Note: No sex in this chapter, but lots of build-up and sexual tension. If you want a CH2, please let me know in the comments!
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"Right here, good?" your Uber asks.
"Yes, thank you," you reply.
Stepping out of the Uber, you stand on the street in front of an enormous antebellum style home. It's the only home this far down the road, and given the nature of the job advertisement, you assume it must be my home.
"House servant wanted." The job listing had said. "More details available upon request."
Walking up to the door, your mind races. The exciting adventure you were imagining online, is now all too real, and you begin to wonder if the money is really worth it to you. If everything included in the contract was legitimate, I would be paying you for one day's work what you would normally make in a month. Only... this job required a different kind of work.
You ring the doorbell, unable to stop envisioning the endless scenarios demanded of the role. The contract explicitly stated you were not required to have sex with me, in order to be paid, but it also said you were legally allowing me to touch you, command you, and dispense both pain and pleasure, as needed. And that you could quit at any time, so long as you explicitly stated such.
The doorlock clicks, and the heavy door swings open. A large man in a black suit steps through and shuts the door behind him, now looking you in the eyes with a scowl.
"Mr. Hammer?" you ask.
The man grimaces, clearly angry about something. "He's inside. The ungrateful bastard-" the man snarls as he briskly walks past you without looking back. "Short by 1%, and he fires me- the fucking prick!"
You watch him leave, your adrenaline pumping, and then look back at the door. Not a great sign. But something compels you to continue.
Swallowing, you reach out your hand. The instructions on the email did say to come inside, if no one came to the door. You close your eyes for a moment and inhale deeply, opening the door.
Upon entering, you step into a large and lavish foyer. Dark wood everywhere. Spacious and in perfect condition. Expensive furniture and artwork all over the place, tapestries and paintings covering the walls.
"Mr. Hammer?" you call out, your soft voice echoing through the foyer.
A moment passes, and just when you start to call out again, you hear a man's voice respond, from some corner of the house, "In here."
Following the direction of the voice, your footsteps click through the foyer, until you reach the hallway where you believe to have heard the voice. Seeing an open door, you look inside and see what appears to be an office, and a dark desk at which I sit.
"Come in," I say, without looking up from my computer screen. "Take a seat."
You sit at a chair in front of my desk. I still haven't looked at you, and you can now see I'm on the phone.
"No," I say, looking at the computer screen. "If I had wanted to play it safe, I would've explicitly told you so. Sell those garbage shares immediately. Don't you ever assume to 'understand' my financial strategy without checking in with me, first- is that clear?"
I look at the watch on my wrist, the sleeves to my glossy black button-up shirt rolled up to my elbows.
"Just get it done," I say, hanging up the phone.
You look at me, attentively.
"It's you," I say, standing up and coming around the desk to face you. "You're early."
You swallow, sensing maybe a slight annoyance in my tone, "Yes, Mr. Hammer, I wanted to make sure to show you how punctual I am. I'm new to the city, and wasn't sure if there'd be traffic, or anything like that.""
I blink, expressionless. The sound of your feminine voice turns me on. I lean back against my desk as my eyes study your appearance, examining every detail.
"The man you saw leaving was an employee of mine," I start. "I put him in charge of a small section of my business, and he failed to meet our goals. He was an underperformer. I pay people who take their jobs seriously and know how to take orders."
I pause long enough that you blurt out, "I can take orders."
I fold my arms, "Is that so?"
"Yes, Mr. Hammer."
"In that case, you will address me as 'sir' going forward. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," you respond.
"Good- you've passed your first test. I don't have time to train slow learners."
You smile nervously, nodding, wondering if I was making a little joke there, or if you should laugh.
"You're new to the city, yes?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you've read and signed your contract?"