Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire
Drake’s Story Chapter 5

He gave me a little smile and my heart spasmed. But I was thinking, ‘wait for it…’ knowing that the crazy or kinky or evil or a combo of any or all of the above would reveal itself sooner or later. It usually didn’t take long. The longer it took the more chances of it being brutal when it came.

“I like everything. What do you like?”

“I…” I swallowed and then stupidly I said, “Pasta.”

Damn, why did I give him a personal answer? I knew better than to give anyone ammo that could be used against me. I hadn’t had pasta in 2 years and the answer just slipped.

How could I let it slip?

“They don’t serve pasta?” He opened the menu and looked, “There’s a s**t load of pasta.”

I shook my head a little, “I’m not permitted pasta.” I stopped myself from ending with the ‘Sir’.

“Why not?” He c****d an eyebrow.

“Too fattening,” I answered.

His eyes roved over me and I knew he was assessing my body shape. I was very slender. I was fit and healthy but definitely 10-15 pounds underweight.

“What sauce do you like on your pasta?”

My eyes widened, “Anything, Sir. Drake.” Another blush.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Car- carbonara or alfredo.” I’d already let it slip so might as well let it all hang out.

He smiled at me again. My belly fluttered at that smile. He was very attractive.

“Sounds good.” He picked up the phone and said, “Drake Clarke. Need a table for two in my room. No, two chairs. Yes, two. Two orders of pasta carbonara. An extra-large order of garlic bread with cheese. Mozzarella. A bottle of red. And a big bowl of Cesar salad. Extra bacon. Bacon, not that bacon bit shit.” He winked at me, “Four bottles of water and two bottles of orange Gatorade.”

I fought the urge to smile. I fought the urge to relax. I fought the urge to cry out in elation as I hadn’t eaten a meal like that in 2 years.

But then a chill shot up my spine because maybe he was planning to sit and eat it in front of me and degrade me. Sadly, that game was not new to me.

Drake’s POV

She was reserved. She was guarded. She was doing her very best to behave like an absolute angel. She was so careful about every word she said and she’d looked embarrassed a few times, like she’d slipped up, but had never said anything that I could construe as a slip-up other than calling me Sir after I’d asked her not to.

She looked healthy but I could see in her eyes that she was far from healthy emotionally speaking. I wanted to tell her she was close to freedom, that we just had to play things out for 2 days here and that I’d get her out of here but I knew I couldn’t tell her. I had to remain aloof and at the same time give anyone who might be watching us on camera the impression that I was just like them.

In my brief meeting earlier with three men who had been kissing my a*s, knowing I was Tom Clarke’s nephew and their new benefactor, I did not let them think I was anything but Tom’s nephew in terms of my goals and objectives.

They said very little about her, stating they wanted to let me meet and assess her and then we’d have another conversation. They assured me that she had been carefully trained and was an exceptional slave with no punishable infractions in more than 18 months. She had not been touched sexually since her last clear STD test when she was put on ice to wait for me.

Stan had suggested to me that it’d be best not to ask questions about her origin and her past. I wouldn’t care about that s**t if I was just a typical client of theirs. I’d replace that out later when I helped her get back to some semblance of a normal life.

I remarked to the scumbags that I was looking forward to meeting my bride-to-be but that I needed to get home quickly as we were still sorting my uncle’s affairs out after his untimely death.

I texted Stan to tell him I’d arrived safely and said I’d call him when I got back home and give him further instructions.

Felicia’s POV

When the food came and they brought a table with two chairs I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Usually, once a patron sat, I would wait for him to snap his fingers and I’d move to his feet.

But I wasn’t generally waiting seated on a bed, I was typically already on the floor on my knees.

When he sat he looked at me, “You good to eat?”

“May I use the facilities first please, Master?”

He looked annoyed but waved his hand toward the bathroom. I stiffly moved to the bathroom and once behind closed doors I let out a big breath.

When I came back from washing my hands and taking a moment to compose myself he was sitting, looking broody. I hurried to his side and got on the floor. I didn’t want to presume I was to sit at the table with him even if there were two chairs.

It was better to be corrected for not taking kindness than to be punished for taking liberties.

I was on the floor on my knees beside his leg.

“Sit at the table.” His body was locked tight. He was angry.

I got up and sat at the table and my eyes landed on the mountain of food between us.

“Eat,” he said and poured me a glass of wine.

I lifted a fork and twirled a small amount of pasta on the fork, maybe just three or four strands of linguine. Drake heaped creamy bacon and parmesan-coated romaine lettuce with buttery-looking croutons onto my plate beside the pasta and held the platter of garlic bread in my direction and jerked his chin up.

I took a piece of thick white bread laden with golden crispy cheese. My stomach rumbled at the sight of it. “Thank you,” I answered softly, hoping he hadn’t heard my stomach. But it was so loud he would’ve had to have heard it.

He glanced up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes and then drank back half of the glass of wine. I didn’t want to upset him.

I put the forkful of pasta in my mouth. It was heavenly. I tried not to show it but wanted to m**n, it was so delicious. His anger appeared to soften a little as he watched me eat.

I subsisted on small portions of soup, fish and rice and vegetables without condiments, for the most part. I occasionally got chicken or steak, usually handed to me from a patron. Once in a while I’d get a chocolate covered strawberry or something decadent but never in copious amounts. I was religiously weighed and if I went up more than a pound my workout regimen would escalate from intense to boot camp rigid.

He ate, watching me as he did. Under his scrutiny I felt very self-conscious about eating but didn’t want to insult how generous he had been with the food he had ordered for me.

I took a bite of the garlic bread with cheese and suppressed the urge to m**n in ecstasy. I couldn’t put away all the food he’d ordered for me, I was used to eating small meals, but hated to waste it so I ate more than I could really manage, enjoying it but starting to feel discomfort.

We ate in silence, awkward silence. So awkward that he got up and put the television on, put it on a news channel, and he watched it while eating. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d watched news on television, or anything other than porn.

“You look full,” he said quietly, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin and stepping away from the table, “You don’t have to keep going.”

He reached inside his blazer pocket and produced a pewter cigarette case and matching lighter.

“I’m stepping out to the balcony for a smoke. Be right back.” He gave me a thin smile.

When he came back he looked at me quizzically. I was still sitting at the table, not sure what to do with myself. If he’d left me on the floor I’d know what was expected, it would be expected that I’d sit and await his direction. But up here at eye level with him I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“How do we get rid of this?” he asked me.

“You can dial 9 for housekeeping. Would you like me to do that…Drake?”

He shook his head.

“I can do it.” He called for housekeeping on the room phone and then sat back on the bed and kicked his shoes off.

A moment passed where I sat watching the television from the table and he thumbed away on his smartphone. There was a knock at the door.

He put his shoes back on and went to it and opened it. Cleo and Rafe were in the doorway, two housekeeping staff members behind them.

“Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Clarke, but because you requested housekeeping I thought it might be an opportune moment to speak with you.”

“Come in,” Drake said.

Cleo and Rafe both looked to me, sitting at the table with a half-eaten plate of pasta, creamy salad, and cheesy bread. Cleo’s eyebrows shot up but she appeared to rein in her shock. I averted my gaze and then fixed my eyes on my lap.

Once the door was closed Drake started, “What can I do for you?”

“We wanted to ask if you have any requests for Felicia this evening that we might help with.”

“Meaning?” Drake looked down at Rafe and he looked pissed off.

“Felicia’s attire. Do you have any requirements?”

“I don’t,” Drake replied and then added, “In fact, I’d like to leave tomorrow after my meeting with Chen so if you can have her things packed and arrange transportation to the airport that’d be appreciated.”

“Mr. Clarke,” Rafe said, looking like he was choosing his words carefully, “We highly recommend you stay at least until the day after tomorrow. We’d be happy for you to stay even longer, as long as you like, but we recommend staying at least that long. And we’re happy to arrange for transportation when you’re ready to go but I urge you to consider staying at least one more day.”

“And why is that?” Drake looked down at Rafe and Rafe looked intimidated. I suppressed the urge to enjoy what I was seeing, worried it might show on my face.

Rafe wasn’t the worst guy around here but who he was in front of patrons wasn’t who he was when he was pissed off. I hadn’t had a direct punishment from him since being broken but I had seen him give them out and he could wield a whip like nobody’s business.

“We replace that optimally, Sir, a Master should spend at least a few nights here at the resort with his acquisition. We want you to get acquainted with Felicia while you have an opportunity to notify us of any corrections you want made.

We can also help you plan to ensure your fiancé seamlessly transitions into her new life. We usually keep her for thirty days as a minimum and then you return to inspect and then pick her up.”

“What if she’s fine as is?”

“Many patrons are happy with their acquisition because of the painstaking preparation we’ve already taken. If the Master prefers to complete his own training we absolutely respect that. She is already yours. We have no rights to put rules forth regarding your property. She is already your property.

But in a scenario such as yours where she will be integrated into your life in a marital capacity…see she hasn’t been off the resort yet and we would normally run a few trials to integrate her into life outside Kruna and replace that it’s often helpful when masters utilize our services to—”

Drake cut him off, “Oh, I’ll be completing her training, alright. I’m looking forward to it.” I glanced at him and saw a glimmer in his eye that made my heart skip a beat.

He eyed me from head to toe and then he smirked. His eyes heated and I felt a swish of heat between my legs while at the same time fought back fear. Cleo and Rafe appeared to see it too. Cleo got a sickeningly satisfied smile on her face.

“Very well, Mr. Clarke. It’s your choice, of course, we know you are a very busy man. We just like to see that your acquisition is suitably prepared, so that you’ll be happy in every way.”

“I suspect I will be.” He glanced at me, “Are you worried she won’t behave?”

“Absolutely not! Felicia is exceptional. She—”

“Because I’m eager to complete her training. She will behave. No concerns there.” The gleam in his eyes made my b***d run cold.

“We have no concerns, Sir, otherwise she wouldn’t be with you right now. We chose very carefully and matched her specifically to your needs.

We still recommend you stay tomorrow night if possible so that if there are any inadequacies or you have major issues we have an opportunity to address them or if needed swap out your Felicia for another. If you opt for another, we again recommend at least 48 hours on site for you to assess…”

“Fine. I’ll stay the extra day. But that’s a maximum. I have things at home to see to. And I’ll let you know if any changes need to be made.” Drake cut him off again.

“Excellent. So, should you require any assistance this evening please do not hesitate to contact me personally at extension 252. If I’m to be away from my phone I will forward it to someone else who can handle anything that arises for you. Perhaps we can meet for or after breakfast. Mr. Chen would like me to accompany him while he gives you a tour of Kruna.”

“Fine.” Drake strolled to the door and opened it and then motioned toward the open doorway, making no bones about his desire for them to leave.

Two housekeeping staff members came in at that point and efficiently cleared away the contents of the table and then the table and chairs. I’d risen to my feet so they could take the chair and looked to the floor but said, “Master, may I speak?”

“Speak,” he answered.

“Where would you like me?”