Lana felt like she was in some kind of surreal alternate universe.

What was she doing in this stranger's car, dressed like a whore (a whore with very expensive workout clothes, but a whore nonetheless,) with her legs spread ludely apart?

She had started this out of necessity, to get herself out of a difficult financial situation. Her friend Jenny had been very emphatic that this was a simple solution to a complicated problem.

She'd always known in the back of her head that she could fall back on using her body and her ability to garner the attention of men to get things she wanted or needed. She'd just never really considered the details of what that meant, or how far she might be willing to go.

The totally unexpected part, however, was her visceral reaction to him and the way he had immediately taken control of her.

He was an okay looking guy, but not someone you would think of as the type that women fall all over.

But he had cast some kind of net over her within seconds, and she felt caught up in it . . . And she felt that she desperately wanted to be caught up in it.

Certainly her body had betrayed her physical reaction as even now the front of her yoga pants was literally soaked from her thoroughly wet pussy.

She was silently thankful that she had selected black pants, so that the growing wetness didn't show up quite as prominently as it might have with lighter colored clothing.

Even still, he had ordered her to spread her legs wide, and she knew it would be obvious to him with only a glance that she was soaking wet.

This idea going through her head only made things worse. She let out a little moan and involuntarily thrust her pelvis forward slightly, and ran her hands along the length of her long legs.

He glanced over at her, still with that infuriating smirk.

"Put your hands up behind the head rest and leave them there."

She glanced over at him, a bit surprised, but not as surprised as she was by the fact that she immediately did as she was told and squeaked out a, "Yes Sir."

"What's going on with your pants there, Lana?"

She flushed with embarrassment at the direct question and didn't immediately answer.

"Here's another rule, Lana. When I ask you a question, you are to answer immediately. I want to know your instant reactions to my questions. You will not hesitate, and you will not hold back. Understand?"

Immediately: "Yes Sir."

"Now let's try this again. What's going on at the front of your slutty yoga pants?"

"They're all wet sir."

"And what made them all wet, Lana?"

"My pussy got soaking wet, and that got my pants all wet."

"Are you wearing any panties, Lana?"

"No Sir."

"That's very slutty of you Lana. Why aren't you wearing panties?"

"I didn't want to ruin the smooth line of my tight yoga pants, Sir. I wanted my legs and ass to be perfectly smooth for you, Sir."

She was shocked at the response that had come out of her mouth. But she realized right away that it was true. She wanted to please him.

"I see. I like that, Lana. Good girl. Good, slutty girl, but good girl."

She felt that tingling up her spine again when he used that "good girl" phrase with her. It made her feel thoroughly owned and it made her feel wonderful to have pleased him.

What the fuck was going on with her? Where were these feelings for this stranger coming from?

It occurred to her that, other than shaking her hand, he had made absolutely no move to touch her in any way. Hell, he had barely even looked at her. But still, here she was, a wet slutty mess, hanging on his every word, and getting more and more turned on every minute.

She looked around and saw that they were approaching the downtown area.

They stopped at a light and there were some men crossing the street. It was then that she realized that Mr. Smith's car had very little tint in the windows. Anybody walking near his car would have a full view of her, sitting on the front seat with her legs spread wide and her hands up around the head rest.

She felt petrified as they walked by. A couple of them noticed her and leered at her as they passed, but didn't really slow down. Part of her wanted to close her legs and cover herself with her arms, but she resisted.

When their light turned green and they proceeded on, he said, "Very good Lana. That was disciplined of you. A lot of girls would have disobeyed me in that situation. And then they would have been punished."

Her reaction was ambiguous - delight in response to his praise, as well as both fear and excitement as the thought of "punishment." Was this guy for real?

"Thank you Sir," she said.

And then, "Punishment, Sir?"

"There's plenty of time for all that Lana. You will learn. One step at a time."

She had a suspcion where they were headed, and she was right. They pulled into a parking garage under the tallest building downtown. They wound around to what looked like a special parking area with it's own garage within the garage. He pulled in and pressed a button in his car that caused the garage door to close behind them. She saw that there was an elevator entrance right there in his garage. Fancy.

He looked over at her, looking her up and down.

"Lana, I'm going to invite you up to my penthouse. I want us to be clear that you are doing everything I'm asking of your own free will. I'm inviting you up as my guest. Are we clear?"

"Yes Sir. I'd love to be your guest, Sir."

"Good. You can take your hands down off the head rest and you can stop spreading your legs. Get out of the car."

"Yes Sir."

He got out and she followed him. He brought out some kind of card that he held near to a sensor on the elevator, and the door opened.

He walked in and she followed.

"Get down on your knees in the corner, Lana."

She gasped a little but did not hesitate. She walked to the corner and got down on her knees facing him, hands behind her back.

He had his phone out, messing with it, completely ignoring her.

It took about 90 seconds or so to get to his penthouse at the top of the building, but to her it felt like an hour.

Kneeling for him this made her feel like a little owned slut.

And the idea was making her even wetter and hornier if that was possible. She felt that if she even lightly ran her finger against her clit right now that she would cum instantly. But she didn't dare touch herself, as she was somehow very sure that that would displease him.

The eleveator stopped and the doors opened. He walked out and left her kneeling there.

She had a notion that she was being tested again. She thought she knew what expected of her. She stayed kneeling in the corner of the elevator. It seemed the doors were staying open, either because she was still in there or because he had somehow set them to do so.

She looked out into his penthouse apartment. The walls were floor to ceiling windows and there was a full bar on one side, and what had to be an incredibly expensive European-made sectional facing the elevator.

She watched as he made himself a drink, what looked like very expensive Scotch.

He sat down on the couch, facing her, sipping his drink, and continuing to look at his phone.

After what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at her.

The smirk was back. "Well done, Lana."

"Another rule. On this occasion, I am pleased by your outfit and want you to keep it on for now. But the normal rule is that when you get in that elevator, you will strip down to your panties and kneel in the corner while it goes up to my penthouse. Understood?"

"When you enter this apartment, you will do so starting on your knees in the elevator, and then crawling into the apartment on all fours. You will crawl to your place and then you will kneel again."

"Yes Sir."

"Here is your place." He pointed to a spot near the end table on the other side of the sectional.

"Crawl."

She looked at him, flushed, unable to believe this situation, unable to comprehend how incredibly turned on she was by it.

She got onto her hands and knees, and she crawled to her place, and resumed her kneeling position. Her legs were quivering and her pants were absolutely soaked.

He walked up to her then, standing in front of her, looking down at her, finally giving her body his full attention, his eyes taking in every inch of her.

"Lana, I want your permission to touch you whenever I like, however I like. We will use two simple code words. 'Yellow" means we are approaching a limit of something you can't tolerate. 'Red" means we've reached your limit and I will stop whatever we are doing immediately. Absent those code words, I will do anything and everything I want to you, and you will do anything and everything I tell you to do. Agreed?"

She looked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by her desire. She simply couldn't believe this was happening and couldn't believe how much she wanted it and craved it.

"Yes Sir. I agree."

"Good girl, Lana."

Her wet lips parted and she let out a sigh, hearing those words.

He squatted down in front of her, his face less than an inch from hers. The smirk was back. Before she knew it he had reached his hand between her legs.

He used his forefinger and middle finger and started at her ass, and dragged the fingers up over her pussy, stopping to move them in little circles on her clit.

She gasped at his touch and let out a moan.

He increased the pressure on her clit, making the circles faster.

"Lana," he said, his voice cool and calculated, completely in control, "Another rule. You may NEVER cum without my permission. Understood?"

"Yesss, Sirrr" she said breathily through moans and gasps.

Then she realized this was another test.

She steeled herself against his touch, willing herself not to cum. The sensation was maddening.

"Lana," he said as he continued to rub her clit, "Would you like to ask me something?"

"Yes Sir. May I please cum, Sir?"

He suddenly stopped touching her and pulled his hand away. She nearly screamed in frustration.

"Pull your slutty little yoga pants down to your knees, Lana."

"Yes Sir."

She did as she was told, pulling down her pants and exposing herself to him. She waited, feeling waves of lust as she kneeled there, her wet pussy open and available to him.

He moved close again and ran his fingers along her inner thighs and up to her pussy, causing her to moan uncontrollably.

"Put your hands behind your head. You are not permitted to stop kneeling. Stay on your knees."

"Yes Sir."

"You may cum, Lana."

He suddenly and forcefully pressed two fingers into her pussy and pressed his thumb against her clit, moving in fast circles.

She let out a scream as she began to cum. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and it took every bit of concentration she had to keep her arms in place and continue to stay in her kneeling position.

As she ran out of breath, her body convulsed, her mouth wide open. She gasped and screamed again as the orgasm rocked her.

He moved his fingers in and our of her and continued the motion on her clit continuously, drawing it out . . . It was almost agony for her.

Just when she thought she couldn't possible take any more, he pulled his hand away.

She quivered there, unable to believe the intensity of what she had just experienced.

She looked up at him, panting, doe eyed.

She felt a mixture of immense sexual satisfaction and pride that she had obeyed, and kept her position while he allowed her to cum.

"Open your mouth Lana."

She obeyed.

He slid his fingers into her mouth. "Taste yourself."

She greedily sucked and licked her juices from his fingers.

"How do you taste, Lana?"

"Sweet and dirty. Like a good little slut should."

"Good girl, Lana. Good girl."