by Sky Corgan
After Xan’s driver helps me load the groceries into the trunk of the car, and I crawl back into the passenger seat, I inform him that we need to make one more stop.
“Mister Sanderlin didn’t say anything about an additional stop.” He raises a bushy eyebrow at me, sounding like a mobster.
“We need to stop by a gas station,” I inform him.
“What for?”
“I need you to take this card and go buy condoms.” I pull Xan’s credit card from my purse and hand it to him.
“Why didn’t you get them from the grocery store?” He glances back at the store. We’ve just pulled out of the parking lot, and I’m crossing my fingers silently praying that he doesn’t pull back in and make me get them myself.
“I forgot.” I shrug nonchalantly.
“Yeah. You forgot.” He eyes me suspiciously, obviously not falling for the lie.
When we pull up to the gas station, and he kills the engine, he twists in his seat to face me. His jutting brow makes him look like an ogre. “Listen, princess. If you’re going to be working for Mister Sanderlin, you need to get used to picking up his rubbers. Go get em’ yourself.” He tosses the card at me.
I fumble as I try to catch the credit card and it falls to the floor. My heart drops with it. This is exactly what I feared would happen, but at least I’m less likely to be recognized here; not that many people would recognize me.
I inhale deeply and go inside, realizing that I just need to suck this up. Hopefully, Xan doesn’t blow through condoms like they’re going out of style. Just in case, though, I should probably get a lot of them so that I don’t have to buy them again for a while.
Too embarrassed to ask for them myself, I take the shopping list up to the register and point to what I need. The cashier gives me a queer look before glancing at the store’s selection of condoms, then back to me. “We don’t carry that brand here.”
I groan audibly, feeling completely defeated by this condom beast. When I get back into the car empty-handed, I practically slam the door behind me, immediately folding my arms over my chest to show the driver that I’m not in a mood to be messed with.
“Where are the condoms?” he asks the obvious question.
“Just drive.”
“But—”
“I forgot them, okay,” I tell him before he has a chance to make me feel more useless than I already do. This shouldn’t have been as difficult as I made it. All I had to do was go into the condom aisle of the grocery store, grab the box, and then this wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t see anyone I knew at the grocery store. It was fine. But no. I messed this up because I was embarrassed, and now Xan is going to be disappointed in me. Or worse. Will he fire me? I’m starting to think I don’t really care anymore. This is becoming too much.
We return to the mansion, and Xan’s driver turns useless again as I’m forced to unload the groceries all by myself. I’m not really sure why it matters—why I had expected him to be a gentleman. There are no gentlemen here. That is 100% clear to me.
I decide to avoid Xan until after I finish making dinner. The idea of cooking in the skimpy outfit he picked out for me isn’t exactly appealing, nor is it particularly safe. There’s always the threat of spills and grease burns in the kitchen.
The meal he has me prepare is long and laborious. I’m used to making simple dishes for my mother and our roommates. Most of the time, it’s whatever we have in the pantry mixed together with some type of protein. We tend to eat a lot of soups and stews because that’s what’s easiest to make and it goes a long way.
Now I’m cooking a gourmet meal for a man who probably won’t even appreciate it. Just like he doesn’t appreciate the way I look in the lingerie.
As I wait for the beef to bake, I think about how quiet the mansion is. It’s almost eerily silent. Xan is probably still in his office, but I can’t hear him at all. He played music when we were working together, but the sound hasn’t made it downstairs. Is it always like this when he’s alone? There’s so much space and nothing to fill it. It’s kind of sad.
I let my mind wander to what my mother might be doing. Is Ruby with her right now playing the word games that I usually play with her to help stimulate her mind? It’s strange that I haven’t even been gone for a full day yet and I already miss them horribly. This is the first time I’ve ever really been away from my mother, though. The homesickness will likely only get worse. It’s yet another thing I’m not sure I can handle.
I stare at the marble countertop in front of me, allowing my thoughts and worries to carry me away to another place. I’m so distracted that I don’t even notice I’m overdue to take the beef out of the oven. By the time I realize I forgot to set the oven timer, it’s already overcooked.
“Oh darn,” I exhale a stressed out breath, rushing to pull the meat from the oven. I just keep messing up today. Surely this is a sign from God that this isn’t right—that I don’t belong here. There’s little doubt in my mind that Xan will fire me before the day is up.
I finish preparing the meal to the best of my ability before going upstairs to change into my slutty lingerie and then heading to Xan’s office to announce that dinner is ready.
I cringe internally as I watch him take the first bite. Much like with the lingerie, he says nothing. This time, though, it’s a relief. I was expecting to be chastised for my lack of cooking skills.
We eat in silence, and again I’m reminded of how lonely this place is—of how lonely he must feel. Even on the rare days where I’ve felt claustrophobic living in a small cramped apartment with three other women, there’s always been a warmth to it. It’s always felt like home. Xan’s mansion is just...cold. Brick and mortar and glass and marble. Vast and empty, echoing of memories of a family gone and moved on with their lives. Apart.
Maybe me being here will make him feel less alone. I hope it does. Perhaps that’s half of the reason why I’m here.
Trying to figure out Xander Sanderlin is fascinating in its own right. I try not to stare at him too curiously while he eats. Like a crystal, there are many facets to him. There’s the professional businessman, the kind teacher, and then the jagged edges when he’s threatening my job or talking dirty to me. Just thinking about his eyes when he turns sexual makes me squirm in my seat with unsettling yearnings.
We finish dinner, and Xan tells me to meet him in his private theater once I’m done with the dishes. I obediently take our plates to the kitchen, wondering what he has planned for me next. The thought that he might have assembled a training video goes through my mind, but I quickly brush it away. There’s no professional training video for the job that he has me doing. At least, I don’t imagine there would be. Not unless he had it custom made. And what he’s had me do so far... No, it’s definitely not going to be a training video. With that decided, I mull over whatever he’s going to force me to watch. No doubt, it will be something that tests my boundaries. Probably an action movie with lots of filthy language and sex scenes. Or maybe a horror movie that will make me cling to my religion in the hopes of keeping nightmares at bay.
Once I’ve finished washing the dishes, I ascend the staircase and find the theater. It’s not a particularly large room. There are only three rows of chairs that seat four people per row. They’re more like plush recliners than movie theater seating, with plenty of room to lounge and stretch out. Against the back wall is an old-time popcorn maker, though it looks like it’s more for decoration than practical use. The walls are lined with the traditional velvet curtains that are at most theaters. I remember them from the one time that Dorothy sneaked me out to see a movie shortly after Mother and I moved in with her and Ruby. It was supposed to be a bonding exercise. I hadn’t wanted to go, but she had convinced me that seeing a movie in a theater was something I should do at least once in my life. It was fun experiencing the movie with everyone else in the theater—seeing the people around me react to the emotion invoking parts in tandem. And while I appreciated her taking me, I quickly decided it wasn’t
something I needed to do again. As it is, I only watch television in passing when Ruby and Dorothy are in the living room of our apartment. I feel there are more productive things I could be doing with my time.
I try to blink away the brief nostalgia I feel from being in the theater. Xan is seated in the center of the middle row. Seeing him in the room alone makes it seem larger somehow. It also reminds me of the loneliness I was feeling for him earlier.
“Are you ready?” he asks with a smile.
I clasp my hands in front of me and nod, walking over to him. “What are we going to watch?”
“Something I think you’ll rather enjoy.” There’s a flash of darkness in his eyes, and I instantly get the feeling that he means the opposite of what he says.
I lower myself to sit beside him, but Xan grabs my hips, redirecting me and pulling me down. I stumble and lose my balance, clutching onto his bare shoulders before I fall onto his lap. I cringe, muttering an apology as I try to get back up. He won’t allow it. His hands circle my waist, keeping me in place.
“This is where you’ll sit tonight,” he tells me in that sexy voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle.
I let my hands fall to my lap. This is entirely inappropriate, but if it’s what he wants, then I can’t argue.
I watch as he reaches for a remote sitting next to him and clicks a button on it to illuminate the screen and start the movie. The opening scene plays out like a kidnapping. There’s a woman hogtied on a coffee table with a gag in her mouth. A man in a suit walks around to sit on the sofa behind her. He throws some files onto the couch and then opens up his laptop to work, ignoring the woman.
The camera focuses on the woman’s face. She looks more frustrated than frightened, whining and writhing on the table. The man continues to work for several more minutes as if she’s not even there. There’s no background music, just the sound of the woman whining. I’m expecting the man to become annoyed with her and get violent. In a hostage situation, I imagine that’s what would typically happen. The scene makes me uncomfortable, and I’m waiting for an explanation about what’s going on, some narrative or music or anything.
The man finally sets his laptop aside and stands to approach the woman. Affectionately, he pets her hair and caresses her face. When I see the wanton look in her eyes, it clicks in my head what type of movie this is. It’s not a movie at all. It’s a porno.
My heart catches in my chest as discomfort snakes through my intestines. As if feeling my uneasiness and wanting to add to it, something starts to move beneath my lap. Not move...but grow.
My cheeks flush with color as I realize that Xan is getting an erection. I glance up at him for a split second, and his eyes lock with mine. There’s hunger in his expression—the kind that revs up everything within me that should stay dormant until I’m married. I quickly avert my gaze, returning my attention to the screen. The man calls the woman his wife, which only makes me feel an iota better about what’s about to take place between them. I know it’s all fantasy, but thinking that the couple is married will make this easier...if I can even get through it.
He stands beside her to check her bondage, and every time her eyes land on him it’s with pure lust. She’s in the most uncomfortable position, her arms and legs tied behind her, her mouth stretched open, yet she’s enjoying every bit of it. It’s strange to me, to think of such a thing as enjoyable. I know that there are some weird fetishes out there, though.
The man lifts his wife’s dress, revealing white panties that are only slightly less modest than what I have on. I wonder how long I’ll be able to watch before I have to turn away. This act between them is so sacred, yet they recorded it for everyone to watch. These videos are meant for perverts. I am not a pervert, but apparently, my boss is.
The camera zooms in on the woman’s parted legs. The man begins to rub between them, sliding his hands back and forth between her thighs and down the length of her slit. My body reacts unbidden, a pulse of electricity assaulting my clit as I imagine what she must be feeling. As if responding, I feel Xan grow even harder beneath me. He’s angled so that his cock is flush with my pussy. The pressure against my folds causes the pulse to happen a second time. I feel strange on the inside, like my resolve to be good is breaking off in chunks and falling away. I’m enjoying the heat between our parts almost as much as I’m thankful for the clothing between us. I can picture us both naked, though, and I wonder what his thick veiny dick would feel like slid between my folds. I’m shamefully aroused by the video, and it hasn’t even gotten intense yet.
The man teasingly tugs at the woman’s underwear for a bit. Then he takes a pair of scissors and cuts them away. The sheer vulnerability of the situation turns me on—that she has no power against him. I don’t understand why I’m enjoying this. Worse, why I’m starting to fantasize about my boss doing the same thing to me.
I shy away when the woman’s pussy is exposed, shifting my weight on Xan’s lap. His cock twitches in response, and heat shoots through me. It’s so incredibly crude but sexy at the same time. Again I think about how I want to see his cock. How I...
I chew my bottom lip, hating myself for thinking it. The thought was definitely there, though. I want him inside of me. Want to feel what it would be like for him to claim me.
No doubt, hundreds of women have thought the same thing about Xan before. I’ve always managed to see him as nothing but my boss. Until today. Today changed everything. Now I’m no better than the rest, wanting the same depraved things. It feels like I’m falling from grace and there’s no one to catch me. Somehow, I need to make all of these feelings stop. I need to keep things professional. But it’s so difficult when I’m nearly naked sitting on my boss’ lap watching a porno.
The man unties his wife’s legs only to flip her onto her back and bind her thighs open. Watching him work the rope is a brief distraction from the overall perversion of the video. I wonder if Xan is into this type of stuff—tying women up. He has to be if this is what he picked for us to watch. Will he eventually do this to me? Tie me up and render me powerless? And then will I feel less guilt if he touches me? The idea is certainly appealing.
The man meticulously cuts the woman’s dress off, and I scowl at the waste. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much. Probably because I can barely afford the clothes on my back. And it makes me think of the shirt that Xan ruined earlier. Hopefully, if he fires me, I’ll get reimbursed for it, though that’s a lot to hope for.
As soon as the man has the woman naked, he runs his fingertips over her nipples. I can feel mine beading inside my camisole as my arousal makes its way upstairs. I glance down and am embarrassed to see the hard buds pressing through my top. Hopefully, Xan can’t tell.
As if noticing my distraction, he tightens his grip on me, pressing me down against his erection. It rubs against my panties, pushing my folds slightly open, and I moan just before gasping at the sound. When my eyes shoot up to see if Xan heard, he’s looking down at me with a smirk that’s so sexy it’s sinful.
“I told you that you would like the video.” He bucks up against me slightly, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from moaning again.
“I don’t.” I refuse to give him the satisfaction of the truth, wanting to add that I think it’s disgusting. I dare not chance upsetting him, though.
“You don’t, do you?” he muses. “I bet your panties are already getting wet. Should I check?”
“No!” I squeeze my thighs together, nearly falling off of his lap from the effort.
“No getting away from me,” he growls hungrily into my ear, sending a shiver through me that settles straight in my core. Never in a million years would I want to get away from him when he speaks to me like that. His voice demands my obedience. All of it. It drains my willpower. Drains my resolve. But it fills the desire inside of me like a well in a thunderstorm.
“Let’s just...keep watching,” I say breathily because I need a distraction. All my thoughts are of wanting thing
s I’ve never wanted before tonight—things that can’t happen.
“As you wish.” Xan nuzzles the shell of my ear with the bridge of his nose, and the affection swells my heart with a different kind of desire. I want him to be mine. It’s illogical, but I want more than boss and employee. I want everything that the world can’t and won’t give me—the fantasies of a greedy girl overstepping her bounds.
The man begins playing with his wife’s naked cunt, and she writhes up to meet his touch. He parts her folds, teasingly flicking his fingertip back and forth across her clit. She moans loudly, the expression on her face pure euphoric bliss.
“Get up for a moment.” Xan gives my hip a gentle slap.
A rush of relief comes over me as he allows me to slide off of his lap and onto the recliner next to him.
I keep my eyes glued to the screen as Xan reaches down to adjust himself, but I’m painfully aware of everything he’s doing. The sound of his zipper being pulled down dwarfs the moans of the woman on the screen. Within seconds, his gorgeous cock is exposed, and I can feel the uncomfortable wetness on my panties as I rub my thighs together. Have I ever been this wet before? I certainly don’t remember a time. If he asks me to get back on his lap again...
Of course, he does. And not so subtly either.
“Straddle me.” He squeezes my thigh, though his expression is void of the lust that was there earlier. It’s as if he’s asking me to do some menial task instead of telling me to put my wet cunt on his naked cock.
“You won’t be able to see the screen if I do.” I try to weasel my way out of having to sit on him without pissing him off.
“I’ll be able to see it just fine.” He shoots me a look of annoyance that snuffs out any further resistance.
As carefully as I can, I crawl on top of him.
“Not like that.” He stops me, the wickedness returning to his gaze. “Turn around. Face the screen. You want to watch the rest of the movie, don’t you?”
“I...” I stutter, though I’m not even sure what I was going to say.
