

Other books

Fearless by Douglas, Cheryl
The Muffin Tin Cookbook by Brette Sember
Private Heat by Robert E. Bailey
The Farewell Symphony by Edmund White
Airship Desire by Riley Owens
Me and Fat Glenda by Lila Perl
Red Ice by Craig Reed Jr