Tracy spent the weekend trying to decide what to do with this new information. She felt in her heart that the dream was a thought she had shared with Mr. Hayes, a real thing that he wished for. She now knew exactly what he wanted, what no woman had been able to deliver, but she was torn on what to do next. Should she compromise her ideals and sleep with Mr. Hayes in order to get ahead in life?

Technically, she served people what they wanted all the time in a restaurant. What was the difference between that and serving a man what he wanted sexually? Her pride was in the way, she knew.

Even more than that, she had doubts. What if her head injury caused her to have this vivid dream, and the feeling she got was just a hallucination? What if this was a real psychic link, but the real Mr. Hayes wouldn't give up control? Plenty of people had fantasies that they had no intention of ever carrying out, and this might be one of them.

No, she decided. He came in with a different girl every week because he wanted one of those girls to take initiative, to control him. Would she let herself be that girl?

She worked on Monday and picked up several hours of overtime, and came home exhausted. Tuesday morning's mail brought her medical bills, and she quickly did the math to see how many hours of overtime it would take to pay them back. She decided then and there that her pride wasn't worth that many hours.

* * *

Friday came, and Tracy was so nervous. Today was the first day in a long time that she was actually hopeful for the future. She was also a little ashamed that it had come to this, but it had to be done.

She put on her best make-up and a spray of perfume, something she hardly did for work, but tonight was a special occasion. She arrived early and made sure not to get any stains on her uniform. She would need all the help she could get, and a lack of confidence caused by a ketchup spot would ruin this whole plan. She deliberately didn't take her pain medication today so that she could have a couple confidence-boosting shots of alcohol before the man himself showed up.

At about the same time as usual, Mr. Hayes showed up. This time he had a buxom blonde with him, wearing a dress that showed off all that she had to offer. He was wearing his usual suit, and he smiled when he saw Tracy. Tracy smiled at the two of them and showed the two of them to their table. Mr. Hayes started to look over the wine list while his bimbo went to the bathroom.

"So," he started without looking up from the wine menu. "Have you thought over my offer?" It was clear from his body language that he expected another refusal.

"Yes, I have," she said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Here goes nothing. "If you truly want me, you'll get up and walk out of here with me right now."

He looked up at her, puzzled. Tracy's smile was steady, but it was being held by sheer force of will. He smiled a wry smile back at her. "That's pretty funny, sweetheart. If you didn't notice, I brought a date with me. But, if you're interested, maybe the three of us-"

She cut him off. "If you want me, ever, you'll leave this woman at the restaurant and walk out the door with me. This is a one-time offer."

For a moment, he seemed taken aback. He was a billionaire, and clearly not used to being talked to this way. There was a flicker in his eyes. She could tell that, for a moment, he almost came back with an angry response. Tracy almost lost her nerve right then.

But then, he took a look down her body, nodded his head and stood up without a word. As they quickly walked to the exit, he put his strong hand on her back, guiding her past the line of people at the door. The sensation sent a tingle down her spine, and she knew that this was going to be an experience she'd never forget.

Luckily, thought Tracy as they stepped into the warm summer evening, the only employee who saw us leave was the doorman. When the bimbo came back from the bathroom, and when her manager found out she had walked out on a Friday before her shift ended, there would be hell to pay. This was going to be worth it, though.

When they got to the black sedan, Mr. Hayes opened the back door. He just stood there, waiting for her to go in. Tracy peered inside and saw no driver in the car. He thinks he's just going to fuck me in his car, then go back to his date, she thought. She managed not to lose her temper. Instead, she said, "Wait until we get home."

For a moment, his expression wavered. Tracy realized she hadn't been as forceful as she had been in the restaurant. "Am I wasting my time?" Tracy asked, her heart fluttering.

Mr. Hayes' eyes went wide. "No, definitely not. I just thought you might have wanted to go back to work tonight."

Tracy shrugged her shoulders and stood there. Mr. Hayes nodded and closed the back door. He opened the front passenger door for her and got in the driver's seat himself.

"I would have thought a guy like you would have had a chauffeur," she said.

"No, I prefer driving myself. I like to drive and I hate to be the passenger," he said. It told her all she needed to know. He had to be in control because no one else would do it right. The dream was a psychic link, of that there could be almost no doubt.

That didn't fix her nerves completely, but it did help.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, he put his hand on her knee. It practically sent an electric shock through her body, as his powerful hand began to massage her leg. He wasn't going to get much of a feel through the pants of her waitress outfit, but she ought to set the record straight right away.

"Mr. Hayes..." she started.

"Please, call me Paul."

"Mr. Hayes," she said again. "I know what it is you want."

"I think we both have a pretty good idea of what, or who, I want," he said. He took his eyes off the road, looking her body up and down again.

The way he said it gave her pause. I could have sex with him right here in the parking lot, just for my own enjoyment, she thought. She quickly shook that thought away. She was a woman on a mission, and no sweet talker could dissuade her from it. As he pulled out of the restaurant, his hand strayed up her blouse, toward her breast, and she caught it and held it there against her body.

"I know what it is you want," she repeated. "But what's more important is what I want."

"Is that right?" he asked, almost a little mockingly. "I think you want the same thing I want, anyway."

Tracy knew she couldn't let his sexy confidence, his ego, his cockiness rattle her. She had to remain in control of her libido, as hard as it was. "Maybe, maybe not. I guess we'll have to see when we get to your house," she teased. She pushed his hand away,. Keep yourself under control, girl. You’ve got to pull this off.

* * *

When she first saw his mansion, she almost whistled. It was at least twice as big as she would have guessed, and was located right on the beach. It had to be a ten million dollar house. He parked the car in the garage, and they went inside.

The butler was waiting for him. So, I guess he does have some people that do things for him, she thought. He didn't seem too surprised to see Mr. Hayes with a different woman than the one he left with, but he probably saw a lot of that while working here. He said a quick greeting and then disappeared.

Paul and Tracy went upstairs. The bedroom was at the end of a long hallway, and Tracy made sure to remember how to get back out the main door.

When he opened the door to the bedroom, she had her confirmation that their connection was no hallucination. It was, more or less, the same bedroom as the one in the dream. The big bed was definitely the same, and the giant brass headboard. Every detail looked like she remembered.

Once inside the bedroom, Mr. Hayes turned to Tracy. He wastes no time, she thought. She knew she had to give him something, so she let him take her in his arms. He kissed her, and she kissed back hungrily, feeling the lust grow within her.

They made out for about a minute, while her brain went crazy with desire. Both the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder were giving her mixed signals, at times telling her to give in, at others telling her to flee with her dignity intact. Finally, her brain overrode her clitoris, and she pulled away from him. She stepped away from him, and he looked her up and down.

"Get on the bed and take off your clothes. I have a little show for you," she said.

"I've got a better idea," he started as he walked towards her. He put his hands back around her waist. "I’ve got a bottle of wine just waiting to be uncorked. Why don't we-"

She cut him off. She made her voice as stern as she could manage. "Mr. Hayes, remember what I said. It's more important for me to get what I want. Get on the bed. You'll enjoy the show, I promise."

He looked the same as he had in the restaurant, like he had never had a woman resist his advances for even one moment. But, again, he smiled wryly and backed away. He took off his coat and tie, kicked his shoes off, and laid on the bed.

Tracy went to a nearby closet and quickly found what she was looking for – two black ties. She smiled at him. "Put your hands up," she said.

"Oh, you must have seen Fifty Shades already. That movie made everyone a little wildcat. Don't worry, I can get into whatever kinky stuff you've got planned," he said. He sounded confident, but Tracy could definitely detect a slight amount of discomfort in his voice. He was clearly unsure of where this was going, but he was definitely not used to giving up his control.

Tracy had looked up a lot of different knots this week, and she knew the best one to keep him completely fastened to the bed without cutting off circulation to his hands. When she finished, she smiled.

She slipped her shoes off and turned around. She slowly walked away from him, unbuttoning the dress shirt to her waitress outfit. Underneath it was the black lingerie she had carefully put on underneath. She checked herself one last time, wanting to make sure it looked completely perfect before she turned around for him to see it. It looked good, so she took the shirt off, turning around.

His eyes dilated as he saw the corset top, and he smiled as she began to undo her pants. She slowly worked them down, showing her black thong, garter belt, and stockings hiding underneath. This set of underwear had maxed out her last credit card with any money left on it, but by this point she was sure she had made the right choice. Her body filled out the lingerie in all the right ways, and she was sure she looked better in it than that skinny blonde bimbo at the restaurant would have.

She smiled, and did a little turn. "Do you like what you see?" she asked.

"Yeah! Come on over here and I'll show you," he said. All sounds of apprehension had left, and he was back to being the confident billionaire.

She smiled, and she knew it'd be her last smile for a few minutes. Again, she took a deep breath, then let it out, knowing there was no going back after this. "Really? Because I don't like what I see."

He frowned. "Oh, come on, you look great! I hate it when hot girls demean themselves. Now, come on over here."

She laughed, a fake laugh, almost cruel. "Oh, not me! I look great!" Tracy rubbed her hands down her body, accentuating her curves. "I was talking about you. I don't like what I see in you."

His smile vanished. "What?"

Tracy steeled herself. It was almost as if someone else was speaking through her body now. "Right now, I'm looking at something that disgusts me."

He looked shocked, and began to struggle against his bonds a little. "Hey, if this your idea of foreplay, then you're pretty weird."

She ignored him. "What I see is a helpless billionaire, tied to a bed, not in control at all. Just like he's a helpless billionaire, tied to a company, not in control at all."

He struggled more. "Look, Tracy, I think we've had a misunderstanding. Untie me and I'll take you back home. We'll forget this ever happened."

She felt like she might be losing control of the situation. She got to the foot of the bed, and touched his foot lightly. He relaxed a little bit.

"I think I know what you want, but I want to hear it from you," she said.

He looked flabbergasted. "What do you think I want? Why do you think I brought you to my bedroom?"

She got up on the bed, moving her hands up his legs. "What do you want?" she asked again.

He blinked, as if he couldn't believe he was being asked the question. "I want to fuck you, Tracy." He started to sound a little frantic.

She frowned and grabbed his legs hard. "You want to please me?"

He smiled and looked up at the ceiling, thinking that he finally caught on to the game. "Yes!" he said, sighing as he did so. He was starting to get worked up, unsure if he was about to be robbed, murdered, or have fantastic sex. "Yes, Tracy. Oh my god, yes, I could eat your pussy for days. I just want to please you."

"Really? Because I don't think you can please me," she said.

He got real quiet. Something inside of him had stirred, maybe déjà vu. He remembered the dream, she could tell. Suddenly the bulge in his pants grew in size, turned on by this woman in charge of him.

"That's right. I've known what you wanted all along," she said, and unzipped his pants. He moaned a little as his cock sprang free from his pants. His cock was long and thick, and Tracy was sure that he was used to giving women the ride of their lives. It explained quite a bit of his confidence, she thought. She began to get wet just thinking about lowering herself onto that beautiful cock, but she forced herself to snap out of it.

"What do you want?" she asked again.

That cocky grin was back. "I want to please you," he said. His voice was very serious.

"You'll never please me," she said, surprised that she had managed to get that line out as confidently as she had. The grin once again faded from Mr. Hayes' face. She grabbed onto his cock, holding it like she had in the dream. She didn't squeeze quite as hard as Dream Tracy had, but she was firm. He began to thrust into her hand, but she didn't do anything resembling a hand job to him.

"What do you want?" she asked once more.

"Oh God, Tracy, I want to fuck you. I want to please you. I'll do anything. Tell me what it is and I'll do it. Just let me do it."

She let go of his dick, and climbed on top of him, straddling him. His cock thrust in the air, questing, trying to get to her still clothed pussy. A few times, it brushed against her panties, and she wanted to gasp, but she knew she had to remain in control. With her hands on his chest, she said, "That's not what you want. I know what you want, and it's not for you to take over from here." She paused for effect, then asked him the question again. "What do you want?"

"I want you to take control," he said, shifting back and forth. His dick felt ready to explode, so hard behind her pussy and ass.

"You want me to take control of... what?" she said, leading him to what she wanted him to say, what she knew he wanted to say.

"I want you to take control of me!" he yelled.

"Good," she said, her pussy leaning up against his cock now. Only that last little bit of fabric was stopping him. She could have sex with him now, get plowed for her own release, and it might still fit with her plan. No...

She got up. He writhed on the bed, half in ecstasy, half in agony. She walked over to where she had taken off her waitress pants and pulled a paper out of the pocket.

"You said the other day that you could help me with my medical bills," she said, completely business-like.

He looked shocked. "You want to talk about this now!? Trust me, we can take care of this later."

She ignored him. "You mentioned some friends with the Chamber of Commerce, and other doctor friends. I don't care how you take care of this. I don't care if you pay it out of pocket, but you're going to take care of it."

He smiled, an uneasy smile. "Yes, yes, the bill will be paid. If that's what you want, if that's your price, you've got it. Money is no object. Now, can you come back into bed?"

She continued, "When this is taken care of, you'll come to the restaurant again. Then..." she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, like she was getting turned on. "Well, then you'll see how I treat people who begin to please me."

He was in shock. "I'll call them right now, just untie me. Please!"

"One last thing," she said. "If you ever..." She paused again, and took a deep breath in. "EVER want some of this, you won't make me ask twice." She set the paper down on the foot of the bed, and walked back to her clothes.

"What are you doing? Untie me! Please!" he cried out. She ignored him and got dressed. All the time, he cried out and thrashed against his bonds. "Please! I want you to take control of me! I'll give you anything you want! I'll give you the cash right now for that medical bill." That last one was tempting, but she felt like he could still fuck her, physically and financially, if she gave him what he wanted right now.

When she was dressed, she walked back to the foot of the bed. Her eyes fixated on his dick, and she touched her pussy through her pants. "I am so wet just thinking about how our next encounter is going to go, and how you're going to please me."

Her eyes wandered up to his chest, to his face, and their eyes locked. As had happened last week, a blinding light seemed to come from behind her eyes, and once again she was dizzy. This time, she managed to turn the wince into what looked like a pleasurable hiss. She knew she'd be sharing his dreams again tonight.

She turned and walked away from him. "I'll let the butler know about your situation on my way out." As she left the room, she heard him yelling at her, begging her to come back. She never turned back.

The butler was still awake, sitting at the dining room table and reading a newspaper. He was clearly used to having to drive women home after their late-night trysts with the master of the house, and she smiled and asked him for a ride. She had him drop her off at the house of a friend who didn't live anywhere near her, in case he decided to track her down.

A couple of blocks away from the end of the trip, she started to tell the butler about how Mr. Hayes was still tied up on the bed. He laughed and thanked her for telling him, and said he'd take care of it. Tracy's friend was glad to take her in for the evening. As Tracy settled into the couch, she reflected on the evening. She was exhausted, but she knew that she was going to have at least one good dream...

* * *

Again, her dreams were full of sex. The dreams were much more explicit this time, though far more varied. It would start with a fantasy, perhaps the two of them on the beach, or on a ship. She'd be feeling his chest, enjoying the muscles of his abs, and then another dream would snap into focus. It was always clear when her dreams ended and his began. He had several dreams about her, and they were all much more wild, more animal than they were the other night.

She would start out in charge, keeping him on edge while he was tied up, but he would always get free. Then, he would take over completely, dominating her. She hesitated to call it her own rape, since it was clear she was enjoying it, but she resisted every time. Tracy woke up after every one of them, moaning and writhing, wet as she had ever been. She masturbated a couple times that evening, quietly to avoid waking her friend, but every time she fell back asleep, there was Mr. Hayes, fucking her brains out once again...