Chapter Twenty-Four: The Client
Leena moved through the downward dog with practiced ease, her breathing steady and controlled. The morning sun streamed through Rider's floor-to-ceiling windows, warming her skin.
She'd been staying here for three weeks now. Long enough that she had a routine. Yoga in the morning. Coffee. Wait for Rider's instructions.
Her phone buzzed on the mat beside her.
She held the pose for another breath before transitioning to child's pose, then reached for the phone.
Rider:2847 Oakmont Drive. Be there at 2pm. Wear the black dress I bought you. Hair down. Minimal makeup. Don't be late.
Leena read the message twice. No explanation. No context.
She typed back: What is this?
The response came immediately: You'll see. Trust me.
Leena set the phone down and returned to her mat. But her focus was gone. She went through the motions—cat-cow, cobra, warrior—but her mind was elsewhere.
2847 Oakmont Drive.
She knew that area. Old money. Estates hidden behind gates and hedges.
Wear the black dress.
The one that hugged every curve. The one that left nothing to the imagination.
Leena finished her practice and showered. She told herself she wasn't nervous. This was just another thing Rider wanted her to do. Another test, maybe. Another way to prove herself.
She'd passed every test so far.
------------------------------------------------
The black dress fit perfectly. Leena studied herself in the mirror, turning to see the way it clung to her hips, the way the neckline dipped low enough to be suggestive without being obscene.
She looked expensive. Polished. Like something that could be bought.
The thought should have bothered her. A month ago, it would have.
Now it just felt true.
She arrived at 2847 Oakmont Drive at 1:55pm.
The house was massive—a modern estate set back from the road, surrounded by manicured lawns and tall hedges. The gate was wrought iron, ornate, intimidating.
Leena pressed the intercom button.
"Name?" A woman's voice, crisp and professional.
"Leena. I'm here to see—"
"Come in."
The gate swung open.
Leena drove up the long driveway, her heart beating faster with each passing second. The house loomed ahead—all glass and steel and sharp angles.
She parked near the entrance and got out.
The front door opened before she could knock.
Rider stood there, dressed in a tailored suit, his expression unreadable.
"Right on time," he said. "Good girl."
"What is this?" Leena asked.
"Come inside."
He led her through a marble foyer into a sitting room that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Everything was white and chrome and expensive.
"Sit," Rider said, gesturing to a leather chair.
Leena sat. Rider remained standing, his hands in his pockets.
"The man who owns this house is named Marcus Whitmore," Rider began. "He's the CEO of Whitmore Industries. They're one of the largest manufacturing firms on the West Coast."
Leena waited.
"My firm has been courting his business for six months. We're close to landing a contract worth eight figures. But Marcus is... particular. He likes to be sure he's working with people who understand his needs."
"What does that have to do with me?"
Rider smiled. "Marcus has certain tastes. And he's expressed interest in meeting you."
Leena's stomach tightened. "Meeting me."
"Yes."
"For what?"
"To satisfy him." Rider's tone was matter-of-fact, like he was discussing a business lunch. "If you do well, he'll sign the contract. And he'll pay you for your time."
Leena stared at him. "You want me to fuck him."
"I want you to give him what he wants. Whatever that is."
"And if I say no?"
Rider's expression didn't change. "Then you say no. But I think you'll say yes."
"Why?"
"Because you're good at this. Because you like it. And because you want to prove you can handle anything I ask of you."
Leena's pulse was racing. She should be angry. Should be horrified. Should walk out right now.
But Rider was right.
She wanted to prove herself. Wanted to show him she could do this.
"How much?" she asked.
"Five thousand."
Leena's breath caught. "For one night?"
"For a few hours. Marcus is a busy man."
She looked down at her hands. They were trembling slightly.
"What does he want?"
"You'll find out." Rider stepped closer, his hand tilting her chin up. "You can do this, Leena. I know you can."
"What if I can't?"
"You can." His thumb brushed her lower lip. "You're mine. And I don't let my things fail."
The possessiveness in his voice should have repulsed her. Instead, it steadied her.
"Okay," she said quietly.
"Good girl." Rider kissed her forehead. "He's waiting in the basement. I'll take you down."
------------------------------------------------
The basement was nothing like Leena expected.
It wasn't dark or dingy. It was pristine—white walls, recessed lighting, polished concrete floors. And in the center of the room was a bed. King-sized, draped in black silk.
The walls were lined with equipment. Restraints. Paddles. Whips. Gags. Blindfolds. Things Leena didn't have names for.
Her mouth went dry.
Marcus Whitmore stood near the bed. He was older—mid-fifties, maybe—with silver hair and sharp features. He wore slacks and a dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He looked at Leena the way someone might appraise a car.
"She's perfect," Marcus said to Rider. "You weren't exaggerating."
"I never do." Rider's hand rested on the small of Leena's back. "Leena, this is Marcus. Marcus, Leena."
Marcus extended a hand. Leena shook it. His grip was firm, confident.
"Rider tells me you're new to this," Marcus said.
"To... this?" Leena gestured vaguely at the room.
"To being paid for your time."
"Yes."
"But not new to submission."
Leena hesitated. "No."
Marcus smiled. "Good. That makes things easier." He turned to Rider. "You can go. Enjoy yourself upstairs. There's a maid—Sophia. She's very accommodating."
Rider nodded. "Take your time."
He left without looking back.
The door clicked shut.
Leena was alone with Marcus.
"Nervous?" he asked.
"A little."
"Don't be. I'm not going to hurt you. Not unless you want me to." He moved closer, circling her slowly. "Do you know what a safeword is?"
"Yes."
"What's yours?"
"Red."
"Good. If you say red, everything stops. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Then let's begin." Marcus stopped in front of her. "Strip."
Leena's hands moved to the zipper of her dress. She pulled it down slowly, letting the fabric slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet.
She stood in her bra and panties—black lace, matching, expensive.
"All of it," Marcus said.
Leena unhooked her bra and let it fall. Then her panties.
She stood naked, her skin prickling under his gaze.
"Beautiful," Marcus murmured. He reached out and traced a finger down her sternum, between her breasts, over her stomach. "Rider has excellent taste."
His hand moved lower, cupping her between her legs. Leena gasped.
"Already wet," Marcus said, his tone approving. "You like this, don't you? Being looked at. Being touched."
"Yes," Leena whispered.
"Good." He withdrew his hand and moved to the wall, examining the array of implements. "We're going to take our time. I have you for the afternoon. No rushing."
He selected a pair of leather cuffs first. "Hands behind your back."
Leena obeyed. Marcus fastened the cuffs around her wrists, the leather snug but not painful. He tested the restraints, making sure they were secure.
"How does that feel?"
"Tight."
"But not painful?"
"No."
"Good. If anything becomes too much, you use your safeword. Understood?"
"Yes."
Marcus walked around her again, his fingers trailing over her shoulders, down her spine. "You have a beautiful body. I'm going to enjoy marking it."
Leena's breath caught.
He moved to the wall again and selected a riding crop—sleek black leather with a small rectangular tip.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
"A crop."
"Have you been struck with one before?"
"No."
"Then we'll start gently." He tapped the crop against his palm. "I want you to count. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Bend over. Keep your legs straight."
Leena bent at the waist, her bound hands making it difficult to balance. Marcus steadied her with one hand on her lower back.
"Stay still."
The first strike landed on her right ass cheek. It wasn't hard—more of a tap—but the sting was immediate.
"One," Leena said.
The second strike landed on her left cheek. Slightly harder.
"Two."
Marcus continued, alternating sides, gradually increasing the force. By the tenth strike, Leena was breathing hard, her skin burning.
"Ten," she gasped.
"Stand up."
Leena straightened. Her ass throbbed, the heat spreading through her body.
Marcus ran his hand over the marks, his touch gentle. "You're doing well. How do you feel?"
"It hurts."
"But do you like it?"
Leena hesitated. "Yes."
"I thought so." His hand slipped between her legs again. "You're even wetter now."
He was right. The pain had intensified everything—her arousal, her awareness of her body, the way her pulse hammered in her throat.
"On your knees," Marcus said.
Leena knelt, the carpet soft beneath her.
Marcus stood in front of her, unbuckling his belt. "Open your mouth."
Leena parted her lips.
He guided his cock to her mouth, sliding in slowly. Leena closed her eyes, focusing on the weight of him, the taste, the rhythm.
"Eyes open," Marcus commanded. "Look at me."
She looked up. His expression was calm, controlled, watching her with clinical precision.
"Good girl," he said. "Take it deeper."
Leena relaxed her throat, taking him as deep as she could. Her eyes watered. She gagged slightly, but Marcus didn't pull back.
"That's it. Just like that."
He fucked her mouth slowly, his hand tangling in her hair. Leena's jaw ached, but she didn't stop. Didn't pull away.
After a few minutes, Marcus withdrew. "Stand."
Leena stood, her legs unsteady.
Marcus led her to the bed. "Lie down. On your back."
She lay down, her cuffed hands trapped beneath her, pressing into her lower back.
Marcus moved to the wall again, this time selecting a blindfold and a ball gag.
"Open," he said, holding up the gag.
Leena opened her mouth. Marcus fastened the gag in place, the ball pressing against her tongue, forcing her jaw wide. Then he secured the blindfold over her eyes.
Darkness.
Leena's breathing quickened. She couldn't see. Couldn't speak. Couldn't move her hands.
She was completely at his mercy.
"Relax," Marcus's voice came from somewhere to her left. "I'm going to touch you now. Just feel."
His hands moved over her body—her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Slow, deliberate, mapping every inch of her.
Then something cold pressed against her nipple. Leena jerked, a muffled sound escaping around the gag.
"Ice," Marcus said. "Just ice."
He traced the ice cube over her breast, circling her nipple until it hardened into a tight peak. Then he moved to the other breast, repeating the process.
Leena's body arched involuntarily, her skin hypersensitive.
The ice moved lower—down her stomach, over her hip, between her thighs.
Leena moaned into the gag.
"You're dripping," Marcus observed. "I think you like this more than you're willing to admit."
The ice pressed against her clit. Leena's hips bucked, her thighs trembling.
Marcus chuckled. "So responsive."
The ice disappeared. For a moment, there was nothing. Just silence and darkness and anticipation.
Then something else—something warm and wet—replaced it.
His tongue.
Leena cried out, the sound muffled by the gag. Marcus's tongue moved over her clit in slow, deliberate circles, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place.
She couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't do anything but feel.
The pleasure built quickly, overwhelming, relentless. Leena's body tensed, her back arching off the bed.
And then she came, the orgasm crashing through her in waves.
Marcus didn't stop. He kept licking, kept sucking, drawing out every last tremor until Leena was shaking and gasping.
Finally, he pulled back.
"Good girl," he said. "But we're not done yet."
He removed the blindfold but left the gag in place. Leena blinked against the light, her vision adjusting.
Marcus was selecting something else from the wall—a leather paddle, wider than the crop, with a smooth surface.
"Roll over," he said. "On your stomach."
Leena rolled, her bound hands now pressed against her lower back, her face turned to the side.
"This is going to hurt more than the crop," Marcus said. "But I think you can take it."
The first strike of the paddle landed hard across both ass cheeks. Leena's body jerked, a muffled cry escaping around the gag.
The second strike landed in the same spot. Then the third.
Marcus didn't ask her to count this time. He just struck her, over and over, the paddle landing with sharp cracks that echoed through the room.
Leena's eyes watered. Her ass burned, the pain radiating through her entire body. But underneath the pain was something else—a deep, throbbing arousal that intensified with each strike.
After what felt like an eternity, Marcus stopped. He ran his hand over her ass, his touch gentle despite the brutality of what he'd just done.
"You're marked beautifully," he said. "Red and swollen. I bet you can feel every strike."
Leena could. Her skin felt like it was on fire.
Marcus's fingers slipped between her legs. "And you're soaking wet."
Leena couldn't answer with the gag in place, but her body answered for her. She was trembling, desperate, aching for more.
"Roll back over," Marcus said.
Leena obeyed, wincing as her sore ass pressed against the bed.
Marcus removed the gag. Leena gasped, her jaw aching.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"I—" Leena's voice was hoarse. "I don't know."
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to stop?"
Leena hesitated. She should say yes. Should use her safeword. Should end this before it went any further.
But she didn't want to stop.
"No," she whispered.
Marcus smiled.
He moved to the wall again, this time selecting a thin cane—flexible, menacing.
"This is going to leave marks," he said. "Welts. They'll last for days. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"And you still want to continue?"
"Yes."
"Then spread your legs."
Leena spread her legs, exposing herself completely.
Marcus tapped the cane against her inner thigh. "Stay still."
The first strike landed across her thigh. Leena cried out, the pain sharp and immediate.
The second strike landed on the other thigh.
Marcus worked methodically, striking her thighs, her stomach, the underside of her breasts. Each strike left a thin red line that burned and throbbed.
By the time he finished, Leena was sobbing—not from pain, but from the overwhelming intensity of it all.
"Shh," Marcus said, setting the cane aside. "You did so well. So, so well."
He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs. "I'm going to fuck you now. And you're going to take it. Understood?"
Leena nodded, unable to speak.
Marcus pushed inside her in one smooth thrust. Leena's eyes rolled back, a moan tearing from her throat.
He set a brutal pace—hard, deep, unrelenting. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
Leena's hands strained against the cuffs, her body rocking with each thrust. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through her marked skin, but the pain only intensified the pleasure.
Marcus's hand moved to her throat, gripping lightly. "You're mine right now. Do you understand? For the next few hours, you belong to me."
Leena nodded frantically.
"Good." His grip tightened slightly. "Come for me. I want to feel you come on my cock."
The combination of his words, his hand on her throat, the relentless pounding—it was too much.
Leena came again, her body convulsing, her vision going white.
Marcus groaned but didn't come. He pulled out and flipped her over onto her stomach.
"On your knees. Ass up."
Leena struggled into position, her bound hands making it difficult. Marcus helped her, positioning her exactly how he wanted.
He entered her from behind, the new angle even deeper. Leena buried her face in the mattress, muffling her cries.
Marcus fucked her hard, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into the bruises he'd already left. The pain and pleasure blurred together until Leena couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
"Touch yourself," Marcus commanded. "I want you to come again."
Leena couldn't reach with her hands bound, so Marcus reached around and found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to thrust.
"Come," he growled. "Now."
Leena came with a scream, her entire body shaking.
This time, Marcus came with her, his cock pulsing inside her as he groaned her name.
They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard.
Finally, Marcus pulled out and helped her lie down on her side. He unfastened the cuffs, and Leena gasped as blood rushed back into her hands.
"How do you feel?" Marcus asked, his tone gentle now.
"I—" Leena couldn't find words. Her body was a mess of pain and pleasure, her mind foggy and distant.
"You did beautifully," Marcus said. He stood and moved to a small refrigerator in the corner, returning with a bottle of water. "Drink."
Leena drank, the cold water soothing her raw throat.
Marcus examined her body, his fingers tracing the marks he'd left. "You're going to be sore for days. The welts will fade, but the bruises will last longer."
"Okay," Leena whispered.
"Do you regret it?"
Leena thought about the question. She should regret it. Should be horrified by what she'd just done, what she'd let him do to her.
But she wasn't.
"No," she said.
Marcus smiled. "Good. Because we're not done yet."
Leena's eyes widened. "What?"
"I have you for the afternoon, remember? We've only been at this for an hour."
------------------------------------------------
The next two hours were a blur.
Marcus took his time, alternating between pain and pleasure, between tenderness and brutality.
He used a flogger—soft leather strands that stung but didn't cut. He used his hands, spanking her until her ass was a deep, angry red. He used his mouth, bringing her to orgasm over and over until she was begging him to stop.
But she never used her safeword.
At some point, Leena stopped thinking. Stopped analyzing. Stopped trying to rationalize what was happening.
She just felt.
And it was the most freeing thing she'd ever experienced.
Marcus fucked her in every position—on her back, on her stomach, on her knees, bent over the bed, pressed against the wall. He was relentless, demanding, taking everything she had to give.
And Leena gave it willingly.
By the time he finally finished, Leena was exhausted. Her body was covered in marks—welts, bruises, bite marks, scratches. She could barely move.
Marcus helped her to the bathroom, running a warm bath and helping her into it.
"Soak," he said. "It'll help with the soreness."
Leena sank into the water, wincing as it touched her marked skin. But after a moment, the warmth began to soothe her.
Marcus sat on the edge of the tub, watching her. "You surprised me."
"How?"
"I didn't think you'd last. Most women tap out after the first hour."
"I'm not most women."
Marcus smiled. "No. You're not."
After the bath, Marcus helped her dress. Her movements were slow, careful, every muscle protesting.
When she was ready, Marcus moved to the dresser and pulled out an envelope.
"Twenty thousand," he said, handing it to her. "Consider the extra a tip."
Leena took the envelope, her hands shaking.
"I'd like to see you again," Marcus continued. "If you're available."
Leena looked at him. At this man who had just spent hours hurting her, using her, marking her.
And she realized she wanted to see him again too.
"I'll have to check with Rider," she said.
"Of course." Marcus smiled.
------------------------------------------------
Leena dressed slowly, her body sore and exhausted. When she was ready, Marcus led her back upstairs.
They found Rider in one of the guest rooms.
He was fucking a maid—a young woman with dark hair and wide eyes. She was bent over the bed, her uniform hiked up around her waist, Rider's hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her.
The maid's moans filled the room.
Rider glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Leena. Perfect timing. We're just finishing up."
He thrust a few more times, then groaned, his body tensing as he came. The maid collapsed onto the bed, gasping.
Rider pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants. "How'd it go?"
"She was perfect," Marcus said. "I'll be calling you about that contract."
"Excellent." Rider clapped him on the shoulder. "Pleasure doing business with you."
They left the house together, Rider's hand resting possessively on Leena's lower back.
"You did good," he said as they walked to the car. "I'm proud of you."
Leena didn't respond. She was too tired. Too overwhelmed.
She clutched the envelope in her hand and stared out the window as Rider drove.
------------------------------------------------
Hela was waiting when they got back.
She was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed, her expression stormy.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
"Business," Rider said casually, tossing his keys onto the counter.
"Business." Hela's eyes flicked to Leena. "With her."
"Yes."
"You took her to a client."
"Yes."
"Why her?" Hela stood, her voice rising. "Why not me? I've been doing this for years, Rider. I know how to handle clients. I know how to close deals."
"Hela—"
"No. Don't 'Hela' me. You've been pushing me aside ever since she showed up. I'm not stupid. I see what's happening."
Rider's expression hardened. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm being realistic. You're replacing me."
"I'm not replacing you. I'm expanding."
"Bullshit." Hela's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "You're obsessed with her. You barely look at me anymore."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" Hela turned to Leena. "Do you even realize what you've done? You've destroyed a marriage. Destroyed your own. And now you're destroying this."
Leena opened her mouth, but no words came out.
"Enough," Rider said sharply. "Hela, go to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow."
"Fuck you," Hela spat. She stormed past them, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
Rider sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "She'll get over it."
Leena wasn't so sure.
"Go shower," Rider said. "You've had a long day."
Leena nodded and headed to the bathroom.
As the water ran over her, washing away the sweat and the evidence of what she'd done, she thought about Hela's words.
You've destroyed a marriage. Destroyed your own. And now you're destroying this.
It was true.
But Leena couldn't bring herself to care.
She'd made twenty thousand dollars today. She'd proven herself. She'd felt powerful.
And that was all that mattered.
------------------------------------------------
Jack found out about Leena's new "career" from an unexpected source.
He was at a work function—a networking event that Bella told him to go to that'd he'd been dreading—when he overheard two men talking.
"Did you hear about Ronald Chen's new girl? Apparently she's incredible. Worth every penny."
"How much?"
"Five grand a night. But from what I hear, she's worth it."
Jack's blood ran cold. He moved closer, pretending to look at his phone.
"What's her name?"
"I don't know. But she's married. Or was married. Some insurance guy's wife. Rider set the whole thing up."
Jack felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
He left the event immediately, drove home, and called Bella.
"I need to know the truth," he said when she answered. "Is Leena... is she sleeping with men for money?"
Bella was quiet for a long moment. "Yes."
"How long have you known?"
"A few weeks. I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't know how to tell you."
"How many men?"
"I don't know. But Ronald is one of them. And there are others."
Jack felt sick. "Rider set this up."
"Yes. He's using her to cultivate business relationships. It's disgusting, but it's working. He's landed several major contracts in the past month."
"And Leena is okay with this?"
"I think... I think she's convinced herself it's empowering. That she's in control. But Jack, she's not. Rider is controlling her. Manipulating her. And she can't see it."
Jack closed his eyes. "Just how far is she willing to go?"