I’ve got another hot BDSM story in the works. Check out this little preview:
“What’s your name?” he said. Demanded, rather.
“Katie. Katie Moore.”
“Hand over the camera, Katie Moore,” Zachary Holder demanded. I gave it to him and he removed the memory card and crushed it in one hand. I squeezed my legs together. Thinking about how strong he had to be was making me wet.
“Tell your friend,” he said, “that the next time she’s trying to film someone without their knowledge she should stop looking at the camera.”
“She’s not my friend. She’s my boss.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“And that’s supposed to make it okay? It’s quite illegal to video tape someone without their consent and you were the one holding the camera. Not her.”
“I never said it was okay. I thought it was a gross thing to do, but I didn’t know what I was signing up for until it was too late. What am I supposed to tell her?”
“You say, ‘No, I don’t want to commit any crimes today.’” His eyes narrowed at me. They were dark enough to get lost in. I had to look away.
“That would have gotten me fired and blackballed all over town.”
“What do you think is going to happen to you now? She was a peon. I am not.”
My eyes widened in total horror. Why did that never occur to me? I didn’t know what was worse, the thought of going to jail or the realization that I pissed off one of the most powerful men in the world.
Mr. Holder loomed over me like an oncoming storm. “Please,” I begged. “I know it was wrong and I always did. I only did it because I never imagined I’d get caught and the other options available seemed worse. Clearly I was wrong about that…”
“I suppose your honesty is refreshing,” he said.
“I’ll do anything. Don’t send me to jail or screw me over.”
“Anything, huh?” He straightened up, a sly smile on his face that tied my stomach into knots.
“Y-yes…” I said, feeling like I had jumped from the frying pan to the fire.
“Get to your feet,” he ordered. I jumped right up and he nodded back to the closet. “Don’t forget your shoes.”
I grabbed them but wasn’t given time to put them on before he rushed me out into the hallway. No one was around. It was after hours and most of them had already gone home. My cheeks still flushed red, though. I didn’t know what he had planned for me, but I think he liked me feeling humiliated.
He marched me across the building and to a door with his name on it, his office, presumably. When we were inside with the door closed I stopped to finally put my shoes back on but one glare from Zachary and I dropped them on the floor.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he said.
“What? You can’t possibly—”
“But I do. Unless you want me to call the police, you will do everything I tell you. And from now on, the only words I want to hear out of your mouth are ‘Yes, sir.’”
My mouth dropped open. This couldn’t be real. Except from the way he glared at me, it absolutely was and I did not want to see what would happen if I refused.
I dropped to my knees like he instructed.
