Elena's POV
I was already awake before my alarm went off at 6 AM, my heart a drumbeat of happy anticipation. It was Saturday. The day Draven Sterling was finally going to give me a chance.
The memory of his softened voice, "We have something very important to talk about in the morning" had played on repeat for the past two hours. He hadn't sent me away with a cold command, he had given me a promise.
The stage, the brand, the empire. I had done my due diligence, maintaining flawless, quiet discipline for two months, and he had seen past the club dancer, past the housemaid, and recognized the fierce ambition I had laid bare before him.
I dressed in my usual pristine maid uniform, a stark black dress and a small white apron, but today, the uniform felt like a temporary costume. I was early, quiet, and efficient, finishing my morning duties by 7:30 AM, setting his breakfast precisely, and then heading to the foyer to wait.
At five minutes to eight, the sound of Draven's door opening sent a bolt of electricity through me.
He descended the grand staircase, dressed not in the relaxed clothes of a man enjoying his weekend, but in a crisp, dark suit for business. His face was a mask of cold neutrality, revealing nothing of the conversation to come.
He saw me standing near the bottom of the stairs, waiting with an eagerness I couldn't quite hide.
"Punctual," he observed, his voice flat. "Good. That's a start."
"Good morning, sir," I replied, my voice filled with a hopeful energy. "I'm ready to talk whenever you are."
He walked past me and headed toward his private study, the room where he conducted the most important business of Sterling Holdings. "Now," he commanded, without looking back. "Follow me."
My stomach fluttered. The study. This was not a maid's conversation. This was a meeting about my future.
He sat behind his massive mahogany desk, the room's sheer power swallowing the sunlight. He didn't gesture for me to sit. I stood before him, my hands clasped tightly.
He reached into a sleek, locked drawer and pulled out a portfolio of documents. It was thin, black leather, and looked ruinously expensive.
"Last two months, you said you were willing to do anything for your empire, Elena," he began, his voice dropping to the low, absolute tone I'd first heard at the club. "You've proven your discipline as a housemaid. Now, we move to the next phase."
"Yes, sir. I'm ready," I managed, trying to keep the gratitude from overwhelming my voice.
He didn't smile. He simply slid the portfolio across the desk. It stopped inches from my hands, its presence radiating immense, terrifying gravity.
"The housemaid role is terminated," he stated. "The time for games is over. This is a Bargain. The terms are non-negotiable."
"I've arranged your initial entry into the industry," Draven continued, his voice crisp and professional. "You will receive a moderate sum—seed money for your preliminary collection—and I will personally introduce you to one, single industry contact who specializes in early stage brand development. This investment is entirely conditional on your performance."
I blinked. It wasn't the full empire, but it was a start, more than I could have dreamed of achieving on my own. "That's... generous, sir."
Draven scoffed, a sound devoid of humor. "It is not generous, Elena. It is a calculated risk. The full funding, the widespread connections, the CEO title you crave, that comes later, only once you have proven your absolute, unyielding obedience and worthiness to me. I do not invest in sentiment. I invest in assets that I control."
He tapped the portfolio with a long, precise finger. "Read the entire contract, Elena. It covers two distinct domains of service. Your debt is instantly cleared the moment you sign. Refuse, and the entire offer is withdrawn, your debt is reinstated, and your mother receives a letter of collection by noon."
I picked up the portfolio, my trembling fingers fumbling with the fine paper. My eyes scanned the clauses: Debt Settlement... Initial Seed Funding Disbursement... Public Role as Fiancée.
"The public role is necessary," Draven interjected, leaning forward. "I require a visually flawless partner for the upcoming merger with Continental. You will play the part of my devoted future wife. You will attend events, smile when required, and never, under any circumstances, contradict me in public."
I swallowed hard, my mind trying to process the scale of the commitment. "Understood, sir. I can do that."
But then I flipped to Attachment A. The title was stark, centered on the page: BDSM Contract and Terms of Personal Ownership.
The world tilted. The words on the page were clinical, chilling, and left no room for interpretation. The Subordinate shall be available for commands at all times. The Subordinate's time, body, and will are at the Master's absolute disposal… Physical discipline is acceptable, up to the Master's discretion...
The tears of gratitude instantly dried, leaving my eyes burning with horrified comprehension. This was not a mentorship. It was a trade of my autonomy for my ambition.
"A fiancée..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. "And a... a slave?"
Draven leaned back, his eyes finally meeting mine, and the dark hunger I had hoped for was replaced by cold, absolute control.
"You said you'd do anything, even becoming my Slave, Elena. I am defining the terms of anything," he stated. "You see this as a high price. I see it as a necessary containment measure. Are you not a woman of your words? Your ambition is a liability that I must neutralize through absolute control. The only way you prove your worthiness for the final, full investment is through total, unquestioning submission to every word I utter. You get your start. I get my satisfaction and my control. This is the ruthless bargain."
He pushed a simple gold pen across the desk. "The choice is yours. A lifetime of cleaning floors, or a chance at an empire, purchased with your obedience."
I looked at the pen. The silver, the black of the contract, and the cold calculation in his eyes were a tableau of my downfall. My beautiful dream had been weaponized against me.
I snatched the pen. My hand didn't tremble. He thinks he controls the game, I thought, my fear finally crystallizing into a cold, dangerous resolve. He will see my ambition first.
I signed my name on the contract and then, separately, on the BDSM Contract, feeling the finality of the ink.
Draven watched me, his lips barely twitching in a satisfied, predatory smile. He collected the papers with crisp efficiency.
"Good girl," he said, the words a chilling benediction. He stood, his dark suit dominating the space before the desk. "The paperwork is complete. Now, the service begins. Your ambition is now officially bonded to my authority."
He looked down at me now standing before him, a simple, non-negotiable command already on his tongue.
The command hung in the air, heavy and absolute, twisting the shame in my stomach into a tight, cold knot of terror and acceptance. "I want you on your knees, Subordinate. Prove the validity of this contract with the absolute, unquestioning display of your submission here and now."
His words were a quiet order, final and absolute.
I dropped to my knees on the cold marble floor. I reached up, my trembling hands finding the cold, silver buckle of his belt. The metallic click echoed too loudly in the study.
I undid his belt, then the button, the zipper. His legs spread open shoulder width apart. I pushed his jeans and boxers down about to his mid thigh. My whole hand was now wrapped around his cock stroking it as he was staring into my eyes. I dropped into a squatting position in front of him. I pull his cock downwards towards the floor with one hand so that it extends its longest. My other hand was clinched on his ass. My tongue began to lick and circle the head of his cock as I held it firmly.
He then engulf all of him into my mouth. Taking me deep to the point of gagging. He let out a loud moan when I put one of his balls into my mouth. I swished it around inside my mouth, and then I switched to the other one whilst continuing to stroke his thighs with my hands. He started breathing harder when, with some effort, I managed to put both his balls into my mouth at once. I continued, tenderly licking his balls while warming them up with my hot mouth. I used my tongue to move them around; my lips were completely enveloping his entire sack, right up to the root of his cock. My hands began to stroke his cock.
"Oh, oh," he moaned!"
He didn't seem capable of saying much else. I liked that; turning him on so much he couldn't say much more. Who's in control now?!
I removed his balls from my mouth and licked his shaft with the tip of my tongue. Starting at the root, I worked my way up to the sensitive underside of his cock, right under the head. I gave that area some licks and then teased him a bit with some long slow licks up and down the shaft. When I knew he needed more direct stimulation, I finally put my lips around the whole head of his cock and started to gently suck him off. Fondling his balls with my hand, I slowly lowered my mouth over his entire organ, eventually getting it deep inside my mouth.
My mouth was starting to get a little tired so I stopped for a second. I slowly bobbed my head up and down his groin, getting my hands behind him and squeezing his buttocks. I could hear his breathing getting heavier; I knew he was deeply enjoying his blowjob.
"Oh, oh, that feels so good..." he moaned.
I loved that I'd turned him from a demanding alpha male to someone I now had complete control over!
I returned to his cock, sucking it like a slut in heat. I made sexual sounds to excite him; years of watching blowjob porn had taught me that men love hearing erotic moans during a blow job.
"Oh...I'm going to come soon. I can't hold it much longer..."
I didn't answer him verbally; I just sucked him faster and made moaning noises as I prepared to finish him off. My pace and intensity grew with each trip up and down his organ; I made loud slurping and sucking sounds with my mouth. His cock was rock hard and throbbing; I could feel it shaking. I visualized the hot white cum loaded up in his balls getting ready to cum hard.
"OH! Fuck! OHHHHH!" the contractions began, and his erection flexed. I focused the muscles of my mouth and tongue intently on the head of his dick while tightening my grip around his balls. I felt the pre-cum that I had been tasting throughout the blowjob start to drip out even more.
Then the explosion came.
This was a very intense rush. I bobbed my head up and down and forced myself to quickly swallow it up, not wanting to lose a drop. He grabbed my head tightly, but I didn't mind, I knew his orgasm was intense and he needed something to grip onto.
A guttural sound escaped Draven. It wasn't a word, but a rough, involuntary gasp of satisfaction, a raw slip of control that vibrated through the air, signaling the absolute effectiveness of my performance.
Just as the tension peaked, a low, involuntary sound of distress escaped my throat, a small, choked whimper of humiliation. Draven's hand shot out. His touch was cold and commanding as he clamped onto my jaw, tilting my head up sharply, interrupting the act.
"No tears, Elena," he stated, his voice a low, rough growl. "Tears are for victims. You are a bargainer. You are ambitious. You chose this. If you shed even one tear, if you display one moment of hesitation or weakness, I will know you are a lie, and the contract is void. Your family will pay your debt."
A lie. The word galvanized me. I swallowed the emotion, my eyes burning with fierce, steely resolve. I couldn't fail the test. I suppressed the rising tide of bile and humiliation and forced myself to focus, meeting his gaze with a cold, dry defiance that only I could see.
Draven watched me, looking for the break. When he saw none, when my expression solidified into a mask of pure, desperate determination, he gave a single, slow nod, a gesture of cold satisfaction. He released my jaw.
Draven adjusted his clothes with the quick, efficient movements of a man who had simply concluded a necessary piece of business. He looked down at me, his eyes assessing.
"The first command is complete," he stated. "You have proven your word is true and your ambition outweighs your shame. That is a valuable trait, Subordinate. You have passed the initial test of worthiness."
He reached down, taking my trembling hand in his. His grasp was not gentle; it was proprietary. He pulled me up, my knees weak from the cold marble and the emotional violence of the exchange.
"You will be given the employee suite on the second floor," he continued, his voice returning to the detached cadence of a CEO. "You have three hours to prepare. You will be seated beside me at dinner. You will act the part of my girlfriend. Do not forget the rules, Elena. You are my contract, and I demand perfection."
He looked at me one last time. "Welcome to the Sterling Estate, Elena. Your first public performance begins at eight."