Dominated by the Billionaire: The Boxed Set (2 page)

Suddenly, cruelly, as if guided by a spiteful God, the lights went out and the car ground to a halt. A loud alarm filled the darkness and Pam flinched with shock. After a few moments the lights returned, but the only sound was the alarm. They were still.

Why are we not moving?,
thought Pam, feeling panic rising in her throat. She clutched her purse with white knuckles, praying to feel the jolt of the car begin to descend. She didn't enjoy tight spaces at the best of times, but right now she'd sell her soul to be free of the elevator. She was desperate to be among her own kind, the hopeless wage slaves riding the bus home to their cramped apartments. Every moment she spent in this man's presence was another moment she knew she was beneath him.

Behind her she heard the man sigh softly, and a moment later he stepped forward beside her and pulled open a panel beneath the keypad. With a flick of the switch the alarm stopped, its painful trill echoing for a moment through the car, and in the sudden silence the man reached for the red emergency telephone.

'This is Robert Foster in the express elevator. Is there a problem?'

The timid, tinny voice that replied through a speaker mounted by the phone was apologetic. 'I'm sorry, Mr Foster. We lost power for a moment. The backup generators have kicked in, but we think the cut may have tripped the circuit breakers for the elevators. Sit tight, we'll have you moving in just a few minutes. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience, sir.'

Pam felt her panic subside, replaced by a touch of amusement. The famously surly technicians in the building would have, as Arnie always put it when they had problems with the old, temperamental electrics, 'counseled patience' if it had been Pam on the phone. In other words they would have told her to 'hold your fuckin' horses and wait for us to get to you.' Whoever this Mr Foster was he certainly seemed to merit special treatment.

The man replaced the phone in its cradle and glanced at his watch, sighing with frustration. Pam waited for him to move back to his old spot but he remained beside her, towering over her diminutive form. Foster had a good 6 inches on her, and in the suddenly claustrophobic space she felt as if he controlled it all. There wasn't an inch of space in the elevator that didn't feel like it belonged to him.

Including her.

Pam began to feel even more self conscious, as if she were trespassing in the man's home. She tried to shrink even further but it just wasn't enough. She imagined her cheap, drugstore scent filling the elevator, invading the nostrils of this man, evicting the fresh air and overwhelming his own expensive cologne. Nothing about her could possibly match up to him. She furtively sniffed the air, and in her mind she detected nothing but her own cloying, unpleasant scent.
He must be disgusted to even share his space with me,
she thought.

So why is he standing so close?

She could pick up his scent now, rich and fresh with tones of citrus. Despite his cool, relaxed appearance there was also an edge of sweat, masculine and rough, along with the deep, warm scent of his leather briefcase. She took a deep breath of him, wishing she could, just for a moment, bury her face in his chest and take a long, deep draught.

In moments she felt that familiar sensation of arousal. Between her legs, beneath her ugly polyester skirt and the cheap, thin cotton of her panties she felt a tingling sensation, a feeling deep inside that called out in hunger. It was a feeling she knew well after many months without a date, so many long nights alone with only her fingers, her vibrator and her imagination for company. It was a feeling that haunted her at the slightest provocation and overwhelmed her until she was sated. She'd have to masturbate the moment she got home. Maybe even before that, maybe in the bathroom on the ground floor. If she didn't touch herself she knew the lust would tear her to shreds. Her pussy was already on fire. She felt as if she'd explode at the slightest touch.

Pam knew he could hear her breath quicken, a shallow pant that only served to increase her arousal. She couldn't help herself. Images flashed through her mind of their naked bodies writhing around the floor of the elevator. She couldn't stop herself from imaging the taste of him as she gratefully worshiped his manhood, thanking him as he used her, begging him for more until he came in her, over her, filling her with his gift until she overflowed. She wished she could turn to him, to use this blessed private moment to pounce, to offer herself as a gift. She'd do anything for this man. This god. She'd happily belong to him.

Her arousal was tinged with shame and embarrassment. Pam knew this man was as far above her as she was above a dog in the street. There was no way he could possibly be attracted to a woman like her with her dowdy clothes, her plain face and her dull personality. Someone like her could never be with a man like him. She didn't deserve it.

And then she felt him. A hand came to rest on the small of her back, touching her confidently and without embarrassment. There was no hesitation on his part. It was a touch that suggested ownership. She felt the hand push her forward slowly but firmly until her belly pressed against the mirrored doors of the elevator car.

Pam's breath came quickly now she felt the cold steel of the door against her body. His hold on her was absolute. His large, strong hand closed over her back almost completely, easily blocking any attempt to twist from his grip. She was powerless. She couldn't even bring herself to speak.
What are you doing?
She knew she should yell out, fight back, reach in her purse for her mace, kick out with a heel. She knew this was wrong, but her body was frozen stiff.

The smell of his cologne overwhelmed her now, filling the small space as his breath quickened and the air grew warm around them. It was intoxicating. She felt lightheaded and weak. Her mind raced with fear, confusion and excitement.
What does he want with me?
Despite her fear, though, she still made no move to resist.

The man released her from his hold for a moment, sliding his hand up her back until he reached the back of her neck, pushing her head down the door until she was bent awkwardly forward at the waist. Pam felt his free hand dip to the back of her knee, pulling her legs open commandingly. She almost stumbled on her heels but his firm grip steadied her until she stood sprawled against the door with her legs splayed open, her cheek pressed against the cold steel.

'Please...' Her voice was little more than a whisper, and as she felt his hand slide up her inner thigh she lost even that. She gasped as his fingers brushed against her panties, her breath escaping her lungs as he kneaded her between her legs for a moment before hooking a finger beneath the fabric and roughly pulling them down her legs.

The loose, cheap panties slipped down her thighs and bunched around her splayed knees, and with a quick, hard yank he pulled the fabric until it tore, the perished elastic snapping painfully against her legs.

'Ow! You're hurting me!' Her voice wavered, full of fear and shock but as weak as a light breeze. She could barely even hear herself speak.

He spanked her ass with a palm, hard. 'Quiet! I don't want to hear you talk.' His voice was commanding, as if there was no possibility it could be disobeyed, and even with panic flowing through her she felt its cool, calming effect. Her voice died in her throat. There was nothing she could do to stop him, and despite the fear she realized she didn't want to.

Pam's body called out commands that overrode her mind and she was shocked to find herself pressing back, pushing her body toward him, gyrating her hips against his crotch, feeling his erection swelling against her thigh. Even when he released his grip from her neck she made no move, just stayed in the position he'd placed her, presenting herself to him and waiting for him to take her.

The skirt was next to go. He tugged violently at the zipper running down the side until it gave way and the polyester fell in a crumpled heap to her ankles. She was exposed now, her pussy spread open invitingly between her legs. She knew she was dripping wet, and as soon as he ran his fingers between her legs her arousal was obvious. He sighed with approval as he ran his fingers along the moist, glistening lips of her pussy, and Pam sensed him smile as she took a deep, shuddering breath and her legs quaked and wobbled beneath her.

She risked a glance behind her. The man was looming over her, tugging his erect cock from his pants. In his eyes she saw hunger. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if trying to draw out this moment as long as possible. He raised a hand and another ringing slap hit her ass, more painful now she was naked.

'Face forward!', he growled. Her head spun back to the door and he pushed her face roughly against it. She wanted to cry out, to show her pain, but instead she bit her lip and gripped the waist high railing with all her strength. In a daze she noticed her breath condensing on the steel, blurring the reflection of the man behind her.

The moment Mr Foster pushed himself inside Pam every shred of fear instantly evaporated. All confusion vanished. As his hands firmly gripped her waist and held her steady as he guided himself into her she submitted to him. Her eager, dripping pussy pushed back onto his thick erection without any input from her conscious self. Her body knew what it wanted, and it didn't care how it happened. Her body didn't need consent. It didn't need flowers and candy. All it needed was him. It needed this strong, powerful man to take what he wanted. She'd dreamed of this moment a thousand times, touching herself while imaging his strong hands on her, and finally her dream had become reality.

His cock went deep - too deep - with the first thrust. He gave her everything he had, pushing himself inside her until she felt the taut, firm muscles of his stomach on her quivering ass. She flinched and pulled herself forward, but that only encouraged him to push deeper. His hands gripped her around the waist awkwardly, catching and pulling on her blouse, and after a moment he lost patience, reached around to the front and tugged it firmly until the buttons popped to the floor.

Balancing her on his hard, long cock he pulled the blouse over her shoulders, tugging hard until her arms were behind her back. Pam couldn't see what he was doing but a moment later realized he'd knotted the fabric behind her, pinning her arms behind her and leaving her off balance, relying on Foster to hold her upright.

That, at least, wasn't a problem. With incredible strength Foster lifted her bodily, swinging her right leg over his head until she was facing him, her ass supported firmly by his huge hands and her back braced against the elevator doors. Now he had complete control over her he began once against to fuck her deep, sliding smoothly in and out of her soaked, dripping pussy.

Pam's pinned arms left her small, pert breasts uncovered and thrust out ahead of her, and she shuddered with delight as he chose to enjoy them. His head dipped to her chest as he fucked her, and Pam felt the beginnings of an earth shaking orgasm the moments his lips met her nipple. She felt her pussy clench and begin to spasm as his tongue ran across her, uncontrollable waves of joy making her squirm in his strong hands.

Suddenly Pam felt herself fall to the ground, landing awkwardly on her back. She rolled onto her side in time to feel a sharp, ringing slap to her ass, and seconds later Foster had a firm grip on her shoulder and hauled her to her knees.

'How dare you come before I do.' His voice held no anger, just a firm declaration of the way it should be. 'You come when I give you permission, and not a moment sooner. Understand?'

Pam nodded meekly, battling to pull back her climax. 'I'm sorry,' she almost cried. It was already too late - she could feel her juices dripping down her inner thighs as her pussy quaked with ecstasy - but she chewed her lip and remained silent as the storm raged within her body.

Inches from her lips was the glistening head of Foster's glorious cock, soaked with her juices and throbbing in time with his pulse. She barely had time to take a breath before he pushed it on her, forcing open her lips with the thick glans. The salty, sweet taste filled her mouth and her orgasm doubled in force.

This had been the focus of so many of her fantasies, kneeling before her Man of Steel and gratefully servicing him. It was exactly as she'd dreamed. She felt his heartbeat pulse through the hot, wet shaft as it rested on her tongue and his powerful hands pulled her onto him, bobbing her head back and forth and forcing her to take him deeper. She took it all happily, stretching her lips to accommodate his impressive girth until it hurt.

Saliva dripped down her chin to her breasts, and the sound of his ragged breath echoed in the tight space along with the slurp and smack of her wet lips closed around him in an deep, erotic kiss. She only wished her arms were free so that she could grip his firm, muscular buttocks and pull him deeper into her. She wanted to draw him in completely, pull him down her throat and into her body so he was always with her.