Private Secretary

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Private Secretary Page 10

by Sindra van Yssel


  He hadn’t come yet, and she felt like a limp rag doll. She couldn’t get any oomph in her legs when she pushed back against him. She was utterly spent. And he, unexpectedly, had stilled. A fluttering aftershock went through her, a welcome echo of the pleasure she’d experienced. “Could you feel that?” she asked, curious.

  “Oh yeah.” He stroked her back, tenderly, and took his finger out of her ass. “Is there more?”

  “I didn’t expect there to be that much.”

  “I did.”

  Cocky man. Of course, that was one of the things she found attractive about him. “Use me for your pleasure, Sir.”

  Instead, he gripped the base of the condom and pulled out. “No, Carrie.”

  “No?”

  “You heard me. Get me a moist towelette from the box in the restroom.” He zipped up his pants and walked back around to his chair. He sat himself down in it.

  “I’m not sure I can move.”

  “When you’re ready,” he said. His voice was distant. His cock had to be aching, though, didn’t it? He’d been rock hard, she knew that.

  Why didn’t he come? She caught her breath. He turned and looked at his computer screen and typed in something with one hand. Was he really doing work, or just pretending? She wanted to scoot so she could see, but she suspected that wouldn’t be appreciated.

  He’d asked for a towelette. She righted herself after a few moments and got one from the restroom.

  “Thank you, Carrie,” he said when she returned. He wiped his fingers clean. “You can return to your desk now. I’ve sent you work.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked. She’d been perfectly content for him to achieve satisfaction and leave her needy. The other way around she didn’t understand at all. She didn’t like it, either.

  “No, that will be enough.” He typed, with two hands now, glancing only sidelong at her briefly.

  “Possibly on my knees?”

  “No, I want your bottom firmly planted on your chair.”

  That would hurt, but that wasn’t why she pressed on. She was going to have to sit down eventually. She wanted to know she was pleasing to him. “I’d love to take your beautiful cock in my mouth, Sir.”

  He turned to look at her. “I said no, Carrie.”

  “But why?”

  “You’ve had your way long enough, Carrie, with your little masquerade. I can indulge you, but it is quite another thing to take advantage of you. I’ll think about how this is to proceed. And you, I’m sure, will be reminded of exactly what has just happened. For now, we have work to do. Go.”

  Carrie sighed and turned away. She knew he was right about the work. It wouldn’t go away, although she was more than willing to work into the evening to make up for any time lost during the day.

  If he was just her Dom, she might have argued. But she could scarcely insist that he keep things sexual between them, and as her boss he had every right to order her to go back to work if that was what he wanted.

  She walked back to her desk and sat. Immediately her bottom remembered the feeling of the paddle. She tried to adjust to find a comfortable way to sit, but even in the expensive ergonomic chair he’d provided her, there just wasn’t a good way to sit with a bruised ass. Eventually, she decided not to bother. He wanted her to feel it, after all. And there was work to do. She opened her email to see what it entailed.

  More typing. She couldn’t help but feel this was an excellent day for filing, or any other activity that didn’t involve sitting, but she pulled up the documents and started working away.

  Chapter Seven

  Blake had crossed a personal line, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. It would be unethical to let Carrie go as an employee. It didn’t seem right to let her go as a submissive, either, since she clearly wanted his sexual attention. And yet continuing both was untenable.

  I should have dealt with this before I indulged in that little desk fantasy. Now I’m stuck.

  He smiled as the warm water beat down on his back and his dick twitched. What a delightful place to be stuck. And what a wonderful woman Carrie was. He was trying to reconcile the idea of her being C in his head still. C and Carrie both seemed haunted, and he needed to understand why. Something in Carrie’s life led her to seek anonymity behind a mask. He had presumed C worked for some government agency that required a security clearance, or in another sensitive job. It was ironic that, as it turned out, her employer was as open-minded as could be, and no one knew better than he did where C worked. Right under me.

  The moment he thought it, his mind wandered to a very different kind of under.

  Clearly, as C, Carrie had played with other Doms. Probably more than one. The notion made him irrationally jealous, as if their relationship had started the moment she started working for him, instead of a month ago at Iron Butterfly. Even for the past month, they had made no commitment that allowed him to be so possessive. He didn’t usually worry about that sort of thing with partners. He wanted connection, but he didn’t need attachment.

  Carrie, however, was a different matter. Maybe that’s just because she’s my secretary. That already puts her in my vanilla life. He wasn’t convinced, but that explanation would have to do for now. Either way, he needed to know more about her.

  If I’m not going to let my little head control my big head, I’m going to need some relief. He gave his cock a tug, and it responded by stiffening. He didn’t want to think about Carrie while he masturbated. He was thinking about her enough already without reinforcing it. His mind flashed over a dozen images of women he had been with, and even a sexy movie star, as he brought himself close to the edge. Then he thought about Carrie and her offer. Images mixed, and he imagined her kneeling in front of him at his desk, with the water from the shower pouring down on her and soaking through the white blouse she wore. He came hard, his cum joining the water and washing down the drain. Oh, how I’d rather come in that sweet mouth of hers.

  He lingered under the shower for a few more minutes to rinse off and then got ready for work. He still wasn’t sure his brain was doing all his thinking, but maybe more of it at least. One thing is clear. I’m keeping her. He just wasn’t sure how.

  * * * * *

  Carrie glanced at her watch. It was 8:40 a.m. Blake was never late for work. He had a meeting scheduled at nine thirty with a client who was coming to the office. She shrugged. There wasn’t much she could do about it. She’d felt a little bit of control as she’d flirted with Blake as Carrie and seduced him as C. Now it was in his hands. She’d thought that the sex between them would make their relationship clear, but he’d been distant after and she didn’t know what to make of it all now. He’d made it clear that he’d be making the decisions. She wasn’t going to offer to go down on him again only to get turned down.

  Five minutes later Blake breezed into the office, wearing an elegantly tailored suit and carrying a briefcase. “Good morning, Carrie.”

  “Good morning, Sir,” she said, hoping to catch his eye. He raked her with his gaze but then kept going.

  She had been hoping he’d check to see if she’d followed his instructions about underwear. But failing that, a little more of a greeting would have been nice. She watched him as he went into his office. The back view was pretty good.

  Sigh. He even has a good ass. Maybe I should go downstairs and get some coffee to bring him and then ask him what my place is.

  But a few minutes later Blake came back out, his hands jiggling something in the pocket of his coat. His keys? Is he heading back out already?

  He stopped abruptly at her desk. “Carrie? Are you seeing anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “Am I seeing you?”

  He glared at her for a moment, and she almost wilted under it. Still, it was something she needed clarifying. She was a sub, not a doormat. It was a strange thought because she’d been happy to be an object and to be used by a number of people, including Blake. But that had been Blake the Dom she met at
a party, not Blake her employer. By turning herself into two people she’d almost convinced herself he was, too. She couldn’t be just a toy to him now. She needed more.

  “Yes, you are seeing me. I’d appreciate if you didn’t start seeing anyone else at least until we figure out what we have together.”

  She nodded. She had no intention of seeing anyone else anyway. “Does that apply to you too, Sir?”

  “Of course,” he said brusquely.

  She raised her eyebrows. There wasn’t any of course about it. A lot of Dominants seemed to think faithfulness was for subs. She’d been faithful and devoted to her husband, and it hadn’t gotten her very far.

  “Sorry. Perhaps that’s not as obvious to you as it is to me. But I wouldn’t ask you to be exclusive if I wasn’t willing to offer the same in return.” He paused. “You’ve had a lot of lovers, haven’t you? I guess we both have.”

  “I wouldn’t call any of them lovers, Sir. Doms, yes. But I never for a moment thought that any of them loved the woman behind the mask. None of them has ever known the woman behind the mask.” She wondered if she should tell him what she was thinking. She always hid her thoughts. But this was different, and she decided to take a chance. “I think I’m more naked right here, right now, than I usually am with my clothes off.”

  “No more secrets,” he said.

  “No more secrets,” she agreed, mentally reserving the story of what had happened to her daughter. He didn’t need to know.

  “How much time until Drexel gets here?”

  She glanced at corner of her computer screen. “Twenty minutes, Sir.”

  “Come into my office, then. Just in case he’s entirely too early.” He turned and walked away, and she got up. Her butt still ached when she sat, and probably would for several days, but the relief of pressure when she stood was welcome. At the same time, blood rushed back into the once-compressed area, making her feel it all over again. For a moment, she felt lightheaded, almost high, but she made her legs move to follow him.

  He sat on the edge of desk and waited for her. “Close the door.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She closed it behind her and turned to face him.

  “Open your blouse.”

  Her pulse quickened. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons as she complied. She managed to get all the buttons undone and then looked up at him.

  “Leave it on, because we don’t know how much time we have, but unfasten your bra in the back.”

  She did as she was told.

  He lifted her bra once she had it loose, and pulled out a silver chain from which dangled two clamps.

  “Tease your nipples to hardness.”

  “They’re already firm, Sir.” They’d reacted to being exposed and were tingling.

  “Do as you’re told and don’t back talk.”

  She breathed. I’m not in control. He was being very clear, if a little cold. And even that emotional distance was somehow erotic. Whatever he had in mind, she wanted it more than a cuddle. Although a cuddle someday would be nice. She pinched and tugged at her nipples until they were so stiff they ached.

  “Good.” He said. “Stop.”

  She removed her hands. He attached a clamp to her right nipple. She pressed her lips together and scrunched her eyes in response to the sudden pain. It was already fading by the time he attached the left. He tightened them only enough to have them hold, and she was well aware he could have done more.

  Then he stood back and surveyed his work. “You have very pretty breasts, Carrie. They look good that way.”

  She gulped. Surely he didn’t intend to show them off to the client. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Now fix yourself up and keep the clamps on. Mr. Drexel will be here soon, and we don’t want him to know what we’re up to, so button your suit jacket as well.”

  She took a breath and nodded. She had fastened her bra and buttoned her blouse most of the way when her worry overtook her. “How long am I to leave it on, Sir?”

  “Until I take it off, or tell you to unfasten it, of course. Now, go sit at your desk, and don’t move from there except to show Mr. Drexel in. After you send him in, I want you to send me an email about how your bottom feels, and how your breasts feel. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She was clear on it. She just didn’t know how she was going to concentrate. She finished buttoning and pulled her jacket around her, as directed.

  “Then go.”

  She returned to her seat, conscious of the way the clamps tugged her nipples as she walked. If she hadn’t had a bra on, the swinging of the chain probably would have increased the sensation. She was at least spared that. They didn’t really sting anymore, though. It was more of a dull ache. The ache distracted her enough that she forgot to sit down gingerly, and her chair immediately reminded her of what he’d done to her ass the day before.

  It’s going to be an interesting day.

  She tried to type a letter, but she was distracted thinking about the email she was supposed to send. He didn’t say I had to write it after Mr. Drexel got here. Just send it after. She started typing.

  “Sir. My ass hurts from the cropping you gave it the other day. Thank you for giving me something to remember you by. My nipples are aching for your touch and are very happy they are yours, but I don’t know how long the clamps can stay on. That worries me.” She paused. He had shown that he knew what he was doing with toys, and he was a responsible Dom. He’d know the clamps couldn’t stay on forever. She deleted the last sentence. “Thank you, Sir,” she wrote.

  I really hope he doesn’t leave them on too long.

  At that moment Mr. Drexel, a short man with glasses and a bald spot poorly concealed by his comb-over, entered, carrying a briefcase. His suit was rumpled.

  “Hello,” he said. “I’m Forest Drexel. I’m here to see Blake Andrews?”

  “Of course.” She hit a switch on her phone. “Mr. Drexel here to see you, Sir.”

  “Send him in,” said Blake.

  “Right this way,” she said to Drexel. She didn’t want to call him sir. The word had taken on more meaning for her. She showed the man into the office, and then went back to her desk. This time, she savored the feeling as her bottom sank into the chair. Blake wasn’t acting out her fantasies, but he was being unpredictable. And I am very, very wet.

  She hit Send and then focused on her work as well as she could. He’d told her to sit in the chair, and if it weren’t for that, she’d have been tempted to go to the restroom and relieve some of the arousal she felt. She waited.

  This is very distracting. And if I make mistakes, he might spank me again. But we’ve got a business to run here, too. I may be putting in overtime to get the same work done, if it’s going to be like this.

  She typed a little more, then glanced at the time. The clamps had been on for fifteen minutes.

  The little ring that told her she had mail chimed. She looked at her computer.

  “There’s a web cam pointed at your desk, and only I can see it from here. We’re going to be a while. Take the clamps off. Put them in your top right drawer after you’re done. You’ll be needing them again.”

  She looked around and spotted the camera. Oh, my.

  She could just undo a single button and fish the clamps out of her bra, but knowing he was watching made her feel a little more show was required. And if he was watching out of the corner of his eye while he was with a client? Well, he couldn’t do anything about any hard-on he got. I have a little sadist in me, it seems. She undid her blouse and unfastened her bra, just as she had before, and then lifted her breasts entirely out of the cups. Only then did she pinch both clamps and pull them off.

  The blood rushed back into her sensitive peaks. She had to bite her lip, hard, to avoid crying out. Even with that, she let out a squeak. She should have known, but in her desire to distract him she’d forgotten how much clamps hurt coming off, especially if they’d been on for a while.

  Hurriedly, in case the noise had attracted attenti
on, she refastened her bra and buttoned herself up. She put the clamps in the drawer as directed.

  The fact that he was watching helped, however, even though her nipples ached and she was feeling far too horny. There had been a purpose to her pain, and she suspected he enjoyed the look on her face.

  Twenty minutes later the door opened and Blake ushered Mr. Drexel out, chatting to him until they were past Carrie and out the door. Only when the door was closed did Blake turn back to her and acknowledge her presence.

  “Very lovely display, Carrie.”

  “Thank you, Sir. I would have liked having your hands take the clamps off.”

  “I would have liked that too. Tomorrow, put them on when you get in, and I will take them off when I arrive.”

  Thoughts of how he’d been late that morning filled her head. She wouldn’t know when he’d get in, or how long they would have to stay on. It was frightening and delicious all at the same time. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you masturbate often, Carrie?”

  She could feel the heat in her cheeks and was sure they were quite red. “Sometimes.”

  “What do you think about?”

  “You.” Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest.

  “Well, from now on, call me and ask permission before you do. Any time, day or night.”

  “But…” He was taking this to a whole new level.

  “You have a problem with that?”

  He was telling her, not asking. But it was still negotiation. She could speak up if she wanted to badly enough to break the dynamic. It was her body, after all. It belonged to her. But she wanted it to belong to him. Still, she’d had experience with Doms who made all kinds of demands, and in the end, became simply bored with her. And while she had a unique position as his secretary, Blake could have any of a number of women. “What if you’re out with someone else?”

  “A client? It’ll be on my schedule.”

  “A woman.”

  “I won’t be. Between a business to run, and you, I have enough on my plate. Any other objections?”

 

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