ROSA

 

I had never felt so alive. It was an utterly unexpected feeling, like someone had cut a hole in the ice and I’d plunged into the water underneath, coming up freezing but with every nerve ending awake.

The tension I felt in the cafe had been nothing compared to the pride I’d felt in following his instructions, overcoming my fear, mastering the anxiety that had threatened to swamp me when I first walked in there.

I’d had no idea what he had planned for me. I woke up to find him in my room and before I could articulate the start of a question about the previous night, he was giving me orders, the first of which was that I could not speak.

That made things easier. Being unable to get across my fears meant I could pretend I had none, though I soon developed new fears as we travelled down in the lift together.

I worried what people would think of the collar. But no one even seemed to notice. If they did, they said nothing. I had a couple of glances but that was it. By the time we reached the cafe, I had realised that the person most worried about it was me.

By then I was glad of it, a definite marker that I belonged to him. Yes, I am the billionaire’s pet, me, little Rosa Harper, about three pound fifty in her purse and a handbag that’s falling apart. I’m his.

Sitting in the cafe, I could see him outside and I found myself admiring him. The fears of the previous night seemed to have faded, daylight making them smaller, less significant. He still wanted to spend time with me, that much was obvious. I hadn’t been sent home, told to walk away and never come back.

He looked at me and I looked away. Why was he having such an effect on me? Was it the money? The way he looked? Or was it maybe that I liked obeying him? He had told me this outing was to test how submissive I was but I could only wait to see what he meant by that.

The phone felt like a living thing, sitting on the table in front of me, silent sentinel of my anxiety, saying nothing, just watching me. I wanted it to come to life, get this awful pause over with, help me know what was going to happen. I jumped when it beeped, I had been so busy being worried.

 

Order a coffee and croissants.

 

Fine by me. I liked both. If that was the level of submission needed, I could relax.

I called the waitress over and gave her the order, doing my best to smile as I did so. “I like your necklace,” she said, nodding down at the collar. “I’ve got a choker just like that one.”

Not like this one, I thought, an image of him leading me through the office on the chain making me smile to myself.

My smile faded when the next message came through.

 

Undo the top button of your blouse.

 

Seven words but so much contained within them. Reading the sentence made my heart thud, my toes curling in my shoes. Right away my mind went into conflict with itself.

The tiny exhibitionist in me wanted to do it, the same part of me that wanted to pull the curtains back a little when I was getting changed in a clothes shop, the same part that sometimes went without a bra, that hadn’t minded my blouse getting wet on the day I’d lost my job, a day that seemed like it had taken place many years ago, so much had happened since then, none of it expected.

But the respectable woman I was wanted nothing to do with such a command. It was an appalling idea, to reveal my body like that, to obey a command that would titillate passers-by, make the waitress frown when she came back with my coffee.

I looked out at him. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe he’d sent the wrong thing. He met my gaze, nodding slowly as he did so. He meant it then.

It was a command. I had no choice. That made it easier to do. My heart was still racing as I reached for the top of my blouse but I also felt like I was waking up from a long sleep, like this was something I was meant to do.

I kept my face neutral, glancing around the half empty cafe to check no one was looking. Then I did it.

Quickly, without taking a breath. I flicked the button undone, whipping my hand back under the table a second later. It was only one button. You could hardly see anything. It was just like I would do if it was hot at home. No one there would comment on such things. I wore less at the swimming pool and I didn’t care who saw that. I was fine.

The waitress didn’t even notice when she came back with my coffee.

“Croissants are in the oven,” she said. “Won’t be long.”

I nodded my thanks to her, wondering if he would text again, what he might ask me to do next. I found out a second later.

 

Undo the second and third buttons.

 

My heart, so recently slowing down, began pounding in my chest again. That was going too far, wasn’t it? But he had commanded me. I had to obey.

I undid the second button, feeling myself more exposed than before. I refused to glance down as I undid the next button, looking steadfastly forwards, not wanting to lose my nerve. I didn’t know how much was visible but I felt sure it was too much. But people might see you, I thought.

Good, the exhibitionist in me replied, feeling a swelling inside me, a tingling warmth that started to spread through me, swallowing up my anxiety as it went.

I sipped at my coffee and waited but I didn’t have to wait long. Almost at once another message came through.

 

Undo the fourth button.

 

I obeyed straight away, wanting to please him, wanting the world to see but scared at the same time. Like I was on stage but not sure how the audience was going to react to what they saw. I could only wait and see.

The croissants appeared and as the waitress placed them on the table, I saw her eyes flash across to my chest. She said nothing, social etiquette dictating she not make a scene. That made my life easier. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle being thrown out.

I finished the first croissant, eating slowly, overcoming the knot in my stomach, forcing my heart to slow down, acting for all the world as if this was my normal way of looking. No one in the cafe had looked my way yet but it was only a matter of time.

He texted again. I had to go to the bathroom and remove my bra and panties. That was a whole new world of anxiety for me. It was one thing to sit like this with my bra on show but to do it with nothing under my blouse.

I almost refused. But then I thought about going home, about never seeing him again, about letting him down. I couldn’t do it.

I got up, crossing the floor with my arms folded, keeping the blouse closed. Once inside the tiny bathroom, I reached up under my skirt, pulling off my panties and cramming them into my handbag. It felt exhilarating and frightening at the same time. No one would know I had taken them off but I knew, I could feel it with every movement of my body. And he would know too. That was what mattered.

Removing the bra was harder but I did it. I looked down at myself with it off. There were still two buttons holding my blouse together but no matter how I stood, the swell of my cleavage was clearly visible. There was no pretending it was an accident. I could only hope the people out there were like the waitress, too afraid of making a scene to say anything to me.

Let them look all they wanted. The collar said I belonged to him, not them.

Sitting back down, I continued to eat, my chest heaving as I tried to keep my breathing in control, all too aware of the people passing by the window outside, the glances in at me.

Another message. Fifteen seconds with all buttons undone. Fifteen seconds was a lifetime.

But with him telling me to do it, I had an excuse. I wasn’t being disgusting, I was only obeying commands. I did it quickly. If I thought about it, I’d get too scared.

With the last two buttons undone, the blouse fell loose, my nipples half visible as I faced the window and counted as quickly as I could.

I had only reached five when a group of people outside noticed me. Not now, I thought as they stopped, pointing in, grinning inanely at the view. Oh no, one of them’s got a phone out. He’s about to-

Then Jamie was there from nowhere and the phone was stamped underfoot. Fourteen, fifteen, I thought quickly, getting to my feet at the same time, wrapping the coat around my shoulders and zipping it up to the next. I almost ran outside, the breeze on my bare legs making me hope the wind grew no stronger. My skirt was above the knee and I had to walk carefully to avoid flashing anyone. The group was moving away as Jamie slipped my hand into his.

Going shopping, he’d said. What kind of shopping, I wondered.

I found out when we walked into the shopping centre in the middle of town. He headed straight for the escalator and I knew at once what he had planned. The sides of the escalator were glass. Anyone looking up as we ascended would get a clear view of me, all too clear a view of me. Still he hadn’t said anything and I wasn’t allowed to. I could only follow him up there, holding my breath and keeping my legs clamped together.

“Go into that clothes shop,” he said when the seven year journey to the top was over. I stood panting, catching my breath as if I’d run up there. My heart was still racing as he told me exactly what to do. “Go to the corner in the far right and examine the clothes. Do not move from that spot until I tell you otherwise.

I walked away from him, trying to act calm even if I didn’t feel it. I took as long as I dared moving through the shop, feeling sure every customer was looking at me, even though there were only a few in there.

In the far corner were women’s tops and I ran my hand through the racks, looking but not seeing the different designs. They were out of my price range anyway, this wasn’t somewhere I’d ever shop normally.

I felt his hand on my shoulder a minute later. “Don’t look back,” he said. “Keep browsing.”

I froze on the spot as his hand moved up my skirt, reaching between my legs, stroking my thighs. I glanced around me but we were hidden from view pretty well, unless someone walked around the corner, of course, which they might at any moment.

I felt myself getting wetter the longer he touched me, his fingers moving closer to my clit. When he touched it, I came in just a few seconds, the feelings more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. I quivered in place, my legs shaking as he held me up. Then his hands were gone and I was left panting and alone. I turned but he was nowhere to be seen.

The phone he’d given me beeped a second later as I was still recovering from what had just happened.

 

Go into changing room one. Undo your jacket. Tuck your skirt into your waist. Stand still. Wait.

 

I walked on uneasy legs to the changing rooms, my thighs slick with wetness. I picked up a random top on the way, needing an excuse to go in there. What was he about to do?

My nipples rubbed on my blouse as I walked, a constant reminder of how turned on I was by what had just happened.

I showed the top to the sales assistant, passing her by and entering the first room. It was enclosed by walls on three sides, a curtain sliding across to give me privacy. There was an armchair, a mirror, and a couple of hooks, that was it.

I faced the curtain, trying to control my breathing as I undid my jacket, my nipples aching to be touched. I lifted my skirt, doing as he said, feeling myself completely exposed, more so than if I was naked.

The curtain was pulled back a second later and there he was. If anyone else had passed by they would have seen me in that second but luckily it was just him.

As the curtain closed again, he growled. “Kneel.”

I did as he said at once, watching as he unzipped his trousers, reaching inside and pulling out his cock which was bigger than I remembered it, so hard in his hand, throbbing in the bright light of the changing room.

“Open your mouth,” he said and I obeyed at once, desperate to taste it.

He slid it in, stretching my jaw, almost choking me as he thrust towards the back of my throat. He grabbed my head, holding me in place, owning me in that moment. Then he pulled free, letting me take a gasping breath.

“Use your mouth,” he said. “Not your hands.”

He stood perfectly still, his cock jutting obscenely towards me, wet with my saliva. I clasped my hands behind my back, running my tongue along the shaft, finding the tip, circling it, toying with him, showing him how much I wanted him. Then I took him deep, sucking and licking, hungrily devouring him, drawing deep guttural moans from him which he made no attempt to quieten.

I looked up into his eyes, wanting only to please him, glad to see the lust there, the need that I was bringing out of him. I rocked my head back and forth, hoping I was doing the right thing. Without guidance, I couldn’t be sure but his face said he was enjoying this. I licked the tip again and as I did so, he took over, placing his hand on the shaft. “Don’t move,” he said, jerking suddenly fast along his length.

I watched in fascination, never having seen something like this before. As he moved ever faster, he let out a gasp and then muttered, “Don’t move,” again.

A second later, his cock twitched in his hand and my face jolted instinctively backwards as it was hit by hot wetness spurting out of him. I gasped at the feel and he fired more at me, some splashing onto my tongue, yet more running down my cheeks, dripping from my chin.

He smiled at me, his hand slowing as he dipped into my mouth again. “You are not to clear that away,” he said.

“Get up. Walk out of here and out of the shop. There is a ladies room on the ground floor. Only when you are in there may you wipe it from you. Go.”

I stood up, cringing inside. It was one thing for him to do that to me in private but for me to walk out there like this?

I untucked my skirt, zipping up my jacket, trying to ignore the drops of heat that had fallen onto my chest.

I looked pleading up at him but he just shook his head. “Obey,” he said, pulling open the curtain, looking once again like a perfectly respectable businessman.

I walked out, my toes curling in embarrassment as I marched hurriedly out of the clothes shop. He wasn’t behind me. I found the back stairs and went down them, hoping no one was coming up.

I stopped at the bottom. There was a sign for a fire exit. Before I knew what was happening, I was out through it and in the alleyway behind the shopping centre.

I started to run, wiping my face as I went, refusing to think about why I was doing this or where I was going.

I couldn’t have walked any further through the shopping centre. There were too many people. They would all have seen that on my face, known what type of person I was.

What scared me the most as I ran, the thing I refused to even give a moment’s thought to, was the fact that I wanted to do it. What did that say about me? That I wanted the world to see his cum on my face?

I was crying by the time I got home. It was all too much. I couldn’t cope with the intensity of what had happened. The fire exit had given me the easy get out. My subconscious had taken control and got me out of whatever weird state I was in, told me this was bad, this was wrong, this was definitely not what respectable women did.

I ran straight home and straight to my room, collapsing on the bed and beginning to cry. I felt awful. Not only had I run but there was no way of making up for this. I couldn’t take it back. I’d gotten too scared. I couldn’t be his sub, I couldn’t be his, I couldn’t be the things he needed. I was too weak, too pathetic, too tied up in what other people thought of me. I was a bad person for letting him do that and I was equally bad for running from him.

I wanted to do it. That was the worst thing of all. I couldn’t help but think of that as I lay there crying. I had enjoyed everything he’d told me to do and that wasn’t right. I wasn’t right in the head to have enjoyed it.

I pulled the blankets over me and closed my eyes, wanting the entire world to go away and leave me alone.

I heard a knock on the door a second later, followed by Emma asking, “Did you get enough for the article?”

I didn’t answer. I had no idea how to tell her there was no way of writing an article about the things he did without revealing the sort of person I was. Instead, I continued crying quietly. Eventually, she walked away. Then I was truly alone.