It's been a bad day at the office, but I don't even care.

I smile to myself as I cruise the familiar roads home. I can't wait to see my new pet.

Over the last three days, she's stayed at my apartment, but we haven't spoken much. I’ve decided to keep her guessing, keep her on her toes.

Sure, it will feel great when I finally take her virginity, but I also enjoy the anticipation. The nice thing about owning a virgin and waiting is I’d still have one—a virgin, I mean—for as long as I wait.

I love watching her try to figure me out, inevitably fail, and continue over analyzing my words and actions. It's just so fun to see how transparent she is, how much I can learn about her just from observing her.

Like when I quickly said yes to her counter-offer. Even over the phone, I could tell she was bewildered. When I saw her in my office, I knew it had been bugging her. She was probably wondering if she could've gotten even more from me, greedy little thing.

I don't mind, though. Money makes the world go round, it's true. She was a lot more anxious to agree to my terms—including my ridiculous choice of a safe word—because the stakes had been raised.

Besides, I’m used to it. Most people don't have enough money, while I have an abundance of it. It's only natural that they’d want money from me. My pretty little flower is not an exception.

I'm sure she's wondering what I’ll do today, like anybody would when put into the same situation. I’ve been trying something different with her every day.

On the first day, after she confirmed the deposit had gone into her bank account, she looked especially nervous. She sat on the couch in her room, frozen, acting like whatever was on TV was the most interesting thing in the world. She was wearing the same thing she did when she came to see me at the office: a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. If she thought those clothes would put me off, she was wrong.

I let her think it worked, though. The contract says she's supposed to wear whatever I tell her to, but I didn't have to enforce that right away. There was no rush; she was going to stay here for a whole month.

She was probably wondering why I wasn't doing anything to her when I’d paid her a fortune for the opportunity to do whatever I wanted. What she doesn’t seem to realize is, when you’re accustomed to the finer things in life, you stop worrying about value and focus on quality instead.

I know exactly what I want from her. I know it’s going to take some time to get there, and I’m okay with that.

So, on that first night, I peeked into her room, said hi, waited for her response, and left her alone for the rest of the night.

I bet she went to bed all anxious, thinking I could come in at any time to ravish her. When it didn't happen, she must've started wondering what was wrong, if I was still attracted to her, if she was going to drive me away with her sweat pants and lose the remaining $125,000 that she hadn't received yet.

On the second day, I came home and didn't say much, but I gave her a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates from the florist in the office building. That must've gotten her wondering about whether I was trying to romance her. I told her I was going to have supper and invited her to join me if she wanted to, but she never came.

On the third day—yesterday-—she did come to join me at supper, although I didn't invite her...or was it exactly because I didn't invite her?

I asked her to tell me stories about herself, about where she’d gone to school, what kind of jobs she’d had in the past, if she’d ever gone abroad. She told me everything enthusiastically, animatedly even.

She'd been quiet up until that moment. After days of isolation, she finally needed another human being to talk to. That human being was me. Another one of my little plans working as it should.

Tonight, I’m not even going to check her room when I come home. I had a business dinner before coming home, so I’m going straight to bed.

Let's see how she reacts to that.

* * *

This is working out better than I could've expected.

I’m on my way to get a document I left in my Mercedes, when I see Daisy standing alone in the dark kitchen.

Before she realizes I’m here, I creep behind her, making her jump. I touch the fabric of her loose shirt and keep going until my hand touches her narrow waist. I hold her tight with my hand on her belly.

I feel her muscles tense, her breathing erratic. I can even feel her heart beating quickly against my chest.

With someone else, I may mistake this for fear. But this is Daisy, and I can read her like a book. There's lust in her frantic heavy breathing.

When I press my hand into her belly, she gasps ever so slightly, a sharp intake of breath, an involuntary one. She shivers—another involuntary reaction. Even if just a little bit, she's losing control over her own body and giving up that control to me.

Her soft, warm little body feels delicious against me. She's so much smaller than me. It makes me want to protect the shit out of this delicate flower, but she has also struck that primal part of me that wants to drag her to my cave and plunge my hard cock into her.

I’ve always loved the feeling of gaining control over a beautiful woman's body. And this time, with Daisy, it feels more intense than ever.

I thought I’d lost this feeling forever. After that bad break-up with Trish, I couldn't find it again with another woman. Until now.

Daisy's body grows limp. She's leaning against me on her own now, having lost control over her legs. She loses her balance and I hold her tighter, snaking my hand up to rest on the valley between her tits. My palm feels every little palpitation of Daisy's heart.

She's letting herself be vulnerable. This is submission in its purest form, instinctive and natural. This is like breathing to her. This is the only way her body knows to react.

I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her. I saw the signs. I’ll show her how good it can be, make her virgin body do things she has never even imagined.

Gradually, her tough exterior will crack, and she’ll be mine. I’ll own her, not just the body she has signed away for one month, but also her mind, her thoughts, her desires. That's what domination is about.

She's not ready for me to fuck her yet, but that doesn't mean I can't show her a good time. I can tell she's primed for me to push her limits a little more.

With my free hand, I sweep her long, honey-brown hair over her left shoulder and plant a light kiss on the column of her neck. She shudders.

A small moan escapes her lips as my hand travels down her navel to grab her between her legs, hard. I knew she'd like it rough.

“That's a sexy little noise you’re making,” I whisper.

She's not the only one who's aroused; I’m fucking horny, too. I'm hard as stone, straining the fabric of my pants.

“You’re making me hard, kitten.” I press my growing bulge against her ass, letting her feel what she's doing to me, letting her feel the heat, the hardness, and the heft of my cock.

With the apartment as dark and quiet as it is, there's nothing else competing with me for her attention. Her world is my body all around her and the marble floor she's standing on.

She just needs the slightest stimulation, the lightest touch—my breath on her neck, my hard cock pressing against her ass. One of my hands feels up her tits through her thin cotton shirt, while the other one rubs her through the sweatpants.

Her breathing gets heavier, faster, more urgent. I can sense her disappointment turn into fear and excitement when I take my hand off her pussy, only to slide it down her pants.

“You’re wet. Just as I thought you’d be.” I place my lips right against her ear as my fingers slide back and forth between her legs, her folds slick with her own juices.

I kiss her neck as my fingers zero in on her clit. She gasps loudly and her body tenses in my arms. She starts to shudder. I pick up my pace and pressure and finish her.

She moans—a long, loud one this time. She's been stopping herself from letting any noise out, but she can no longer stifle herself. She has lost too much control over her body now to hold back. We're past the point of no return. I hold her in my arms, keeping her upright, as she shivers and gasps and clutches onto my arms.

“My dirty little flower,” I say.

Slowly, Daisy regains her balance. When she's strong enough to stand on her own, she pushes against my chest.

She avoids my gaze. When I catch a glimpse of her face, I see a tasty cocktail of surprise, satisfaction, and sheepishness. Her cheeks flush red, as much from the orgasm as from the embarrassment.

I let her go. For now. It won't be too long now until I give her a real freshly-fucked glow.