His Dark Obsession Chapter 3

I’m gripped by fear as I look up at Titus, a man who moments ago was simply a charming, full-of-himself CEO, but has suddenly transformed into a monster.

An explosion of fear surges through me, and I rocket to my feet and sprint for the elevator. I go to the gym too. I’m no slouch. But neither is Titus. I get barely a step past him when his hand snatches my arm. His fingers dig into my flesh, causing me to yelp in pain. He throws me roughly back onto the couch and waves a warning finger in my face.

“Now, now, now. That’s not how a good girl behaves, is it?”


“Good girls do what their master tells them to do, don’t they?”

Fear bursts inside me, consuming me like a shadow. I shake my head as my body starts to shiver uncontrollably. No. No, this can’t be happening. The leather creak from his belt is like the sound of a stalking predator. For a brief moment, I allow myself to hope that this is all some kind of elaborate joke, but when I see the expression on his face, I know that this is anything but.

Christ, he really is crazy.

My n!pples are so hard they actually hurt, and as Titus steps closer, looming over me, I feel a horrible sensation between my legs. Warmth. Heat. Excitement.

No! How the fvck can that be happening to me right now?

This man is about to fvcking rape me and my body is reacting like that? I scream.

“Help! Help me, someone!”

Titus roars with laughter. “Stop that, princess. You’ll only hurt your throat, and I need it to be nice and ready for my c0ck.”

His pants are fvcking bulging with his arousal. “Anything you put in my mouth you’re going to lose,” I warn him.

Titus just smiles and shushes me. “Oh, I don’t think so. Because you know your punishment would be much worse, princess. No, you’ll do what I tell you to do because I’m your master. And right now, your master wants you to take off those ridiculous clothes you’re wearing.”

Ridiculous!? I’m about to scream back at him when he seizes my hair and pulls my head back, causing my body to arch off the couch.

“Good little whores don’t wear clothes for their masters,” he growls. “They also obey the first time they are told something. So, unless you want to be punished, do as I say.”

Good little whores!?

The warmth between my legs spreads as my body continues its rebellion against me. I lash out with a knee, hoping to catch Titus between the legs, but he simply presses his body down against me and pins me beneath his weight.

“She wants to be punished,” he muses to himself. “Well, your master can oblige.”

His slap knocks my head to the side. My ears ring, and my eyes go wide as I gasp in disbelief.

He hit me. He really just hit me.

“This is disappointing. I thought you would know how to be a good little whore for your master.”

“P-please…” I beg, my voice weaker than I feel. I’m still stunned from what he just did, but my body is still betraying me. It’s like a war going on within me; my rational mind wants to rebel, fight, escape. But my irrational mind—the one that goes all the way back through evolution to when we were merely animals just trying to survive—wants more.

Even still, it’s next to impossible to do what he asks without feeling the burden of shame.

“Do it,” he commands.

Slowly, I slip out of my blazer. It falls to the floor, and I reach for my top, but my hands don’t want to listen to me. They’re cold, like I’ve been stuck in the snow for hours, and I fumble clumsily, drawing a scolding glance from Titus.


As he looms over me, I notice a thick, swollen lump in the crotch of his pants. I don’t even know why I’m thinking twice about what it is. I know what it is. And it terrifies me. Not just because I’ve never seen one of those things before, but because my body is again reacting.

I’m salivating. Christ, aren’t I more than an animal?

The warmth is engulfing me, mixing with the chill that flows through my veins. He’s so tall. So big. So broad. His eyes are mad with lust, an expression that beats down against the unwillingness within my body. As I slide out of my shirt, into nothing but my pants and bra, he tilts his head down and smiles.

“Big-time CEO,” he mutters. “Look at you now. Nothing but my little whore.”

This time, he snaps, pointing his fingers at my bra.


“No.” He tsks. “Outside, you refer to me as Titus. In here, you call me master.”

I’m gripped by his ferocity. This man means business. It’s almost as though he’s had this planned for a long time. My whole body is flooded with the blazing fire of humiliation and shame as I unclasp my bra and let it fall to the floor.

“Fvck, what a pair of t!ts.”

Titus unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, exposing the bulge in his briefs. I can see the outline of…it. And it scares me.

“What would your employees think?” he asks as he steps forward, almost straddling me. “If they saw their big, bad, boss lady here on the couch, half-na*ked, ready to worship a man’s c0ck?”


His smile. His eyes. He’s loving this. But why is he doing it? Surely a man in his position can’t do this regularly without being struck down by allegations and scandal. But I can’t possibly be the first, can I?

I want to hate him. Everything in me is telling me to.


“I-I don’t know…” I admit. He chuckles and slides one hand down his briefs.

“I bet that cute assistant of yours, Amy, would be jealous. Wouldn’t she?”

For some reason, this comment gets to me, and I snap. “Fvck you! Whatever it is you’re going to do, why don’t you just do it already!?”

God, this is so humiliating. It’s like he knows just the right buttons to push. Like he can read my mind. How am I going to go in to work tomorrow after this? I can feel my energy, my mojo, my whatever-it-is that lets me be the boss slipping away, twisting and distorting as he dominates me. Controls me. Tells me what to do.

But I instantly regret my outburst. He leans in, and I brace myself for another slap, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he grabs me roughly by the h!ps and turns me onto my stomach. Then he snatches my wrists and binds them together with his belt.

“Ow!” I cry out as the leather digs into my skin.

“Quiet,” Titus tells me. “Or I’ll make it even tighter.”

I squirm and try to look back at him, but he shoves my face into a pillow.

There’s no way I can fight him. He’s impossibly strong. I wonder how much he works out, or is he just blessed with muscles most men would kill for?

When he grabs the hem of my pants and tugs, I scream. Too bad no one can hear me.

“That’s right,” he chuckles. “Let me hear it.”

The button on my pants pops, and I feel the cold air on the skin of my butt as he pulls my pants down to my knees. I thrash wildly, but it’s pointless. With one strong hand on my lower back, he pins me down. I’m not going anywhere.

“Sh!t, t!ts and as*s,” he remarks. “Girl, you got it all.”

Then I feel the sting.

He spanks me. He literally spanks me – a grown woman. CEO of my own company. Self-made billionaire…

…being spanked.

“Nice and firm too. That’s gonna look real fvcking nice bouncing on my c0ck.”

The tension and anticipation is growing within me – threatening to take me over. My stomach is twisted into knots. I’m definitely sweating and have reached a level of humiliation I never knew existed.

I’m exposed. Under his complete control, and although I don’t know what he’s going to do next, I have some idea.

He spanks me again, and I cry out into the pillow. It’s hard to breathe with my face pressed into it. I’m starting to feel lightheaded, and when he pulls my panties aside, I swear I’m going to pass out.

“Waxed,” he remarks. I can practically hear him l!cking his l!ps. “Now why would a woman like you do that? I thought you had no man? No s*x life? Were you lying to me?”

Titus grants me a moment’s relief when he grabs me by the hair and pulls my head up. I gasp for breath and quickly shake my head. “No!”

“Then why do you do it?” he growls.

“I-I don’t know!” I stammer. “I just do!”

“You know what? I’m sick and tired of listening to your sh!t. I think it’s time I shut you up.”


But I can’t even get his name out of my l!ps before my face is back in the pillow.

He spanks me again like I’m his bratty stepdaughter, and then with one harsh pull, rips my panties off me.

Before I can even react to the rush of shame that accompanies the act, Titus pulls my head back and stuffs them into my mouth.

“There we go,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. “Much better. Now, Miss CEO, your real punishment begins.”

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