“Draya, come here.”
The words are swallowed the large room, a home movie theater that could easily seat fifty. However, the recipient of the words still hears them.
“Yes, master.”
The sound of shuffling feet can be heard on the carpet as the woman makes her way towards the speaker: her master. She has been his for a four years now, and has proven to be the only servant of her kind he has needed in those four years.
Reclining in a comfortable seat in the middle of the top row, sits one Darius Mcintyre. Like his namesake Persian emperor, Darius has spent his life fighting, conquering, and *taking*. He has fought his way up the social ladders of the elite, conquered a vast fortune for himself, and has taken whatever he wants. When Darius commands, the world obeys, and with nobody is that more true than Draya.
As she quickly but elegantly walks from her position at the edge of a lower-middle row towards her master, Darius thinks back to when he first laid eyes on her.
She had been someone else then, in a different life. She used to have a different name, a boring one, he had thought. Rachel, she had been, and Rachel had been in dire trouble. In stark contrast to him, she was in deep financial trouble, couldn’t fight her way out paper bag, and couldn’t dream about taking anything more than her anti-anxiety meds.
He had offered her something she couldn’t have possibly imagined. He promised to make all her troubles go away, her money issues, her troubled relationship with her divorced parents, her anxiety, all of it. He promised her total mental and emotional freedom, if only she gave up her physical freedom.
She could say and do whatever she wanted. Buy whatever she wanted, go where she pleased. However, she could only do those things so long as he let her. If he needed her, she was *his*.
“Like a sugar daddy?” she had said, skeptical.
“No,” he had replied with a twinkle in his eye, “Like a servant. One that is at my beck and call, but will never have to fret about anything ever again. Think about it. You give me a call, and I can have you on a plane in half an hour, and your problems will be nothing more than ashes in the wind, instead of the flames trying to burn you alive.”
It had taken longer than he expected, a full month, but when the bank began threatening to repossess her house, she had picked up that business card and given him a call.
Now, four years later, she knows it was the best decision of her life. True to his word, her money troubles had vanished overnight, she didn’t have to deal with her bitter mother and drunken father, and she was treated to a life of luxury she had only dreamed of before. There isn’t an island in the whole Caribbean she hasn’t been to, not a fine wine she hadn’t tried, and not a single piece of clothing she hasn’t worn within hours of requesting it.
In return, she allowed Darius to conquer the last thing he truly needed: her. He needed someone beautiful to obey him in the bedroom like his butlers and chauffers do everywhere else. He needed to have that rush of power and authority that can only be created by someone fully and willingly submitting to him.
At first Rachel had been questioning, not thrilled to be what she saw at the time as a sex servant, but as time went on, she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying it more and more. In time, she gladly accepted the new name he gave her, symbolically wiping away the last remnants of her former life and affirming her exotic nature.
In a way, she’s the heart of the Darius Mcintyre empire, using her talents both sexual and emotional to soothe and guide her master through every bump in the metaphorical road. She always knows the right words to whisper in his ear, the right way to turn an innocent massage into something more… sensual when she can feel his frustration.
That’s not to say she’s just a quiet servant, however. No, she can be quite feisty at times as well. Flashing her lingerie at Darius while he’s in a meeting and she knows he can see him, whispering filthy things to him while he’s on important calls, sometimes even flirting with other, more normal servants just to drive Darius mad with jealousy.
As Draya reaches the top row and turns to begin making her way towards Darius, he holds up a hand and motions for her wait where she is. She stops and gives him a lopsided smile, a twinkle in her eye as she waits for him to speak again.
“Did you enjoy the movie?” He asks. The film was one of the early James Bond movies, filled with action, intrigue, and of course the beautiful women the super-spy always manages to bed before the credits, usually multiple times.
“I did, Sir. Bond certainly was dashing…” She gives him a wink, and he can’t help but smirk.
“Well, I was more focused on the woman he seduced at the end. The one with the *very* crude name.” As he speaks, Darius stands up and makes his way towards Draya. He only stops once he’s exited the row and is standing a few feet in front of the one woman he trusts so completely.
Draya rolls her eyes good-naturedly, remembering the explicitly named Bond girl in question. “Are you sure that’s who you were interested in Sir?” She begins coyly. “I caught you glancing down at me more than once…”
“And I seem to remember telling you to not turn around,” Darius counters, pretending to be stern. “We’re you so busy swooning over a spy that you forgot my instructions?”
“I’m sorry Sir,” Stays replies, still smiling. “I *did* remember the other thing you told me to do.”
Darius holds his hand out expectantly, waiting for her to put something in it. With a dramatic sigh of annoyance, she reaches under the part in her dress revealing her toned leg and begins tugging. Soon, a pair of black, lacy panties is visible sliding down her legs towards her matching high heels.
Once she’s tugged them off herself and put them in Darius’s hands, she comments, “Three times, as promised.” He nods in approval.
“I heard the second time you came, I guess Bond must’ve really gotten to you that time,” he jabs.
“Well judging by the bulge in your pants I’d say something’s gotten to you too, and I don’t think the Bond girl was your type.” She sees her master’s eyes dip down to the low neckline of her silky black dress, accentuating her naturally full breasts and her tanned, flawless skin.
“Don’t get mouthy,” he warns, taking a step towards her.
“Or else what?” She stubbornly asks, knowing full well where this is going to go.
“Or else I’ll put it to better use,” Darius threatens, wanting to maintain his control. He very much enjoys when she gets a bit bratty, because it gives him an excuse to put her back in her place in ways they both love.
Cocking her hip to the side, Draya asks, “Is that so? What if I don’t want that?”
Grinning, Darius counters, “You know I will. And I know you want it by how sodden your panties are in my hand. You can’t tell me thinking about James *Bond* made you put on the waterworks like this. Now if you don’t stop mouthing off, I’ll make sure that dripping pussy isn’t put to waste.
Draya takes a moment to contemplate her next move, and smiles. Feeling more than a little cheeky, she says with a grin of her own, “I think you’re bluffing. I don’t think I’m really in the mood right now.” Then, she boldly turns and begins to walk away, heading for the exit but knowing she’ll get at most four steps before Darius pulls her back.
It turns out to be only three steps before her master is grabbing her and spinning her around. He grabs her wrists and pins her against him so she can feel his erection, then says in a quiet but forceful voice, “Where do you think you’re going? You think you can just leave?”
With that, he releases her left hand to shove his hand underneath her dress. Cupping his hand, he feels the soaking wetness between her legs, and smiles when she softly grinds on his hand. “Much better,” he whispers as he sees his favorite servant grinning mischievously.
“You know how I can tell when you want it rough?” Darius asks as he releases her other hand. “You act like a little brat who’s let all my spoiling go to her head. But, I don’t think you’ll think you’ll object to this.”
With his right hand, he reaches out and grabs the collar of her delicate dress and yanks. The fabric tears easily, and within seconds in on the floor leaving Draya completely nude. Her nipples are hardened, and they both know it isn’t from the cold air in the theater.
“That dress was eight hundred dollars,” she complains halfheartedly as she’s bared before him.
“I could buy ten million of them and have plenty of money left over,” Darius growls before closing the distance between them again.
Their hands go to work, Draya’s working at her master’s belt whole his greedily touch her all over. The curve of her back, the round firmness of her ass, the back of her neck, he feels her up like he owns her, which in a way, he does.
Tilting her head back so he can reach her lips, Draya lets Darius’s mouth come crashing into hers as he forced his tongue into her mouth. She palms his manhood through his pants as she works to remove them, tossing his belt aside and working on the button.
As soon as Draya has his pants unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled down, he spins her around and pulls her against him. He grabs her breasts with his left hand while keeping her waist pressed against his with his right. She grinds on him through his boxers, feeling his member throbbing as he groans in pleasure.
Unable to take it anymore, Darius moves them into the nearest row and bends Draya over the seat in front of her. She puts her hand son the armrests in front of her for support, and turns to watch as Darius hurriedly pulls down his underwear. Once his underwear are around his mid thighs, he grabs her hip with his left hand, and his manhood with his right.
He doesn’t bother lubing himself up; he knows she’s soaking wet enough to take him easily. He lines himself up with her entrance and violently thrusts into her. The both gasp in pleasure, and Draya’s back arches slightly. He shoves her back down with his right hand and begins thrusting, not bothering to slowly speed up. Instead, he goes right to pounding her, grunting with each mighty thrust.
“Touch yourself while I fuck you,” he commands. “I want you to cum before I do, and I’m not holding back.”
“Yes sir,” she moans, using her right hand to play with her clit while he pounds away at her. His cock, a solid seven and a half inches, is more than enough to satisfy her whenever they have sex, and she lets her cries of pleasure fill the theater as they continue.
Shifting his hands to her breasts, he both takes handfuls of the soft flesh, squeezing, and uses them to pull her back into him to add force to his thrusting. The sound of smacking skin joins their grunts and moans, their passion the only noise besides the low whir of the projector still going.
Darius leans forward to nip and Draya’s neck as he ruts into her, and she instinctively tilts her head to the side to give him better access. “Good girl,” he growls into her ear, accompanying the praise with a smack to her ass.
Draya doesn’t respond with anything other than more moaning as she moves her hand even faster, trying to orgasm as quickly as possible. Her whole body shakes with each thrust, Darius’s powerful strokes making her legs feel weak.
“I’m close, master!” she cries out, her head hanging as she struggles to try and orgasm as fast as she can. Upon hearing this, Darius grabs her hair with his right hand and wrenches her upward, bending her back as she gasps.
“Fucking cum for me,” he orders. “Do it now.” Draya nods as best she can with her hair still in his grasp, and tries her hardest to orgasm. Her hand is a blur on her clit, and she squeezes her unoccupied left breast with her other hand. Her moans become near screams as after a few more seconds, she crashes over the edge.
Her insides clamp down on Darius as she orgasms, the wave of pleasure tearing through her. She goes limp besides the desperate hand on her clit, with only Darius’s hold of her hair keeping her up. Darius himself lets out a loud grunt as he feels his servant clench around him, and knows he won’t last much longer either.
He keeps up his relentless pace as the spasms begin to die down in Draya. Gradually her screams die down and she begins to recover her wits. And not a moment too soon, as Darius calls out, “On your knees. Finish me with your mouth. He pulls out with a groan, and waits for his servant’s eager mouth.
Immediately, Draya turns around and drops into a kneeling position, one made quite familiar over her years of service to Darius. The seats make for little room, but she manages as she captures his manhood in her mouth and begins obediently sucking.
Her tongue swirls around him as she bond her head along most of his length, and it sends Darius tumbling over the edge as well. He wraps his fingers on her hair and pushes her deeper on him, groaning loudly as he forced himself down her throat to release his load.
Draya allows him free reign, having no problem deepthroating him. She’s had plenty of practice, after all. She relishes the feeling of his warm stickiness erupting into her throat, and continues using her tongue to work the underside of his length.
After a few powerful shots of his semen, Darius lets out a sigh satisfaction and releases her hair. She slowly pulls her mouth off of him and swallows what little cum hadn’t found it’s way down her throat already. She sticks her tongue out for him to see that his load is gone, a favorite of his, and he smiles down at her broadly.
Running a hand through her hair, he hauls her to her feet and gently pushes her out of the row of seats and into the aisle where there’s much more space. Sitting down to catch his breath, he looks up at her and once again says the two words that always make her grin playfully: “Good girl.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/micak2/making_a_chilly_home_theater_much_hotter_mf_subf