Submission: Servicing the Billionaire Part 4 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (2 page)

“Mr. White will be coming by to pick you up
at eight,” the driver said as he bid her good-bye.

Mary thanked him and entered her apartment,
her many shopping bags bouncing as she struggled through the
door.

What should I wear?
she thought
agonizingly as she perused the contents of her shopping bags. There
was so much to choose from.

In the end she chose a fitted dress made out
of dark blue patent leather. It ended just under her buttocks, but
the dress managed to look somewhat classy. It was styled in such a
way that it looked futuristic. She wore the spiked choker around
her neck and put her hair in a tight bun. Her heels were the only
part of her outfit that was scandalous—she had chosen a pair of
black 4-inch pumps.

Eight o’clock came too quickly, and Mary was
applying the finishing touches of her makeup when she heard the
doorbell ring.
Oh my God, he’s here.
She spritzed some
perfume in the air and walked through the mist on her way out of
the bathroom.

Her heels clacking on the hardwood floors,
she hurried to the door and opened it.

Mr. White was smartly dressed, as usual. He
looked exceptionally pale in his dark grey suit and blue tie, but
it suited him. His bright eyes widened as he took in her
appearance.

“Mary,” he began hoarsely. He realized that
his mouth was slightly open and he shut it. “You look
ravishing.”

Mary beamed at him at took his proffered
arm. “Where are we going, Sir?” she asked.

“To a nice bar,” he replied, looking at her
as though he regretted this decision. He led her to his silver Audi
R8 and opened her door.

She could feel his eyes raking over her body
as she slid inside.

Then he started the car and they sped into
the night. Mr. White, it turned out, was a fast driver. He laid his
hand in her lap and Mary squirmed as his hand slipped to her thigh
and began to knead her flesh. He inched his hand higher and higher
up her dress, until the tip of his finger grazed across her lace
thong. Mary heard his intake of sharp breath before he pulled his
hand out.

Breathing rather hard, she closed her legs
and watched Mr. White, who now seemed very agitated.
Did I do
something?

Again, Mr. White seemed to hear her unspoken
thoughts. “I haven’t eaten all day,” he growled as they stopped in
front of the bar.

Somehow, she knew that he wasn’t talking
about food.

The entered Stanford’s, which seemed to be a
high-class bar, and were promptly whisked away to a private table.
A waiter came to ask for their drinks.

“Vodka tonic,” Mr. White grunted.

“Do you have Chianti? I’ll have a glass of
that.”

He almost drained his glass when they
received their drinks and grabbed the waiter’s wrist, asking for
another.

Nervous, Mary took an unnecessary large gulp
of wine and felt warmth spread to her groin and legs. Mr. White was
drumming his fingers on the table—he looked edgy. For the first
time, she noticed dark circles under his eyes.

“So,” she began in a timid voice. “Mr.
White, why is it that you need to drink blood?”

He looked at her with those haunted eyes.
“Because I am a monster.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Drinking blood is the only way I feel
normal. It’s an addiction—a necessity.”

Mary found herself unable to meet his
intense gaze. “Were you born this way?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He paused. “I have
lived for a long time, Mary. I don’t remember.”

His hands were shaking and he clenched his
fists to stop them.

She seized his hand. “Let’s go to the
bathroom.”

“What?”

“You need to feed.” She stood from the
chair.

Mr. White’s face was twisted with anger.
“Sit down,” he hissed.

“
No
,” she said, knowing that it would
incense him.

“What did you say?”

One look at him told her that it had worked.
The tips of his fangs just protruded from his lips as he stood up
and grabbed her wrist so tightly that Mary flinched with pain. He
dragged her to the back of the bar, which had an intersex single
toilet. Not willing to let go, he yanked her inside.

Mary had barely enough time to react before
she was slammed against the wall. She caught a brief glimpse of his
fangs and shrieked as his mouth closed over her neck. Mr. White
covered her mouth with his other hand as his fangs sunk into her
flesh.

She moaned against the palm of his hand as
blood spilled out of her neck. Mr. White’s tongue was working to
lap it all up, sucking on her like she was a straw and her blood
was a milkshake. She pressed herself into him, savoring the feeling
of his tongue on her throat. She wanted to be taken, dominated, and
used.

The hand slipped from her lips and trailed
down her neck to her ample bosom. He yanked the dress down, almost
tearing it. Mary slipped out of the straps as he pulled down, the
dress so tight it was acting like a bustier.

“Mister…White,” she groaned as his hand
began to massage her breasts.

Then he attacked her tits, abandoning her
neck to bury his face in her tits. Mary gave a small gasp of pain
as she felt a tiny sting on her nipple. Then he was sucking so
hard, pumping her breast to release more blood as Mary’s thighs
were greased with arousal. His other hand was gliding down her
body, slipping up her wet thighs.

“Oh!” Her pussy clenched as he drew harder
on her nipple, his finger slipping into her slit as her arms
wrapped around his head, crushing him against her breasts.

Soft moans echoed in the small bathroom as
Mr. White pumped his two fingers inside her pussy, which squelched
noisily as she became more aroused. He inserted a third finger and
curled his fingers, pleasure smothering her like smoke as the
sucking, slapping wet noises filled her ears. He removed his
fingers and Mary mewed in protest. He smeared her juices all over
her lips and pumped her fingers inside her mouth. She sucked them
dutifully, savoring the taste of herself on his fingers. His
fingers slid out of her mouth.

Still sucking on her breast, he reached down
and hiked up the dress as far as he could.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Fuck me, master.” For
Mary could feel his steel bar of a cock against her thigh, digging
into her flesh.

“Go to the sink,” he growled, finally
lifting his head from her chest.

Panting, she did as she was told. She saw
herself in the mirror and jumped. Her bun was askew; blood was
smeared all over her neck down to her breast. Her nipple was
puckered and had pinpricks of blood surrounding the nub.

“Hold the sink and bend over.”

Grinning, she grasped the ends of the
porcelain sink and exposed her glowing pussy to her lover. She
looked up into the mirror and saw him undressing, blood all over
his cheeks and mouth, looking wild and taking off his belt with a
determined air. He looped the belt in his hand and Mary tensed,
finally realizing what he intended to do.

“No—” her protest was punctuated with a
scream as he ripped the belt across her ass.

“Don’t make a sound, or you will wish you’ve
never been born.”

But Mary couldn’t help it—she groaned loudly
as the harsh leather struck her sensitive flesh. Her skin burned
with pain and shame.

Furious with her disobedience, he grabbed
her underwear from the floor and brought it to her face.

“
Open your mouth
.”

Tears streaming down her face, she shook her
head.

He gave her a little slap on the face.
“You’ve been a horrible slave to your master, and it’s only the
first night. You will open your mouth
right now
.”

The deadly whisper frightened her much more
than the belt. She opened her trembling lips and groaned when he
stuffed her own underwear inside her mouth. She could taste the
cloth, which was damp with her pussy juice, but somehow it didn’t
excite her. She just felt humiliated.

Then she looked in the mirror and saw Mr.
White’s arm swing backwards—Mary felt a thrill of fear—SLAP! She
moaned into her underwear as it sliced her flesh. Her thighs
trembled as she awaited the next blow, which reverberated up her
ass, the heat stirring her genitals. She began to rock her hips,
imagining that Mr. White’s cock was beating her, causing her all
this pain.

She heard his mirthless laugh. “You’re such
a little slut, aren’t you?” The belt cracked against her ass, the
tip of the belt landing near her clit. She screamed so loudly that
Mr. White grabbed her throat in retaliation and squeezed slightly.
“Fuck, Mary, I don’t know how you set me off so easily.”

She clenched her buttocks as he gave her a
final spanking, her thighs trembling from the blow. The belt was
dropped to the floor—Mary heard it clanging on the tiles as tears
ran down her cheeks. She widened her hips in anticipation. Fear
seared her veins as he suddenly clasped her hips and—

A deep moan of satisfaction left her throat
as his cock speared her pussy. She could barely keep herself from
slamming into the sink as he rammed her with the force of a semi.
Flesh-pounding smacks filled the room, along with her stifled
moans. Mary felt her head jerk backwards as he gripped her collar,
forcing her to arch her back.

Mr. White grunted softly as his cock was
suddenly allowed to penetrate her more fully. His hand slapped her
bouncing ass, right on the sore, burning mark. Mary cried out, her
lips trembling from pain and ecstasy. The underwear tumbled from
her mouth to fall on the floor.

The slow burn of her ass was accentuated by
the pleasure sparks as Mr. White fucked her harder and harder, his
hands claiming her flesh, bruising and pinching. He withdrew
something from his pocket and Mary felt a horribly delicious
sensation in her clit as he applied a clothespin around her lips,
making her hole tighter for his cock. She could feel him
everywhere, now gliding up her walls, rubbing against every
pleasure nerve. Every pump brought her closer, like spring being
compressed slowly.

“Fuck-me-harder, please, sir,” she begged,
her voice jolted by the thrusts of his hips.

He stuffed himself harder, deeper, taking
moments to rip his hand across her ass. The spankings only
increased the pleasure as the shock wave reverberated up her sweet
spot. Mary looked at him in the mirror, choking slightly on the
collar, and saw that his fangs were out—his eyes crazy and his hair
in complete disarray.

His cock grinded against her pussy as it was
stuffed to the hilt, his balls massaging her vagina. He slammed
again, and she collapsed against the sink, feeling a twitching
sensation inside her as he jerked upwards two more times. Finally,
the catch released and ecstasy was released like a tidal wave held
back by a pathetic dam. Her vagina contracted against his penis as
she slumped against the sink.

Mr. White pulled her in his lap as he fell
on the toilet, still inside her. He grabbed her blonde hair and
pulled so harshly that she felt the roots of some hairs leave her
scalp. His tongue slid up her throat, licking the blood smeared on
her neck.

“I can clean myself, Mr. White,” she
sighed.

He hissed at her as she tried to slide off.
She could feel his cum oozing down her pussy, blocked by his
cock.

When Mr. White had finally drunk his fill,
he slid out of her pussy and helped her up. He looked angry even as
he licked his lips and turned on the faucet to splash water in his
face.

Mary stood up gingerly and peered at him,
frightened that she had upset him. “Mr. White?”

He looked at her through the mirror. Mary
winced as he seized a towel from the rack and whipped it in a
violent motion. “You just wait till we get home, slave,” he spat
the last word as he toweled himself off. He left the bathroom
without a backward glance, the door swinging wide open.

The menace in his voice made her limbs numb.
Now she had done it. She quickly locked the door and studied the
state of her dress. She was a mess. Her hair hung in tatters, blood
all over her neck and chest, semen trailing down her legs…

When she had finally cleaned herself off,
Mr. White was seated at the same table, glowering at her under his
drink. Though, she noticed his cheeks were a bit rosier thanks to
her blood.

There was nothing she could have done with
the bite wounds, so Mary had staunched the flow with toilet paper
and parted her hair to hide the wounds.

Mr. White flagged the waiter for the check.
Clearly, he was eager to leave.

The waiter stooped down to grab the check,
but gave her a sidelong look. “Ma’am,” the waiter said, his voice
laden with concern. “You’re bleeding.”

With a terrified glance at her boss, whose
eyes narrowed at her, she wiped the blood with her hands. “I’m
fine, thank you.”

They left together in silence, Mr. White
apparently too furious to speak.

“Mr. White—”

He held up a hand, indicating silence. “You
must never tempt me in public, Mary. Anything could have
happened—they could have seen me.”

* * *

The car lurched to a stop in Mr. White’s
underground garage as Mary’s stomach did back flips. During the
ride to his apartment, he only spoke to give her dark hints about
what awaited her in his house.

He got out of the car and opened her door.
His hand slipped inside his jacket and pulled out something long
and black. Mary felt his fingers at her neck and stiffened. He
seemed to be adjusting the collar, but when his hands dropped, the
black leather was trailing from her neck. He held a loop of it in
his hand and gave it a small tug.

Mary felt her collar move.
Did he just
leash me?

“Come,” he said, grinning as he pulled the
leash.

Mary followed, feeling like an abashed dog
as she walked behind him, her head hung low. She looked up when
they reached the elevator and walked inside his apartment.