tagBDSMDarling Girl

Darling Girl

byFiregirl©

It was all just supposed to be an innocent game. I had just finished my first week at my new job, one I actually enjoyed. I was just an intern that spent most of my day filing paperwork and running errands, but this job had potential. For once I was not working some retail or telemarketing job
.
I grabbed a hot chocolate from a nearby coffee shop my coworkers had recommended and was heading towards Central Station to catch a bus home. That’s where I saw him. He was leaving the same building I worked in, one of many massive mirrored high-rises all over the downtown area. Don't get me wrong, there were quite a few suits sprinkled amongst the jeans and t-shirts of the Friday evening crush. But, he seemed to stand out. At first I thought I was simply imagining things. Yet, as I drew closer, he seemed to me like a predator amongst prey compared to the people rushing past him on the sidewalk.

His dark blue pinstripe suit was perfectly tailored to his tall lean frame, as I watched he shrugged out of his jacket and flung it over his shoulder, finger hooked into it. He could have been in a commercial, he looked so good. I was approaching him fast and I could now see his ice blue eyes that went so well with his perfectly tanned skin and dark, almost black hair. He glanced up at the sky, no doubt drawing the conclusion that it will rain shortly from the dark overcast sky overhead. He ran his fingers through his expensively cut hair and that's when I saw it, the ring.

It was beautiful in a positively medieval way. A ring made of white gold, not of marriage but something different, yet no less significant. Three bands of white gold intertwined around it, and a deep, blood red gem crest the top.

This ring simply did not fit the image that he had created with the suit, tie and briefcase. It made him rather intriguing. I decided to play a silly game I used to play with friends, I would follow him for a while, to see what he did and where he went. Just to see if his actions were as interesting as that ring. Having decided to become his temporary stalker I slowed to a stop and pretended to inspect myself in one of the mirrored panels near him. I watched as he began to walk down the street in no particular hurry. I tried to stay half a block behind him so as not to be spotted. He simply strolls. Occasionally glancing in store windows but never straying from his path. Probably just heading home, I assume, how boring.

He gets to a cross walk and stops. I slow my steps not wanting to draw too near and give the game away, but the light does not change nearly fast enough and I am soon standing next to him. As the light signals to walk I glance up and watch as he glances away from me down the street then toward me. He seems to be looking at me now, but then I realize that he is looking past me in that way strangers do. Then his vision comes back and he looks down to notice me. I give a small impersonal smile and cross the street. As I step off the curb he steps out with me.
"They call you Darling in the office, don't they?" He asks. His tone is only slightly questioning. I stare blankly at him.

"Excuse me?" I am not quite grasping that he knows my name.

"You are the intern aren't you?" He presses. Did he notice me following him? It couldn't be, I
had barely been with him for two blocks.

"Um, yes. And yes, they call me Darling. It's a family name." I try not to stutter. We cross the street and are fast approaching the ultra expensive high-rise residential area. I should have turned instead of crossing if I were going to go catch my bus. I was also beginning to think I should not have started this game in the first place.

"I didn't think anyone was in the office when I left. It's Friday, I expect everyone to leave at five." His voice is deep and soothing, as though he were coaxing me to talk. And I suppose he was. I let out a small chuckle.

"Everyone did leave at five. I grabbed a drink at the coffee shop across the street. I was just heading home.” He glanced around at the surrounding buildings.

"You live here?" He inquires. I almost laugh again. One month’s rent here could very well be my entire year’s salary as an intern.

"No, no I live a bit farther down." I tell him. For some reason I do not want him to know of my slum apartment on the south side. "I just like to walk a bit before heading home." I add, hoping to give credibility to why I am in this area. His ring hand rubs his chin, momentarily distracting me as I examine it up close.

"Many of the places around here are quite expensive. I was not aware we paid our interns quite so much. Where do you live anyway?" There is an inquisitive look in his eyes. I can feel his icy gaze piercing into me.

"Oh, not too far. It only takes a few minutes for me to get there." I try not to laugh outright at that bald-faced lie. I takes forty minutes by bus to get anywhere near my neighborhood. I am warming up to this fantasy life tale I am spinning. The look he keeps giving me suggests he isn't buying it. I don't mind. He'll never bother to verify my facts. I am just an intern and he probably wont remember me after this conversation is over.

"It only takes you a few minutes to walk to your place from here?" He drawls. I smile, deciding to throw a little truth in.

"Oh, no, I catch a bus at Central Station a few blocks away." His eyebrow rises a bit at my answer. I give him my best innocent smile.

"I suppose you passed your turn because you enjoy a walk before you head home?"

"Yes, I walk to the bus station." I am beginning to become unnerved by his constant questioning. As we continue talking we approach what I assume is his building. He then stops and takes my hand. I try to take a step back but he holds on.

"I realize that I know your name but you do not know who I am." He speaks in that soothing deep way again. "Craig Masterson, Vice President of Acquisitions."

"Well, nice to meet you." I try to pull my hand away without coming across as trying to run. His hands are soft to the touch but strong and seem reluctant to let go. I jerk a little harder, freeing my limb.
"I really must be going now. See you in the office on Monday." I stammer and begin to turn.

"What stop do you get off at?" He asks all of a sudden. "I try to stall.”

"Excuse me?"

"Your bus stop, where is it?" He seems rather insistent now. I decide to outright lie.

"Ah, j-just past Park and 49th. Why do you ask?" he looks directly at me, eyes not wavering as a I stammer out an answer. "I really have to run." I repeat.

"It's going to be pouring within minutes. Let me call you a cab." He offers, the soul of discretion now.

"I can't afford a cab that far!" I blurt out without thinking, "I will just catch my bus,. I really have to go before they stop running." I try to cover my error with babble but he is not having it.

"That far? I thought it was only a few minutes by bus. It will be no more than ten dollars by cab and anyone who can live within a few minutes from here can certainly afford a cab." He stares into my now panicky eyes. I simply want to get away. I decide to change tactics.

"Why so many questions? Have I done something wrong?" My chin goes up and I level my gaze.

"Darling, just past 49th and Park there are many buildings, none of which are residential. Why are you lying to me?"

"I live a little beyond that. I have to go." I turn and begin to head back the way I had come. Just wanting to go catch my bus and get home.

"Darling, come back here." I hear behind me. Not a request but an order. I ignore it and continue walking.

"Interns are easy to find." I freeze in my tracks with a gasp. "Some practically beg to work for this company. All they are waiting for is an opening." His voice taunts behind me. I swing around.

"You can DO that!" I cry, outraged.

"You would be amazed at what I can do." His voice has not changed in tone or volume, but the words have the ring of finality to them. His gaze is cold.

"It was just a game." I tell him, "I want to go home now."

"A game? What sort of game?" He begins to turn the ring on his finger.

"I was following you. I didn't know who you were, but you looked interesting. It was your ring. I didn't expect you to know my name. I just wanted to see where you went after work. I only lied so you wouldn't remember me later. I didn't mean for it to go this far." I explain quickly ending with a semi-plea, "I live a forty minute bus ride away from here, I cant afford to lose this job over my silliness. I'd like to go now."
He looks me over a bit. I feel dejected and desperate, waiting for him to pass verdict over my future. He looks at his rings as I mention it and smiles faintly.

"Come upstairs." With that he turns and begins heading towards the building.

"But, I don't have time, the bus..." I taper off when he turns back.

"The bus, my dear, runs all night." I flinch at his acid tone.

"I just want to go home." I try again, pathetically. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dollar bill.

"You have two choices, come upstairs like I have asked you, or take this dollar and buy a Sunday paper with it. You'll need it to find a new job." He was so cold and matter of fact. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'll go upstairs."

"Good girl. Carry my briefcase." He hands it to me. I take it with a mental snarl, but I keep my mouth shut. He smiles, obviously taking pleasure in crushing my pride. We walk up to the door where the doorman greets him and looks right through me. He continues on, motioning me forward when I hesitate on the threshold. We walk through the expansive lobby; it is empty except for the concierge at the desk. He also looks right through me as we head for the elevator. I shake my head trying not to giggle hysterically at the thought that the only one to greet someone at my door would be a crack dealer. But, that is why I took a corporate job, hoping to work my way up. I certainly had not expected to be serving as a bellhop.

"Darling, press the button for the 22nd floor." He tells me. This would have been nothing if not for the elevator man standing right there. I lean past the uniformed man and depress the button.

"Mr. Masterson." The man greets my blackmailer and looks right through me. That was getting kind of annoying.

"Why are you putting me through this." I ask, stung at the way I’ve been treated, as if I am not worthy of notice. He ignores me. A bell dings and the elevator door slides open.

"After you." He gestures to me, "Last door on the right." I move forward with out looking and then gasp at the plush opulence everywhere. The hallway is very elegant and there appears to be only eight apartments on this floor.

"Mr. Masterson," I repeat once the elevator is gone, "why are you doing this?" We get to his apartment and he motions me inside.

"All will be explained. Trust me." He smiles. I growl low in my throat in frustration and enter, with a shudder, the blatantly masculine domain. I think of my job and swallow hard.

"I have no reason to trust you. You are manipulating me in a rather unethical way." I glance around a well designed and maintained apartment. It seems a shame to call it the same thing I call my cramped and faded place. This one is very big and open.

"And you were stalking me." He shot back. I ignore him as I get a look at his floor to ceiling picture window that made up one whole wall. The city skyline looked back at me.

"Wow! I bet this view cost a fortune. This place is wonderful. The city looks so clean and pretty from this high up. I'm going to live in a place like this one day." I wanted to press my nose against the window and stare forever but didn't think he'd appreciate that. Instead I faced him and caught him smiling at me in a rather un-sinister way.

"I'm glad you like it. I don't even notice it anymore. I had forgotten that not everyone comes home to this." He seemed sincere. Then I remembered the comment he'd just made.

“I wasn't really stalking you. I had only followed you for a little bit." I was on the defensive again and his face became bland, his eyes icy.

"That's right, you were playing a game. What was that game exactly?"

"We would all follow someone we thought was interesting until that person spotted us. It never lasted very long. A big group of giggling teenage girls is kind of hard to miss. I thought I would last a bit longer though, since it was only me and I didn't giggle even once." I gave a small smile at that. "You did not turn out to be as interesting as I first thought."

"Yes, quite so. I like to play games as well." He drawled

"Are you playing one with me now? Will it be over soon?" I asked hopefully.

"My friends on the executive committee and I play a game." He continues as though I had not spoken. "We watch different people and their climb up the corporate ladder."

"Well, I suppose you would have the proper seats for that game." I spat out. He just stared at me.

"We place bets on which people will try to suck and fuck their way to the top." His eyes are boring into mine. My jaw drops.

"Th-that's a sick game. Both the players and the betters should be ashamed!" I cry.

"Ah, but it's fun." He insists, "Especially since we get to reap the benefits of such desperation." He was smiling at me knowingly now. I set the briefcase on the floor and began to back towards the foyer and my escape.

"I should be going now." I am still trying to be polite to this man, "It was, interesting, meeting you." He picks up a remote and aims it at me. I think for a moment that he is trying to mute me. I vaguely register a small "click" in the background.

"I like to be home before dark." I explain.

"You will go home when I am through with you." He insists softly.

"You have mistaken what kind of person I am." I tell him reasonably.

"How would you like a nice cushy, permanent, job at the company? High above that fabled glass ceiling?" he tempted.

"Not on the terms you seem to be offering. I would feel better about earning my way up in the traditional manner."

"Oh you'll work hard, " He promised, " And what is more traditional than sleeping your way to the top?"

"Listen, I was raised with too much pride for that. I would rather be poor than to sell myself to you!" I am breathing hard now, trying to reason with him, "Can we just forget this whole thing? I am just an intern. You will never see me again. I am so sorry I bothered you!"

"No." Cold, unrelenting.

"Why are you doing this to me? I am a hard worker. I am good at my job!" I cry
"I've read your file Darling, I know what you can do. I think you would be good at this. Go into the bathroom and get undressed."

"If I wanted to whore myself," I sneered, beyond caring now, "I would never have left home! You can give my job to someone else. Hire a slut who will get on her knees for it. I am going home." I turn and head for the door. I must have noticed that he did not follow me but I was too distracted, simply wanting to get outside. I grab the knob and wrench it open. Only it does not open. The knob won't even turn. The horrid realization of what the remote control did sets in. I turn to see him grinning.

"Let me out." I demand. I feel fear trickling through my veins.

"No."

"This is not funny. I am not a toy to be played with. Let me out of here." I am trying not to become hysterical now.

"No."

"I'll scream! I'll call the cops!" I search desperately for a manual lock, "Let me out of here!" I cry.

"Darling, you can't get it open." I whirl on you. You look calm, as though you are waiting for me to figure something out.

"This isn't legal." I hiss.

"The walls are soundproof; the door can only be unlocked by code. And believe me, if asked, no one saw you come up here. I will ask you one more time. Get into the bathroom and undress. I don't want to have to ask a third time."I lean my back against the door, feeling it's impersonal chill through my blouse.

"Don't do this. I swear I wont tell anyone. Let me go home now please. The door..." His face has a twinge of irritation.

"Five...Four..." I dash forward as he begins counting down, " Three..."

"Stop it!" I scream, "I am not a child!"

"Two..." I search for and find the bath room door, entering it. He steps towards me and I slam it shut just as he finished the countdown. I hear the lock click into place and notice that this door has no manual lock either.

"In thirty minutes I will let you out. I suggest you shower and be naked." I hear through the door. I try the knob even though I know I am trapped.

"Do you understand Darling." I turn and face the most luxurious bathroom I have ever been in.

"Yes." I shower quickly, too afraid to enjoy the jet spray or the Jacuzzi tub. I sit, nude, on a plush terry covered bench and brush out my hair. As I wait I hear muffled noises. It’s impossible to tell what they are. It is the longest thirty minutes of my life. I cry for a bit, fold my clothes neatly, look through all of the cabinets for something to be used as a weapon, but only find a safety razor and a toothbrush. Then the lock clicks open.

He appears, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt now. I cannot help but admire the way the cotton stretches over his frame. He steps back, one hand behind him the other holding the door open as I approach. I am uncomfortable in my nudity.

"I am not a whore." I tell him.

"I know you aren't." He whispers in a sympathetic tone that surprises me. "Are you a virgin?" I blink, surprised, and glance away.

"No. No I am not a virgin." My eyes are on the plush carpet so I do not see the hand come up or the collar until he has slapped it around my neck. I jerk back instinctively and feel the pull as he does not let go.

"Good." He whispers in my ear, "If you obey me, you will be safe. Disobey me, and you will be in trouble." I swallow, lifting my eyes to yours.

"Will I be here for long? Will everything go back to normal when you are done with me?"

"You will be here a few hours at the least, when all is done, everything will return to normal."

"I'll... I'll still have my job?"

"Of course." At that I nod and give into my fate.

"Now let's go into the living room" He leads me by the collar. Normally I would have been amazed by the living room. The couches were incredibly soft looking leather, the rugs divine. In this case I stared in horror at the five other men sitting on the couches. I am paraded before them, my cheeks burning, listening to them compliment "Craig" on his choice.

"I can't wait to see this one work," the man with the streaks of gray at his temples comments. They all seem to be about the same age, all rather well built and affluent. I turn pleading eyes on my captor.

"Please, no, Mr. Masterson." I whisper. "Please don't do this."

"If you obey, it will be just me. If you disobey, they all get a crack at you." My eyes wide and shining from unshed tears, I nod.

"Anything you want. Just don't let them touch me, please."

"Good girl." He whispers and kisses my forehead. The men are sitting on all of the chairs in the living room forming a ragged circle with a large empty area in the center. He leads me there. All eyes are on me and I have to fight the urge to retch or to cover myself with my hands. Some of them are already rubbing their crotch.

"Take off my shirt." He commands me. I slid my hands under the cloth and push it up his chest, uncovering tautly muscled flesh. As I go on tip toe to pull it over his head I hear him whisper,

"Show me you want me little one."

With a low moan I press my moistened lips to his chest. I run my tongue over one nipple and scrape my teeth over the other. I just want to pass out but I am afraid of what will happen to me if I let the colored dots clouding my vision win. The black shirt falls to the floor. He turns me so that my back is pressed to his chest one arm around my waist, lifting me slightly off of the ground. The other hand fondles my breasts, pulling my nipples until they stand erect then squeezing the soft globes in his large hand. I did not even notice that he had turned full circle, so that the men could all see what he was doing, until he put me down.

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