by B. B. Hamel
I join him, sitting in the chair next to his. He sips his drink and I sip mine, and for a second I stare at him, not sure what to think. I wonder if I should ask about his call, but decide to let him drive this conversation.
“What do you think?” he asks, nodding at the glass in my hand.
“I’m not really a whiskey girl, but it’s good,” I admit.
“What kind of girl are you, then?” He raises an eyebrow, a smile on his lips.
I shrug. “Beer, mostly.”
“I thought about installing a keg in here, but it felt… unsophisticated.”
I laugh a little. “I think it’d be nice to have it just in the corner in a tub with some ice.”
“I bet you’d like that. You could go drink right from the tap.”
“Only if you let me, sir.”
He laughs softly and stands suddenly. “Come here.”
I follow him over to the window. He leans up against it, drink in his hand. He points out down at the city. “See that building?”
I try to follow his finger, but can’t. “Sorry, I’m not sure which one.”
He gets closer, standing almost right behind me. He takes my hand and uses it to point. “Brick front, sign on the top. Bright green. See it?”
“I see it,” I say, spotting the one.
“I bought that building six years ago,” he says. “Opened a bar there.”
“Really?”
“Really. Twenty-five taps. They tell me it’s doing well.”
“Do you ever go?”
He hesitates, clears his throat. “No, I don’t. But you should.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good.”
He’s still standing behind me and I can feel my heart beating faster. I sip my drink as he puts his down on the ledge that runs along the windows, his arm practically wrapped around me as he does it.
If I move even an inch, I’ll brush up against him. I can feel his body behind me, hard and warm and imposing. He’s a lot larger than I am, and for a second, I feel a stab of fear.
But the fear dissolves like sugar in whiskey when he puts his hand on my hip.
“How far are you willing to go for your job?” he whispers in my ear.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Would you say no to me?”
“Yes,” I say.
“I don’t believe you,” he whispers back, amusement in his voice.
“I can say no,” I push.
“I think you can. But I don’t think you will.”
I bite my lip, breathing faster now. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He laughs, his other hand on my hip. I feel him press against me, and I think his cock is hard, or at least half hard. I’m so excited I can barely breathe.
But I shouldn’t do this. I’m new to this job and we’re going to be working together. I can’t let this happen, I have to set boundaries. I turn around, intent on pushing him away, but as soon as I put my hands on his chest, I stop.
I stare up into his eyes. I can’t move a muscle.
His smile is delicious and terrifying.
“Like I said,” he whispers. “You can, but you won’t.”
He kisses me and I kiss him back. It’s stupid, reckless, but I can’t help myself.
He’s right. I could say no. I just don’t want to.
He pulls me tight against him. I can feel his hard cock now, pulsing against me. I feel his tongue against mine, his taste on my lips, and it’s intoxicating. Everything about this man is intense and powerful and dominating, and I hate that I love it.
I should despise him. I’m an artist and he’s a businessman. He makes his living off of other people, while I just want to create art for the world. We’re basically opposites, and yet everything about him is so alluring that I can’t help myself.
I want to be controlled, dominated. I didn’t know that until I was down on my knees for him, bowing to him, cleaning his carpet, shining his shoes.
There’s a sudden buzz at his desk and he breaks off the kiss. “Shit,” he whispers as he steps away. I’m left standing there, practically trembling with desire for him.
I take a sip of my drink, just to try and steady myself.
He picks up his phone. “What?” He listens for a moment with a frown on his face. “Fine.” He hangs up and looks at me. “We can finish this discussion another time, Hazel.”
I nod once and bite my lip. “Yes, sir.” I knock back the drink all in one go, hoping it’ll help calm me down.
He watches me leave. I can feel his eyes on my body, and it excites me. God, it excites me so much.
This man is dark and mysterious. Apparently, he’s dangerous. Apparently, I should be afraid of him.
Instead, I want him so badly and it’s driving me insane.
6
Mason
That night, I think about my new fucking assistant, and my cock is so hard I can barely stand it.
That kiss, god damn, that fucking kiss. It’s the first kiss I’ve had in five years, and it felt so fucking good. It’s like I forgot how good a woman can feel against me, ready to give herself to me, ready to obey me simply because she wants to. Hazel was shaking with desire and delight and fear. I reveled in it, loved her reaction, wanted to push her even more.
Until fucking Rogers called and reminded me about a teleconference meeting I had scheduled.
Now though, now I can picture what I would’ve done to her. I could’ve lifted her skirt up, teased her tight little pussy with my fingers, pushed her boundaries just a little bit. I’d make her get down on her knees and beg me for more before getting her off.
When she reaches the point where she can’t take it anymore, I’ll slide my cock into her mouth and make her gag on it. I’d make her beg me some more with my dick down her throat.
Only after she performs for me will I give her what she wants. Ass out, spread wide open, pussy glistening wet. I’ll fuck that tight cunt, make her come a thousand times.
I stroke my cock just thinking about it. I need to feel her breasts, feel her hips, feel her ass. I need to taste her dripping pussy, slide my tongue inside of her, lick every inch of her. I want to hear her pant and moan and beg.
I want to see how far she’ll really go for me.
I stroke myself faster, faster, thinking about my dirty new assistant. I’ll push her buttons, make her strip, spank her ass red and raw. I want to see just how much cock she can handle.
I come thinking about her body, her name on my lips. I clean myself up and slip into a deep, dream-free sleep for the first time in years.
The next morning, after waking at a more reasonable hour and working out, I shower off and dress before heading into my office.
Hazel’s already there, standing at attention and holding the same silver tray. This time, there’s a newspaper on it.
Good old Rogers, always knows what I want, although not necessarily what I need.
“Good morning, Hazel,” I say, sitting down.
“Good morning.” She walks over and puts the tray down before doing a passable curtsy, barely able to contain her grin.
“Better,” I say. “Still a little awkward.”
Her grin fades and she glares at me. “I practiced that.”
“Practice harder.” I wave my hand at the tray. “Pick it up, come around the desk, and kneel.”
She frowns, but does as I ask. She comes around and kneels down next to me.
I swivel my chair and pour some coffee. I take the cup and put it in front of me before opening the paper.
I make her sit there on her knees, holding up the tray with the coffee pot on it while I page through the paper. I finally find the article I’m looking for, a short little write-up about the deal I’ve been brokering with the Chinese.
I read it with a frown and toss the paper aside.
“Bad news?” she asks.
I glare at her. “Speak when spoken to, Hazel.”
“Sorry, sir.” She looks down at t
he floor.
I sigh. “Not bad news. Just… inaccurate.”
“They didn’t get it right?”
“They misrepresented what I’ve been doing.”
“What have you been doing?”
I hesitate and give her a look. “Watch yourself.”
“Sorry, sir.”
I sip my coffee and idly page through the rest of the paper. She stays where she is for nearly five minutes. I can tell her arms are exhausted, but she doesn’t complain and doesn’t make a face. She just stays there, doing exactly what I told her to do.
Most people would be angry by now. Most people would be too tired to keep going. But not Hazel. She stays still, face calm.
I’m impressed. Very impressed, actually.
“Get up,” I say finally, putting the rest of the paper back on the tray. “You can put it down now.”
She lets out a sigh of relief and puts the tray on the corner of my desk. I pour some more coffee as she stretches her arms out.
“I’m really going to be muscular after this,” she says, smiling at me.
I shake my head. I don’t know how she’s spinning this into a joke. I just made her kneel next to me and hold up a tray like she’s a piece of furniture, and yet she’s smiling.
Art degree or not, she must be the strongest assistant I’ve had in here… maybe the strongest person to date.
I stand up and come around the desk. She watches me as I circle her, looking at her body. She’s wearing a skirt again, another black skirt, this time with a tucked-in white top with a bow at the neck.
“I’m impressed,” I say to her.
“About what?”
“You didn’t complain.”
“Speak when spoken to,” she quotes.
I suppress a smile. “Very good. I’ll have to reward that behavior.”
She raises an eyebrow. “How?”
“Step up to the desk.” I command. “Palms flat, legs spread.”
She hesitates, but does as I command. She’s bent over slightly, legs spread open. She’s wearing tasteful black heels again and her ass looks fucking incredible in that tight skirt.
I step up behind her.
“My punishments are a lot like my rewards,” I whisper softly, fingertips trailing up the sides of her legs until I get to the hem of her skirt. I take it and slowly start to pull it up.
She looks over her shoulder, but doesn’t move a muscle.
Good girl.
“Sometimes it feels good to get punished,” I whisper as I pull the skirt up over her ass, taking it nice and slow. Her skin is smooth and her ass is full, and I can feel my cock already raging hard, throbbing for her, begging to taste that sweet, tight pussy.
Not now, though. Now it’s about her.
I palm her ass and squeeze. She gasps softly, but still doesn’t move. I watch as she slowly looks over her shoulder at me, and I smirk as I slowly slide my hand down to cup her pussy.
She bites her lip as I start to slowly rub her wet spot. I can feel her clit, soaking through her panties, already engorged and needy. I rub it in slow, sensual motions and her eyes roll back into her head as she dips her chin down, hair spilling down around her.
“Shit,” she gasps.
I laugh softly. “Perk of the job,” I say.
She moans as I pull my hand back and push her panties aside. I slowly rub her wet pussy, loving how soaking wet she is. I can feel her cunt begging for me, practically screaming for me, and I slide two fingers deep inside.
She groans and grips my desk tighter. I slowly slide my fingers in and out, moving them back to rub her clit before sliding back inside of her again. I step up closer and grab her hair with my other hand, pulling it back.
She gasps, pushing her breasts out. I kiss her neck as I bury my fingers deep in her little tight pussy. I roll them inside her, sliding in and out, finding her spot and rubbing against it.
“Fuck,” she whispers, panting now. I move faster, fingers in and out, pushing against her spot, making her moan.
“When you obey me, you get rewarded,” I whisper in her ear. “This is just the start. I can give you a lot more, Hazel. All you need to do is obey me.”
She groans as I pull her hair back again. I work her clit, kissing her neck, before pushing her back down onto the desk.
I spank her ass hard. She gasps, surprised, and looks over her shoulder. Shock and hurt reflect in her eyes.
I smirk and spank her again before rubbing her clit.
“Fuck,” she says. “That stings.”
“A little punishment makes the reward sweeter,” I say.
She bites her lip. “Does it?”
I spank her one more time before rubbing her clit and burying my fingers inside. She groans, moaning now, moving her hips in time with my fingers.
“You know it does,” I say, grabbing her hair again. “You love it when it’s nice and sweet, just like I love this sweet little pussy. I had no idea you were so filthy and could be so obedient.”
“Yes,” she pants now as I move my fingers in and out, pushing against her spot, rubbing her clit, pulling her hair. “I can be good. I can listen.”
“I need to train you. Teach you how to be good. But you’re right, you can listen. I have hope for you, Hazel.”
I move faster and faster, fingers fucking her deep. Her hips are moving with me, her moans are getting louder, and I know she’s getting close. I can smell it on her, sense it on her. All her muscles are tense and her fingers grip the edge of the desk until her knuckles turn white.
I kiss her neck and fuck her faster. She gasps as my fingers push deep and I know she’s about to come.
“Go ahead, Hazel,” I whisper in her ear. “Say my name while you come.”
“Oh, fuck, sir,” she groans.
“Say my fucking name, Hazel.”
“Fuck, Mason.” She gasps, grabbing the desk, her whole body shuddering as her pussy contracts. I watch the orgasm rip through her and I keep fucking her pussy, not letting up for a single second. I keep her hair pinned, my arms taut and hard, my cock throbbing with each and every thrust of my fingers.
“Shit,” she moans, falling forward onto the desk, panting slowly. I laugh and slide my fingers from her, patting her ass gently.
“Good girl,” I say out loud. I sit down in my chair behind my desk and lick my fingers clean. I love the way she tastes.
She watches me do it, curiosity mingled with desire.
After a moment, she straightens herself, fixes her panties, and pulls her skirt down.
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Nothing for now, thank you,” I say.
She nods a little, performs another curtsy, and leaves. I watch her ass the whole time, barely able to control myself.
But I do control myself. I have to be able to control myself if I’m going to be able to control her. That’s how this works.
I give her pleasure, give her so much more than she ever imagined, and I keep control.
7
Hazel
I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my body.
I know it’s wrong. I shouldn’t have this weird, crazy, intense thing with my boss. But he’s such a strange and intense man, and so damn attractive, I just…
I can’t help myself. Not when he’s touching me like that. I want him to order me around, make me do things I’d never consider doing, because it feels so damn good.
I just keep feeling his fingers buried in my pussy, sliding in and out. I’ve never gotten off so easily just from a man’s fingers before, but he was so talented and knew exactly where to touch me, exactly how the fuck to rub me.
And there was the spanking. I’ve never been into that before, always thought it was a little weird, but he was right.
A little pain makes the pleasure that much better.
I sleep like a log that night, and I get up early to make it into the office on time. I report to my usual spot, a bag packed for the afternoon.
&
nbsp; I bring a spare pair of panties, just in case.
I’m practically buzzing as I sit down in my usual spot, sipping on a coffee in a large travel mug. Rogers is posted behind a desk at the far end of the room, and he glances up as I arrive.
“Good morning,” he says to me.
I smile and nod. “Good morning, Rogers.”
The man watches me curiously for a moment. We spend a lot of time in this room together, but we barely ever talk. Mostly he just glares at me and tells me to hurry up when I have a little task to do for Mason. Mostly I just sit here and wait for my next command while Rogers does whatever he does at his computer.
He’s clearly very good at ignoring people. This morning, though, he looks at me like I’m some strange creature that he’s never noticed before.
“How would you say your time here has been so far, Hazel?” Rogers asks me.
I frown a little and shrug. “Great so far,” I say. “It’s an odd job and Mr. Ward can be intense, but it’s good overall.”
Rogers nods. “I admit that Mr. Ward is very strange and can be difficult sometimes, but you have to trust him. He knows what he’s doing.”
I nod and smile. “I’m just doing what I’m told.”
“Good, good.” He frowns a little bit and sighs. He rubs his eyes, a rare gesture of weakness from Rogers. Normally he’s upright and severe looking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him yawn or even go use the bathroom, come to think of it.
“I’ll admit, Mr. Ward has been in a pleasant mood ever since you started. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”
I blink at him. “Okay, sure. Of course. I’m just doing my job.”
“The others were just doing their jobs too, but he was never like this.” Rogers stands. “Keep it up.”
“Thank you.”
He shrugs and heads off to prepare Mason’s morning platter. I take it like usual and position myself in his office in the normal spot, waiting for him to arrive.
The tray isn’t so heavy, and plus, I can lean it against the window sill while I wait. I can hear him coming down the hallway, which gives me enough time to turn and get into the ready position. I actually kind of like this, standing here and staring out the window at the city, waiting for that man to come in.
