Erotic Billionaire 3(3)

“I’ve only done one of these particular interviews before, and it’s such a cloak and dagger thing that I’m still a little careful how I approach it.” She presented a short written contract to Celine. Celine, a trained speed reader, read the contract through and gazed into Sylvia’s eyes. What she had read bothered her a little, but she wanted to know how much something like this was worth. “How much?” she asked directly.

Sylvia matter of factly wrote a figure at the bottom of the contract where a salary was specified, a figure in the mid six figures. Celine never hesitated, she simply signed and dated the contract, and handed the contract back to Sylvia with a smile. Sylvia smiled back and hugged her. “Welcome to the family,” she said. She handed Celine a box full of business cards. “You’re to go in at precisely nine a.m.,” she said, “you understand you are to do whatever he says without question, immediately, or you are subject to disciplinary action?” Celine nodded. “As the contract specifies, your contract is year to year, and either of you can terminate the contract at will. Good luck Celine.” Sylvia poured more coffee for both of them and they sat comfortably, making small talk. Celine felt her excitement building. The business cards Sylvia had handed her were for P. Winston Dunn.

At precisely nine a.m. Celine entered Dunn’s office and her life changed forever. She stepped before his desk and looked him directly in the eyes and started to tell him her name. He never looked up from the document he was speed reading and held a finger up for her to be silent…her mouth snapped shut. He put the paper down and picked up another without looking up. “I know who you are,” he said, “never interrupt me when I’m reading.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

Immediately he raised his clear blue eyes to her. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself,” he said. “If you aren’t willing to abide by the terms of the contract, you can leave now and go back to the reception desk.” Celine looked down at the floor, nodding. “Bend over my desk.” Celine complied immediately, humiliated. P. Winston Dunn stood up, shot the cuffs of his shirt, and walked around until he was standing beside her. He put his hand on her firm ass, and then reached for the hem of her dress. When he lifted it, he exposed a creamy white pair of tiny bikini panties. He smacked her ass, hard, leaving a bright red handprint on her. He smacked her again, hard. Helplessly, Celine felt her pussy become soaked. Humiliated even more, she felt her thighs part and her ass thrust up…she was horrified, but more than anything else she wanted him to spank her again. She had to bite her lip to keep from begging him to do it again. He rolled her over and his hand brushed across the front of her panties, causing her to cum.

She wanted more, more of anything, just as long as she could feel his hands on her. Dunn sat down and picked up his document again. Without looking up, he ordered her to take off her clothes. His hand flicked out to a small box mounted on his desk, and the locks on both doors to his office slid home. Instantly Celine reached for the zipper on the back of her dress and dropped it to the floor, along with her panties and bra. She kicked off her expensive sandals and stood, dainty feet together, completely nude in front of his desk. Her shame was exceeded only by the thrill of being so thoroughly dominated. Her pussy was sopping wet, her clit was swollen and protruding from between her puffy labia. Her nipples were absolutely rigid.

Dunn’s hand reached for the box again and pushed another button. A wall of books lined the back of the huge office, and a doorway opened when he pushed the button. “Go in and find the bathroom. The necessary implements you will need are in the left hand medicine cabinet. Shave your pussy and keep it that way, I don’t like pubic hair. If you last the first day we will take you down and have it waxed.” He stopped speaking and continued reading. Celine raced for the door in the bookcase.

Her heart was beating wildly as she opened the door of the left hand medicine cabinet and took out some shears, a lady’s razor, and some perfumed shaving cream. She sat on the edge of the huge tub and carefully trimmed and then shaved her pubic hair. Celine tried to tell herself that for a half million dollars for a year she could be any kind of working whore P. Winston Dunn wanted her to be. Looking at the truth in her heart was kind of like staring at an angry rattlesnake that was coiled, ready to strike, and within easy range…she loved the way this incredibly gorgeous man excited her, and she wanted more. She hurriedly cleaned up the mess and ran a soft hand over the patch where her pubic hair used to be and shivered. Celine smiled and ran back to the office to stand in front of Dunn’s desk. “On your knees,” he commanded without looking up. Celine knelt on the floor. Dunn walked around the desk, holding a necklace made of rare black coral in his hands. “You have signed a contract, but until you accept this, it is not final. I ask you one more time, do you, of your own free will, accept this contract?”