The Novella Collection

by D. L. Savage

  “Tell me about it,” I replied, still feeling my face burning with heat and shame.

  “Just don’t take anything she says too personally and you’ll be fine,” she smiled back happily, obviously totally unaware of the crazy scene that had just played out in Mistress Cartwright’s office a few seconds ago.

  “Say, Becky,” I said, “are there washrooms on this floor?”

  “Sure,” she smiled. “Just follow the corridor down, then through the main office and they’re in the far corner.

  “Thanks,” I said. “See you later.”

  “Bye Peter!” she called after me happily, as I turned and rushed down the corridor, the taste of my own cum still strong in my mouth: a sour, salty tang unlike anything I’d tasted before.

  I can’t believe I just did that, I thought to myself, as I strode through the main office, feeling the curious eyes of all the office workers following me as I went, and I hoped my blushing face didn’t give away the fact that just a few moments again I’d licked my own damn jizz of Miss Cartwright’s desk.

  I pushed open the door relieved to be alone, but of course I wasn’t. Because there at the urinals were the two macho-looking office guys I saw whispering about me, standing at the urinals.

  I shot a glance at the faucets, but figured I’d have to wait to them both to leave before I could wash this gross taste out of my mouth. So instead I quickly locked myself inside a stall and sat on the edge of the toilet urging them to just hurry the fuck up and leave the bathroom. And as I waited, I heard their conversation and realized that it was about Miss Cartwright – it just had to be.

  “Nah, man, I don’t even think she’s into guys.”

  “You sure? She seems like she’s flirting with me sometimes.”

  “Ha ha, you’re just imagining it. That bitch? No, she’s a total ice queen. You need to stop wasting your energy there, man. What about Becky on reception though? Now that girl I can tell you for a fact is into guys.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Hell yeah! That girl’s as kinky as hell! You know what she likes most of all?”

  “No, what?”

  “Sucking dick. I’m telling you man, that girl will give you head at the drop of a fucking hat. She’s even told me she gets so hot sucking dick, she can actually have an orgasm just from the feel of a cock in her mouth. And man, she loves cum. She just can’t get enough. Told me once her wildest fantasy would be a bukkake party.”

  “No way!”

  “Totally. You should try it, man. Just hit on her some time. She’ll be sucking you off in here before you can say please.”

  At this, both guys burst into laughter and I heard the faucets turning on, then the hand dryers and then – finally – the bathroom door opening and closing. With a sigh of relief, I left my stall and quickly dashed over to the faucets, turning on the tap and rinsing my mouth, spitting the taste of cum into the sink.

  But as I did it, my mind started wandering, first to Miss Cartwright, then to Becky. Was it true? Did she really love sucking cock, like those guys had said? Did a girl as cute and pretty and innocent looking as her actually like the taste of cum? It seemed kind of hard to believe, and I figured those guys were probably just making shit up to sound cool.

  Once I’d finished rinsing out my mouth, I wiped off my face with a paper towel and then headed back out through the office.

  After I’d done what Mistress Cartwright had told me, she’d said I should take the rest of the day off and come back tomorrow with a better attitude.

  So I headed for the exit, once again passing Becky on reception.

  “See you later,” I said, shooting her a quick glance.

  “See you later, Peter,” she grinned back, giving me a playful wink.

  And there was something in her tone – something kind of low and suggestive – that had me thinking that maybe, just maybe, what those guys had said about her might be true after all ...

  “Is everything okay?” Alex asked me that afternoon, as I let myself into the apartment. “You’re home kinda early ...”

  I’d forgotten that Tuesday was his day off, and there he was in the living room, sprawled on the couch playing video games.

  “Fine man,” I replied, trying to sound positive and upbeat. “I just got to go home early because it was my first day. But it seems like a pretty cool job.”

  “Hey, you wanna play two player?” he said, patting the sofa next to him and offering me an Xbox controller.

  But I shook my head. “Thanks but I think I’m gonna go have a nap,” I said, quickly scooting off to my room. I realized I’d been acting kinda off with Alex ever since I’d first met Mistress Cartwright, and I resolved to hang out with him and get back to my usual self soon enough. But right now, what I needed was some alone time– time to think, to process the total head-fuck of a day I’d had.

  As soon as the door to my room was closed behind me, I pulled off my suit, glad to just be in boxer shorts, and I climbed into bed and lay on my back beneath the sheets, closing my eyes and finally letting all the crazy things that had happened to me spill back into my head.

  First the image of those skimpy sexy panties in the launderette. Then actually jacking off in front of Miss Cartwright. Then licking up my own cum. And then, to top it all off, finding out that pretty, innocent-looking Becky on reception is a secretly a horny cock-hungry slut who can actually come just from sucking dick.

  As the thoughts swirled around in my head, I felt that familiar sensation rising up in me again: the sweet sharp ache of horniness, building in my stomach and flashing out all around my body. And sure enough, as the sensation increased, I felt my balls tightening and my cock stiffening, just like it had done when Mistress Cartwright was punishing me. But even though my cock was growing rock hard, I forced my hands to stay by my sides, deciding not to touch it, instead just laying there on my back, denying myself the pleasure, but all the while feeling that tingling electric feeling growing and growing in my stomach. And man, it was the weirdest thing, but the more I didn’t touch my cock, the harder it got, like some invisible hand was teasing it.

  And as the feeling grew inside me and my cock throbbed and tingled, my head too swarmed with images and ideas. I imagined what it might be like to see Mistress Cartwright just wearing a pair of those sexy thong panties. And then that thought led me to think what it might be like to wear them myself – to wear the kinds of tight clothes Mistress Cartwright wears, to actually feel a thong slipping up between my butt cheeks. And I thought too about what those guys were saying about Becky, about how she loved the feel of a cock in her mouth, and how she loved the taste of cum, and that got me to thinking and wondering what it would be like to suck a cock myself, to feel a hot hard cock throbbing in my mouth ready to shoot, filling my mouth with the taste of cum – that sharp, salty taste I’d experienced myself just a few hours ago ...

  Before I knew it, I was imagining that I was some horny sexy slut dressed in cute thong panties, with hard little nipples just like Mistress Cartwright’s, and I was sucking on a cock – no on two cocks, on the cocks of those two guys I’d heard talking in the bathroom, the guys from my office. I imagined myself sucking them both, bobbing my head hungrily first on one then the other, knelt between them on the floor of the bathroom in the office, while Mistress Cartwright and Becky watched on, and I imagined that just like Becky I could get so horny from sucking dick I could actually come without even touching myself ...

  With a shudder, I started to orgasm, pulling back the sheets in total surprise as I watched my cock starting to pulse out squirt after squirt of hot white cum onto my belly without me even touching it.

  And even after my orgasm, I still felt horny – horny enough to dip my finger in the still-warm load and lift a gooey milky droplet to my lips, tasting it timidly with my tongue. It tasted like before – kind of sour and salty – but actually maybe not quite as gross as I’d first thought. In a way, I could even see why girls might like it. Because I could see now
that it wasn’t the taste exactly, so much as the feeling of a cock exploding in your mouth that would be so amazing, and the cum itself was just the prize at the end of it, the reward for doing such a good job ...

  Wait, what the hell am I thinking about?

  All of a sudden, I came snapping back to my senses. What the fuck was I doing; thinking these weird, kinky thoughts, and tasting my own cum? Was I turning gay or something?

  I reached over and grabbed a dirty sock from the side of the bed and quickly wiped off the rest of the cum from my belly. Then I turned onto my side and tried my hardest to get to sleep, hoping that when I woke up again I wouldn’t have any more of these weird fucked up thoughts.

  The next morning, I awoke feeling strangely refreshed. I’d slept the whole night through – normally I’d wake up once or twice to pee – and on top of that, I actually had this excited Christmas-morning feeling in my belly, even though it was a Wednesday and I was getting ready to go to work.

  I mean sure, part of me was nervous too. And I knew that as soon as I was around Mistress Cartwright again, I’d feel totally ashamed and embarrassed. She’d seen my tiny dick after all, and watched me jack off and eat my own cum. But at the same time, there was something kind of exciting and enjoyable too about being made to feel so small and pathetic, of just giving myself up to her like that, letting her take charge and call the shots.

  She was my boss after all. And if she wanted to boss me around and humiliate me, I was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, I actually enjoyed it.

  * * *

  “Here you go, Mistress,” I said, the moment I set foot in her office, carefully placing the Americano with cream on her desk less than an hour later.

  “What’s this?” she said dismissively, casting her eyes dark eyes down at the paper cup that sat before her.

  “It’s, uh, a coffee,” I explained, feeling the confidence in my decision to pick her up a coffee on my walk to work quickly draining away. “I just thought ...”

  “You thought what?” she cut in, with such venom in her voice that it silenced me immediately. “That just because I asked for a coffee yesterday, I would also like one today? Is that what you thought, Peter?”

  “I guess so,” I replied weakly.

  “I guess so,” she mimicked in a cruel babyish voice.

  I could once again feel my face growing hot and flushed as my shame and embarrassment increased. And this time, I could feel my cock starting to grow hard, too, like she was re-wiring my brain: her cruelty and suggestions turning me on more and more, each time she did it. To top it all off, she looked so fucking hot. Sexier than ever. Today her long black hair was tied in a severe pony tail and her eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner, enhancing their coldness. She was wearing a glossy white silk blouse, but I couldn’t see if she was wearing pants or a skirt as her legs were beneath the desk. For a brief moment, my mind flashed back to that laundry bag of panties, and I felt my cock twinge with excitement as I thought about the fact that she must be wearing a skimpy little thong or g-string right now as she was talking to me.

  “Well, Peter,” she continued, totally unaware of my private horny thoughts, “I think you’ll soon discover that I’m a lot more complicated than that. So, unless I expressly ask you to do something, just do nothing, okay?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I replied.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting a cell phone towards me. “Take this.”

  I reached out and took the phone; a top of the range iPhone.

  “That’s my personal phone,” she explained. “I’m going on a date this evening and with my schedule, I don’t have time to be constantly sending silly little messages back and forth. So if I receive any text messages between now and the end of company hours, I’d like you to reply pretending to be me, okay?”

  “Um, sure,” I said, trying to sound confident in my new task, but immediately starting to worry that I wasn’t up to the job.

  “Very good. The code to unlock the phone is 3569. But that doesn’t mean you have permission to start snooping around in my messages and photos. All I’m asking you to do is reply to any new messages. Understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Now please leave me in peace, Peter,” she hissed.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said, quickly scurrying out of her office again. And it was only once I’d closed the door behind me that I realized I didn’t really know where to go. Sure, I knew that my job for today was to monitor her calls and answer her text messages, but where the hell was I supposed to do it from? I didn’t exactly have a desk or a room of my own, and I couldn’t just stand here in the corridor, could I?”

  “Hey, Peter!” a happy voice called out just then, busting me out of my thoughts. It was Becky, smiling at me from her seat at reception just a few meters away. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure,” I mumbled, feeling totally humiliated and embarrassed, too ashamed to confess my latest pathetic worry. “I’m fine thanks.”

  And then I quickly walked into the main office, mainly just to get away from her, scanning around me in the hope of a spare desk I could sit at. But of course the busy office seemed to offer nowhere for me to sit, and I could feel people starting to look at me, wondering what I was doing. So I did the only thing I could, striding as confidently as I could towards the washrooms.

  Luckily, today the bathroom was empty and I quickly locked myself in a stall, sitting on the toilet lid, my heart pounding, my face burning with shame, the cell phone clutched in my sweaty hands, as I thought again about how totally fucked up this job was.

  Why the hell had I been excited to come to work this morning? I thought. This is just like a kind of torture.

  But even as I was thinking it, another part of me was getting excited about the idea of unlocking Mistress Cartwright’s personal cell phone and snooping around in her private business, even though she’d told me not to.

  So, once I’d calmed down a little, I got as comfortable as I could in the toilet stall and then with shaky fingers I unlocked her phone ...

  My whole body was charging with adrenaline and anticipation as I unlocked her phone, doing the exact thing Mistress Cartwright had told me not to do. I was disobeying her – disobeying my Mistress! And I suppose, deep down, I was doing it not only to find out more about her but also because I was eager for another punishment, eager to be disciplined again by my cruel, strict Mistress.

  Once the phone was unlocked, I paused for a moment, unsure about whether to start with her messages or photos. After a quick deliberation, I opened photos, eager to see some candid photos of her – perhaps even some naked selfies. But in that, my hopes were dashed. Sure, there were some photos of her, teasing selfies taken in what looked like a very expensive luxury apartment. But there were no nudes or underwear shots and I felt a sharp pang of disappointment.

  Next I opened text messages, and the first message I saw totally took me by surprise. It was a photo message. A photo message of a big, black cock. I stared at it, feeling my heart pounding. Holy shit. It was huge. Thick and meaty, totally erect, jutting up at the camera with a large set of shaved balls beneath. And beneath the message, just one line: Like what you see?

  I felt a flash of panic. Was I supposed to reply? I just stared at the cock and the message for a while, totally transfixed, before snapping back to my senses, and deciding to scroll up through the earlier message exchange to see what else Mistress Cartwright had said.

  The very first message in the thread was from the guy, who was saved on her phone as Tyler. It said: Hey my pretty English girl, it was really great to meet you tonight. Hoping we can meet up soon, one on one. ;)

  To which Mistress Cartwright had replied: Sure baby. I’d love that. When’s good for you?

  It was so strange to think of my Mistress acting like that, playing the role of the coquettish girl, when all I’d ever seen of her was as my cruel strict boss. But then again, I reminded myself that I wasn’t some no-doubt-handsome guy with a huge cock. I w
as a pathetic little worm with a puny dick.

  I scrolled down to the next message: How’s Wednesday night for you? I can’t wait to get you on your own. X

  Then Mistress Cartwright’s reply: Wednesday is good for me. Shall we say 8. And tell me, I’m not going to be disappointed am I, if you know what I mean? ;)

  The next message from Tyler read: I think I know what you’re saying baby, and I PROMISE you’ll be in for a good time. X

  Then, from Mistress Cartwright, sent just this morning – a few minutes before she’d handed me the cell phone in her office: Prove it. x

  And then the picture of Tyler’s big black dick and his question: Like what you see? x

  I stared at the dick again, feeling my heart pounding in my chest as I realized that it was my job to respond to this message. After all, that was what she’d said, wasn’t it? That I was to reply to any messages, pretending to be her?

  I took a deep breath and then typed out my reply.

  I love it.

  Then I hit send. Less than a minute later, a new message flashed up on the screen.

  That big dick getting your panties wet baby?

  As I read the message, I felt my cock growing hard as I imagined Mistress Cartwright’s pussy getting all juicy at the thought of Tyler’s big black cock.

  I quickly typed out my reply: It sure is.

  And as I sat there waiting for his next reply, I found myself growing hornier and hornier at the idea of Mistress Cartwright – my strict cruel English mistress – sucking on this big black cock ...

  * * *

  I spent practically the whole day in the washrooms, sending sexy messages back and forth with Tyler. And with each message I sent him, I felt myself growing more and more turned on, but also kind of envious too: wishing it was me that was meeting him – wishing that instead of the puny male body I’d been born in, that I was a sexy beautiful woman, getting ready to meet some hot guy with a big dick.

  In fact, I was so worked up that I knew I was going to have to masturbate to clear my head. So I started unbuckling my pants and jacking my dick, feeling that familiar rush as my orgasm fast approached, all the while staring at the screen of Mistress Cartwright’s phone, at Tyler’s big meaty cock, imagining what it would be like to suck it.