The Accidental Billionaires Series

Chapter 10

"Miss Rhodes."

"Oh, Sir," Anita said, opening her eyes. Marshall had brought a couple pillows over to the futon pad and curled under a blanket with her while she came back from her deep subspace again. She'd actually fallen asleep for a few minutes before she'd started to return. A fuzzy smile crossed her face, and he watched her slip into a little blissful space. 'Oh," she said again, and frowned. "Oh, I am so sorry, Sir." She started to slip sideways, away from him, but he kept his arm around her, kept her close.

He pointed to a bottle of sweetened water, with some good bread and cheese on a small tray on the floor beside her. After she'd had a bit to eat and drink, he said, "What are you apologizing for? Taking your first ass f*****g like a champ?"

"No, Sir."

"For waiting until my command, and then having five massive orgasms for me?"

Anita frowned again. "Three, Sir."

"Five. Two of them while you were in subspace."

"How is that even possible, Sir?"

"Your mind may be elsewhere, but your body stays. It still has the same nervous system, the same neurotransmitters."

Anita nodded, but did not say anything else.

"You must be talking about when you called me a f*****g bastard?"

She lowered her eyes and tried to look away, but he put a hand on her cheek to prevent it.

"We're in aftercare right now, Miss Rhodes. No punishment happens during that time, and you may speak freely about anything you experienced during the session without consequences. That being said, you will be punished for that severe indiscretion, but not right now."

"I don't know what came over me, Sir. I should have been much more mindful."

"I was hoping that putting the flogger in front of you as a reminder would have helped."

"It did, Sir, until I let myself surrender."

"Surrender?" Marshall asked.

"Yes." Anita recounted the experience of mentally transforming the pain of the experience, of learning to ride the wave of it and transcend it to find it could actually become a powerful pleasure like she'd never experienced before.

Marshall asked her several questions about her experience. He was endlessly fascinated by the different ways that Submissives had of turning torture into something so very different. The conversation confirmed for him that Anita was someone very special. Her submission was something so fundamental to her it may as well have been written into her DNA, she had just never truly had the ability to express it so freely before. She did not yet have all the vocabulary to define her experiences, but that did not stop her from having them.

By the time they'd finished, he could see that her eyes were clear again, she could speak steadily, and her breathing was even. He stood up and had her kneel tall for him.

"This isn't waterproof," he said, reaching behind her neck to unbuckle the collar. As soon as he took it off her neck, he saw her posture change, from being proud to serve him, to looking lost, small, and unsure. He kissed the top of her head, and said, "This is only a symbol. It does not define you, it just communicates our roles to each other and to anybody else who will ever see us in an environment like this." Marshall grabbed a handful of her hair and gave her head a twist to the side. "You're still my little toy, collar or no."

"Or course, Sir," she said.

"Stay here. I need to use the restroom. Then you may use it, and I want you to start a shower for us."

"Yes, Sir."

He watched her carefully as she walked to the bathroom when it was her turn. She was definitely tender, so he mentally removed any more penetrative play with her bottom from his mental list of options for the weekend. He had not expected her to encourage him so heartily to make rough use of her, and she would need some time to recover.

Marshall waited until he heard the water running to go in and join her. She had set the water almost scaldingly hot, and seemed to be relishing it. He slipped in with her, and told her to wash him, head to toe.

She was awkward at first while washing him, but slowly found a good balance between effectiveness and sensuality. As he'd expected, after doing a thorough job with soap and water on his c**k, she also went for a spit shine. She very clearly enjoyed it, and was nicely talented, but he'd just shot twice in under two hours. In the very hot and steamy shower, she wasn't going to get him all the way. She'd glanced up at him a few times, and Marshall figured that she was aware of that, but was doing it for the pleasure of providing the service.

As he'd reached the limit of the pleasure he'd receive from her attention, she gave him one last full-shaft lick, and stood up.

"Now yourself," he told her, so he could watch her rub soap all over her body.

After the shower was finished and they had dried off, he allowed her a few extra minutes to arrange her hair. He selected a pair of soft lounge pants and a loose linen shirt and sat down in the Throne to watch the city go on with its routine. He thought of the offices of his company, just a few stories down from where he was. It was early afternoon on a Friday. Plenty of people were already out for the weekend, but there were still a good number of his employees still working, completely oblivious to the beautiful depravity their company's founder was indulging in just a few dozen feet above their heads. The boring old corpses of the Board were in their beautifully appointed offices, obsessing over their fractions of a percent of return on investments. They thought he was taking a day to do market research in the quiet of the office in his condo. If they had any idea that he was just up in a hidden apartment on the roof, flogging and f*****g a beautiful young woman, it would probably give them heart attacks.

"Sir, what is your desire now?"

He looked over his shoulder. Anita was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, naked.

"I noticed you'd dressed very nicely for me this morning. Put your underclothes and heels back on, then bring your collar here to me."

He saw a very happy smile cross her face at the instruction to put her cute wrappings back on for him. She had made a very definite effort to make a nice presentation for him. He wanted to respect that by allowing her to show off a bit. When she took up a kneeling tall position in front of him, he gave her another once-over, standing up and circling her to make sure he got the front and rear views both. Marshall had to admit that she really had chosen well. The style and color both suited her very well. She had probably not planned it, but the cut of the bra, the amount of bare skin above it, worked very well with the collar.

"How is that?" he asked.

"I am very happy to have it back on, Sir."

"Good. Go to the kitchen. Set the table. There is food in the oven that will be ready to come out in..." he leaned back to look at a clock. "Six minutes. There are also two containers in the refrigerator labeled as 'Friday Dinner'. Put those on the table as well. Pour me a small glass of wine. You may have a small amount for yourself, as well, if you'd like."

Anita said, "Yes, Sir," but also looked a little bit perplexed.

"I had The Retreat stocked for us on Thursday night. While you were in subspace, I started the prep while I went to get you fruit and water for when you woke."

Anita nodded, and went to set up for dinner. Marshall stayed on the Throne, looking out over the city. The Retreat always had a lovely view, but sitting there, feeling content for the first time in months, he was seeing it with fresh eyes again. The young woman doing her best to quietly set plates and flatware on the table behind him had him feeling sexually sated for a while - but still looking forward to more. He was pleased with her performance as she learned how to submit to him. He was tremendously glad that she'd caught his eye that morning in the cafeteria, and that he'd gotten a chance to see the work she did for his company, even if she had been cut out of the demonstration entirely.

His first few submissives, when he'd discovered the joys of the kinky life, had been empty and vapid creatures. Mindlessly obedient, they did what they were told, exactly, and without thought. None of them would have passed his test to find their way into The Playground. He could have stayed in there for three days, and come out to find them still in the living room, dead on the floor of dehydration because they were going to do what he said but they were unable to figure out how to do it.

So Marshall started to seek out smarter women. They were more challenging to him. He had to figure each one out, try to find what motivated them to serve, and use that. They were also immensely more enjoyable than the little sub-bots that were so easy to find. Once Marshall found out what an intelligent woman needed to make her want to submit to him, her service was so much more satisfying to him. In the process of getting inside of them, it seemed they got inside of him as well, and learned how to anticipate his needs and desires and how to best fulfill them.

In one corner of the windows, Marshall could see a reflection of the kitchen, where Anita worked. Her arrival on the roof after she'd been fired was something he never would have expected. How the universe ever conspired to bring her up there while he was sneaking a forbidden cigarette, he couldn't tell. But it did, and that chance encounter had kicked into motion a chain of events that had the two of them in The Retreat enjoying some quiet contentment. There would be one more test the woman would have to pass if she were to become a permanent fixture in his life. It would be a hard one, one that every other woman he'd subjected to it had failed.

Anita came into the living room and knelt down before him. As had become her habit, she bent over and kissed the tops of his feet. He'd never demanded that out of a Submissive before and couldn't imagine ever wanting anybody else to do it. The act was so essentially Anita, so perfectly a part of how she chose to submit.

"Dinner is ready, Sir."

"Thank you, Miss Rhodes. Please, follow."

She waited until he got up and started walking to the kitchen before she stood. She had set the table so that one setting had a view through the living room and out the windows. The other was set beside it and faced the kitchen counters. There was a little more wine in the setting that faced the windows. Marshall noted with approval how she'd made that arrangement, keying in on his love for the view, setting herself so she did not obstruct it, and was close at hand for anything he needed. She also took a view toward appliances, by sitting to his right, whereas the seat to his left would have given her a view of the artwork on the wall. Also, taking less wine than she poured for him showed that she understood that he deserved more than her.

After they sat, Marshall kept his hands on the table, waiting, while Anita sat with her eyes down and hands folded in her lap. A few seconds passed, then she glanced over at him and quickly assessed the moment. She nodded her head in that way he noticed she did when she figured something out and started to make a plate for him.

"Good. You may serve yourself now," Marshall said, as he started to eat. Once she had set herself up, he said, "You have been doing well with your punishment so far, and your service has been good. Other than your little verbal indiscretion that we'll still need to deal with, I am pleased, Miss Rhodes."

"Is there any way I can improve, Sir?"

"There is nothing else requiring immediate correction," he said. "For now, tell me something interesting about yourself that not many people know. It doesn't have to be anything I can use against you, but if it is, all the better. Like the fear you used to have of tall buildings when you were younger. I find things like that about people fascinating."

Anita chewed in silence, looking at her plate, concentration clear on her face.

"Come now, Miss Rhodes. I wouldn't have you up here if I didn't think you were interesting. Prove to me that you're worth my effort and time."

"Would you like to know about the strangest thing I've ever done for money, Sir?"

Marshall laughed. 'I'm assuming it wasn't something as pedestrian as prostitution or dancing to pay your way through college?"

"I've never engaged in anything of the sort. Except for this one time that I let a man lock me in an apartment and tie me to things and do all sorts of horrible things to my body in lieu of calling security on me for trespassing, Sir."

"Don't be so insolent, Miss Rhodes. Your mouth is in enough trouble as it is."

"Yes, Sir," Anita said, taking a sip of water. "The strangest thing I've ever been paid for involved sitting on a pedestal, in a copper lamé kimono with small UV LEDs embedded in it, folding origami cranes out of fluorescent paper for five nights as part of an art installation."

"Ah, yes," Marshall said. "Was it the Bas Andres exhibit at the Gallery of Modern and Contemporary Art, five years ago?"

"No, Sir. The artist was Jacqueline Parr, but it was at the GMCA. I had wanted to be in the angelfish piece, but it turns out I was far better at folding paper than pretending to swim while wearing a gigantic costume, Sir."

"How did you end up taking part?"

"I was taking a dance class for the PE credits when Miss Parr came by looking for performers, Sir."

"It is a shame Miss Parr and the gallery both forbade photography or video of the event."

"Each of the performers was allowed to keep a single picture of themselves from the dress rehearsal, Sir. If I may be allowed to use my phone, I would be happy to show it to you."

"Not right now. I do not allow such devices at the table, or while someone is in a collared state."

"Of course, Sir."

"That is an interesting habit of yours. Saying 'Of course,' as a response to a variety of my instructions or statements." Marshall took the last bite from his plate, and pushed his chair back a little bit, so he could lean back. He picked up his glass and swirled his dark red wine.

"Much of the time, I think I use it as my acknowledgement that I am in your reality, Sir."

"Hmmm," Marshall said, taking a sip of wine and looking out toward the windows. He sat there, pondering the person who was next to him, finishing her meal. She was very fastidious in her motions, used a very gentle touch to keep her silverware from clinking on the plate or table, and did the same with her wine and water glasses.

"When you are finished, clear the table. I assume I don't need to micromanage that process for you, Miss Rhodes?"

"No, Sir. My only question is whether I should run the dishwasher at this time."

"Yes. It is a very quiet model, and our next activities will be in The Playground again, where we won't hear it anyways."

"Yes, Sir."

"After that, in the bathroom, you will find a toothbrush and related items in the left-hand drawer of the vanity. There are two tubes of toothpaste, one of which has a black band around it. Floss, and then brush with that tube. Take the bra off, but leave the rest on for me. Put the rest of your clothes into the small hamper in the bedroom."

"Yes, Sir," Anita said. Marshall could see her mentally repeating the details to herself.

"Report to The Playground then. The blackout mask is set on the table behind the cross, beneath the display of floggers on the wall. In the right most chest of drawers, top drawer, there is an item made of pink leather and metal in the center divider. Left-most chest of drawers, bottom drawer, there are several colors of rope. Select..." He looked over her body appraisingly. "Four lengths of the pink rope. Kneel, and arrange all of the items neatly before you, and tell me that you are ready to be punished. We're going to do something about that uncivil tongue you have in your mouth, Miss Rhodes."

"Of course, Sir," Anita said.

Marshall saw that she clearly had a hard time swallowing her next sip of water for the anticipation of what he was about to do to her. That pleased him.

He went back to his Throne to finish his wine and relax while he listened to Anita tending to the chores he'd set her. When she got to the step of crossing the living room to pick up her clothing from the doorway of The Playground he noticed that she did not pass in front of him, interrupting his view of the city. But, reflected in the glass, he watched her look at the windows, and briefly catch sight of him reflected back at her. She lowered her head and moved very slowly behind him. She did not yet have that posture fully internalized yet. She needed to learn to always keep that deferent posture when she was collared, not just when she was aware that he could see her. He made a mental note to instill work on that with her.

"I am ready for my punishment, Sir." Her voice sounded odd, a little bit slurred. He smiled. It was working.

He stepped into The Playground, and she was kneeling on the floor. The four lengths of pink rope were lined up neatly in front of her. Forward of those was the eye mask. Farthest from her and closer to him, she'd set the spider gag. It was a leather strap, with a metal ring mounted to it. Four prongs extended out from the ring, perpendicular to it. It was designed to be strapped around somebody's head, with the prongs inside their mouth holding the jaw wide open. By the look on her face and the way she worked her tongue inside her mouth, Marshall could tell that Anita had figured out what was in store for her.

There was a small end table beside the doorway to The Playground. Marshall took a condom out of the drawer and slipped it into the pocket of his lounge pants. The toothpaste he'd had her use contained a strong local anesthetic, and it wouldn't do at all for it to numb him.

"When your behavior has been seriously out of line, I will use pink items on you. That is an indication that you have seriously displeased me."

"Of course, Sir," Anita said, her tongue thick and clumsy in her mouth.

"You will not, under any circumstances, enjoy what I am about to do to you. You will not retreat into your subspace. You will suffer through it, am I clear?"

"Perfectly, Sir."

-End of book 2.