Making His Dark Fantasies Reality (closed for sexy_curves and karnelman)

karnelman

Seeker of Sanity
Joined
May 23, 2004
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Douglas Braymer was from all appearances the prototypical successful all-American man. He had always been a high achiever and excelled in both academics and athletics growing up. His education included a bachelor’s degree from Harvard, MBA from Wharton and JD from Yale Law School. He had quickly risen in the world of business and by the age of thirty-two was CEO of a top investment firm. His career and personal investments had brought him millions.

Most wondered why he worked so hard considering he was the only child of a couple who had joined two different family fortunes. He would someday inherit hundreds of millions of dollars. They didn’t know that in his family one was not simply given money. The family provided opportunity but there would be no inheritance if he had not proven himself. Doug more than proved his worth to carry on the family tradition and grow the fortune.

Along the way to the top, he had acquired a trophy wife. Carol Braymer was a beautiful, intelligent woman who fully understood her role in her husband’s life. She was an asset in required social situations, a good hostess and a cunt to fuck when he needed physical relief. Neither of them had any illusions that theirs was a love-filled marriage. Each got what they desired from the union. Considering that Doug was incredibly handsome as well as wealthy, smart and athletic, it was widely believed that he could have bedded most any woman he desired.

Though he occasionally gave into his baser desires and indulged in some strange woman’s willingness to fuck, he did not often cheat on Carol. She did not care any more about his dalliances then she did the doorman who labored in lobby of the expensive condo building where they resided. She had never been fond of sex and considered it a chore that came with marriage. In many ways she was no more than an overpaid whore.

Things changed dramatically when Doug’s parents were killed in a plane crash shortly after his fortieth birthday. Suddenly managing the family’s vast investments was enough of a challenge. He resigned his position and a year later informed Carol that he wanted a divorce. She accepted his offer of 15 million in cash as well as the condo, her clothes and jewels along with a trust that would pay her a lifetime income of at least 300 thousand dollars a year. She was pleased that she got to be rich and not have to fuck anyone.

Doug began splitting his time between a smaller condo in the city and the vast country estate he had inherited. The mansion was huge and sat on such a large tract of land that it was completely private. The outside world had no idea it existed. He had made a decision to pursue a lifestyle that had only lived in his fantasies. To that end he spent two years modifying the mansion and the immediate grounds. The contractors he hired were paid handsomely to never speak of the unusual modification they made to the hundred year-old estate. The outside work could have been explained as the security desires of an overly cautious millionaire. Most of the inside work seemed beyond explanation. Some of the construction workers guessed that the place was going to be used to make some dark niche porn videos.

He was forty-three when he began his hunt………
 
Sophia Lindstrom was a name not known by many. By 18 years old she had lost her parents to a tragic car accident and the once unbreakable bond between her older sister and herself had been slowly severed by distance and her sister’s marriage.

After her parents died, Sophie moved across the country, leaving the sunny, warm, always happy embrace of southern California for New York City. She had been accepted into NYU to study art history and business with the hopes of opening her own gallery one day. The changing seasons and the size of the city were what she longed for, change and anonymity. Her blonde hair and slender frame drew the eyes of many back home, as did the story of the death of her parents. She wanted nothing more than to blend in, and be unnoticed, to not see the look of sorrow and pity in the eyes of everyone who heard her name.

Taking an extra semester off between graduating high school and college gave her time to make short trips to New York, to find an apartment she could afford and a job. Settling for a small studio apartment in Brooklyn and a job in a quiet pub walking distance from her apartment that let her study when business was slow gave her the new start she longed for.

She was alone in the city and it didn’t bother her, she liked the solitude and freedom to do as she pleased. The other employees at the Celtic Harp pub looked out for her, and she met some people in her classes but she avoided relationships that could leave her even more emotionally scarred than she already was. There were many men, customers and classmates that she found attractive, however she was always looking at what could happen, and the what ifs in life terrified her.

Now 23, Sophie had graduated college and was still working at the Celtic Harp while searching for gallery jobs. Unpaid internships kept her days busy but left her nights free for work, which made it possible for her to pay the bills and put food on her table. The long hours allowed her to keep busy and avoid making plans with people that weren't work related.

It was late Tuesday afternoon when she walked into the pub for her shift wearing her usual dark wash jeans, grey low top Converse shoes and white v-neck tshirt with her hair back in a straight ponytail. She walked behind the bar and slipped her dark green apron on before getting to work restocking glasses and other bar goods she'd need for her shift. Tuesdays were notoriously slow and the few other employees were off completing their daily tasks, leaving Sophia to get lost in her thoughts.
 
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Doug spent a couple of weeks checking out various bars all around the five boroughs and nearby suburbs. He quickly figured out that most of the New Jersey places were dead ends. He had found a couple of possibilities in Connecticut. But both of them turned out to be such lousy lays that he didn’t see any way either would fit his needs. The main thing he learned so far was that the small. neighborhood places seemed to offer the best possibilities. With that in mind he found himself wandering the streets of Brooklyn on a dreary Tuesday afternoon. He had been in three bars already and found nothing of interest.

As he walked in the Celtic Harp, he was pretty sure it was another wasted stop. The place was dark, empty and silent. But there was something about the bartender that captured his interest. Since her back was to the door, he had a chance to look her over without her knowledge. Though she was just a bit too slender for his usual taste, her ass looked good in jeans and his mind wandered to the idea of either undoing her long blond pony tail or using it like reigns as he rode her lithe young body. He purposely made loud footfalls on the wooden floors with his heavy hiking boots as he approached the bar.

“This bitch is definitely worth a little time…..” He thought as he slid his ass onto a well worn bar stool.
 
Lost in thoughts of her internship, Sophie didn't hear the door of the pub open. though not focused on her work, each glass that she was drying was spotless and placed immaculately in its proper spot on the back bar.

The sound of footsteps drew her back to the present with a startled jump. She turned towards the antique oak bar and put on the welcoming smile she greeted customers with, a perfectly staged smile that disguised the pain and fear of being hurt that was nearly always present in her emerald green eyes. She glanced at the man as he sat down before simultaneously continuing her tasks and greeting the new patron.

"Welcome to the Celtic Harp, what can I get started for you?" She asked as she set down her towel and cleared the rack of glasses from the top of the bar. Having a customer on a Tuesday afternoon was somewhat uncommon. That customer not being a regular was even more of a rarity.
 
Her obviously faked plastic smile was like uncounted others. For a moment he thought she was yet another dead end. But there was something in her startling green eyes that drew him in. There should have been a sparkle to go with the put on smile. But there was a fear in those eyes that intrigued him. That spelled potential to Doug. His hunter instinct took hold. The smile he returned was far more genuine than the one she wore. He was truly happy to have found a prospect.

“Let’s see, first thing you thing you can do for me is lose that smile that is intended to tell me you actually give a shit about some guy who happens into your place at a time when you would rather not be bothered. Next, you can ask me a question that will tell you which of your magic potions will make me glad I decided to walk into your little hole in the wall.”

Doug studied his prey as he spoke and awaited her reaction to his blunt manner.
 
Sophie looked away almost as soon as their eyes connected. His words caught her off guard, she wasn't at all expecting this new patron to be so blunt, or to be able to read her that accurately, nobody ever had.

She bit her lip and picked up a copy of the pub's drink list, various tap beers, bottled micro brews and an extensive liquor list ranging from rail to premium, sliding it in front of him on the bar. "Can I interest you in a drink?" she asked, stepping closer to the back bar in an attempt at putting distance between herself and this new customer.
 
His move only half worked. The barkeep was definitely put off her game, but she didn’t really offer up the kind of question he was seeking. Doug was hoping for something that would help start a conversation. All he got was the standard offer he could expect at any bar.

“Wrong question…if I wasn’t interested in a drink, it isn’t likely I would be sitting here, not that the view is unpleasant,” He said and chuckled softly. “Then again I could be the dumbest fucking criminal in the city and be planning to rob the place even though the till can’t have more than 20 or 30 dollars in change in it at the moment.”

He paused for a minute and studied her as he thought about his next move.

“Any chance you have a bottle of Crown XR stashed anywhere back there?”

Doug doubted that the place stocked any hundred and fifty dollar bottles of whisky, but the question would test her knowledge of fine liquor.
 
Sophie glanced at the man when he spoke, his words yet again not at all what she expected a typical patron to say. She blushed slightly as his comment about the view not being unpleasant, and tensed at what she hoped was a joke about robbing the bar.

His request for Crown XR yet again surprised her. She picked up a skeleton key from the shelf below the cash register and walked a few steps to a cabinet with lead glass doors and unlocked it, searching the shelves of expensive liquors, pulling out the bottle.

"We don't list it, but the owner insists we keep a selection of premium spirits on hand," she explained, setting the bottle on the bar. She ran her thumb along the cap of the bottle. "I assume you're aware that it's an expensive pour?" she asked, following protocol before serving any of their premium selections.
 
Doug smiled and nodded. Then he casually slipped a black credit card onto the counter.

“I’ll have mine with a couple of cubes and a kiss blown over it. Fix yours however you like,” He said in the way men who are not expecting to hear no say things.

The smile never left his face nor did he blink as he waited for her response.
 
Sophie wasted no time and picked up a rocks glass, adding a small scoop of ice cubes before uncapping the bottle and pouring the liquid in. Her years at the bar had allowed her to pour an exact amount without the need to measure.

She set a black bar napkin in front of him and placed the glass on top, tapping a few options on the screen of the cash register, opening a tab with his elite credit card. "Thank you, but I have a personal rule that I don't drink during my shifts," she explained as she capped the bottle and set it behind her on the back bar.
 
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Doug was not pleased with her rejection of his drink offer. However, he wasn’t sure how far he could push her so soon after meeting. He lifted the class of rich brown liquid and gently swirled the elixir. The quality showed in the way the whisky clung to the glass. He smiled as he slowly brought the drink to his lips.

“Either you are sleeping with the owner or confidant that he won’t find out that you just turned down a rather large sum that I would have been charged for the drink I just offered you,” Doug observed as he set the glass back down on the bar.

As he waited for her reaction, Doug began to doubt his original thought that she was a prospect. But he wasn’t ready to give up on her just yet.
 
Sophie watched him swirl the contents of his glass, watching the smile return to his lips. His comment making her feel like an idiot.

That thought hadn't crossed her mind. Her rule not to drink while she was behind the bar was no secret, but she'd also never had someone offer to pay for her to have a drink of anything they stocked in the locked cabinet. She silently hoped Jack, the owner, didn't stop in tonight.

"I can assure you it isn't the former" Sophie said, glancing towards him, her eyes locking with his for a brief second before she diverted her gaze again.
 
Doug knew that he had somehow struck a nerve. He was glad that she had denied being the bar owners whore. Even though he was already thinking about turning her into his chattel, he preferred her be principled.

“At least you’re no one’s whore,” He mused as if such topics were acceptable in polite conversations with strangers, “Not for a job or a tip.”

He let his statement hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

“Tell you what, make the drink, double my bill, and then pour it down your throat or the sink. I don’t actually give a fuck. If you are too pretty or sexy, or maybe just too big for your panties to drink with me so be it!”

With that he drained the rest of his glass.
 
With his next comment, Sophie's already emerald eyes developed an even deeper hue, her jaw tensing as she tried to formulate a reply. Before she could say anything, he continued, giving her another opportunity to pour herself the drink he had ordered for her.

She picked up the bottle without missing a beat, shaking her head as she poured her glass of whiskey straight up.

In the five years that she'd worked at the bar, she had never served a customer as brazen as this man. Of course she'd dealt with plenty of inappropriate comments from both men and women who had a few too many drinks, but the customer sitting at the bar right now was different. While she couldn't begin to guess where it came from, she knew his overly confident attitude didn't come from the contents of a bottle.

"Being someone's whore doesn't appeal to me," she replied coolly. "I can take care of myself, and I'm content with that," she added, picking up her glass and taking a sip.
 
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Though he wasn’t about to let her know it, Doug was impressed by her cool demeanor. As far as what appealed to her, he didn’t care. As she took a sip of the warm whisky he made his decision. She was going to be his. She would soon be doing things for him and with him that he was certain she had never imagined doing before. Oddly, as unlikely as it seemed from her attitude, he was certain that she would come to love both him and being his whore.

“To taking care of yourself,” He said as he raised his glass in her direction.

Doug smiled at her as he contemplated his next move. With most of the women he found behind bars all it would take was the right amount of money to get them to spread their legs. Though he imagined that even a woman like Sophia had her price too, he wasn’t interested in testing that theory. She had declared her disinterest in being a whore and even the offer of a king’s ransom might well spook the prey and end the hunt.

“I have to tell you, I didn’t come in here looking for anything more than a drink and maybe a pleasant conversation to kill some time. I got lucky and found an interesting woman. I would like to know you better. But I have somewhere I have to be soon.”

The needing to be somewhere was a lie. Doug was his own man and did only what he pleased. However, it seemed a good excuse to test her interest in seeing him again.

“So, tell me, what would I need to do to convince you to let me buy you dinner on your next night off?” He asked.

Doug had considered adding a promise not to try and fuck her, but decided that he should back off on his bravado a bit.
 
Sophie took another sip and looked at the contents of her glass before glancing up at him again. She set her glass down and and updated his tab on the cash register's touch screen, his words once again surprising her.

Was he really asking her out? After the conversation that had transpired during his time in the pub that was the last thing she would have expected. She'd been asked out by customers before and declined every offer, dates would mean opening herself up to someone, and could lead to getting hurt again. Was she even interested in this guy? She only knew his name was Douglas based on the print on his elite status credit card.

"I'm very flattered, and please don't take this personally," she said, her eyes locking with his for a moment before focusing her gaze elsewhere and speaking again "but I'm not dating right now." She picked up her glass and took another drink letting the premium whiskey coat her tongue before swallowing. "It's another part of taking care of myself," she added before setting her empty glass in the sink beneath the bar.
 
Doug’s calm demeanor turned dark. Though he had anticipated a rejection, he still did not like it. He felt a tightening in his chest and his pupils had narrowed. The sudden steeliness of his stare would cause many strong men to beg his forgiveness.

“I am sorry that I need to inform you of the simple fact that it is impossible not to take a rejection personally,” He said coldly. “But so be it! However before I leave you need to know two things. The first is that I offered you dinner, not a roll in the hay. As pretty as you are, it would take considerably more on your part to get me out of my pants. The second thing you need to know is not every offer from a man equals a date.”

Doug’s anger drained away as fast as it came. The smile returned to his face as he asked her to close his tab.

“I won’t bother you any further. Except to ask, what the fuck does not dating right now mean? Denying your body’s needs no matter what they may be is not healthy, babe.”

He was no longer in the mood to keep his bravado in chec
 
Sophie felt his mood change, it was like he controlled the atmosphere in the bar. She bit her lip and picked at an invisible piece of fuzz on her apron to avoid meeting his eyes. Where the hell was everyone else? Someone else behind the bar would have made all of this so much less uncomfortable.

The iciness of his tone forced her breath to catch in her throat. She tensed her jaw at his remarks about not having offered her a roll in the hay. As quickly as he asked her to close his tab, her back was to him to press the necessary keys on the screen. She opened a black leather check folder and slid the freshly printed sheets of paper inside, grabbing a pen as she turned back to him, having composed herself while she was turned away.

His sudden shift back to calm was unexpected as she set the check in front of him while he spoke, asking what was to her, a rather personal question.

Sophie crossed her arms in front of her and found the nerve to connect her eyes with his again. "It means life dealt me a couple pretty shitty hands and I'm still trying to recover from that," her green eyes sparkling in a torrent of emotions. "Like I said, it's part of me taking care of myself," she added as she picked up his glass and put it in the sink beneath the bar.

She was fully aware that her rejection of his offer for dinner and her more recent comments may have just cost her a rather sizable tip but it hardly mattered to her at this point. She didn't feel like she owed him anything, or that she should have to justify her reason anymore than she just had.
 
Doug opened the black folder and without looking at the charge wrote $100 on the tip line. Then he scribbled something resembling his signature at the bottom and quickly closed the folder without letting her see what he wrote. He slipped off the bar stool and took out his wallet to put away the credit card. All the while he wore a sad expression which was only partially faked. Doug felt a genuine sadness for the women. He knew what it was to shut your true self off. Though he had no idea what had driven her to withdraw, Doug was certain that it wasn’t the path to recovery. He was also even more certain that he had found the one he had been seeking. There was no question in his mind that he would possess the green eyed blonde.

As he turned to leave, he stopped as if a sudden thought had come to him.

“You know if you let yourself you might find someone in the world that understands life’s shitty moments. I’ve found that talking over bad things can help. So if you ever happen to figure out that curling up in a ball isn’t taking care of yourself, call me,” He said softly as he put a business-type card on the bar. “You are far too, young, pretty and tough to live among the dead.”

Doug turned and walked out without waiting for her response.
 
Sophie quickly washed their glasses as he signed his charge slip, setting them in the rack to dry. She looked up just as he turned to leave, relieved that he was finally heading out. She bit her lip and avoided his gaze when he turned back towards the bar and spoke again.

She leaned against the back bar and listened to his words being spoken, hating him for being able to read her and assuming things that weren't true, or at least that she hadn't allowed herself to admit.

Her eyes followed him as he turned around again and walked out the door. She wiped down the bar and bit her lip, his monologue replaying over and over in her head. She wasn't curling up in a ball and she certainly wasn't living among the dead. She was starting her life, internships in major art galleries, a job she enjoyed, most of the time. He was way off base, wasn't he?

She picked up the black leather folder and opened it, her eyebrow lifting when she saw the tip he'd left. He completely puzzled her. She had turned down his drink, turned down his offer for dinner yet he left her with a tip that was more than her usual total for a Tuesday night. He'd also left his card in case she ever decided she was ready to talk. She slid his card into her pocket and put the signed copy of the receipt in the register, cashing out her tip before continuing with the rest of her early shift duties.

The night passed slowly, the rain made a regularly quiet night all the more quiet. The night manager gave her permission to leave at midnight and insisted on giving her cab fair because of the weather. She got home and changed into sweats before getting into bed. She lay there, listening to the rain falling against her bedroom window and replayed her strange afternoon over and over in her mind, shaking her head before closing her eyes and trying to sleep.
 
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Doug headed down the street. He almost had to force himself to continue moving away from the bar. His desire to possess the blond barkeep was nearly overpowering. He was several blocks away when he ducked into another neighborhood bar. This one had a surely old man behind the bar and several drunks halfway in the bag as customers. Doug ordered a draft and took a table as far away from the other patrons as possible. Though he knew it unlikely he was hoping that his prey would use the phone number soon. With that in mind he sat in the dingy bar and nursed two beers for nearly two hours. Finally, he gave up and called his chauffeur.

The limo slipped out of Brooklyn and soon deposited the wealthy hunter at the Plaza. Doug used the private elevator to the penthouse. He stripped his clothes off as he moved through the plush environs, knowing they would be picked up and taken to the laundry before he awoke. He fell into bed nude and spent a restless night dreaming of a life that included owning the willowy blond.
 
After spending most of the night in bed, unable to sleep and growing more and more frustrated with the conversation she'd had with Douglas at the beginning of her shift, Sophie got out of bed and walked to the work bench where her beading supplies lay perfectly organized. Following patterns to create pieces of jewelry was her escape, how she got her mind off of things that were bothering her.

After finishing a bracelet and making a cup off coffee she felt more centered but was still frustrated. She picked up her phone and the business card she had thought repeatedly about throwing out before leaving work the previous night, and sat down on her couch. The early portion of her shift replayed twice in her head before she gathered the courage to dial his phone number,

Her knee bounced as the call connected. A large part of her hoping it would go to voicemail as she listened to it ring.
 
Doug lay in bed, absentmindedly fondling his morning erection, trying to work up the energy to go drain his bladder. The annoying sound of his cell phone startled him from his not so dreamy thoughts about the blond bartender. Few people had his private number. There was his lawyer and his business manager who had it for emergencies and a couple of close friends. No friend would call him in the morning knowing he was a creature of the night.

Doug swung his legs off the bed as he picked up the buzzing device. Since he didn’t recognize the number he realized it could only be the bartender from the previous afternoon. He was pleased as well as surprised.

“Hello, I hope this call means that you have decided to join me for dinner,” Doug said confidently letting the caller know he didn’t give that number to just anyone.

Hearing her breathing on the phone added to Doug’s arousal. As he awaited her response he began to slowly stroke his still hard cock.
 
As she heard his voice, Sophie inhaled sharply, realizing she wasn't at all prepared to answer his greeting. She hadn't planned to take him up on his offer for dinner, she wasn't even sure she ever wanted to see him again. When she dialed his number, all she had planned to do was tell him how incorrect his assumptions about her had been.

It was clear that any bruising of his ego she had done when she declined his offer the previous evening had healed, his confident tone fully present in his words.

"It's up to you," she said after pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, "I could tell you how far off base you were in your analysis of me on the phone, or I can do it in person" She was leaving it up to him, silently hoping he'd make it easy on the both of them and just let her tell him over the phone.
 
Doug smiled. She was hitting at the bait and now it was time to set the hook.

“I can’t imagine that I am as far off as you want to believe. Nor do I believe that you called just to protest the thoughts of a random stranger. But whatever the case, I am certain that this conversation would be far more meaningful in person. When are you free and where shall I pick you up?” He asked confidant that she was far too curious about him to refuse the offer.

Though he was trying to control his arousal and mostly succeeding, there was clearly a change in his breathing as he awaited her answer.
 
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