Love's Leash (Issy's Tale): (A Billionaire, BDSM, BBW naughty romance) (Curvy Maids Book 2)

by Jordan, Renee

  “Quality Goods,” she answered. “It's like a Trader's Joes. It's a great place to work. I'm probably going to be promoted to cashier manager when Tilly retires next month.”

  “That's amazing,” I smiled, shooting Zera a look. She wasn't going to win this girl over by insulting her life. “I bet you don't even have to quit your job. You could easily work part time. Maybe just helping out at the parties that these guys like to throw.”

  “I guess I could do that,” she nodded.

  “I think that would be a great idea,” Zera clapped.

  I regaled Veronica with a sanitized version of serving Mr. Chevalier yesterday, leaving out the part where he came on my body while I masturbated. Her cheeks grew flushed as I talked about cleaning naked and how freeing it was.

  “It was great to meet you,” I said as we finished up dinner.

  “Yeah,” Veronica nodded. “I hope you land your billionaire like Zera did.”

  “I'm putting out the bait he can't resist,” I laughed, giving my ass a slap in my tight jeans.

  Veronica gave us both a hug before she disappeared down the elevator.

  “Thanks, Issy,” Zera sighed. “I think you got through to her.”

  I pinched her cheek. “Maybe you should leave the human resources to me.”

  “Maybe,” she nodded, then gave me a piercing look. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Curtis called and he was wondering if you wanted to work for him on your days off.”

  My cheeks went pink. “No,” I quickly said. “Definitely not.”

  Zera nodded. “I get it. He's just trying to steal you away from Francois. He tried the same thing with me before I fully submitted to Mr. Draven.”

  And he almost had succeeded. I remembered Zera's tear-filled phone call when she thought she had lost Mr. Draven and was going to give herself to the Black man. Well, that wasn't going to happen to me.

  * * *

  I didn't see much of Mr. Chevalier on Tuesday. He had left me a note and a rose informing me he was going to be out of town until late into the week. I straightened up his condo in only two hours and then lounged around watching TV for the rest of my shift.

  Every day was like that, only the work grew easier and easier. On Thursday, after clearing some food about to spoil from his fridge, I want shopping and bumped into Veronica manning the checkout line at Quality Goods.

  We chatted for about fifteen minutes as she worked the line. She was so very close to joining up, she just needed another nudge and I bet she would be eager to make some real money.

  On Friday, I finally saw Mr. Francois.

  “Hello, sir!” I gasped when I walked in and saw him dressed in a tailored suit, looking so sharp and handsome.

  He grinned at me. “Ma belle rose, the place looks so pristine.” He strode over to me, my heart quickening in my chest. “You are such an amazing creature.” Then his hand stroked my cheek, fire burned through me.

  “Thank you, Mr. Chevalier,” I breathed. “Do you want me to...disrobe?”

  “I am afraid not,” he sighed. “As much as I love to see you blossom, I have many meetings today. But tomorrow.” His eyes burned with promise. “Tomorrow you shall prance before me and I will drink in every drop of your nectar.”

  My pussy clenched. I lifted my chin, hoping he would kiss me, trembling with desire. I wanted to reach out and touch his suit and feel his strength beneath the fabric. Instead he brushed past me and walked out the door.

  I plopped onto the couch, jamming my hands into my frilly panties, and worked my fingers hard. I was gasping and climaxing in no time, calling out his name, and satiating that wonderful itch he had left burning inside me.

  Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

  The next morning, I came out of my bedroom and gasped in shock. Zera was naked and tied up in the living room, her hands bound over her head, the rope attached to a hook in the ceiling. More ropes crisscrossed her plump body, biting into her flesh.

  “Hi,” she smiled at me, her cheeks burning. “I was naughty this morning.”

  “I can see that,” I said, looking away.

  “Are you off to Mr. Chevalier's?”

  “Yep.” I couldn't help grinning. “I think he's going to want me to clean naked again.”

  “How exciting,” Zera cooed.

  “Good morning, Miss Isabella.”

  I turned and jumped again. Mr. Draven strode out naked. He was fit for a man of his age. Hell, he was fit for a man half his age. He carried a flogger made of links of chains in one hand and in the other he held clothesline pins.

  “Hi, Mr. Draven,” I smiled, drinking in the sight of him.

  “Are you staying to watch Alexandra's punishment?”

  My eyes widened. “Um, no. I need to get to work.”

  “Pity. Alexandra always screams loudest when she's embarrassed.” A grin split his lips. “And you are embarrassing her so much right now.”

  “That's okay. You two have fun.”

  “We will, Miss Isabella.”

  “Enjoy your billionaire,” Zera called out as I hastily walked to the elevator.

  I pressed my thighs together on the entire elevator ride down. My body remembered the ropes Mr. Curtis had used on me when his strong, ebony hands had mastered my body. The welts he had left on my plump rear had healed all ready and I found myself smiling as I remembered the way his flogger had burned when he had whipped me.

  “Good day, Issy,” Victor, the building's door man, said as I walked out. He spoke with a thick accent that always made him sound so alive. “Going to your billionaire again?”

  “I am,” I smiled at him. “Can you get me a cab.”

  “Sure.” He stepped out to the street, waiving his hand and getting the attention of a yellow cab passing. He opened the door, smiling at me.

  “Thanks, Victor.” I slipped him a ten. “I hope your day goes well.”

  “It always does,” he nodded. “Every day is gift. So seize what joy you can from it.”

  “I plan on it.” I climbed into the cab and gave the driver instructions. I planned on having as much joy as I could with Mr. Chevalier today.

  Seattle was lovely today. The weather had been nasty earlier in the week, but the sun was back out and the city bustled. I rolled the window down and enjoyed the fresh air and the smells of roasting coffee as we passed one of the many coffee shops. There seemed to be one on every block. Sometimes more than one. And they all had people bustling in and out of them.

  The cab reached Mr. Chevalier's building; I paid him and climbed out. I was getting used to the cold, austere aesthetic of his building and I barely even noticed all the looks I garnered as I walked through the lobby in my slutty maid's outfit. Many of the skinny women had disgusted looks on their face.

  I didn't care. I had a billionaire to play with. Those skinny bitches could never land a guy as hunky as my Frenchman. The elevator rose up and my excitement grew. I was glad I was going to be stripping naked—my panties felt soaked through all ready.

  “What was he going to do to with those clothesline pins?” I wondered; my nipples tingled. I bet that must hurt. Zera was definitely a kinkier girl than I had ever thought. I bet everyone's like that, all hiding their dark fantasies from the world and trying to pretend they're normal.

  But if we all had those fantasies than maybe what Zera was doing was completely normal.

  The elevator reached the fifteenth floor and my stomach buzzed in anticipation. I strode forward, my heals clicking, my ass swaying beneath the skimpy skirt, and reached my billionaire's door. I unlocked it and slipped in.

  I didn't see him.

  I started stripping right away, dropping my clothes onto a careless pile on the floor. Wearing only my garter, heels, and stockings, I swayed into his condo, walking to the window to enjoy the view, letting all of Seattle see how beautiful and naked I was.

  “That is an even better view,” he purred from behind me. “Vous ne devriez jamais cacher votre beauté derrière des vêtements. Vous de
vez afficher votre corps de salope pour le plaisir de tous.”

  I shivered and turned to face my hunky billionaire.

  Chapter Eight

  My hunky, French billionaire was dressed in his dark-blue robe, his eyes burning as he strode to me. Something was clutched in his hand. It looked like a short cone of—

  My eyes widened. It was a butt plug just like the one Mr. Curtis had used on me last week. My butt-cheeks clenched and a tingle went through me. He stopped before me, a grin on his face as he held the plug out. “Should I be surprised you know what this is?” he asked.

  I tensed. Did he know about me and Mr. Curtis? Was he mad and jealous? Was everything about to fall apart? Why had I been so weak last weak? A tremble ran through me as I stared into his hungry eyes.

  “I...I know what it is, sir?” My voice was tight with fear. I didn't want this to end all ready. Last weak had been a mistake.

  “I was speaking with Ajax and he suggested you might like this.” He handed it to me. “He lent me one of his.”

  This was the very butt plug Mr. Curtis had used on me. But Francois didn't seem to know and some of nerves fled. “I think I would like this.”

  Francois laughed, “Vous feriez. Cette salope sale.”

  I shivered, loving when he spoke French to me.

  “Do you have lube?”

  “On the counter.”

  I walked to the kitchen, making sure my ass swayed for his amusement. A tube of lube sat on the counter. I picked it up, squirting it on my finger. Smiling over my shoulders, I reached behind myself and wormed my finger into my tight asshole, loving the feel as I worked it in.

  “Une telle rose méchante,” he groaned, his cock tenting the front of his robe. He was clearly naked underneath it.

  That made me work my finger faster, slipping in a second one, making sure I lubed my ass well. I panted and purred, pleasure trembling through me. I could cum just working my fingers in and out of my tight hole, savoring his eyes on my ample flesh.

  He strode to me and ripped my fingers from my ass. “Not yet, ma bell rose. You need to clean my condo before you can have your pleasure.”

  “Yes, Mr. Chevalier,” I panted.

  He drew my fingers to his nose, breathing in and smiling. “Le parfum d'un sale pute.”

  God, French was the sexiest language. “Would you like to do the honors?” I held the butt plug to him.

  He shook his head. “On your knees.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I sank to the floor, kneeling on my hands and knees. I reached behind me, sliding the butt plug around, trying to find my backdoor. It was awkward. I brushed my butthole, a tingle shooting through me. Then I pressed forward.

  I moaned as it spread my sphincter more and more open, burning pleasure flooding through me. Then the plug was all the way in me, only the handle and the knob outside my bowels. I shifted, the wedge rubbing around inside me, stretching me wide. I was stuff full, delighting in the feeling as I moved around.

  “That's it. Clean now,” he panted.

  I cleaned. My pussy wept juices, my excitement trickling down my chubby thighs as I worked. My entire body felt alive as the butt plug kept my passions stirred. I was on the edge, gasping and sighing every time I shifted.

  The need to stick my fingers between my thighs and pleasure myself was overwhelming. My hand would drift down as I scrubbed a counter or wiped down a cabinet, itching to plunge between my fat labia and jill myself.

  “Naughty rose,” he would laugh, smacking my ass whenever I would. “Not yet.”

  “Sorry, sir,” I would pant, my cheeks flushed.

  The need was unbearable. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to deny my pleasure and keep cleaning. I washed the dishes, wiped the counters, mopped the floor, dusted the shelves, vacuumed the couch, made up his bed, and wiped down his shower.

  Every time I looked at him, I pled with my eyes, begging him to let me cum. To whip out this thick cock and fuck me until we were both screaming for joy.

  I was scrubbing the bathroom floor, shaking my rear at him when I heard a groan. I glanced over my shoulder and saw his robe piled on the ground about his feet, his cock thrusting hard and angry before him, his hands stroking it.

  “Fuck yourself with the brush handle,” he groaned, pointing at the toilet brush I was about to use. “Let me see you cum!”

  “Yes, sir!' I groaned, grasping the bristled end of the clean brush, rolling on to my back, the butt plug squeezed in my bowels. I spread my legs open, running the plastic handle up and down my wet slit. “This is what you want, sir?”

  “Yes!” he groaned, stroking his cock. “Violer vous, putain! Vous sale!”

  I shoved the handle in, my pussy squeezing down on the rectangular-shaped handle, working it in deep. My other hand pulled on my nipple rings, stretching out my tits. I stared into his deep eyes, loving the lust that burned in them, spurring me on to violate myself more.

  “Oui! Cette salope aveugle!”

  I groaned, loving the passion I inspired in his dark eyes. “Watch me!” I grunted, working the brush handle in fast. I was so close to cumming. I tugged harder on my nipples, the pain adding to the pleasure swelling inside me. “I love it! Watch me cum, sir!”

  “Do it! Sale pute!”

  My breath came in ragged gasps. I had been on the cusp all day, denying myself from the sweet release. My body convulsed. Rapture burned through me. My pussy clenched down on the rough handle, pain flaring. Such wonderful pain, mixing with the pleasure. My spasming asshole tried to force the butt plug out.

  “Yes!” I groaned. I loved this. I loved him watching me. I loved him. “Mr. Chevalier, I—”

  He suddenly straddled my body, his fist flying up and down on his cock right before my face. Then he let go of his throbbing shaft and seized my blonde hair, pulling my face up and thrusting his dick right into my lips.

  “Boire, putain!” he grunted as his cum flooded my mouth. I swallowed the salty load, moaning at the taste. I was finally pleasuring him directly. “Boire mon ordures! Sale salope!”

  I gasped when his cock popped out of my lips. He fell back, leaning against the wall, his muscular chest heaving. I pulled out the plastic handle, my pussy momentarily satiated. But I needed more than plastic. I needed a real cock.

  “Fuck me, sir!”

  “I think you are done for the day, ma belle rose,” he panted.

  Disappointment flooded me. I sat up, reaching out to touch his arm, my breasts heaving. “Don't you want to get more of a taste of me?” I purred. “Don't you want to enjoy every part of me?”

  “You're eager for my cock,” he grinned.

  “I am. I bet I can wake him up and we can enjoy ourselves.”

  “You are done for the day,” he repeated.

  I withdrew my hand. “Don't you want to make love to me?”

  He reached out, cupping my face. “When you have driven me to such a feverish point, I will take you fully. The anticipation will grow in both of us. Every day it will swell. When we finally fuck, the pleasure will be so intense.”

  I shivered at his words.

  “You will scream my name. You will writhe in bliss.” His fingers brushed my lips. “You will always remember that day. So be patient, ma bell rose.”

  “Yes, Mr. Chevalier,” I breathed.

  “Good.” He stood up. “On your way home, if you could stop by Ajax's residence and return the butt plug.” He paused. “And don't wash your filth off. He will enjoy it, I think.”

  I froze. I couldn't go there. Not with my pussy aching for a real cock. But I couldn't disobey Francois. What was I going to do if Mr. Curtis wanted to eat me for dinner again?

  I would just have to be strong and not cheat on my hunky Frenchman.

  Chapter Nine

  I trembled as the cab pulled up at Mr. Curtis's house. My pussy was still on fire, still aching for a cock. How was I going to resist the hunky man's demands? I knew he would want to possess me again. I bet he had set up this
entire situation just to get me back over at his house.

  My pussy throbbed at the thought of being disciplined by him again.

  I climbed out of the cab, clutching my purse. “Can you wait a few minutes?” I asked the cabbie, slipping him the money.

  “Yeah, sure,” he grinned.

  I nodded, and strode up the driveway past those tall hedges. I lost sight of the cab as I walked up his front door. No one could see me from the street or the neighboring houses. No one could know if I decided to be naughty and indulge with the Black billionaire.

  But I would know.

  I pulled the butt plug out of my purse, a sour tang filling my nose. Maybe I should just leave it on the porch. He never has to know I was even here. A tremble passed through my body. It seemed like a great idea. Just leave it on the porch and retreat back to the cab. No temptation. No strong, hunky Black man I had to resist. No traitorous desires I had to fight.

  Just leave it and go.

  My finger pressed the doorbell.

  Why did I do that?

  Did I really want to cheat on Mr. Chevalier? Was I that fickle?

  The door opened. He stood there, dressed casually, a tight T-shirt stretched across his powerful chest. “Why, if it isn't Issy,” he grinned, his teeth white against his ebony lips. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “No it's not,” I said, thrusting the butt plug to him. “You arranged this whole thing. Here's your butt plug back.”

  “Such anger. Is that any way to treat your Master?”

  “You're not my master,” I huffed. “I serve Francois. And that's the only reason I'm here.”

  “Is it,” he grinned, staring down at me. Why did he have to be so handsome and strong? Why was I such a weak woman? “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  He lifted the butt plug to his nose, sniffing it. “You didn't clean it.”

  “You can clean it. I bet you'll get off on it,” I scathed.

  “Such impertinence. I think you want to feel my bare hand smacking that delightful ass tonight.”

  “That's not happening. You have your butt plug back. Have a nice night.”