“Oh, that’s terrific.”
She stood up, tossing her long hair back.
“Are those earrings from your old boyfriend as well?” he asked her, a coy smile on his face.
“These?” she shook her head. “No, these were for myself, to find a new boyfriend. Do you think they'll work?”
“I suppose you'll find out, won't you?”
“I certainly hope so...Sir.”
The whole exchange was so brilliantly hot and filled with sexual tension that Sophia had no idea how she didn't run to the bathroom and dip her fingers into her pussy right then and there.
But, the plan for that day wasn't over yet.
Wednesday was also to be the day she attempted her first “full bend.”
Right then, as she stepped out of the room, she “clumsily” dropped all her papers. So she got down on her knees in a somewhat unladylike fashion, her cleavage facing Sand. The tight pull of her blouse just pressed her sumptuous breasts even harder together, creating an even more dramatically sexy valley.
Then, all gathered up, she straightened out her graceful legs—bent over at the waist to gather up just a few more items from off the floor after doing so, letting him get a good long look at her terrific behind—and straightened up, shaking her long hair out. Her shiny locks sparkled in the light of the room, her statuesque form on display.
She couldn’t possibly look at him, her face was filled with too much open lust. But just as she closed the door, she could have sworn she heard a long, troubled sigh from the other end of the office.
That night, once she got home to her apartment and opened up her laptop, she found that Sand wrote her back.
subvixen,
As we are oh-so-fond of coyness, here is a coy shot of myself, taken just from out the shower.
I like violet on a proper submissive.
Find some. Wear some. Let me see.
-ExecStud
The photo was of his body—dripping wet—from the top of his chest down to the cusp of his pubic hair. His abs, so ripped and chiseled, the obliques making a tight, svelte v-shape, like an arrow pointing to his cock.
Oh god.
Oh fuck.
Within just a few moments, her skirt was down around her ankles, her flimsy panties pushed to the side. Her fingers plunged inside of her pussy, desperate to give her the release she so richly needed.
Her orgasm, fast and overpowering, nearly knocked her out of her chair.
Even for several minutes after she came, she could only slide her thumb up and down her clit, licking her lips, moaning.
“Master...” she called softly. “Masterrrrr...”
Eventually, after a she calmed down enough for her thoughts to clear.
Originally, she had wanted Friday to be her go-for-broke day. But, as she considered that, she remembered that Friday was a holiday—yes, even for Mr. Sand. And so she had to realign her plans accordingly.
The big day had to be Thursday.
Violet? All right, Mr. Sand, Sophia thought. Violet you shall have.
* * * * *
The next morning, she wore a tight minidress, its tiny length almost fit only for a club—barely going past the halfway mark of her long, sumptuous thighs. The portion over her torso was backless, held up by a teensy string around her neck—as well as the eagerly displayed buoyant masses of her tits.
To class it up a bit, she wore a light sweater on top—but the sweater was so clingy, and so tiny, that it was easy to see that it was little more than a paltry impediment to the full enjoyment of Sophia’s amazing body.
Once again, smoky dark stockings decorated her legs, made purely for drawing gazes away from her sensational chest—as if to say, “hey, I’ve got some killer legs too, fellas.”
It amused her, how easily she had gotten caught up in wearing so many hot outfits, how much confidence it filled her with. It seemed like what had been holding her confidence back all these years wasn’t her looks, or her body, or anything like that—it was just the willingness to put herself out there for men to see her and admire her.
Maybe, if Todd had been more open to her desires, such a confidence boost would have arrived ages ago.
Sizing herself up in the mirror, she gave a gentle shrug. Who cared what Todd thought? The jerk. He was missing out on all the fun, now.
To that end, she wore boots. Hot, skintight knee-length boots with four inch stiletto heels. They had little violet buckles.
And, taking a breath, she stepped out of her apartment and into the rest of her life.
Chapter 10
The advantage of taking her escalation in outfits somewhat slowly—and being attractive anyway—was that dressing as she did that day didn’t draw too many stares.
Well, not too many—but “too many” was a constantly moving yard line with her. She found herself starting to enjoy being looked at as an object.
She noted with satisfaction several handsome fellows on her walk from the parking garage in the Johnson Chrome Building taking long, eager stares at her bared legs and the sweet valley of cleavage formed by her tight dress. As she strutted into her elevator, Sophia put a little extra sway into her ass, letting them want her all the more.
It was so hot, knowing even without looking that they were all drifting toward the elevator, watching her body. It was so hot, knowing that they would be stroking their cocks later thinking about her.
And it was so very especially hot knowing that she had done all this, gathered all this attention, just for one man in particular.
During the past week, the attention hadn't been restricted solely to the parking garage, of course. There were plenty of hot-blooded men in the office. Just yesterday, all the married guys from accounting all begged her for a date, only half-joking. This was part of a growing trend.
Even though she hadn’t paid them too much mind, over the past few days, lots of the guys in the office had started staring at Sophia—paying extra attention as she bent over to deliver the mail, her bountiful cleavage on display, or their shoulders and heads perking upward when they heard the click of her heels on the tile floor.
Just like with the men on the bus, it was hard to say she didn’t enjoy the attention. Obviously, she wanted to be taken seriously for the job she was doing. But at the same time...she was dressing up for male attention. It was just, again, for a very specific male.
So, over the course of the past week, when Fred from communications or Antonio from Sales started showing up at her desk at all times of the day for the most obvious of excuses—do you want any coffee when I step out for five seconds? Do you like bagels? There’s a bagel place just twenty minutes up the road from where I get lunch, and I don't mind getting you one—well, when that nonsense happened, Sophia noticed.
None of that was happening today, however. The second she walked into the office, Everyone was frantic—making calls, tossing files from one desk to another, holding up worn-out pieces of papers in their hands and waving them like flags.
Julie, lost in a sea of phone calls, saw Sophia and of course her outfit, and gave her a slightly bemused look. Sophia didn’t think she was getting anything past Julie. There was a lady who had been around the block too many times to have anything put past her.
But, Sophia didn’t really care.
She wanted Sand—and today, she was sure he would come to her and hold her down just how she wanted.
Curiously, he wasn’t in his office when she went to drop off his coffee. Not having encountered this before, she had to double-check the packet stashed in her work bag to find out the proper procedure—leave the coffee there, and wait for him to return. Make sure it stayed hot.
To busy herself, she stayed on top of the mass of paperwork that had accumulated already—even though it was before seven in the morning.
Eight o’clock swung around and Sand still hadn’t shown.
Julie walked over to her then, temporarily relieved, it seemed, from the swamp of phone calls.
&
nbsp; “Mr. Sand won’t be in today,” said Julie. “He’s had a sudden spat of meetings with politicians around town. There was a fire at one of his factories. That's why everyone is so frantic.”
“Oh, god.” Sophia put a hand to her mouth. “Why didn’t he call me?”
“Because he called me. You’re very good, dear. And very...” Julie looked her up and down. “...very dedicated. But I know the people to call in this sort of situation. You don’t, yet. But don’t worry, I’ll walk you through what I did later. All right?”
Sophia nodded.
The rest of the day, her mind was in a funk. All of this build, all of this desire, so ready to burst out from her—now completely unresolved. She found herself looking at the same account transfer report for over an hour, reading it six times without taking in any of the information.
Outside, it started to rain—and then it started to pour.
Oh good, thought Sophia. I needed a metaphor to really complete this day.
By around three, she resolved to push herself out of the bad mood. She buried herself in work, wanting to make sure that when Sand came back on Monday, there would be nothing hanging over his head that he couldn’t handle.
She could, at least, still be a good employee, even if she would rather be a good slave.
Thinking that way, the work past quickly. The midnight tresses of her long hair kissed the desk as she hunched over for hours without getting up. After it got in the way one too many times, she put it up in an impromptu bun, little strands still dangling around her sharp cheekbones.
Continuing her work, her brain narrowed. Noises from the outside faded in and out without really touching her brain.
“Leaving, dear?”
“What?”
A bit startled, Sophia looked up from her desk. Julie was looking down at her.
“It’s past seven, dear.”
“Oh.” Sophia shook her head slightly, rubbing her eyes.
Outside, the sun had gone down. Everyone had left.
“Oh, my. Okay. Yes. Sorry. I’ll be on my way.”
Julie flashed her a bright smile. “Want any company?”
“No...no, that’s all right,” said Sophia. “I’ll be along shortly.”
For several more minutes, she lost herself in work. When she heard shuffling from across the office, she thought it was Julie again, and started to prepare herself to leave, a bit embarrassed at having been caught doing so much work still.
But it wasn’t Julie at all.
It was him. It was Sand. His tight, handsome form was framed by a dark tan trench coat which he was carefully peeling off—completely drenched from the rain outside. Underneath, he looked as sharp and distinguished as ever. His face, though, was haggard and tired, with a day’s build-up of blond beardy growth.
“Oh good, you’re here,” he said, carefully handing her his dripping coat as she stood up to greet him. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had. Brinker and Boyd are going nuts out there.”
She emoted as much as she could. “I’m so sorry to hear it.”
“I just came to drop off some paperwork and maybe knock out an hour or two of work.” He stopped, stroking his head. “You can go home, of course. You’re here late already, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir. I thought that, with you unable to be here today, I would take care of some extra duties so that your load would be slightly lighter when you came back.”
“Ah, good. Good work.”
He gave her a curt little nod. Her entire body swelled with pride from the slight praise—and her breasts swelled forward, nearly spilling out of her tiny dress.
Without a doubt, he noticed that. “Do you have a...” he trailed off, watching her fingers as she dangled with her tight necklace.
For a few seconds, the only interaction they shared was through her expansive bust—her showing off and him taking it in. Her green eyes glittered with lust, letting him know that she knew he was looking, and she wanted him to do it more.
He coughed, finally. “Do you have time to make me a cup of coffee before you leave?”
“Of course, Sir. I’m so happy to do that for you.”
For the first time, he seemed to notice the eagerness in her voice. Her heart thumped as he looked her over once more, very slowly. She straightened her back and pushed back a stray strand of glossy dark hair, allowing him to get a better look. Smiling small, he stepped into his office.
In a few minutes, she had followed him into his office with his coffee in hand. Trying to make her strut as obvious as possible, her green eyes fixated on his position. She placed one foot right in front of the other—deliberate and hot. She had been watching models on runways for reference. He watched her the entire time as she approached, appearing to enjoy the show. His eyes devoured her form.
Bending over at the waist, she delivered his coffee in what had become her usual way, with her breasts on full display. The bronzed roundness of them so incredibly advertised by the tight, clingy fabric of her dress.
“Here you are, Sir.” She made love to the word as it slipped out from her mouth again.
He tilted his head. “You’re wearing...violet.”
“Yes, Sir. I thought it was a color that complimented me well. I thought it looked...rather proper.”
He leaned back in his chair. “It does. You look...very good, girl.”
Her breath was hot, shuddery. A low, needy whimper filled her throat—she struggled to keep in her—and failed. God, she wanted to drop to her knees so bad! He was so strong, so in control. She wanted to give up all of herself to him. Everything that she was, right under his thumb.
And his wording, fuck. The closeness there of “good” and “girl”...so very close to calling her what she burned to be called.
He seemed happy to wait, though. Watching her. Drinking in her beautiful, dolled-up image.
“Thank you, Sir.” She breathed at last, her tits expanding as she stood back up. “I-I will...I will go and take care of the rest of the work for Monday.”
Trembling, she began to strut back to the door of the office.
“Stop,” he said.
She stopped, obedient as ever. It gave her such a thrill to do what he said.
“Turn around.”
She did, her heartbeat increasing. The specificity of the order—that he told her nothing more than to turn around—was cause for another thrill. On top of that was the thrill of the question—had he figured it out?
“Approach me.”
She began to walk forward.
“Not like that. Strut, like you were.”
Her mouth moved for a moment as the surprised flooded over her. Oh god. Oh god, was this really happening?
She did as he ordered, strutting toward him with one foot deliberately placed in front of the other, her hips swaying seductively.
When she was halfway there, he held up his hand again. “Strike a pose.”
She put her leg out, jutting her hips to showcase her ass, so perfectly visible behind the thin layer of her skirt.
“Let your hair down.”
Obediently again, she removed the pin from her hair. It fell down in waves, framing her face. She shook it out sexily, staring down heat on him with her emerald eyes.
“You need to be saying ‘Yes Sir,’ when I give you a command, girl.”
“Yes Sir,” she said weakly, her throat so dry.
“What was that?” His handsome face, so stern and unforgiving, began to form the fraction of a frown.
“Yes Sir,” she said, louder. “You’re right, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
He shifted, leaning forward in his chair. “Get on your knees.”
“Yes, Sir,” she moaned, quickly obeying. She stared up at him, holding her arms up underneath her big tits in teensy, tiny dress.
Sophia was gleefully aware of how little fabric there was between her dripping-wet pussy and his hands. His cock.
He beckoned with two fingers. “Crawl toward me.”
&
nbsp; “Yes, Sir.”
Doing exactly as ordered, she crawled toward him, moving around his enormous desk.
“Present yourself.”
She sat back up on her knees, slipping off her sweater. Her hot club dress was his to see now. She liked that—it was his anyway. The fabric had ridden up her thighs, and it was a scant few millimeters before she was displaying her pussy to him. She bit her plush lower lip, admiring with pleasure the square line of his jaw, the bulging muscles of his chest and arms.
“Anything you say, Sir. I...must obey.”
“Oh...” he leaned back, an air of surprise around his face. “Is that so?”
“I must dress hot. I must love domestication. I must obey.”
A smile slipped up over his face.
“You know, I had my suspicions...and I’m glad they were correct. You want to be my sub, is that right? My sub vixen?”
Feeling naughty, Sophia felt a little presentation was in order. She made her voice hot and breathy and soft. “It is hardly a choice. You’re sooo strong, Sir. I’m just a weak, hot mess of a girl. I must dress hot. I must obey,” she repeated.
“Come here,” he beckoned her.
His handsome, dark eyes stared down at her while she pushed his legs apart. Strong fingers slid under her chin and then around her jaw, pushing down to her slender neck, and led her lips up to his.
And finally, they kissed.
Her lips, on his, pushing into his. His grip tightened around her hair, craning her head back. Strong legs closed around her form, trapping her body beneath his completely. His tongue slipped into her mouth and Sophia’s pussy exploded with hot, wet need. She needed him inside of her so fucking bad.
His tongue pushed against hers and then curled up behind her teeth, pulling her in even more. Soft and sweet, her hands pushed up his thighs and found his growing bulge. Her moan echoed inside of their sweltering hot kiss.
He was huge. He was fucking huge. Sophia needed that cock in her right away. Moaning in his mouth, desperate, she half-tugged, half-rubbed it through the fabric of his expensive pants.
But then, Sand pulled away. Sophia, breathless, stared up at him with desperate need, pushing back up to kiss him once more, her tits pressed hard against on leg.
In Service To The Billionaire Page 6
