by JB Brooks
I stood up and smoothed down my skirt, feeling unreasonably apprehensive, then crossed to the door. On impulse I knocked softly.
“Come.”
To my surprise his notebook was on the table, but he was sitting behind the gleaming expanse of Stephen’s polished-oak desk, leaning back in the tall, padded chair.
He said nothing, watching intently as I traversed the wide expanse of carpet to stand before the desk.
“I’m finished, Matt. We can go now.”
He looked me up and down, raking his eyes over me with such deliberation that I flushed. Sexual anticipation hummed through my body. He examined my new hairstyle and I swallowed hard when his eyes took on that feral glitter that I knew so well. Then he finally spoke and he said the last thing that I ever expected.
“Jane, did you snoop in my study yesterday?”
I stammered for a moment but there was no point in denying it. He obviously knew.
“I’m sorry, Matt,” I whispered, a horrible hollow feeling spreading outward from my stomach, almost overpowering my burgeoning lust. “I just popped my head in for a moment.”
“But you didn’t just look, did you, Jane? You touched as well.”
“Just a fingertip to that shiny pad. I didn’t even know what it was! Come on, Matt, you can’t be cross about that?”
He frowned, the effect quite daunting over his gleaming eyes.
“It’s more that I’m…worried about you, Jane. You seem to find snooping quite irresistible. One day it’s going to get you into big trouble.”
It already has.
“I won’t do it again, Matt, I promise. I’m really sorry.”
“I’m sure you mean it now, Jane, but I’m not sure you’ll remember that promise when temptation comes your way. I think you need some help, something to remind you not to give in to the urge so easily.” His voice was thick. A trickle of uneasy excitement crept along my spine.
“What… What do you mean?”
“I mean, Jane, that some punishment is called for. Something that you will never forget.” He stood up.
“Matt, you’re… What…? Are you going to hit me?” My voice was high-pitched and I started backing to the door. I realized again how little I knew about him. He always seemed so controlled, but what if he were to really lose his temper?
“I would never, ever hit a woman, Jane.” There was something in his voice that utterly reassured me. On some deep level, I knew that he was stating one of his most basic values and relief washed over me. But he came round the desk and stalked after me as I retreated backward in the general direction of the door. He still looked intimidating. A sudden thought occurred to me.
“What about hitting like…like…spanking? Or whipping? Like kinky stuff…” My voice disappeared in a dry whisper. He took another step toward me.
“I might spank you, Jane, but only if you asked me nicely. It’s not my usual style.”
My back hit the door. Before I could open it he stepped close to me, pressing me into it with his heavy, muscular body. He placed his hands on my arms, just above the elbows, trapping them at my sides against the warm wood panels. My body responded to his proximity with a rush of wetness from my cunt. He dipped his head, not to kiss me as I was expecting, but to bury his face in my neck and inhale, smelling me like an animal. His scorching, wet mouth opened on the delicate skin just below my ear, and a moment later I felt his teeth as he sucked and nibbled his way over the exquisitely sensitive tendons of my neck. Just above the curve of my shoulder he increased the pressure and sucked sharply. Goose bumps raced across my skin at the intense pleasure, and I cried out and tipped my head to allow him better access. I felt so vulnerable as he leaned over me with his teeth in my neck, keenly aware of his greater size and strength. Then he released me, turned the key that was in the lock and pocketed it. I stared at his broad shoulders as he returned to his seat behind the desk.
“So if you’re not going to spank me, what are you going to do?” I blurted quite belligerently. Apprehension made me bold. I was utterly disconcerted by his manner and the way he’d locked us in together, but even more disturbing to me was the level of arousal that I was experiencing at the thought of him punishing me. I seemed to crave the dissolute things he did to me.
“I like the punishment to fit the crime,” he said slowly, “so I’m going to invade one of your private spaces.”
Holding my gaze, he reached into his jacket pocket and very deliberately withdrew something that he placed, precisely, in the center of the desk.
It was a butt plug. Black. In my opinion, quite large. A punishment.
“Take all your clothes off, Jane. Strip for me. If you do it well enough, I might go easier on you.”
He leaned back in the imposing chair, his hands resting lightly on the armrests, legs crossed ankle to knee, and looked at me with raised brows. Between us, the butt plug reared up from the desk. My anxious gaze flicked between it and his face. Another surge of wetness swamped my panties. The thought of what would be involved for him to seat that plug within me… Oh dear god!
He was waiting.
Thoughts raced through my mind. With effort, I focused on the immediate problem. He wanted to me strip for his entertainment and I had no idea how to make it good. There was no music, and even if there had been, I didn’t have the courage to dance around like a stripper while he sat in that chair, dressed in his suit, and watched me. Under his piercing gaze, I was acutely self-conscious about my every move.
So ignore him. Pretend he isn’t there.
Easier said than done.
But it can be done—just don’t look at him.
I turned my back to him and stretched my arms over my head, leaning to one side and then the other. It felt good after the last couple of hours hunched over my computer. I could do this if I pretended that I was alone. Sometimes when I undressed at home at the end of a long day, I would touch my body. And sometimes, when freeing myself from my work clothes felt really good, I would masturbate on my bed, the cool quilt cover brushing against my warm skin. I could do this.
Keeping my back to him, I unbuttoned my shirt. Although he couldn’t see, he knew what I was doing, and I felt no need to rush—a bit of anticipation would be good for him. A languorous, sensuous feeling swept over me as I slowly swept the silky fabric off my shoulders and down my arms. I let it drop to the floor.
I swept my hands lightly over my arms and shoulders, up my neck, down over my breasts, around my stomach. The sensation of touch on my skin—even if it was my own—was wonderful. The slightly cool waft of the air-conditioning brushed over me. I swung my head, loving the caress of my hair on my back, arching so it could reach as low as possible.
My skirt zipper was at the back. I released it slowly, knowing that he’d be watching as I inched it down. Then I worked the skirt over my hips, lowering it incrementally on each side as I wiggled. My French-cut panties bisected the cheeks of my ass, not as revealing as a thong but still leaving half of the rounded globes uncovered—enough to give him a bit of a view as I bent down to run the skirt down my legs instead of just letting it drop. I stepped out of it and left it on the floor next to my shirt.
I ran my hands over my ass cheeks, slipping my fingers under the edge of my panties, then reached up the center of my back to my bra clip. With a quick flick I released it and let the bra fall down my arms. Still keeping my back to Matt, I circled my palms over my nipples then pulled at them with my fingers until they were hard and elongated. I didn’t stifle my moan of pleasure as the tingling sensations reverberated in my cunt, and I thought I heard his breath hiss in response.
Time to do something that he could see again. I gathered my panties and pulled them between my ass cheeks, like a thong, but I bunched the front part as well, and slipped it between my pussy lips, crying out as the fabric chafed against my oversensitized clit. I parted my feet wide and, hinging from my hips, arching my back, I bent all the way forward until I was touching the floor next to my f
eet. In this position he’d see the lace running between my spread ass cheeks and through my cunt, with my plump, hairless pussy lips bulging round it. I held the pose for just one second to give him a tantalizing glimpse then straightened.
Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, I shimmied them slowly down my thighs. The center panel was soaked from my pussy juices. When the panties were just above my knees, I stopped and bent forward again, reaching back and pulling my ass cheeks wide—wide enough to spread my cunt.
Matt slammed his hand down onto the desk. “Damn it, Jane! Come here. Right now!”
It was not a command to be disobeyed. I hurried over, my panties still around my knees.
“This side!”
I slipped round the desk to stand in front of him. His eyes were fixed on my denuded mound. His body was rigid with a tension that could not be hidden by the well-cut lines of his suit, and his eyes were wild.
“Oh fuck, you’ve waxed.” His voice was a strained rasp. I nodded uncertainly.
“Do you know what this does to me? What this means? Get on the desk, Jane. I’m going to eat you like a fucking peach.”
I barely placed my ass against the desk when he grabbed my legs and flipped them up. My brain was still processing that I was flat on my back on my boss’s desk, staring at the ceiling with my legs shoved back against my chest, when he was on me like an animal. Growling, he splayed my labia with both hands and plunged his tongue into my sopping slit. He licked, sucked and nibbled with frenzied intensity then speared his tongue into the opening of my cunt. Pressing his face against me, he strived to get deeper, circling his tongue inside me, greedy and wild. His onslaught triggered a violent climax. With shock, I felt the searing heat of his mouth as he closed it over my pulsing opening, sucking as I exploded, drinking up the fresh surges of juice as I came in shattering waves.
He caught my legs as they collapsed but he gave me no chance to recover. Pulling me upright and off the desk, he held me against him as I struggled to stand on my shaking legs. His suit abraded my naked skin, the buttons and belt digging in to my soft stomach. He pushed my panties farther down my legs.
“Step out of them,” he ordered. “You’re going to need to spread your legs now.” Still in a daze, I obeyed.
He turned me around and bent me over the desk, his heavy hand pressing the center of my back. My breasts squashed against the cool wood and the edge dug into my hips.
“Stay,” he said tersely. He removed his hand but I didn’t try to rise.
“Look at this, Jane.” He put the butt plug on the desk close to my face. “This is going inside your sweet, tight ass.” With one hand, he parted my butt cheeks and ran his middle finger over my puckered hole.
It stood on the desk on its flat base. Then there was a narrow metal neck that flared smoothly into a black, bullet-shaped top. It looked like a bizarre baby pacifier. But it was that top bulge that worried me.
“It looks quite big?” I tried not to make it sound like a question, hating the weakness of my voice. He began running his palm over my ass cheeks, round and round. His big, warm hand felt so good.
“I bought a set of five for you. I would have started with the smallest, which is about the width of a finger at its widest part, but this is a punishment, Jane, so we’re going straight to the second one. It’s more or less the size of two fingers.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Probably. But you’ll survive. Hell, you’ll most likely enjoy it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then we’ll keep doing it until you do. But think about it, Jane. Don’t you like the idea of me doing it to you? Doesn’t your pussy get wet when you think of me opening you there, and slowly working that plug into your tight little hole? Your sphincter is going to resist it at first, but I’ll just keep pressing, and when it pops in it’s going to look so sweet. You’ll close around it, but you won’t be able to close completely. Anytime I want to, I’ll be able to pull it out and start again. And you’ll just be lying there, bent helpless over the desk while I do it to you.”
Oh he didn’t play fair. His words made me boil, fresh moisture flooding my cunt. He knew me too well, knew how much I enjoyed being helpless and mastered by him, knew how it set me free.
“We’ll start now, Jane. The secret is to use lots of lube. I know you like lube.” The reference to my solo activities of the previous evening had me blushing.
He placed a tube of lubricant on the desk, next to the plug. He’d already squeezed some onto his fingers, and now he parted my ass cheeks and ran the cool, silky liquid over my puckered hole. He tested me with the tip of his finger, an insistent pressure against the stubborn constriction.
I envisioned his strong, manicured finger pressing against the tight valve and groaned, my cunt straining and tensing with need.
“The problem, Jane, is how to get the lube inside there. If we can get some lube into you, it will make everything much easier. That’s why I brought this along for you.”
He showed me a disposable plastic syringe with no needle, just a slightly rounded end and a little nozzle.
“First I’m going to fill this with lube.” As he spoke he inserted the nozzle of the syringe into the tube of lube, turned it upside down and filled up the syringe by retracting the plunger. “Then I’m going to inject the lube into your anus.” He moved behind me.
“Try to relax, Jane. This should feel pleasant.”
He moved behind me and spread my ass cheeks again. I was overcome with a feeling of vulnerability as he stood behind my bowed and naked body, fully dressed in his suit and tie. The cool precision with which he explained his actions was a sexual torment for me. I wondered how stiff his cock was, and if he was keeping his clothes on deliberately to make me feel more helpless.
He pressed the syringe against my anus. The little nozzle slipped in and then there was a sharp pressure and a little pinch of pain as the body of the syringe pushed past my tight sphincter. He must have lubricated the outside of the syringe because, once past the tight outer constriction, it slid in easily and painlessly. I gasped at the strange sensation and writhed.
“There you go, Jane. Stay still like a good girl. We don’t put this in far at all, just past your tight muscles to inject the lube. We don’t want to hurt you. Now here it comes—you’ll feel the cold liquid.”
He slowly depressed the plunger and a strange cool sensation blossomed deep in my ass.
“Oh, oh, oh god! I’m going to come! Can I come, Matt?”
“No, sweetheart, not yet. Wait ’til the butt plug is in.” Of course, my traitorous body obeyed him.
He withdrew the syringe and picked up the plug. But before he started to insert it, I heard a familiar buzzing noise. He’d brought my vibrator. He slid it in and out of my pussy a few times then held it against my clit, rubbing it gently up and down the sides. I could feel a climax building in my cunt, but he stopped before I could get there.
“I’m just going to put this aside for now,” he murmured. “We don’t want anything to interfere with the sensation of your plug going in.”
I felt bereft without the vibrator stimulating my clit, but then the butt plug was at my anus and my attention snapped to it as he began to push it against me.
I felt the blunt tip open my ass a little and froze. He pushed and it intruded a little farther. But then the pain started.
It actually wasn’t too bad, but I was expecting it to hurt so much that I flinched and cried out. He shushed me and began to rotate it lightly. A slippery, twisting pressure built up and my sphincter began to give way incrementally. The twisting motion seemed to help my clenching muscles to relax and there was no more pain, only a peculiar stretching feeling. He took it slowly, ever so slowly. I had time to absorb every aberrant sensation and to wonder how it looked to him.
Almost as if he knew what I was thinking, he began to describe it to me, his voice hoarse from sexual tension.
“It looks wicked, Jane. You have the
most beautiful ass, all round and pink with a pretty, little, crinkled hole—a little pink starfish, all innocent and untouched. The head of the plug is more than halfway in now, and it’s splitting your pucker open in a perfect circle. The skin around it’s stretching and straining, but it can’t shut it out.”
His breathing was loud and fast. My pussy creamed and wept from his words.
“Just inside your ass is a mass of sensitive nerves, and that’s the part we want to stimulate. Higher up, there are no pleasure or pain receptors. Some people like movement and enjoy objects being inserted and withdrawn. Others like a butt plug to be left in place. They like the feeling of being stretched and filled up, of having all their holes used while they’re having sex. We’re going to find out what you like, Jane. We’re going to do lots of experimenting with this little ass.”
He was part pervert and part biology teacher, but the way he was talking was driving me insane. My body was screaming for release.
“This is it, Jane. The thick part’s going in right now.”
As he said it my ass started to burn again. I whimpered and wiggled, trying to avoid the intrusion.
“Be still,” he snapped. To my shock he hooked a finger into my vagina and used it to immobilize me. My humiliation was complete, my arousal absolute.
“Push out, Jane. If it hurts, then press.” It seemed strange advice, since he was trying to push something into me, but I struggled to obey him—and it seemed to work. With a burning, slithering pop, the butt plug slid into place. I cried out loudly.
He pressed the vibrator against my clit again, rolling it over the engorged bud, and orgasm replaced pain in an overwhelming rush. As my cunt spasmed wildly, my full and throbbing ass pulsed in perfect harmony, and the contractions reverberated out, out, endlessly.
When I came back to my senses, Matt was holding me up against the desk. My legs had given way and I would have slid to the floor but for his hard hands clamped over my hips, keeping me on the slippery surface.
