by Mia Madison
“Eager little girl aren't you?”
I nod furiously. He has no idea.
My panties are still half to the side, caught in my sodden lips. One side is exposed to the air, gathering sparks of yearning. He looks as though he can't decide, then he tears them down my legs. I'm left standing with my wrists bound over my head, forcing me to press my bobbing tits into a cleavage.
“I love those fucking stockings,” he growls.
I only have two pair. It was never my intention to come to the workplace trussed up like a sex starved pleasure doll every day.
“I want you to wear those to the office every day. You look so fucking sexy with the top of your thighs naked and your gorgeous pussy dripping and soaking them. Do you understand my order?”
I nod again. I'll have to run to Macy’s and buy some but I'll do it. Every day will be torture, wearing them incites the awareness of the nakedness at my inner thighs tops, the pressure of the bare flesh on my pussy mouth.
“Good girl. You'd better do it because I'll be running spot checks.”
Holy shit, this is going to be an impossibly enthralling temp placement. He's going to call me into his office and tell me to hitch up my skirt to show him my thighs, my pussy dampening them. I let out a moan into the bind in my mouth, the need to come is so painful. I don’t know how long he's going to deny me climax. How long he'll tease and punish me and I can't take much more.
My syrup rolls down my inner thigh and is absorbed by the stocking top. I am literally dripping for him and still he won't fuck me. He won't take out his cock, which I can tell is going to be stunning. A man this beautiful wouldn't have a pointed thin dick. For sure it's going to be a powerful blade, hard and throbbing that I could impale myself on in ecstasy.
The wild sense of abandon returns and I'm beyond needy to give Mr Wellman my ass. I wish I could tell him but of course I can't. I have to wait patiently for him to give me what I need and allow me to speak. It's taking me to the brink of detonation.
“Spread for me, Angel.”
I immediately open my legs and let him gaze on my pussy.
“So pretty. I can't wait to lie down with my head between those rather schoolmistress shoes and have you lower that dripping little cunt onto my mouth.”
I almost go over the edge hearing the boss talk so filthy to me. I don't know what his position is exactly but he sure inspired a heap of awe from the entire staff, so he must be powerful even if his daddy handed it all to him on a platter. I start to buck against my restraints, writhing my lower body, letting him know I'm ready.
I won't disobey him any longer. I want to cover the scratch of stubble on his jaw with my opening and grind erotic circles across his firm pillow lips. How does he restrain himself so easily? The college jocks I've been with would have been finished and dead to the world by now.
“So eager,” he burrs in a voice that has me dripping.
This build up is agony but also delicious. When he finally allows it, my orgasm is going to shake me to the edge of reason. A real mind blowing, teeth chattering, skin inside out kind of climax I've only ever dreamed about.
“Are you eager to learn as well?”
He flips my naked body around, my wrist hook rotates, allowing him to crush me against his ridged torso. My bare ass presses up into his bulge. His cock slides into the seam between my cheeks, hot and pulsating. The fine wool against my hole sends tremors that make my breasts jiggle.
“Gorgeous fucking tits. Unbelievable ass. You were made for me, Christmas temp.”
His hands slide across my bare breasts, sizing up their generous weight with a moan against my neck. Then continue down my waist. I open my legs a little wider, the whoosh of air against my throbbing little clit making it tingle. He laughs lightly at my eagerness but his palms slide over the curve of hip and fill with my flesh. He pushes my ass cheeks apart. With one fist gripping my flesh open, the fingers of the other trail across my asshole. I shudder through a convulsion against his solid chest at my back.
“You like that, baby girl?” he gruffs against my ear.
I nod vigorously. If I wasn't gagged I'd plead for more. Much more.
He reaches around my body, shifting slightly to pull my pussy lips open. Not that they need to be, I'm already spread like a superhero for him.
“Argh. Ohrrh.” I moan, my head twisting side to side as he traces slow divine circles around my entrance.
He lifts away and the vacancy of his disappearance leaves me deflated. But his hand returns to my ass and the circles restart at my other hole. As do the shudders and tremors of dirty want.
Ohmigod, he's rubbing my copious pussy juice into my ass. I arch my back across the swell of his hard chest, feeling the solid bulge of pectoral muscle at my back. Fuck, I want him looming over me, crushing me beneath him.
His fingers probe at the tight entrance. Jesus he's not going to – he does. A fingertip pushes through the pinhole and a rush of wrong floods up my rectum. I'm suddenly full in the wrong direction and it feels weird. So weird.
His finger withdraws and the tight sphincter relaxes in relief. But I still feel full. What? There's something left inside me. I squeeze my ass cheeks as though to pulsate it out like a snake voiding its dinner. Mr Wellman laughs again as I flex my butt in the huge hand still grappling my ass to pull it apart. The initial strangeness melts into a delicious sensation of pressure buried inside my butt. I relax back against his chest, into his palm.
“Good girl,” he grits against my neck.
His hand lifts beside our joined cheeks and the aroma of me makes my head spin. Mr Wellman licks me off his fingers then douses them with his saliva. My head falls back on his shoulder as he repeats the exquisite agony. Rubbing my rear hole with his juice, before pushing his digit inside. Again stroking my tunnel as he withdraws and leaving something nestled inside my ass.
He's filling me. Each time I stretch a little more and with each tiny movement, each pleading grind of my hips, the invading objects rub against my dark tunnel, sending sparks of electric current through every limb.
I'm moaning and writhing against his chest as he hides three more items inside my body then crushes me to him, filling his hands with my tits. He squeezes and presses them brutally, making them fill with lust and desire. He rolls a nipple in his fingers, tugging the starving pellet forward until it elongates. He reaches into his pants, enthralling me with anticipation for what he's bringing out. But he returns to my peak and a sharp pain stabs at the demanding tip making me squeal out behind the gag.
Mr Wellman cups the undersides of my tits gently in his grasp as the agony subsides, again leaving me with an erotic build up of pressure. My body is being overwhelmed with fiery sensations of lust even more than when I touched myself for him. He has complete control over every little nuance of feeling roaring through my body. He's wrested complete control over my emotions away from me and treating me like his puppet. It's the most incredible thing I've ever experienced. I could never have imagined this.
“Mr Wellman, we've been looking for you everywhere.”
A female voice on the other side of the closet, at the office door, stiffens his every muscle and sends me tumbling into panic.
Chapter Ten
A bolt of jealousy flies through my tummy. Has the woman come to claim him? Why else would she be busting into his father's office.
“Andrea, I had to change my tie. I had a run in with something sticky.”
“Let me get that for you,” she announces with proprietary gall.
Ohmigod, she's coming over here.
“No,” he barks. “I already have it.”
Thank god, he has his selection of ties lined up on a custom-made hangar in this closet. And thank fuck I am hidden from the secretary's view by the sliding door. I tip my head back to where I can see through a tiny crack between door and frame, the woman is smartly dressed in a tight skirt not unlike my own.
“It's okay, I found him,” she tells a guy in a uniform,
just arrived. Shit, security. An older gentleman with a gray beard.
“I saw the light and thought someone had invaded your office,” she adds. “I called Thomas.”
Mr Wellman snaps a tie off the hangar and emerges from the closet, pulling the door across further behind him but not enough to leave me without oxygen.
“Let me get that for you,” the woman says.
It irks me how custodial she's being with him. Like she can't wait to get her hands on him. I watch through the sliver, as she adoringly ties the knot at his neck. She looks up at him trying to entice him with her eyes and I feel a stab of jealousy. I'm thrilled when he ignores her and instead, steals a quick glance at the closet door, seeking me out.
Silence falls and she's clearly waiting for him to do something.
“They're all waiting downstairs to do your annual Christmas roast,” she says.
“I'll be right there,” he replies, “I'll just make sure everything's secure in here.”
With another glance back toward me.
Fuck, he isn’t going to leave me tied up in here?
“I can do that for you, Sir,” the night watchman says.
“You know what, let's all go.” he leads them forcefully from his office, flips out the light and shuts the door.
Holy shit, I'm left here naked and trussed up with only the shallow green light of the banker's lamp on the desk.
His desk. His office. His closet full of his ties
What an idiot I am. How did I fail to detect that he's the CEO of Wellman, not his father?
Andrea is the name of the boss's secretary. The one who directs my tasks from above via the youngest receptionist. Andrea just went all secretary mode on her boss.
My body buckles against the binds at my wrists as I realize I've been the sex toy for the boss, not his wayward arrogant son. That is so dirty, my juices start flooding down my thigh, drenching the stocking tops. Fuck, what if he gets drunk and forgets about me. Or Andrea gets her claws in him and he forgets me about me.
I yank on my arms but the tie is strapped tight. With very pull, the sensation inside my ass radiates through my core and makes my clit throb more wildly. I shimmy again and something knocks against my inner thighs like a pendulum swinging on a grandfather clock. Every time the weight moves, the caressing licks inside my butt send fiery lascivious need through my limbs.
I gasp through the gag, as hunger ravages through my lower half. The length of my pussy tunnel clenches in rhythm with the throbbing pain in my clit. My breasts seem to lift higher with the clamp he attached to one nipple making the desperate hunger more intense. I need him back here. Me lying against his chest with his huge hands roaming over my naked curves like he owned me was the most arousing moment of my life bar none. How long might it be until he returns?
And what if someone else comes in first?
It feels like I'm standing there alone for an age.
Tied up, unable to shift aside from waggling my lower half. Every tiny movement reinforcing the pounding demands in my pussy. The lusty sensations roll through me with every tick of the weighted string hanging from my asshole, tugging lightly on whatever he left buried inside. It becomes unbearable.
I can't inhale, I can't think. I need to fucking get off.
A succession of images play in my head. Me bent over Mr Wellman's huge desk as he spanks me and fondles my asshole. His huge dick inside me balls deep as he pulls my cheeks wide apart. My tits mashed into his desk as he pounds my pussy into submission.
When he eventually returns after what seems like hours, I'm nearly deranged by ravenous need. My arousal peaks when he unties me without a word. I try to kiss him. Throw my arms around his neck, desperate for his hands on me.
“Get dressed,” he orders, untangling from me. “It's late.”
He's turned off faster than a string of Christmas lights in January. He goes to his desk and deals with a few things while I stumble around the room looking for my clothes. A large gift-wrapped box now sits on the desk but he ignores it. A present from his staff? Or his sexy secretary? Tears prick at the backs of my eyes. So stupid but I can't help feeling devastated by his sudden loss of interest in me.
“No,” he barks, when I reach for the small weighted ball dangling between my legs.
My eyes fly to his face, tautened with trapped emotion.
“Leave it there. I want it inside you when you come to work tomorrow.”
“I -” I start to protest, but his face is set so stony I cut myself off.
The high tech clock on his desk says 3.38. Shit. How am I going to get home? A cab will run me a fortune. This job is turning into a disaster.
Once I'm dressed, he lets me out of the office and walks me down the caged hall. I see the wreckage of the reception below. It looks like an army has battled out a food fight.
He presses a button to a private elevator and we step inside. It's small so that I have to stand close to him. The heat coming from his body butts up against my skin like tide against a beached boat. I feel the chemistry between us, hovering, ready to ignite. But he won't allow it.
He looks at me and I can't stop looking back. He's so beautiful, a man that should be adored by millions. I want to consume him. I want to touch him with an intensity that might blow up in me. If the desire packed down in my core doesn't explode and destroy me first. The elevator stops and the door slides open to the triple high ground floor. He takes my hand and leads me across the expanse of white marble. The feel of his elegant but manly hard fingers around mine makes me shudder through lonely yearning.
The same limo and same driver waits at the curb in a no-park zone. The chauffeur opens the door and I get in without a squeak. Mr Wellman climbs in behind me and demands my address. I give it to him and he relays it to the driver. My filthy thoughts of him fucking me hard in the back of his limo are soon dashed as he sits far away against the wide leather armrest, his chin in his hand as he gazes out on the store windows, lit up and dancing with colorful Christmas displays.
I used to love the magical scenes the department stores create for Christmas. My parents would bring my sister and I into the city to take a tour of all of them. My nose pressed up against the glass followed by the aroma of hit chestnuts dad would buy from the vendor on the corner. Now the cheery glow makes my misery deepen.
To say I'm pissed would be an understatement.
We ride out to the suburbs in silence and I think of all the lies he's perpetrated on me. Not only his arrogant douche behavior at lunchtime, his not coming clean with me about his real position, his assumption that the temp is someone to be picked up and dropped off like a hot chestnut out of the brazier. Is he worried I'll file a complaint.
My god, think of the terrible publicity a lawsuit would drag him into. Is that what he's concerned about? That I'll cry sexual misconduct in the workplace? I'd like to put his mind at rest regarding all that but his face stalls any attempt at conversation. We pull up outside my house and I climb out.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say, no need to sink to a level of rudeness.
“Remember what I told you,” he commands, finally acknowledging my presence. “Leave it in. Don't you dare touch yourself. I'll know if you do. Your hot pussy belongs to me now. And don't forget to wear those stockings.”
“Anything else?” I snap, but wearing a grin I can't contain. “Sir?”
He gives a little jolt when I call him that. And seems to falter in his resolve. Then he makes a forceful effort.
“Good night, Georgia Jury.”
My name on his lips whips up a storm inside me. It's the first time he's said it. I never gave it to him. He must have made the effort to look it up.
“Good night, Mr Wellman, Sir.” I whisper.
And am rewarded with a jolt of his body and a shift in his pants as the driver closes the door.
Chapter Eleven
I fall asleep on the subway, heading to Manhattan the next morning. It's barely four hours since Mr Wellman dropped
me at home. He didn't give me a free pass to take the morning off so I'm woozy with lack of sleep.
I rolled around in bed all night without a moment of rest. Defying his command, I stroked my fingers across my pussy, gathering shivers of rising orgasm desperate for release. How would he know if I gave myself one small climax? In the end I didn't dare. I was curious to see what he had planned for me, so I'd wait. But it was impossible to unwind with the string between my legs, whatever he had pushed inside my tight cavern.
Shit. I'd been scrolling through for what that might be, doing a Google search on my phone when my eyelids drooped into a nap. Jumping awake when my neck howls from the angle of my loll, I pick up my phone and the screen pops open to images of butt plugs.
I swipe it away but the flush floods my cheeks as my neighbors smirk. I'm glad to exit the train into the sharp cold of midtown.
When I step off the elevator, the office reception is pristine.
“How? What happened to the disaster from the party?” I mutter at the beautiful perfection seated at the sleek glass reception desk.
“Mr Wellman has a huge overnight cleaning crew blast through. He likes us to have our fun once a year but he'd never allow the company image to be distorted.”
I eye her suspiciously, wondering whether she's been on the receiving end of Mr Wellman's fun.
“Is he in today?” I inquire casually. But still the query gets me a look from her.
“I can't say. He has a private elevator.”
I know that.
“And Andrea handles all his appointments.”
She gives me a knowing grin and I hurry away to the short tunnel leading to my storage room 'office'. The heating hardly reaches this lowly forgotten area and I can't warm up. Shivering, I can't stop wondering if he's up there in his office. Obviously I can't brazenly strut across reception and head up the open plan spiral staircase to his private suite right under the inquiring gaze of the three receptionists and assorted staff wandering through.
I can't concentrate. It's as bad as last night, rolling around in bed with the need to get off nibbling at me every which way. Every little move setting off thrills of desire starting deep in my assholewhere the balls rub against me. I hang my coat and go to get coffee. Scanning left and right for any sign of Mr Wellman's beautiful face and spectacular powerful body. No luck.
