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His Will, My Desire #1 - Intrigue Page 3
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Being Driven back to London, Victoria wondered when the next time she would see Phillip would be. With any luck, she would be back in London for further training within the month as she had another modeling assignment already booked in the city.
The space between her legs was still feeling as if he, Lord Philip, was still inside her. Just thinking about it made her begin to get wet again. She had no idea what the next challenge in her submissive training would be, and if she had known at that time, she might have thought better of it; but at that moment, she felt encapsulated with the seeming essence of him still inside her.
As the car drove down winding countryside roads, she looked back at Philip's mansion, fading into the distance, and dismissed a nagging sense of unease that suddenly rose up to her awareness...
To be Near Him
The plane banked lazily and began its final descent into Heathrow airport. Milan had been dull, thought Victoria, but having been there countless times before, it was nothing new for her after all. Her modeling assignments frequently took her to the city. But it had been almost a month since she had signed her slave contract with Phillip Claringdale, and the same amount of time she hadn't seen or heard from him. She wondered if the billionaire had grown tired of her after that one initiation as his slave. It seemed quite ridiculous that he would have gone to all that trouble to meet her and then... 'nothing'. No phone calls, no messages, no contact whatsoever. That had been what made Milan so boring, she realized, it was the fact that she spent most days just thinking about her master, Lord Philip, and wishing he was with her to give her the further training he had promised. She had tried to contact him several times, but his butler, Perkins, had always told her he was unavailable. Victoria wondered if he had already found another 'play thing', if that was what she was. She'd even deliberately bought a ridiculously expensive diamond ring with the credit card he'd given her, just to get his attention, or some reaction at least. Yet, nothing; no reaction, no repercussions, or even an angry phone call. She had considered buying something else even more expensive, but she knew it was pointless. Philip Claringdale was just one of those kinds of men who couldn't be moved until he decided he wanted to be.
Knowing there would no doubt be some paparazzi waiting for her at Heathrow, she had called her long-time model friend Cindy to pick her up, and she'd arranged to stay with her for a few nights. Victoria often stayed at Cindy's Knightsbridge apartment whenever she had something on her mind, and now she most definitely had a lot on her mind. She wondered if she'd just been played for a fool by the billionaire. She was a successful woman in her own right, and it cut her deep that any man would think so little of her, to then ignore her for a whole month, especially after she had submitted to his will so conclusively. Famous men had courted her, successful men had wooed her, so who did this Philip Claringdale think he was to ignore her for a whole month, she wondered.
Putting her shades on and pulling her baseball cap down over her face in a vain attempt to disguise her appearance - which was difficult bearing in mind her figure and her generally elegant way of moving - she passed through passport checks and picked up her bags. Going through customs, she paused before going out into the arrivals hall, bracing herself for the inevitable throng of photographers and autograph hunters. They were always there, someone always tipped them off. It was one of the downsides of being famous. Victoria took a deep breath and walked out, holding her head down, but after a few paces noticed there were no camera flashes, nor any screaming of her name. Thinking for the first time ever, that her disguise had somehow miraculously worked, she kept mentally willing everyone there to not recognize her.
“Hey! Victoria!” She heard a voice cry out.
“Damn!” She thought, “busted!”
Looking up though, she realized it was Cindy, waving at her frantically from behind the barrier. Victoria had always envied Cindy for the fact that she was successful in her career, but not so successful that she had to hide her face everywhere she went. Whenever Victoria needed someone to do something privately, she could always rely on Cindy being discreet, because although beautiful, she was anonymous. Victoria always paid Cindy back in kind, by making sure Cindy got into all the best places, and met all the right people. It worked for both of them.
“Is it just you?” Asked Victoria, looking around nervously, “Where are all the photographers?”
“Ya, I've been wondering that too since I got here.” Cindy said, taking one of Victoria's bags for her.
Walking away from the crowds of people waiting for their loved ones, a tall man wearing black suddenly approached the pair.
“Victoria... ” Began the man,
“I'm sorry, I don't have a pen with me and we're really in a rush.” Victoria quickly said, thinking the man was trying to get her autograph, and hoping to get away quick.
“Sorry, you misunderstand, I'm here to take you directly to Claringdale mansion, under direct orders from Lord Claringdale.”
Victoria was taken-aback, and realized this wasn't something Cindy should be hearing. Telling a confused looking Cindy to wait there, Victoria pulled the man to the side.
“What are you talking about? I can't go, I've already arranged to stay with my friend.”
The truth was, Victoria wanted to go, but “screw him!” One month and no contact, well he could damn well wait, she decided.
“Lord Claringdale will be most displeased if I do not come back with you.” The driver said, his brow furrowed.
“I don't care if he's displeased. You can tell him from me I'm also displeased. With him!” Victoria told him firmly, but tried to keep her voice down lest she attract attention to herself. But she was angry, angry at Philip Claringdale for thinking he could just pick up where he left off, after having neglected her for so long. Walking away from the man, leaving him standing there, Victoria returned to Cindy and latched onto her arm and dragged her off to pick up Cindy's car.
Victoria had been silent on the drive to Knightsbridge. But Cindy was curious, and several times tried asking Victoria what it was all about, and “who is Lord Claringdale?” But Victoria was tight lipped, and Cindy knew her friend better than to push it. Victoria always knew a lot of influential people anyway, it was nothing new, thought Cindy, and she just put it down to one of Victoria's many admirers being overly persistent. Victoria knew she couldn't tell Cindy about Philip, much less that she had signed a contract to be his submissive sex slave. Cindy would have blown a gasket if she knew that. Victoria also instinctively knew that letting other people know about their 'arrangement' wouldn't be what Lord Claringdale wanted, bearing in mind his close connection to the royal family. That kind of scandal could destroy him, her, and the career she'd built from scratch. She saw a picture in her mind of the front page of one of the English tabloids with the headline: 'Supermodel Shocker: Billionaire Lord Makes Supermodel His Sex Slave Plaything!'
Although she trusted Cindy, there was no point in tempting fate. The fewer people that knew about it, the better, she convinced herself. At Cindy's flat, Victoria found herself feeling relieved. Relieved that Philip hadn't forgotten her after all. She smiled inwardly, and wondered when he would contact her again. “That'll teach him.” She said to herself, imagining the look on Lord Claringdale's face when the man who had come to pick her up told him later what she'd said.
Cindy made Victoria a coffee, and told her about the new guy she was dating. Although Cindy was happy, Victoria knew by the sound of him, that he was just another ordinary guy, the same type she had been dating for so long. But not now. Now she was dating a Lord, but she'd be damned if she was going to be told what to do all the time. She was, after all, still a career woman. Lord or not, he'd better learn how to treat her in the way she'd become accustomed to.
“Well.... ” Said Cindy, suddenly interrupting Victoria's thoughts about Philip, “I'd better hit the sack. If I don't sleep enough, my skin is gonna look real bad for the show tomorrow.”
Victoria realized sh
e'd not really been listening to Cindy, and apologized,
“I'm sorry, I just have a lot on my mind recently.”
Cindy shrugged and replied,
“Ya, I can kind of see that. It's OK, never mind.” And said goodnight to Victoria, making sure she had everything she needed set-up in the spare room.
Victoria stayed up for a few hours more, just thinking about Philip. If he was true to form, she said to herself, he'd probably have her picked up the next night after the fashion show. Contenting herself with that hope, she lay down to finally sleep.
…
The fashion show went as planned. All the way through though, Victoria couldn't stop thinking about meeting Lord Claringdale afterward. She half expected him to be in the audience somewhere, but try as she might to spot him while maintaining a poker face, she couldn't. The end of the show couldn't come fast enough for her, and quickly putting her clothes on, Cindy noticed her hurrying,
“Where's the fire?”
Victoria tried to play it down,
“Oh, I just want to get out of here, you know?”
“How about we get some sushi, there's a great place in Convent Garden around the corner.” Cindy suggested.
“Well, I'm not sure, 'erm, We'll see.” Victoria picked-up her bag as she walked past Cindy, and told her over her shoulder,
“I'll meet you outside.”
Cindy really did think Victoria was acting rather strangely. “Meet you outside?” Bizarre, Cindy thought, shaking her head and pulling her tights up.
Victoria arrived outside the venue, looking across the street, and left and right down the windy London road. But he wasn't there, and no car seemed to be waiting for her. Dejected, she sighed and leaned back on the cold wall, shoulders hung low. Maybe she'd really gone too far, maybe she'd been rude, but surely he could see how wrong he was, and not her, “He must know that.” She admonished to no one but herself, and kicked a random stone on the pavement, accidentally hitting an old man walking by,
“Oh fuck, I'm sorry!” Victoria apologized, as the man tutted and carried on walking. Things were only getting worse, she thought.
Soon, Cindy arrived beside her, pulling her collars up against the wind.
“So, come on, let's go, I'm starving... or at least, as starving as a size six model is allowed to be!” She quipped, nudging Victoria in the ribs with her elbow, trying to cheer her up.
“What's wrong?” Cindy asked, seeing her joke had no effect on the long-faced Victoria.
“I just almost killed an old man.”
“Huh?!”
Victoria shook her head.
“Nothing... ”
The night turned into day, and then into night again, as Victoria obsessed about what she should do, or if she should do anything at all. And then it happened. A car pulled up beside her when she went to one of the shops near Cindy's home to pick up some cigarettes, a habit she had quit several years before.
“Get in.”
Victoria was startled, and turned toward the car, the back window now open. It was Philip. His face half covered with darkness from inside the limousine.
“I said, get in.” He repeated, in a firm and commanding voice.
Victoria stood at the side of the road looking at him, wondering where he had suddenly appeared from, and finally deciding she didn't really care, and hurried to get into the car. Victoria sat there waiting for him to make an apology as he eyed her seriously. She felt some sense of satisfaction, that she had drawn the lines of conduct, and now he'd know she wasn't just going to be his plaything that he could ignore as he chose.
The car pulled away,
“Where are we going?” Victoria asked, but Philip was just looking at her with those dark, brooding eyes, and didn't respond.
Telling the driver to roll up the blacked-out window inside the car, Philip undid his trousers and pulled his hard, and now erect, length out, gripping it in his hand. Victoria was flabbergasted, this was an apology? Without missing a beat, Philip grabbed the back of Victoria's hair and forced her down on her knees in the car, and pulled her face roughly towards his manhood. Victoria all at once felt a ripple of excitement in her pussy, and acquiesced, as Philip slid his cock into her mouth. Victoria had missed his hard virility; she'd thought about it for so many days while in Milan, but more than that, she missed the feeling she was now experiencing, the feeling of being dominated by him.
She licked all the way down and up along his shaft, and then using her pursed and wet lips, she rubbed the tip of his cock to and fro across them. She felt a frenzied desire to engulf him in her mouth, perhaps it was her desire to try and control him, instead of him controlling her, but whatever it was, she knew she wanted him. With his cock now wet, Victoria slid it all over her cheeks, as she looked up at him, it was a technique she had learned men liked some years before; they liked the feeling that they owned the woman when they looked at one doing that to them, the feeling of sensitivity they felt on the tip of their penis as it brushed across a woman's soft cheeks was also one most men couldn't fail to react to. Philip was now looking down at her beautiful face with his legs muscles slightly tensing, and quite obviously enjoying the sight of his slave pleasuring him as best as she could. Philip forced his cock in her mouth again, pulling the back of her hair and making her swallow its whole length. Victoria felt it right at the back of her throat and tried her best not to gag, before he then allowed her to come up for breath; and then once again, he forced it all the way down her throat. It brought involuntary tears to Victoria's eyes, as she tried to take it, but she was enjoying it; if this was what he wanted, then she was only too happy to comply.
Philip relaxed a little, and allowed Victoria to play with his manhood in her mouth. Jerking him off with the tip of his cock on her extended tongue, the supermodel watched his obsidian eyes inflamed with lust for her, while she rested her other hand on his balls. Soon, she felt them twitch, and she knew what was coming.
His breath started to get deeper, and his hands more needy, as they bound the locks of her hair in his gripped fist, and then, in an instant, his aristocratic cum arrived all over her tongue and lips, as his body arched against the back of the leather seat. Sitting there, still on her knees, she allowed Philip to get a good look at her with his cum awash over her mouth and chin, as he wiped his cock all over her made-up face, before he then commanded her,
“Swallow all of my cum, like a good girl.”
“Yes Sir, Lord Claringdale.” Victoria obeyed, and licked all around the sides of her mouth with her tongue, and got the rest of it with her fingers, swallowing his warm and salty juice.
Sitting back on the chair, Victoria rested her head on his shoulder, and asked,
“Was that my punishment sir?”
“No Victoria.” Said Philip, “Your punishment will come later.”
Victoria didn't mind. If this was punishment, then she liked to be punished. She was finding that what she thought she wanted from a man, and what she actually needed, were two different things altogether. Closing her eyes, she put her hands on his chest, and with the hum of the car engine, fell asleep.
...
Waking up with Philip shaking her slightly, Victoria asked,
“Where are we?”
Philip told her they had arrived at Claringdale mansion, and that Perkins would now attend to her as he had some things to prepare before he'd see her again later that evening. Perkins showed Victoria to her room, a large and impressive Victorian room, overlooking the grounds at the front of the house.
“This is your room now Miss Victoria, the master wants you to feel at home. Do call on me if you need anything.” Said Perkins, closing the door behind him and leaving her there alone. Victoria looked around the place, the furnishings were a mixture of modern and antique, and she wondered about the history and lives of the women that had stayed there in previous centuries. The room, Victoria found, wasn't only a bedroom, there were two doors at each side of it, and as she opened one, she saw b
ehind it was a day room, for her own personal use. The sofa and armchairs felt comfortable she thought, as she pressed her hand into the material to check it. On a coffee table, she found a few of her favorite magazines, it seemed to her that Philip Claringdale had really researched what she liked. Trying the other door, she found an en-suite bathroom with a bath tub and a separate shower, depending on which one she wanted to use at the time. On the table in front of the large mirror was a basket filled with expensive toiletries, and next to it a wide range of cosmetics and perfumes; with her favorite one moved slightly forward, as if to show her that no detail had been spared.
After relaxing for a while and taking a hot shower, she wondered exactly what Philip was preparing; he was always being so mysterious, she thought. She told herself she'd later talk to him properly about the fact that he'd ignored her for so long, communication always cleared up most misunderstandings, and it must have been a misunderstanding, she figured. After about an hour of Victoria relaxing on the sofa, taking in the warm breeze coming through the window she had opened, Perkins knocked on her door and Victoria told him to come in,
“The master will see you now Victoria. I hope you are prepared.”
“Prepared?” Victoria wondered, why did the English have to be so formal. Why should you need to 'prepare' yourself for a simple conversation? Victoria followed Perkins out of her room. Walking down one corridor led to another, and then another,
“How big is this mansion?” She asked, looking at the old oil paintings that graced the walls as they walked by them.
“Well Miss Victoria, if you're not familiar with the place, you could get lost in it. It was designed to be like a maze by the first Lord Claringdale. It came in most useful during the English civil war when anti-royalists attempted to execute the then Lord Claringdale. They spent weeks trying to find him and his family in the mansion, but were unable to do so.”