Isabella’s POV
As I read his message over again, a flutter of nervous anticipation stirred in my stomach. What did he have planned for me? My mind raced with possibilities, casting me suddenly as the protagonist in one of those steamy romance novels I devoured. The one where the male lead is a hot billionaire who is obsessed with the female lead.
"Mr. L will come and sweep me away from this mundane life of boring work and work only," I thought, imagining a world where excitement awaited both in and out of bed and sex. "All I have to do is be a good sub," I said aloud, determination flickering in me despite a trace of uncertainty.
"Prove that I'm worth it. How hard could it be?" Yet doubt crept in—after all, he'd blocked Charlotte, who was undeniably hotter and more experienced than I.
I hesitated before typing my response, fingers trembling slightly.
Me: I hope I don't disappoint you.
After sending my message, more waves of insecurity washed over me. Here was this sweet, affluent man offering to be my master, pledging to fulfill my desires. Could I truly live up to his expectations? Would I be able to satisfy him as he intended?
Nervously, I bit my nails, a habit that betrayed my anxiety. The thought of embarking on this journey with him both thrilled and terrified me.
Mr. L's reply appeared almost instantly, soothing some of my swirling doubts.
Mr L: You are perfect. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just show up. That's all that will make me happy.
I swallowed the bubbly emotions welling up inside me. Happiness radiated through me.
Me: Anything you say, Master.
Mr L: Good girl.
***
On the second racing night following another exhilarating victory for Kevin, my excitement was palpable. Levi hadn't taken us out after the race, but he promised it would happen soon.
Support for our team was growing, even from the media and on Twitter, although today's race wasn't without drama—someone had attempted to sabotage Kevin's car. I couldn't fathom why anyone would stoop to such levels, let alone who the betrayer might be.
Despite this unsettling incident, the thrill of Kevin's triumph overshadowed any lingering doubts. Tomorrow held the promise of meeting Mr. L, a thought that kept me buzzing with anticipation.
The excitement coursed through me so intensely that I found myself unable to sleep. It persisted well into the early hours of the morning, my mind fixated on the upcoming visit to Mr. L's house.
I wanted to look flawless, radiating allure and confidence, paying attention to every detail.
I woke up early, determined to start the day right. I quickly booked a full-body spa session online, and by 11:30 AM, I emerged feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, my skin glowing and stress melted away. Hurrying to the salon, I had my long, slightly curled hair trimmed to perfection, followed by a nourishing treatment that enhanced its rich brown color, leaving it glossy and vibrant.
Feeling revitalized, I headed to the nail salon for a meticulous manicure and pedicure. The technician expertly shaped and polished my nails, helping me choose a striking cardamom red—a bold choice that matched my excitement and confidence.
Returning to the hotel in the evening, a mix of exhaustion and anticipation filled me. I indulged in a refreshing shower, the warm water easing any remaining tension.
As I sank into the soft hotel bed, a sense of satisfaction and exhaustion washed over me.
I set two alarms for myself, one at 7:30 and another just in case, then turned in early for the night. Surprisingly, I woke naturally at 5:00 a.m. that day, already feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
My apprehension seemed to grow with each passing day, and I couldn't shake the unease creeping up on me.
This would mark my first in-person BDSM encounter without meeting my master beforehand, and the fear of disappointing him weighed heavily on my mind. The possibility of being blocked or having the meeting canceled added to my worries. What if he turned out to be dangerous?
My previous "master," if you could call him that, had been a friend from real life, which had made things easier. But Mr. L... I knew nothing about him.
As I dressed, I deliberated over my choices for what felt like an eternity. Selecting the right outfit was crucial. I took my time applying makeup, aiming to enhance my features and project confidence and poise. The dress I finally settled on was a bold choice—a vibrant, short cardamom red gown that made a statement, like a ripe cherry dipped in fine wine. I had brought it along for a final party in Melbourne, but this occasion felt far more significant.
Every detail counted. I wanted to leave a lasting impression, demonstrating to Mr. L that I wasn't just willing, but eager to exceed his expectations.
Mr. L: Baby girl, are you ready? Your driver is waiting in the hotel parking lot.
Me: Yes, Master!
I typed, quickly slipping on my pump heels and touching up my lipstick.
Mr L: Good girl. Hurry! I'm waiting.
Me: I won't keep you waiting for long.
I slipped my phone into my clutch purse and glanced at myself once more in the mirror.
"You look absolutely perfect, Isabella," I reassured myself.
Taking a deep breath, I left the room and stepped into the elevator, feeling a rush of anticipation as I descended to the parking lot below. There, illuminated by the soft glow of overhead lights, was a Rolls-Royce with a personalized plate displaying my name. It was a gesture that still amazed me, a clear sign of the world I was entering.
The driver, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, greeted me with a respectful bow as he emerged from the driver's seat to open my door.
"Mrs. Isabella," he said warmly, extending a single rose to me.
I couldn't help but smile, touched by the thoughtful gesture.
"From Mr. L," he added, his tone carrying a hint of mystery that only added to my excitement.
Once I settled into the car, he closed the door and returned to the driver's seat.
"If you're ready, ma'am, please fasten your seatbelt," he said courteously.
"I'm ready," I replied, taking a deep breath as I clicked the seatbelt into place.
I'm so ready!