The Venture Capitalist (27 page)

“Until then, you’re mine,” I say and take her into my arms and kiss her until she fumbles to get my pajama bottoms off.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?” I say, incredulous that she would want me after the pain I just put her through.

“No, I just feel like I came down too hard on a bicycle seat. I’m good to go.”

“Well then,” I say.

Sex after a misunderstanding is always bitter sweet. I am feeling so magnanimous within short order I rescind the withheld orgasm mandate.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Keisha and I begin again and settle into a semblance of routine. Through the week she stays at her place with Ms. Jameson, but on weekends my condo is her home. She’s managed to avoid any harsh punishments since the Jorge debacle. Before we know it, we’re six months into running KSR. I host the second quarterly meeting in the conference room at White Enterprises, Inc. headquarters.

“Financial update, Ms. Jameson,” I say.

Jada starts when I change things up and request her report first this time. However, she finesses a fine recovery and says, “We should surpass the break-even point in a few weeks. Payables however, will be up around the same time as the north side location is scheduled to open within a couple of weeks. If performance and our projections hold steady, we should be able to cut White Enterprises and the Nathan White Brand a check in nine months.”

I skim the financial reports as she’s speaking, and it’s true. The figures do bear this out. “Thank you,” I say. “When it gets closer to that time, I’ll have Randall in Finance contact you with a preference for how we’d like to handle that.”

“What? Are you going to insist we pay you in cash?” Jada laughs, as do Nathan and Keisha, but I don’t.

“An infusion of profit without any corresponding expenditures to balance it could wreak havoc on my tax bracket, Ms. Jameson. DePaul has an exceptional accounting program. Your response is surprising.”

“Just kidding,” Jada says, shaking her head.

“You need to lighten up, brother,” Nathan says, punching me in the arm.

I glare at him. Keisha takes my hand in a quiet show of support under the table. “Stop it, you guys. You know Tristan never jokes about money.”

“Operations?” I say, gracing Keisha with the smile I don’t have for my brother and his harlot.

“We’ve signed fourteen acts, to date,” Keisha says. “When the north side location is fully operational, we hope to sign fourteen additional acts. We’ll evaluate each of them for profitability and replace any who don’t perform within six months. We have a steady stream of downloads for KSRs clients, and there is now a new receivable line item in the form of royalties for yours truly via Princess Danai’s new album.”

“Congratulations, Keisha,” Nathan says. “I’ve been listening to ‘Champion Lover’ before we hit the courts every game. We haven’t lost yet.”

“Congratulations,” I say, squeezing Keisha’s hand.

“Thank you, Nathan…Tristan,” she says, her cheeks turning rosy with that uncharacteristic shyness that hits her sometimes.

I have to bust Nathan’s balls over his superstitions. “What are you going to listen to when you finally lose a game?”

“Keisha’s next album,” he says, as if he was waiting for that question.

Keisha holds both hands up. “Wait a minute, now. Who says I’m going to do an album. I’ve got my hands full managing all our acts and selling good music to the masses.”

“You decide for yourself if you want to do it,” I say. “Don’t let Nathan’s superstitions drive anything.”

“She wouldn’t do that anyway,” Jada says. “She doesn’t need any of us to help her decide what’s best for her.”

“What are you implying, Ms. Jameson?” I pin her with my eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Keisha says. “Please let’s not argue over something that is clearly not even a blip on my radar right now. If I were to ever do an album, it would be planned out more thoroughly than dropping something out there because I got a compliment on a few background vocals.”

“Please continue your report,” I say.

“Anyway, we are scheduled to go worldwide six months from now, which will be a year from the time we opened our doors.”

“Will there be any brick and mortar stores involved, or just online presence?” I ask.

“You know, we haven’t thought about that,” Keisha says.

Jada raises her hand, sheepishly. “I have.”

Keisha laughs, but I can tell she is just a bit blindsided by her friend’s revelation. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Now,” Jada says with a shrug. “It was just me dreaming, and kicking the idea around with Nate one night.”

“Were you high?” Keisha says. “Because we haven’t paid back the loans we took out to start the business here in Chicago, yet.”

“Clearly, you partners need to have a conversation about strategic development,” I say. Then I have to take a jab at the smug Senator’s daughter. “Keisha and I never discuss KSR business outside of these meetings, or conference calls I have with the both of you. You would be wise to do the same, Ms. Jameson.”

“Why don’t we all have another meeting in a couple of days to discuss options,” Nathan says.

“That’s going to be a bit difficult,” I say. “Ms. Beale and I will be in Milan.”

“What?” Keisha says.

“Not only is your business six months old, but so is our partnership.”

“Oh!” Keisha is still dumbfounded by my announcement.

“I ran it by Ms. Jameson and Mr. Cisneros, who were willing to hold the fort down while you’re gone.”

“Okay, then. I guess I’d better pack my bags,” Keisha says. “Thanks, roomie.”

“You’re welcome,” Jada says with a smile. “Despite having to be subjected to your traveling companion, I’m happy you’re going to Milan. Bring me back a souvenir.”

Unlike other trips I’ve taken with Ms. Beale for business, this one is longer and distinctly for pleasure. We check into a suite at the Hotel Principe Di Savoia Milano where every amenity one is able to afford is available to us.

Something about being on vacation with Keisha puts me in a tranquil state. By day we behave as tourists. By night we brave the club scene. I take Keisha out to dinner and dancing—then we hit the fetish clubs.

As we patronize these clubs I’ve visited with other submissives on more than one occasion, Keisha and I are given red-carpet treatment, she is such a hit with the owners. The manager of my favorite luxury fetish club called
The White Whip,
is so happy to see us, he rents me his best dungeon for the weekend for a song.

Keisha and I share a night of intense role-play with her in her most daring bondage gear yet. She wears a black patent leather dickey and patent leather thigh-high boots that make her toned legs look fabulous.

I’m not sure if it’s the atmosphere which has thoroughly loosened up her inhibitions, or the liquor I gave her permission to imbibe before we arrived, but she makes a bold decision.

“I’m ready for you to pop my anal cherry tonight, Sir,” she says after a thorough cropping on the St. Andrews Cross.

I grin wickedly. “Here and now?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You do amaze me, Ms. Beale,” I say.

I take her hand and lead her to ensuite in the rented dungeon. “Let’s get you prepped,” I say with unabashed glee.

When we are both clean from our shared shower, we move on to the red satin bed in our rented dungeon. I insert a spreader bar between her legs, locking her ankles open. I prop a pillow underneath her hips, presenting her ass to me at just the right angle. Keisha trembles like your average virgin might in anticipation of her first time, and I massage her briefly to calm her.

I work her over with my mouth and fingers until she is completely relaxed before I constrain her wrists with leather cuffs to the headboard posts. I am so hard doing all this to her, I want to skip ahead and claim her, but that would be a foolhardy move. I prep her backside more by kneeling behind her, opening her butt cheeks and licking her clean anus.

Keisha gasps, enjoying the attention I lavish on this often ignored erogenous zone. I then massage her buttocks and thighs while continuing to kiss her in this most intimate place. Finally, I insert two fingers into her sex, and a moan escapes her lips.

I hiss with excitement “Yes! It’s going to feel even better than that, you just wait.”

I get carried away and bite down on her left ass cheek, making her gasp again, this time in surprise. She keeps quiet like a good little submissive save the panting, as I continue stimulate her in concert—licking her ass, and massaging her G-spot with my fingers. When I feel the constrictions signaling her imminent orgasm, I stop.

“You have no idea how much I like this ass of yours. I’m going to bite it several times tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” she says through another gasp.

My submissive has truly spread her wings, because she’s mastering a brand of kink that was heretofore distasteful to her. I am honored to be the one to introduce her to this. I can tell she has groomed herself well before this experience, because when my tongue lances her sphincter, all I taste is Keisha.

I stop again, not to torture, but to prepare her to receive me. I slather her with warmed lube, taking globs of it onto my fingers and inserting them inside her. As I push fingers slick with lube deep within her with one hand, I massage her back, bottom, and thighs with the other. I murmur words of encouragement as she opens up to me.

“Good girl.”

She squirms and moans, clutching the sheet with her fingers, since she can’t move her hands or feet in earnest. I remove my fingers and quickly replace them with a warm, lubed butt plug. It is roughly my size and fits snugly where I’m going to be very soon.

I unbuckle her ankles from the spreader bar.

“I’m going to flog you now, Ms. Beale.”

She moves her legs in a restless motion.

“I took your legs out of the bar for my purposes alone. Did I tell you to move?” I say with a stern voice.

“Sorry, Sir.” Her apology is swift and profuse. As I’m sure she thought better of pulling a punishment card.

“As I was saying, I’m going to flog you because like virginal vaginal intercourse, virginal anal intercourse can be painful if not executed properly. Endorphins from the flogging will negate pain. Cancel it out, so to speak.”

She expels a breath of relief. “Thank you, Sir.”

She takes another deep breath, and I hit her with the heavy flogger in the center of her back as she expels a breath. She cries out in surprise more than pain, because I am tempering the pressure. I hit her up and down her body, from her shoulders to her knees with the flogger.

This method of spreading out the flogging over a large portion of her body rather than concentrating in one area, should keep the pain to a minimum. I’m sure it hurts, but not as badly as I could make it hurt, so she doesn’t ask me to stop. She flinches from every blow, clenching the butt plug inside her. I watch as the pain becomes pleasure evidence by her aroused sex beginning to glisten.

After a few minutes, I end the flogging lay across her body like a shroud.

“I could flog you more, but my cock is anxious to claim your anal cherry.”

I work the plug out of her and dispose of it in its case on the bedside table. If her wetness is any indication, she is ready to have me fill her in place of the heavy metal. I slather lube on myself, then inserts even more in Keisha. I adjust the pillow underneath her as I lower myself to cover her again. Positioning myself at her entrance I inch inside. She gasps as I push, in slow, short thrusts. Her muscles tighten involuntarily.

“Relax, Keisha,” I say through shallow panting of my own.

As she does so, I sink deep and still on top of her.

“Is that okay?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

I begin a slow, steady rhythm. Judging from Keisha’s increasing moans of pleasure, I’m sure she’s enjoying herself. I run my hand underneath our bodies to find her clit. The excess lube and her wet sex give me all the friction I need to stimulate her sensitive nub.

My hips and scrotum lap her from behind like a spanking. Keisha begins to push back toward my downward thrusts as if she can’t get enough. At the same time, I’m showering her shoulders and neck with wet kisses and nibbles.

Suddenly her body tightens. She shakes and orgasms, collapsing on the bed. I continue to pump into her until I come with a shout of triumph. Keisha, usually the noisier one during sex, is surprised by my reaction.

“Wow! Are you okay?”

“Never better,” I say against her throat.

I rest my body heavily on hers for a few seconds, but then shift my weight for fear of crushing her into the bed. We are both likely too disoriented to care at the moment. I pull carefully out of her and flop onto my back. I release Keisha’s hands from the leather cuffs and blindfold.

Unmoving, she turns her head in my direction. There is a dazed, lazy grin on her face, which I return, not masking the arrogance I’m sure accompanies it.

“Well, Ms. Beale. What have you to say about that?”

She goes with a superlative. “Stupendous.”

I pull her in for a kiss and she crawls on top of me showing me just how much she enjoyed her maiden voyage of anal sex. I stir, becoming aroused by her searing kiss, and I am convinced our adventure at The White Whip is far from over.