by Roz Lee
“You like that, slut?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Kayla delved deeper, this time spearing a finger between her lips, seeking out her clit. The tiny mewling sounds she made and the way she tried and failed to keep her hips still was the sweetest of aphrodisiacs. If she had a shred of decency left in her, she would stop right now, help the woman back into her clothes and find another way to keep her calm, like teaching her how to play Candy Crush or something. But that ship had sailed long ago. She didn’t give a damn if the entire New York City Fire Department found her with her licking her boss’s honey pot. Nicole/Nikki Halstead was going to come apart for her. Right here. Right now.
She jerked her hand free. “On your knees, bitch.” Instructing her to keep her fingers laced together, but to move them from the back of her head to use them as a pillow for her forehead, she helped her into the new position. Along the way, she removed the woman’s thong. Not that it was much of a barrier, but she wanted nothing to interfere with her access to what she knew was going to be the sweetest pussy she’d ever tasted.
Illumination from the LED on her phone cast everything in a silvery blue light that didn’t penetrate the shadows between Nikki’s legs. Kayla silently cursed her misfortune at not being able to discern the actual colors, but her disappointment gave way to pure lust the moment she got close enough to inhale the woman’s scent. No bouquet of flowers could smell as sweet or look as enticing as her heart-shaped ass in the air, rocking forward then back, begging for attention.
She’d always been a sucker for a garter belt. Satin, lace and straps, framing both pussy and ass? What was not to like about that. Kayla traced the line of one garter stretched taut over Nikki’s ass to the back of her thigh where it gripped the top of a silk stocking. She slipped her finger beneath the elastic, stroking the skin beneath. Giving it a tug, she let it slip from her finger. It landed with a snap against the flesh. Nikki jumped and whimpered at the contact.
Ahh, the woman could take a little pain. Even better.
Kayla soothed the tiny hurt away with the palm of her hand. If they weren’t enclosed in a death capsule with an unknown amount of time before they were rescued or died of dehydration, she’d turn Nicole’s ass red. But that was for another time. She couldn’t wait another second to taste that pussy.
Kayla lay on her back and scooted between the woman’s legs until she was looking up at Nikki’s cleft. “Give me your pussy, slut.” Placing her hands on the woman’s hips, she guided her down until she could flick her tongue over her clit. Tilting her chin, she closed her mouth over Nikki’s lips.
The first swipe of her tongue, the first hint of her unique flavor on her taste buds sent Kayla’s head spinning. She tightened her grip on Nikki’s hips and lifted herself off the floor for a better taste. She couldn’t get enough. One taste led to another, which led to another. Above her, Nikki rocked and ground her hips, seeking the release she needed, but Kayla wasn’t ready to let her have it. Once her boss came, she’d have no more excuse for having her face between her legs, and that wasn’t acceptable.
When Nikki resorted to begging, her cries sounding desperate and coherent, not at all like the frightened woman who’d been tearing at her clothes a few minutes earlier, Kayla gave in. She stopped long enough to nuzzle Nikki’s inner thighs and to nip at the soft flesh there, before issuing her final order. “Come for me, slut baby.”
She pressed her face to the woman’s pussy, teased her clit a few times with the tip of her tongue before thrusting it as deep into her honey hole. Nikki came with a shudder and a wail that reverberated off the paneled walls. Kayla held on tight, lapping up every drop of cum like she’d found a fountain after wandering in the desert for days.
Taste the forbidden fruit.
“Nikki.” The name tumbled from her assistants lips, reached deep down in her soul and touched a part of her she kept hidden from the world. There was no rest for Nicole, but Nikki lived in a different world. One where her only decision was to decide not to make any decisions. Nikki lived in a world where pleasure was guaranteed, and where her needs were reduced to their most basic terms. Rules were to be obeyed, yet they were not her rules, but those of her Domme.
Kayla was the most capable and trustworthy person she knew. She knew Nicole’s every move, anticipating her needs and fulfilling them before she knew them herself. No one dared defy the woman. When Kayla spoke, everyone in the office listened—and obeyed. It felt right to hand over her most valued secret to her. Hadn’t she known, deep down, her assistant’s managerial qualities were Domme-like? Perhaps that was why she’d hired her in the first place.
Every day was a struggle to maintain the persona the world expected to see. If anyone in her professional life knew how she longed to hand over the reins to another, to follow instead of lead, she’d be done in the financial world. Nicole commanded esteem, unlike Nikki who craved submission. The two couldn’t co-exist on the same planet.
Nikki was a hedonistic slut who would do anything for her next orgasm. Nikki craved humiliation and recently had begun to see the benefit of pain in measured doses.
Each article of clothing shed took a piece of her fear with it until all that was left was peace in the knowledge that whatever happened to her now was out of her hands.
The Domme’s at Saphros rarely touched her except to mete out pleasure or pain. Kayla’s touch was a revelation—an exploration, as if she wanted to learn everything there was to know about Nikki’s body. It was everything she could do to allow the liberty, but the woman’s capable fingers on her skin felt like nothing, yet they were everything.
The hard tile was hell on her knees, but she’d felt worse. At least it was clear of debris. Sand or a stray pebble gouging at flesh she kept soft with daily skin treatments made it that much more difficult to remain detached from the real world. The need to be somewhere else, to be someone else was as real as the fear gripping her insides.
Forehead pressed to the back of her hands linked on the floor, Nikki spread her knees wide. She couldn’t remember being in a more vulnerable position—the very core of her exposed to the one person capable of destroying her completely. A shiver of anticipation ran along her spine. The sensitive tissues between her legs tingled with the need to be fucked. Arousal pulsed through her. She rocked forward then back, a move sure to earn her a punishment for topping from the bottom.
When Kayla touched her, tracing the line of her garter, it was all Nikki could do to keep from begging her for more. The delicious snap of elastic against her upper thigh stung. She couldn’t stop the whimper that passed her lips. As pain went, it wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind her she wasn’t in charge. Kayla would do what she wanted. It was only for Nikki to accept.
Nikki closed her eyes and concentrated on being the best sub possible. Good subs were rewarded for their behavior, and oh, how she wanted, needed to be rewarded. She felt soft hair brush her inner thighs, then firm hands gripped her hips and tugged. Heat brushed across her labia—a course command to submit—then pure ecstasy registered across every nerve ending as Kayla fused her mouth to her pussy.
Her tongue was wicked, her teeth sharp and demanding as she ate at Nikki’s pussy. Without pause, she switched from an all-out assault to gentle loving then back again, driving her to the brink then backing off seconds before letting her tumble over the edge. It was maddening. Painful, yet Nikki had never known such pleasure. She never wanted it to end, but knew if she weren’t allowed to come soon, she was going to go insane.
“Please,” she begged. “Oh, god, please, Mistress.” She repeated the plea over and again, grinding her pussy against the Domme’s face. She’d pay for her insubordination later, but she’d pay whatever price in order to come.
Suddenly, the exquisite torture stopped. Nikki swallowed a broken sob, afraid her assistant had been playing with her, that she had no intention of letting her come. It was a tactic some Domme’s used to keep their subs in line. Nikki had never been a fan of
the practice. She opened her mouth to say so—protocol be damned—when sharp teeth nipped at her thigh. The pain, followed by the command she’d been desperately waiting for, nearly catapulted her over the edge.
Kayla’s tongue flicked at her clit then drove inside her. Nikki came with a shudder, her scream reverberating off the walls of their cubicle.
Kayla lapped up the last of her boss’s orgasm. The sound of labored breathing filled the silent car. The air hung heavy with the scent of sex. She’d fucked up, royally. The minute Nicole came to her senses, she’d fire her ass. The term personal in Personal Assistant, didn’t include eating your boss’s pussy.
She might have just made the biggest mistake of her life, but lying there, staring up at Nicole’s shadowed folds, she knew if the circumstances were repeated, she’d do it all over again. Hell, she’d do it again for no other reason than to hear Nicole come apart.
Nicole Halstead had an uncanny ability to recognize weaknesses in companies, and people. And, she had no qualms whatsoever about taking advantage of those weaknesses.
Kayla admired the woman’s business acumen, and frankly, the power she wielded was a turn-on.
Nicole was gorgeous from the tips of her fuck-me stilettos to the tight bun of auburn locks on the crown of her head. It was the heels, along with her commanding posture that made her seem like a giant. Nicole wore her confidence like she wore her designer wardrobe—without apology.
And why should she apologize? There was nothing wrong with a woman being successful. She’d earned her success. The story went that she’d worked and saved every penny she could while attending college on an athletic scholarship. After graduation, she moved to Manhattan with a small bank account, a suitcase and a laptop computer. She lived in homeless shelters, invested her money on Wall Street and eventually bought an underperforming restaurant. She fired the entire staff, hired a new chef fresh out of the military and staffed the place with veterans. A decade later, Red, White and Brew was still lauded as one of the best eateries in the city. Its success had vaulted Nicole onto the restaurant scene and spawned a nationwide chain of extremely profitable microbreweries. From there, she’d expanded into premium steakhouses and was now on the verge of opening a resort in the Florida Keyes for the elitist of the elite set. Everything the woman touched turned to gold.
And she was a submissive.
Kayla was still having trouble wrapping her head around that bit of information, though the evidence quivered mere inches from her face. Nicole Halstead. On her knees. Wouldn’t the financial world want to see that? Never mind probably half the men she sparred with in boardrooms employed Domme’s to help them get their rocks off, being a female submissive would be seen as a sign of weakness. They’d chew her up and spit her out in a heartbeat.
Though she was loath to move, it wouldn’t do for them to be discovered in their present position. She’d do what she could to protect Nicole, even if there was nothing she could do to protect herself.
The moment she’d realized her boss’s submissive nature she’d known two things. She was hopelessly in love with the woman, and she was out of a job. There was nothing she could do about either, but the Domme in her felt the need to shield Nicole from discovery.
She allowed herself the luxury of touching her one more time, running her hands over her hips, around the back of her thighs and back up to caress her ass. The memory of tonight would have to last her a lifetime. Easing her hands back to her hips, she inhaled deeply, committing her intoxicating scent to memory. “Sit up on your knees, Nikki.”
A low groan brought a smile to her lips. Nikki wasn’t ready to move either, but they had no choice. It might be hours before someone came for them, or it could be minutes. There was no way to tell. They’d already risked too much. She had to get her boss dressed. Now that she had her attention, keeping her calm shouldn’t be too difficult.
As Nicole rose, Kayla scooted out from under her and stood. She didn’t know how much battery life remained on her phone, so she drank in the sight of her boss while she could. Another memory she’d carry with her forever. She’d never find another like Nicole Halstead—tiger by day, kitten by night.
“You were magnificent, Nikki, but it’s time to get dressed.”
Breaking protocol, the woman glanced up at her. She was glad to see the fear was gone, but in its place, something else lurked. Sadness? What did Nikki have to be sad about? She’s the one who’d had an orgasm powerful enough to shake the car loose from its moorings. This was only an appetizer for Nikki. Soon, she’d board a plane for one of the most exclusive lesbian-only resorts in the world. It was Kayla who would be going home horny.
She taken the job as Nicole’s personal assistant a year ago when finding employment in the publishing world had proved to be impossible. Having been downsized right out of her last position as a managing editor, it was either set her sights lower or move out of the city. Since she had no desire to live in New Jersey, a lower profile job it was. The pay, though not what she was used to, allowed her to rent a few square feet of living space west of Broadway and south of Times Square.
It wasn’t ideal, but it had a Manhattan address. She could live with the smells from the tandoori place on the corner until she found a better job. Then she’d move back uptown. But, for now, she was stuck with what she had.
She hadn’t had a social life to speak of since she’d lost her other, more lucrative job. Her sub at the time, Ellen, had asked to be released from their play contract, and Kayla had agreed. She’d been too wrapped up in reinventing herself to properly attend to her subs needs, and Ellen hadn’t been interested in moving to a less prestigious address. Their relationship had run its course. Until now, she hadn’t felt the loss, but faced with spending the remainder of the holiday weekend alone—knowing Nicole would be someone else’s plaything—she felt more alone than ever.
She could go to a club. There were plenty to choose from in the city. No doubt she’d find another lonely soul there who’d want to play. But, as she watched Nicole step into her skirt, sans panties, she knew the club scene was no longer hers. Maybe in a few years, when the memories she’d stored away had faded. If that thought wasn’t depressing enough, Nicole slipped her arms into the sleeves of her blouse.
“Leave it,” Kayla said. Nicole—Nikki looked up. Their gazes met and locked. “It’s too hot in here. Leave it open. There will be time for that.”
Her boss didn’t look convinced, but enough of Nikki remained to override her more conservative self’s concerns. She nodded, her gaze slipped to the floor, her hands dropped to her sides.
Unable to stop herself, Kayla stepped forward and slipped her hands around Nicole’s waist beneath the feather-light silk of her blouse. She brushed her thumbs over skin so soft it made her mouth water. Moving her hands upward, she slipped a finger beneath the band of her lace cupped bra. Nikki moaned. Her head fell back, leaving her neck vulnerable. What Kayla wouldn’t give to wrap her hands around that slim column, to stroke, feel Nikki’s pulse ratchet as she applied pressure, testing the boundaries of her trust. Afterward, she’d band her neck in leather—something wide and thick with rings for securing her. Then she’d take her time exploring every inch of her delectable body.
“Let me see you. Push your bra up for me.”
Nikki’s hands shook, but she did as she was told. Her lush breasts sprang free, her rosebud nipples hard and begging for the attention Kayla was dying to give them. It was all she could do to keep her hands and mouth off of them. “Play with them, slut. Pinch your nipples. Show me what you like.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
It was the first time she’d acknowledged the exchange of power, and that deserved to be rewarded, however, time wasn’t on her side. She had no idea which would come to an end first, the battery on her phone or the black out. Either way, she needed to make the most of the time they had. “It’s Lady Kay, Nikki. Say my name so I know you understand who owns you.”
“Lady Kay.”
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Many people had called her by her Domme name, but it had never affected her the way hearing it from her boss’s lips did. Nicole’s submission was like no other. Few women were as powerful as the one before her now, tweaking her own nipples, pinching, tugging and rolling them until even in the dim light, Kayla noticed the change in color from light to dark. She’d give anything for a set of clamps. “It’s a shame I don’t have my toys with me. I’d clamp your tits, attach a chain between them and use it as a leash to lead you around the office. Let everyone see what a slut you are.”
Nikki moaned and tugged harder at both buds. A lightning bolt of pure lust shot through Kayla. If Nikki was truly hers, she’d make good on that promise someday. Maybe staff the place afterhours with people she knew—friends who would understand. Have them act as employees then she’d strip Nikki bare except for tit clamps, and maybe a collar, and parade her around the office.
Kayla shook off the fantasy. All she had was right now. Thinking about a future with this woman was a waste of precious time.
“Permission to speak, Lady Kay?”
Kayla couldn’t have been more surprised by the request if it had come from the Queen of England. “Permission to speak freely. What is it, Nikki?”
“Please, Lady Kay. I have clamps in my purse.”
Holy shit! She glanced around, saw the abandoned handbag near the door. “Do you want me to use them on you, Nikki?”
“Yes, please, Lady Kay. I need….”
Kayla studied her boss’s face. She was in the moment, but just barely. Their predicament hovered over her, an oppressive weight she needed to escape. “Give me a moment. Continue, Nikki. I want those nipples ready by the time I find the clamps.”
“Yes, Lady Kay.”
Fuck, her boss’s purse was a revelation. Kayla sorted through the various toys Nicole had packed for her trip to Saphros, eventually coming up with a set of alligator style clamps with dangling jewels and a connecting chain. The woman had good taste. She couldn’t have selected a better set herself—if she’d had unlimited funds. It was difficult to tell given the light situation, but she’d bet her last paycheck the gems were real and the chains some precious metal.
