Bought by the Billionaire

By Gwendolyn Bridges

Plus-sized entrepreneur Leah McGuire thinks she’s really screwed up when her hot-tempered billionaire client overhears her insulting him. But instead of getting mad, the enigmatic billionaire makes her an offer. He’ll give Leah a check for a million dollars, he says, but only if she agrees to his terms. Little does Leah know that his terms involve a secluded warehouse, sex toys, a length of rope and her complete and total submission.

WARNING: This 10,000 word BBW BDSM story includes scenes of complete domination and submission, where a plus-sized woman is ordered to crawl across the floor, along with rope bondage, tied-up sex and a white hot climax.

EXCERPT

He gave his next command.

“On your knees,” he said.

I listened, first kicking off my heels — the last article of clothing of any type I had on me — and then kneeled down on the cold tile floor, facing him. Inches in front of my face, I could see the bulge in his pants. He was turned on — we both were.

“Now,” he said quietly. “I want you to go over to that shelf over there. And I want you to select one of those sex toys and then I want you to come back over to me with it.”

I started to stand up again, but he placed a firm hand on my head to prevent me from getting to my feet.

“No,” he said. “Crawl.”

This is so degrading, I thought. This is wrong. But if that was true, then why was I so eager to comply? To please him? I was feeling things I had never felt before.
I turned and started to crawl, feeling utterly depraved as my hands and knees slid across the tile floor. I could feel his eyes on me — watching me — as I crawled away from him toward the shelf against the wall on one side of the room.

It must have held more than two dozen sex toys and vibrators, of all shapes and sizes.

Select one, he had said. But for what? I wondered. I had questions. I was so used to asking questions. But I knew that wasn’t permitted. Not in this weird room I found myself in.

I decided to be bold, picking up one of the larger ones — jet black with a ribbed surface, it was probably eight inches in length and thick all the way across.

I turned around and looked at the billionaire again. He hadn’t moved.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now bring it back to me.”

I started to crawl forward with the sex toy in my hand, but he quickly issued another order.

“Carry it in your mouth,” he said.

I brought it to my lips. It was too thick to carry sideways — like a dog carries a bone — so instead I sucked its length, taking as much as I could into my mouth. With most of the sex toy still protruding past my lips, I crawled before him slowly, ever so careful not to drop it.

The billionaire looked pleased as I kneeled in front of him once again.

“Good, Ms. McGuire. But I couldn’t help but notice as you crawled across my floor that you look rather aroused. Are you aroused, Ms. McGuire?”

I said nothing. I remembered the rules.

“You may speak,” he said, with a half smile.

“Yes,” I whispered, my face growing red with shame.

“I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I said again, louder this time, turning my eyes from the floor up to meet his gaze.

“Show me,” he demanded, “I want you to lay back and spread your legs for me.”

For me, he had said. Those two words echoed in my head. Yes, I thought — I’ll do it. I’ll do it for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwendolyn Bridges
• Release date: Aug 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301319206

Gwendolyn Bridges

Gwen is a writer who lives in Toronto with some cats.

Book preview

BOUGHT BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Gwendolyn Bridges

Smashwords Edition, Copyright 2013

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The limousine pulled up in front of our store on 52nd street, the engine beneath the shiny black hood of the car so perfectly tuned that it barely made a sound. It didn’t need to announce its presence. When Desmond Mistry’s car approached, people automatically stopped and gawked.

I stood inside the store behind the sales desk, watching out the storefront window as an elderly looking chauffeur with a moustache emerged from the driver’s seat and came around to open the door. My partner and best friend Trina popped out from the limousine. Her eyes locked with mine and she gave me a scowl — a shared look that she knew only I would notice.

Mr. Mistry followed her out of the car, stepping onto the street with a bored look on his face. He was clad in the finest custom-made suit and shoes so shiny that they seemed to fire off beams of light. I thought I saw him look at me, and so I gave him my best professional smile. But he just turned and looked at his watch.

Trina and I had opened our business four months ago, and there was no denying that landing Mr. Mistry as a client was a huge win for us. His resources and renown were unmatched.. A regular staple of the society pages, the long-haired brooding billionaire was said to have a near limitless supply of friends and hangers-on.

He was also known as a really big jerk. But Trina and I could hardly let that stop us from working with him.

When Trina convinced me to open our own business providing personal shopping and tailoring services for men in the city, I was skeptical. I had agreed to be her partner mostly because I knew how badly my best friend needed a fresh start. Her husband Billy had left her just a year beforehand, skipping town to mingle with someone named Mindy. The idea of a successful business was the only thing Trina had to really focus on in those trying few months.

And she poured her heart into it — I couldn’t deny her that. I’d never seen anyone work as hard as she did to set things up.

Plus, from the days when we first met as second graders and she convinced me to play doctor with Sammy who lived around the block, I had always been bad at saying no to her,. She had a way of arguing against my cold logic with relentless, sunny optimism. She’d leave me powerless to resist.

So when the business started slow, and we watched our investments circle the drain, she still came to work with an unrelenting smile.

No worries, Leah,