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“Yes Sir. Your driver was already waiting for me when I exited the building.”

At this point, Lewis, as he has done in the past, casually reached out and not-so-casually slapped my face hard, “you call him my driver, even though you fucked him that day.”

“Yes Sir. Victor was waiting outside for me.”

“Were you surprised when Victor handed you the note?”

“Very much so, I was not expecting that at all.”

Victor had handed me a note from Lewis shortly after I got settled in the car. I was sitting quite gingerly with my ass so sore, and read the note quietly to myself:

WHORE, I HAVE AN OFFER FOR YOU, NO STRINGS ATTACHED. I KNOW YOU’LL BE SORE WHEN YOU READ THIS, BUT IF YOU NEED SOME COCK BEFORE BED, FEEL FREE TO INVITE MY DRIVER VICTOR UP TO YOUR APARTMENT. UP TO YOU, I DON’T CARE EITHER WAY, LEWIS.

I looked up and saw Victor looking back at me via the rear view mirror with that wishful look in his eye. He looked like a puppy hoping for a treat. My body was a mess. My inner cunt lips were so sore from that damn flogger, I wasn’t even sure if I could handle a cock that night. But how could I say no to those puppy-dog eyes.

“How many orgasms did Victor have?”

“He had four, Sir. He didn’t leave until after 3:30 am.”

“How many did you have?”

I blushed deeply, “I had four as well, Sir. Maybe five.”

“You can’t deny you are a real whore.”

“I cannot deny it, Sir. I had a choice. I chose to let him fuck me. I wanted him to come up to my apartment, I was sore….but the pleasure was worth it.”

“Victor told me he asked you something in the elevator, on the way up?”

“He did, Sir.”

“What did he say?”

“He said: ‘I hear you like it rough?’”.

“And what did you answer?”

“I answered: ‘Yes, I like it rough. I like it very rough’”.

To my complete and utter shock, Lewis moved into me and kissed me upon hearing my answer. He kissed me full on the lips. He kissed me passionately, wrapping his arms around me. I was in heaven. I almost smiled into the kiss out of giddiness. Then, I kissed him back. Best I could. I kissed him, hoping the moment would last forever. I spent the last week worried he might have lost respect for me, if he had any in the first place, for fucking his driver. Yet, here he was kissing me so affectionately.

The kiss lasted at least five minutes before Lewis pulled away, and then his final question shocked me as much as the kiss: “Would you like to go on a date with me next week?”

My knees almost buckled, I had to blink away tears, “Yes.”

CHAPTER 7: OUR FIRST DATE

One week later, a day after the date…

I lay in bed and cried most of the day.

The date had not been what I expected. I mean, I had no clear expectations. I didn’t know if I’d be whipped, or fucked, or dined, or what would happen.

I spent most of the day getting ready. I had my hair done at a great salon, including a mani and a pedi. Even though I have a decent closet, I was sporting a brand new outfit. I didn’t know whether to play it casual, or play it on the dressy side. Hence, I made careful selections that could go either way, a casual top with a dressy skirt, a sexy belt, and just the right jewelry and accessories. Plus, I was further prepared. Lewis had said to pack an overnight bag. This gave me room to maneuver. I had a few back-up clothes and accessories in the bag, just in case I had to make modifications on the fly. If Lewis had something elegant and formal planned, I had a stunning necklace stashed in the bag that would elevate my look. Or, if we were headed to a local pub, I had casual shoes in place of my heels. All in all, I was confident I’d be okay when Victor came to pick me up at 6:00 pm as planned.

When we arrived at Lewis’s, I was quite surprised when a woman answered. She was quite lovely, slightly older, long dark hair with heavy make-up. I assumed momentarily this was going to be a double-date, and that another couple was joining us. However, once inside it was apparent the three of us were alone. Lewis barely acknowledged me. He was busy in the kitchen preparing dinner. He liked to cook? Who knew? I was immediately put-off by his rudeness, but I didn’t let it show.

The woman introduced herself as Veronica, but as I started to tell her my name she interrupted: “I don’t care what your name is slut, get those clothes off and go kneel in the corner.”

Oh fuck. In that moment I realized, this wasn’t a real date. My heart sank. I felt like such a fool. But why was Lewis playing such cruel head-games with me? He was controlling me, pimping me out, making money off me, why mess with my head? I felt stupid, but I obeyed without hesitation, and without showing any attitude. My thoughts were full of piss and vinegar, but I didn’t dare let it show.

I stripped, and folded my clothes into a neat pile, placing them on the floor beside my overnight bag. Intuitively I knew to face the corner itself with my back to Veronica and Lewis. They conversed, mostly about past friends, who was doing what, who was with whom, etc. At times I could overhear the conversation, but at other times, I could not. Lewis continued to prepare dinner, and clearly he was making something elaborate. I kneeled and waited. Perhaps I was there for sexual use after the dinner?

I couldn’t quite determine if there was any romance between Lewis and Veronica. Were they friends? Were they fuck-friends? Mostly, I couldn’t help but wonder why he misled me? Why did he use the word ‘date’, instead of just telling me to come over so I could eat his girlfriend’s pussy or whatever?

Eventually they sat down to dinner. My knees were getting progressively sorer on the hardwood floor. I could deduct from the conversation that they were having truffle soup, steak Madagascar, a bottle of Amarone followed by a bottle of Barolo.

I endeavored to transport my thoughts elsewhere. I reminisced about my childhood. I tried to make a mental list of errands that needed to be accomplished the following week. Basically, I attempted to pass the time by pretending I was elsewhere, instead of kneeling like a worthless whore in the company of a couple enjoying a lovely dinner.

In fact, lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t hear Veronica say, “Whore, come, eat.”

I crawled toward them. It was only in that moment I realized how hungry I was. I had barely eaten the entire day. In part out of nervousness and eager anticipation for our “big date”, and in part because I expected that dinner was on the agenda. The aroma of delectable food permeated the room, and as I got nearer I could see that there was plenty of steak left on the serving platter in the middle of the table. The meat might be cold by now, but I figured it would still taste great. When I arrived at my destination, I kneeled beside Veronica like a puppy dog. Since she was the one who summoned me over, I would treat her as the person in charge.

That’s when she lowered her plate to the floor. What?? There was plenty of steak leftover. I wasn’t expected to eat the remnants of her dinner, was I? When the plate was placed on the floor, I seriously debated standing up, gathering my things, and getting the fuck out of there. Lewis could have me whipped by anybody, but this was bullshit. I hesitated, but then I lowered my head. Maybe it was because I was so damn hungry, and the food – even Veronica’s castoff pieces - looked so good. I ate everything that was on her plate. It was bit messy, and thankfully, while I was not permitted to use cutlery, I was allowed to use my fingers. Lewis meanwhile slid his plate across the table to Veronica, which she dumped onto the plate from which I was feasting like a beggar. They finished their wine while I finished my meal as quietly as possible. When Veronica passed me down her glass of water, half drunken, I actually said “thank-you”. She patted my head which truly made me feel like a pet dog.

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