Dominated by the Billionaire: The Boxed Set (3 page)

His orgasm came without warning, exploding in her mouth with the force of a fire hydrant. As his jet of cum exploded on her lips he groaned heavily and pulled out of her, spraying across her face and chest with abandon. He stumbled backwards as his cum dripped from Pam's mouth and admired his handiwork.

No sooner has his red, thickly veined cock stopped gushing did he reach behind her, his searing hot, firm member slapping her in the face, to untie her hands. When she was free he hauled her across the elevator floor and left her on her ass against the back wall.

'Make yourself come,' he ordered, slipping his cock slowly back into his pants. 'I want to watch you.'

Pam rubbed her aching wrists and began to wipe the cum from her face before Foster wagged his finger. 'Did I tell you to clean yourself?'

'I'm sorry,' she whispered with deference. With one hand she took a hard, pink nipple between her fingers, and the other she dropped between her legs, teasing her throbbing, aching clit while he looked on.

Without warning the elevator jolted to a start, moving so suddenly that Pam flinched with shock. She reached out for her panties in panic.

'Did I tell you to stop?' he asked, standing on the sad scrap of cotton he'd torn from her.

She looked at him beseechingly. 'But...' The floor display read 5. She only had a few seconds before the car would reach the lobby.

'I told you to make yourself come for me. Do it.'

'Please...' The display read 3. Just moments now.

His expression turned harsh. 'Come, or tomorrow you look for a new job.'

Pam's hand reached her pussy just as the elevator reached the ground floor. The door slid open to reveal the lobby, empty at this hour but still open. Anyone could walk by at any moment and yet Foster simply stood there, barring her way, waiting to watch her climax. He unzipped his pants and drew out his cock once again, stroking it into life as Pam caressed herself.

Her dripping pussy responded to the sight of his erection instantly, quivering under her slender, most fingers. She could feel her orgasm approach even as the sound of voices echoed from the lobby. People were approaching, but now there was nothing that could stop her from coming. She was beyond caring about being caught. Her body screamed out as her fingers moved frantically against her swollen clit, jolts of electricity firing through her body. Her panting turned to groaning that echoed loudly into the lobby. Foster's hand moved more quickly on his own body, stroking the thick head of his shaft until he had to support himself against the wall. His cum burst out onto Pam's chest as she opened her lips to form an ecstatic gasp, and at the height of her climax Foster thrust himself forward, crouching to push himself firmly into her mouth.

Pam sucked and licked dreamily, soaked fingers still playing on her twitching, convulsing clit. Her stomach muscles spasmed and her wet, quivering ass slid across the floor as she lost control of her body. Her senses were overwhelmed. She could barely feel her fingers feverishly moving over her slippery clit anymore, and her nose was full of the rich, deep scent of her master's body. She was buried in him, drinking him in and hungrily lapping at him as she came. There was nowhere else she'd rather be, nobody else she'd rather serve. It was perfect.

Her eyes were closed tight as he slid himself from her slurping mouth. She was delirious, knocked senseless by her orgasm, and when her eyelids finally fluttered open she saw he was leaving,stepping out into the lobby without a word.

She rose on shaking legs, gathering her torn clothes and wiping her wet, dripping body down. For the first time she wondered how she'd get home. She couldn't possibly ride the bus like this.

Pam stumbled through the lobby quickly, rushing to the door away from the sound of voices near the stairwell. She pulled her buttonless blouse tightly around her, trying to remember if there was a store nearby where she could buy a cheap replacement.

She nearly burst into tears when she realized she only had $5 in her purse. She'd left her cards at home.

Stepping out into the cold evening air Pam was distraught, ashamed of what she'd done and terrified that, if she could even make it home without dying of embarrassment, she'd arrive at the office the following day to find a pink slip. She felt small and inconsequential. Tears pricked at her eyes and she cursed herself, this city and the man who had used and abandoned her.

And then she saw the black limo purring by the sidewalk. The door was open, and in the dim light she saw a man waiting inside. He had a strong jaw, an impeccable suit and deep, dark eyes you could lose yourself in for days.

He waited.

ON HIS ORDERS

DOMINATED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

by

Aya Fukunishi

Chapter One

The note was waiting on Pam's desk when she arrived at the office. It was in a simple white envelope, her name handwritten on the front.

This is it,
she thought, tears threatening to prick at her eyes.
He's going to fire me.

It was three days since they'd met in the elevator. He'd used her, roughly, violently controlling her in every way he'd desired. When he was done he left her lying in his juices, her clothes torn and ragged. She'd become a different person in that moment: more sexual, more free while at the same time abandoning freedom. She'd never felt so aroused. Never believed it possible that her body could respond to cruelty and control so readily, so eagerly.

She'd felt so ashamed when he left her. Her skin glistened with his cum. Her clothes were unfit to wear on the street. She was terrified, mortified that anyone might see her.

But he'd waited. He'd collected her from the front of the building, beckoning her into his limo and ferrying her home in near silence. The only words he'd spoken were to demand her address, and then he'd settled into the leather seat with a newspaper, acting as if she wasn't there.

The journey had taken twenty minutes. Pam had spent the trip sitting carefully, trying to touch the seat as little as possible so as to avoid dirtying his car with his own cum. One drip from her chin onto the seat had drawn a stern glance, and she knew he wouldn't tolerate any more mess.

Robert Foster, she'd learned, wasn't just any suit from the 45th floor. The man who'd taken what he wanted from her was the principal shareholder in her company. She'd looked him up online soon after he dumped her unceremoniously outside her apartment building. Foster was 35 years old and the heir to a vast fortune; a fortune that had only grown larger under his stewardship. He'd invested wisely, bought companies across the world and quickly turned his millions into billions.  He was a wunderkind, the golden boy of the corporate world. He transformed everything he touched. He had a gift, but he also had... appetites.

Foster had no official role at the company but he maintained an office up on the 45th floor. He ran his empire from there, and there was no question that his was the voice that steered the fortunes of everyone in the building.

And now he was going to fire her.

All weekend she'd feared this. She knew he couldn't have her walking the halls, talking to anyone who'd listen about the man upstairs who'd taken advantage of her in the elevator. Nobody would believe her but it was too messy to leave such a loose end. She'd be fired, she knew, and he'd find some way to keep her quiet.

For ten minutes she sat and stated at the envelope sitting innocently on her desk. She didn't dare open it, preferring to pretend none of this had ever happened. She hadn't worked late Friday. She hadn't called the executive elevator. He hadn't been waiting inside. It was all a dream. This was just a Monday like any other.

Pam closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose.
This is how it ends,
she thought.
Eight years in the same job over because I lost control just once
. She looked at the envelope one last time through blurred, wet eyes and tore it open.

It wasn't a pink slip. It was a note, handwritten on plain white paper.

Your clothing won't do. Change it now. Come to 45 at 1PM. RF.

A second envelope was hidden inside the first. It contained a wad of $100 bills. Lots of them.
Jesus!,
thought Pam, almost falling out of her chair.
There must be $5,000 here!

Attached to the wad of bills was a business card, plain and simple, the only words an address on Mulberry in Nolita. No name, just the address.
221b Mulberry
.

Pam glanced at her watch with a start. It was 9:45 already. If she was to make it downtown and back by one she'd have to leave right away. She grabbed her jacket and bustled out the door, almost knocking Artie down as he lumbered into the office.

Artie laughed. 'Hey, where's the fire?'

'No time, Art. Gotta run. I'll explain later.'

She had no way of knowing that she'd never return to the 12th floor.

Chapter Two

The card led Pam to a door hidden in an alcove between a vintage clothing store and a dry cleaner halfway down Mulberry. Her cab driver had struggled to find it and eventually she had to get out and walk down the street, counting off the numbers above the doors.

This door was the epitome of anonymous, simple red painted wood without a nameplate or even a number. She wasn't even sure it was the right place, but the dry cleaner was 221 and the vintage store was 223. This had to be the right place.

The door clicked open before she even pressed the buzzer. She looked up with surprise and saw there was a camera discreetly hidden in the ceiling of the alcove. Whoever was inside must have seen her.

Behind the door there was nothing to suggest where she was. It was a simple hallway leading to a flight of stairs, clean but dimly lit. Hesitantly, wishing she could turn back and flee with every step, Pam shuffled along the hall and climbed the stairs. When she reached the top she found an open doorway leading into a large, bright room. There was silence within.

'Ah, Miss Rose, I presume?' Pam almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the booming voice call to her. 'Come on through, my dear, come on through. I'm Mr Trim, but you may feel free to call me Bertie, if you prefer. My word, you look like you've seen a ghost! Are you quite alright, my dear?'

Pam tried to control her breathing. She felt her pulse pounding, and she could feel her entire body shaking. 'I... I'm sorry, I'm just a little out of sorts.'

Now she had a moment to take in her surroundings she was surprised at what she found. The room was filled with tailor's mannequins, rolls of fabric and large tables covered in half finished clothing. In the middle of it all stood a heavily overweight, red faced Englishman wearing a voluminous suit matched with a colorful, loud cravat.

'Can I interest you in a soothing cup of tea, my dear? You look like you could use one. Or perhaps something a little stronger?' His voice raised hopefully through the second question, and he seemed disappointed when Pam shook her head.