CHAPTER ONE
“So what do you want?” I ask.
“First, we need to lay down some ground rules,” he says. “For the next two weeks that you’re here, I expect you to wake me up every morning with a cup of coffee, a smile on your face, and no clothing.”
“No clothing?” I ask, thrown off guard.
He laughs.
“You knew what you were signing up for here, Lorelai. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?
In fact, I’m almost certain this is what you’ve been craving for a long time—a dominant man to take control, put you in your place.
You can pretend to fight back all you want.
I can see right through your facade. You want a man to tell you what to do, to force you to serve him. Isn’t that right?”
I shake my head, not able to get the words out.
He laughs. “It’s cute how you continue to deny it.
I like that. I like breaking women like you, Lorelai.
It’s one of my favorite things to do. So how about we start simple.
I’d like you to cook me dinner. Make sure it’s ready by 6 p.m. sharp.
There’s a uniform for you to wear in the closet. You’ll know it when you see it.”
I open my mouth to ask questions or respond, but before I can say anything, he’s gone.
I head to the bedroom and open up the beautiful mahogany closet.
Inside, it’s full of beautiful clothing—designer dresses, strappy heels with red soles, purses, and lingerie in every fabric you can imagine: lace, satin, even leather.
I notice a few boxes with lids ranging from white to black to pink.
I open up a few and feel myself blush instantly before closing the lids.
Inside there are toys—sex toys, handcuffs, paddles, vibrators. I chuckle to myself.
Why am I so embarrassed? I knew what I was signing up for here, didn’t I?
But as I go back to the closet and thumb through the outfits, I realize that I really didn’t.
I thought Mr. X might be into the idea of being dominant, but I didn’t think he would be like this.
Because I’ve met a lot of men who have said the same thing, but it turns out that when they said dominant, all they meant was they wanted to pull my hair for a second or two during sex, and that’s it.
I’ve always been vaguely disappointed, so I guess that’s what I expected with Mr. X. Although some part of me hoped he’d be different.
I continue to thumb through the outfits until I find it.
It’s undeniably the outfit because of the apron.
But besides that, nothing else about it is at all what you’d expect a “kitchen outfit” to be.
Basically, it’s glorified lingerie—a strapless white thong bodysuit with thigh-high stockings and matching garters.
There’s a pair of white five-inch heels directly underneath the getup.
Oh, and the apron is white and lacy. And on the front there’s an image of the silhouette of a woman kneeling. I feel my face get hot.
I put on the outfit and stare at myself in the mirror.
I shift my body, examining myself from all angles.
I feel like I look ridiculous, but what choice do I have?
Of course, I could always leave, but I’d be leaving money on the table.
And besides, I have to admit, Mr. X is intriguing.
As rude and degrading as he was before, there was something kind of sexy about the whole dynamic, or at least interesting.
I don’t want to wimp out now. It’s only been a few hours.
Well, if he thinks I look stupid, that’s his fault for picking a stupid outfit, I think to myself, blowing a strand of hair out of my face.
I check my phone. 5:15. I have 45 minutes to get dinner on the table. He never told me what he wanted.
So I hurry downstairs and start to look for him.
I peek into multiple doors but can’t find him.
Finally, I hear low voices and I find myself standing outside of a steel door.
I hadn’t noticed this door before, but it sticks out like a sore thumb now that I have.
There’s a code you have to use to open it.
It looks very high-tech compared to everything else.
I press my ear up against the door, struggling to hear what’s being said.
“Yes, Richard. No, that’s...”
The gruff lower voice pauses, and I hear footsteps approaching.
Oh, fuck, I think to myself, scrambling backwards.
But it’s too late. Half a second later, the door flings open, and I find myself falling forward.
Mr. X catches me, and I can’t help but notice how big his hands are.
I quickly right myself and struggle to look anywhere except at him.
“I was just wondering what you wanted for dinner,” I mumble under my breath.
“Oh really, Lorelai?” he asks. “Look me in the eyes and say that again.”
“I was... asking what you wanted for dinner,” I say slowly, not blinking.
It’s true, I try to tell myself. I was trying to find him to ask what he wanted for dinner. But that’s not the whole truth. A small voice inside me says, You were eavesdropping.
“You were eavesdropping,” he says, narrowing his brows at me.
My stomach drops. I know he’s right. But then again, is it really my fault when he gave me basically no instructions and then disappeared into a vault? I cross my arms.
“You didn’t tell me what to make you for dinner. How am I supposed to know?” I ask.
“You’re avoiding the topic, Lorelai,” he says. “Now, did I or did I not already tell you that I’m a busy man and I don’t like to be interrupted?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. I don’t know exactly why I’m being like this, but he seems to bring out this side in me.
“On your knees,” he snaps.
“What?” I ask.
Instead of asking again, he pushes his hands on my shoulders and pushes down.
“Hey!” I exclaim.
He doesn’t say anything, just undoes his pants and lowers his black boxer briefs. The biggest cock I’ve ever seen springs out and I gulp as he begins to stroke it slowly.
“I’m sure you know what to do,” he says. “Suck.”
My cheeks flame. I’ve never felt so humiliated.
He’s treating me like a child. He’s totally disregarding my opinion and feelings, and I hate it.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
Men have always pandered to me, asking again and again what I want.
He’s nothing like that. He’s not even just asking for what he wants—he’s taking it, shamelessly.
I’m annoyed, but I can’t help but feel a bit turned on too.
“Don’t make me ask again, Lorelai,” he says. “Or I’ll turn that red ass of yours black and blue.”
I gulp, and a strange thrill runs up my core. I open my mouth and tentatively wrap my lips around his massive cock.
“Take it all,” he says.
I only manage to get about halfway down the shaft before it hits the back of my throat. When I can’t take any more, he grabs my hair and pulls. I feel spit accumulate in my mouth as he begins to grab my head and move it back and forth.
He’s manhandling me like a toy.
I’m so shocked I don’t even know what to do. He lets go for a second and picks up his phone.
“Finish me off in the next two minutes,” he says.
Or what? I think to myself.
“Or there will be consequences,” he says.
He picks up his phone and resumes the call he was on.
I feel shame bubble up in me as I continue sucking off this man I just met while he takes a business call.
He’s acting as if he’s a literal king, and I’m just a girl there to serve him.
He starts speaking quicker and I can tell I’m running out of time.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Jeff,” he says before hanging up.
He turns to me and grabs my hair again. “30 seconds,” he says.
I start sucking more frantically, swirling my tongue around his shaft and pushing myself to take more of his cock. I’m gagging, spit drooling down my chin.
“Good girl,” he coos.
It’s patronizing. But at the back of my mind, I can’t help but think it’s hot also.
“Be a good girl and swallow it all for me,” he says.
He shoves his cock one last time deep down my throat and explodes, spilling hot creamy liquid into me. I swallow, feeling the thick liquid coat my throat and tongue. He does up his pants and goes back to his desk. I stay there on my knees looking up at him.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks.
“I expect dinner in 30 minutes.”
I look at him, my mouth open.
“Oh, and if I catch you eavesdropping on me again, next time it’ll be much worse.” He smiles wickedly and my heart quickens.
He turns back to the notebook on his desk and glances at his computer screen. He’s totally ignoring me, like I didn’t just swallow his semen and gag myself pleasuring him. It’s so incredibly rude.
But he’s right. I don’t have much time. I huff and stand up and march out of the room. I swear I hear him chuckle as I slam the door.