Page 5 of Bubblegum Pop

Once they were inside me, it was okay, but the buildup could take ages depending on what they wanted.

Instead, he held out a gloved hand. I looked down at it in surprise before meeting his eyes again, and he just stood there patiently. “Michael Farringdon, at your service.”

“Hm, I see.” Then it was my turn to give him a once over. With all the fancy clothes he was wearing, it might make sense. Though there was absolutely zero chance someone like Michael Farringdon would ever step foot in a place like this.

“Well,” I curtsied as I took his hand, “good evening, Mr Farringdon. It is such a pleasure to meet you,” I said in my poshest English accent.

The Farringdon Group was one of the largest corporations in the world. I didn’t know anything about the CEO specifically, just that Mr Farringdon was so rich he made billionaires look poor. Almost every product I bought was made by one of their companies. And, if the alpha wanted to play the billionaire, then I was happy to go along with it, especially if it meant a bigger payout at the end.

“I believe I said no lies.” He released me, his hand disappearing into his coat pocket, withdrawing a card.

I took it daintily, as if I was a proper lady. “Of course not.” I bowed my head. “I would never do such a thing.”

Usually, the guys who wanted to role-play were looking for a secretary or a naughty nurse. This was way more fun.

I took a quick glance at the card. It looked real enough, though I was pretty sure anyone could get a stack of these made for twenty quid down at the print shop

“So, who’d you like me to be?” I asked, dropping the accent. “I could be a popstar? Or the prime minister’s wife? Or do you want to go with a classic ‘secretary and boss’ scenario?”

“Neither, thank you. I've come to you for another reason. This is business.”

“Oh? Business?” My lips curved into a sultry smile. “Is that what you’d like to call it?”

He replied with a low chuckle. “I have an offer for you, my dear,” he said. “I say offer, but I have already agreed to the terms with the dashing young Stevie, who has so kindly agreed to sell you to me.”

“Excuse me?” I smirked, dipping my chin, my brows raised. “Sell me?” As if Stevie had any control over me outside of who got to fuck me and where. And, even then, I had a choice.

“Indeed.” He nodded. “You have a particular skill with your perfume that I’m very interested in.”

Maybe I’d been too loose with it after all.

“And I’ve offered Stevie what I would consider a fair amount for your sale.”

I bit my lip, holding back another giggle. I guessed it was all part of the role-play, but Stevie was such a piece of shit, he might actually do it.

“Stevie doesn’t own me,” I said with a click of my tongue.

At least at Stevie’s, I knew what I was getting into. I mean, yeah, a lot of the girls were drugged up, and I could see myself going that way in the end, but I had a place to sleep and pay.

“My thought exactly,” he said, shifting his cane to his right hand before leaning on it. He didn’t seem like he needed it; I didn’t catch a limp, but who knew what rich people were really like? With his leather gloves and bowler hat, I should expect anything. Like an offer to buy me.

“I own some incredibly exclusive establishments in and around London, and I would very much like for you to come and work for me. It would mostly consist of the same duties you are performing here, only your wages would be much higher and your accommodation would be far more welcoming than… hmm… this.” His smile grew strained as his eyes swept the room, obviously judging. “You would be stripping, of course, though I would expect you to be in a far healthier condition than you are now.”

So it was ‘billionaire rescues poor omega’, though I guess he wanted to keep me as a whore in his fantasy, so I’d still do whatever he wanted.

“Of course, Sir Farringdon. There’s no way I would ever pass up such an opportunity.”

My hand crept from my stomach down to my thigh, finding the hem of my dress and sliding it up. Maybe I could show him my pussy and get this over with.

He frowned at me. I knew what he saw. It was the same thing I saw every time I looked in the mirror.

“We would also be paying you twenty-five percent of any profits you make during your shows, far more than you’ve been making at this place.”

He was taking this role-play way more seriously than I’d ever seen, but maybe that was just because he was rich. Or, at least, pretending to be.

“I mean thousands, my dear, not just three hundred for one night.” Like I’d ever earned that. “We’ll provide accommodation, and we have kitchens to meet any of your demands. Other matters can be discussed at a later date. I don’t expect rent or any form of payment, simply that you service our clients when asked and commit to at least ten years working for me.”

I pouted, pressing a finger to my lips. “Ten years is such a long time! You want to own me for that long?” I laughed coyly, though he didn't take the bait.