Little S

He was specific with his instructions that day down to the color heels I needed to wear. His office by 11:45am bent over the front of his desk. No bra or panties, my white blouse unbuttoned just until my breasts spill out, my black mini skirt flipped up over my back, legs parted and elbows on the shiny mahogany top, with the tips of my racer-red pumps pressed to the wood.

Eyes closed when you get in place and don’t move a muscle or you’ll feel the cane tonight.”

I swallowed reflectively as I recalled the way his eyes glinted when he issued that command. The whoosh of the cane echoes in my ear and the remembered flash of fire on my skin holds me still, but I can’t ignore the telltale ache of my pussy at being punished.

Even as fear holds me immobile, my need to please coupled with my anticipation serve to render me a quivering, wet mess within moments of positioning myself over his desk.

The air conditioning cuts on, caressing between my spread thighs and raising my nipples into tight buds. My breath comes in heavy pants the longer I stand, and I have to press my palms hard to the desk to keep from massaging my engorged clit.

Time slows as I wait for him to enter his domain and then enter me, a thing he has dominion over. I shake harder as I consider what he’ll do when he finds me here. Which of His holes will he claim first? My mouth waters to have him there, the steely length of him sliding into my throat fast and hard. Cream dews my thighs as I think about him taking me there, my pussy squelching obscenely as he grips my hips and drills me with his cock. The air brushes between my thighs, causing the tight ring of my ass to clench in anticipation of feeling him there…

The fantasizing serves to key me up so much I miss the door opening. My attention fixes only on finding relief for the emptiness and need plaguing my body. I want cock, His cock, and I want it immediately. I shift in my place as the ache blooms full, but froze when fingertips tickle along the swell of my ass.

“Very good. You look perfect and I’ll enjoy having you for lunch.” His finger presses to my puckered hole and I groan at the teasing pressure. “Perhaps I’ll share you with my colleague who stopped in for a meeting.”

My brain catches up to what he says and a gasp leaves my lips. Without thinking, I open my eyes to glance around the room, searching for that mysterious person. The sharp slap on my hip has me turning forward, but I still scan the periphery.

“Uh uh, eyes closed.” He taps me lightly across the same spot, fanning the sting out over my skin. I shut my eyes a feeling of shame washing over me at my slip. “You were doing so well, too. Now I’ll have to discipline you.”

His voice was almost a physical thing, causing a clench low in my belly. The fear stoked my fire instead of diminishing it until I want his discipline. Even the strike of the cane sounded good if it meant I could feel him against me.

“Please,” I whisper as desperation colors my tone.

“So you want your licks now?” He cups my pussy, His pussy, and I arch into his palm. “Be my good girl and count for me. No noise.”

I nod my assent, my heart racing as I place my cheek on desk and lift my ass high. His hand leaves me and I barely suppress my wiggle.

The strike, when it comes, touches not the upturned flesh of my ass, but the vulnerable lips of my pussy. The surprise more than the pain steals my breath for a beat or two before I push a word out.

“One.”

Then again, the whole of his hand claps my wet opening and hard clit. “Two,” I gasp out. The next blow harder as I struggle to assimilate the sensations his touch elicits.

“Three.”

He strikes, I count. “Four… Five… Six…” Until my legs quiver, my cunt throbs, and the beginnings of an orgasm brew in my belly from the steady lick of pain.

After I manage twenty strikes, his long fingers  cup me again as he leans over me to press his lips to my ear.

“And doesn’t my pussy feel so fat and hot and sloppy wet now. I bet you could cum with barely a touch. Maybe my cock in your throat would send you over, huh? Would me fucking that pretty mouth of yours be enough?”

I can barely speak. A garbled sound tumbles from me, affirming what he does to me with so little effort. Whatever he wants I’d do. Whatever.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my face up. I keep my eyes shut until he demands in the seductive voice of his that I open and meet his gaze. They’re dark with lust and something that pulls at the submissive in me. I want to obey more than anything else.

Holding my gaze, commanding me without a word, captivating me with this simple act of possession. He holds me enthrall.

“I want you to come for me now.”

Just his words blooming in my mind are enough to shatter me. As I convulse, my whole body a ball of rippling ecstasy, he slips his cock into my open mouth. Even in the height of my orgasm I’m eager to serve him. I suck greedily, hungry for him and needing him to feel my desire to give.

That is true pleasure for me.

8 comments

    1. Lol. A lot of people don’t like reading first person stories. I’d considered using the pronoun “you” instead of “him” for the guy, but left it. I personally enjoy being in the story.

I like it when you talk to me

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