My day starts off as it all the time does, with a cup of tea and a fashion mag. I sigh as I read the articles, it’s totally unfair knowing that I could write a way better article than any of the featured writers, if only a magazine would give me a chance. I finish my tea and put the magazine down, I’ve got a commercial shoot at 10 and I need to get ready. Choosing an outfit takes ages as all the time, so many options!

I end up going with a knee length dark-green skirt, long sleeved black crop top, black tights, 4-inch black heels (cannot leave the house without heels) and silver hoop earrings. As I check myself out in the mirror I feel a rush of confidence, I feel great and, more importantly, I look great! My 5ft1 figure (5ft5 in the heels) and slim frame looks perfect, my figure framed by long, wavy brown hair reaching down to my waist.

I leave my flat around nine and get on the tube not long after. I arrive at the shoot with five minutes to spare. The shoot is for an accounting firm, they want a few office shots for their advertising. All goes well and I’m finished by 11:30. Perfect, plenty of time to buy myself a new outfit for my next blog post.

I head into the nearest department store and discover myself immersed in the clothing section as I check out dresses, skirts and lingerie. After an hour of browsing I settled on a black leather waist length pleat skirt, a set of black lace lingerie, grey thigh-high boots, and a black lace choker. It’s not a complete outfit but I have some bits in the flat which I can pair with what I’ve bought. I head straight home willing to begin working on my blog.

I end up pairing the leather skirt with a black, low-cut t-shirt, the boots I pair with a grey zip-up jacket. Looking in the mirror I discover myself to be super happy with the outfit, it’s perfect for the autumn season, the heels of the boots bring me up to 5ft6, I might be able to reach the top shelf of the fridge wearing these.

In the shared living room of my flat I set my camera up, instructing it to take a shot every ten seconds. I must have spent at least half an hour posing in the outfit, getting a wide variety of shots to use in my blog post. When I look back through them I end up choosing a few dozen to keep, I decide to use the one of me with my legs crossed at the knees leaning back on the sofa as the opening shot for the post.

After a couple of hours, a small lunch, and lots of tea, my weekly blog post is complete. I sent it out, hoping for maybe a thousand views by the end of the week. I don’t look at the post until tea time, deciding to have a quick look whilst I wait for the pasta to finish cooking. The numbers on the screen almost cause me to drop my phone in surprise, my blog post has ten thousand views!

Just then my flatmate returns home for the day, I’m not ready to distribute my success yet so I pocket my phone. “Hey Isobel, how was your research?” I ask politely, she’s working on writing a book, not that she’ll tell me what it’s about, she’s a very secretive person.

“It was alright.” She answers back, “what’s for dinner?”

“Pasta” I told her.

She groans, “not again.”

I apologise to her, “it’s the only thing I know how to cook.”

We sit and eat in near silence. “So,” I say as we finish our food, “I wrote another blog post today.”

Isobel sighs, “I still think you need to focus more on your actual job rather than that silly blog.

I let her comment slide, smirking as I show her the numbers on my phone.

“Okay, I’ll admit that’s pretty good, but it’s just a one off, I don’t mean to be a downer but you’re struggling to pay rent as it is without spending money on new outfits to write about.”

“Whatever” I say annoyed, going off to my room.

Lying on my bed I start scrolling through comments, usually I only get one or two but on this post there are over twenty. Most of the comments are cute little compliments about myself or my outfit, the last one however is a man requesting me to message him privately. At first I thought it was probably just some pervert, but then again it could be someone from a magazine wanting to offer me a job, if it was a pervert I could just block him anyway. I sent a simple message, ‘Hi, you wanted to speak to me?’ Not expecting a reply straight away.

To my surprise the reply comes within minutes. The man introduces himself as Joseph Hornwood, a talent scout for a modelling agency based in London. He tells me that he wants to take me on and that I should meet him tomorrow to build up a modelling portfolio and to see if we would be a good match.

He sends me the address and it’s not too far away.

The next day I wait until Isobel has gone to work before I get ready to meet the scout, I decide not to tell her about the meeting, wanting to surprise her when I have my portfolio made and prove that she was wrong about my blog.

I get changed into the outfit I wore for the blog as that is what Mr Hornwood wanted me to wear. I get a lot of lustful looks on the tube, which is no surprise as guys seem to Love heels, leather and petite girls. Fortunately the tube journey is pretty uneventful and before long I find myself staring up at the building where Mr Hornwood lives, it’s one of the largest skyscrapers in the city, I type in Mr Hornwood’s flat number on a keypad built into the wall next to the door. It begins to ring and moments later a male voice answers.

“Ah Evie, please come up.” He says cheerfully, recognising me through the camera set up above the door.

The door buzzes and opens and I step inside. The building’s lobby is quite fancy, far too fancy for the flat of a modelling talent scout I think to myself, suddenly a little anxious.

I steel my nerves and step into the lift, tapping Mr Hornwood’s flat number into the keypad.

Inside the elevator I find myself trembling slightly from nerves, at this point I’ve convinced myself that the man can’t really be a modelling scout, but I’ve come too far to back away now, I need to find out who he really is.

The elevator comes to a smooth stop and I get out, judging from how long the elevator ride was I figure that I must be pretty high up.

The door slides open and I find myself in a short hallway with only one door at the end of it. I ring the buzzer and wait.

Within moments the door opened, “good morning.” Mr Hornwood says with a smile.

I nearly fall down where I stand, I recognise Mr Hornwood immediately, he’s no model scout, he’s the CEO and founder of Hornwood Industries, one of the most powerful companies in the world, they make and sell all sorts of technology, including mobile phones. And not only is he insanely rich but he’s also incredibly Hot, mid-thirties, dark skin, toned muscles and a perfect face. He’s at least 13 years older than me (and over a foot taller!) but I really don’t care with looks that good.

“Please come in,” he says casually.

Fortunately my legs still work because my brain is frozen in shock. I stagger into his penthouse apartment, just about managing to put one foot in front of the other.

“I guess I should explain things.” He says in his smooth, deep voice, handing me a cup of tea, “I read in one of your blog posts that you like tea.” He tells me.

I thought I’d misheard him, “you read my blog?” I ask, my jaw dropped.

Mr Hornwood spends the next few minutes explaining how a friend had recommended my photography services and how he had looked me up online, there he had come across my blog and that after reading a few entries he knew that he had to meet me, he also apologised for the false modelling story, “though you could definitely model” he adds with a smile.

“So, what did you want me to shoot?” I ask him, trying to sound professional.

He smiles, “well at first I was hoping to commission you for some shots of landscapes, both natural and modern to help decorate this place,” he gestures at the bare undecorated walls of the penthouse, “but after seeing you I’d like to make an additional request.”

“And what would that be?” I ask, my heart racing. “I’d like to make Love to you,” he says, a lustful tone to his voice. He places a large hand on my thigh, covering the only visible skin between my skirt and my boots.

I feel butterflies in my stomach, I can’t believe this is happening. I let out an involuntary gasp which earns me a small chuckle from Mr Hornwood. He takes my gasp as a sign to continue, he slides his hand under my leather skirt, his fingertips poking at my lace panties. I blush, knowing he can feel my sudden wetness.

Suddenly he lifts me up off the stool so that our heads are at the same height and I wrap my legs around his body. He leans in and kisses me, our lips meet and I close my eyes, fully embracing this magical moment of passion.

After a few seconds our lips part and we look at each other lustfully. I bite my lip seductively and he responds with a deep, lustful grunt before carrying me into his bedroom.

He throws me on to the bed, not too hard but just the right amount of rough to turn me on. I lean back on the pillows and watch as he unbuttons his white shirt, each undone button revealing more of his toned abs. He throws his shirt to the ground and his trousers soon follow, leaving only his underwear. Through his white underwear I could see the outline of his thick cock, it was huge! In truth I felt a little nervous about having it inside me.

“Come here” he says to me, it’s not a request, it’s a command,

I obey immediately, crawling to the end of the bed, my face now inches from his crotch, I can smell his masculinity.

“Get it out without using your hands,” he commands.

Nervously I lean forwards and grip the band of his underwear with my teeth. I manage to pull them down a little before my teeth lose their grip.

Suddenly I feel a sharp hit on my Ass, slightly painful even through my leather skirt.

“Try again,” he commands strictly.

I try again, the smack on my Ass motivating me and turning me on at the same time.

This time I succeed and his cock springs out of his underwear, it’s hefty weight smacking against my cheek as it pokes Free.

Mr Hornwood finishes pulling his underwear down and wraps his hands in my hair.

“Get it nice and wet” he instructs me, pulling my head towards his cock so that my lips are touching the tip.

It must be at least 8 inches, how the hell am I going to fit it in my mouth I think to myself.

He tugs my hair again and I obediently open my mouth, as soon as my lips part he pulls my hair again, feeding his cock into my mouth. My lips wrap tight around his shaft and the rubbery taste fills my mouth. I’ve given a few blowjobs before but I can’t remember ever giving one fully sober, nor to a cock this big.

He slides it to the back of my mouth and then lets go of my hair. “Get it nice and wet, use your tongue,” he says, resting his hands at his side. I pull my head back, sliding my tongue along his shaft. I inhale deeply, taking in his scent before I swirl my tongue over his thick head. After teasing the tip for a few moments I start to lick down the shaft, making sure I get every inch nice and wet.

“Mmm good girl,” he moans, taking my hair in his hands again. He pulls me forward, sliding his cock back into my mouth, the tip hitting the back of my mouth, he slides it out again and then back in, slowly fucking my mouth. I stay there on all fours, trying to relax my throat as his cock pokes into my throat.

Suddenly he pulls forward harder and his cock slams into my throat, making me gag. He holds it there for a few seconds before releasing my hair.

I pull myself back, drool runs down my chin as a gasp to catch my breath.

“You’ve done really well” Mr Hornwood tells me, making me blush as he strokes my hair. “Do you trust me?” He asks, looking down at me.

I nodded my head “yes sir,” he didn’t ask me to call him sir, it just felt natural.

“Good, you are naturally submissive, I like that.” He says.

“Thank you sir” I answered, happy to have pleased him.

“Sit up and close your eyes, do everything I command and I can promise you the best experience of your life.

I smile excitedly, doing as he asks.

Moments later I feel a blindfold being placed over my eyes.

Mr Hornwood rummages around the room, I can hear him opening drawers and pulling things out of them. I feel his hand push against my perky 32b breasts, pushing me down so that I am lying on the bed.

He climbs on to the bed, his legs straddling my body, I feel his cock, resting between my breasts. He takes my left hand and wraps some kind of silky rope around my wrist before pulling it up and tying it to the bedpost. He repeats this with my right hand so that my arms are pulled aside and tied behind my head. Next he moves on to my feet, this time using a heavy, rougher rope. He wraps the rope around both of my high heel boots and then ties them to the bottom bedposts, tying down all of my limbs, leaving me at his mercy.

I feel his hand go beneath my leather skirt, his fingers grasping at the edge of my panties. I gasp suddenly as he rips away my panties, ripping them off me with his sheer strength.

He climbs on the bed again, and this time I know that he is gonna take me, my body shivers in anticipation, my Pussy aching to be used. He lifts up my skirt and I feel the tip of his cock pressing against my slit. Not being able to see just builds up my anticipation as I wait for him to press forward and slide it into me.

The moment he enters me is incredible, I feel his thick manhood slide in and I gasp as he stretches me.

“So tight,” he grunts, sliding out for a moment before pushing back in. As he thrusts in and out my Pussy stretches to accommodate him and it quickly becomes more pleasurable than painful. He picks up speed, his cock pistoning in and out. I grip the silk rope in my hands and I feel my toes curl inside my high heel thigh high boots as I let out a soft, orgasmic moan as waves of pleasure roll through my body.

Moments later I hear him grunt as he cums inside me, his Hot seed deep in my Pussy.

“Mm yes,” he moans “you’re going to be a fantastic little pet, I can’t wait to train you properly and use you in all sorts of sexy outfits.”