Taken: By Her Billionaire Benefactor (Billionaire Benefactor 3) (3 page)

Every sensation, every minor note of pleasure was being magnified a hundred times by the fact that she could see none of what was going on. It was like being blindfolded, having to imagine everything and having no heads up when she was about to be touched. Anna loved it.

She knew she'd be hurt if she continued squirming, but she did it anyway. How could she not when this man's glorious, soft, but firm hands were roving across the lower part of her body – hands which though she knew would never hurt her, she knew equally that in a second he had the power to snap her in half.

"Anna, stop! You are his prize, you must know that. And if I were to do anything to harm you in any way, even touch you with this razor in the wrong way, you must know that it wouldn't be good for me".

Suitably chastened, Anna went still at once. What kind of Master did she have? What kind of man was he that he could instil such respect, and such fear, in a man who was clearly powerful himself. Even if that power was confined to his gorgeous, strong, muscled body.

"I'm sorry," Anna offered up, truly apologetically. "I didn't know".

She moved the towel off her head once more, this time entirely and let it fall to the side. She wanted to convey her apology properly, and knew that she wouldn't be able to do it without making eye contact.

James looked mollified. "The blade is from Japan," he said. "It's out of his personal collection, who knows how much it costs. I've heard that it's made in the same way they used to make swords".

Perhaps responding to the quizzical, and not entirely convinced look on Anna's face, James quickly continued. But his mind was clearly focused on

"You wouldn't look so surprised if you knew a little more about your Master".

"So tell me, why don't you?"

"It's not my place. I'm strictly here to get you ready, and drive you to his pla…” – James stopped dead, mouth shut immediately, with a kind of "oh, shit" expression on his suddenly bright red face.

It was the kind of look little kids get when they know they've said too much, accidentally blurted out a secret. Anna found it hilarious, although she did her best to hide it from her face. After all, this man did have an extremely sharp Japanese razor blade resting 6 inches away from her clitoris…

And, well – there was really only one word that he could have meant by his truncated slip of the tongue – but surely her Master couldn't be rich enough to have his own plane?

She'd been to his house, and it was definitely finished beautifully, in a clearly expensive, if rather quirky part of town. But when she thought of the superrich, she thought of skyscrapers and out-of-town mansions – not buildings like the one she been in just a couple of days before.

This man – this Master – was a study in contradiction. Anna marvelled that she could know him a hundred years and probably still never completely unravel his secrets. But, she thought, she might as well lie back – literally – and go along with it.

James bowed his head now, concentrating on the task at hand – clearly in an attempt to distract himself from his error. The look of concentration on his face was endearing, and Anna had a sudden burning desire to grab his head and physically force it towards her crotch.

It passed, but Anna hardly recognised this new person she was quickly becoming, so easily swayed by her most base desires. She didn't recognise this person, but she certainly liked who she was becoming.

James made his first pass with the blade, holding the razor at a 45° angle to her pale white skin, and pulling it gently and firmly towards his face, screwed up with concentration.

The air, which suddenly had access to skin that was newly denuded of hair for the first time – well – probably since Anna first began growing it, felt like sweet agony as it licked the short avenue of smooth flesh. James moved in short strokes, clearing a path from the edge of the skin that he had so lovingly prepared, towards her centre.

He moved quickly, carefully and Anna felt no more fear that she might be cut than she might if she were using cutlery – sharp as the blade might be, she felt completely safe in his hands.

Anna wasn't squirming, but only through a monumental force of effort that she managed to keep herself still. It didn't take long before she was closing her eyes once more to deny herself the visual proof of James' actions, such was her need to concentrate solely on keeping her breathing steady and the orgasm that was beginning to build between her thighs from overwhelming her.

The area around her pink opening was now completely hairless, that true white of skin that has barely ever seen light before.

Now finished, though Anna had no idea – still feeling phantom strokes of the sharp razor, such was her excitement – James lifted the metal bowl filled with water, now merely pleasantly warm, and poured it directly onto Anna's crotch.

Anna jerked upwards in surprise, as the shock of pleasure jolted through her body – almost enough to send her over the edge. She had enough presence of mind to squeeze her thighs together in the hope that this would be enough to bring her budding orgasm to conclusion.

James looked at her and smiled.

"I don't think he'd be very pleased if you were to come before he sees you…"

Anna knew he was right, but a part of her wanted to ignore the rational side of her mind and fully embrace the carnal desires that were flooding her body, driven by the burning heat between her legs.

James picked up the hand towel that he had – indeed – neatly folded earlier on and unravelled it, bringing it to Anna's crotch and towelling her dry roughly. The pressure of the rough fabric on her vagina was exquisite agony, and she bucked her hips onto it, knowing it was wrong, knowing that she should wait for whatever her Master had planned for that day, but at the same time willing to completely ignore the part of her mind that was telling her to wait.

James brought the cloth down firmly once, twice, thrice in different directions, but his mind was clearly focused on drying her, rather than bringing her growing orgasm to its natural end.

Understanding at last the she was not to be satisfied, at least not yet, Anna shot him a baleful, reproachful look, her lips set in a pout.

"Don't look at me like that – you know it's right."

She knew it was, of course she did, but there was no reasoning with the female orgasm, was there? Right now, if James wasn't going to finish her off, then all Anna wanted to do was to get some privacy so that she could finish the job herself.

The way she was feeling right now, it wouldn't take long at all.

"You're not touch yourself before you see the Master tonight, do you understand," James said to her, averting his gaze and with an entirely embarrassed look on his face.

"I wouldn't…" Anna replied, but weakly, and without much conviction.

"Listen to me Anna, this man you're involved with can either be the best that you have ever come across, or he can be the worst you've ever imagined. It's up to you which of the two you get. If I were you, I wouldn't".

With that – unsettling, but exciting warning – James stood up and began to leave the room. He turned his head as he reached the doorway and said "there's a dress hanging on your dresser, it's your size. We've had it made for you. Put it on, and meet me downstairs".

Anna did as she was bid.

***

Given the intimacy that pair of them had shared – this stranger shaving her crotch just a few moments before – they returned to normality surprisingly quickly.

James was once again the driver, servile, Anna once more the high status passenger.

The dress was gorgeous, stunning – in fact no words could really describe it fairly. The material was some kind of extravagantly expensive silk, as Anna slipped it on it shimmered down her body, almost weightless, and wearing it was like having thousands hands stroking her skin – feather light – wherever it met her flesh.

It was a dark red, almost blood, and printed all over it were tiny swallows – extraordinarily detailed, the workmanship clear. Anna had never been more careful walking through corridors and closing doors than when she first put on – she couldn't even fathom how expensive repairing a tear caused by some silly little accident she might have would be.

James held the door open for her wordlessly, and she stepped in to the limousine. The leather seats were luxuriously soft, providing just the right support so that Anna sank into them, but they didn't envelop her.

The door closed behind her, then click as the driver's side door opened, then closed. The connecting window hummed as her driver – since that was what he was really – depressed the button which controlled it.

Turning his head to face her, hands already on the wheel, he said "pour yourself a drink, anything. Window up or down?"

It took Anna a little while to process what he was saying. Not only had she never been in a car with dividing window before, she had certainly never been in one that had its own bar!

"Um… Up – I think". She almost didn't want to say it, in fact there was a part of her that would rather speak to him, rather pick his brains about what she might expect to experience when they got there – wherever there was.

But there was a rather larger part of her that had decided to delight in her new-found power over this man – even if that power was simply reflected from her Master…

James didn't reply, he knew exactly what was expected of him and simply depressed the button once again to push the window upwards.

Anna sank back, and began to play with the shimmering material covering her legs.

She inspected the interior of the car’s cabin – noticing in particular the small but no doubt very well stocked bar. There were no labels in sight – didn't need to be. Anna knew by now to expect the very best from her Master – and whatever was in the crystal decanters was no doubt the very best that could be procured anywhere in the world.

Her hands were slightly trembling, whether as a consequence of the orgasm that she had been so close to, but which had been in the end denied her, or whether as a result of the fact that she was delving further into the unknown sexual fantasies of her Master, she didn't know.

Noticing, she decided to make use of the bar that had been provided her, and reached out to pour herself a strong whiskey. The glass was a joy to hold, heavy crystal that sat in her hand as though it was made for it.

She couldn't tell whether it was intentional, whether the car had been stocked with crystalware that would suit her, or whether it was just chance. Given the professional nature of the organisation she was somehow part of she was unwilling to rule out either scenario.

The amber liquid raced down her throat like an emission of fiery lava. There was however, no painful aftertaste, just a smooth finish as it sank into her stomach and pleasantly began to warm her from the inside.

The engine burst into life, and settled into a gentle purr. The gentle vibrations tickled Anna, sending the featherlight material of her delicate dress dancing across her body, stroking her aching nipples – the one omission, presumably intentional, from the well thought out wardrobe she had been provided with being any form of underwear…

She sank back and resolved to enjoy what was about to happen to her, whatever that might be…

***

Anna must have fallen into some kind of daydream, because it seemed like just moments before the car drew to a halt, and the sudden deceleration as it came to a gentle stop shaking her out of her reverie.

Startled, she looked around her easily, trying to discern where she was. It didn't take much working out…

A plane lifted off from the runway to her right, a small sweet thing in a jet blue, climbing hard like some kind of bird of prey. To her left, a small control centre seem to be the hub of the small airfield, directing traffic.