The Billionaire's Club

Michael marveled at the skills of the young woman kneeling in front of him. She looked straight up at him with hungry eyes as she serviced his stiff cock; hands, mouth and tongue moving in concert to deliver all manner of surprising sensations.

She introduced herself as Priya. She was the lone person inside Priti Mannar's private London office. She apologized that Ms. Mannar wasn't in at the moment, and then immediately fell to her knees. She smiled dreamily, immediately recognizing that Michael was a member of the club.

"May I serve you in the meantime, sir?" she asked.

Just a short time ago, Michael may have politely declined, trying to maintain some personal boundaries. But the last week had been an education for him. His wife was practically encouraging him to fuck other women, and Priti made it clear that he was expected to take advantage of the influence afforded to him by being a member of the club.

He told himself that there were still lines he wasn't going to cross, but he would accept a blowjob when offered, especially from somebody as alluring as Priya. She wore a tailored white blouse and a tight pencil skirt, her wardrobe accentuating her curves while maintaining the impression of professionalism. Her hazel eyes betrayed a deep and abiding need to serve him, and Michael found that combination difficult to resist.

Michael pushed deeper into her mouth, and Priya took his girth with surprising ease. He flashed back to Priti coaching his wife Joanna on how to deep throat, and figured she did the same for her assistant. He gathered her long, dark hair into a fist and held it tight, controlling her head as he fucked her mouth. Through all of it, Priya maintained eye contact as best she could, her eyes radiating bliss in spite of the strain.

She mewled as Michael pulled out of her. As she caught her breath, he pulled by the hair to her feet, and led her to the large oak desk in the middle of the office. Without prompting, she bent over the desk, her hands flat on the table, her head turning to look over her shoulder.

Michael peeled her pencil skirt up her waist, revealing black lace panties soaked in her arousal. She pushed the sheer fabric to the side and lined himself up with her entrance. He entered her with little resistance, eliciting a deep moan from Priya. Slowly, he inched his way deeper, savoring the feeling of her flesh yielding to him. Priya hummed contentedly as his hard cock gradually filled her up, and yelped when bottomed out, the tip gently kissing her cervix.

Michael pulled back slightly, Priya groaning with need.

"How do you want to be fucked?" he asked.

"Hard, sir," she replied. "I like it hard."

Michael smiled and gave her a hard smack on her right ass cheek. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. He took off his jacket and folded it neatly, his cock still buried halfway inside Priya, her cunt quivering in anticipation. He placed the jacket down on the desk beside the young woman, pushing into her as he leaned forward, causing Priya to moan deeply.

"Please, please," she said. "Please fuck me."

Michael paid her no mind as he undid the buttons on his sleeves and rolled them up. He would give her the hard fucking she asked for, but over the last few days he had found that he really enjoyed the feeling of doing these things on his terms. He grabbed at the ample brown flesh of Priya's ass, his fingers finding purchase, steadying himself as he began to pump in and out of her with wild abandon.

Priya came almost immediately, her anticipation having already brought her to the edge of orgasm. It wasn't long before she was incoherent with pleasure, her voice becoming a gurgle barely heard above the sound of flesh slapping flesh.

Michael slowed and drank in the feeling of Priya's cunt convulsing around his cock, the Indian woman still deep in the throes of multiple orgasms. Viscous fluid trailed down both thighs, dripping off as her body shook involuntarily.

Michael heard the creak of a door. He turned around to see Priti Mannar in the doorway, looking nonplussed.

"Nice to see you, Michael," she said.

"I hope you don't mind," he replied.

"Of course, not. You're welcome to her," she said. Priti walked to her desk and sat in the imposing chair behind it. "I went to university with Priya here. She was never very kind to me. Slept with a boy I was seeing."

Priti put a hand under Priya's chin, raising her head to face her. "And now look at her. Tell Mr. Lee what you've become, dear."

Priya spoke through ragged breaths. "I'm Mistress' office whore. I'm her cunt licking slave. Her private sex toy."

"Good girl," Priti said, eliciting a contented sigh from Priya. "It looks like you've made a mess of Mr. Lee's cock. Clean it for him. And clean the floor while you're at it."

"Yes, mistress," she replied. Priya pushed herself up from the table, and let Michael slide out as she rose. She then went down to all fours and started licking the floor clean of her own juices. Her tongue follow a trail of drippings up to Michael's shoes, which she dutifully cleaned as well, before getting back up on her knees to swallow his hardness.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Michael?" Priti asked.

"I have some questions pertaining to the club," he replied. "And seeing as you're still the only other member of the club that I know, I figured a visit to London might be in order."

"I'm not yet at liberty to reveal more things to you," Priti said. "The club is careful, and while I do think you've been showing real promise, there are other members who are still waiting to see what you do with your abilities."

"Then that means my membership can still be revoked."

"There's no use worrying about it, Michael," she said. "If it was revoked, you wouldn't even know."

Michael considered the implications, his focus hardly wavering even as Priya raised the intensity of her oral efforts.

"I suppose then, you're all observing how I deal with this situation with my business partner."

"I'd say that's a fair assumption."

"Then I'm happy to report that the issue is mostly resolved," Michael said. "I've already talked to the board members that were making deals with Fred."

"That's good to hear," Priti said, her expression giving away nothing.

"But there is another part of this that requires some information from you. Information that pertains to the club"

Priti raised an eyebrow.

"Alyona Semanova," he said.

"The Russian heiress," Priti said.

"Yes."

"What about her?"

"I just need to know if she's a member of the club."

Priti smirked. "She isn't. There would be very little benefit in handing that kind of power to the unaccomplished children of Russian oligarchs."

"I just needed to make sure before doing what I intend to do to her," Michael said. "Didn't want to step on the wrong people's toes." As he said this, he put his hands on the sides of Priya's head, and started thrusting into her mouth.

"Very prudent," she replied. "So, I suppose you've discovered the relationship between her and your partner?"

"I'll admit that I haven't been paying attention to who Fred has been sleeping with," Michael said. "It didn't seem important, given how much he slept around."

"A good lesson to learn, Mr. Lee," Priti said, giving him a gentle smile. "It's never just business. Everything is rooted in the personal."

"I suppose," he replied. "Anyway, from everything I've gathered, she's been the one prodding Fred to take over completely."

"That's safe to assume," Priti said. "My networks indicate that this isn't even the first time she's done something like this."

"My networks have concluded the same," Michael said. "She seems to get off on pushing partners to seize power in their own companies. And maybe making a tidy little profit along the way."

"Impressive, Mr. Lee," Priti said. "I'm glad to see you embracing your position and doing what needs to be done."

"You've made a good case, Priti." Michael drew back a little from Priya's mouth for a second and gripped his own cock. With the head still inside her mouth, he came with a grunt. Priya looked up at him gratefully, cooing as her mouth filled with his cum. She kept her mouth open as Michael withdrew, presenting to him the full volume of his release, before swallowing the whole load.

Michael gave Priya a gentle stroke on top of her head. "Good girl," he said.

"So what are you planning to do with Ms. Semanova?" Priti asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, yet," Michael replied. "I don't want to be vindictive, really, but Fred did try to wrest control of the company I built from me. And it strikes me that maybe everyone would be better off if Alyona Semanova didn't carry on with her usual ways."

Priya smiled. "I find that I trust your judgment, Mr. Lee."

"I'm glad," he said as he zipped up. "I do have another question, Ms. Mannar. One of a more personal nature."

"Go ahead," she said.

"I've only ever seen you with other women," Michael said. "Are you just not interested in men?"

Priti gave it some thought, then leaned forward. "As you imagine, Michael, the catalyst was conceived of by men, and was designed to cater to their desires. Obedience means pleasure for anyone taking our commands, and I find that men just don't last very long under my influence, if I'm trying to fuck them. It just ended up being more of a mess and a disappointment than I was willing to deal with, and I decided that the efforts of women in getting me off were sufficient for my needs."

"So what you're saying then," Michael said, "is that the only men who could possibly satisfy you are members of the club."

"And I'd never give them the satisfaction," Priti said.

"Fair enough," Michael said.

"Although," she began, looking him up and done, "I've recently been giving some thought to broadening my horizons a little."

"Oh?"

"I'm just not certain yet that I've found the right guy."

"Give me some time," Michael said. "I'm still getting the hang of all this."

He gave Priti a slight smirk, then left her office.

***

Michael's personal assistant Millie, as it turned out, had a real knack for keeping track of people. People generally weren't too hard to find nowadays, anyway, with everyone posting things on social media. But Millie was just a whiz at such things, usually able to give him a pretty specific location within five minutes of his asking.

He had been worried at first that having sex with Millie was going to get in the way of her work. But if anything, it energized her. Maybe it was just that she was doubly obedient with the constant exposure to Michael and the scent that he gave off. In any case, Millie had actually taken on more responsibility, and things at the office managed to hum along even with all the extra activity. Now that they weren't trying to hide anything from Millie, Joanna visited Michael in his office more regularly, often inviting the assistant to play with them.

And it was through Millie's diligence that Michael learned that Alyona Semanova kept a residence in San Francisco, in one of the luxury towers in FiDi. And that on Sundays, she could often be found having brunch alone at a spot walking distance from her place. Michael strode in casually, bypassing the line, mentioning to the hostess that he was just here to meet somebody. He saw her immediately, seated at a table near a window, long, dark blond hair with blunt bangs framing a pleasantly oval face. She wore a rather plain pastel blue dress that did little to accentuate her svelte figure.

Michael walked right up to the table and sat down across her. "Alyona," he said. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Alyona stared at him, stunned, her light green eyes betraying some worry.

"Relax, Ms. Semanova," Michael said. "Enjoy your brunch."

Alyona didn't like being told to relax, but she found herself easing a little. There was just a trace of something in the air that she found...reassuring. She took a sip of her mimosa, and then started cutting a piece of the crepe that she was having.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Lee?" she asked, right before taking a bite of her food. She spoke in deep tones with deliberate, flat pronunciation, as though she were actively trying to suppress an accent.

"Well, I'm here to tell you that I've foiled your plans," he replied. "And there's really nothing you can do about it."

Alyona paused mid-chew, and stared directly at Michael. She had seen this kind of cockiness before, from men that were much more ruthless than him. And she had managed to keep an advantage every time. And yet, she felt something strange inside her; a little itch in her brain that was telling her not to defy him.

She swallowed her food and composed herself. "Why, I don't know what you're talking about."

Michael smiled. "We're going to have some fun today," he said. And oddly, Alyona felt herself agreeing. They were going to have fun, she thought. She didn't know why, but she wanted to have fun with Michael.

"Finish your meal," Michael said, with an air of authority that seemed to wash over Alyona's body, causing her to tingle all over. "I'll get the check."

And normally, Alyona would have objected to this, but whatever prideful part that would have told Michael that she could pay for her own brunch seemed so small and distant. Instead, she felt a need to finish her food. She picked up the remaining crepe with her fork and took a large bite off of it. She chewed quickly and swallowed, washing it down with mimosa. Then she took another large bite, and another, the food somehow tasting better in Michael's presence.

She watched Michael slip a hundred dollar bill into the check presenter and hand it back to the waitress. "Keep the change," he said. Alyona took note of the waitress' reaction, which to her seemed to go beyond the gratitude for a large tip. She saw a yearning in her eyes, as though she'd blow Michael right there if he had asked.

Strange, Alyona thought. Because at that moment, she realized she'd do the same.

***

Alyona was having trouble thinking. She wanted to parse what was going on, figure out what Michael wanted, and why she hadn't told him off yet. But every time she tried, every time she took stock of her situation, it would all just slip away. Thoughts felt elusive in Michael's presence, and in the elevator, there was just no avoiding him.

She took a deep breath, hoping this would settle her. But it only seemed to make his presence loom larger. There was something in his scent, she thought for a second; something that made her compliant. But that insight slipped away as well, replaced by an understanding that things would easier if she just kept playing along.

The doors opened to her private floor. Her condo looked like every other rich person's condo: hardwoods and marble and art and modern furniture, with very little indication that people really lived in there for extended periods of time. It was all very tasteful, but completely devoid of personality.

This place was, to Alyona, mainly an investment. But it proved to be a useful place to stay, since she was seeing Fred, and was trying to keep things discreet. Fred owned a unit in the building, too, so nobody would bat an eye at him regularly visiting the property. She didn't normally mind the attention, but she figured it would be better for now to keep their relationship a secret, while they were scheming to take over TMRWTech.

Except apparently, they weren't discreet enough.

"Nice place," Michael said, not really meaning it.

"Thanks," Alyona replied, not really meaning it, either. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'd rather we get down to business. Take a seat."

Alyona obeyed, feeling a tingle as she did. She sat on a white leather couch in the middle of the room. She was feeling a heat growing inside her, a tinge of arousal that felt unusual to her.

"So," Michael said, "you were plotting to get Fred to push me out of the company."

"I wouldn't say--"

"Please don't waste my time by lying to me," Michael interrupted.

No, she shouldn't lie to him, Alyona suddenly thought. "Yes," she said. "Although Fred had already grown frustrated with his position. I just prodded him along."

"What did he tell you?"

"That he didn't really feel like he was in control. That people were saying he was just a figurehead, and you were the brains behind the operation."

"Well, he wasn't wrong," Michael said.

"So. I made a few suggestions to help him get the power that he wanted."

"You're pretty clever, aren't you, Ms. Semanova?"

"I...I suppose I am."

"I think you'd be useful to me," Michael said. "But I do think you need to be punished somehow."

A chill ran up Alyona's spine upon hearing the word "punished."

"Be honest with me," Michael said. "Do you love Fred?"

"No," Alyona said.

"Didn't even have to think about it, huh?"

"He's a boor. He's good looking enough, but I was just planning to stay with him until the deal was done, and I'd reaped the rewards the efforts."

"Which would have been what?"

"On the short term, Fred was promising to drive some investment to a couple of companies that I own," she said. "And I figured that long term, far after I'd left him, I'd start shorting TMRWTech stock. It would only be a matter of time until Fred started making bad decisions."

Michael chuckled and shook his head. "You're a heartless bitch."

"It's business," she said. "We're all heartless bitches."

"I suppose that's true," Michael said, his tone unnervingly even. He walked towards Alyona and leaned in close, bringing his mouth close to her ear. She took in his scent again, activating the conditioning she didn't even know she had, turning the heat between her legs into a burning need.

"You almost won, you know," he whispered. "If you had carried this all out maybe a month earlier, I would have been caught flat footed."

Every word felt like a caress, touching her deep inside her mind. Michael rose to his full height. He wasn't especially imposing, but Alyona couldn't help but feel the power that he was projecting. He was in control, and there was nothing she could really do about it.

"But I changed, Alyona. And I'm going to change you, too," he said.

"W-what do you mean?" she sputtered, her voice quivering.

"Tell me what you want, Alyona."

Her mind raced for an answer, and it kept coming back to the same thing. And she couldn't lie to him--that much she knew.

"I--I want to be fucked."

Michael smiled. He held her hand and brought her to her feet. He turned her around and lowered the zipper on her dress. It fell to the floor. Every little thing he did felt inevitable, like it was something that just needed to happen for everything to be right. Alyona felt a little thrill every time he did anything at all, as though getting to witness his will play out was a reward in itself.

"Get your phone," he commanded as he unclasped her bra. She reached for her purse, the garment barely hanging on her. She felt him hook his fingers into the sides of her soaking panties, peeling them off her, exposing her unbridled arousal.

"Give Fred a call," he said, unzipping his pants. "No, better yet put him on Facetime."

Alyona's fingers trembled as she pulled up Fred's contact. There was still a part of her that was struggling with what was going on, but it grew faint as her body continued to reward her for doing what she was told. It felt right to be doing so, felt downright pleasurable to be complying with whatever Michael was asking. She pressed the Facetime button and shivered in delight.

As the phone rang, Michael prompted Alyona to kneel on the couch and bend forward. She propped up her elbows on the backrest, the phone in her hands, Fred's contact picture on the screen.