Birth of an Empire

-The further adventures of a pathetic young man, who's darker
side takes over. Once unleashed this predatory part of him starts
taking what it wants, and nothing can stand in its way. Raping
and dominating his bitchy boss at work was not enough. He stops
by her house for a nice diner, but decides to move in for good.
This is the true first step on his road to building an empire.
(Mdom/F, nc, rp, oral, ws)-
Miles Martin (martin369@gmail.com)

Chapter 2

      I of course take the rest of the day off of work. (That is
something one does after raping their boss.) I get in my car and
just start driving. Going nowhere in particular, just driving and
basking in my new found freedom. Everywhere I look I see
opportunity. Every woman I pass is a target, my prey. I soak up
the predatory feeling of power that flows through me. There is
nothing that can stop me any longer. The part of me that always
held back is gone, I could not be happier.
      I drive around for hours, lost in my own little world.
Before I know it, 5 oclock rolls around. It is time to head
over to my new slaves house and check up on her, I think to
myself, as I head off in her direction.
      There is a funny story, ok well a pathetic story, behind
how I know where my boss lives. When I first started working at
the hell hole, it was run by my current boss  husband. He was the
owner and ran the place; she stayed at home and raised her
daughter (I assume). She did not have anything to do with the
place; it was fully run by her husband. But over time, the
husband and wife started to fight more and more. They were both
selfish and self-centered, so clashes were destined. The
relationship was deteriorating before everyones eyes. And of
course he took his fucking anger out on me. I became his whipping
boy. No matter what I was doing, he would start yelling and
screaming at me that I was not doing it right. Cutting things too
big, and then too small. I was driving too fast, and then driving
too slow. The business started to slow, no one would order from
us, and he would cut corners. He was a terrible manager, having
no idea how to run the place. The customers soon caught on to
this, and we lost all our regulars. The place got so bad, that my
current boss had to start working. This was her husband s down
fall. She got ideas in her head, ideas that she could run the
place better. Soon enough she nagged him into letting her take
over. He was quickly fired, and then she divorced him. This is
not yet the funny part though. The funny part is that they both
thought they were huge big shots. When they had become business
owners they had also decided to be property owners. And so they
had bought three different houses. At first this was no problem.
But after the pizza place started to tank, they had to sell their
houses. But no one would buy. Add this with their already greedy
douchebaggery, and they were terrible land lords as well. No one
would rent from them either, only dead beats that never paid
rent. Of course this just meant that they were losing even more
money. When they divorced she forced the houses off on him, and
decided to rent a place. This is where I came in. Guess who had
to move her, me of fucking course. I was her one man moving team.
And that is how I know where the bitch lives.
      I pull up in front of her house. The lights are on, and her
car is in the driveway, so I know she is home. I walk up to the
door, since I now own her, and vicariously anything she owns, I
try turning the knob. It is locked. My ever present smile widens.
Looks like she does not want me to just walk in on her then. I
ponder to myself. I walk around the house, checking out all the
windows. Jumping the fence into the backyard, I found a back
door. Bingo. Not even checking if it is locked, I run full force
into it with my shoulder. Slamming it open. My former boss jumps
out of her skin and screams. I just stand there grinning in the
wide open door way.
      I look around and find myself in her kitchen. It looks like
I broke in on her preparing dinner. Her screaming dies down, once
she realizes it was me. I walk up to her, staring right into her
eyes and say I think you are going to need to get me a key! Or
just never fucking lock me out of my house again!
      She shutters and nods. Clearly unnerved by my staring, she
turns back around and checks on the oven. I too peer into the
oven, checking to see what she had made. Lasagna. Great more
Italian food. I can see the box in the trash can, so it is not
even home made. But this does not faze me.
       I walk right up behind her, wrapping my arms around her.
Into her ear I whisper I have such fine memories of moving you
in here. I am so glad you made me do it. In fact, I think I am
going to move in myself.
      She struggles in my grasp, pushing me away. I let her break
away. She turns to me with rage blaring in her eyes, but she
keeps quite.
      This causes no end of amusement in me. Leaning back against
the counter, I take the moment to finally take in what she is
wearing. She had changed into a sexy little black dress. Along
with a pair of nylon stockings, ending with high heels. She had
topped this off with makeup, earrings, and doing her hair up in a
bun. She had dressed up in anticipation of a date. She had
dressed up in anticipation for me. This realization causes a huge
surge of power and exhilaration, if not a bit of puzzlement. It
looks like she might not hate me, or what I was doing to her, at
least as much as she tried to show.
      The oven timer reads that we still had a good 20 minutes.
We both remain silent, her back to me. I can tell she feels my
eyes are on her, evaluating her. Her neck and back take on a
blush. I let the silence drag on, and on. It has to be
uncomfortable for her, but it has no affect on me. Finally the
silence must have become too much for her, she grabs a bottle of
wine and Turns to me. With defiance written across her face, she
asks, Shall we have a drink while we wait? She pours two
glasses without waiting for a response.
       I can tell she still wants to be in control. If I was
going to do this to her, she wanted it to be on her own terms.
This did not matter to me in the least. I was no longer going to
let her control me, but I could care less if she was delusional
enough to think she still could. I cock my head a little as I
continue to stare at her. After enough time passes I reply I do
not drink.
      She frowns, suddenly uncertain. She reaches down for her
own glass.
      But before she can lift it to her lips, I grab her arm. In
an even voice I ask, Did I give you permission to drink?
      Fear once more masks her face. She is now taking in all my
movements, trying to prepare for what I might do to her.
      I cock one of my eyebrows, questioningly.
      With a quiver in her voice she asks, May I please have a
drink?
      I let go of her arm. Still smiling at her, I nod and spread
my arms out in the sign of be-my- guest.
      She gulps down her wine quickly. Then grabs my glass and
downs that as well. She warily watches me, as I watch her right
back. Marshaling her courage, and to break the awkward silence
she says My daughter is staying with her father tonight, if you
were wondering.
      I can tell she meant this as a way to keep me away from her
daughter. I respond coldly, Speaking of which I think I have
some things to discuss with your ex.

      She shutters at the meaning behind what I said, but tries
to play it down. As selfish and self-centered as she is, she
probably does not really care what I do with her ex husband, as
long as I leave her alone. But that is not going to happen
anytime soon, so she has nothing to worry about.
      She glances at the timer again, still 10 minutes.
      I watch as she starts grabbing plates and utensils out of
cabinets and drawers. I follow her out of the kitchen and into
the dining room. She sets up two places across from each other,
at a square table. I do not make a move to help her. When she is
done, I step behind one of the chairs and pull it out for her,
gesturing for her to sit down. This throws her off guard, and she
looks at me questioningly. I just smile and gesture again.
      Once she is seated, I walk back to the kitchen grab our
glasses, refilling hers with wine and my own with water. I then
look in her refrigerator, find a bag of lettuce and some
vegetables. She probably wonders what I am doing, as I quickly
slice up and vegetables and throw them in with the lettuce to
make a salad, toping it all off with a little balsamic vinegar
and olive oil. Returning to the dining room with salad bowel and
glasses in hand, a look of utter puzzlement and confusion comes
across her face. Before she can say anything the oven timer goes
off.
      She starts to get up, looking at me, but I shake my head,
grab our plates, and go back into the kitchen. I carefully take
the lasagna out of the oven, and cut it in half. Those frozen
meal things are never really that big. I once more return to the
dining room. I place the plate in front of her first, and then
place my own down. Grabbing the salad bowel, I serve her and take
some for myself.
      The whole time she watches me with a smile spreading across
her face. I can tell she thinks she might be taking control once
more.
      I plop down in my own chair and dig in. I focus in on my
food, enjoying the meal. For the first time allowing myself to
really enjoy and savor a meal. I take my time, slowly chewing
each bite. This might not be the greatest thing I had ever eaten,
but it was the first time since I was a child that I allowed
myself to enjoy a meal. By the time I am halfway done with the
meal; I finally look up from the plate and make eye contact with
her. She is taking a sip of her wine, watching me. Her plate is
hardly touched. I decide it is the right time.
      Blow me! I tell her in a commanding voice.
      This causes her to choke on the wine she had just been
drinking. She coughs, as I stare at her. Finally when her
coughing fit is over, she frowns at me.
      Already knowing what she will say, I stand up. Folding the
napkin from my lap and placing it next to my plate. I
nonchalantly walk over to her side of the table. Her eyes follow
me, confused. When she is within arm s reach I stop. Grabbing her
by the hair I drag her out of her chair. I slowly walk back to my
own seat, dragging her kicking and screaming behind me. As I sit
down I toss her under the table. In a hard voice a yell Now
fucking blow me!
      It does not take long before I feel her hands working on my
zipper, and then fishing my cock out of my boxers. As soon as I
feel her lips make contact with my cock, I resume eating.
Deciding to be a good guest and make conversation. I put down my
fork, look down into my lap, and tell her You know for a woman
who owns an Italian restaurant you are not really that great of a
cook.
      She glares up at me, mouth still surrounding my cock. I
feel a brief nip of her teeth. She is obviously showing her
indignation at my words.
      I go on. Do not worry, your cock sucking skills more than
make up for your poor cooking.
      With that I feel her tongue swirl around the head of my
cock quickly. I see a slight smile come across her lips, although
it is hard to tell with them stretched around my cock.
      I continue to smile down on her and say, I was just
thinking that from now on I guess I will be doing the cooking
around here. Not that I am some great chief or anything. With
that I pat her head and get back to finishing the lasagna.
      As I scoop up the last bite of lasagna and put it into my
mouth, I give into the pleasure. I grab the back of her head, and
force my cock down her throat. I erupt my sperm right into my
ex-boss throat.
      She struggles and chokes, but seems to swallow all of the
cum. When I feel the last drop leak out, I loosen my grip on her
head. I then relax my bladder. My piss flows in her mouth, my
hold on her head forcing her to swallow. My limp cock plops out
of her mouth. As she coughs she gags, glaring up at me.
      I smile down at her once more, patting her head I say Good
girl. I wipe my mouth, and put the napkin down on the empty
plate. Pushing the plates to the side of the table I look back
down and tell her Well it looks like it is time for dessert. I
stand up, pushing my chair back.
      She tries to compose herself, frowning, and angrily says,
I did not make anything for dessert.
      Reaching down to help her up, I say Oh that is not what I
was talking about.
      Once she is standing, I grab her sides and lift her up on
to the table. She squeals in surprise. Kicking and fighting me. I
push her back, until she is lying on the table. Lifting her
skirt, I grab hold of her panties. They were a very sexy red lace
pair. I pull them down and off, to her complaints. Her nice hairy
cunt is smiling up at me. I smile right back. She props herself
on her elbows to look at me, as I kneel in front of her. Grabbing
her hips I drag her until her ass is just resting on the edge.
Throwing her legs over my shoulders I move in for the kill.
      Her hands latch on to my head, digging into my hair, as I
start to lick around her pussy lips.  Her legs squeeze together
when I find her love button. Moving down, I start to nibble on
her lips. This drives her crazy, and she starts to moan. I
continue with this for a while, finally working my tongue between
her lips, into her hole. Her juices are overflowing, lathering my
face. By now her moans and screams have become louder. Lifting my
head up a bit, to look at her face, I shove three fingers into
her cunt to make up the difference for my tongue. I watch as a
look of pure ecstasy is running ramped across her face. I lean
forward and take her clit between my teeth, biting down just hard
enough not to break the skin. This throws her into the orgasm
that had been building up. A long and loud wail of pleasure
charges out of her mouth. And she collapses onto the table,
passing out.
      As she is out I take the time to bring all the dirty dishes
to the sink. I just leave them there, I am not about to start
washing fucking dishes again. Looking through her refrigerator I
find a bottle of cranberry juice, I pour myself a glass and walk
into the living room. Making myself at home, I sit down on her
couch and turn on the TV.
      About 10 minutes later, I hear her waking up; letting out
content groans and moans, as she stretches. She must have heard
the TV, for the next thing I know, she is sitting down on the
other side of the couch, trying to keep a little distance between
us. There is nothing really on, but we both sit there and watch
for the next couple of hours, saying nothing. I can tell, she is
thinking very deeply about what had happened today.
      Soon enough ten oclock rolls around. I stand up and start
walking towards her bed room. I look at her sharply. Without
question she follows me in. I strip out of my clothes and climb
on to the bed, looking at her expectantly. She of course takes
the hint and strips down as well. She watches me admire her
nakedness. Sliding in next to me, she rolls over to face away
from me. Which gives me a great view of her ass. I snake my hand
over her side, and cup her pussy. Into her ear I whisper, I want
you to climb on top of me.    I feel a sudden dampening on my
hand before a let go, rolling over onto my back. Without a word,
she climbs on top of my, plunging herself down on my cock. I lay
back and let her do all the work. I watch as her tits bounce
around as she rides me. Her face has a look of overwhelming lust
but also a powerful hatred. I think she is just as mad at herself
for enjoying what I was doing to her, as she was with me. She
rides me for almost an hour, cuming multiple times. I hold back,
enjoying the ride. I feel her starting to tire, both our bodies
covered in sweat. I decide to let go, and so the floodgates are
dropped. I flood her womb with my fertile sperm. This sparks a
final orgasm for her, and she collapses down on top of me. I roll
her over to her side. She is already asleep, as I cuddle into
Bher, resting her head on my chest. I fall asleep with her in my
arms, my cock still limp in her cunt. 
