Charles strode into his home office at 10:30am on a sunny Tuesday. He had just finished his morning workout and was feeling energized for what today would bring. He had given himself twenty minutes to interview a new housecleaner, followed by a session with Samantha at 11. He sat at his desk, took a breath to center himself, and pulled up Becky's resume. There was no particular reason why he chose to interview her over the other candidates, just a gut feeling.
Having retired at 40 from a successful tech startup, Charles was thoroughly enjoying the prime of his life. He owned an estate in the hills of Silicon Valley where he pursued his many passions. With an intense presence and voracious curiosity, Charles' main interest these days was people. He wanted to know what people held in the deepest recesses of their souls, beyond what they often even allowed themselves to know. He found great pleasure in creating situations where he invited people to reveal themselves. Once he discovered this game, he couldn't get enough of it.
He buzzed Becky into his office. As she walked in and took a seat across from his desk, Charles quickly sized her up:
Fit body. Shy smile - she's nervous. Conservatively dressed - she's not trying to be eye candy which means she'll do a good job of cleaning, no wedding ring, ah - pearl earrings! She's a good girl.
By the time she sat in the chair, Charles had already decided he wanted to hire her and his plans were clicking into place. Besides having her clean, he wanted to see how much she would be willing to let her wild woman loose.
"You arrived early and followed the instructions to get into the property. I like that." Charles flashed his most expansive smile.
"Oh yes," Becky assured him, "I'm always on time and very good at following instructions." She tucked her curly brown hair behind her ears and then smoothed her palms over the tops of her thighs. She was sitting up very straight.
Becky needed this job. She was putting herself through nursing school by doing house cleaning jobs, but somehow her current load had dwindled. She knew it was the night shifts at school that were making it harder for her to focus on work during the day. If she didn't land this job, she was going to have to take out another loan in order to pay rent at the end of the month. She shuddered.
Whatever it takes, get this job.
Besides, this house was huge and this guy was clearly insanely rich. It felt like the answer to her prayers.
I just hope he's not an asshole. Rich men are usually assholes.
But Charles seemed nice enough. He asked questions quickly and barely waited for her answer before asking another one. She felt like she couldn't get a hold of the conversation, but Charles was beaming a warm presence at her which helped her relax a little. She decided he looked like a light-weight boxer - he was clean cut, muscular without being bulky, and moved quickly.
As long as he's smiling, I'm doing great.
Becky thought.
"Now Becky," Charles' tone shifted as he slowed down, "I'm going to make you an offer here and I want you to really consider it before you say yes." Becky was automatically nodding her head. "I'm going to pay you double your normal rate." He paused to observe Becky hold her breath and widen her eyes. "And I ask for three things in return." Another pause.
I may be dramatic, but this sure is fun.
Charles gave a simple smile.
"First, I ask for total honesty. I'm welcoming you into my home and paying you generously for your work. I have zero tolerance for lying, sneaking, or stealing."
Becky's head nodded more vigorously at this statement.
"Second, you may see other people coming and going from his house. Do not, under any circumstances speak to or engage with anyone except for me."
"Third, do you see that red door along the back wall of the living room?" Becky's gaze followed his pointing finger. "That room is off limits. I want you to clean the whole house, but never enter that room. Understood?"
Becky's mind began to race.
That's it? Don't steal, don't talk, and don't go in that room? And he's going to pay me double? Easy!
Becky confidently lifted her chin, "I understand how personal it is to have someone come clean your home. I will absolutely agree to those three requests. You can count on me."
"I had a good sense about you from the beginning Becky. Don't let me down." Charles' brain was already shifting gears to his next appointment with Samantha. "Here is the contract. Sign here... Can you start today? Wonderful." And with that Charles strode efficiently out of the room, leaving Becky to integrate her good news.
===
Charles is the most dangerous man I know. Samantha mused as she changed out of her business suit and into a black lace lingerie. He has power and money and prestige, but what makes him dangerous is that he doesn't care about any of those things. He's not using me for sex either - it's disorienting.
And this is exactly why Samantha was paying Charles a ludicrous fee for a session in his dungeon every week. She savored the pulse in her pussy at the thought of danger.
One month ago, seemingly out of the blue at the end of a business meeting, Charles leveled her with his dead-serious intensity and stated, "I know what you want."
A small laugh escaped her lips, as Charles had caught her off guard with the comment. And then her body coiled like a cobra ready to strike. "Charles, do not waste my time with your bullshit."
"I'm not bullshitting you. I'm offering you a gift: I know what you want." Charles was unphased.
New tactic:
"Ok then," devilish smile, "please, tell me what you think I want." She flipped her blonde hair to the side, and recrossed her legs slowly and deliberately.
"Every meeting you're in, you're the most powerful person in the room. I hired you as my lawyer because you pin arrogant tech bros to the wall and make them bleed. You are gorgeous and merciless. A natural killer." It wasn't flattery or seduction. Charles was simply speaking the truth. "But you don't want power. You already have it."
Men are so predictable. Now he's going to tell me what I really want is his cock. And then I'll pretend to soften and next thing you know, I'll have him by the throat and I'll be $20 million dollars richer.
"You don't want to be powerless either." Unflinching intensity. "You are disgusted by how people give their power away."
That's not what she was expecting. Suddenly Samantha could feel the fear gather at the back of her throat. She held her composure as she realized she had misread his intentions and now had no idea what Charles was doing.
Same tactic:
"Ok Charles, if you're so smart, why don't you fill me in?" She leaned back, subtly allowing her breasts to perk up. Years ago, she had mastered the art of showing off her body without seeming like she was trying to.
"Containment. You want containment."
Samantha blinked twice. Her mind went blank and then she took a massive breath of air as if she had just dropped a 50 pound weight off her chest. She suddenly felt naked and held back tears from the corners of her eyes.
Charles tilted his head slightly and softened his gaze, as if to convey,
I'm not going to hurt you.
Then:
"What you actually want is just to feel your own power, in your own body, in a space that is safe enough to hold you."
The truth of these words was visceral for Samantha. Her pussy was wet, her chest was trembling, and the tears had started to flow. It was the most vulnerable "Fuck you." she had ever whispered.
Charles leaned back in his chair and took a few breaths to observe Samantha.
What an incredible woman.
Then he brought his attention into his own body: pure, calm, aliveness.
This is what I live for: speaking truth fearlessly and the intimacy that it unlocks.
