In Service To The Billionaire

by Heather Chase

  Sophia tried to remember what the nurse estimated—somewhere in the middle of the five figure range.

  “I can take care of that,” he said.

  Surprise filled Sophia. “What? No. I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that—”

  “This Elle, she is your person, right?”

  “I mean, she’s my best friend, and I love her to death—”

  “Then I’ll take care of it. She deserves to be well. I’ll make a few calls.”

  “S-San...” she stopped. “Master. That’s just so...I couldn’t ask for that.”

  “You’re not asking. You told me about something that needed fixing, and I’m fixing it,” he said matter-of-factly. “Not everything is so simple. I can at least do that for you.”

  It felt like a large, warm cloud surrounded her—lifting her up and spreading her thoughts out. Comforting, and yet eerie and unfamiliar at the same time. Was this what it was like to have someone take care of you?

  Sand changed the subject. “Are you okay? I know that must have been stressful.”

  “Yeah, I think so. It’s just...it’s all so fragile, you know?” she said, trying to search out her feelings. “A whole life could be...destroyed. Just like that. It’s scary.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  She laughed a little—everything about him was so understated.

  “That doesn’t scare you?” she asked.

  With her eyes closed, she could visualize his broad shoulders shrugging as he said, “I feel like that’s the truth anyway—that it could all be taken away. And I think that when I consider it, it can be scary. But it’s the truth whether I’m scared by it or not. I choose not to be scared.”

  Sophia didn’t say anything to that, in wonder at his strength.

  “Are you still there?” he asked after a minute.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m just really overwhelmed.”

  “Do you need anything from me?”

  Feeling cold on the floor of her apartment, she felt naked and totally alone. There was so much to be afraid of in the world.

  She sighed. “I just need you to hold me, right now. But I know you’re so busy, and I don’t want to ask you to come over, and—”

  “Ten minutes,” he said, and hung up.

  She didn't believe him, of course. Or rather—she absolutely believed he was on his way, but to say he would be there in ten minutes, after coming from downtown, was a bit of an exaggeration.

  And yet, ten minutes later, on the dot, she heard a helicopter outside. She looked out her window when she heard it approaching more and more, the sound of the chopping blades growing louder and louder. It landed briefly at the cul-de-sac at the end of her street, and Sand stepped out of it—and then it flew off again.

  Amazement rushed through her. A helicopter—to this neighborhood—for her! It was such an extravagant gesture.

  She ran out of her apartment to meet him, the cool air of the early afternoon sweeping over her. From across the street, neighbors leaned out of their houses to see what the racket was. A long, steady blush swept up through Sophia's neck and face, imagining all those people knowing what she was up to.

  He approached her duplex, dressed casually in a blue button-up shirt and a pair of khakis. A gold watch adorned his wrist. She grabbed his hands and then his shirt, finding it hard to believe he was actually there all of a sudden.

  “You-you—you rode a helicopter to get to me?”

  He shrugged. “I said ten minutes. It was a thirty minute drive. So...helicopter.”

  “It’s just...rather extravagant.”

  She found herself using that word a lot when it came to him. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she thought.

  “You needed me,” he pushed closer to her. “And here I am.”

  Right there in the street, with all her neighbors watching, he embraced her. His lips crushed against hers, the cool wind blowing against them both.

  For several moments, Sophia just enjoyed that feeling. Knowing everyone who lived around her was watching, and her absolutely and completely not caring what they thought. All she had to do was be her Master's.

  Soon, she led him inside, smiling in-turns shyly and seductively at him, and they tumbled down into her big, floral napping couch.

  She expected him to kiss her again, but he did not. Instead, he gripped her and pulled her into his lap tight, holding her so securely. She sat entirely in his lap, legs wrapped around him, her head trapped under his chin. She dotted little kisses along his chest and neck.

  Suddenly, he stood up, holding her still, and came down on the couch with her underneath him. He held her down like that. His weight on her, so reassuring, so complete. His fingertips dug securely into her back, riding along her spine, eliciting purrs from her happily-compliant frame.

  “Oh, Master,” she moaned into his ear, her grip tightening around him. “Oh, my Master.”

  And she knew, for certain, that “Master” could have been replaced with any number of words. Darling. Lover. Love.

  Husband?

  Chapter 14

  Saturday morning, she woke in her own bed with Sand's arms around her. For several seconds—as she had the day before—she simply let herself enjoy the feeling. Today, she prayed silently, there would be no phone calls to tear her away from his perfect grip around her body.

  After several hours of quiet, affectionate cuddling on the couch the night before, they had retired to her small twin-sized bed, where Sand had made gentle, passionate love to her. It had not been as intense as their first time, but it still was intensely pleasurable and he had made her cum. Again.

  God. Just thinking about that gave her a little chill.

  The only way she had cum with Todd was if he had fallen asleep next to her and she still needed to get off. She would snuggle up under his arm and pretend he was holding her while she fingered her clit.

  But with Sand...with Sand, she had been able to stare up into his eyes and know just when he was going to cum—and know that he had been saving his most furious strokes for when he saw her own bliss overtake her body.

  For several minutes, she kissed his forehead and eyebrows, and then the bridge of his nose, and then back up to his forehead again.

  Finally, his eyes fluttered open. Smiling, he kissed the nape of her neck and then started trailing down to her bare chest. She giggled and hugged him closer.

  “Thank you again for showing up last night how you did,” she said. “And for taking care of the bills for Elle. I mean, that’s all so...so really, really wonderful of you.”

  He gripped her tight. “Of course. I was happy to.”

  “It’s just...” she bit her lip. “...with all of this being so new for the two of us, I wasn’t really expecting anything like that.”

  “I know,” he said. “But you should. You have to understand, Sophia. For me, this isn’t...” his strong face squirmed for a moment. “I don’t want a temporary fling with you. I want to take care of you, and who and what you care about. This isn’t me experimenting with my sexuality. This is how I am.”

  Suddenly, she realized he was looking for reassurances. That all this effort on his part wasn’t for nothing. Of course.

  She held him tight, burying her head into that perfect spot between his neck and shoulders. It was so safe there, so warm.

  “Oh, yes,” she nodded. “Me too. I mean, me definitely. I’m...I want...”

  He waited. She took a breath, and pulled back to look into his dark eyes.

  “I love having you as my Master. I want to be your good slave. I want to be yours.”

  And nagging at every word—tell him, tell him, tell him! Tell him about your engagement, you silly person! You tell him or you will ruin all of this! He deserves to know that you're leaving a kind of complicated situation to be with him. Because if you're his slave, that means your situation is now his situation.

  And yet, she couldn't say it.

  Part of her didn't even know wh
y. It was fear, she supposed. And maybe just dismissiveness? Todd was out of her life—he really was. She hadn't even put on the engagement ring for over a month!

  He caressed her chin. “That’s good. As hot as the sex is—and man, it's hot—I care about more than that. You are worth more to me than that, and I am worth more to me than that. You're going to be my slave...but you're not disposable, all right? This isn't about abuse.”

  She nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes. I never got that idea at all.”

  “Good. I just...wanted to make sure. I've had some encounters in the past with girls who...were very bright flames. But they wanted a light I couldn't provide.”

  It hadn't even begun to occur to Sophia that there was something that her Master couldn't provide.

  “I understand, I think,” she said. “But no, I like it when you use me. How you did the other night, for example.”

  She smiled, licking and nibbling his chin a bit. He laughed small and turned away.

  “You used me quite well, Sir. The spanking, I liked that too. But I don't want anything too...extreme. Like what it seems you're describing.”

  He nodded. “Good, then. This isn't about blowing off fumes, for either of us.”

  “Right,” she said.

  Even if she was mad at Todd, the sex and the attraction had never been about him. He wasn't around for her to make him jealous, after all.

  “So for you, and for me, this is a lifestyle,” he confirmed. “When we're alone, I am your Master, you are my slave.”

  A hot thrill ran through her body when he just announced it like that. “Yes, Master.”

  He smiled. “At work, you and I can be colleagues. I’m your boss there, still.”

  “Of course.”

  He gripped her chin. She melted again—god, he was so fucking strong!

  “But when it is only you and I...” his voice became husky and dark. “I expect you to behave like a good slave.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she purred.

  Tell him, her mind screamed at her again. Tell him now! Tell him you have a fiancé you idiot! You have to tell him! He deserves to know about your life!

  Instead, though, she said, “I need the rest of the day to go attend to Elle...but after that, Sir, I would like to be with you, if you’d allow.”

  He kissed her again. “Of course.”

  Rolling out of bed, he rummaged through his pants and found his wallet.

  “Take this,” he said, handing her a black card with a series of white vertical stripes on it. “It will let you in my condo. I expect you to be prepared.”

  “Thank you,” she said, meaning it.

  It must have taken a lot for him to trust her enough to enter his condo whenever she wanted. And Sand, she knew from his ridiculously long to-call list, was not a man who delivered his attention lightly.

  “I also want you to take this.”

  She saw the sparkling rectangle in his hands, not quite believing. It was a platinum diamond credit card. Before two seconds ago, she had no idea such a thing even existed.

  “This is yours, now. I want you dressing...nice, from now on.”

  “Nice?” She drew her legs up underneath her, tossing her hair back and posing a bit. “I don't look nice already?”

  He stood up tall—dwarfing her physically. She loved that: his chiseled size, his fierce physicality.

  “You look very nice.” He scratched his chin, admiring her naked body on the bed. “Imagine yourself as my personal whore. I own you, I own your body. If you want me to use it, then you should decorate it appropriately.”

  Now that was an exciting thought.

  * * * * *

  Elle was conscious when Sophia arrived in her room, holding a small bouquet of flowers she picked up at the small grocery store next to where she parked, across the street from the hospital.

  “Hey, friend,” said Elle.

  Her voice was groggy, but her eyes seemed alert. Already, more of the bandages had been taken off from her face and body—revealing sharp red and purple bruises in long patches on her skin. But, Sophia supposed less bandages was better.

  “Hey! You’re awake!”

  Sophia leaned in for a hug, and then remembered to take it easy. She kissed Elle on her cheek—the one that was still unbandaged.

  “I thought they said you’d be out for another couple of days, at least!”

  “Well,” Elle shrugged, and then winced a bit at the movement. “What can I say? I’m tough.”

  “You totally are.”

  Sophia put the flowers on the stand next to Elle's bed. They were a spring mixture of white and pink daisies, and light violet irises.

  “I got these for you.”

  Elle smiled. “They're lovely. Thank you.”

  Sophia took a seat next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Oh, I'm okay. I've got the television,” she pointed at the set posted in the top corner of the room, “so I do okay.”

  “Good. Can I get you anything?”

  Elle shook her head, slowly. “No, I don't think so.”

  “Some crosswords or something?” Elle was a notoriously ferocious cruciverbalist, odd definitions and random trivia always popping up in the middle of her conversations. Sophia snapped her fingers. “I should have brought some already. They even had a few books at the store. I can't believe I forgot. I'll tell you what—”

  “—Sophia.” Elle held up a hand. “It's fine, seriously.” She pointed at the chair next to Sophia. “I've got the newspaper and everything. That's enough. To tell you the truth, I'm not in the mood for any super-verbage right now.”

  Sophia laughed a bit. “Right. I'm sorry.”

  “No, thank you. Thank you for everything. The nurses keep telling me all about this valiant friend who sped down here and threatened to cut someone’s head off if she didn’t get to see me.”

  Sophia laughed, blushing. “I didn’t threaten to cut anyone’s head off.”

  Elle's smile only grew. “They told me that you were going to cut all the heads off you could see and then try and sell them on the black market. You were setting up some weird organ transplant organization or something.”

  “Is that what they told you?”

  “They told me about the head cutting,” Elle teased. “I put the rest together myself.”

  Laughing, Sophia looked at the assortment of bags and tubes attached to Elle.

  “Are you on morphine?”

  Elle giggled. “A little bit.”

  They both laughed some more.

  “I guess,” Elle said, calming down, “I guess you called my parents?”

  Sighing, Sophia frowned and pushed back in the seat. “Yeah.”

  For a moment, somehow, Elle became even smaller within the confines of her bed. “Are they coming?”

  Sophia reached forward and held Elle's hand. “I don't know, babe. I'm sorry.”

  They were each quiet for a time. God, Sophia just felt so bad for Elle—her own family, practically disowning her because sometimes she liked girls as well as boys! It was insane to Sophia, to just write off someone's whole life because of that.

  Desperate to change the subject, Sophia decided to bring up the issues at hand in her own life. Maybe Elle could give her some advice? Certainly she had a nice lens on alternative lifestyles with as involved as she was with the LGBT community.

  “Can I tell you something?”

  Elle made a face. “Of course you can. What is it?”

  Sophia took a breath. “I found a guy. A man. He’s...he’s really great. He’s what I wanted.”

  “Like, what you wanted, as in, a dominant guy?”

  Sophia smiled happily. “Yep.”

  “I was wondering about why you weren't answering my text. Have you slept with him already?”

  Sheepish, Sophia nodded again.

  “Did you sleep with him last night?”

  Sheepish again, Sophia shrugged and nodded.

  “With your best friend in the hospital.”
Elle tsked. “That’s low.”

  Sophia’s head fell.

  “I was kidding! Gosh.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just that...I don’t know. I feel like a terrible person, doing this to Todd.”

  Elle's eye roll was practically a force of nature in the small room—Sophia could have sworn there was a wind produced by it.

  “Don’t worry about him, I keep telling you. He's a dick, he hurt you. Plus you guys said no questions asked, right? You think he's not knees-deep in European pussy?”

  Truth be told, Sophia hadn't thought about it that much. “I don't know.”

  “I do. Knees-deep, I'm telling you. Don't worry about him. You focus on you, now. What's he like? How'd you meet him?”

  Slightly embarrassed with the whole tale—mostly due to the outrageous good fortune that she had been gifted with over the past week or so—Sophia blushed and started to dish about Sand to her friend.

  * * * * *

  After meeting with Elle, Sophia spent the rest of the entire day shopping. Elle encouraged this.

  “He'll be insulted if you don't spend his money, god. It would be like not reading a story that a writer gives you. You can't just let it be hanging around. Wealth is how men like him express himself.”

  Sophia wanted to believe she was right. And so, she let the endorphin high of mass-spending camouflage and deflect any doubts that were creeping up around her belly.

  A card with no limit, on someone else’s dime! It was like a dream. All of this was a dream.

  She went to the high class shopping district deep downtown and visited the Hanger, Le Shoppe, Numan-Mason’s, all the most premium shops in town. Her spending seemed to know no bounds—she bought silk dresses, hot evening gowns, sexy skirts, cute tops, designer shoes, incredibly-designed boots, and of course, expensive lingerie.

  Deep in the afternoon, a bit tired out and ready to go home, she stopped in front of a rack of fur coats in the middle of Le Shoppe. One in particular stood out to her—a black sable jacket with a short hood.

  Curious, she took a look at the price tag—and her green eyes went wide. Heart fluttering, she stepped back from the coat like it was filled with rattlesnakes.

  Twenty. Thousand. Dollars.

  And she could afford it.