Collette Goes Shopping In Vegas

"What would you like to drink? I gave my butler the night off, so that we might get to know one another without intrusion," Charles Winthrop walked around the edge of the suite's bar to tend. A bit older than a silver fox, but no less attractive. Steel eyes matched his hair. A real tan to contrast the fake persona he used to disarm me. Why did he do that? His presence both aroused and concerned me; he was a Dom, I was there to train with him. But, I didn't really know what that meant.

The butler has the night off, so we get to know each other privately. The fuck did that mean? I nervously ran my fingers through my copper hair and glanced around the very posh Las Vegas suite. I took it all in, let it roll around my mind for a flash, and remembered he asked what I wanted to drink. "Gin and Tonic, please."

"On its way. How was your flight?"

"Nice, of course, I was in First Class, but you knew that. You helped arrange all this. Why did you pretend to be a driver at the airport?" I was curious and mildly annoyed, but I kept telling myself Dalia set this all up, so it can't be bad, right?

"I wanted to know how you treat a servant."

I let my irritation slip into my voice. "Did I pass?"

"I wasn't testing you. I was gathering information. Here we are," he said and handed me my cocktail.

I sipped it. To his credit, the man made a hell of a G & T. It looked as though he was drinking the same. "To your liking?"

I nodded. He sat in one of the chairs across from me. "So, is this what you do with all your trainees? Play little games to find out if they're jerks? Then what?"

"You have many questions, which is understandable," he took a sip of his cocktail, "Take your clothes off."

"Excuse me?"

"Take your clothes off."

I laughed. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I believe you'll find I have no sense of humor, Ms. Hemming."

"I did not fly across the country to strip for some billionaire who plays stupid games. That's not why you flew me out here, and Dalia did not sign me up for stripper classes."

He sipped again and thought about my answer. "Good. Defiant, smart. Follows orders when a benefit is perceived, questions them when a benefit is unclear. Ms. Hemming, I will train you, provided you are up to the challenge. Beginning tomorrow, your alarm will go off at 4, you will eat no breakfast, you will go straight to the gym, you will ask for Drew. Take a shower afterwards. You will then go to the day spa to get every bit of body hair below your lower eye lashes waxed off as needed, then get a 90 minute Swedish massage. You will return to the suite, order a fruit plate from Sebastian, and eat it. This is all to be completed by 10 am. Then, we will proceed with our training schedule, which will vary moment to moment. No coffee, no colas, no cigarettes, no red meat. All of these things sour bodily fluids. You are to follow my instructions every day, and I will know if you do not comply. There are eyes everywhere. Where there are no eyes, there are monitored cameras. Compliance will be rewarded. Do you agree to these terms?"

"No breakfast?"

"Do you agree?"

I'd miss bacon, but I had to find out what this man knew. "Agreed."

"Excellent," he stood, "your belongings are in your room, that's the door on your left. My side of the suite is there," he pointed to the right of the bar. He went on, "If you need anything in the middle of the night, do not hesitate to call the hotel and ask for it. Goodnight."

What the fuck was I doing there? I asked myself again and again, while I washed my face. I stared into my green eyes in the mirror. Had I lost my mind? Was he going to barge into my room and...I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

In the morning, I followed his orders to the letter, and when I came back, he had tossed all my clothes out. I glared at him. Well, I glared at him through his newspaper. "I require an explanation, Winthrop."

From behind the newspaper, he calmly said, "Get used to disappointment."

I got up from the table, went to my room, and slammed the door. Who the fuck did he think he was? I went into the closet and drawers, and like he said, everything was gone. Motherfucker. I came back to yell at him, but he spoke first.

"Today, Ms. Hemming, we will be shopping to replace and improve that collection you called a wardrobe. We leave at 11."

Huh.

At the lingerie store, his driver Sabrina joined us. Though the store was fully staffed, she was there to fetch and hold things, which struck me odd. Sabrina was a micro brunette with long, stick-straight hair. She wore a driver's uniform and no makeup. She was very helpful, found sizes for me, and clasped things that were hard for me to reach. The staff of the store gave Winthrop carte blanche to handle his business, and it did not seem like the first time they'd done this.

"Sabrina," Winthrop said, "help Ms. Hemming into the black suspender set on the wall."

"Right away, Mr. Winthrop." She retrieved my sizes and got in the dressing room with me. Then Winthrop joined us and closed the door.

"Hey!" I put my right arm across my boobs and my left hand over my box.

"Sabrina, pin her."

She grabbed my arms and pinned them to the wall over my head. I struggled, but I had to admit, I was really turned on. Sabrina was quite strong.

"Is everything alright in there?" a shop girl asked. Both Winthrop and Sabrina looked at me, heads tilted, eyebrows raised.

I projected, "Everything's fine. Just got scraped by a bra hook."

"Okay, well I see your entourage has left you to fend for yourself, so if need any help, my name is Judy. Just give a holler, I'll be listening for you."

"Thanks, Judy." My heart pounded in my chest.

Quietly, Winthrop said, "Sabrina, kiss Ms. Hemming."

Her lips were soft and she tasted like chocolate chip cookies.

"Stop."

Sabrina was an inch from my face.

Then, Winthrop took both of my hands in one of his and continued to pin me.

Sabrina stood more upright as she let go of my arms, and slowly smiled.

He ordered, "Begin."

She dropped to her knees and started to lick my pussy.

I looked at him, he looked at me, then put his left forefinger to his lips, and said, "Shh. Spread your legs more, Sabrina has a job to do."

I opened my hips more, and Sabrina wrapped her arms around them, and controlled how I moved on her face. I struggled to stay quiet, but she made silence very difficult. A moan escaped my lips, so he put his left hand over my mouth.

He quietly demanded, "Silent as the grave, Ms. Hemming."

Sabrina pressed two fingers into my wet slit, and her teeth nipped at my clit. My knees buckled with every nibble, but Winthrop was much stronger than he looked, and kept me on my feet with his restraining hand. I figured the sooner I came, the sooner this was over, so I concentrated. He still had his hand on my mouth, so I pressed my nostrils against it to limit my breathing. He took this to mean he should pinch my nose shut, which he did. I locked my eyes on his, and he stared into me. He let go of my nose long enough to take a deep breath and re-pinched it when I'd inflated my lungs. I sweated and shook, and I knew this girl was about to make me cum in a very public place, but none of that unnerved me like the look in Winthrop's shade-colored eyes.

It was like he was furious because he wanted something from me, and I hadn't given it to him yet. He released my nose, but kept my mouth covered. Sabrina moved her hand and teeth in time with my ragged breathing, and Winthrop came close to my face. I felt like he was reading a book of all my sins. I wanted to peel my skin off and run away. He leaned in, held my gaze, and said, "Cum."

An orgasm ripped through me like lighting. I did my best to be quiet, but it was impossible. My hips bucked hard and my whole body tried to crumble onto the girl. Winthrop held my hands in place, and kept his other hand on my mouth, as I grunted into it. Someone turned the store music up louder. Finally, I was done.

Winthrop let go and Sabrina stood shiny-faced in front of me. "Sabrina, clean all this up. Make the purchases and have them sent to the hotel. Both of you meet me at the car." He left us in the dressing room.