The Venture Capitalist (18 page)

“Got it,” she says.

“I have a deck of punishment cards, which we will use when you mess up or step out of line. When you pull the card, you are to hand it to me to read to you.”

“Why can’t I just read it?”

“Who holds the top position here?”

“You do.” She shakes her head with incredulity.

“That little gesture right there would get you a trip to the punishment deck if we were in a scene.”

That reply wipes the smile off her face. She will learn soon, if she doesn’t already know, that I am serious about what transpires in here.

“Sorry,” she says with a sheepish grin.

“Every piece of equipment in here is at my disposal once you enter this room, but your behavior helps me decide if I’m going to use them for pleasure or for pain.”

She looks somber when I say that, so I remind her who holds the fulcrum of power.

“You are actually the one in control, Keisha. Don’t let all these things psych you out. Keep your head, relax into that space where you always know intuitively that I’m doing what I do because of the rules of the game and because it gets me where I need to be. It’s never because I have any malice toward you. If you go there with me every time, I can promise you, you will be rewarded with pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”

Ms. Beale hasn’t seen anything yet. I wonder if she has any idea of the pleasure she is about to experience in the lifestyle. I pause, giving her a chance to respond, but she chooses not to.

“Did you check off your hard limits?” I walk back over to the table, pick up the contract she just signed and flip to the second page. Frowning, I turn back to face her. “So, nothing’s off the table? I recall there were things you weren’t comfortable with in another conversation we had.”

She springs up off the bench like a jack-in-the-box. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I was so nervous I might’ve skipped that part.”

I walk back over and hand her the document. “This time read every word, Keisha.”

She scanned it too quickly earlier to indicate that she was actually reading. This time, she reads thoroughly and stops dutifully to let me know what her soft and hard limits are.

“I don’t think I can swallow sperm.” Her face contorts with distaste and she shudders.

“It’s not something I require, yet many men swear it’s the biggest turn on. There are other things that are bigger turn-ons for me. You may take that off the list.”

She lines through it on the document and moves on, her forefinger tracking the items on the list as she reads. She stops abruptly. “I don’t think I’d like to do anal sex,” she says.

I’m disappointed, but I don’t show her just how much when I inquire about it. “Is there a reason why?”

The document flutters briefly and I can tell her hands are shaking. “Don’t be afraid to assert yourself during the negotiation process, Keisha. You have as much say in any of this as I do.”

“Thank you. Anal sex scares the crap out of me. Pun intended.”

“Why are you afraid of it?”

“I’m not afraid as much as I don’t want to ruin my anus for the purpose for which it was created,” she says.

“That happens when the ass isn’t properly conditioned and someone proceeds without making sure they’ve stretched and lubricated the orifice in preparation for penetration. It is very pleasurable when done properly, but I will leave the decision to remove this item up to you.”

My heart sinks a bit when she crosses it off, but I never overtly encourage a submissive to do anything that causes them pause. We mutually agree to omit a laundry list of things we both have no desire to try. I countersign the contract, then quiz her on the equipment in the room and its use.

I’m pleased by how much she remembers from the first time she was in my Grotto. We return to where we began, and I remove her robe and hang it back on the hook. I retrieve the crop I left on the bench before and snap it on my hand, testing the sting. Keisha flinches, but I chalk it up to surprise.

“We mustn’t waste this gorgeous costume you’re wearing, now. Should we, Ms. Beale?”

“No, Sir,” she says and lowers her eyes.

I walk over to her, thoroughly invading her personal space, our bodies almost touching. I place her hand on my cock. It’s not in an aroused state, but it moves in that direction once her warm hand touches me through my thin silk pajama bottoms.

“This is me before we scene.” I say, then remove her hand. “St. Andrews Cross.” Jumping slightly at my sharp command, she moves immediately to the leather-covered apparatus harnessed against the wall and awaits further instruction. Since she is facing the cross, I press a button on the panel next to it to raise it slightly off the floor, so her feet will tuck slightly underneath the base of it.

I stick my hand between her thighs, pushing one leg out and then the other. “Spread.” She spreads her legs until her feet are parallel with the bottom of the X. I kneel behind her with the purpose of strapping her ankles to the apparatus. However, before I do that, I can’t resist palming her exquisite ass with my hands, which makes me momentarily lose my train of thought.

“This is so distracting,” I say. “You have the best ass of any of my previous submissives, Keisha.”

She makes a sound that borders on derisive, but then mumbles. “Yes, Sir.”

I cuff her ankles, then her hands to the cross and stand up close against her and whisper in her ear.

“The tip of the crop I’m going to use is soft leather, Ms. Beale. As I wield it, it will sting but it won’t break your skin. Okay?”

“Okay, Sir.”

“I need you to feel what this does to me because, ultimately, what this does to me will benefit you. Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“A little mood music, shall we?”

I find the perfect song on the iPod I use exclusively in my Grotto to help Ms. Beale with her focus. “Free Your Mind,” by the group En Vogue. Ms. Beale shakes her head as if she can’t believe it when she hears the first few bars of the song.

“Do you know this group, Ms. Beale?” I shout over the music.

She shouts back, “Yes, Sir.”

I move behind her again, so we don’t have to strain our voices. “How is that possible? You were at most a toddler when this song was a hit.”

“I’m a music aficionado, Sir.” She says this matter-of-factly.

“Oh, right.”

I practice wielding the crop and it whooshes through the air as I warm up. “Okay, here goes, Ms. Beale.”

Aiming for her juicy buttocks, a loud pop erupts from the tip against her succulent flesh. Surprisingly, Keisha doesn’t cry out, and while I’m proud she isn’t behaving like this is totally foreign to her, I increase the intensity of the second pop. This time she moans protesting the sting of the crop.

“That’s right. Let me hear you scream, baby.” I goad her, because her reaction is what gets my motor running.

I alternate sides, keeping time with the music. Flicking my wrist in a way that causes the tip of the crop to grip and sting her like so many pricks of a needle on her skin. Keisha moans, gasps, and pleas for mercy as I work her over with the crop.

When her ass becomes mauve in color against the rest of her olive skin, I know it’s time to move to another area. I choose her back because it’s covered and if there were to be any bruising, I’d prefer it be in a place that she can cover easily. She’s wearing a corset, so an adjustment of pressure is necessary for the leather to bite through the spines of the fabric. Keisha hisses, groans and spits an occasional curse as I continue the onslaught until I’ve worked up a sweat.

Nearing the end of the song, I press my body close to hers. She gasps as she feels the imprint of my erection against her ass.

“This is me after we scene,” I say next to her ear.

She presses her derriere against my front which indicates to me that she is aroused. I run my hands down her sides over her hips, to her thighs and up again. I ease a hand around her body between her open legs and shove two fingers inside her.

“I love how your body reacts for me. Eventually, it will do so before I even begin a scene.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

I roll my hips against her ass in time with my fingers sliding in and out of her folds. “You want me to take you, right here on this cross, don’t you, Keisha?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But you said you didn’t want any penetration tonight.”

She answers so quickly she forgets protocol. “That was before I changed my mind.”

“Who?” I push away from her body and smack her ass with my hand.

“Sir. Sorry. Please Sir, don’t leave me like this.” She is already reduced to begging, which gets her big points from me.

I grasp the narrowest part of her thong with my hand and rip it loose. “We can’t have this little scrap of fabric getting in the way.”

I retrieve a condom from the bedside table drawer and return to my charge on the St. Andrews Cross. I engage the motor and angle it in a way that gives me easy access to her aroused sex. I tear the foil wrapper and release the condom and slide it onto my length almost in one motion. I’m eager to take her now that the cropping has done its job.

She is so wet she takes my full length without adjustment. We both groan on impact. I pull out and thrust again harder and deeper. When she gasps I ease out. I lost my head for a moment, but I lace my explanation with apology.

“You said something about soft, easy, and being able to walk after. A good Dom listens.” I trail kisses over her shoulders as I move soft and slow inside her. She gasps and hums and gasps again when I wind up to the swerve she likes so much. I continue in a steady, rhythmical pace until she squirms, pushing her ass back to meet my thrusts as much as she can despite being immobilized on the cross. This leisurely pace is a welcome relief from the other times I fucked her to make a point. She seems to have enjoyed the cropping and now she is letting me know she wants faster, but I stay on course.

I wrap my arms around her torso between her and the cross and cup her breasts, holding them as I begin to thrust a bit harder into her. However, I still hold back, because she is sore and I don’t want to put her completely out of commission for several days. As I move into her and she arches back into me, our heavy breathing increases as we each grow desperate and hungry for release. When Keisha comes, her scream catapults me into release, and I groan through my own intense climax.

I can’t move until my breath evens out, then I pull slowly out of her. When I feel like I have the energy to heft her weight, I motor the cross completely upright and unstrap her. Keisha collapses into my arms. I hoist her up, amused by her inability to stand without assistance, and help her to walk on unstable legs over to the bed.

Arranging her in a supine position on the bed, I climb in next to her still smiling at her helplessness.

“You took your first thorough cropping like a pro, Ms. Beale.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Her eyes are droopy and I know she won’t be awake long. She musters up the energy to return my smile, her eyes consuming my naked torso as if she wants more, but her energy level is not allowing it. I remain propped on an elbow facing her until she loses the battle and dozes off.

I watch her sleep for several minutes before I realize I’m acting like a suitor who is smitten with a new lover. I turn and settle on my side facing away from her. The remote that controls most every electrical item in the room, including the lights, lies on the nightstand.

Retrieving it, I plunge the room in to near darkness with the click of one button, save the lights that illuminate the baseboards for safety. I will myself not to turn back around—I tell myself it is to some of the much-needed sleep we both missed the night before.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Darryl buzzes me mid-afternoon the next day.

“Ms. Beale is on line one.”

Another surprise, yet my hesitation is brief. “Put her through.”

If she’s having third thoughts about our arrangement, I might be forced to detain her physically and lock her away in my Grotto. I roll my eyes annoyed that I could have such thoughts about a new submissive.
That is all she is to you, White.

“Ms. Beale,” I say, keeping the formal distance intact. “To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?”

“There is nothing uncertain or suspect about the pleasure you derived from my body in your Grotto last night,” she says.

“Touché. Let me rephrase. To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

“That’s more like it.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to make me work harder as your Dom than you will as my submissive?”

“Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? You said yourself that
the force is powerful with me
,” she says in a voice reminiscent of a character in a movie that my father bonded with Nathan and me over when we were children.

“Did you just quote Darth Vader?” What is it with this woman who has me dredging up movies like she does pop culture references?

“No, I paraphrased Darth Vader.”

“I stand corrected,” I say, and go back to reading the contract on my desk as she prattles on. Finally she gets to the primary reason for her call.

“So, here’s the deal. I know we’re supposed to sign the contract for KSR tonight, but I have to work until six.”

“And that would be a problem for me because—?”

“Even if I take a cab to your office after work, I’ll probably be late.”

I put the contract back down. “You know how I feel about time, Ms. Beale.”

“Which is why I’m telling you
beforehand
.”

I recall that she doesn’t have a car. “Should I make arrangements for you to have a loaner? I have several cars.”

Her sigh is audible. She has a reluctance for driving in the city—something Ms. Jameson mentioned to Darryl when he originally set up the contract signing. I pause to allow her to share this information with me. Or not.

“I never drive Downtown, especially during rush hour.” She goes with a half-truth.

“Are you admitting one of your fears to me?” If this question didn’t make her come clean, I would be sorely disappointed in her willingness to blatantly lie to me, and wondering if she’s keeping me in the dark about other more important things.

“Yes.”

My relief is tangible—only to me. “Thank you for letting me know. I was going to have Moses pick you up today, then give you access to my car service beginning tomorrow.”

“No. Thank
you
, Sir.”

Her use of the title of respect even though we are not in a scene makes me horny. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“I think I might’ve derived quite a bit of that recently.” She picks up on the sexy timbre in that statement, openly flirting with me.

My voice matches the seductive tone in hers. “Of this I’m keenly aware. Are you bound and determined to get me to participate in some form of phone sex, Ms. Beale?”

“Yes, I’m determined and knowing your proclivities, I could also be bound in
many
creative ways.”

“Where are you?”

“In the stockroom.”

I get a visual of her in a window-less room surrounded by shelves and tables of sexy lingerie. Which gives me an idea.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

I take her up on the quasi-invitation I flubbed after our first sexual encounter, and I can tell from my growing hard-on that this experience won’t be sophomoric at all.

“What are you wearing?”

“Hey, buzz Darryl and see if Jada and Keisha have checked in downstairs,” Nathan says, as he makes another lap of pacing in my office while I’m checking over the documents for Kente Studio Records one last time.

I glance absentmindedly up at him. “He’ll call me when he gets word from downstairs that they’re here.”

I’m also excited that Keisha is coming to sign the docs and spend more time with me in my Grotto tonight, but I’m not as anxious outwardly as Nathan. I look up at him again. His hair is wild given how many times he’s run his big hand through it.

“You need a haircut,” I say.

He stops mid-pace. “No I don’t. This is as much my signature now as my game-making three-pointers. If I cut this, I’ll lose my skill, just like Samson lost his strength.”

“Samson who?”

“The historical figure in the Bible.”

“You read the Bible?”

Nathan begins to pace again. “No, I just remember that from our days when we used to go to Mass. When Mom was alive.”

I stack the documents neatly, stand, and walk around to perch on the edge of my desk.

“Sit down. You’re making me nervous. Besides, isn’t Ms. Jameson a sure thing, since you guys had apparently already hooked up once way before the other night?”

Nathan stalks over to the chairs in front of my desk and takes one of them, looking up at me. “She’s like you. Serious about the lifestyle, but not prepared to commit in any other way shape, or form.”

“Probably a good idea, since you and Lavender just called it quits a few months ago.”

“You’re right. I should just take what she’s willing to give right now, huh?”

“Yes, because who’s to say this is going to last?”

“I think it is. It’s uncanny how much we click, both sexually and personality-wise. She’s the yin to my yang.”

“Since when did you get into Chinese philosophy?”

“I’m not, but that’s the best analogy I can find to describe how we complement each other.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “And you discovered this in a few days and a few meetings?”

“You’re jaded when it comes to affairs of the heart, Tristan, so I don’t expect you to understand the connection I’ve found with Jada.”

“But you yourself just said she doesn’t share in that—she doesn’t want anything lasting.”

“That’s a situation I’m hoping to change.”

“And if that doesn’t happen?”

He frowns. “Then I guess I’ll be fucked.” With that he leaps up from the chair and begins his pacing again.

Darryl buzzes after Nathan’s taken a couple more turns.

“Ms. Beale and Ms. Jameson are on their way up.”

I round the desk and respond. “Thanks Darryl, bring them right in as soon as they arrive on the floor.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nathan gestures toward my ensuite, and I wave to him dismissively. Gathering the documents from my desk, I place them on the center of the small round conference table in the corner, which seats six to eight comfortably. Only five of us will use it this evening— the two of us, the two women, and my General Counsel.

When my brother emerges from the ensuite, he’s smoothed his hair back on the top into a messy man-bun. I scowl at his choice of hairstyle and take a seat behind my desk, while he sprawls on the sofa, trying to look as if he hasn’t been fidgeting while waiting on the women to arrive.

Darryl ushers Keisha and Jada into the room without knocking, and Nathan and I stand as the women enter the room.

“Ms. Beale, Ms. Jameson—”

“Jada, Keisha—”

We say simultaneously.

“Gentlemen,” Jada says formally, while Keisha goes with the less formal, communal “Hello.”

We all smile politely, albeit a bit awkwardly until I say. “Please let Gibson know we’re ready, Darryl. Thank you.”

He promptly leaves the room. His departure ignites a maelstrom of familiarity whereby Ms. Jameson runs into Nathans arms and he picks her up and swings her around.

Unwilling to be out-maneuvered by my demonstrative brother, I move in on Keisha and kiss her soundly, and she eagerly returns my affection. Nathan is still kissing Jada when Keisha and I part.

“Darryl will be back, so let’s restrain ourselves, shall we?”

Keisha laughs nervously as her roommate and my brother, reluctantly part. I wonder what she thinks about their rather sudden affair? I’ll have to remember to ask her about this soon.

I herd everyone over to my small round conference table. Once we’re all seated Darryl returns with my Lead General Counsel, Carlton Gibson in tow. Gibson has never had hair on the top of his head in the almost ten years I’ve known him, but he’s one of the best corporate lawyers in Illinois. “Gibson, meet Ms. Jameson, and Ms. Beale.”

“Ms. Jameson. Ms. Beale,” Gibson says as he shakes each woman’s hand in turn.

“Nice to meet you,” they each reply.

Gibson takes a seat and folds his hands across the top of his copy of the contract. “White Enterprises uses a standard boiler plate on the first five pages of all its contracts. The language which speaks to your specific business is found in the Attachment One and ensuing attachments. Do you ladies have any questions about any of the language contained herein?”

“Actually, I do,” Jada says and dons a rather pretentious pair of reading glasses, with Nathan looking on like a proud Dom.

“The terms are very generous,” I say, with a tight laugh. “Are you hoping we will make them less so?”

“No, actually it has to do with Attachment 1, Section C, Paragraph 5, under Special Provisions, where it speaks to a change of location. I believe the language says that White Enterprise Holdings, Inc. reserves the right to request a change in location should their evaluation and subsequent demographics data suggest it will support fiscal viability. That’s a deal breaker for us because our current property is mortgage free and we’ve already made significant improvements to the property.”

“You call slapping on a little paint and erecting cubicles, significant improvement, Ms. Jameson?” I challenge. “I can get you turn-key property in a thriving retail corridor in the city center.”

“We really hoped our business would be instrumental in the revitalization of the neighborhood,” Jada insists. “A lot of young people in and around the Gage Park area are extremely talented, but the south side is all they’ve ever known. If we move the business farther north to attract a wealthier clientele, my concern is those kids will be lost to us.”

“You could still market to them via radio, internet, magazines, and social networking,” I say.

Jada shakes her head. “But then, transportation comes into play.”

“CTA is reliable, I understand,” is my counter-argument.

Nathan interjects. “The Buffaloes’ franchise and USABA charities go into neighborhoods all over the city.”

“And your point is?” I say.

Nate jabs his forefinger with emphasis on the table. “A seasoned Chicagoan won’t shy away from that part of town.”

I gesture toward a demographic report in my hand. “Not middle-class snobs who are afraid of that neighborhood. No offense, ladies.”

“None taken,” Jada and Keisha respond in tandem as if they’d practiced..

“What if we opened two locations? One in the south as planned and another in the north at a later date?” Nathan says.

Jada wrinkles her nose. “That would take capital we don’t have.”

“I could use another investment,” Nathan says with a smile laced with all kinds of innuendo I’m sure Gibson even picks up on. Jada smiles back at him in the same manner.

I level Nate with and glare and stand, addressing the ladies and Gibson. “Excuse us just one second, please.” I motion that I’d like to speak with my brother alone. “Nathan?”

He stands and follows me to the opposite corner of my office.

“Are you sure you want to do this after having what amounts to a couple rolls in the hay with this woman?” I whisper shout.

Nathan holds his hands up in a ‘whoa boy’ motion and whisper shouts back. “Jada isn’t just someone I’ve had a couple rolls in the hay with. She’s my submissive, dammit. Just as Keisha is now yours. You’re only objecting because you had your precious contract all drawn out and you don’t want to go back and change it.”