Naya's Journey

"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 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 you 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.