Poor Little Rich Slut (4 page)

It was my turn to smirk. All of a sudden, I felt like a bashful little kid. I stared around, remembering now that we were in the corporate cafeteria. Virtually alone, yes, but still it seemed too public for a private confession.
But my old self, the one that ruled me just days ago—who would have taken this conversation to some lonely, deserted street corner, if she continued it at all—had vanished.
I pressed on.

“I have all sorts of exhibitionist fantasies, which I’m sure come from being so damned careful in public all the time… and spanking fantasies,” I boldly reported.

“Really?
I must have hit the mark Friday night.”

“It’s some kind of punishment thing with me. I don’t understand it, but in my daydreams, I do something outrageous then get punished for it.
Like I need to keep the scales balanced.
I may look like a straight-laced MBA grad with a stick up her butt, but I am really just a woman with a lot of very naughty desires rattling around my brain.”

“Humph.” He actually seemed impressed.

Meanwhile, my heart was thumping and my crotch was beginning to ache for everything that wasn’t expressed in my brush with freedom Friday night. Oh, I did want more! I knew it more than ever now.

“It’s what I think about when I masturbate.
Every time.
It never changes. Yes, you hit the mark Friday night. But I want more.” I was so stirred; I could feel myself ready to spill out everything that was in my heart and on my mind. How could this be happening? I felt beholden to a man I barely knew, as if he had the key to the lock that would open the door of my sexual awakening.

He said nothing, while I wondered for the umpteenth time if this was a foolish mistake. I finally broke the impasse. “You know, I think I’d better go. I’m sorry again about Friday.” I started to leave—hoping he’d pull me back. He probably knew exactly what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Thank you for taking care of me, now how about we just forget
we
ever…”

He had his hand on my wrist; his palm felt like fire on my skin. He wasn’t about to let go. “You want to follow the
rules,
I’ll play the game, Eleanor. But the game is mine.”
Dead serious.

I was speechless then, feeling like mush inside and unable to form even a squawk. When my brain finally started working again, I managed to ask rather weakly, “So, what are the
other
rules?”

He thought a moment. “There are none. Just do everything I say. If you balk even a little, I’ll lay a cane or paddle or my hand on your ass. And you might not like it as much as you liked it Friday night.”

I shivered visibly, blushing as I became aware that he knew exactly what I was feeling as he spanked my ass behind John’s carriage house.

Seeing my worried look, he shook his head a little in dismay. “It’s too much, isn’t it? You can’t be that brave or that vulnerable?”

“Oh, but I can,” I found my voice.

“I’ll bet you fold in the first week.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Positive.”

“You have any idea what this might mean?”

“No, not really.”

“But you’ll still…”

“I will, Garrison.”

He appraised me again, not looking at all confident. It was for me to prove myself and I was so ready.

“You do have it bad, don’t you?”

I grimaced. “I must. I’ve never allowed myself to be this helpless, this exposed to anyone,” said as if that was another revelation.

“I know, Heiress.”

“But it’s just between you and me, that’s all I ask.”

“Hey, don’t go making up your own rules,” he warned, although he added to my relief, “but I promise, we’ll be discreet. You have my word.”

“Yes, that’s the point, isn’t it?
Discreet.”

“The point is you having a little harmless sexual fun.”

It sounded so simple, so innocuous. And why should I worry? Why shouldn’t I trust him? Why shouldn’t I have this too, among all the other prizes I had earned? “Daddy did tell you to look after me, right?”

He laughed.

A day after my agreement with Garrison Tate, my father whisked into town from
Italy
,
announcing that he was throwing a party for me to officially announce my position as Editor-in-Chief of
Country Manor Magazine.
It would be an impromptu affair, arranged on the spur of the moment, for a guest list of at least 200. Despite the short notice, very few would decline what was sure to be an understated but elegant society affair. Obviously, it would be held at our Country Manor—that fact to the dismay of the staff. Although they were used to Gordon Rule’s fast timing, they didn’t like sudden decisions like this one any more than I did. I did respect the fact that it was a PR event that would be good for my magazine and me. Strange, though, with my priorities suddenly shifting in a different direction, I greeted Daddy’s announcement with a less than enthusiastic response. My raw insides were burning with need, but suddenly Garrison was practically shunning me. Either he’d changed his mind about our secret sexual agreement or was waiting until the party was over to begin. A week passed and there’d been no talk of sex in any of our many conversations, whether public or behind closed doors. Maybe I’d just dreamed the whole idea!

The day before the party, I met him in the corridor just beyond the water cooler and was suddenly surprised to feel his hand on my ass, giving me an unexpected jolt. I reminded myself not to object. “Ever done it in a broom closet?” he whispered in my ear.

“I’ve never done it,” I reminded him.

“Right.
Well, you’ll get your chance. Meet me in my office, two minutes.”

“Office?”

“Yes, I’m horny.”

“I thought you said broom closet?”

“That’s for another time. I want you in my office now.”

“You know, now is not really a good time.” It really wasn’t. “I have to leave for the house in less than an hour.”

“This won’t take long.”

Don’t object, Eleanor. Just stay calm.

“Okay, I’m just so jittery about tomorrow.”

He smiled.
“In my office.”
I rather liked the threatening sound of it and the submissive way my body replied to his tone of voice. But was he really going to rent my virginity in his office?

The office was bustling with activity just after lunch. There were deadlines as pressing on Garrison and me as they were on the rest of our staff, and of course the party that everyone would be involved in. Regardless of all the commotion, once I closed Garrison’s office door behind me and looked at the scoundrel’s face, I was in another world. I moved closer to his desk, waiting, trembling, trying to act poised when I was no more than a bundle of frayed nerves and anxious fear.

It was so quiet, as if there was no one around for miles. I could almost hear my heart beating. Garrison’s leather chair creaked, and way off in the distance beyond the doors, if I really concentrated, I could hear the sound of ringing telephones blended with the muted sounds of footsteps moving back and forth.

Garrison sat back in his chair looking lordly and smug. “So, let me see you,” he said.

“See me?” I questioned.

“Strip.”

I opened my mouth, but stopped, letting out a croaking sound. Yes, this was it. This was the beginning. A minute of utter silence followed as the furnace inside me blazed. I felt a little dizzy as I took off my suit coat and began to unbutton my blouse. I couldn’t look at him at first.
At least not until he prompted me and I was forced to.

“Eleanor, look at me.” Just a simple command and I wanted to run from the room.

But such a strange exhilaration!

I finally lifted my eyes and stared into his, licking my lips and feeling a blush heat my cheeks.

“Take off the blouse,” he said.

Yes, right.

I finished the unbuttoning and shrugged the blouse off my shoulders, unveiling another layer of clothes. Quickly stepping from my skirt, while trying to keep my eyes on Garrison, I felt readily diminished in a way I’d anticipated. Maybe like a call girl with her first john. Even with my outer clothes removed, I was hardly naked. The white lace slip came next, slithering down my torso and over my hips. The exposure was getting more serious now and I started to sweat. My breathing felt irregular and I almost thought I would faint.

While I trembled anxiously, Garrison remained remote and watchful, but unresponsive to my awkward striptease. Once I was down to my panties and bra, I would have given anything if he’d come to me then and we got the hard part, the first fuck, out of the way.

I didn’t realize that I completely stopped moving until Garrison prompted me again. “I mean naked, Heiress, all the way down to your birthday suit.”

Yes, of course, I heard my silent reply.

My bra was the plain white, Victoria Secret type, seamless and not very sexual. It slipped from my torso unveiling two firm, round globes of flesh. Even I, in my sexual modesty, knew I was generously, attractively endowed. At the center of each one, a rosy round aureole surrounded a tiny nipple. I suppose Garrison had seen as much that night behind the carriage house, but now my assets were in full view, bathed in the garish office lighting, their flawless whiteness openly exposed.

He didn’t say a word to me until my panties joined the rest of my discarded clothes and I turned to face him, totally nude. I worried that he’d see how wet I was under the fluff of pubic hair at my crotch and now how aroused I really was.

“You did just fine, Eleanor.” His voice seemed deeper, a little grim but infused with authority I’d repeatedly refused to give him in business. And yet, that authority seemed perfectly appropriate and wanted now. “Now I want you to think about what you gave me the other day…you remember?”

How could I forget that day? But what exactly was he referring to?

“That was no meager agreement,” he said solemnly. I looked back at him distressed. Then suddenly, his face broke into one of his unseemly smiles and he appraised me lustily. “You know, you’ve got nice, nice tits,” he drawled, “and, what I can see of it, a good ass. Turn around and let me see.”

I turned, feeling his eyes bore into my backside until he said, “You can turn back.”

I did. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My mouth was parched with the desire in me continuing to swell. The waiting was impossible.

“Move to your knees, slut,” he suddenly barked. Without thinking I dropped to the carpet and bowed my head. “Now crawl to me.”

Why, why was I doing this
?
my
mind asked, as I made up the ten feet between us and buried my nose in the carpet beside him.

He grabbed my arm and tugged me upright. Holding my quivering chin in his hand, he stared me in the eyes. I’d never seen him like this and I was scared, but so enthralled I couldn’t move.

“When you’re naked like this, Heiress,” he spit out scornfully, “you can forget about being some hotshot MBA editor-in-chief. You’re a slut, just like every other woman is with her clothes off. You’re a body, a pair of tits, a fat ass and a wet cunt. Got that?”

I nodded my head yes.

“You’re gonna be used. You’re going to be punished. You’re going to feel like the fucking whore you really are. What you confessed to me is what you’ll get, every bit of it, from the hot, outrageous sex to the punishment you deserve. You begged me for this, don’t forget it. And when you want to call it quits, when you think I’m being too hard on you, you just remember, this was your idea. Frankly, I think you’ll walk away in a week in disgust. But don’t go blaming me if your little experiment with sex fails. It’ll be your
fault not mine
. Your
loss not mine
. I can have a hundred other women in a heartbeat. You’re just another piece of ass to me, no better than the rest, with a whole lot to prove. You got that?”

I nodded my head again, and he let go of my chin and sat back.

In all my wildest dreams I never imagined him being like this. I could not believe that I wasn’t slapping his face in total rage, but my body was so alive and wildly exhilarated hearing him speak to me that it hungered for more. The words were an aphrodisiac, the tone of voice, the air of command. He was being not just cocky, but a judgmental asshole, and I devoured his mood like I did my favorite candy.

“I ordered a dress for you for your little soiree at the Country Manor. Don’t worry; it’s decent, though I’m sure it’s not as prim as the one you planned on. Tonight, I want you to take a bath and shave your pubic hair, all of it stem to stern. Is that little slut maid Angelica still working for your Daddy?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Okay, you have her help you shave. Tell her it’s a favor to Garrison Tate. Then make love to her—no penetration, just make love.”

I could feel my objections start to rise and Garrison sensed that. He smiled a little cruelly.

“I don’t care if you gotta problem getting naked with the hired help. You’re going to do it because I told you to and because you want to. There’s no one on the face of the planet who doesn’t lust after that little bitch. Soon as you get over the shock, you’ll figure that out for yourself. Now,” he shifted positions, sitting up a little straighter, “as much as I’d like to fuck you right now, you have responsibilities, Miss Rule.
Time to get dressed and get moving.
I’ll see you tomorrow night.”