Rock Star Billionaire

I spent the rest of the afternoon calling back the agents and marketing directors who had called me, hearing their offers and making appointments with the ones that sounded the most appealing. My schedule for the week had never been so full. By the time I finished the last call, I felt exhausted but exhilarated. I couldn't wait to tell Ethan about it. I glanced at my clock and was startled to see it was already time for our date.

I dug through my closet and found the new lingerie I had bought as a surprise for Mick, but never wore. It would the perfect outfit for tonight. The black, silk, corseted top had a sweetheart bust line that maximized my cleavage and laced down the back for a sexy look. The matching black silk panties were a high-waisted thong that showed off my round buttocks and long legs. The black, thigh-high stockings attached with a garter belt to the corseted top, like an old-fashioned harlot's, and a pair of black stiletto heels completed the look. The outfit was deliciously naughty, and I slipped on a sweet, little pink cotton dress on top of it for a deceptively innocent outer shell. Ethan was sure to love it, and I was already feeling aroused just thinking about his reaction.

When I got to his mansion, he opened the front door himself.

"I gave all the maids and servants the night off," he explained with a sexy grin. He looked fantastic in a dark-blue suit with a pale-blue tie. I thought about what he had done with the last tie he had, and my pussy began to quiver with anticipation.

"Have a seat. Dinner is ready." He showed me to the dining room where the table had been intimately set for two, with fine china, crystal wine glasses, and a bottle of expensive Merlot chilling in a bucket of ice nearby.

We dined on delicious cuisine, prepared by his private, French chef. We started with an appetizer of brie cheese crepes with béchamel sauce graniteed, followed by spinach salad with champagne vinaigrette.

The main course was a mouthwatering filet mignon with a rich brandy crème sauce, and for desert, chocolate mousse. We sat for hours as we ate and talked and laughed and drank.

Ethan listened avidly as I told him about all the phone calls I'd had that day. He didn't give me unsolicited advice or try to bully me into taking the modeling jobs he wanted me to do like Mick would have done. He just listened and gave me his unconditional support. It felt good to finally get that from a man, and I realized in that moment just how much I'd been craving that all my life.

"I can't believe I've been hogging the conversation this entire night. Tell me about your day? How was the office?" I blushed, realizing we'd done nothing but talk about me for hours.

"I don't want to talk about business. I do that all day at work. I want to talk about something else," he said, and his voice suddenly became thicker. The way he was looking at me so lustfully let me know exactly what he had in mind, but I felt like being playful.

"What if I want to talk about work? Tell me about your day, Ethan," I said with an intentionally petulant pout.

"I just told you I didn't want to talk about that. Are you being bratty?" His eyes sparked with delight, even as he glowered at me in mock anger.

"I can be a brat if I want to," I taunted and tossed a green bean from my plate across the table at him.

With amazing reflexes, he leapt up and yanked me out of my chair. He grabbed my dress and ripped it off my body with his strong hands, tearing the thin, cotton fabric

like it wasn't even there. As I stood before him, trembling in nothing but the sexy, black lingerie, I enjoyed watching his eyes dilate as he looked me up and down, and I felt a distinctive bulge within his slacks press against my thigh.

"You are a naughty girl, aren't you?" he said with an appreciative growl. He pushed the contents of the dining table onto the floor with one swipe of his arm, causing the dishes to fall to floor with a noisy crash. Glaring at me, he said, "Now, I'm going to teach you how to be good and not such a brat. Bend over the top of this table and spread your legs wide."

I did as I'd been told, laying my torso flat against the top of the table with my ass sticking up in the air, and my thighs spread wide. Using the cloth napkins from the table, Ethan bound my ankles to the legs of the table, forcing me to keep them that way. Then, he tore my cotton dress into long strips which he used to bind my wrists stretched out in front of me to the legs on the other side of the table, forcing me to stay bent over, with my breasts pressed flat against the hard, wooden surface.

"Now, naught girl, I'm going to teach you what happens to brats." He sounded threatening, but I wasn't afraid. Indeed, my entire body was quivering with delight as I excitedly waited to discover what pleasures he had in store for me. Was he going to spank me like he did in the hotel or whip me with flogger like he did in the bedroom? The answer surprised me.

Ethan left the room, and when he returned, he was carrying a long, black, leather whip. The sight of it sent chills down my spine and I shuddered, but my pussy grew slick with the juices of my arousal.

He cracked it in the air, and the sound of it was fearfully loud. Then, he coiled it around his hand and rubbed the leather braid against the bare skin of my upper thigh where my stockings didn't cover them and up around my naked butt cheeks. He pushed my thong aside and found my lips were wet and ready, and he gently massaged me there, making me moan with pleasure. Then, he inserted the handle of the whip inside my slippery slot, fucking me with it there.

I strained within my bonds as my pleasure grew, and the sound of my panting and moaning echoed off the dining room walls.

"I'm going to come," I gasped as I felt my orgasm drawing near, and that's when Ethan suddenly and cruelly withdrew the handle, abruptly ceasing the stimulation moments before I could climax.

"No, naughty girl. Only good girls get to orgasm," he snarled, and I realized then what my punishment would be.

He stepped back away from me then, unfurled the whip and gave me a few light flicks with it on the fleshy part of my thighs and buttocks. It stung painfully, and I yelped out with every smack of the leather on my delicate flesh; but he was an expert, and knew just how to wield the weapon without breaking the skin or causing me serious harm. The pain was more emotional than anything: humiliating me like a small child being beaten by a disapproving father.

After just a few strikes with the whip, he returned to my side to fondle my pussy with his fingers. I was even wetter than before and he fucked me this his fingers, delighting in the feel of me.

Soon, I was panting and gasping with pleasure again, but once again, he denied me the ecstasy of orgasm and stopped just short of letting me climax. He drew back, and whipped me again, using careful strokes of the whip on my butt cheeks while I struggled and cried out in pain.

When he returned to me a third time, he entered me with his cock. It felt like heaven, and I prayed that this time he would fuck me until we both came.

"Please let me come on your cock. I'll be a good girl, I promise. Please just let me come on your cock," I begged pathetically.

"You've learned your lesson not to defy me or be bratty?" Ethan asked sternly as he stroked inside me with deep, powerful thrusts of his mighty dick.

"Yes, I've learned my lesson. I'll always obey your every word," I vowed.