by Emma Roberts
Wordlessly, she extended one pale arm. The cuff slid on easily, and I tightened it as far as I could, checking her circulation before doing the other. She'd begun to whimper by the time I'd secured both her legs, exposing her glistening sex to my hungry gaze.
Alma had obligingly set the suitcase full of supplies by the door of the playroom before seeing herself out of the house. I crossed to it and selected a medium-sized vibrator. I switched it on, grinning when she stared at it in horrified fascination. I traced it up her thigh, enjoying the way she jerked in surprise. Her hips bowed off the bed as I traced her clit with the blunt head of the wand.
"We don't know each other, you say? I think you're wrong. I know you, Whitney. I know you better than you know yourself."
"Is that so, Daddy?"
I smirked. She just couldn't seem to help but be petulant, could she? I increased the speed of the vibrator and watched in satisfaction as she bucked. I guided the wand away from her sex when her breathing picked up. She let out a frustrated little huff.
I'd always found edging to be a particularly good way to keep my partners in line.
"Your parents handed you off to a nanny to be raised. You don't remember the last time one of them has given you a hug or praised you for a personal accomplishment. Maybe they never did."
Whitney's breath caught, and from the look in her eyes, I could tell I was right on the money. I continued on, ruthlessly sliding the wand over her sex again, and this time, I slipped a finger into her tight little cunt as well, stroking the inner wall with long, unhurried strokes.
"You cannot remember a time when anyone denied you anything. Except maybe their love. You pushed the boundaries, hoping someone would stop you. But no one ever cared enough to do it, did they?"
Tears welled in her eyes. "Stop."
I waited for the safeword, but it didn't come. I pressed the head of the wand closer and increased the tempo of my strokes. "Am I right, baby girl? Answer me."
Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she whipped her head back and forth. "No. Stop talking."
"Answer me," I demanded, thrusting my fingers hard against her g-spot. Her entire body shuddered as she approached her climax. Her nipples were taut and flushed a rosy pink. Goosebumps covered every inch of her skin.
"No," she sobbed. "No one ever cared. No one ever stopped me."
"I care, baby girl. And I'm going to make sure you grow up so everyone else sees what I do."
"What's that?" she panted, bucking up into my touch. Her walls fluttered against my fingers, a sign of her impending orgasm.
"Someone worthy," I whispered. "Now cum, Whitney."
A choked cry escaped her lips, and she came hard against my fingers. I wished I'd been buried inside her, feeling every contraction of her tight little pussy against my cock. But she'd needed this lesson, and I’d needed to give it more than I’d needed to get my rocks off.
Her body sagged against the duvet, and she let out a contented sigh as I joined her on the bed. She leaned into me, all soft skin and lush curves.
"Do I get to know about you, Daddy? Now that you've accurately described how fucked up I am?" she asked.
Finally, the mocking tone was gone from her voice. It was just a question. It probably deserved a better answer than I was willing to give. But since I hadn't really sorted out my shit with a therapist yet, I could only give her the bare bones. A playroom was not a shrink's office, and I was not going to spill my emotional damage onto someone who didn't deserve it.
"April died in a car accident," I murmured into her hair. "Coming back from the twenty-week ultrasound that I missed because of work. So I think it's safe to say that you are not the only fucked-up person in this bed, Whitney."
Her body tensed beside mine, but I didn't glance over. I didn't want to see her pity. This place was my only respite from the pain of losing April. I wasn't going to drag this into whatever the fuck I had with Whitney.
I slung an arm around her waist and drew her into my side, letting the warm, sweet scent of her fill my head, willing it to take the bite out of the last, grisly image I’d had of my wife. It was easier to focus on the now, the woman that was soft and warm and willing in my bed.
I undid the restraints that held her in place and held her close. She needed the aftercare, and frankly, so did I. Over the course of a minute, her heart rate slowed from a gallop to a steady thump against my hand. Her soft breast was a comfort against my palm, and perhaps when the scene was less emotionally charged, I'd see if she could come from stimulating her nipples alone. But now was not the time.
"Is that all you'll tell me?" she whispered. "Will I ever get to know more about her?"
"If you make it past February fourteenth, I'll give you my life's story, Whitney. For now, let this be what it is."
"And what is that?" she asked.
I closed my eyes and remained silent.
I wished I knew that myself.
7
Jace
Come back to me, lover. I miss you.
I scowled at my computer screen and deleted the rest of the message without reading it. I’d told Vee to send messages to my personal email or my phone, but she never listened. It was one of the myriad reasons that I’d been forced to drop her as a sub. When one flouted the rules constantly to be punished, it was no longer a power play; it was just disrespect.
And I’d never really intended to keep her long-term, anyway. She could bottom hard, but she wasn’t the sort of person I’d gel with for a lifetime. Not the way April had been.
Hell, not even the way that Whitney was. She'd barely even put her toe into the water yet, but I could already tell that she was made for this lifestyle. She had to be coaxed into it, but she followed orders. She had spirit, and her bratty side could excite the dom in me more than anyone had in awhile.
The message alert dinged again, and another message from Vee popped up.
Why do you keep ignoring me, lover?
I could practically hear her petulant tone through the computer screen. I should probably deal with this before Whitney returned from her break. Her accounts were linked with mine for the time being, and part of her job as my PA was to field my inbox. No doubt seeing another woman messaging me would give her pause, even though I’d already mentioned Vee’s persistence in passing. This was going to lead to a fight I didn't want to have. Things had been over with Vee for a while now, and it was only her stubborn streak that was keeping her from accepting it.
I told you it was over. If you don't stop pestering me, I will tell all of the other doms in the New York Scene, and you'll be blacklisted. I happen to know you're still hanging around The Vault, looking for a top.
The reply to that was immediate and nasty.
Fine. Have it your way. But you're never going to find someone as perfect for you as I was.
I deleted the email again. Just in time, too, because just then, Whitney returned to her desk. For a minute I just watched her through the glass beside my door. She was a vision in her green peplum dress.
I knew just how I wanted to get the taste of Vee out of my mouth. And maybe if she was made aware that I had moved on, she would too. So after a moment of consideration, I sent two emails. One to Whitney, instructing her to clear my schedule and to come into the office at her earliest convenience. And another to Vee.
For your information, I have already found a new submissive. And I'm enjoying her in my office this afternoon. Good day, Vee, and good luck.
With a satisfied smile, I signed off and waited for Whitney’s light knock on my door. It came about two minutes later, accompanied by her light, meek inquiry: "May I come in, sir?"
I didn't like the moniker. Too common and too ubiquitous to command much respect anymore. But it was a formal address, and in public, we had to be careful.
"Come in."
She cracked the door and poked her head inside. "What did you need me for?"
My smile was wolfish, I was sure. "Close the door, turn off the lights
, and draw the shades over that window, Whitney. I'd like to have a talk with you about your performance thus far."
She swallowed nervously but did as she was asked, shutting the door behind her. The opaque blue shade slid down over the window, and the lights flickered off as her fingers found the switch. Then we were alone in my dim office.
“Sit down.”
Again, she did as she was told. “What is this about, sir?” she asked, biting her lip nervously. “Have I done something wrong? Did I take too long on my break? Because you know, this is technically the first real job I’ve had.”
“Silence,” I cut off her words. “You’re babbling. Don't ask questions. Just do exactly as I tell you.”
Her entire body trembled, but she fell silent with a nod.
“To answer your question, no, you have not done anything wrong.”
“Then why-”
I gave her a sharp look. “Didn't I just tell you not to ask questions? I won't warn you again, Whitney.”
She closed her mouth with an audible snap. I stood, rounding the desk slowly. Her eyes tracked me nervously until I came to a stop behind her. I slid my hands down the soft green fabric covering her shoulders and then let my fingers trail lightly over her nipples. They were straining hard against the fabric there.
Whitney gave a shuddering little gasp, opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again.
"Did you want to say something, baby girl?" I asked in an undertone. I had to keep this quiet. Whitney and I were generally the only ones in this particular part of the building, but even so, I didn't want to draw attention to what we were about to do.
She nodded once.
"You have permission to speak -- for now."
Whitney's breath came out in a rush. "What are you doing, sir? We're in public."
"No. We're in my office, which has been closed off. My meetings for the day have been canceled, and I have arranged for a little training session with my new PA."
Whitney's eyes darkened with lust for a moment.
"What do you want me to do, sir?"
I smiled and stepped out from behind her. "Open your legs, baby girl. And remove your panties."
Whitney hesitated for a second before she parted her legs obligingly and hiked up the skirt. I got a good long glimpse at blue lace before she slid the article down her long, silky legs and removed it completely. She held it aloft for me to see.
"What do you want me to do with these?"
I rounded my desk and took my seat again. "Those will be going in my desk drawer, and you will be coming to sit on my lap."
Her thighs rubbed together hard, and her nipples became taut peaks, just begging for my attention.
She stood carefully, smoothing down her skirt almost of habit. Then she, too, rounded my desk. I unfastened my slacks with casual grace, not looking up at her to gauge her reaction. As soon as I'd shimmied the slacks part of the way down, my erection sprang free. Whitney's intake of breath was sexy as hell.
When she was within arm’s reach, I hooked one around her waist and drew her into me. With my free hand, I hoisted the dress up around her hips and brought her down to rub against my aching arousal. She squirmed becomingly and let out a soft sound.
"Today, you'll become acquainted with my do-not-reply list. There are a number of people who like to waste my time. I'll read the list off, and I want you to mark them in my inbox to be deleted and to have all future messages from them blocked. You will make a note of my reasons for doing so for future reference. Do you understand me?"
She nodded.
I pulled her backward and eased the very tip of my throbbing cock into her entrance. She moaned, and her eyes fluttered closed. I slapped her thigh lightly.
"Keep your eyes on your work, baby girl."
Her entire body shuddered as I eased another inch of my length into her, drawing her closer to my lap. She reached out to my keyboard with shaking fingers and began to type.
"F-first name, sir?"
"Andrew Barr. He's a former associate of mine, and he keeps spamming my inbox because he knows it annoys me."
"Andrew Barr," she hummed. "Note: A huge, petty dick."
My lips curled into an amused grin, and I sheathed myself inside her completely in one smooth thrust. She moaned again, and her fingers paused. "Jace..."
"My title, Whitney. Don't forget it."
"Daddy," she panted. "I can't concentrate when you're--ah!"
I lifted her hips by a few inches and brought her back down onto me with one smooth, undulating moment. Her walls clamped down on me tightly, and it was all I could do not to begin thrusting into her with abandon. I'd never actually done something like this in my office. There was just something about Whitney that broke my carefully crafted boundaries. I gave another hard, punishing thrust, just thinking about her. It drew a mewling sound from her throat.
"Joel Marsh," I continued, sliding my fingers through the wetness between her folds until I found her oversensitized clit. I ran a finger over it in an idle circle. "Revealed to have substandard business practices. I am ceasing our interaction when the term of our contract expires."
Whitney's fingers were slower on the keyboard, and it took another smack to her thigh before she resumed her pace. "Erm...oh...God...ah, Joel Marsh. Note: Shoddy workmanship."
I leaned her slightly forward so that her elbows rested on the desk and got my feet beneath me so that I could take her from behind. I liked her best this way. Prostrate with her beautiful ass and the lovely curve of her spine bare and vulnerable beneath me. I pushed into her harder, faster, and brought my hand down on the growing red mark on her thigh whenever she paused.
Her walls fluttered around my cock, alerting me to her impending orgasm. Though it felt like torture to do so, I stilled inside of her, leaning across her back.
"No," she whined. "Don't stop."
"Finish your work," I growled into her ear. "I gave you instructions, baby girl. Follow them. The next name is Eva Carter. She's a reporter. I will not be giving her a quote."
"Eva C-carter," she panted, trying to push back to get the friction she needed. I seized her waist in a vice grip, nixing that idea at once. She wasn't coming until I said so.
"Pushy bitch."
After another two names, I began to thrust into her again, shallowly at first, and then with more force. The last name on my list was sure to raise eyebrows. I'd just have to keep her distracted.
"Vee M."
"...spelled how?"
"V-e-e and the initial M."
"Who is th-" But she broke off midway through when I let my fingers dance over her clit and thrust hard against her g-spot. Her hands actually fell away from the keyboard as I hammered into her so hard; it was all she could do to hold onto the desk. Her knees gave way, and I tightened my grip on her waist so that she remained upright.
"Enter the name."
She did so. "W-what's the note?"
"Pain in my ass," I growled. She let out a breathy chuckle and typed the description.
When she was through, I pulled out of her. She let out a half-sob at the loss. I turned her quickly and hoisted her bare ass onto the only free spot on my desk, spreading her wider for me. Then I plunged myself back into her again, moaning at the feeling of her tight, wet heat enveloping me.
Her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs formed a vice around my waist, drawing her body as close to mine as it could possibly go. When her orgasm ripped through her a minute later, she clamped down on me hard. I came with a groan inside of her.
We stayed like that for a second, perched like that on my desk. Then she sagged against me and buried her face into my chest, but not before I caught a pleased smile.
"When can I get another lesson, Daddy?" she purred, wiggling her hips against mine. We were still joined in the most intimate way possible. The teasing drew an unwilling chuckle from me.
"There won't be many more here, I'm afraid. Consider it a reward for a job well-done. You're exceeding my
expectations, baby girl. Keep up the good work."
Her baby blues twinkled, and she nearly glowed with pride. I'd be willing to bet a sizable chunk of what I owned that it was probably the most complimentary thing she'd heard in her life.
It made me feel a little cold to step away from her, but I did it. Tucking myself back into the dress pants, I took a step back from her. She adjusted the skirt so that it hung at its usual length, though she didn't jump down from her perch immediately.
"Do I get those panties back?" she asked with a grin.
She was still holding them in one hand. I took them from her and opened my desk drawer, dropping the nearly sheer fabric in with my office supplies.
"No. Now get back to work, Whitney. And do not open any of the emails we discussed, okay? Report them as spam and have IT go in and employ further measures if they find a way around that."
She nodded. "Alright, sir."
Whitney turned on her heel and sashayed out of the office.
I watched her go with an amused smile. Two birds with one stone. I'd kept my sub in line and reasonably happy, and I had warded off my annoying ex-playmate -- all at the same time. It was shaping up to be a good day after all.
8
Whitney
Office work was so dull that I wanted to shove a pair of chopsticks into my eyes to alleviate the boredom.
I’d been psyching herself up for afternoons full of the eye-candy that was my current lover. Boyfriend? I still wasn’t sure what we were to each other yet. Fuck buddies wasn’t right either.
In any case, I’d been hoping this job would be rife with opportunities to see him. He looked incredible in the tailored suits he wore, and I’d had fantasies of being locked inside of his office all day, spread-eagle or bent over on his desk while he engaged in some much-needed stress relief, like he had that first week. Instead, I’d been staring at a computer screen and arranging an endless parade of meetings for Jace to attend. He was booked into oblivion, and I was almost tempted to schedule an hour block later in the week labeled "fun," simply to see what would happen.
