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Billion Dollar Harem	By : Mal Category: Celebrities - Misc > General Views: 340408 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, it did NOT happen. I do NOT know, nor have I ever met any of the celebrities who are portrayed in this story. I don't condone any actions contained here in, and I make no money from its distribution.

Chapter List
- 46
- 47
- 48
Disclaimer:
The following is a work of fiction. It is not, in any way, intended to reflect reality. It is purely a fantasy originating in the deepest recesses of my mind. While real people do appear in this work, I, the writer of this work, in no way wish to see these individuals actually put in any situation contained therein. Furthermore, I do not, in any way, shape, or form, condone rape, kidnapping, violence, or any of the other questionable acts that appear herein. This work is not intended to endorse or condone anyone who would perform such vile acts. Anyone who would do any such a thing to a real-life person deserves punishments reserved only for those in the deepest circle of hell. In addition, I do not know, nor have I ever met Emma Watson, Margot Robbie, Taylor Swift, Bella Thorne, Chloe Moretz, Felicity Jones, Cara Delevingne, Dove Cameron, Ariana Grande or Kendall Jenner. The versions of them that appear in this story are fictional and purely based on their celebrity persona. I apologize if that offends you. My intention is only to entertain. Finally, I make no money from the distribution of this work.
Author Note: Hello readers, please visit the Billion Dollar Harem thread on this site's forum. You can do so by following this URL: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/64346-billion-dollar-harem/ Thanks, I look forward to hearing from you,
Mal.
Story Codes: MF, Mdom, oral, anal, drugs, D/s, rape, mc
Date: October 12, 2015 (5:30 P.M.) approximately 134 days before Alex’s first guests arrive…
Alex stood at the tall, floor length window of a dimly lit sitting room in a posh, uptown Parisian loft. The light of the setting sun reflected beautifully off the pure white walls and ceiling, creating a warm glow in the background. Dark hardwood floors, priceless works of art, and luxurious leather chairs contrasted the walls nicely and added to the rich atmosphere.
The man complimented the scene as well, dressed in a finely tailored Armani suit of dark grey fabric. He also wore fine Italian leather shoes, a dark blue, almost steel colored necktie, and at his wrist, a fine Rolex watch made of platinum. His face was a mask of reserved calm as he gazed out at the magnificent view, flawlessly hiding the nervous anticipation he felt inside.
He lifted his arm, momentarily glancing at the exquisitely crafted Swiss timepiece. “It’s nearly time,” he thought, returning to his outwardly relaxed stance as he continued to stare out the window.
So much was riding on tonight being a success. For over ten years he had been planning, recruiting, and building, like a supervillain plotting world domination. But Alex wasn’t interested in ruling the world. He wasn’t even really all that interested in the wealth and the companies his parents had left him after their untimely demise. Both were simply a means to an end. Just as tonight would be, at least he hoped. Everything was in place, and should he fail, many of his plans would be ruined, years of work, millions of dollars wasted.
He began working on this elaborate plan ten years ago, just after his graduation from Oxford University. He’d just turned twenty-three and had been given full control of his family’s fortune and its businesses. Not long after this, he began development on a secluded mansion in the Yukon Mountains.
Construction was finally complete and, as of this morning, a veritable army of men and women had begun moving in his most precious possessions from residences all over the world. In a few months, he and his bodyguards would move in as well. Then, if things tonight went according to plan, his new concubines would be soon follow, whether they wished it or not.
When the project first began, Alex had spent some time overseeing the initial planning phase of the mansion. He spent months with architects and engineers going over schematics and blueprints to ensure every detail was just as he wanted. In addition, he made a special effort to convince them and the world at large that he was a paranoid shut in who believed the world was coming to an end.
After ensuring that everything with his mansion was properly set in motion he went, in secret to Africa. When he was a boy, he’d spent months and months there over a five-year period while his parents worked to help rid the continent of Polio. During that time, he met many different tribes and their leaders, and even learned to speak a smattering of the local languages.
So, when it came time to recruit loyal men who would do anything he asked if the price was right, he returned. He found them, five men and one woman among the tribes and villages he’d known as a boy. He offered them money and a life of luxury to pay for their service. But their loyalty he bought by giving them a place in his mansion. A place outside the law where they could bring their women, their slaves, and the opportunity to fuck and humiliate glamourous celebrities from all over the world.
When he first met them, they were young. He wanted them to be capable of serving him for many years to come. Ulu had been the oldest at thirty-two, and his nephew, Zeru, the youngest at fourteen. The others, including the surprising discovery of Nqobile, a veritable amazon of a woman, had all been closer to his own age at the time.
Alex then hired the best of the best to train these new guardsmen. Former black-ops mercenaries, soldiers of fortune, and men who specialized in security and its countermeasures were all employed to ensure all six were tough as nails and up for the challenges he had planned for them. Once he had acquired these new African bodyguards and saw to it that they would be expertly trained, he returned to the U.S. and his family business to begin phase two of his plan.
The Whitely Family’s wealth extended back into ancient history. According to the legend, as his father told him when he was a child and as it was passed down for generations, their line began in Macedonia, during the time of Alexander the Great. Supposedly, one of Alex’s long dead forefathers had been a prince or a king. While he wasn’t sure he entirely bought into this virtually unprovable legend, one thing was for sure, Alex’s family was old, very old money.
While there is no way to prove just how far back it went, the one undeniable fact was that in the early 1800’s, a long dead Whitely was one of the first major investors in the railway industry’s development in the U.S and Europe. As the years and decades passed, they continued to invest and evolve their business savvy. Today, Alex owned a multitude of successful companies, one of which was Whitely Enterprises, which primarily did weapons and other military oriented R&D. It was this company that developed the knock-out gas that he planned to deploy in his harem to safeguard against rebellion. Another that would prove crucial to his plan was Whitely Pharmaceutical. Which, in addition to being a full-fledged pharmaceutical business, also worked on cutting edge research intended for both civilian and military application in everything from triage to developing stronger, faster, and more obedient soldiers.
Arcadia was a failed attempt at making super soldiers. It was designed to heighten a soldier’s focus on the battlefield, to quicken their reaction time, and to make them less prone, in the moment, to question orders. It was based on cocaine, and while it had a similar effect of creating bursts of energy and focus, it also had a horrible side effect of creating uncontrollable lust because it flooded key parts of the brain with dopamine and serotonin in response to almost any stimulant.
In men, it caused erections that would sometimes for last days. It made them irritable if they couldn’t get sex and, if left unchecked, a violent rage would ensue until they could satisfy their urges. In women, the effect was nearly opposite.
They too experienced lust and a nearly uncontrollable need to have sex. But the emotional side effect was, from a marketing standpoint, far worse. Women exposed became dependent on sex. The drug greatly inhibited reactions in their prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for reasoning and decision making. Even a single does was enough to alter their mental status, making them docile, open to suggestion and practically unable to refuse an order. The effect was cumulative, with no apparent drop off once the programming was in place. So, in effect, as long as the subject was continually subjected to the drug, you could program them to do almost anything you liked.
Obviously after that, the military discontinued the project. But, seeing its potential use in his own plans, Alex continued the research in secret, under the guise of removing or lessening the side effects and rebranding it as an aphrodisiac or an ED medicine. But in reality, he was interested in making its effect less pronounced in men, meaning its use could ensure that a man could have sex again and again without consequence.
As for women, he wanted to see that the side effect had a longer lasting impact on the subject’s mental status. It was great that after use they would become nearly insatiable. But Alex was more interested in the mental reconditioning and reprograming effect. Given that his plan was to kidnap and enslave women who were used to getting their way, a drug that could keep them docile and addicted to sex would be most advantageous should he be unable to break them on his own.
That said, Alex was much more interested in breaking women without the use of drugs. He was very much looking forward to the challenge of breaking their will and making them addicted to sex and to him through more mundane methods. Arcadia was always intended, with the exc eption of his guest tonight, of course, as a backup and to only be used on women who proved either too willful or too troublesome. As for his guest tonight, he needed her unconditional loyalty he needed her to not question his orders and the only viable way to achieve such unquestioning obedience in the limited time frame he had to work with while allowing her to pass as her normal self was to use the Arcadia.
With the method in place, phase two of his plan began immediately after his return from Africa and involved branching out into an entirely new business arena. Alex wanted to do something that would put him into the celebrity realm. But where he could stay in the shadows and not draw too much attention to himself. He created a brand-new fashion design company, which he named “W” after his own last name. It was perfect because he could control the direction of this new business. But because he wasn’t a fashion designer or an artist, he could maintain a certain distance without it seeming odd.
He had two major goals for this new enterprise. First, was to be on the cutting edge of “green” fashion. Wanting to capitalize on the growing trend among celebrities, especially Emma Watson, the first priority for W was to only design clothing with high eco sustainability and with a low environmental footprint. He hoped that by only creating green clothing, he could attract a lot of attention to raise awareness and spread the word about his new company. Plus, it was a cause he actually believed in.
The second major goal that Alex had in mind was to recruit the perfect celebrity spokesman for his new fashion line. His first thought, of course, was to go after Emma herself. She was, after all, the perfect person to be the face of something like this. However, Alex feared that if he had too much involvement with any of the celebrities who were to soon disappear, especially among the first group he planned to abduct, that it might raise unwanted suspicion.
Because of this, he considered other celebs who were out hyping eco-friendly fashion. Specifically, he considered women like Olivia Wilde and Gwenyth Paltrow, who were both known for their stance on fair trade clothing. But while they were both Alex’s type, they were both B list names at best. Oliva was not a big enough name and Gwen was beginning to age. He wanted someone who he could exploit with this opportunity, someone plugged into the worlds of fashion, music, and film. Someone whom, once corrupted with repeated exposures to Arcadia, he could happily bring into his harem, but who was also connected enough to be useful in kidnapping the women he had already targeted for abduction.
In the end, a fashion model made the most sense. But who? As he recruited designers, artists, and photographers for his new foray into the world of fashion, Alex considered this dilemma. He spent weeks as he laid out plans for his new company, deliberating on which model to focus his attention on. There were, of course, several candidates who met his requirements for being both famous as well as gorgeous. But, earlier in the year when a photo surfaced of Taylor Swift hanging out with Cara Delevingne and several other well-known super models, the question answered itself.
Alex blinked as his thoughts returned to the present. Pale yellow light from the setting sun reflected off the front window of an elegant, Rolls Royce Ghost as it turned onto the street outside the loft, drawing the handsome billionaire from his reminiscing. He watched from on high as it parked outside the building. A moment later, a slim figure with dark hair and wearing a long black coat got out. Alex forced his face into an emotionless mask. He calmly straightened his tie, stretched his neck, turned to face the door, and her inevitable arrival.
His plans hinged on this moment. He needed an informer, someone connected to the worlds he wanted a piece of and who could provide him with intelligence. He needed this meeting to go well if he hoped to be successful in his efforts to abduct a handful of the world’s most famous women. She was his best choice. He needed this moment to be perfect.
                                                                                       ***
She didn’t quite know what to expect. It had only been a month since her agent told her that a brand-new fashion design company wanted her to be the face of their new line of eco-friendly clothing and, already she was here in Paris, in a Rolls Royce, on her way to finalize the deal. Typically, endorsing such a new business would be beneath her. New companies like this came and went and it was nearly unheard of for someone like her to lend their name to it until they had a chance to prove themselves over a few seasons. But, apparently, this W brand had the backing of a very influential businessman who was so determined to see it succeed that he “convinced” Vogue magazine to do a huge spread and put her on the cover.
Furthermore, negotiations between her agent and the representatives at W had gone surprisingly well. They’d offered her a huge contract for signing an exclusive deal, with bonuses added in for attending functions wearing their clothes. They were even willing to add a stipulation to the contract that would allow her to work elsewhere as long as it didn’t interfere with her being their spokesman, and that the company in question wasn’t a direct competitor. It was the kind of deal only the big names like Victoria’s Secret, Chanel, or Gucci could afford to offer.
She, of course, didn’t need the money, her family was already rich. But she wanted to be successful in her own right, wanted to set her name apart from her family’s. It wasn’t that she was ashamed or anything like that. It was more that she wanted to be recognized for her own achievements and wasn’t just riding the coattails of her family’s wealth. This opportunity was her chance to prove she was her own strong, independent woman.
The only real sticking point to the deal was that it was contingent on her meeting the owner in a private face to face meeting so he could personally approve of the choice his executives had selected. Apparently, he wanted to make sure she was the right person to be the face of his new business. She supposed that she couldn’t fault him for wanting the right person. Still it was a little weird to have a business dinner alone with someone she’d never met.
“I’m so nervous,” she said, smoothing out some non-existent wrinkles in her dress as the Rolls Royce wound its way through the Parisian streets. “What if he doesn’t like me? I don’t know anything about eco-friendly clothes.” The gorgeous long-legged model shifted anxiously in the back of the luxurious car, turning to look over at her agent who was watching her impassively.
“You’ll be fine. Trust me. This guy doesn’t care about what you know. He only cares about what your name and your looks can do for his new clothing line.”
“Okay,” she said, turning her gaze apprehensively to the floor. “But, what if he’s some sicko pervert, using this contract stipulation to lure me into a dangerous situation?”
Ashley Mendez was the newest of her many talent agents. Though new, she had been with her for nearly a year now. She trusted her instincts and business savvy. So, when Ash smiled at her sympathetically, took her hand, and said consolingly, “Seriously. This guy is one of the richest men in the world. He could have any woman he wanted. Besides, you have multiple people who know where you are. And… after we drop you, we’ll be just around the block at that late-night café, one call away…”
She must not have looked completely convinced because Ash then slipped a small packet into her hand and added. “He has no reason to do anything. But if you’re still worried, take this. It’ll cause all that anxiety to just melt away.”
Turning her hand over, she looked down at the packet. It was a tiny plastic baggie filled with a white powder. “Cocaine?” she responded, in alarm.
“It’s not Coke,” Ash replied calmly. “It’s a new drug. It’s not addictive and it won’t make you paranoid. It sharpens your focus, like Adderall. Only it’s smooth and won’t make you all jittery. Trust me,” she said, smiling again. “It’ll help.”
“I don’t know…” she said, trying to hand it back.
The car came to a stop in front of a tall up town Parisian apartment complex. Apparently, the man she was meeting owned the entire building. He bought it and evicted all the other tenants just so he could turn the loft into a personal residence for whenever he was in Paris. Ash smiled at her again. “Just take it with you. Don’t use it if you don’t need it… Otherwise sneak off to the little girl’s room and take a bump or two. You won’t regret it…”
She wasn’t so sure how she felt about her agent pushing drugs on her. Although, as a runway model, she was no stranger to them. Coke and Heroin were common sights at fashion shows. She had even used both on rare occasions. However, taking a bump before a big show, or sharing an experience with friends late one night was a bit different than someone who was supposed to be looking out for her best interests pushing them on her.
In the end, she decided that it couldn’t hurt to take it with her. If she still felt nervous, or like she needed it after she met this mystery man, it might help. “Okay,” she said, tucking the packet away in her little black clutch. She touched her hair and put on her best smile. “How do I look?”
“Amazing,” Ash replied, before kissing each of her cheeks and ushering her out of the car. “Good luck,” she added, as she approached the door to the apartment building.
She took the guard rail and ascended the steps outside the building. At the front door was a large middle-aged black man in a dark suit. “Good evening, Miss ------,” he said, in greeting, as he opened the door and allowed her to enter.
“Thank you.” She replied, stepping inside.
The lobby of the building was brightly lit by a huge glass chandelier. Black and white tiles decorated the floor and exquisite paintings and fine leather seating lined the walls. Along with the furniture, half a dozen little tables dotted the entryway, each supporting a magnificent vase containing a dozen white roses. As far as luxury lobbies went, this was one of the most amazing she’d ever seen, and she was no stranger to the finer things.
Another African gentleman in a matching suit stood stoically with his arms behind his back by the elevator as she looked around the elegant room. “These prints are amazing,” she said, approaching him.
“They are originals,” he replied simply, before looking down at her. “Are you ready to go up, Miss ------?”
“Originals? No,” she said grinning. “That’s a Chagall. It can’t be.”
The African guardsman simply shrugged as if he couldn’t care less. “Mr. Whitely doesn’t do replicas.” He returned his gaze to a neutral point in the room adding, “let me know when you are ready to go up.”
With this new knowledge, she took a moment to have a better look around the room. She didn’t know much about painting. But she had visited the Chagall museum once during a visit to the south of France and recognized the distinctive style. There were four other paintings in this room, each as old looking as the Chagall. If they were even half as valuable, the contents of this room alone must be worth millions. She wondered if all this decoration was a show for her benefit, or if this Mr. Whitely was just that rich.
Either way, the thought was dizzying, and her mind returned to the little packet in her purse as she again approached the guardsman. “I’m ready now,” she said, almost meekly.
“Very well,” he replied, pressing the elevator button. “The elevator will ascend to the top floor. The others are under construction and are inaccessible.” He motioned for her to step inside, adding, when she did, “have a pleasant evening.”
The doors shut and suddenly she felt very nervous. After the scene in the lobby, she felt more than ever the pressure to make a good impression. She considered the drugs in her purse, but doubted she’d have the time to find and use them before the elevator reached its destination. Instead, she took several deep breaths, trying to steel her nerves against whatever awaited her when these doors opened.
                                                                                       ***
“She’s on her way up, Boss,” came Thando’s baritone voice from the intercom.
Alex moved into the portioned area he’d set up outside the elevator to serve as a foyer and waited, arms folded behind his back. A moment later, a whooshing sound and a flash of light from between the doors announced the elevator’s arrival. He took a step closer and put on his most charming smile.
There was a soft ding and the doors parted. The elevator interior had dark wood paneling, slate gray tiled floors and was filled with soft natural light. But, by far, the most stunning thing inside was its occupant, Kendall Jenner.
The stunning, world famous supermodel wore a nervous smile on her full, pouty lips, a long dark coat over an elegant white Versace dress cut low in the front and high up one thigh. Along with the dress, she wore black six-inch stiletto heels that put her nearly as tall as Alex himself. Her long raven hair was parted on one side and hung simply past her shoulders in a natural, dignified look. Her dark, youthful eyes were highlighted beautifully with black eye liner and a dark shade of eye shadow. “Mr. Whitely, I presume,” she said nervously, extending her hand and bashfully lowering her eyes towards the floor.
“Ms. Jenner,” he responded, his voice smooth and silky without a hint of nerves. He delicately took her hand in his, turned it over and, while meeting her gaze, gently kissed her wrist. “You’re every bit the essence of elegance and grace that I was led to believe.”
She smelled of lavender and rose and her pale skin flushed crimson as she smiled, despite herself, from the compliment. Her modest cleavage rose in elation as she inhaled deeply from the romantic, old school greeting of a gentleman. The sight made Alex’s heart leap in excitement. This was going to be fun, he thought.
Kendall hadn’t known what to expect when she learned she would have to meet the mysterious businessman behind W. All she was told was that he was a billionaire. She half expected a wrinkled old man halfway through ninety with one foot in the grave. What she hadn’t remotely expected was this tall, handsome, well-dressed man who seemed to be a marble statue come to life. His steel gray eyes, rugged jaw, and impressive physique were already, with only the touch of his hand, making her mind run wild imagining the things she’d like him to do to her.
“Thank you,” she said, managing to force the anxiety from her voice. “It is a pleasure meeting you too.” She took a step from the elevator and looked around the lavishly decorated apartment. “I must admit,” she went on, as her eyes surveyed the room, “you’re not quite what I was expecting.”
“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping in behind her to help her out of her coat. “What exactly were you expecting?” He asked, smiling as he motioned her further inside.
“I don’t know,” she replied, with a giddy, nervous laugh, “less Bruce Wayne more David Rockefeller.”
“The hundred-year-old heir to the Rockefeller fortune?” Alex responded, laughing as well. He hung Kendall’s coat on a hook by the door and lead the way into the main living space. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint,” he said, with a grin. “Please sit,” he continued, pulling out a chair at an elegant dining table by the window.
Not catching the sarcasm in his voice, Kendall’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Oh, no,” she gasped, looking at the floor in embarrassment, “it’s a good thing.” She took her seat and looked back up at him as he moved next to the chiller beside the table. “To be honest,” she said, shyly, “I was worried you might have invited me here out of lecherous intent.”
“Lecherous intent?” He asked, looking over at her and curiously arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah…” she responded, trailing off as embarrassment continued to color her cheeks. She licked her lips, looking away bashfully. “I had this whole weird scenario built up in my head.”
Alex popped the cork on the champagne that was chilling next to the table. “And… in this scenario I was David Rockefeller, an ancient billionaire who brought you here to… seduce you?”
“Sure…” she said laughing. “When you say it like that it sounds ridiculous.”
“Champagne?” He asked, holding the bottle out to her. She nodded and held out her glass for him to pour it. “Its not that ridiculous,” Alex went on as he filled her glass. “You’re a gorgeous woman, and this isn’t exactly a normal situation we’re in.” He topped her off and filled his own glass, taking a seat across from her. “But I can assure you, Ms. Jenner, that’s not why I wanted to meet with you.”
Kendall beamed a smile at the compliment, feeling some of her anxiety evaporate. “So, why did you?” she asked, emboldened by the billionaire’s charismatic presence.
Alex glanced over at her, holding his glass out towards her. “First, let’s drink to a successful business endeavor.” Their glasses clinked musically together, and her dark, sensual eyes met his.
She bit her lip as if considering the possibilities. “To a successful venture,” she responded pleasantly.
They each took a sip of champagne. Alex watched his guest curiously, sitting his glass down. “If I’m being honest,” he said, returning his gaze to her dark, stormy eyes, “I wanted to take stock of you.” He watched her for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction. When she didn’t seem all that shocked, he went on. “As an outsider, looking in on your glamorous life, you seemed different from your sisters, and even from many of the other women in your profession. Frankly, I wanted to see if that was true for myself.”
He stood up then and walked into the kitchen, motioning her to remain seated when she looked confused about whether she should follow. “Despite having several successful companies,” he said, as he put on a pair of oven mitts and drew out two dishes from the oven. “All of which are very profitable, this venture, W, it means a lot to me.”
Alex returned to the dining area and sat a plate of ratatouille down before each of their chairs. “Careful, that’s hot,” he said, retaking his seat. “In many ways, the success of those businesses has very little to do with me, but are because of my parents, my grandparents and their forbearer’s successes.” He picked up his fork and motioned, with a grin, for Kendall to dig in. “I want something that is my own. A project that I can measure my own success as a businessman against. And I want that project to be W.”
Kendall could certainly relate. After, all, her desire to set herself apart from her family name was why she’d become a runway model instead of just posting pics to Instagram and riding her family name to wealth and success. “I can certainly relate. My family name comes with its own… baggage.”
They each took a bite of the delicious, distinctly French dish, making note from the view that it was very appropriate. Kendall was impressed. She didn’t know if Alex had made this himself, while it was doubtful, she still liked that he’d chosen to connect with her personally. There weren’t any guards or servants up here. It was just the two of them, casual, engaged, like people. “And you want to make sure I’m the right person to represent that project?” she asked, smiling and taking another bite.
“Exactly,” he said, with a genial nod of his head. “This project is personal too. I believe in ecofriendly solutions across industries, not just the fashion world. I can’t implement them in all my businesses yet. But this is a place for me to start, and I want it to be successful. I want my spokesman—woman,” he corrected himself, with a grin, “to personify this idea. It’s my hope that you’ll wear our clothes not just because I’m paying you to, but because you like what you’re wearing. I want you to add your voice to the other celebrities calling for action in this industry and help to turn those individual songs into a chorus, all while looking fabulous.”
“But why me? I don’t have a reputation for having a voice in this fight. Wouldn’t someone like Emma Watson be a better choice? She is a vocal spokesperson in this area, after all.”
“True. But Ms. Watson is a busy person. Between filming commitments and her work for gender equality, she doesn’t have much time left to be the face of an entire company. Plus, she’s not a model. Besides that, you’ve got access to millions of followers through your social media presence. Emma’s a small fish in that arena compared with you.”
Kendall found herself blushing again from one of his compliments. She tried to hide it by looking down and taking another bite of the delicious meal he’d prepared for them. But she saw it in his eyes as she looked away, a glint of knowing. “You’re too kind, Mr. Whitely,” she said bashfully. Suddenly, she found herself wishing she’d taken the drugs back in the car with Ash, she could use a calmer, more focused head right now.
“Please,” he said, topping off their champagne, “call me Alex.”
There was a long break in the conversation as they ate and as she quietly contemplated her host’s words. Alex sat upright, eating and drinking, watching his guest and wondering, hoping he had intrigued her. Kendall, on the other hand, studied her plate, eating more slowly and taking the occasional sip from her glass for the courage to go on. Her mind was running wild with a hundred different thoughts. Everything her host had said made sense, yet she couldn’t help but feel there was something more going on. She wondered, almost hoped he had an ulterior motive. Each bite she took, she felt her pussy getting wet, she felt her skin grow flush. There was no denying how much his offer had interested her, nor how attracted she was beginning to feel for the man who’d given it.
After the silence had a moment to draw on, Kendall became more and more self-conscious. She swallowed nervously and looked up from her plate and into his curious, steely gray eyes. Alex smiled. He took another bite from his food and a sip from his glass. “Well,” he asked, after another moment, “Ms. Jenner, what do you think of my proposal? Do you have any addendums you might want me to consider?”
She had talked to her agents about the possibility of adding her creative voice to either personally design one or two outfits, or to maybe tweak the designs to more accurately reflect her unique style. But after he spoke, she looked up at him to respond and felt her voice fail. She took a sip of champagne to help loosen her tongue. “I do,” she squeaked. “But, first, do you have a restroom I might use?”
“Of course,” he responded, looking a little concerned. “It’s right through there,” he pointed. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” she said, standing and feeling her face go flush with embarrassment. “I just need to powder my nose…” She grabbed her clutch from the table where she’d sat it down and rushed off, not caring how it might look, into his restroom.
Alex almost laughed out loud as the door slammed behind her. This couldn’t have gone better, he thought. His own personal charisma combined with her desire for the meeting to go well and a harmless cocktail of anxiety inducing drugs sprinkled into her meal, and Kendall was already in the restroom snorting up the Arcadia her agent had given her.
He stood up and downed the rest of his glass. He pulled off his tie, then removed his shoes, jacket and shirt, draping them over his chair. Afterwards, he followed Kendall to the restroom. The door was locked, but he reached over the doorframe for the key, slipped it in the lock, and soundlessly entered.
She was bent over the countertop, head hung, breathing deep and didn’t hear him at first. On the dark marble next to her were two lines of Arcadia, and the powdery remnants of a third. No doubt the powerful effects of that first hit had sent her head reeling. It was almost surprising she didn’t have a hand in her panties already.
“Ms. Jenner!” he said, in a booming, commanding voice. “Just what the hell is going on here!”
She jumped in fright, turning to see him, her face going red. “No—nothing! It’s nothing!” she said, scrambling to turn around and brush the evidence off the counter.
“No.” He said, seizing her wrists. With the other hand, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pushed her face down, close to the Arcadia. “Snort another line! Now!” He handed her the rolled up hundred she’d used to snort the first one, releasing her as he did.
In her current state, she had almost no choice but to obey. Tears came to her eyes as she stood up a little on shaky legs and took up the hundred. “Okay,” she mumbled weakly, bending down. She snorted up the Arcadia, and her whole body shuddered, no doubt in orgasm and she collapsed to her knees.
It was a strange feeling, the effects of Arcadia. On one end, it sharpened her focus, seeming to bring the entire world into a precise, focused clarity. But on the other side, it narrowed her vision making everything, except the object of her desire a hazy distant thought just out of reach. And, because of the way Arcadia stimulated the pleasure centers of the brain, the object of that urgent desire was pleasure, pure, carnal desire for orgasm. She would do anything for it, obey any command, perform any debasing action all with the fervent hope it would be given.
Alex stood straight and glared down at her. She was trembling and had a far-off kind of stare. He noticed that now, she’d slipped a hand inside the cut of her dress and, barely aware of what she was doing, had begun touching her pussy through her panties. “You are a fucking slut…” he said, shaking his head. “Suck my cock like a good whore.”
“Wh—what?” she said, looking up at him in shock. She had tears in her dark, sultry eyes and when she blinked, they ran down her face.
Under normal circumstances, she would have been appalled, furious and ready to fight tooth and nail. But something was clouding her judgment. She was so horny, a hundred times more than she’d been sitting at the table.
Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He snapped a pic of Kendall on her knees with tears of shame and a powdery residue beneath her cute little nose. “I assume you still want the job? If not, I suppose I could show the world what a slutty drugged out whore you are.”
Kendall’s head bobbed in confusion, the Arcadia was really beginning to kick in. “No… please don’t.” She licked her lips, her head hanging in shame. “I want the job…”
“Then suck it…”
Without realizing what she was doing, or maybe it was because at this point she just couldn’t help herself, she nodded, licking her lips in anticipation. “Okay…” Far in the back of her mind she knew this was wrong and more tears came to her eyes. Yet despite that, she found herself reaching up and pulling down the zipper of this basically total stranger’s pants.
She pulled it free, her eyes growing wide in surprise at its length and girth. The sight of it made her pussy clench in desire. The Arcadia filled her brain with a need for pleasure and the desire to obey. She wanted to fuck and knew that sucking this cock was the first step toward getting what she wanted.
Her mind reeling from drugs, her brain already beginning to be reprogrammed to obey his every word, Kendall Jenner leaned forward and took a tentative lap at the tip. Her tongue ran over the underside of his head, up over the opening on the tip, and then over the top. As it brushed along the surface of his prick, the Arcadia sent a flood of endorphins racing into her brain, telling it this was right, this was what she was supposed to be doing, and that it was the most pleasurable thing she’d ever experienced. Kendall moaned as her tongue left her new master’s cock for the first time, her eyes rolled up into her head, and she practically orgasmed from doing as she was told. She moaned in desire, then wrapped her lips enthusiastically around it and sucked on it just as he’d commanded, like a good whore.
Alex let her work for a moment, allowing Kendall to get used to the idea of her lips moving slowly up and down on his cock. He watched as she slurped, drooled, and teasingly began to convince herself that what she really wanted was to fit as much of it as possible into her throat. After it seemed like she’d gotten into it, he snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Up here, whore.” She looked up questioningly, pulling his prick free of her mouth, but rubbing it longingly against her face. “When you suck my cock, you look up at me.”
“Okay,” she said lustfully, gasping for breath.
“What do you want to do now?” he asked, tenderly stroking her cheek to reinforce the affection she was feeling for him under the powerful effect of the drugs.
She bit her lip, coy as could be, acting on her instincts as an Instagram tease. “Suck your cock?” Kendall said hopefully, looking up into his eyes.
“That’s right,” he said encouragingly. “And how do you want to do it?”
She bit her lip, embarrassed by the thought that entered her head. “By getting it good and sloppy then shoving it all the way down my throat…”
Alex smiled at her and moved his hand to gently cradle the back of her neck. “That’s a good girl.”
With that, she leaned back in and wrapped her lips around his cock. But this time, as she tenderly suckled on the tip, she gazed up at him with lustful, bedroom eyes. Alex stared back, meeting her dark, smoldering eyes. He let her go for a minute, then began to slowly rock his hips, carefully thrusting his dick between her lips. After she’d had a moment to get used to it, he pinned her head back against the cabinet drawers and began to fuck her mouth.
Because the Arcadia was flooding her brain with pleasurable, addicting endorphins, the effect as Alex fucked her face was that Kendall, with each thrust into her lips, was becoming more and more devoted to him. She slid a hand into her panties and began to finger herself as she moaned and drooled all over her expensive dress. Alex held her head, forcing her against the cabinet and began to drive his prick deeper and deeper into her throat.
It didn’t take long before Kendall, still gazing up at him, was driving her fingers into her cunt with the same hard, fast rhythm as Alex as he fucked her mouth. With her other hand, she gripped Alex’s leg and used it to urge him forward, faster and harder. She moaned deep, her eyes rolling in her head as she came. As her throat opened, expressing her pleasure, Alex pressed forward, shoving his entire length into her mouth. His balls went flush against her chin and he held himself there, watching her as she bucked on her hand. And, with each thrust of her hips into her hand, Kendall was becoming more and more his slave.
He held her there, pinned between his pelvis and the cabinet, his huge cock filling her throat till she stopped bucking and just long enough for her to need oxygen. Her eyes bulged and filled with anxiety and tears. She gagged hard and began to panic, gripping his legs and squeezing them in alarm to let Alex know she needed to breathe.
When he felt her throat seize around his cock a second time and the panicked groping of his legs grew slightly more frenzied, he pulled back, allowing her a desperate gasp of air. As she took in that frantic breath of oxygen, two things happened. The first was a powerful orgasm as she came a second time, from her giddy hypoxic brain being overwhelmed with oxygen rich blood. The second was a ten-fold increase in her devotion to him. Orgasming from asphyxiation is an inherently addictive practice, but combined with the Arcadia’s effect and the intensity of the orgasm, her fate was sealed.
Kendall’s chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. Thick strands of saliva clung to her lips and chin, connecting her to the pulsating cock, hovering before her face. Alex stood over her, watching, waiting to see what she would do. She looked up at him, a lustful need in her gaze. She licked her lips hungrily and then, without a word from him, leaned back in and wrapped her lips around his cock.
She suckled the tip tenderly and gazed up at the man she’d soon be calling master. “Good girl, he whispered, as he affectionately ran his fingers through her hair. “That’s a good girl.” She moaned softly from the derogatory compliment and again, all on her own, began to slowly slide her lips back and forth.
Alex let her go for a few minutes so her brain could get process and get used to the new subservient Kendall. During that time, she did as she had been commanded, kept her eyes up, staring at him, and sucked his dick like a good whore. By the time he’d hauled her to her feet a minute or two later, she’d even managed to take nearly the entire thing back into her throat without any help from him.
He took a towel from the nearby rack, smiled affectionately at her, and wiped her chin. “Kiss me,” he whispered. At this point, she couldn’t have refused such a simple command even had she wanted to. She nodded and he leaned in and kissed her softly but deeply, like long time lovers might.
When the kiss broke a few moments later, he had her phone in hand. His lips were barely an inch from hers, he gazed into her eyes and smiled. “Call your agent,” he whispered. “Tell her you decided to stay… and that you won’t need a ride.”
“Okay…” she responded quietly, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.
Of course, Ash had given little to no objections in the call that followed. She’d been part of his plan from the very beginning. Kendall’s agent didn’t know the real plan, but she was so hopelessly addicted to her mistress, Nqobile, by the same substance that was ensnaring Kendall even now, that she likely wouldn’t have cared even if she had known everything. She’d been found and “recruited” by the tall African goddess so that it was a friendly, trustworthy face who gave Kendall the Arcadia. Also, she’d be able to feed her client’s family and the press false information when the sexy model disappeared “to the Riviera” for the next week as she participated in Alex’s hardcore training session.
Kendall hung up the phone and looked to Alex with a proud, hopeful smile. “Did I do good?” she asked, biting her lip.
Without missing a beat, Alex reared back and open hand slapped her right across the face. The blow wasn’t enough to drop the model, or break skin, it was just a stinging, humiliating message about who was in charge. “Master,” Alex said calmly.
“W—what?” Kendall, said timidly, looking up at him, now with frightened eyes.
He snatched the phone from her hands and idly tossed it into the toilet. Then looked back to her, a callous, almost bored expression on his face. “Master,” he said again. “From now on, when you address me, you will do so by adding my title. Also, you’re not allowed to speak unless I’ve given you permission.”
“I—I don’t—”
Another open hand slap to the other cheek reiterated his previous message. “Did I tell you to speak?”
This time, the blow bruised Kendall’s full sexy lips and they trembled in fear as tears came to her eyes. For a moment it looked as if she were going to speak again, but then thought better of it, hanging her head in shame. The tears fell to her face and rolled down her cheeks as Alex again touched her, this time to gently cup her chin. “Look at me,” he whispered.
Kendall did as she was told, lifting her dark, tear-filled eyes to meet her new master’s steely gaze. She was frightened, that much was clear, but already the Arcadia and the need for sex it provided was changing the young model. Alex gave her a minute, just sharing her gaze, to see if she would again make the mistake of speaking out of turn. After he was satisfied, he smiled and tenderly brushed her cheek where he’d struck her. “Good girl,” he said softly.
After that, he looked down, taking in her lean, supple young body. The flimsy, white Versace dress clung to her slender frame. The top and her upper chest were still wet with drool, and the slit up the thigh allowed part of the dress to wrap around the outside of her leg so Alex could see her thin white panties that were damp with cum. He felt his cock leap with excitement at the vision before him. “Turn around,” he said, releasing his hold. “Place your hands on the countertop.”
Kendall desperately wanted to disobey. She wanted to run, to flee this place and this horrible man who she’d so terribly misjudged. But she couldn’t. In fact, the only thing she could do, was turn around and place her hands on the countertop. She looked up and met her own tear-filled gaze in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman before her. “Yes, Master,” she found herself saying… almost without knowing why.
At the same time, as he put his hands on her hips and stepped in close, pressing his chest against her back, her body betrayed her. Her breath shortened, her legs trembled, and she felt her pussy clench in anticipation, growing damp and hungry. His lips pressed against her ear, kissing her softly, “you want me to fuck you, I can feel your body quivering in desire. Tell me I’m wrong.”
She couldn’t speak, she wanted to scream. Instead, she lowered her gaze, submissively, surrendering herself to his will.
She said nothing and Alex smiled into her hair, breathing in her intoxicating scent as he did. Kendall hung her head in shame as more tears leaked from her eyes. Alex ran his hands up her body, feeling her melt into him as they rose. When they reached her shoulders, he pushed the straps off and pushed her dress downward. His hands followed, continuing to fondle the young model as he removed her clothing.
When the sexy, white dress was nothing more than a puddle at her feet, he took a step back to admire her body. Immediately, his eyes were drawn down the supple shape of her back to her tiny waistline, where the thin, flimsy band of her thong disappeared between the taut, firm, globes of her perfect, round ass. Alex stared between her thighs where he could see the barest hint of white panty between the gap in her legs. He stared, and slowly began to remove his final article of clothing, his pants.
He tossed them aside and stepped back in behind her, pressing his chest against her back. “Are you wet?” he whispered.
She nodded, biting her lip, “yes, Master,” she said softly, as more tears of humiliation leaked from her eyes.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her tight against him.
Kendall hesitated for just a moment. “No…” she cried softly. “But… yes,” she sobbed. “Please fuck me…”
“Master,” he whispered, into her ear, as he wrapped one hand into the band of her panties.
She nodded sadly, pressing her back against him. “Please, fuck me, Master,” she said, correcting herself.
As the words left her mouth, Alex yanked hard on the band of her panties, ripping them in twain in one forceful motion. Kendall yelped in fright, but barely had a moment to recover as her master shoved her head against the bathroom countertop and thrust his pulsating cock into her in one quick, vicious move.
As one of the biggest cocks the spoiled, twenty-year-old, millionaire model had ever taken filled her, she moaned loud and deep. It was painful, and humiliating, being treated like a piece of meat. But at the same time, it was exhilarating and easily one of the most pleasurable things she’d ever felt. She was used to playfully tormenting men. Her life as a model, as an Instagram tease made toying with men just par for the course. But rarely did she get to indulge in her own desires, even if, in this case, those desires were the result of a drug induced haze, it felt good to give into them. “Fuck, Master,” she groaned, pushing back against him. “That feels so good.”
Kendall’s pussy was soaking wet and plenty tight enough to give Alex pause. But he also needed to keep her in line. He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling it back and thrusting forward at the same time. He then slapped her ass with his other hand in a hard blow. She cried out in pain. “Did I give you permission to talk, whore?”
“No…Master…” she whimpered, as he began to fuck her hard and with little concern for her comfort or pleasure. “I’m sorry…”
He fucked her hard and fast for several minutes, just exulting in the feeling of her hot sexy body gripping him like a vice. Her body was damn near perfect and watching and feeling her as he thrust in and out was magical. He grabbed her waist and slammed into her again and again, till she was moaning like the whore he accused her of being. Sweat began to bead up on his chest, arms, and back as Kendall neared her next orgasm. “Cum for me,” he commanded, giving her ass a more playful slap and thrusting forward hard enough to bottom out inside.
As the wet fleshy sound of his hand striking her ass echoed around the bathroom, Kendall’s eyes rolled up in her head. Her toes curled, her body tensed, and she did as he commanded. She came, hard. Her pussy exploded all over his cock. She squirted girl cum all over him and all down her legs as the best orgasm of her life rocked her slender body.
Afterwards, she lay there, limp and gasping for breath. Alex pulled her up against his body, holding her close. “Look at yourself in the mirror.” He watched as her dark, smoldering, tired eyes met his in the glossy surface. “You see that?” he whispered. “Exaltation… this is how you were meant to be. This is what you were meant to do, it’s what you were made for.”
His huge cock pulsed inside of her, yet unsatisfied, and it felt so good. But part of Kendall’s brain still knew she was more than a fuck toy for this billionaire. Her eyes dropped in shame and tears again fell to her face. But, at this point she knew better than to say anything. She simply nodded, hoping not to provoke him.
“Look at me,” he commanded, in a soft voice. When she met his gaze in the mirror, her eyes were filled with thick, glossy tears and her bruised, bottom lip was trembling. He stroked her cheek tenderly, smiling reassuringly. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, kissing her neck softly. “Do you want to cum again?”
She nodded, shyly, still hesitantly meeting his gaze. “Yes, Master,” she sighed.
Alex held her firmly against him and began to take short, slow strokes in and out. Kendall’s head lolled back against his shoulder and she pressed back against him, using her grip on the countertop. “Does that feel good?” he asked, gently kissing her ear.
“Yes, Master,” she sighed, as her breath began to quicken. Her body betrayed her, she quivered all over, so close to the orgasm that her body was made to believe it wanted. Despite the war her mind was losing to the drugs, her body wasn’t the least bit conflicted at this point. It wanted this, it needed this.
Alex smiled; Kendall was now deep in his trap. Soon she would be his, unconditionally. He groped her affectionately as he slowly increased his pace. Soon she was gasping and sighing and pushing back nearly as much as he was thrusting forward. “Tell me you want me. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
Kendall’s cunt stretched around his cock and it filled her more completely than she’d ever felt. She licked her lips, lifting her gaze to meet her new master’s. “Master,” she cooed, “I want you so bad. Please, fuck me… I want you to make me cum.”
“Of course, I will, my dear.” Alex then, more gently than before, bent her back over the countertop. He placed his thump next to her lips and commanded her to suck upon it while he slowly built her up towards another orgasm. She reached forward with her lips without hesitation and began to suck on it.
When it was coated with saliva, Alex pressed it between her firm butt cheeks, against the taut, puckered entrance to her asshole. “Just relax,” he whispered, continuing to gently fuck her towards orgasm. She closed her eyes, nodded, and with a sigh relaxed as much as possible. Alex grinned, hips still thrusting against her, and slowly pressed his thumb into her asshole.
She gasped as it entered her and, after a moment’s hesitation, bit her lip and began to push back against her master again. Alex worked his hips, continuing to build Kendall towards a massive orgasm. While at the same time, he used his thumb to fuck, spread and prepare the model’s asshole for something much bigger.
It was clear Alex was prepping her ass for anal. That thought terrified her, she’d never had a dick up there before. A finger, sure, but this cock was a hell of a lot bigger than that. However, as he worked inside her, fucking her so good, driving her toward orgasm, the worry over what might happen in a few minutes vanished. The only thing that mattered was getting off.
It didn’t take long before Kendall was moaning and gasping as her head bounced up and down on the countertop. Alex was fucking her hard and deep, while continuing to spread her asshole open. He fucked her right to the edge of orgasm, before he pulled his thumb free and, leaning down next to her ear, whispered, “snort the last line. You’ll have the best orgasm of your life.”
Sweat beaded on Kendall’s forehead. It trailed down her long, sexy back and dripped down her legs. She raised herself up off the counter and looked back at Alex, a lustful smile on her face. “Yes, Master,” she cooed, picking up the rolled up hundred-dollar bill she’d used to snort the first two. Her head bouncing made it difficult, but she gripped the counter with her other hand to steady herself and Alex slowed just enough to assist. She leaned down and snorted up the line all in one go as she continued to get fucked.
The moment the Arcadia entered her nose, she started cumming. Alex grabbed her hips and started railing into her with all his strength, fucking her with wild abandon. Kendall’s eyes rolled up in her head and all she could do was scream as her pussy exploded. She squirted all over the place as two, three, four orgasms rocked her body.
Just as she was coming down from her last orgasm, Alex pressed her back down against the counter. Kendall was gasping for breath, her brain reeling from the flood of drugs and orgasm fueled endorphins. She barely noticed as Alex yanked his cock free. However, when he repositioned and thrust it into her asshole, her eyes went wide in shock and she screamed in pain, pleasure and shock. “Fuck,” she shrieked, as the huge cock pierced her to the hilt.
Alex pinned her head to the counter and gripped her hips as she bucked and fought against him. He slammed into her again and again as she continued to struggle. Soon tears streamed down her face and she was whimpering like a defeated dog. “It’ll go much better if you stop struggling.” But even as she nodded, closing her eyes in pain, he could feel her continuing to tense against his invasion.
Although he would have preferred it if she’d relaxed and given in, which would mean less damage to his new property, overall, he didn’t care too much. He continued to hold her down and fuck her amazingly tight, probably virgin hole. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and focused on making it last as long as possible. For one, it felt incredible. But, more importantly, the Arcadia was most effective during sex. Kendall had just snorted a third line and was still highly susceptible to its influence. So at least her fighting served the purpose of reinforcing his dominance over her.
He pounded into her till she was just lying limp on the countertop, her head still bouncing back and forth as he slammed against her again and again. When he got close, he gave her ass a couple of hard smacks to draw her back to reality. When she looked up at him, tears and mascara streaking down her face, he said, “on your knees whore, open that mouth.”
Kendall whimpered again, pathetically, but nodded as Alex took two more hard thrusts into her asshole. When he pulled out, she obediently slid to her knees, looked up at him as she’d been earlier instructed, opened her mouth, and laid out her tongue like a welcome mat. She looked tired, and disgusted with herself, like a porn star ready to be done after a long day of rough shooting.
Alex grunted, beating his cock in her face. Then, with one last guttural groan, blew his load in her face. The first strand hit her right in the eye and fell across her open mouth. “Don’t—you— dare—shut—that—mouth!” he cried, still pounding away. The second blast hit her square in her open mouth. The shot bounced off the back of her throat, causing her to gag, but not before he laid the rest of it over her tongue. Then, as she recoiled, he stroked, and the third shot hit her in the cheek and dribbled off her chin.
As she choked and gagged, Alex seized her hair and thrust his cock into her open mouth. He bottomed out in the back of her throat and fucked her face. He fired off one last blast and gave the young model a good long taste of her own asshole. Then he held her there as he gasped for breath, his cock resting in her mouth, while he grew soft.
After he went limp, he leaned back against the wall and looked down at her. Kendall was an absolute mess. Her once perfect, straight hair was disheveled and wild. Her face was streaked with cum, tears and mascara. Sweat trailed her entire body, and girl cum coated her legs and the floor where she now sat, crying.
Once he’d caught his breath, he stood up straight and seized her hair. “Come along, whore,” he said, dragging her from the restroom.
“Where are we going…” she cried, forgetting the rules in the new terror she was feeling.
“Speaking out of turn,” he said, tossing her down on the floor of the bedroom area. “You’ll pay for that later.” He reached into a hidden drawer on his nightstand and drew out a leashed collar. “This is a shock collar,” he calmly explained. “Once I’ve locked it in place, I suggest you cease all struggling…”
With that, he placed it around her neck, offering her one slap to the face when she pleaded with him to let her go. He locked it in place and said, “I’m afraid I can’t let you go… just yet.”
“Please,” she cried, looking up at him with fresh tears in her eyes. “I won’t tell anyone about this I swear…”
“I suggest you start using my title, or this will be a very long week.”
“Week,” she cried. “I’ll be noticed if I’m gone a week…Master…” she added tentatively at the end.
“I doubt it,” he again said, in a calm even tone. “Haven’t you heard? You’re spending a week hiding out on the Riviera.”
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Billion Dollar Harem