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I told myself that the billionaire producer had taken advantage of a virgin to get his rocks off doing his kinky shit. I told myself that the probably equally wealthy Ben L’s failure to interest me at all stemmed from self-proclaimed alpha-dog Christian forcing me into a mold that didn’t actually have anything to do with my wants or needs.
At least I could thank Christian for getting a few important things over with. I had still felt a little tug of the impulse not to answer the door that had doomed me in the New Modesty, but I had managed to get myself down to meet Ben without too much trouble. I’d be fine from here on in, I told myself.
In fact I had gone on autopilot, more or less, halfway through the date with Ben. He had put his hand on my hip as he had walked me home to my building. I hadn’t liked it much, but Ben had just bought me the most expensive dinner I’d ever eaten—Christian hadn’t done that, had he? I hadn’t liked the food all that much, but I tried to remember my manners, however bullshit an idea that was. I didn’t try to get away from Ben’s hand.
When he had moved it to my butt, though, as we had neared the front door of the building, the autopilot had ceased to function. Part of me had tried to keep my backside moving in the same direction it had traveled for the last fifty yards or so. The rest of me—mind and body and somehow also heart—had remembered Christian doing pretty much the very same thing, but in an utterly different way, it seemed to me. Instinctively I had jerked my hips to the left, shaking off the hand.
Ben had said nothing. I had tried valiantly to stifle my wayward brain’s response, but it had come through much too clearly.Christian wouldn’t have stood for that.
Outside the building’s glass doors I had turned to him, and I had felt the heat flow into my cheeks at the look of ironic disdain on Ben’s face. For a moment I had wondered if this man, too, had it in him to spank a girl who refused to comply with his reasonable demands—like at least a blowjob in exchange for a fancy dinner. Something in his blue eyes had suggested he might, and it sent the blood mounting in my cheeks.
But that idea had stirred the memory of how things had ended with Christian, of how I had kicked him out for suggesting that he would teach me to do that obscene thing. I had pictured myself kneeling not in front of Ben but in front of Christian, looking up at him as he instructed me in the art of receiving his massive cock between my lips and giving him the pleasure he deserved.
“Yeah,” Ben had said, putting his arms out to give me a hug goodbye, “I don’t think you’re ready for a sponsor like me. You’re lovely, Leah, though, and I wouldn’t mind hearing from you again, if you want to try pleasing me a little.”
As he had walked away, without looking back, my jaw had gone slack. Part of me had wanted to run after him and insist that Icouldplease him. I had turned to open the door, my face scrunched into an angry little pout, so dissatisfied with Ben L, and the building, and LA, and… okay, myself, too… that it took me long moments in the elevator and walking down the corridor to my apartment to understand that Ben had, infuriatingly, gotten it right.
He was a busy man. He worked hard in his office so that he wouldn’t have to work hard to find a reasonably submissive, gorgeous young woman to be seen with at fancy restaurants—and, presumably, to take back to her apartment and fuck. My little squirm of rebellion had told him everything he needed to know about me.
Christian Guzman, on the other hand… Christian had worked very hard, I realized as I replayed it all in my head, still staring down at my phone, under the palm trees. My heart rate, already elevated, kicked up another notch. I felt my breathing grow heavy and I had to fight the urge to rub the back of my neck, as if Christian’s imaginary high-power binoculars had caused an itch there.
He had worked very hard to train me for his enjoyment, and he had seemed to like the results very much. He had liked punishing me and fucking me—and he had made my body feel more pleasure than I had ever supposed it could experience. He had offered to take me further still.
Into the darkness.I swallowed hard and I shivered despite the California heat that warmed my skin even in the shade.Into the darkness, with a guide.
A very, very firm-handed guide. A man who knows how to impose the kind of consequences that teach a wayward young woman how to behave.
Christian would never have allowed me to wriggle away from his hand without… without… consequences. My brain stopped at that word again, and then I read his last message for the thousandth time.
5:30 at your apartment. Yes, there will be consequences. Nothing but your lingerie, when you answer the door. If you want to see me, reply the correct way.
I felt my forehead furrow hard. My thumbs shook as I typed out my reply.
Yes, sir.
CHAPTER23
Leah
My blushes came and went uncontrollably as I waited in the living room, dressed only in my lacy bra and thong panties. Somehow Christian had sent me into that intergalactic headspace without laying a finger on me. I had gotten ready for this… this thing—could I even call it a date?—in a fog of swirling thought and feeling, every one of them seemingly unrelated to the last, all of them together detaching me from the reality of what I did.
I had taken off my t-shirt and my jeans. I had taken off my ordinary beige bra and pink cotton panties. I distinctly remembered telling myself not to look in the mirror, but I also had no need to look at a reflection to see it in my mind’s eye—and to remember that if I granted Christian permission, he would be able to see it, too.
He had watched me during that degrading intimate photo session. He had seen me play with myself because of the twisted story the photographer had told me about myself.
I had revoked the permission, though. Christian had put more money in my bank account than I had ever seen attached to anything bearing my name. For that price he had demanded everything—every intimate privilege, including the right to discipline me simply for not keeping myself available for his rigid cock’s enjoyment at all times.
I had kicked him out of my apartment.
He hadpunishedme. For not talking about my panties in a public place.
I had kept my eyes away from every reflective surface as I put on the lacy white bra and panties. I looked at the carpet, the dresser, the ceiling.
He had punished me, and hewouldpunish me. And I had typedYes, sir.
I sat on the couch, looking out the big picture window, grateful that it hadn’t started to get dark yet because the light from outside ensured I couldn’t see my reflection, and—I thought I remembered from high school science class—no one could see in.
No one could see the girl dressed only in her naughty underwear, sitting on the couch, waiting for…
