The Ivy League

“You will speak only
when told to do so,” the young man behind the heavy oak desk said. His voice was a steady baritone that shook through Sara.  He had still not looked up at her, not even once, since she had entered his office.  “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Sara
said, her voice shaky and quiet.  She couldn’t believe she was doing this.  Her heart was lodged firmly in her throat, but she had made her decision and she couldn’t back out now. 

“Good,” the man
said, finally looking up at her.  His smoky grey eyes caught her off guard as they perused her body, a smirk forming on his lips as they did.  “Then I will use this as an opportunity to teach you a lesson.”

He stood up, unhooking
the cufflinks on his white collared shirt as he walked around the desk.  The air thickened as he came closer.  She swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat. His presence was suffocating.  He rolled his sleeves up, slow and casual, the simple gesture inexplicably making Sara even more uncomfortable.

“You have disobeyed me,” he said,
his deep voice dropping to a low whisper.  He linked his forefinger under her chin and raising her eyes to his.  “I told you not to speak.”

“I’m sorry,” she said
, batting wide green eyes innocently at him.  “I didn’t realize we were starting.”

Sara
instantly wanted to smack herself on the forehead. She wanted to seem professional, even if this was her first time.

“I will let it slide
this time,” he said, fighting the urge to smile.  Mistress Gwen told him he would enjoy this girl, but he had not expected her to be this good. It was so incredibly erotic to see such an innocent creature doing something so depraved and sordid. He turned away from her, walking across the expanse of his corner office “Do not disobey me again.”

She swallowed
, trying to dislodge the perpetual lump in her throat, and gave the man a small nod to let him know she understood.. 

It was not a
normal practice to meet the clients anywhere but agency specified hotels, or so she had been told.  But this was such an illustrious client that exceptions were made.  The beautiful night view of the city through the floor to ceiling windows went completely unappreciated as Sara fought to keep her composure.  She just kept telling herself that after this one night, she would never have to do this again.

The man
grabbed a glass from the top shelf of the wet bar, filling it with a honey colored liquid.  He turned to her, raising his glass in a silent offer that was rejected by a single nervous headshake.  He enjoyed a sip, swirling the liquid in the glass as he savored the taste of it on his tongue.

Sara
was mildly afraid of passing out as she tried to calm the wild flutter of her heart.  At the same time, she found relief at meeting this client.  He was young and handsome.  Tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair that sat in a pile of loose curls gelled back on his head.  His grey eyes were framed with thick black eyebrows and a chiseled jaw.  He exuded masculinity in his every cell.  His motions were casual and practiced, but powerful in even the simplest gesture. Her stomach pulsed with desire.  She had never felt this way before.  Maybe because she had never met anyone like him before.

“Sit,” he said, turning back around to her.  The only light
in the office was the night-lights of the city, casting everything in shadows.  Sara spied the closest chair and made her way to it.

“Not there,” he said, a smirk
forming on his thick lips.  He was already enjoying this girl immensely.  The simple innocence she exuded was perfect.  He had been through many of Madam Gwen’s girls looking for one like this.  He licked his lips in anticipation of the night to come. 

“Where…” she began to speak
as she stood from the chair, her words stopping short when she realized she had violated his rule. 

He made
a tsk sound as he stalked closer to her, his eyes locking with hers.  They were far too intense for her to hold, and she looked away from him.  She was afraid to find out what his punishment would be for her.  Clients weren’t allowed to physically harm them, of course, but it’s not like she could squeal to the police if he did.  Her heart thumped in heavy beats, and she realized she was holding her breath.  She released it in a heavy sigh, wondering how she had gotten into this mess.  Her friend had only told her such a little bit about this job, really just the basics of what she was getting into.  She said Madam Gwen would explain things, but she hadn’t.  The Madam simply handed her a piece of paper with an address and a sum written on it.  The sum was so large that at the time Sara was too dazzled to ask any questions.  Now she seriously wished she had.  The man’s slow, methodical steps stopped next to one of the leather couches that made up a seating arrangement in the absurdly large office. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, savoring another sip of his whiskey.
“You may speak to answer.”

“My name,” she said, her eyes scanning the floor to avoid looking at him as she tried to
think of a fake name.  “Um…Scarlett.”

It was so obvious she was lying he wanted to laugh.  He knew none of the girls ever gave their real name, but they at least made it sound convincing. 

“What’s your real name?” he said, sitting down on the couch and setting his glass on the table beside it.  His arm remained casually slung over the arm of the couch, his legs crossing as he leaned back. 

“You may speak again to answer,” he said,
after a short silence. He could see the thought and panic on her face.  She was terribly easy to read, and so far, worth every penny of the massive amount he paid for her. 

“I thought,” she said, her eyes darting up to take a quick peak at him before looking back at the floor, “that’s not…”

“Right,” he said, a smirk cracking his lips again.  “The rules  I’m sure you realize they don’t apply to someone like me.  Tell me your name.”

Sara
hesitated to answer him.  She didn’t really see the harm in telling him, but she knew it was against the rules.  And the rules were the rules for a reason.  She was so out of place doing this that she didn’t really want to make a big mistake she would hate herself for later. 

“Very we
ll,” he said, his voice turning sharp and cold.  He stood from the couch and walked briskly over to his desk.  “If you cannot obey me, then you will leave.  Without payment.”

He was hoping she would take his bait.  The money always got them.  He was rewarded when she looked up at him, her green eyes shining with fear. 

“Its…” she shook her head, looking away from him.  She couldn’t hold his intense gaze as he stared back at her.  “Sara.”

How fitting, he thought.  Now that was indeed a real name.  He was in fact surprised that she hadn’t tried to simply give him another fake name.  He would have been satisfied with that.  He didn’t really want to know her real name,
only wanted to make her squirm before he had his way with her.

He watched her for a moment, the silence hanging around them.  The girl continued to hide her eyes from him, looking everywhere in the office but at him.  He was a man with a particular appetite when it came to women.  He enjoyed the innocence that inevitably disappeared with experience.  His problem in finding such a girl was he was too busy to invest the time a relationship with such a girl would take.  Taking over his father’s company after his untimely death had left him with very little free time.  So he paid a Madame to play out his desires.

Sa
ra’s heart continued to pound against her ribcage.  She could see the client out of the periphery of her steady gaze on the floor.  She didn’t dare look up at him for fear that she would completely loose her nerve.  Somewhere in the haze that clouded her brain, the thought that this was somehow so inherently wrong rolled around.  But she was never much of a romantic, and from everything she had heard, the first time was not such a great experience.  It made sense to her that she could instead use it to help her, in the form of a large cash payment.  Some called it prostitution, she preferred the term pragmatic. 

He opened a
small refrigerator under the counter of the wet bar and pulled out a bowl of strawberries.  He liked to woo his prey before he had his way with them.  He found it helped them to open up, to relax into the fantasy. 

“Sit,” he said again as he turned the
faucet on.  “On the couch.”

He ran each strawberry under the
stream of cold water as he watched her shuffle quietly over to the couch and sit down.  He took a moment to appreciate the outfit she had chosen.  A floral print sundress that hugged her slight curves perfectly.  His eyes followed the swell and curves of her bottom.   It was absolutely perfect.  Not too large, with the perfect level of dip at the end.  His fingers itched to wrap around it.  Soon he would allow himself such a pleasure, but for now he was going to toy with her just a bit more.

“Have a strawberry,” he said, setting the freshly washed bowl on the table beside the girl.  She glanced up at him for a moment before reaching out for the fruit.

“Not that one,” he said.  She jerked her hand back, her eyes shooting back up at him in question. 

“This one,” he said, picking a strawberry from the bowl, his eyes locked on her as he sat beside her.  He lifted the fruit to her lips.  She hesitated for a moment, her
eyes still not meeting his.  Her lips parted ever so slightly before he crammed the tip of the strawberry past.  She took the bite.  It was positively the most delicious strawberry she had ever eaten.  It was just the right amount of sweet, with a soft but still slightly chewy texture.  A droplet of sticky red juice trickled down her chin as he pulled the fruit away. 

Before Sarah had time to react, he leaned forward, his tongue trailing out slightly and licking up the drop of juice, ending in a kiss just at the corner of her lips.  He pulled back to look at her with hooded eyes.  Her heart had lodged itself in her throat and her abdomen pounded with a strange heat she had never felt before.
  She could smell the lingering whiskey on his lips, the fragrance mixing with the taste of the strawberry.

“Delicious, aren’t they?” he said, his voice
thick with lust. 

Sara swallowed t
he lump of fruit, trying to shuffle her thoughts to produce answer.  She hesitated, her mind too foggy to utter a simple ‘yes’.  His perfectly groomed eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, a sign that he was waiting for an answer.  She finally managed a single nod in the affirmative, her eyes focusing on the floor, as she tried to calm her rapidly fraying nerves.  She had never met anyone that made her feel this way before. 

He brought the
remainder of the ruby fruit to his lips, taking a bite as he watched her with what she was sure was dastardly thoughts.  His eyes were calculating, as his lips curled into a devilish smirk.  Sara didn’t know his name.  She didn’t know anything about him.  But she was about to lose her virginity to him for a very hefty price
.

“
Don’t be so shy, Sara,” he said, his voice taunting her as he ran a finger down her bare arm.  A wave of goose bumps rose in the wake of his finger.

“I’m not
…” Sara began to defend herself, but her words stopped short when she remembered the rules.  She wanted to slap herself for the slip up.  There was a twinkle in his eye that led her to believe that he had been waiting for that.  A chance to punish her.

“Ah,” he said, as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, studying
the curve of her neck as if in a trance.  “Sara, I’m disappointed.  That was too easy.”

He
r punishment had already been rolling around his mind.  Nothing too harsh.  He wanted to ease her into things.  Just because he liked to dominate didn’t mean he didn’t care about his partners pleasure, even if he was buying her affections.