I'd like to thank Thirst for staying up with me past midnight to pre-read this chapter and bounce ideas back and forth.
A/N: This is a WARNING. There will be some light femslash toward the end of this chapter. If you cannot tolerate woman-on-woman smut, skip the last 400-500 words. OK 1000+ words…
Christian Grey.
No matter how I said it, the fact that the man with the penetrating gaze pictured before me was the elusive billionaire Christian Grey rendered me completely and utterly gobsmacked. For years, much of the Washington population who gave a shit had assumed Christian Grey was a closeted homosexual.
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined someone like Mr. Grey was part of the scene, but then I recalled thinking just the other day that BDSM catered to all kinds, for any kind of flavor one could desire, or need, there was a recipe guaranteed to satisfy. Obviously his tastes must be far more varied than vanilla. Despite my early-morning tryst with preppy from last night, my thighs clenched together and I felt myself become a vault of deep, throbbing need.
As Mistress relinquished her computer so I could peruse his electronic file, I looked beyond his rather stunning photo to examine his personal stats, I was in a state of shock. Not only had she included his height and weight, dimensions for the breadth of his shoulders and width of his waist, she even had the length and circumference of his cock listed! This was the most comprehensive, and invasive, profile I'd ever seen. I began to wonder if she was selling me or him. At least I now knew that none of the suit he was wearing was padded; it was all him.
He plays the piano. I think his file could've ended there. I can't think of a single red-blooded woman who's seen Pretty Woman and not imagined getting nailed over the keys whilst making beautiful music…
Instead, information regarding proposed clothing allowance, health insurance, spa visits and scheduling completed his profile. Strange. Thorough, but strange. Except for the note at the bottom of the page regarding his hard limits. Mistress would discuss his overall requirements including his hard limits.
"Never touch him without his express permission," her stern voice broke into my reverie, "Never attempt to touch him at all. Never look into his eyes. Do not speak until spoken to, and only when given permission. You are to be seen and not heard. Do not disturb him while he is conducting business unless told otherwise. Is this understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, while secretly wondering if this guy was a fucking Gremlin. Don't put it near light, especially sunlight, it can kill them. Don't let it get wet with water nor give it any water to drink nor bathe it. No matter how much it cries or begs, NEVER feed it after midnight.
"Are you listening?" Mistress inquired silkily.
"Yes, ma'am." I lied, sure she'd seen right through me. "I was just considering these very specific hard limits. It might be difficult to engage in very rigorous sexual acts without being able to touch him."
"Trust me, it'll work," she claimed shortly. "Mr. Grey is an extremely wealthy man and an excellent Dom. If you play your cards right, you will find him to be quite generous. He's also a very busy man, as billionaires often are, so he won't have time to deal with any of the usual growing pains within this type of arrangement."
"Pardon me?" I asked incredulously.
"There will be no idle chitchat. You're not dating him. You won't be his girlfriend. You will be his submissive. Period. If you're harboring any delusions of some grand future romantic liaison, you must purge them forthwith, because Mr. Grey doesn't do hearts and flowers. What he will do is fuck you within an inch of your life and test your limits to the extreme. It will prove an exhilarating and illuminating experience," she droned on.
I didn't understand how that would work. Everything changes. Relationships evolve and grow. The constraints of this arrangement appeared to be quite narrow. But fuck, just look at him!
"Alright. Where do I sign up?" I assented.
"Starting now. You'll need to meet with the OB/GYN selected by Mr. Grey to have some labs done. When the results come in, you'll be furnished with his labs as well. I'll need you back in a week and a half from now for some intensive treatments. Your skin looks a tad dry. You'll also have to be waxed everywhere. Mr. Grey desires to see hair only on a woman's head, eyebrows and eyelashes. Have you considered electrolysis? Also, no more hair coloring, no highlights, dyeing or lightening. Leave your hair its natural brunette shade," she directed.
"What if I do all this and Mr. Grey doesn't want me?" I asked. It was a hell of a commitment with no guarantee of return. As I completed that thought, an alert sounded on Mistress' cellphone. She gazed at the display with an inscrutable expression, then looked at me.
"Mr. Grey is satisfied with your current appearance," she stated.
"But that was just a picture," I replied. "He may not be happy with me in real-time."
"Oh, I assure you that Mr. Grey has signed off on you already. If you could just turn around and wave at the cameras."
This was a webcam interview? How long has he been watching me? I felt repulsed yet turned on at the same time. I'm sure Mistress only let him see select portions of this meeting. Discretion was key. It wouldn't have done for her to be witnessed discussing other Doms or arrangements by another client. Exhaling with relief, I contemplated my new situation.
The idea of Christian Grey being my Dom filled me with excitement and pride. This man could have almost anyone he wanted, and he'd chosen me. It really made me wonder what his kink was.
Less than a week after I signed the NDA and had my labs done, I once again found myself in front of Mistress' desk. She held out an envelope with an official-looking seal. Even before opening it, I knew it must be Mr. Grey's reciprocal labs. After looking over the three page results, I was satisfied that letting him fuck me wouldn't be life-threatening.
I was horrified, to say the least, when Mistress Lincoln informed me that my results hadn't been quite as stellar. I'd had the beginnings of a yeast infection and had apparently caught the clap from my one-night stand, which I'd had to cop to lest she be forced to contact Mr. K. Damn, how humiliating that would've been!
"Ms. Williams, I certainly hope I don't need to explain to you the perils of unsafe, indiscriminate sex."
"No, Mistress," I whispered hoarsely, cringing in shame. No excuses would be sought or accepted. I'd just blown a chance of a lifetime on a guy I'd probably not recognize in a police line-up.
"Luckily for you, Mr. Grey wasn't quite as perturbed and disgusted as I thought he'd be. I assured him this lapse on your part was anomalous, and unlikely to occur again. Needless to say, you will not be meeting in person until you've finished your course of antibiotics," she said, handing over a small white bag.
"He's overseas on business at this time, which I suspect saved your lily-white ass, but I wouldn't breathe easy just yet. He requested that I pick this up for you and see it properly installed," she continued, taking out a case and opening it.
"Is that…?" I began to ask.
"Yes, it's a chastity device," she replied shortly. "To make it simpler for you, he also included some Ben Wa balls, a pair of dice, an anal plug and bells for your nipples."
What in the hell? She took out a large plastic Ziploc bag. "Take off your bra and panties and place them in this bag," she commanded briskly.
I suddenly looked over my shoulder. Was Mr. Grey watching me right now? Did he notice my hesitation? I should be grateful that he hadn't already written me off. I reached beneath my skirt, jerking down my g-string, then slowly unbuttoned my blouse, letting it fall off my shoulders. I snapped the bra open as the one I was wearing today fastened at the front, letting my breasts spill out. Mistress' blue eyes had dilated as I began shedding my undergarments. Fuck! Let her enjoy the show too, and send in the clowns while she was at it!
I snatched the bag from her slackened grasp and roughly stuffed my underwear inside. As I donned my blouse once again, an alert sounded from her cell. Mistress Lincoln dragged her eyes from her lingering perusal of my body. Ah. She swung both ways. Good to know.
She spoke in hushed tones for a few moments, sending glances in my direction, nodding at times, then gazed over my shoulder, no doubt looking in the direction of a camera, with a wide grin, nodding twice and terminated the call. Mistress beckoned me to her, commanding me to bend over, placing my hands on the desk. Moving behind me, she drew her hands over my body, outlining my curves.
"Have you voided today?" she demanded.
"Yes, Mistress," I promptly replied.
"Hmm," she grunted, as her fingers moved beneath my skirt, probing my naked sex. Lightly ghosting her fingers over and around my engorged clit. Her frame, taller than mine, pressed my body into the desk as she took one hand, tweaking my nipples to stiffened peaks. She removed the hand beneath my skirt, and brought it to my lips, motioning for me to suck two of her fingers. I opened my mouth, my tongue tentatively probing her long, narrow, manicured digits, lubricating them.
She slid down on her knees behind me, lifting my skirt, exposing my ass and garter belt holding up my thigh-high hose. She held my cheeks open, landing ringing slaps on each one in turn. My fluids leaking from my folds, creamy against my pouting labia. Mistress took the fingers I sucked, abruptly ramming them to the hilt, massaging my inner walls, applying pressure on the front wall, while massaging my clit with her thumb. As I felt the rippling of an impending orgasm, she removed her fingers and filled my pussy with the Ben Wa balls from the case Master supplied her.
As I attempted to shift from the uncomfortable pressure and temperature, Mistress slapped my ass again hard, right where the bottom of the cheek meets the upper thigh. She lifted each leg in turn, lightly turning it. Then she placed the chastity belt on me, pulling it taut, with the balls still inside!
With a turn of the locks, I was, in effect, in bondage. I would be depending on Mistress to release me to even void, or clean myself. Was this my punishment for fucking Ethan and getting the clap? If I ever see that nasty son of a bitch again, I'll slice off his cock as a public service.
Just when I thought she was done, she attached clover clamps to my nipples. Mrs. Lincoln stood up, strode to her private bathroom and began vigorously scrubbing her hands. Then she carefully dried them, following up with a moisturizer. If I didn't feel like a filthy slut before, she'd sealed the deal.
Returning to her place behind the desk, she began typing on her computer. I knew that I wasn't expected to speak. I'd been a sub long enough to interpret a Dom's body language and her body was screaming, "shut the fuck up!"
I stood in silence, awaiting her next command. I didn't have to wait long as a sheet of paper came out of her printer. She looked at me impassively, handing me the paper.
"These are your errands for today. Read the list carefully, as you will not be taking it with you. Straighten your clothes, and leave. Everything on the list must be completed and you must return by end of business day, or I will not be available to release you. Each task on the list not completed will count as an infraction. You may begin," she commanded curtly in dismissal.
Thank fuck there were only eight items on the list! The first task was to roll the die from the case on Mistress Lincoln's desk. I did it an rolled a nine. The second task was to return everything to the case, but I couldn't do that as I wouldn't be able to return everything until I came back from the other six errands. The following six items would have me running all over Seattle with clover clamps with bells on my nipples, a chastity belt, Ben Wa balls up my snatch while wearing no underwear!
It seemed like most of the errands were for the salon. I guess I was destined to be Greta's gopher today…
With only half hour left, I arrived at Esclava, panting with exertion and trembling with need, thighs sticky with arousal. I approached Mistress' desk with a grimace. She looked at all the items I had purchased with my own money, while ostensibly checking each one against her list. I'd even had to retrieve her dry cleaning.
"You forgot the conditioner I ordered. That will be one infraction. Along will the nine you rolled earlier, you will serve a total of ten punishments before you will be able to touch your Master's cock," she stated with relish. "You have twenty minutes left to complete your tasks."
I hurriedly replaced the rest of the items into the case, and assumed the position so Mistress could release me from my bonds. Whatever a Dom puts on a sub, that sub cannot remove without that Dom's permission, whether it be clothes, clamps or cum, the sub must wear it with pride.
Mistress leisurely strolled around her desk, lifting my blouse and removing the clover clamps. My nipples cried out in relief. Next she lifted my skirt, disassembling the chastity device. She commanded me to squat, reaching past my arousal to retrieve the soaked Ben Wa balls.
"If you want to cum, sit your ass on my desk and masturbate. This will be your last release before Master Grey returns," she explained.
I almost wanted to refuse out of pique, but I was so hot and bothered, and two weeks would be a long fucking time, especially if any of my ten pending punishments involved orgasm denial. I turned around, perching on her desk, pulling my feet up, letting my legs fall open wide. If Master Grey wanted to watch, I'd give him a show!
I made a meal of it. I slid my fingers between my labia, pushing them open, massaging the lips, dragging my fingers seductively up and down my folds. I hoped he had a zoom feature so he could get the full effect of my motions. I pressed three fingers into my pussy, almost fisting myself as I reclined on Mistress' desk. I used the finger of my other hand to probe my rosebud as I rocked my way to an explosive orgasm.
I then stood up, allowing my clothes to fall into place. Mistress offered me a few paper towels to clean myself up. Then I carried the clamps, belt and Ben Wa balls to her bathroom, cleaning and drying each item in turn, in order to place them in the case. When finished, I had two minutes to spare.
"Come back in a week and a half for your assigned treatments. After they are completed, I will give you your final instructions," she stated calmly. I left her office sans underwear, while wondering why all the humiliating events of today left me feeling better than my last few fucks.
Two weeks later, I stood outside a towering silver building at dusk on a Friday. As I entered the lobby, a tall intimidated blonde gentleman escorted me to the elevator. He never spoke to me. He looked at me, and I gazed down as he entered a code into the elevator panel. We quickly ascended to the penthouse apartment. The elevator doors opened, we walked into a huge foyer. Everything was in shades of white, even the floor. The man, who had not yet identified himself, motioned me to to remain where I was.
He returned a minute or two later, only saying, "Mr. Grey will see you now."
He escorted me further into the living room, and disappeared quickly into the shadows of the vast apartment. I looked up at the sound of feet passing across the floor. A very gorgeous, tall man stood in artfully ripped and faded jeans, shirtless and barefoot.
"So, I've heard someone's been a very bad girl."