She gets off the plane and hurries through the terminal to baggage claim. The grime of the flight still clings to her skin and mixes with the humid air fighting through the airport air conditioning. She feels gross and dirty.
She scans the crowd by the carousel and sees her ride there to pick her up. He comes over and they embrace, but she is distracted by everything else and he instantly notices.
"What's up...you look frantic, Emily."
"I know. I have a conference call in 2 minutes. It's with my bosses and I can't be late or miss it. They could fire me. Of course my fucking plane HAD to be late on this of all days."
He had heard this refrain before from her.
"Do you want me to grab your bag...I can - "
"Yes. I'm going to go take this."
"Okay - did you want to eat dinner in or out...there is this new..." but before she can even hear the end of his question she is off to the other side of the concourse...phone pressed to her ear as the call begins.
Just like her to blow me off, he thinks as the resentment builds inside him. She'd been gone an entire week and this is the greeting he gets?
A few minutes passes and as he grabs her rollerboard from the claim area he turns to see her walking back toward him, the phone call apparently over.
"That was quick, now about dinner I - "
"Not now. The CEO had to step out for a minute so I have to get back on the call in 15 minutes."
Is this how the whole weekend is going to be? He starts to stew even more angrily as they walk toward the elevators to the parking garage. The whole time she trudges in silence, staring only at her phone as she flicks through email after email.
As they enter the elevator alone the doors close. Again he asks about dinner, but she doesn't even hear the question. Consumed by the phone clutched in her hand.
He feels the annoyance rising inside of him. Her constant fixation with her work has been driving her further and further away. Constantly absorbed by calls and emails from her office. Maybe it was time she was reminded of his importance to her. Maybe she needed to be reminded of his needs.
Boldly, he moves toward her, ripping the phone from her hand.
"What are you doing?" she exclaims in disgust. "I have to get this email out and I have to get back on that call in 15 minutes!!"
"I think you've forgotten your priorities here" he says. "Maybe you need a reminder on what is really important. On what is really important to me. And of my importance to you."
"What the fuck are you talking about? Just give me the phone! I have to be back on this call. It's with my bosses and I cannot miss it. They'll fire me if I'm not there. Please...I just..."
"If you want to get back on this call you'll need to show me you remember what I mean to you. Show me you remember there is more to your life than this fucking job. If you can do that and I'm satisfied you mean it I'll maybe let you make that call."
With that he slams the stop button on the console, and the elevator lurches to a halt.
She stares at him, dumbfounded, as the seriousness of his tone begins to sink in.
"Yes, please, yes. Anything. I'll do whatever..."
But her voice trails off as he loosens his soft leather belt and throws it at her feet.
"Get on your knees and pick that up" he demands.
"But...but I'm not sure...the time...my phone..."
"NOW!" he yells. "Latch it around your wrists."
Meekly, she kneels onto the cold tile floor. She sees the shadow of him move toward her as she reaches down for the belt. She looks up at him standing there, the phone in his hand.
"You have 12 minutes left now. 12 minutes for you to show me how important this call is. 12 minutes for you to remember that most important thing. Tell me what that is, Emily."
She stares up at him...and opens her mouth to speak as she ties her hands together with the belt.
"Tell me!"
"I...I don't know what you you want me to say!" she quivers.
"Tell me you're my filthy little whore."
She hesitates again, as the gravity of the situation bears down on her. All she can think about is the clock ticking down on her call. That call she cannot miss. She knows she'll do anything to make it.
"I'm...I'm your filthy little whore" she whispers, almost imperceptibly.
"And as my whore you're going to suck my cock. Right here. Right now in this elevator."
She gasps at the demand and opens her mouth to protest but before she can utter a word he is standing in front of her, the bulging mass of his dick pushing against his pants inches from her face. He plants his foot onto the belt, trapping her hands next to the floor. With one hand he wraps his hand through her hair and pulls her face up to look at him. With the other he unzips his pants and pulls his pants and underwear down to his knees.
He is in complete control now. Controlling her career, her mind, and her body. His cock grows quickly hard as he whispers to her "Suck that cock you little slut."