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Naya looked in the mirror and saw the accusing face of her roommate. It hadn't been the first time she'd seen Rebecca give her that look. The phenomenon had been intensifying all week.

"You shouldn't go, Naya. Look, I know you think this is the 'adventurous' thing to do. But this is shady, and if I may say, more than a little creepy. I mean, what do you really know about this guy?"

Damian Cruceaux. The man who'd placed the online ad seemed as mysterious as his picture suggested. Naya glanced at her smartphone. The face staring back at her seemed cynical, the eyes hard, almost cold, as if they'd seen too much. He was at least a decade her senior, but his lean face had somehow retained the charm of a much younger man. Damian's eyes were smoky grey. His figure was compact, and even under the dark purple dress shirt, muscles rippled.

She flipped on her phone to the original ad, staring at the words one more time.

Wanted: a beautiful college age female. Adventurous, open to possibilities, and above all - SUBMISSIVE. Spend one evening with Damian Cruceaux, billionaire entrepreneur. Do whatever he asks, when he asks. Be his for an evening and, if you play your cards right, Damian might just keep you for a while. Offering: $2 million the first night. Price negotiable after that. Do you dare?

Naya stood about 5'5. Some might have called her petite from a distance, but she had noticeable curves and a body that screamed feminine beauty. She glanced in the mirror one last time, adjusting her skintight, shimmery, and strapless black dress. It matched the glossy, charcoal-black hair that hung in wavy lushness a good few inches past her shoulders. Lithe and athletic, Naya had been a shoo-in for the track team at Triton University. She was also a senior studying engineering.

The roommate behind her was like a softer version of Naya. Rebecca's short, curly hair and mischievous eyes were always looking for the next prank to play. But now they were unusually serious, and had been ever since she'd discovered that Naya had responded to that outrageous online advertisement.

It was insane. Absolutely insane. Naya secretly agreed with her friend's assessment. She was on the pill, just like the disclaimer in the ad required, so it wasn’t like she was going to get pregnant. But a lot of other things could happen. It wasn't exactly safe.

"Why, Naya? Just tell me why? We're going to graduate in a few more months. Is this, like, some last stupid stunt you think you need to do before you become a responsible adult? Because I promise you, there are less stupid ways to do something impulsive and fun. You don't know WHO this guy is, Naya. He could be a serial killer for all you know!"

Naya wanted to tell her the truth. That engineering was what her parents had always wanted her to do. That this had been THEIR dream, not hers. Now that she was so close to achieving it, she didn't feel elated or even encouraged…she felt empty. Doing something thrill-seeking like this - it actually made her feel alive. She didn't want to think about the future, at least not for the time being. Running across the online ad in an obscure forum had seemed like a cosmic sign to Naya. Crazy or not, I'm going to do this, Naya decided. She was going to have what she hoped might be the night of her life, come what may.

CHAPTER 2

The evening began as Naya had hoped. Just on time, 8PM, and the moon already hanging in the sky like a giant pale Frisbee, the sleek, black limousine pulled up to the curb near her dormitory. Rebecca - ever stubborn - stood by the curb with her, wearing a much less dressy jeans and a tank top. She gave her friend a goodbye hug.

"Naya Santos, you take care of yourself! Hear me? If anything, and I mean ANYTHING, happens - you call me. Or 9-1-1. Understand?" Naya looked into her friend's concerned eyes, fiery with that need to protect. She loved her roommate. This was her best friend, and she was touched how worried Rebecca was for her.

"Becky, you know I'm not stupid. I promise to be careful. Love you, girl. Now go have a relaxing night without me. Call that boyfriend you've been pining for the last few days," she said with a grin, dodging out of the way as Rebecca tried to give her a punch in the shoulder.

An impeccably dressed driver opened the door for Naya, and the college student got in before Rebecca could seek further retribution. She waved at her friend as the driver got back in, started up the engine, and drove them away. Suddenly Naya felt herself perched on pins and needles. A light rain began to fall, making the asphalt and buildings glisten with a quality Naya liked. It reminded her of magic. Wow, what a corny thought. Don't let your jitters make you say something stupid tonight, Naya reminded herself.

Would the dream she'd harbored for a magical evening tonight go as she hoped, even if she did her best? Would her best be even close to good enough for a man like Damian Cruceaux? Naya decided to ease the tension by making small talk.

"Hi. I'm Naya. Where are we going?" she asked the driver. She had caught the name 'Pierre' on his nametag. The hulking black man had a shaved head and looked like he could've played in the National Football League with no difficulty. But he didn't even respond to Naya, just rolled up the partition window and turned on some pleasant jazz music that would've drowned out any further attempts at communicating.

Naya frowned. The first tiny bit of 'I told you so' crept into her head, doing a remarkable rendition of Rebecca's voice. As the minutes ticked by, still totally unaware of where they might be headed, Naya's anxiety morphed into something else. It took on undertones of outright fear. Nearly 45 minutes passed before Naya was ready to bang on the partition and demand that 'Pierre' stop the vehicle and tell her where the hell he was taking her. Instead she finally saw a large warehouse with a bay sliding open, and the limousine eased out of the rain, pulling to a stop in a wide warehouse floor flooded with light.

The door opened carefully, and Pierre gave her a polite nod. "Forgive the length of the trip, my lady. Master's orders were to not speak to you until we arrived." The sudden warmth in the man's eyes did a lot to resettle Naya's nerves, but not completely. She slowly stepped out, turned around, and gasped at what she saw.

There were rows of beautiful young women. Many of them wore skimpy dresses, others wore pieces of greater elegance. They all looked college age, though some of them, judging by the ornateness of the gowns and heaviness of the makeup, were trying very hard to look more mature than their years.

Naya quietly let Pierre guide her over to join the line of expectant girls. She stood beside a blonde girl in a bright red dress which had a single strap that wound behind and looped around the neck, revealing two creamy shoulders and plenty of cleavage. Oops. I didn't know this would be a competition, Naya thought. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

A redhead on Naya's other side was wearing a sparkly green tank top and black slacks embroidered with rows of bright beads. She turned with a critical look in her emerald eyes. "A skank is still a skank, no matter how fine the dress," she said, looking Naya up and down like she was a damaged part on an assembly line. Naya opened her mouth, shocked at the woman's rudeness.

"Don't worry about her, honey. You know what they say about redheads…and this one's got the personality of a bull dog…which I'm sure Mr. Cruceaux will find sooo attractive," The blonde woman in the red dress interjected, taking Naya by the wrist and turning her in the other direction.

"Thanks for the save," Naya said. "I didn't know quite how to respond to that." She finally took in the details of the blonde woman's face. Her pretty blue eyes were wide and innocent now, but moments before they'd been feisty and sharp.

"I'm Claire." She held out her hand. Naya took it, gave it a gentle shake.

"I'm Naya. Pleased to meet you, Claire. That dress looks…stunning on you." Claire looked down at her own cleavage. Below the trim of the dress a ribbon of flowers flared across her torso, just highlighting her well-endowed chest that much more. Claire gave Naya a rueful smile.

"Yeah, I know it IS a little over the top. Even though I don't fit the dumb blonde stereotype, sometimes I like to play appearances and see how much people assume. You can learn a lot about people by what they do or don't ASSUME," she finished with a grin.

"What's it made out of?" Naya said, unconsciously rubbing the fabric between her fingers. Too late she realized that maybe she was being too familiar with Claire and just a bit presumptuous, but the blonde girl smiled and seemed to enjoy Naya's honest interest.

"It's satin. But more importantly, what are YOU wearing?" Naya blushed as Claire ran her elegant fingers along the silk trim of her gorgeous black dress. "Damn, woman. This hugs your figure like the gown of a goddess. I'm actually jealous. I may get points for flashiness, but you've got a lot more taste," she said with a sigh.

Naya instinctively liked Claire. She felt this palpable, immediate connection, and gave her hand a squeeze. "Do you know what's going to happen next?" Naya asked "Have you ever done something like this before?"

Claire shrugged, and the anxiety behind her eyes said as much; they were both in the same boat.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I guess he plans to weed out all but one?"

A shiver ran up Naya's spine. She remembered that the online ad hadn't said anything about there just being ONE chosen girl. What if Damian Cruceaux liked to have more than one woman in his bed? What if this mysterious billionaire wanted Naya to do things that she didn't want to do? "Do whatever he asks, when he asks." The full meaning of that hadn't started to really hit home until now.

I've made a few assumptions about what was going on tonight. What if it blows up in my face? Naya thought. She squeezed Claire's hand impulsively. "We look sexy as hell, right?"

Claire squeezed back. "Damn right we do."

The two stood hand in hand, talking to one another, trying to keep each other's spirits up and distracted while more girls were dropped off for the strangest competition Naya had ever witnessed. Pretty soon there were at least 100 young women in the warehouse. The constant pattering on the metal roofing jostled against the hushed conversations of the young women impatiently waiting. When a black limo zoomed through the bay doors, screeching to a halt, pennants fluttering with the corporate logo of Cruceaux Industries unmistakable, the whole place fell silent except for the tip-tapping above.

Two impeccably dressed men, tuxedos firmly pressed, opened the door for a steely-eyed gentleman who had to be - without any doubt - one Damian Cruceaux. Wearing a tuxedo himself, its bright silver vest contrasting sharply against his two assistants' plain white ones, Damian Cruceaux strode up to the line of young women as if he had a right to each and every one of them. But as he walked slowly down the aisle of gorgeous faces and fancifully breathtaking gowns, his eyes seemed much less concerned about the physical endowments of the women he surveyed than about other qualities.

As Naya leaned forward, peering at the billionaire's gait, he noticed that the man seemed to gloss over cleavage almost dismissively. He seemed to look penetratingly into the eyes of each girl he passed. He seemed to measure her whole posture rather than the garments she wrapped or hid herself in, Naya realized. And soon, her heartbeats beginning to thunder, Naya realized that Damian's sweep was about to reach her. She instinctively squeezed Claire's hand again as anxiety wrenched at her heart. She realized her huge blunder, her body tensing in fear.

Claire had to want to look her sexy best in front of Cruceaux, and now she had a girl she'd barely met squeezing her hand tightly like a frightened little sister. Naya was mortified. But it was too late to disengage. Damian had already swept down the aisle to survey them, and his eyes had already taken keen note of their joined hands.

What was Claire thinking? Naya imagined that the blonde woman was furious with her. She had ruined the night for both of them.

But instead Claire remained still, didn't disengage the hand - and Cruceaux looked intently at the blonde woman first, and then his piercing gaze set its sights on Naya. He seemed to linger on her glossy, midnight hair and the dark chocolate pools of her eyes. His eyes gently caressed the slimness of her shoulders before looking her up and down again for good measure. He settled on her face, and Naya tried to meet his gaze. After a few seconds, she couldn't.

Her heart began to sink as he began to turn away. But instead these words came out of Damian's mouth as he spoke to his two assistants.

"Please escort these two lovely ladies to the limo. I'll be with them shortly."

Naya exchanged a quick glance with Claire, saw the triumph in her new friend's eyes. They had done it. They had passed the first test. Claire leaned over, risking a whisper before following Damian's assistants.

"Let the night begin."

CHAPTER 3

Naya fiercely suppressed the urge to fidget as Damian slipped into the car and sat on the leather cushions opposite them. He gave them both an appraising glance that was less harsh and penetrating than the one he'd used on the factory floor just minutes earlier. The five o'clock shadow on his jaw gave him a rugged, dangerous look, complimented well by ash-grey eyes that missed nothing.

"I don't think I caught your names," he said mildly as the bay doors slid open and the limousine lurched into the night.

"I'm Naya."

Claire dared a more direct gaze than Naya could muster. "Claire."

"A pleasure to meet you both. I want you to know, that no matter how tonight transpires, you two are quite special. I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I thought otherwise."

The girls shared an uneasy look. Naya smiled nervously. "That might be the most interesting way I've ever been complimented." She found herself loosening up a bit despite the strange way Damian talked. He had an accent she couldn't quite place, and the challenge of figuring it out tormented her, but it also put her in an oddly playful mood.

"Do you say that to all your beautiful mistresses?" Naya continued boldly. Claire gave her a sidelong look filled with warning.

Damian Cruceaux chuckled. "Ah. You are a rare gem, Naya. I thought I saw a hidden fire in you. In answer to your question, no…not at all. I do not give out compliments freely. You will learn that soon enough."

The rest of the ride went smoothly, with Damian gently asking a trivial question here and there. Many of the women's own questions were answered obliquely, with a deft skill at revealing only what he desired. Naya marveled at how he deflected even the most harmless questions - about his business, his travels, his past careers.

At last, with the wind picking up and the rain pelting harder against the windshield glass, the limousine pulled up to a posh Greek-Italian restaurant. The awning read "Agiani's" and the tables behind the glass windows revealed luxuriant tablecloths and crystal ware which would've looked suitable in most multimillion dollar mansions.

It was Pierre who opened the door, but Naya flushed when Damian took her hand, guiding her out onto the sidewalk as Pierre snapped open his umbrella. When Claire moved to follow, Pierre softly put up his hand.

"Forgive me, my lady. You have other plans for the night. I see the disappointment on your face, but do not judge the evening until it's over. I would not have brought you this far only to abandon you." The huge, muscle-bound black man sounded almost gallant, and his eyes twinkled at Claire in a way that sent blood rushing to her cheeks. Even Naya could see that.

Pierre closed the door on Claire, proceeded to escort them to the restaurant entrance and gave his employer a brisk nod before retreating into the rain-washed night.

Soon Naya's heart was beating like a machinegun firing desperately at an invading army. She was sitting across from Damian Cruceaux. Of the 100 or so ladies who had tried to be his this night, he had picked HER. Naya spread her hands on either side of her, a streak of self-conscious awareness surfacing with a vengeance. She was aware of the ruby pendant at her throat, which was supposed to contrast nicely with the shimmering black in the dress. She had been going for a decadent look, and judging from the way Damian's eyes clung to her figure and rested on her face, she had succeeded.

"You are a mesmerizing woman, Naya. Now that we've passed through some of the pleasantries and gotten to know each other a little, my hope is that this dinner can be somewhat more…intimate. Do you know why you're here?"

To share a bed with a billionaire stranger, enjoying a night of passion and excess without regrets? That might have been the impulse that made Naya respond to Damian's ad in the first place, but it didn't sound so impressive now. In fact, it made her seem downright shallow. She gripped the table edge, almost ashamed that she had no direct answer.

"You're wrong, you know."

"What?" She was taken off guard. His eyes seemed to sparkle, as if he enjoyed this a little, but his face remained deadly serious.

"You're not here for a night of wining and dining and sex. You're not a girl with a one-dimensional personality. You're a young woman looking for something more out of life. More than what society says you can be. Tell me I'm wrong."

Naya let the silence engulf the table between them before she could gather her nerve. She finally found her more playful alter-ego, the one she seemed able to grab onto the more she focused on the richness in Damian's voice.

"I didn't know mind-reading was one of your talents."

"You didn't say I was wrong," he replied, his gaze sharpening.

"Because you know you're right. You ARE right," she replied, finally meeting his gaze. "I…too often, I've let others choose my dreams for me. Tonight was supposed to be about something else. I wanted to believe, just for one night, that Prince Charming existed, perhaps even a Dark Prince Charming. In a few months I'll have my engineering degree. Probably a few months after that I'll have financial independence. But that's not happiness. It feels empty to me. I see my friends become absorbed in their own little worlds, obsessing on careers and leaving everyone else behind. That's not what I want to be. That's not who I am."

"And then why me, Naya? Why take the extraordinary risk of acceding to my whims and spending the night with a man you don't even know?"

Naya took a gulp of air, feeling sweat pool on the slope between her breasts. She was saved by the waiter, who whisked by to take their order. After Damian ordered a glass of red wine for them both, the waiter vanished and the hawk-faced billionaire refocused that unsettling gaze on the beautiful feminine object of his intent.

Naya tried to just be honest. "Because you have power, because you clearly don't care what people think. I admired your honesty when I first read the posting. I admired your bluntness, the world-be-damned philosophy I sensed behind the words in your ad." Naya couldn't believe she was saying this. She sounded like another person, but it was true. This wasn't who she was when she was talking with her friends at church or with her parents.

"And? So far, have you come to any conclusions?" As he said it, he had the temerity to reach and gently rub his right hand over her left. She felt the immediate surge of warmth from his palm, and it made her arm tingle.

"Too early to tell," she whispered. "But tell me this," she said, trying to recover. "Why did you bring Claire? Why raise her hopes up only to cruelly leave her and then take me? I don't know if I can respect a man who does something like that."

Damian looked at her thoughtfully. "You hardly know this girl, yet you stand up for her. Yet you would risk putting me on the spot and angering me. Do you treat all billionaires this way, Naya?"

The brunette blushed, but she stood her ground. She forced her eyes to duel with his. She WOULD have an answer. "I'm waiting, Mr. Billionaire. Surely you've been challenged by a woman before?"

Damian laughed. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you? I prefer a feisty submissive. It's better this way."

His demeanor turned serious, though, even as that last sentence brought up alarming questions in Naya's mind.

"The truth is a lot more mundane than you would think, Naya. I care deeply for my employees. They are like family to me. Pierre has been with me for several years, but has yet to find the right woman. Tonight I was shopping not just for me, but for him. That's right, Naya - I was playing matchmaker this evening. Pierre trusted me to choose. I'm a good judge of chemistry. Even as we dine here, he has taken her somewhere else for an intimate dinner not unlike this one."

The young woman was stunned. Naya had almost forgotten Damian's hand gently rubbing not only her hand, but also her arm.

"Does that mean you're monogamous?" she asked bluntly.

Damian gave her a bemused look. "Is that really so surprising?"

Naya took a sip of her wine, letting the delicious finish dance on her palate for a few seconds before responding. "Well, can you blame a girl for getting certain ideas after you've put her in a lineup with 100 other sexed-up women?"

The billionaire nodded. "Touché. Fair enough. I guess I do owe you a more direct answer about myself. Do you know why monogamy is the highest form of relationship?"

Naya shook her head and withdrew her hand. That damnably pleasurable feeling of his hand rubbing her arm was making it difficult to think straight.

"Quite bluntly - because there are two things in this world which matter to me more than anything else. Jealousy and loyalty."

Naya risked reaching out her hand, stroking the top of his. Let him have a taste of his own medicine, she decided. "That seems an odd pairing," she replied.

"I've seen relationships ruined by jealousy - not just of other people, but of mere objects, of wealth. Any time you have a relationship which is not foremost between two people, jealousy exists. It must exist. It must always leave one of the three wondering, 'Am I valued less? Do the other two really need me?' A man was made to be with one woman, and a woman with one man."

The brunette's chocolate-hued eyes widened in pretend shock. "Those are DEFINITELY not the words I expected to come out of the mouth of Damian Cruceaux."

"Yet they have, but don't misunderstand me. I will do anything for the woman I love. If the woman I love asks me to take another woman to bed with me, I will do it. If she insists that I let a man take her right in front of me, I couldn't deny her even that. There is nothing I will not do for a woman, as long as her request does not come tainted by greed." The hard line of his jaw had melted into a wry grin. "Of course, you probably find me an odd mix of traditional romantic fancy and things more decadent, shadowy and forbidden. There are few women who have ever understood me. The only one who ever fully did was the one who tore out my heart."

The dark-haired girl's hand stilled on Damian's, no longer stroking. She clutched his hand tightly, and her eyes softened. Naya couldn't believe that this powerful billionaire sitting before her could echo the thoughts of a boy once innocent. He was much more than the stereotypes she'd conjured up about him in her head.

Though she couldn't explain it, Damian Cruceaux's words felt real to her. This wasn't a show being put on for her benefit, and she knew it. His words were too filled with contradictions to be anything but the truth.

"What do you want of me then? Does this mean you want me to be your girlfriend? That this is about more than a night or two of passion? Is this a date?"

Damian frowned as the waiter came over. Damian let Naya order the tortellini, and then he ordered a heaping plate of lasagna. When the waiter left, his eyes smoldered. He looked at her with an unnerving level of intensity.

"I find the word 'girlfriend' unappetizing. You will be much more. I am offering to make you my mate, my submissive. I will be your Master, and you will be my Slave."

This terminology drew stark lines in Naya's mind and heart - both tantalizing and frightening. She had always harbored dark fantasies. Fantasies of being taken - sometimes by a pirate king, sometimes by a savage barbarian, she being the kidnapped princess. She knew these fantasies would probably seem silly to her friends, and many people would be horrified. But there were real to her. So very real.

"I have to admit…I've had fantasies."

"Of being a slave?"

Naya nodded, and the heat rushed to her cheeks. She realized that both of his hands had invaded her side of the table, gently grasping her wrists.

"How does this feel, Naya? What I'm doing right now?" Naya's breathing had quickened. She was sure he could see the rapid rise and fall of her breasts under the skintight fabric. The sweat along her brow had to be noticeable too. Her cleavage felt slick with sweat, and she wanted to curse her nerves for being so worthless.

Instead she said, "It makes me feel alive."

Damian's eyes gleamed with triumph. He slowly nodded. "You are a rare woman, Naya. I would like you to be mine, but I want you to know exactly what you are getting into. I don’t hold to the norms of society. Society is superficial and stagnant. I want you to feel alive, to be what you were truly meant to be - society's beliefs be damned. Men and women think differently. We ARE different. Society forgets that. You, the female, were made to be dominated by me, the male. I will ask you to do things you may not want to do. But secretly your femininity will beg to be commanded, to be ordered. I will love you and cherish you, but I will also make you MINE. I will push you to the limits, I will challenge you, and I will not be apologetic about it."

He paused, gauging her reaction. His hands still gently clasped her wrists. Even that tame level of his control over her sent her heartbeat racing. She found her mouth turning dry.

"Can you handle this? Can you abide such an arrangement? Because if you can't, there is no shame in standing up now and walking away. I won't try to stop you. But if you go forward from here, the rules change. I will not treat you with kid gloves. I will treat you as the slave you were meant to become."

Naya abruptly withdrew her hands, breaking his grip. She flashed him a wicked smile. "And just what are the rules, exactly? I need a timeframe, here, gallant billionaire or not. Some of us have day jobs…or in my case, classes to attend. Preferably ON TIME."

Damian Cruceaux tapped his fingers on the table and took a sip of the fine red as the waiter brought out plates of lasagna and tortellini, placing it before them. Once the man was out of earshot, Damian turned his smoldering stare on her again. "Give me the weekend. If you decide to stay with me after that, you'll quit your damn classes, take the $2 million I offered, and become my slave."

Naya took a gulp of her wine, swirling the beautiful red liquid in the fine crystal glass, watching and imagining it was blood. "And if I decide I'm not a submissive? If I decide the great Damian Cruceaux is not the man to tame me? What then?"

Damian shrugged. "Then you are free to go and I will pay you a year's salary - $200,000. Do we have an agreement?"

The dusky-skinned college student frowned. "By the arrangement in your ad, you said $2 million for just one night. Why would I agree to stay with you for two nights and forego all that easy money?"

But the billionaire returned her rational statement with a carefully impassive expression. "You tell me, girl. You are the one who said you were interested in something MORE than a one-night stand. That is what I now offer. So…what do you decide, Naya? What would my cute and sexy girlfriend choose?"

The 21-year-old blushed at the use of that word. Girlfriend. He said it like it was a dirty word. Like it implied acts she could barely conceive of. A thrill ran up her spine, and a warmth surged between her legs. Naya, be careful. Don't you remember Rebecca's words? She thought. There was another side, too, though, an inner Naya which screamed, This is it, girl. For once in your life do something that is true to who you are. Not the person you pretend to be around others. Not the sanitized Naya who always does what's respectable and what's 'right.' Do what's in your heart.

Naya sighed, and her lips opened to form three perfect words. "I'll do it."

CHAPTER 4

Naya thought she was prepared for what would happen next. I guess I was wrong, she realized not long after. The limo had come to pick them up, but this time it was a different driver who ushered them into the back seat. Inside, Naya was surprised to see Claire and Pierre sitting side by side on the plush leather cushions opposite them. Damian settled in gracefully beside her. His every movement had the easygoing limberness of a panther. He casually put an arm about her as the driver gunned the limo into the rain-soaked night.

For a while traffic seemed to slow everything to a crawl, but the aggressive driver eventually got them to the highway, and soon they were leaving the city behind altogether.

"Where are we headed?" Naya asked.

She noticed that Claire and Pierre were holding hands. Claire's face was almost glowing, as if she was amped up on speed.

"A small private airport I use every now and then. It's a bit of a drive. We've got some time," Damian said mildly.

He looked at Naya pointedly. His eyes bored into hers.

"Um. Can I help you?" she said. She gave an awkward smile, but his steely-eyed gaze gave away nothing.

"Strip."

"Excuse me?"

"Strip. Clothes off. Every shred. Now, Naya. I'm not asking."

Naya felt her body go cold. A moment later, though, heat flooded her veins. The thought of him seeing her completely naked tormented her, but it turned her on even more. She thought of the insanity of it, though. Just across from her sat a young woman and a man in a tuxedo. She looked over at the two of them, and her face must have shown her shock.

Claire's eyes had widened with some astonishment of her own, but she kept quiet. Pierre just looked impassively at Naya, his eyes neutral rather than judging.

"Right here?" Naya asked, making sure this was real. Damian nodded, and his hand made an imperious gesture. When she still hesitated, Damian turned to Pierre. The two men's unspoken exchange of looks revealed that they had a bond beyond the simple employer-employee relationship. Pierre nodded and turned to Claire.

"Claire, take off your clothes. Now."

Claire went very still. Her eyes flashed to meet his. For a second she didn't move, and then Naya watched, open-mouthed, as the young blonde slowly unbuttoned the back of her dress, slipped free of the soft satin, and shimmied free of the rest of it. She was now in only a bright crimson bra and panty. Next she unhooked the bra, letting the wisp of fabric fall to the floor. Claire slowly drew the panty down her luscious hips, sliding them gracefully off of her ankles. The heels came off then, and there was nothing but birthday suit. Just feminine beauty, naked and unvarnished.

The naked blonde sat beside Pierre, her supple breasts displayed for the other three people in the limousine to admire. The thatch of pubic hair enshrouding her sex seemed to promise a world of delights.

"Open your thighs a little wider, love." Claire obeyed, her legs opening a bit. They could now admire her sex, open and exposed. Her body was definitely flushed - whether from the embarrassment or sheer sexual arousal, Naya wasn't sure. Claire met Naya's eyes with a look of triumph, like a person does when they've just conquered a fear, and it gave Naya an incredible rush.

Before anything more could be done, Naya found her hands reaching backwards, unzipping the skintight dress. She managed to shrug out of the silk-trimmed fabric without too much trouble, finally letting it flop to the side as she sat beside Damian in only her pink lace-bra and pink panty. She sat there, looking at Claire's lush body. The blonde's pale skin and feminine curves were beautiful, simple as that.

There wasn't anything to be ashamed of, was there? Why should she be so reluctant to show her beauty to this man who promised she could be his? Why should she care that he wanted her beauty to be seen by others? She finally quieted all the wrestling, guilt-infested warnings in her mind and tried to take the final plunge. She reached backward, touching her bra strap. Her fingers froze.

"Does it help, Naya? Seeing your fellow slave naked before you? Does it give you courage? When you answer me, call me Master. You must do exactly as I say or you will be punished. Even though you failed to take off your clothes as I commanded, I know that you are new to this. I am not without feelings of mercy. But you must show me you are trying. Are you giving this your best effort, Naya?"

The brunette nodded, biting her lip. "Yes…Master. I…I can't though. I'm almost naked as it is. But in front of everyone? It's…it's not right."

"Society has taught you to be ashamed of your own body. Don't speak to me of what is 'right' or 'wrong' slave. You have been programmed, and I am trying to de-program the harmful things in your mind. Now do what I say. Take off what remains of your clothing. I would see the real you - a naked, pristine Naya, a slave of unrivaled beauty."

As he said the words, though, Damian gently did the work for her. He unclasped the bra strap, sliding the bra off to reveal her supple cones. He then slowly slid her panty down her legs, all the way to her ankles, and whisked them away. He gently disengaged the sandals, discarding them in the corner, and now Naya was just…Naya. Naked as the day of her birth. Her cute butt felt the cool leather underneath her. Her pussy felt the air on her exposed cunt lips. She felt a thrill of danger, of arousal, and it was all both confusing and mesmerizing.

Naya and Claire looked at each other's bodies. They were not the same, but neither was more or less beautiful than the other. They were just…different. Naya's dusky-toned skin was a shade darker than the creaminess of Claire's. Claire's breasts were maybe slightly larger, the nipples larger and more pronounced. Naya's smooth belly with its belly-button ring added an exotic allure beneath her well-formed breasts, and the muscular tone in her arms and legs was unmistakable.

"What do you think, Pierre? Are these slaves not gorgeous?" Damian said, his arm sliding around Naya's shoulders, hugging her nakedness to him as nonchalantly as if they were at a ballgame. Naya couldn't believe how sexually aware she felt. Every rub of his leg against her naked thigh…even through the fabric of his pants - sent sensations all the way to her loins. She had to consciously prevent her body from trembling with the build-up of arousal.

But her nipples were already hardened, a shameful giveaway for all to see. They didn't judge her for it, though. She waited for a condemnation that never came.

"They are both exquisite, Master. I can definitely call a spade a spade," Pierre said with a smile. He looked at Claire, his arm reaching around her shoulders in a similar possessive posture. He went a step further, though, claiming her mouth with a tender kiss. Claire moaned, her nipples beading too, and her nakedness trembled as his mouth worked hers, her tongue responding. At last they came away from each other, lips parting softly.

Claire's breathing was labored, and her breasts rose and fell with a gorgeous rhythm.

"Would you suck my cock, slave? Put your mouth on my manhood," Pierre said. Claire's eyes widened, but she unstrapped the black man's leather belt, slid it off of his waist, and greedily unzipped his slacks. Her graceful hands moved to slide down his pants and undergarments, letting a thick, long cock spring free.

Naya couldn't believe this was happening. She gaped even as she felt Damian deftly guide her onto his lap, cupping her breasts gently in his hands. "What do you see, Naya? Tell me. I want you to describe what you feel."

Naya's mouth had gone dry, dry as a desert, but she tried. She watched as Claire slowly began licking the underside of Pierre's black cock, starting at the base, then moving all the way to the tip. The sexy blonde then swirled her tongue against the tip, ripping a slow groan from the big man's throat.

"She's sucking his cock, Master. She's taking him in her mouth," Naya whispered. Her pussy felt warmth. Surging heat. She suddenly felt a suffocating heat despite the air-conditioning in the limo. Naya watched as Claire began to pump her mouth back and forth along Pierre's manhood. There was a gentle, suckling rhythm, its sound soon unmistakable in the background. Naya sat mesmerized as the young blonde slurped up and down Pierre's phallus. The big man gently gathered up the blonde's golden hair into two clenched fists, groaning more deeply as she went to work on him. Her face bobbed up and down, his cock encased between her lips.

"Look at me, slave. I want to see your eyes as my cock fills your mouth," Pierre ordered. Claire looked up even as her mouth cradled his shaft, her tongue caressing the length of his cock. She pumped her face back and forth, the suckling sounds intensifying until Pierre grasped her head and gently forced her all the way down onto his crotch. There was a spluttering, near-gurgling sound as the girl bottomed out on his pubic hair, her nose practically touching his crotch.

After several seconds, the big man finally let up. Claire came up for air, wheezing with strings of pre-cum drifting from her lips. She wiped them with her wrist and then began to lick the sides of his shaft, her hands tenderly pumping his manhood even as her tongue laved his cock-head as if it were a delicacy.

Naya sat there in disbelief, her loins wet with painful desire. This can't be happening. It can't, she told herself. It had to be a dream. Instead, though, the young woman felt the appalling touch of two fingers gently rubbing against her exposed clitoris. Damian's fingers. The man was tender but firm - and what began as gentle rubs soon became firm strokes, stoking a fiery need that coursed through the brunette's every vein.

"M-master…wh-what are you doing?" Naya gasped. Her breasts heaved as he tormented her with the delicious attack of touch. She unconsciously opened her legs wider, moaning as two fingers slid into her soft channel. She tried to keep her eyes focused on Claire slurping up and down that long, black cock. She watched as the cute blonde impaled her mouth on the shaft again, this time bottoming out on the dark slab until her gurgling was unmistakable. She came up for air, fresh strands of gooey cum drifting from her lips. These she gathered with her fingers, licking them clean as if they were a sugary treat.

"Good, slave. How does your Master's cum taste?" Pierre rumbled.

Claire was startled as the big man grasped her by the nape of the neck, leaning down to kiss her savagely. She groaned as the man's other hand reached behind her well-proportioned butt, inserting a finger into her exposed pussy. Claire's resulting moan made Naya's pussy nearly flood. Damian's fingers had been tormenting her this entire time, and seeing her fellow slave being fondled was almost too much.

"What are you feeling, Naya?" Suddenly the blessed fingers stopped moving, and disappointment tore through Naya's naked body. She thrummed with need, and her crotch had been unconsciously thrusting forward to meet the billionaire's touch.

"I…I feel heat, Master. Your fingers feel so good inside me. I need them there. Touching me. Please don't…don't stop," she confessed.

"You want more, you'll have to earn it Naya." Damian let the words hang, but Naya understood well enough. The raven-haired girl slid off of Damian's lap, un-belted his pants, slid them and his undergarment down to his legs. She paused a moment, admiring the full package in her care. His thick, vein-bulging cock was hard for her, so expectant. She imagined the feeling of need which must be surging through his whole body, the blood rushing to the length of his shaft.

She gently licked the tip of his cock, then plunged her mouth down on it. She felt the shaft straining inside her mouth. Her lips formed a tight 'O' around it as she pumped her mouth up and down, bobbing up and down his cock until she could hear his audible groans join those of Pierre.

This feeling of control she had over him, it made her feel incredibly alive. Incredibly sexy. She began pumping her mouth up and down with a feverish intensity. Time seemed to fall away, and her fingernails dug into Damian's naked thighs, gripping so hard as her mouth bottomed out on his phallus. Damian practically growled at her. "Keep sucking me, cute little cunt. Impale that sweet little mouth on my COCK. Yes!" Damian's voice had changed now. It sounded more like the barbarian beast she'd dreamed of in her fantasies than the respectable businessman he was.

Naya's jaw rippled as she continued to hug his shaft with her tongue, her teeth gently grazing his shaft as she came up off of him, cum dangling from her pretty lips. Before he could even recover though, the brunette had impaled her mouth again, squeezing the sides of his shaft with her tongue as she slurped like a selfless slave. Damian's groans reached a crescendo. He gasped, his hands grasping her by the shoulders and flinging her jaw backward off of his straining cock.

"Open your mouth, slave. OPEN!" he shouted. Naya's mouth opened as cum fountained through the air, spattering her breasts. Damian raised his manhood higher, the final series of spurts covering her face and mouth. When he was at last fully spent, Damian lifted her back onto his lap, but now she faced him and he seemed to enjoy the play of emotions across her face as his hands fondled her sex, tormenting her clitoris to new heights.

Naya's mouth opened in a wordless, agonized moan. She looked down at her cum-covered breasts and felt the sticky cum on her face, its pungent scent filling the limo. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the inferno in her core - that quickly building pool of desire so desperately needing release. She writhed on Damian's lap, humping his fingers desperately, grinding her hips with fervency. She didn't care anymore where she was - not even that she was in a limo on a highway, going who knew where with two other people behind her.

She focused on Damian's loving stare, his furiously tender touch. She felt his fingers cajole, batter and assault her clit in the most erotic touches she'd ever known. They squeezed, stroked, and caressed her even as Damian's index finger plunged into her sex, rubbing against the sides of her love channel, piling one sensation on top of the other until she could withhold it no more.

"What are you feeling, slave? TELL ME!" Damian ordered.

Naya's moans plateaued, and her body climaxed. "Oh yes, oh yes…oh god fuck me. Fuck me. I want you!" she squealed, her pussy clenching around his index finger as she came hard, her juices flooding his crotch. Naya's slender arms grappled against him, her fingernails clutching at his vest as she felt herself riding out the orgasm. Her naked, shuddering femininity finally came to a raggedly-breathing stillness. Naya's young face pressed against Damian's shoulder, her warm breaths panting against his neck.

She'd lost all sense of time and awareness. Claire and Pierre had simply faded away. It was some time before she turned around, shocked, and realized that Claire now sat on Pierre's lap, actively riding the big black man's cock. The blonde's sexy buttocks bounced up and down on Pierre's lap, the squelchy sounds of their sexes joining filling the room with a constant rhythm.

Naya blushed, but she also felt completely sated, content. She curled into Damian's arms, her head against his chest.

"We will be at the airport soon, slave. Now get some rest. I will have new challenges for you once we arrive." Naya tried to stay awake, but her eyes were heavy. The stars flitting by the limo's window seemed to lull her into unconsciousness. All she could think was that none of it was real.

Yet if that was true, then why had her body never felt so alive? She remembered his hand inside her soft heat and shivered. When she drifted off, she dreamed of him. Dreamed that she was naked on his lap, inserting his manhood between her pussy lips, impaling her damp heat and riding him, her breasts shaking as she pumped up and down a shaft so rigid and filled with need. Then she felt his heat fill her insides, her eyes snapping open as her back arched and she cried out. Then she awoke, her cheek firmly pressed against his chest, the airport terminal lights twinkling in the distance.

'Where is he taking us?' she wondered. The possibilities were enough to drive her mad.

CHAPTER 5

Naya was dismayed when she realized that her cum-covered face and breasts had made smears on Damian's once pristine tux.

"I'm sorry…Master. I did not mean to get you messy," she said lamely, her cheeks flushed. Damian gave her an indulgent smirk. He leaned in, kissing her sticky lips.

"Do not worry yourself, Naya. Time soon enough for me to be slipping into attire less constricting. We'll get you cleaned up on the plane. Are you thirsty?" Naya licked her dry lips and realized that she was. When she nodded, Damian retrieved a glass, used the dispenser which the limo was equipped with, and handed her a cold drink of water. She gulped it down greedily, thanked her Master and put it in the cup holder.

She looked at her surroundings - this perfectly ordinary limo - and couldn't believe she was here. Sitting naked next to billionaire Damian Cruceaux. Across from them Pierre lay sideways on the wide leather cushions, his arm wrapped around a naked Claire. Her breathing was even and deep, and so was his.

"They sleep well together, don't they?" Damian said, amused. "I knew they would be a good match."

Naya gave her Master a skeptical look. "Do you always gloat after a successful matchmaking? And isn't one quick fuck a little early to be crowing your success?" Naya realized that the cynical side of her had just come out without warning. She was horrified that she'd said the words, but Damian seemed to bring out the uncensored version of her, both the bad and the good.

Damian gave her a harsh stare. "Is that what you think this is all about? Then I see you have much to learn still, slave. Much." The limo came to a stop near the runway, and Naya could just see on the rain-scoured tarmac where a private jet waited, maybe a football field away. The rain had waned to a barely noticeable drizzle.

The billionaire leaned across to the other seat, nudging his companion awake. Pierre awoke with a start, snuffling like a boar before rubbing at his sleepy eyes and gently stirring Claire awake too.

"It is time, my friend. The plane is ready," Damian said. He leaned over Naya, opening the door. "What are you waiting for, Naya? You go first."

Naya gaped at the darkness before turning back to him. "I need my clothes and purse."

Damian shook his head. "Those will be brought along by Marcus, my other driver. You will accompany me to the plane just as you are."

The brunette looked down at her nakedness and couldn't believe what this man was asking her. It was one thing to be butt naked in a limo with just Damian's own employee friend and a fellow woman. To be walking out into the open - along a runway where just anyone could be watching. That would be awful. Would it, Naya? Would it really be so bad, your beautiful body walking naked, displayed proudly beside your Master? said a tiny voice in her head.

She looked at Damian one more time. His mouth was set in a firm line. He was serious. Dead serious. She looked over at Claire, who seemed to meet her gaze steadily as if to say 'I'm game if you are.'

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Naya slipped out of the limo and stood with her bare feet on the tarmac. The breeze ruffled her pubic hair, tickling the folds of her sex and caressing her nipples into cold-sharpened beads. She breathed in the fresh scent of rain and pine trees. The airport was secluded at least, and she was thankful for that.

Damian slid out and stood beside her, his hand gently rubbing her lower back. "What do you feel, Naya? Shame? Fear? Banish those emotions from your head. You are a beautiful woman. My gorgeous slave. I rule here, and you have nothing to fear. I own this airport. No one will dare judge you. Do you believe me?"

Naya turned to him, surprised by the concern in his face. Just moments before he had looked irritated, stung by her harsh words about Claire and Pierre. Now it was if she'd already been forgiven, and it made her heart ache just a little. She impulsively slipped her arms around his neck, standing up on her tiptoes to give him a long, lingering kiss. He tasted of raspberries for some reason, and her senses awakened, the rub of his vest along her breasts creating a pleasurable ripple up and down her core.

Suddenly two finely dressed male flight attendants, their blue vests looking almost black in the night, materialized in front of the limo. "Your baggage has already been provided for, Mr. Cruceaux. Can we help carry anything else?" Naya and Claire both froze, suddenly hyper-conscious of their nudity. Naya swallowed with difficulty, trying to keep the red from creeping onto her face.

"Please Master. Can't you give me something to wear?"

Damian glanced at her darkly. "You were showing such courage, Naya. Yet already your will falters and you let society's brainwashing creep back in. I see I may need to be a little firmer with you." He gestured at Pierre, who retrieved something from the front glove compartment of the limo. He handed Damian a bright pair of silver handcuffs, padded with leather. Naya gasped as Damian cuffed her wrists in front of her and then gently cupped the mound of her sex. Leaning in, he whispered to her.

"Now will you behave, Naya? I can add a collar and leash if you think to question my orders again."

Naya quickly shook her head, sighing as his hand gently conformed to the shape of her sexy buttocks, urging her forward.

Every footstep felt like torture to Naya. She felt like chattel being paraded before a victorious throng, even though the runway was virtually empty. A few airport personnel went about their duties, but in the darkness they hardly seemed to notice Damian or his entourage. Claire walked with noticeable nervousness, clearly uncomfortable in the same way as Naya, but she hid her fear better than the brunette. Pierre gestured her up the ramp first, followed her, and then Damian ushered Naya up the steps onto the plane.

The moment she set foot inside a rush of relief swept through her. She was given a seat beside Claire, and the two naked slaves were handed moist towelettes to wipe themselves with. Naya had some awkwardness, cleansing her face and breasts with the cuffs still on. When Damian saw that she was having a little trouble, he stopped her.

"Would you like me to help, slave?" The kindness in his eyes disarmed her even though she was furious at him. He had just handcuffed her and paraded her down the tarmac like a captured slave girl brought to ancient Rome, and now he had the gall to ask kindly if she needed his assistance? She gave him an irritable look, but quietly nodded. With deft strokes he wiped off the stickiness on her breasts, cheeks, and elsewhere on her face.

Then he gave her a beguiling, gentle kiss. "Be good. Pierre and I will be back soon."

Both men disappeared beyond the curtain which divided the lounge area of the plane from the front of the cabin. Naya didn't recognize the type of plane. She guessed it could seat 40-50 people comfortably. It was definitely used for business travel, and it was well stocked with beverages of all kinds - gin, whisky, rum, fruit juices, and wine. Naya turned to Claire, grateful for the rare moment of privacy.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she blurted, realizing how awkward she felt. Why did sitting naked next to someone change her ability to think or talk normally, even though Claire was just as naked? It didn't make sense, but the awkwardness was like a fog on all sides.

Claire smiled. "More than a little, Naya. I'm sorry you were so uncomfortable back there. I was just as uncomfortable…but I've tried to listen to what Pierre's been urging me to do. To not think so much. To just let myself feel. Let myself just…be me." She gave a soft laugh. "That probably sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"No. Not to me," Naya replied. She gave her new friend a little grin. "It looked to me like you were enjoying Pierre quite a bit 'more than a little.' I was a little distracted by Damian of course."

Claire nodded, an evil grin lighting up her pretty face. "Believe me, I noticed. I stole a few looks your way. You had Damian like putty in your hand." Sucking his cock, feeling the blood rushing through his manhood, my hands resting on the straining muscles of his legs as he barely holds back with the desire to buck his crotch upward into my warm mouth. Naya shook the memory away, but the thought already had her loins reawakening. She felt horny, damn it, and she hated Damian for reawakening all these sensations she couldn't seem to control.

The young blonde looked at her friend, gently patting her hand. "I think he adores you, you know. At first I was so pissed off, when Pierre told me that I was to be HIS date, and not Damian's. But after we sat down to dinner, we really hit it off. We talked for hours, and he actually opened up about himself. I felt this instant connection. Still do. I think you and Damian have the same thing."

Naya bit her lip, looking down at her lap. "I'm not so sure. I've already managed to say some stupid things tonight. I'm not as fearless as you, Claire. This whole…slave submissive lifestyle…I don't know. I just feel like I'm between two worlds, the liberated person I want to be and the person whose body I'm stuck in. I want to be Damian's, but I don't know how to be that with all these contrary feelings telling me that what we're doing is wrong." As Naya finished she looked up and a man in a black tie and business coat placed her purse just out of arm's reach.

The sexy brunette leaned over to awkwardly grab it with her cuffed hands, but suddenly Damian Cruceaux was there instead, towering above her. He laid a hand gently on her chest, pushing her backward, forcing her head against the headrest.

"What are you doing, slave?"

Naya looked at the purse again. Her smartphone, on vibrate, was ringing loud and clear, jostling against the other accessories in her purse. "I need to answer that. That'll be my roommate Rebecca. She's probably calling to check on me. I should answer, tell her I'm okay and that I won't be back tomorrow."

"Did I say you could have phone privileges, slave?" Damian's eyes peaked in interest. A suppressed grin couldn't hide the humor in his eyes, like a cat toying with a playmate.

"Please…Master." She'd almost forgotten to call him that. "Master, let me answer."

"Hmm. I'm not feeling terribly generous now, Naya, but I think I could be persuaded." He took her purse, walked over to a plush sofa across the aisle, and plopped onto it. Naya watched, her jaw going slack as Damian Cruceaux proceeded to strip out of his tux, dress pants, and polished black shoes. He was soon naked before her, his torso rippling with muscle that she'd suspected had been there from the moment she first saw his picture.

Naya felt her core flood with arousal as he lay back on the couch, his cock erect and taunting her. He fished the smartphone out of her purse and held it tantalizingly in the air. "I'll make you a deal, slave. Come here and mount me. Fuck me. Ride this cock. While I'm inside you, I'll dial her number and put the phone to your ear. You can tell your roommate that everything's fine then, that you'll be gone for the weekend. Agreed?"

The dark-haired college student thought things couldn't get any more outrageous. From the sound of the ad, she'd guessed that Damian Cruceaux might be unpredictable and a little dangerous. But this? This wasn't just outrageous. Appalling. Horrifying. Those words came to mind.

So why are your nipples hard, Naya? Why is your sex dripping? that tiny voice scolded her. She felt a thrum of arousal coiling from her cunt all the way through her chest and out to her fingertips, it seemed. She bit her lip, unsteadily got to her feet and walked across the aisle. Slowly, carefully, she straddled his naked form until his cock pressed gently against her abdomen. It was long, thick and ready for her…and it made her blood run hot.

"I…Master, please let me call. Then I'll fuck you. I promise." Why did the idea of talking to Rebecca while in such a compromising position terrify her? Naya's heart was racing like it wanted to break out of her ribcage. She sighed as one of Damian's hands cupped one of her breasts, squeezing just enough to intensify the sensation until it wrested a moan from her throat.

"Uuhhh. Please Master."

"You heard my offer, Naya. Take it or leave it. This will be the last chance to use your phone until the weekend is finished. You either call her now or not at all." Naya gave the billionaire a pleading look. She wondered how many other women had given him that same desperate pleading expression, and been refused any mercy in return. He gently pinched her left nipple between thumb and forefinger, and she hissed in shock at the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure.

"Tell me what you are feeling, slave. Why do you hesitate? What is it you are afraid of? Understand Naya, it is your fear holding you back. Not me." Those words seemed to penetrate her defenses, making her realize just how arbitrary her fear truly was. Why couldn't she talk to Rebecca now? What made making love to Damian, writhing on top of his cock, something to be quietly kept hidden like some shameful secret? The horny brunette licked her lips and clasped Damian's cock with her cuffed hands. Gingerly, she positioned his egg-shaped cock-head at the entrance to her sex, then eased herself down the first inch.

She gasped, biting her lip. His cock was still dry, but the liquid-warmth pooling between her legs would soon change that. She slowly rocked back and forth, her mind reverting back to the dream she'd had in the limo. She used the fantasy in her dream to stoke her desire, to fuel the wetness gathering between her legs. Slowly, bit by bit, as she rocked back and forth on his rigid phallus, more and more of it wedged its way deep.

Soon she was moaning, her sex lifting up and bouncing back down onto his shaft. Her wetness had coated him now, lubricating them both. Her hands gently kneaded his chest as she fucked herself, impaling her warm pussy on his cock.

"What do you feel, slave? Talk to me," Damian said, almost begging. She looked down at him, heat melting her eyes.

"I...I feel like I'm about to become yours, Master. I love the way you lie beneath me and let me set the pace. I love the way you feel…so deep inside me," she admitted, her voice turning to almost a soft purr as she moved her cute buttocks up and down, slurping up his cock between the seal of her cunt lips.

Claire was watching intently, her eyes glued to the scene. When Naya noticed her watching she ruthlessly thrust away that intrusive feeling of shame and instead plunged her damp heat harder onto her lover's cock, joining them as one.

"May I…may I call my roommate now, Master?" Naya begged. Damian had put the phone down on the pillow beside them, the better to gently pinch and torment Naya's young nipples and breasts. Reluctantly he pulled his hands away from the well-sculpted cones and retrieved the phone. He flipped through the phone.

"Passcode?"

"1507," she sighed, her sex moving upward, only to come crashing down to once more feel the fullness of his cock.

Damian keyed it in, went to the contacts list, dialed Rebecca. He held the phone to Naya's ear even as she rode his cock with tender, loving pumps. She sighed, biting her lip as the voice on the other end spoke up, edged with panic.

"Naya? Is that you? I've been worried sick! I heard from a friend, because when I mentioned what you were doing, she told me her SISTER had responded to that same ad! She said that Damian Cruceaux had a whole harem of women to choose from, that he picked two out of the crowd at a warehouse down by the docks district and just whisked them out of there. Where are you, Naya? I thought you'd be home by now."

Naya froze, sitting atop the billionaire's cock and unsure what to say.

"I'm...fine Rebecca." She stifled a moan as Damian nudged his cock upward into her sex. His challenging gaze told her to 'keep fucking.' This was part of the agreement. Slowly Naya resumed her cowgirl show, pumping her sex up and down Damian's well-lubricated shaft. The soft friction of his cock rubbing against her insides was heavenly, and she wanted to moan so badly but couldn't.

"Naya? Talk to me. Where are you? You don't sound fine."

That's because I'm better than fine, Becky. Or was she? She should have been terrified, Naya thought. She still didn't have a clue where Damian Cruceaux was taking her. All she knew was that she was being flown to gods knew where.

"Look, Rebecca…uh…I'm really OK. I was the one Damian picked. The other girl was needed for, for something else. He chose ME, Rebecca. He chose to spend the evening with me. After…uh…after dinner he offered me the chance to stay the whol