Peter Decker billionaire is a different person from the guy I knew for years. We were school mates, and he's a part of my family. My father treats him like a son. The Peter today is sexually dominated, assertive and fearless. Maybe I'm the problem, highly educated with no insight or common sense.
Peter planned to have me for himself from the first time he saw me, I discovered later. I just thought it was so sophisticated that an upper classman paid me attention. My feelings for him were as a sister. His feelings toward me were much different. We attended the same colleges and even law school, but he never took the bar or practiced. He is a master business man. We attended the same social/charity events, but never together. He just stayed in the background - waiting and watching.
I've never considered myself submissive. On the contrary, I was and am a very successful partner in a law firm. I go up against some of the biggest and worst corporate leaders and their lawyers. For two weeks of being fuck day and night, I tried to keep Peter out of my head. Be strong, stay in control I told myself.
"You can leave anytime you want," Peter tossed my little thin dress at me; my only clothes for the last two weeks. I arrived thinking I was meeting my now ex. I came sexy - dress and no underwear. I found that I was the prize Peter won playing cards with the bastard. I've been nude all this time, not allowed clothes. He stood and watched me dress before putting me out on the front porch. It was cold and dark. I didn't know where I was, and I had no transportation. It took two cars and private jet to get to where ever this was. This was not a good idea. You know what happened next - I banged on that door and begged Peter to let me in.
Peter opened the door, "What do you want?" I was still standing out in the cold. It took a minute to understand the question. It was obvious I wanted in. "I want to come in," I answered with attitude.
Peter just repeated, "What do you want? I was really pissed now. I was tricked into coming here. I was screaming at him, trying very hard to slap his face. I tried first with my right hand, next my left. With ease, he forced my hands behind my back.
Peter asked me "which is it?"
"What? Which is what? What the hell are you talking about?" I was crying, and screaming.