The Studio Ch. 01

Melissa Larson was perhaps at the peak of her young career. A respected Doctor of Psychology specializing in Child and Adolescent Behavior, her recent book entitled "Teen Time -- A Guide for Self Esteem" was climbing the Amazon Best Seller list and she was quickly becoming one of the most sought after speakers on developmental and behavioral issues among adolescents in her field.

Her husband David was also quite renowned for his research on Dementia and Alzheimer's Disease. David was leading a team of dedicated Physicians and scientists at his research lab and was close to identifying markers in DNA which could detect individuals who might be susceptible to the disease, and if not slow it down remarkably, perhaps eradicate it altogether.

Melissa and David met in medical school almost 20 years ago and had two boys, Thomas and Michael. Thomas had been awarded a full scholarship at North Carolina State with the men's soccer team and Michael was in his senior year at high school. Both young men were academically gifted and popular at school. Melissa felt so fortunate for the life she shared with her family.

This evening's Gala was a huge night for Larson's. David's Institute had submitted a grant to the Wayne L. Simpson Foundation for $12.5 million. If the grant was approved, David and his life's work would have an extension of funding for the next year. The clinic, along with the other seven physicians and staff's positions, hung in the balance.

Mr. Simpson, an extremely wealthy businessman who had made a fortune on AI technology, amassing a net worth of $1.3 billion in just ten years, had invited the Larson's to his Annual Fall Gala. Simpson always capped off the evening's festivities with the presentation of a grant to a deserving charitable organization and David hoped his clinic might just be the beneficiary this evening.

Melissa adjusted her gorgeous gown in the full-length mirror. At 39, she looked every bit as trim and fit as she did in college. She wore a red sequin backless dress that hung perfectly on her narrow hips, accentuating her gorgeous round ass. Though she was small chested, a 30-A, her breasts were firm, capped off with two prominent nipples. Given their size, she rarely wore a bra which became quite evident when she was excited or chilly. Though she was never embarrassed, and sometimes appreciated the glances she received from both men and women alike as the little nubs pushed at her tops.

She was very selective about what she ate, practiced yoga, and still tried to get in a morning run every day before she headed into her office. Mel accentuated her 5'5" height with the burgundy three-inch heels she was wearing. She started to wear her hair up but decided to let her long silky brown hair fall softly over her shoulders.

Melissa capped off her stunning attire with an 18kt white gold diamond and ruby necklace that had belonged to David's mother. That and the diamond studded earrings in each year ensured she would certainly attract notice. David and Melissa rarely had opportunities to attend an event like this and she was really looking forward to it!

David walked into the bedroom in his black tux, looking elegant and debonair. David, at 5'11" was not much taller than Mel but the heels she wore gave him only a slight advantage. His brown hair had thinned over the years but he too kept himself in great shape and could still get into some of the tees he wore in college.

"Damn, you are one pretty lady," David gushed as he kissed his wife on the cheek. Walking behind her, he held Melissa tight in his arms. His face sliding beside hers as her perfume teased the evening air. "You're going the be the hit of the gala. Thank you for going tonight," he sighed. "It's a really big night for us,... the clinic. I'm not sure what we're going to do if we don't get the funding. Our federal support runs out at the end of the year and we're so damn close," he sighed

"You'll get it babe. Just have faith," Melissa encouraged him as she let her hand run down the leg of his trousers turning to kiss him softly on the lips.

Melissa and David arrived at the Simpson's just a little past eight with many of the guests having already arrived. The Simpson home was every bit as extravagant as Melissa imagined it would be. A huge plantation type home on a sprawling 80-acre compound. Hospitality attendants were walking throughout the house with champagne and delectable hors d'oeuvres

Melissa spied Wayne Simpson holding court on the other side of the room surrounded by a throng of people. He was much younger than she imagined - perhaps in his mid-fifties, Simpson cut a sharp image in the white dinner jacket and black slacks he was wearing.

As Melissa took in the gorgeous gowns and ornate surroundings, her gaze became fixed on a painting hanging on the wall just to the left of a large fireplace. "Oh, my Lord, I think..." she gasped as she moved closer pulling on David's arm. "It is, that's a Delacroix." David looked puzzled as his wife took in the painting.

"Delacroix was a French painter whose use of colors were simply spectacular and considered an inspiration for other Impressionist artists," Melissa gushed as her eyes took in the colorful canvass before her.

"Nice," David offered as he sipped his Champaign and then looked to see if he could make his way to his host. David didn't have to travel far as Simpson made his way over to the Larsons.

"David, you made it. So happy you could be here and this must be Melissa," he added as he reached out for her hand.

"You have quite a collection of art Mr. Simpson. I noted a Gainsborough, in addition to this beautiful Delacroix," she offered.

"Please, call me Wayne and yes, I have a fondness for the European masters. I take it you have an eye for exquisite art as well Melissa?" Simpson replied.

"I studied it extensively in college... though I was never good at painting myself. But I do have a great appreciation of their talent and these are breathtaking," she added.

"Then you simply must see my Renoir," he teased. "Would you enjoy that?"

"You have a Renoir as well?" Melissa shot back.

"David, that's my wife Stephanie over there by the fireplace," Simpson said pointing. "As well as my attorney Jannette. She wanted to meet you. Please introduce yourself and I'll give your wife a quick look at one of my most prized possessions if you don't mind," noting that David seemed to be completely disinterested in the priceless piece.

Melissa looked over to see an elegant blonde surrounded by several of the guests, but it was the young brunette with chestnut colored hair in a flowing ivory dress standing beside Mrs. Simpson that really drew her attention.

Simpson casually grasped Melissa's arm, "Come my dear. Let's go upstairs to my private office and I think you'll really enjoy a treat that few ever get a chance to see."

Melissa wasn't altogether comfortable leaving David but she also hoped to build a bond between herself and David's potential benefactor and this might be just the chance.

Simpson and Melissa walked up a winding staircase to the second-floor study as the crowd noise and music started to fade into the background.

Simpson opened the doors to a gorgeous cherry paneled room lined with shelves of first edition books, leather seating, and a wide mahogany desk. There behind the desk was indeed an early Renoir.

"Renoir was a master of eliciting feminine sensuality... don't you think," Simpson inquired as Melissa examined the painting.

"I've seen photos but never a real Renoir.... amazing," she uttered breathlessly observing the colorful brush strokes on the canvas.

Simpson walked over to a wet bar and pulled the top off a crystal decanter. "Care for a cognac my dear as you study the piece?

"I'm not sure I know much about liquors," Melissa said back softly, her eyes still gazing upon the work.

"This Remy Martin Louis XIII is excellent. I think you will enjoy it," he added as he walked it over and handed it to her.

Melissa wasn't a big drinker and sometimes found herself tipsy from a couple of glasses of wine. Tonight, she had already consumed two glasses of champagne, a wine before she left the house, and now a cognac from Simpson's private stash.

"Oooh, that burns a little," Melissa giggled as the cognac slid warmly down her throat.

"Just a little at first, but your second sip should be much smoother," Wayne smiled.

He was right, the second and third sips were warm but not nearly as harsh and actually quite tasty.

As Melissa looked around the room, her eyes focused on a painting that hung near the doors they came through. It was a kneeling naked woman. Her arms behind her back and hands clasped together. Her head down in a submissive posture but it was the thick black leather band around her throat that captivated her attention.

The painting was a pen and ink, in shadows of black and grey, giving it an even more erotic perception.

Melissa moved closer to the work, breathing it in. As Melissa studied what appeared to be a young woman in her early twenties, she couldn't help but think she had seen her before.

"It's entitled 'Obey,' I had it commissioned myself. Intriguing and yet so sexy and salacious, don't you think?" he smiled as he took a sip of his cognac.

"If that's your taste," Melissa shot back curtly though she was drawn to the piece, her eyes focused on the submissive posture. The fullness of the woman's breasts, her nipples standing proud and erect. Melissa could feel her own nipples hardening under the satin lined gown she was wearing.

While she normally enjoyed the looks her erect buds elicited, she tried to turn away from Simpson not betraying the true feelings the nude painting was having on her.

"You appear to be quite excited. Do you enjoy paintings on the darker side?" he asked.

Now Melissa was embarrassed and felt her face flush a little. Simpson had obviously taken note of her hardened nipples poking through the thin gown. She looked down ever so carefully and saw the two-pointed nubs which betrayed her excitement.

"The woman... she looks familiar," she noted.

"Yes, as I said... I had the work commissioned. You may have seen her downstairs speaking with my wife. That is my attorney, Jannette. She handles all of my affairs," he stated back with his voice halting and emphasizing 'all' of my affairs.

"So, she's also a model," Melissa looked back.

"No, not a model. More of a student I guess you could say," he smiled. "So tell me. Do you find yourself aroused at the notion of a beautiful woman submitting herself fully to her master?"

His words were penetrating. "I think we need to go back downstairs," she shot back as she turned and walked to the door.

"Before we join the others," he paused.

Melissa turned ever so slowly waiting for his next word, though she knew she needed to leave. This was moving quickly into a darker, far more dangerous area for her than she was prepared.

"Your husband needs a substantial sum of money to continue the work of his clinic. I am prepared to assist. I have right here," he informed her as he pulled an envelope from his breast pocket, "a check... $12.5 million to keep his work going. But I was hoping you and I could come to terms of our own," he smiled.

"Terms... what kind of terms," she shot back at him.

"He gets his funding... and, well you and I explore this fascination you have for the erotic," he smiled as he sat the envelope on the side of his desk and again took a sip of the savory gold liquid in his glass.

"You're sick," Melissa spat back. "I'm not sure what gave you the impression I was the least bit interested in you and I'm certainly not for sale. Not to you or anyone else. You can keep your fucking grant! David will find the funding. Fuck you," she said her eyes cutting into him.

"Sure, he'll find the funding...maybe. What does he have? Three months left before it runs out and then his clinic, the scientists...doctors. It all stops..." Simpson added.

"Do you know the work my husband is doing? How many hundreds of thousands of people he can help when they isolate the gene? And they are so close...so very close..." she pleaded as she moved closer to him.

"I do know... and you can make it happen Melissa. You can keep their research alive. All you have to do... is agree to some terms. Agree to submit yourself to me," Simpson countered studying her face.

Melissa stared back unable to speak.

"You go right on being a successful doctor, wife, mother. All I ask in return is maybe an afternoon or evening a week. Just a few hours to explore your repressed dark side," he pushed.

Melissa finally found her words. "I wonder what your wife would think if she knew you were up here trying to get me to have sex with you," she countered.

Simpson smiled, "First Stephanie knows all about my penchant for beautiful women. Actually, she shares it. Second, I'm not looking at just having sex with you. I intend to make you my little submissive slut. I'm going to bring out the repressed side of you that you never knew existed. Much like you do with the children and teens you meet with. Bringing out their fears and anxieties. We're going to explore the desires, needs, and cravings that you have buried deep in your conscience. Those deep dark fantasies that live only in the recesses of your mind -.that you fantasize about when you are all alone."

Melissa studied Wayne Simpson's face. She wanted to throw what little cognac that remained in her glass in his face and even though she knew she should be angry, repulsed at his offer, she also felt aroused, excited.

The truth is she and David had a pretty vanilla sex life. She had only had sex with one man before David -- a guy she dated in high school. David loved her and she never doubted that but he had never been a truly great lover... not that she had much to compare it to.

Melissa had always initiated their sex and quite often he came quickly and then just as quickly lost interests and went on to sleep leaving her worked up. It was pretty common for them to have sex and then as he turned over and slept, she would play with herself.

Now here was a man who wanted her. Who planned to do things that she had only dared fantasize about. But no.... this was completely absurd.

"So what's it going to be Melissa? His life work and that of his colleagues...its all in your hands..." Simpson smiled.

Melissa could feel a dampness down below. She was ashamed of the feelings she was having. Her nipples still erect and her cheeks warm and red. "I have never been more repulsed in my life Mr. Simpson. The thought of giving myself to you for one night.. much less...coming to terms as you put it... is simply... simply repugnant," she chided.

Yet deep down she was excited. A feeling she dared not share. "I love my husband. More than anything in the world. He and the kids are my life...and I would do anything for him. Even this...if that's the only way," she added.

"It is," he smiled back.

"What is it you want me to do?" she asked resigning herself to his request.

"First, I want you to slip out of that dress. I want to look at you," Simpson instructed.

Melissa stood in the center of the room. She casually walked over to a table and put down her glass, but not before downing the last sip of warm cognac. She walked back to the center of the room and deftly moved her fingers to the back of the dress and undid the snap and then pulled down the zipper as the red sequin dress slid down and off. The satin lining teased her nipples which may have been as hard and erect as they had ever been.

Melissa now stood in front of Wayne wearing nothing but the high heeled pumps and a burgundy thong.

Wayne sat back on the desk taking in the beautiful prize before him. He had seen pictures of Melissa in the marketing materials of the clinic. Jannette, his in-house counsel, had run an exhaustive background check on the whole family. Nothing had been left to chance as even Thomas and Michael's social media accounts were closely scrutinized.

Melissa's social media was confined to Twitter and a LinkedIn site with a few Pinterest postings but it was her son Michael who had captured a family outing to the beach with his mom wearing a modest but revealing two-piece bathing suit.

Actually, it had been Jannette who first brought Melissa to Wayne's attention.

Jannette had indeed been one of Wayne's earlier submissives and still relished that role but she too liked to exhibit a darker more dominant side especially with a much less experienced man...or woman.

"Remove the heels. I want to see you completely naked," Simpson smirked. Melissa slid out of her burgundy pumps leaving her nude except the thong which covered her now wet pussy.

As she straightened up, she could feel the warm rush of excitement across her body. Outside of her husband, no man had seen her naked since college. Occasionally she might undress with a girlfriend at the club when she worked out or went swimming. But that was different.

"Now the panties...take them off," he instructed. Melissa slowly hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the thongs and brought them down her slender legs. She trimmed her bush so that her pubic hair didn't show on the sides but she didn't shave it bare like many of her girlfriends.

"Nice, very sexy," Wayne cooed. "Now turn around and show me that gorgeous ass of yours.

Melissa did as instructed and couldn't help but feel excited as she felt Simpson's lustful gaze on her body.

"Now come over here and bend over this desk," he commanded.

Melissa turned around and looked at Simpson before she padded naked over to his desk and then bent over it as he directed.

"Now your first lesson in obedience. You will do as I say without question. Do you understand," he barked before his hand smacked loudly on her bare skin.

"Arrrouch," came the muffled reply as the sting of his hand resonated on her soft warm flesh. Again his hand landed a blow on her backside with a loud slap before again slamming down.

"Yes, fuck yes," she cried

"Yes what?" he barked as his hand slapped her ass again and then again before she gained the composure to say "Sir, yes sir, I promise..."

"Good," Simpson sneered. "And what was it you called me? Sick!" he went on as his hand smacked loudly against the flesh of her ass. His hand started to sting and he knew the pain she must be feeling on her tender flesh.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry for being disrespectful. It won't happen.... it won't happen again Sir," she cried as tears ran down the side of her cheek. Her ass on fire from the barrage of blows but the dampness between her legs evident as he occasionally let his hands wander over the red stinging flesh, wandering to her damp pussy lips.

Wayne touched her, letting his fingers run over and in between her swollen lips. He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted her essence...sweet as he knew it would be. She was his and now he would break her. He would destroy any last inhibitions. She would cave to his will...and submit... utterly and completely.

Simpson pulled off his jacket and then unfastened his belt. In seconds he had unsnapped his slacks and pulled them down. Wayne didn't pull them off, just down as he pulled Melissa up and then forced her to her knees. In seconds she was inches from his cock, already growing in anticipation.

"Suck me. Show me what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours," he barked.

It had been months since Melissa had given or received oral sex. Lately David when they did have sex, just got down to it. Melissa actually had enjoyed giving David head but he always seemed to be in a hurry and really not interested. Now here she was naked on her knees giving a blow job to a man she had only just met.