by Q. Zayne
She spread chunky peanut butter on sourdough and covered it in strawberry preserves. The email alert went off and she checked it.
The Billionaire’s Club. She licked her fingers then opened it. A short message. She read it twice. A time and place. Nothing warm and fuzzy at all. She felt a bit let down. She would have liked it if it had been signed by Gabriel. But maybe it was an automatic response sent to all candidates who met the minimum qualifications. At this point, a computer could probably scan her photo to determine if she met acceptable parameters, just as it was possible to hunt down faces on the Internet. It gave her a naked, eerie feeling when she thought of how much surveillance there was, everywhere, all the time. That’s one thing meditating on means of death gave her, it was a relief from feeling spied upon, because after you were gone, that was over. Unless you ran afoul of a necrophiliac, and apparently that did happen, though the funeral industry tried to keep it hushed up any time some employee was discovered violating corpses.
Hailey wished it was a letter, not an email. She didn’t have a printer set up, and she would have liked to have a piece of pricey paper with The Billionaires Club elegant logo. It was so abstract, she wasn’t sure what it meant though, although it seemed sexual, like a cigar used in an obscene way. Her face burned. She had a dirty mind.
The meeting was in a few hours, and she had no idea what to wear. She looked up the address online. It was a private air strip in the East Bay. She called a friend across the bay and arranged to loan him her car in exchange for a place to park it. It was the only way. Garage charges were astronomical, for those who could find a space in one, and if a resident left a car in the wrong place on the wrong day it would be towed and rack up hundreds in fees. A car was a luxury item in San Francisco, but she wouldn’t let it go, it was one of the few things she had left from her dad.
She copied the time and address from the email onto the back of a grocery list. There, that would do. Now she had her tangible thing to put in her pocket.
What on earth should she wear? She dug through her closet, shoving hangers each way like a manic shopper on a bender. She yanked out a sleek little business suit she got the last time she had to slap Alphonso’s face for reaching up her dress and pressing his hot, broad hand against her pussy. Yes, the interview suit. She’d imagined doing temp work, secretarial stuff. But the women she interviewed with gave her poisonous looks. She wasn’t sure if they were afraid she’d compete with them for their pathetic, pasty-faced businessman bulls or what, but she didn’t care when she found out how low the pay was. She could make more in tips in one weekend than those poor cubicle girls made all week.
A slow, hot, massaging shower soothed her interview jitters. She blew out her hair and let it fall in a sleek curtain behind her back, loose and swinging across the shoulders of the navy blue jacket that nipped her waist and hugged her grapefruit-sized breasts. The skirt was short and fitted with a kick pleat that gave her a breeze between the thighs and across the cheeks of her ass, left exposed by her black lace thong. She stepped into killer glossy black high heels with wide ankle straps and pointed toes. She had a feeling Gabriel was a man who appreciated sexy shoes. These had a hot, bondage-fetish look. The ultra high heels made her legs look even longer. With some smudged blue-gray shadow and red lips she looked ready to make a man’s day. Or a woman’s, though she’d never gone that way. Were there women billionaires on the island, or was it a stag scene? Guys pissing on trees and dressing in drag like school boys in their amateur plays the way they did at one of California’s most notorious gatherings of powerful men. She hoped not. Hailey had nothing against men playing dress-up, many men in San Francisco did drag supremely well, but it would rather ruin her heat for Gabriel to see him in stockings and panties. Just, no. What she delighted in about him was he seemed so exquisitely male, so confident and masculine in an old-fashioned way, that you rarely saw anywhere except in old movies, or sometimes in European men. Some guys — but not Alphonso — from Mediterranean countries had a naturalness about them. They could dance and fight and fuck, unlike American men who were programmed by big corporations and went around looking like they had sticks shoved up their asses. So many of the men downtown reeked of hair spray and looked like they spent more time at the mirror than she did. They seemed to have bought into the commercials that assured them they needed a different stinking product for everything, so most of them smelled like a fragrance-counter toxic spill. After she gave Rob his walking papers, she stopped dating. Serving cocktails gave her more than her fill of male attention. She didn’t hate men, she was just tired of sad brain-washed wieners who didn’t resemble men any more than she resembled a brain surgeon.
But Gabriel was something different. She hesitated at her closet, then grabbed her trench coat from the back. It seemed a good omen. At the door she grabbed Gabriel’s umbrella. It might give her an excuse to ask for him, if he didn’t show up to greet her.
She looked around the place, possessed by the odd idea that she might not be coming back. She put her plants in the dumb waiter and sent them down, scrawled a note.
Hailey found her way to the air strip with time to spare. She’d splurged on a cab from her friend’s place. Jackson was thrilled to have the use of the car. His mother was ill and lived two hours away. So the timing was wonderful. But Hailey didn’t say where she was going. There was the non-disclosure agreement, but it wasn’t that. It was more that she wanted to hold it to herself, keep it as her secret, for at least awhile longer. Now that she was on her way, it felt exciting, like the storybook adventure Gabriel’s card evoked. She couldn’t fool herself, most of all, she looked forward to seeing him again. That accident could have been so ugly, with some oaf or harridan screaming at her.
Her overnight bag thumped her bag as she ran toward the jet and the big man standing next to it checking his watch. She rushed over the wet pavement in the tip-toe steps that were all her high heels allowed.
It had to be Gabriel. Those broad shoulders, the trench coat whipping around his muscular thighs in the wind. His stance, the way stood there owning the world. It couldn’t be anyone else.
She recognized him as soon as she was close enough to see his blue-green eyes flashing at her, his gaze exposing her inch by inch, head to toe. Her trench coat blew around her hips, showing her clinging short skirt. She eyed him as thoroughly as he eyed her, noticing the watch with more dials than she’d ever seen on a man’s wrist, like a futuristic command center. He must control so many things. A man like that would think nothing of controlling her. What was she getting herself into? Dark clouds massed over a lone, long building beside the sleek jet. They seemed to be alone.
“Delicious. I knew you were perfect the instant you stepped out of your car looking like a cocktail waitress.”
She bit back telling him that she was a cocktail waitress. It didn’t matter, and maybe she wasn’t anymore. She could text Alphonso her resignation and then block him if she got this job.
“It’s good to see you again.” She couldn’t help it. She’d always been impulsively honest.
His gleaming eyes appraised her. She felt like he could see through her clothes, like some guy who finally found naughty x-ray specs that worked, only Gabriel wasn’t wowed by it, simply considered it his due, in keeping with his dominant nature. He made her think of a lion, only she wouldn’t want to share him with other females. For the first time, she felt a bit of understanding for women who were jealous and catty.
“I’m glad you applied. I’m so pleased. We’ll get the physical out of the way first, then I’ll fly you to the island.”
Hailey’s face burned. Get the physical out of the way first? Did he mean he wanted to play doctor? Surely a man as handsome and successful as Gabriel didn’t need silly, smarmy ploys to get women out of their clothes? Unless he was mental. Or had a medical fetish. There had been cases of men who impersonated doctors and got away with taking all kinds of liberties. And cases of real doctors and gynecologists who had viol
ated women in various ways, everything from videotaping their bodies to impregnating them. She imagined it in salacious detail, the doctor with his hard cock between her legs, “You’ll feel some stretching from my instrument and then I’ll fill you with my medicine. Be a good girl and hold still now, dear.” She held still and touched herself. Yes, doctor.
She shook herself out of her daydream and followed the broad-shouldered hunk up the steps into the plane. Oh, no. He meant for her to have the physical on the plane? But she was wet! The doctor would know she was aroused. Oh, damn. It was a job requirement. She couldn’t refuse, no matter how embarrassing it was.
In her distraction, she almost crashed into Gabriel’s strong back. He reached back and steadied her, uncanny how he got hold of her just right without turning around to look.
He drew her forward into the plane’s wide aisle, presenting her to an imposing silver-haired man with a powerful physique.
“Justice, this is Hailey, our first candidate for the new position. Hailey, this is Justice, my friend and our exclusive physician for the club.”
Her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t speak.
The Physical
Hailey stared at the doctor. The Billionaires Club physician looked fatherly. In the sexiest sense possible. A silver fox. Buff as hell. His muscles bulged in his white dress shirt. He wore a stethoscope around his neck like a soap opera heart throb. Big hands with long fingers and perfect nails. No wedding ring.
How had I gone from being indifferent to men to being swept away by these two? Well, these were among the most stunning men I’d ever laid eyes on. Alphonso and the guys at the club didn’t seem to be from the same species. What a freaking upgrade. Her face got impossibly hotter and her hands got so sweaty she wiped them on her skirt.
“Pleased to meet you.” Her voice came out a squeak.
The men glanced at each other in silent communication. She hoped she wasn’t making a horrible first impression.
“Relax. I don’t bite. Come this way and we’ll get the physical over with. It doesn’t take long. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
That’s when Hailey became afraid. No one ever said anything like that in a horror movie unless there was a good freaking reason to be scared out of your mind. What were her odds of escaping, if she ran for the door right then? But the two men were too close to her. Gabriel turned, as though reading her mind, and sealed the hatch.
Swallowing, she followed the doctor. Justice. Even his name was ominous. What did it say about her that she was attracted to a man old enough to be her grandfather? She flashed on the doctor exam fantasy and blushed again. But it wasn’t normal to require an employee physical on a plane. Come on! Something was wrong. But it was really too late. She couldn’t even find words to object.
The doctor opened a partition and motioned her to go inside.
“Put on the gown with the opening in the front. Position your feet in the stirrups and drape your lap with the paper cloth. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He smiled, and she felt more at ease. The man had a great, sunny smile.
She stared at the exam table. Yes, stirrups. A gyno table. What kind of job required a gyno exam? This couldn’t be legal. It was insane. She should object right now, or who knew what they’d think they could get away with. She thought of Alphonso’s hands on her and the drunks at the club. If it came down to going back to that or making nice with these two, it wasn’t much of a choice.
She took off her clothes, laying her cute suit neatly on a shelf. Maybe Gabriel did have a fetish. She wondered if there was a camera. Who had a plane equipped with a gyno exam room. I mean, how often did that come up? Oh, maybe a passenger will need a pap smear on the way to the island? Seriously? It was whacked. Hell, Gabriel owned a club for billionaires, if they wanted to do gyno exams on their private plane, who was going to give them a problem? Laws were for ordinary people.
Hailey bent over, her ass forming a sweet rounded valentine heart as she unsnapped the wide ankle straps on her shoes. She stepped out of them. Barefoot on cushioned, soft carpet, she put the gown on with the split in the front. It was clear what the doctor planned to examine. Dirty old man. Sexy, dirty old man. She slid her bare feet into the cool metal stirrups and shivered. She pulled the paper drape over her lap. So silly, he was going to look at everything anyway, but she played the modesty charade.
In the exam position with her shapely legs wide open, she remembered she’d soaked her thong. Panicked, she looked around the room for a sink. Nothing. She probably had tissue in her bag. She could at least try to dry off. But then she might get cling-ons and look like she had toilet paper on her V. She hesitated, levered up on her elbows, frozen in indecision.
A tap on the partition. She gave up and laid down. “Come in.”
The doctor came in. His handsome face wore a professional expression. He slipped the stethoscope tips in his ears and listened to her heart. The instrument was cold between her breasts. Her nipples perked up. They stood out like intact cone volcanoes under the thin gown. Belatedly it struck her she should have sat on the end of the table, instead of getting on her back and spreading her legs right off. Usually the doctor took vitals while she was sitting up. She couldn’t think straight. She blushed furiously, praying he wouldn’t notice her red face or the lusty scent of her pussy.
He took her blood pressure and her temperature, his touch and timing deft and calming. She forced herself to breathe normally and to try to ignore the dread and excitement that squeezed her heart.
He slipped on gloves. Hailey remembered wanting Gabriel to take his driving gloves off and touch her before she even knew his name. There was something about bare flesh, skin on skin. A trace of silver hair had shown on the backs of the doctor’s virile fingers before he hid them from sight. She felt so sensitized to everything about him. His eyes were the color of the ocean on a foggy day.
He might be married and not wear a ring. Not that being married stopped men from poaching. Most of the men at the club trying to pick her up for sex were married.
Justice cleared his throat. “This won’t take long. Candidates must be healthy to commence work at the club. Following this part of the exam I’ll take your blood. This first part is a straight forward breast exam and pelvic exam.”
He palpitated her breasts expertly. Her nipples hardened to the point of pain, her breath kept catching and he went on as though nothing were amiss, ending by pinching each nipple lightly as doctors tended to do.
“This will feel a bit cool.” A squish sound and he lubed up a small speculum. He inserted the tip, pushed it into her pussy full-depth and opened her.
Hailey didn’t remember ever liking that before, but she liked Justice doing it. He seemed to look for a long time.
“Perfect. Everything looks healthy, Hailey.” That strange sensation of the swab on her cervix, then he collapsed the speculum and slipped it out. His lubed finger slid into her and she gasped. “It’s cool, I know. You’re tight, so I’m using a lot of lube.” He pressed down on her flat tummy and pushed up with his finger and she felt a deep sensation, a juicy arousal she’d never known before. “It’s okay. That’s your G-spot. Some women gush fluid when they orgasm. This is the gland responsible. Yours seems quite sensitive. That’s good.”
That was more of an education that she’d ever had from a gynecologist. She wasn’t sure if she should say anything, so she didn’t. She did gush sometimes, but she’d never admitted it to anyone. Usually she held it in, afraid Rob would think she was peeing. It amazed her to realize some men knew it was natural, it was a freeing revelation.
His finger withdrew slowly. As he was about to withdraw it fully, he pushed back in, deeper, and circled it around her cervix. He pushed right on her cervix.
“Is that tender?”
“Yes.”
He explored, pushing and stopping, pushing and stopping, rhythmically massaging her cervix.
“Is that better?”
“Yes.”
“I can give you a treatment that will help much more.” His voice sounded low, conspiratorial.
“I’m not sure I —.”
“Let me take care of you, Hailey. That’s what I’m here for. It will relax you for the rest of the interview and prepare you for your duties at the club.”
She couldn’t argue with that, having no idea what the rest of the interview would consist of and what the duties entailed.
She looked up into his piercing gray-blue eyes. She trusted him. She didn’t think she should really enjoy what he was doing as much as she did, but a job was on the line. A job that could change her life.
“Yes, Doctor,” she whispered.
He changed his gloves and took a syringe from a tray.
“This will only hurt for a second.” He pushed a needle into her arm so deftly she had no time to react. He withdrew a vial of blood. Beautiful,, ruby red, her vital fluid. He was like a legal vampire.
He slipped the gloves off and turned down the examination light. His zipper seemed loud in the still cubicle.
Hailey felt the engines starting, felt the private jet taxi down the runway.
The doctor pressed his cock head against her well-lubed, super-tight opening. The plane took off. He pushed into her, opening her hole much wider than the speculum had done. Wider than anything had done, ever. His cock was immense. Hailey yelled as he muscled his huge erection balls-deep into her petite V.
“Surrender, baby. Your doctor’s got you. I’m going to give you a deep, hard treatment and make sure you come real good. When I’m done with you, you won’t be nervous at all.” His smile showed his beautiful, straight white teeth. “It’s a secret, but this is how the best doctors have treated hysteria for centuries. Sanitariums and special doctor’s offices have often been equipped with exam tables with a full array of straps to keep the patient immobile during treatment. Many women need a good, hard fuck to feel their best.”