“6:15. Be Ready.”
I read the email from my administrative assistant, Evan. Evan might be my assistant during working hours, but he is also my dominant. Be Ready.
That could mean a variety of things. We had a busy day filled with meetings ahead of us, so I knew it unlikely I’d have a chance to ask for clarification. Nonetheless, that niggling mix of excitement, worry, anticipation, and a tinge of fear lay just beneath the surface of my every so professional façade throughout the day.
As Evan and I moved from one meeting to another, I’d glance at him, raise an eyebrow. He simply looked blankly at me as asked, “Yes?” Nothing broke his professionalism, which is one of the many reasons I adored working with him.
Finally, 6:00 came and the office was closing down. I shut my door, blocking out the sounds of people leaving the building, and stepped into my private bathroom. I pulled off my dress, panties, and bra, but left the stockings, shoes, and garter belt on while I freshened up as well as I could. Knowing his preferences, I then bent over my own desk and waited.
Fifteen minutes can seem like a whole lifetime when a million thoughts and scenarios are flying through your mind! By the time I heard the door open and Evan’s heavy footsteps, I was dripped wet with anticipation. He shut the door and locked it, making sure the cleaning people didn’t walk in on us.
He didn’t make me wait long, but pressed one hand gently on the back of my neck and plunged several fingers deep into my wet tunnel. I gasped, but my well trained body reacted by gushing wetness.
“Hands behind your back,” he stated huskily.
I obeyed. Only after he made me come three times did he yank his fingers from my body only to shove them into my mouth. Now using his left hand, he spanked my ass while I sucked his juicy fingers. To my humiliation, I came again to the sound of his laughter.
“You’re such a slut. You love being spanked, being used for my toy, don’t you?”
Obviously, I didn’t answer, my mouth filled with his fingers. He was right, though. I did love this. I loved giving him my power, especially after such intense work days as today had been. Tears were flowing down my face, but my cunt was wetter by far.
“Don’t move, slut. Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
He pulled away from me and I heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers. He wedged his hands beneath my breasts, pinching my nipples before thrusting his cock inside of me. I gasped with pleasure and bucked against him.
He finished in minutes, but not before I had come twice more. He pulled back, gave my ass one more swat then said, “Well done, Margery. Now, go rinse out your bra and panties and hang them up to dry in the bathroom. Put your dress back on but do not button it. I’m taking you to dinner then home.”
My eyes widened as I stood upright and I glanced down. My nipples were PERKY AS FUCK! They’d practically rip a hole in my dress. I’d worn a white shirtwaist today with a polo type top half. I was also absolutely sure that unless he allowed me to pull up my skirt, there would be an OBVIOUS wet spot marking the back of the dress. Seeing the stern look in his eyes, though, made me pale and nod. I needed this. I needed his commands, his power. I needed to be humbled.
Luckily, he just gave me a look and a grin when I pulled up the skirt to sit in the passenger seat of his Tesla. I also breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into the parking garage of our favorite restaurant. I clung to Evan’s arm as he walked in and waved to Tim, the owner and Evan’s best friend. Tim gave a pointed look at first my nipples then my red face and nodded to Evan who escorted me to the table in the back corner. He pulled the privacy curtain most of the way closed around the table. When Tim came to set our food down (no need to order), he reached down, pushed my gaping top aside and began to pinch my nipples while he and Evan chatted.
I sat there, totally humiliated, but dripping wet again, blushing. Luckily, the place was dimly lit, so when we left, no one really noticed us or my prominent nipples.
“Play with yourself,” Evan ordered as he drove us home. “I want you wet and sloppy when we get to the house.”
I did as he said, grateful that he hadn’t made me undress in the car.
“That’s it. Keep those fingers inside of your slutty little cunt. Still feel my cum inside there? Mixing with your own juice?”
“Yes,” I murmured.
“How’s that ass? Still tender from the spanking or has that faded?”
I knew better than to lie. “It’s faded, sir.”
He smiled knowingly. “Good. Because the minute we get home, you will take off that dress, bend over the kitchen table, and beg me to take you again.”
“Yes,” I answered, on the verge of coming again.
He glanced at me. “Don’t you dare,” he warned. “Don’t you dare come. Not until that ass is properly tanned and I’m buried inside of you. If you do, I’ll put clovers on your nipples and bend you over a chair so they swing and pull while I fuck you senseless.”
I squeaked, willing myself not to come. Then he reached over, flicked my clit, and I fell over the edge of reality. Once I could breathe again, I looked over at his pleased expression. I grinned back at him, knowing just how much we would both enjoy the evening.
This morning as I dressed for work in a pair of crisp linen trousers and a light weight black sweater top over matching lingerie, I took a deep, cleansing breath and realized that an evening of pure and total submission completely refreshes both the mind and body.
Anarie Brady 