The Executive Lifestyle Experience Ch. 03

Author's note: This is the continuing story about a shy young wife exploring her submissive desires, under coercion at first, then with greater enthusiasm as the story progresses. It is a fantasy, set in a fictional world where there is no risk of STDs, and there is no downside to casual sex with multiple partners... As I said, fantasy. Don't try this at home.

Chapter Three: Submission in San Francisco

Sara's next commitment for company travel was to the aerospace industry show in San Francisco, in late-March. Sara was responsible for coordinating the show. It was the first time she held that level of responsibility. At all prior shows, Sara had been an assistant, now she was the one in charge.

As show coordinator, Sara would be responsible for making all arrangements, seeing that everything was perfect. When she found out that McCafferty would be attending, she was a little nervous; he was a very high profile VIP, and this was her first time in charge of everything. But she resolved to do her best to make the event successful.

The show was in the Hyatt Regency hotel near the airport, and ran through Thursday. The company had a block of rooms for attendees, exhibit space, and a hospitality suite for meetings and discussions.

Because he was a company VIP, Sara had booked McCafferty into a room adjacent to, and adjoining, the hospitality suite. He could open the door between the rooms, effectively making the hospitality suite his living room, or he could close the door for his own privacy.

The show had run through Thursday, and had been a success. Most of the staff flew back east on Friday, but Sara had to stay over to coordinate shipping the exhibits back to the plant. McCafferty also decided to stay over for a meeting on Friday with a potential strategic acquisition. Both were scheduled to fly back on Saturday.

That evening, since they were the only two left, McCafferty and Sara had dinner together in a local 5-star restaurant. Given the formality of the restaurant, both McCafferty and Sara dressed for dinner; he in a business suit, and she in a sexy "little black dress" that he rented for her from a local shop. McCafferty had picked out the dress without telling her, and had it sent to her room.

When the dress arrived, Sara had called him to protest, but McCafferty had simply waved away her objection. He said Dinner was a reward for her excellent performance, and he knew she quite likely wouldn't have an appropriate dress with her at the show.

The dress was a little more revealing than Sara usually wore, but it was quite classy. Slinky and elegant, it was scooped low in back and had a deliciously plunging neck line in front. An elegant halter strap around her neck kept the dress up.

McCafferty smiled appreciatively when he saw it, making Sara blush. Dinner was excellent, and McCafferty was charming and flirtatious throughout. He ordered a bottle of fine wine, and kept Sara's glass full.

McCafferty turned on the charm at dinner, praising Sara for her proficiency in handling the show, talking about her personal life, and subtly flirting. Sara enjoyed the attention. But she had more alcohol than she had intended, and did not realize McCafferty's true intentions.

By the time they had finished dinner, Sara was feeling a little buzzed. She tried to excuse herself, but McCafferty insisted she return to the hospitality suite for a nightcap. The Company had already paid for a variety of premium liquors, he explained, and it would be a shame to let them go to waste. Sara relented, returning to the hospitality suite for one last drink.

When they re-entered the suite, McCafferty showed Sara to the suite's bar.

"Here... decide what you would like to have... but please excuse me for a second. I want to slip out of this coat and tie."

McCafferty walked over to his adjoining room and closed the door, leaving Sara to peruse the liquors.

In a moment, he was back, having slipped off his coat and tie.

"Are you familiar with these, Sara?" He asked, showing her the various bottles.

"Not really," Sara admitted. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"Try the Irish Mist, then," McCafferty urged. He opened an ornate bottle and poured some of the amber liquid into a small cordial glass. "It's made from honey."

"You're a very beautiful woman, Sara," he noted as he handed her the cordial. "Your husband is a very lucky man."

"Thank you, Mr. McCafferty," Sara blushed, experimentally taking a sip from her glass.

"But your husband isn't here, is he?" McCafferty said meaningfully. "He's 3 thousand miles away, at home."

Sara blushed, feeling concern for the first time.

"Mr. McCafferty..."

McCafferty waved away her incipient protest.

"Your husband doesn't really know you, does he, Sara?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"He doesn't know your secret fantasies. He doesn't know that what you desire most in a man is someone who will master you... Someone who is so powerful, he will take what he wants, will force you to submit to his will... Someone Man enough to drag you through all those dark and scary places in your mind."

Sara didn't know what to say. She just looked at McCafferty in shock, while he continued.

"I am that man, Sara. I am rich and powerful, and I know your secrets. I know how you are... that deep inside, in places you never let anyone see, you want someone to take control, to do all those deliciously dirty things that you read about in those romance novels you're always reading."

"Ohh...," Sara flushed, suddenly embarrassed and frightened. "Mr. McCafferty... I'm married... I can't... I have to go."

"Does your husband know you fantasize about being kidnapped and raped?"

Sara gasped.

"What? How can you know that?"

"You do, don't you?" McCafferty gave her a look of smug confidence. "Just like those women in those romance novels you are always reading... the bodice rippers... you dream of being forced into situations like that."

"Oh, god!"

"I'll bet he doesn't know that you dream of being taken by a man that will make you his slave."

McCafferty reached out and grasped Sara by her hand, drawing her to him. He took the cordial from her and placed it on the end table.

"For the rest of this evening, Sara, you will call me 'Master Scott'.

"Oh, god," Sara gasped, taking a deep breath. "Please... I can't be unfaithful to my husband."

She watched in horrified fascination as McCafferty drew a set of gleaming steel handcuffs from his pocket. Extending her hand, he quickly ratcheted one of the cuffs around her slender wrist. Then, while Sara was too shocked to even protest, he turned her around, pulled both arms behind her back, then locked her other wrist in the cuffs, trapping her hands behind her.

"You're my captive now," McCafferty asserted. "Until I release you, you have to do anything I tell you."

Sara let out a little gasp, then quickly caught herself.

"I can't, Mr. McCafferty... please."

McCafferty chuckled to himself. He noticed Sara's nipples were erect, pushing prominently at the slinky material of her little black dress. He also noticed she was beginning to breathe in ragged little gasps.

"I told you, Sara... Call me 'Master Scott'!"

He abruptly slapped Sara across the cheek. It wasn't really hard, but it stung, and it made Sara gasp to be treated so dominantly

"You can and you will," McCafferty growled. "And anytime you forget to use the proper form of address, there will be punishment."

He slapped her again, then grabbed her hair in his fist, tipping her head back and holding it immobile. He brought his mouth to hers.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Sara. Far too pretty to resist."

He kissed her, keeping a firm grip in her hair, pulling just hard enough to make it hurt as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

Sara whimpered softly as McCafferty kissed her, but she could feel herself surrendering to him. He was her darkest fantasy come to life. A handsome, rich, powerful man, demanding her surrender, prepared to take her virtue... unmoved by her refusal, by her attempts to be faithful to her husband.

As McCafferty continued to kiss her, holding her head by a fist full of hair with his left hand, he let his right hand wander down Sara's body to her left breast. He felt it, cupping it with his hand. Then, still kissing her, he took her nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezed it, slowly and relentlessly increasing the pressure.

Sara gasped into his mouth as he squeezed her nipple, taking her beyond the onset of pain. He kissed her all the harder, demanding her surrender and getting it. She melted against him, swooning into the kiss, allowing him to plunder her mouth with his tongue.

"Oh, god!" She gasped when he broke the kiss a moment later, simultaneously releasing his painful grip on her erect nipple. "What are you doing to me?"

"I am treating you as you long to be treated," McCafferty said simply. "I am dominating you, treating you like the Master in your darkest dreams."

Sara was confused. Somehow, this rich, powerful and handsome man knew exactly how to push her buttons, and he was doing it with expert precision. She was breathing deeply, wildly aroused by what he was doing to her, that he had the nerve to be so demanding. This was clearly sexual harassment, and yet, she couldn't credibly object. She was so turned on, she felt like she might cum without him even touching her. Her nipples were like little pebbles, and she could feel wetness seeping into her panties. Worse yet, he knew the effect he was having on her. She could see it in his eyes.

But, even as turned on as she was, Sara knew she had to be faithful.

"Please, Mr. McCafferty, I can't!... I have to be faithful to my husband!"

McCafferty slapped her again, holding her head still with his left hand and hitting her cheek with his right. Like before, it was a gesture of dominance, hard enough to sting, but not much more.

"I told you, woman... you address me as 'Master Scott'. Anytime you do not, there will be punishment! You seem to be a slow learner."

Sara whimpered softly.

"SS...Sorry... M...Master Scott."

"That's better... Now, let's get a few rules straight. You speak when spoken to, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Scott."

"Good."

McCafferty had to force himself not to smile. He was very pleased with the effect he was having on this talented young associate.

"Furthermore, you will avert your eyes in my presence. You will keep them lowered at all times when you are around me. Do you understand?"

Sara was having trouble controlling her breathing.

"Y-yes, Master Scott."

"Good... Now, did you enjoy the Irish Mist?"

His sudden change of tack took Sara completely by surprise. She was so flustered, she couldn't answer for a few seconds.

"Wha...? Oh... um, yes."

He reached out and seized her left nipple once again, giving it a firm squeeze, making Sara gasp.

"'Yes, Master Scott'," he corrected her, still pinching her nipple. "You forget so easily. I think you enjoy being punished."

"I am sorry, Master Scott," Sara gasped. "Yes, Master Scott, I did enjoy the Irish Mist."

McCafferty released her, then reached over and picked up Sara's cordial. Looking into her down-cast eyes, he brought the little glass to her lips.

"Have another sip."

He held the glass while Sara took a sip, then pulled the glass away and kissed her, savoring the taste of the Irish Mist between them.

Sara moaned deep in her throat as McCafferty French-kissed her, exploring the inside of her mouth with his tongue. This was so outrageous, but she found herself unable to resist. Everything he did to her was turning her on like a runaway freight train.

McCafferty kissed her for a long time, exploring the sweet recesses of her mouth. Then he pulled back and once again held the glass to her lips.

"Mmmmm... so sweet. Here, have some more."

Sara took another sip. As soon as she had done so, McCafferty pulled the glass away and kissed her once again.

"So beautiful," he murmured in her ear as he continued to kiss her lips, her cheek, and her neck. "So very sexy."

"Oh, god," Sara gasped. "This can't be happening."

"It is happening, Sara," McCafferty answered. "And deep down, it is exactly what you want to happen."

He brought the glass once more to her lips, letting her sip the amber liquid.

"Mmmm... honey," he murmured as he kissed her yet again. "So sweet... so innocent."

Sara was breathing raggedly as McCafferty finally took the empty glass and set it down. Her nipples were hard little nubs, clearly visible beneath the dress she was wearing, and her panties were soaked. She was incredibly aroused. As much as she wanted to be faithful to me, she felt herself giving in to the incredibly sexy experience she was having. She found herself wishing McCafferty would keep going, would force her to submit to whatever depravity he chose to mete out.

McCafferty smirked at her, almost as if he could read her mind.

"Kneel, wench!" He ordered. "On your knees, right here on the rug."

He indicated a spot in the middle of the floor in front of him.

With a helpless whimper, Sara sank to her knees on the rug.

McCafferty reached down and removed her shoes, exposing her feet, still encased in her nylon hosiery, as Sara knelt helplessly.

"Stay right where you are," McCafferty commanded, walking leisurely into his adjacent room. He returned a moment later, holding a leather riding crop.

"Oh my god," Sara breathed as she saw what he was holding. "Oh, please don't hurt me!"

McCafferty approached her, smirking as he did so.

"I told, you, wench... not to speak unless spoken to. And you forgot, yet again, to use the proper form of address. Do you like being punished?"

Sara blanched.

"Please forgive me, Master Scott. I am sorry, I forgot. Please, Master Scott... please don't hurt me."

McCafferty reached out with the crop, gently caressing Sara on each cheek, slowly, tantalizingly drawing the whip over her skin, down her face.

"This time, I think not," he said firmly. "That was one too many infractions. I think your memory needs something to jog it."

He walked slowly around her, admiring her form. When he was behind her, he seized Sara's cuffed wrists in his hands, lifting them, forcing her to bend at the waist as he drew her arms higher into the air.

"Four strokes," McCafferty pronounced. "Two on the backs of each thigh."

He flipped the hem of Sara's dress up over her back, exposing the cheeks of her ass, covered by her pantyhose.

Sara whimpered softly as her underwear was so lewdly exposed, but she did not protest otherwise. She bit her lip and waited, dreading the pain that was about to come.

McCafferty made her wait. He held her hands up high, keeping her bent at the waist so that her head was almost touching the carpet, her ass up and on display.

"Really, Sara," he commented. "Pantyhose is so mundane, almost sexless. Do yourself a favor... Don't be afraid to be sexy. You should wear stockings with suspenders, and you should always make sure your panties are outside your suspender belt."

Sara wasn't sure how to respond. It was outrageous that he should say such a thing, should have the presumption to tell her how to dress. But she didn't think it was wise to backtalk, not when she already was under the threat of punishment.

"Yes, Master Scott."

He pulled the pantyhose off her waist, exposing the bikini panties she wore underneath. 'Panties and pantihose,' he thought to himself. She really was conservative. He stripped the panties down as well, baring her pussy, making Sara give an embarrassed little moan. He worked both garments lower, drawing the clinging fabric down her thighs.

"Lift your knees."

Sara obediently lifted one knee, then the other, allowing McCafferty to remove her pantyhose. He drew the stretchy material down her legs and off her feet, then wadded up the material and pointedly threw it into the trash can. McCafferty repeated the process with her panties, stripping them off her, not failing to notice how wet they had become.

"These are sexy enough," he noted, "and very wet. It appears you are enjoying this."

Sara said nothing, mortified by her body's betrayal.

McCafferty placed Sara's panties to the side, with her shoes, then returned to where Sara knelt, once again seizing her bound hands, and pulling them high above her back. He teasingly ran the crop over her ass, first one cheek, and then the other, giving her time to appreciate her predicament. Then he hit her, on her left ass cheek.

<Whack!>

It wasn't really that hard, but Sara gasped in surprise at the sudden sting.

"That was one," McCafferty told her. "Let me hear you count."

"One, Master Scott... Thank you."

Sara was gasping for breath now, incredibly turned on by what was happening to her.

<Whack!>

McCafferty hit her again, this time a little lower and a little harder than the first stroke.

"Uhh... Two, Master Scott... Thank you."

McCafferty chuckled at his young associate. She really was quite delicious.

<Whack!>

McCafferty switched to the other side, striking only about as hard as the first stroke, and once again catching her ass cheek where it joined her upper thigh.

Sara gasped, squirming a little at the sting of the lash.

"Ahhhh... Three, Master Scott... Thank you."

<Whack!>

McCafferty hit her one final time, a little harder and just below the previous strike.

Sara whimpered a little at the sting.

"F... F... Four, Master Scott... Thank you."

Sara began to straighten up, thinking her chastisement was over, but McCafferty stopped her.

"Stay in position, wench. Keep your head down and your ass up, just like that. I like seeing you that way."

Sara blushed as she realized the obscene display she was making, but she obeyed McCafferty's command, even as he let go of her cuffed hands and moved around behind her.

"Your pussy is wet, wench!" McCafferty gave a wry chuckle. "You're positively soaked."

McCafferty gripped Sara's pussy with his left hand, forcing his finger tight into her cleft. His finger pressed into her slit, against her mons, making her moan with pleasure and humiliation.

"What's that, little pussy," McCafferty demanded. "I didn't hear you."

Sara whimpered, thoroughly humiliated.

"Y... Y... Yes, Master Scott, my pussy is wet."

"And why is that, slave?"

Sara groaned in humiliation.

"I... I don't know," Sara whimpered. "I can't help it."

McCafferty abruptly removed his hand and picked up the crop. The globes of Sara's ass were completely exposed.

<Whack!>

<Whack!>

McCafferty hit each cheek of her ass, in rapid succession. These blows were harder, leaving a stinging red imprint on each cheek. Sara cried out with the pain, struggling briefly to get away as McCafferty held her tightly.

"Ahhhhhh.... Oh, please!!!"

"When you lie, there will be punishment! Now tell me the truth! Why is your pussy wet?"

"Ohhh," Sara gasped. "My pussy is wet because I am very turned on, Master Scott. I am very aroused."

"That's not so hard, is it?" McCafferty observed with a little smile of triumph.

McCafferty began to knead the globes of Sara's ass with his right hand, stroking the soft flesh, soothing the area he had so recently hit with the crop. He rubbed lower, down the back of Sara's thighs, soothing her and enjoying the feel of her soft womanly flesh.

"You have lovely skin, Sara," McCafferty observed. "So soft... So deliciously sexy."

McCafferty released her and stood up.

The hem of the dress fell back into place as Sara knelt up, hiding her crotch. She was grateful not to be exposed, but was also acutely aware she was now naked under her dress.

"Head down! Avert your eyes," McCafferty growled as Sara gave him a questioning look.