When I say I am rich, I don't say it to brag about it. I actually did very little to earn most of it, but I have worked quite hard to maintain it and grow it. I tell you this so you understand when I say Mistress Angela is rich, you might understand what that means. I have a personal fortune worth something in the vicinity of $50 million dollars. That doesn't mean I have $50 million in the bank, but if you add up the value of the stock and real estate I own, it adds up to something like that. In the United States, the current average net worth of an individual is around a few hundred thousand dollars. That includes retirement accounts, houses, cars, savings, etc. That means I have about 150 times the net worth the average person has. It puts me into a whole different world of mansions, and country clubs, and hyper cars. Rarely do these two worlds intersect and that is why I can do what I do without much concern that one of my peers might recognize me while I am out slutting up the town.
This is a long winded way of trying to make you understand that the same gulf exists between myself and Mistress Angela, only in reverse. She has a net worth measured in the billions of dollars. She is a peer of the richest 1% of the richest 1%. Basically that puts me beneath her notice and we do not have remotely the same social circle. That means I am as safe to be myself with her as I am with the patrons of the diviest downtown dyke bars. We are literally living on different planes of existence.
We met through a mutual acquaintance. This acquaintance had been a "client" of my alter ego and as far as I knew, didn't know my true identity. Her and Mistress Angela had met at a retreat in the Alps and had discovered they had mutual interests in domination, sadomasochism and sex games. They had found ways to entertain each other in the evenings, but since neither was a true submissive, they really couldn't scratch the others itch. That's how my name came up. And a couple weeks later I received a call from Mistress Angela's private secretary to set up a meeting. The secretary had contacted me at my whore number so that gave me a pretty good idea of what this meeting would be about.
The meeting took place at an office downtown. The penthouse office to be precise, of a 50 story building. The security guard at the reception desk in the lobby directed me to a private elevator and gave me a key card. There were no buttons in the elevator, just a pad to scan the card. Which I did, and the elevator headed up. Now I was getting intrigued. Anybody with a private elevator was somebody to take note of.
A young woman who appeared to be in the mid 20's met me at the elevator. She appeared to be of Asian ancestry and had long straight glossy black hair. She was dressed in conservative business attire including a short gray jacket over a cream-colored silk blouse with a matching knee length gray skirt. Her heels were at least 5 inches high and were crimson red, surprisingly flashy considering the rest of the conservative outfit.
She said, "Follow me" with a slight accent I couldn't place and turned and headed down the short hallway to a set of frosted glass double doors. There was no business name on the doors. Presumably if you got this far you knew why you were here and who you were here to see. The woman, who I presumed was some sort of secretary or administrative assistant scanned a card at the reader, opened the door and motioned me through.
Inside was an office reception area with a desk and a small seating area. It was nicely appointed, and it looked fairly typical, but to a knowing eye you would recognize that everything was in the latest styles from the best designers. There were exotic woods, dark leather and splashes of stainless steel. However, the floor was the remarkable thing. And the casual observer might have missed it. It was marble. But I don't mean it was tiled in marble. As near as I could tell, it was a single piece of marble that was at least 20 feet square. I had no idea what that must have cost or how hard it mush have been to install. But it must have been done at the time of construction and protected throughout the rest of the construction process.
As most offices had these days there was a large television on one wall. This one was of excellent quality, but that wasn't what I was meant to notice. Playing on the television, in high def glory, was a video of a woman strapped to an upright X frame while a second woman made effective use of a cat-o-nine tails across her bare back and ass. The sound was off, but I could tell from experience the whip was being used earnestly. Even without the sound, the look of pain and the subjects reactions appeared genuine, rather than the acting you get in cheaply produced internet porn.
I took no notice of the video. If she was looking for me to be shocked she had greatly underestimated my level of experiences. Not only was the video hardly enough to shock me, I had personally been on the receiving end of similar treatment.
After giving me a minute to take in the reception area, the lovely young woman moved to one of the doors exciting the room, opened it and waited for me. This might have been some sort of test, maybe others had been here before me and didn't pass the test, but I hadn't seen anything yet to give me pause and I walked to her and through the door.
It led to a long hallway with several doors leading off. She walked around me and spoke for just the second time, but with the same words, "Follow me." And she proceeded down the hall and I followed. At the end of this hallway she used the key card to open another door and again made a motion for me to enter.
This room appeared to be something of a conference room. There was a long table with a dozen high backed leather chairs in the center of the room and a wall of computer monitors or televisions on the end wall. The wall across from the door was floor to ceiling glass and afforded an incredible view of the city.
"Please be seated, my name is Ehri" said the woman in the killer red shoes. And she handed me a thick manilla envelope.
"Open the outer envelope, please" she instructed.
Inside I found a sheaf of papers, two additional manilla envelopes, a smaller letter sized envelope and a key.
The woman in the red shoes said, "We have much to discuss. Consider this a job interview of the most intimate nature. I have been tasked with asking several questions you may be uncomfortable answering."
"In an effort to make you feel more comfortable discussing such matters with me I have been instructed to set an example and bare my soul, as it were, to you. Hopefully this will show you there is no subject you should be afraid to discuss with me or that I will be shocked to hear."
I did not doubt her, and I am certainly not shy about discussing the most intimate of subjects and variations on the subject. But nothing makes a believer like seeing the proof firsthand.
Ehri said "Please take the key".
It was a small key, like for a locker or a pad lock and as I was examining it Ehri stood, pushed her chair back and leaned over the table. As she did, she lifted her skirt over her hips to expose her firm, shapely ass.
She rested on her elbows, her long dark hair spilling over and obscuring her face. I heard her say, " I am instructed to allow you to examine me. I was instructed how to prepare myself for this meeting"
Obviously I was meant to view the parts she had bared and I stood and moved to stand behind where she leaned across the table, her feet slightly spread. At first I didn't think she was wearing underwear, but as I moved behind her I got a glimpse of what appeared to be a narrow thong running between the cheeks of her beautiful ass.
