Friday Afternoon

That old 2:30 feeling was coming on again. Another week was drawing to a close, and it pressed upon me as a dull thud inside my skull. The Allan's Calibrations project had been due this morning, and with the incessant calls from Mister Simons, I had barely gotten the portfolio into Eunice on time. Other projects sat waiting for approval on my desk, nattering obligation and stress; undertones to the percussive throb in my temples. I stood up and tried to massage the ache away, pretending to watch my team as they poured over design schematics. They were working hard, as they always did. I really don't know how I'd do things without them. I never had the head for science. I was always better at finding and controlling the money than coming up with new ideas. But they'd never get anything done if I didn't bring in the cash. It's a partnership, but it's tough being the boss sometimes. I tried to push into the paperwork, knowing I added something essential to the process. Sometimes, it gives me some resiliency to the stress. But at the end of this week, fulfilling duty just didn't cut it.

I had worked for this position in project management for a long time. I followed daddy's footsteps, and surpassed him a while ago. I'm proud of the work I've done, the things I've helped create, and the success that's come with it. I was never much attracted to the parties and social life which so many of my girlfriends got caught up in. There were goals to be set and made, things to do! And if you wanted to be the one doing them, reaping the rewards, you had to control yourself. That control bought my suite on the 30th floor, let me look out at this spectacular city as a whole, let me have those finer things in life. I'm especially proud that I earned them, got these things for myself. While Ayn Rand had overstated it, I believed deeply in the power of an individual, that talented people drive the world forward, and that I am one of those people.

I picked up and sped through a memo from the legal department on the minueta of a revised standardized form. I managed to push through the slog of my headache and distill its points into an email for my team. I pitched the hardcopy across the room to settle atop the pile of missed shots by the waste basket. I looked up at the clock; it was still shy of three in the afternoon. Time seemed to be stretching and slowing, trapping me in the tensions of the workplace. I looked out her window for a moment, and without willing it, my mind slipped unexpectedly into anticipation. He penetrated my thoughts, briefly. His face did not even fully resolving before the sensation of moist lust filled me. I had to grab onto my work like an anchor, reigning me in against carnal desire. "Discipline" I whispered aloud, opening a new brief.

There was a knock on the doorframe, drawing my attention up, "Gearing up for the weekend already, Alyssa?" It was Charles. His smug face loomed in the doorway.

"What, Charles?"

"Just wanted to let you know that Johnston has given me the Iben project."

Fucking great. I had wanted that project. The Iben analysis system, once operational, would be a real career highlight. I sighed, having no energy left for the cattiness which defined Charles. He was a petty and small-minded man, whose cunning suggested more intelligence than he had. I looked up at him, "Good for you. I have things to do." gesturing down at her desk.

"Oh, I'm sure." He laughed at his own sarcasm as he strode away. I wanted to drive the arrogant prick's face through the plate glass of my window. My head pounded and I tried rubbing at my temples again. Useless.

"He's an ass." I looked up to see Emily, my executive assistant, smiling down at me.

"Thanks, he is."

"You look spent, Alyssa. It's been a long week for you. I know you've been in here until 9 o'clock most nights this week."

"Comes with the job." I let my eyes subtly wander the long, lithe lines of Emily's nubile young body, appreciating her understated sensuality. The throb of my pulse found purchase in my sex, granting a moment where the headache was at least not getting worse.

Emily perched on the corner of the desk, her skirt crawling up her smooth, shapely legs, "Look, there's nothing here that you need to do today. I can get these documents turned in by 5 for you; the rest can wait until Monday." She took my hand. My breath caught in my throat at the sensation of her soft fingers. In that instant, I hoped He would one day order me to seduce her. My mind racing away on me again. Of course, she was just being a good assistant, and pressed a small yellow tablet into my hand, "Take this, go home, and we'll see you Monday."

"You're sure?" I squeaked, imagination of her flowing into anticipation of Him. The throb returned to my loins.

"Absolutely! I've got you covered, Alyssa."

That was all I needed to hear. I quickly thanked Emily and grabbed my things. I paused at the doorway to make sure Charles was not watching. He was busy making an ass of himself with a delivery girl. I hurried out to the elevator and out to the garage. By the time I made the car, my panties were saturated. The throb in my head was falling away to a hungry void within, desperate for heat and use.

The drive home was a blur. Anticipation and uncertainty mixed in my sex, building a bon fire of lust inside. All the focus on work, the effort and discipline, I could feel it slipping from my mind. It was giving way to the obedience which only He could elicit from me. He scorns the world of value and profit. He laughs at ideas about economy and progress. All the power and prestige I work so hard to build and maintain is dust to Him, ashes scatter on the hot winds of His animal prowess. I can never put into words what He does to me, or how He does it. And while I can think about it now, that afternoon, all I knew was desire for Him. He would break me, and I would thank him for the beauty of the shards.

As I wheeled down into the underground parking of my building, I was so distracted by desire I accidentally drove past my spot. I doubled back, parked the car, and stepped out. My heels clicked on the concrete and possibilities raced through my head. He never told me what He would do, but I knew He would have me tonight. Sometimes, He sent for me, and sometimes He met me in public. There was a sadness edging my need, as I had received no instructions from Him today. As much as I enjoy being made to wait, it leaves me nervous to be without His guidance. If I think about it, I worry that what I chose might displease Him, though part of me feels silly for it. He is just a man, like any other in most regards. But I never can help myself. That afternoon, with only my own thoughts, He had me deeply and completely.

I had been in a daze, and looked down at my watch to realize I'd been standing in front of the elevator daydreaming for ten minutes. "Discipline," I tried to tell myself. But it only conjured the sensation of His hand on my throat. My panties were drenched and had worked their way between my pussy lips, a line of lace teasing against my clit. A neighbor waved to her as he parked his car, robbing me of the discretion needed to sort myself out.

He came over to me and shook my hand, gabbing politely about some renovations the building was having done in the gym area as we waited for the elevator. I had no focus for his words at all. I could barely maintain my composure, and was certain he would notice something. I was embarrassed by the circumstances of my wanton need. The polished metal doors of the elevator slid open, and he continued to speak as we got on. I smiled and nodded, offering an "uh-huh" or a "is that so?" to fake the conversation. A bead of lust rolled down my thigh, and I was sure he'd smell the desire on me any moment. I desperately wanted to gain comportment, to straighten myself out and address my neighbor politely and well. He's an important lawyer, and represents some of our clients at the office. But I couldn't recall that then. I tried to will the digits on the floor display to count faster. Not that it would help much; he's the only resident with whom I share the floor. But my lust was a betrayer, and the embarrassment only fed the flames of desire.

The neighbor offered me the floor first as we arrived at our destination. I was grateful for it, but tried not to show my haste. I moved quickly and wished the neighbor a nice weekend. I had to struggle with the key in the lock, my hands trembling in the rush of it all. I could feel my neighbor's confused eyes on me as the key finally slid into the lock and the tumblers fell. I waved again and slipped behind the front door. I leaned against it for support, as my humiliation crested in a soft little orgasm thrilling through my body.

I recovered and made my way to the bedroom to tidy up. I was stopped short in the doorway by the scene before me. Upon my bed sat a slender box with a neatly tied bow. The breath caught in my throat, knowing it was from Him. A hint of His cologne lingered in the air as proof. How had he gotten in? Was He still here? What was He planning?

Slowly, I crossed to the bed, finding a small handwritten card on it. It read, "Get Dressed." I opened the package carefully, finding new Fiocci lingerie inside. The bra was lacy black straps which suggested more that supported, and it would leave my breasts exposed to him. The panties matched the bra, crotchless and designed to present my vaginal lips at their fullest sensuality. A set of fine black fishnet stockings accompanied these, and a shiny pair of massively spiked heels were set out to complete the ensemble. I ran my fingers over each item delicately, imagining their sensation on my skin, electric with sensuality.

I hurried into the bathroom to prepare, casting work clothes off and into the hamper. I studied my naked body in the mirror, the lilt of my shapely breasts, the swelling of my pert nipples in the cool air, a glisten clearly visible off my shaven lips. I shivered, hoping He was somewhere watching, hoping He was happy with what He saw. I poured lotion into my hands and let them wander over my smooth skin. A moan escaped my throat at my own touch. The throb of my stress headache had fully migrated to my cunt, which was pulsing with need.

I stepped from the en suite bathroom, unmindful of my nudity. The soft click of my record player resonated from the study on the far side of the suite. It startled me, bringing another flush of embarrassment which blossomed red across my pale skin. A deep rumbling of distorted guitar joined the hiss of the vinyl, and I could feel the bass seize the pulse of my lust. I dressed, thinking only of pleasing him. I carefully set each lacy, strappy line of the lingerie just so before stepping into the shoes. I tossed my auburn hair quickly and sprayed lightly it into position. I examined myself in the mirror on the dresser. God, I looked so filthy, so slutty and depraved! My already wet pussy drooled with desire. He had made me want myself, and very badly at that. But He was here, and this was for him. Resisting the urge to masturbate to my own image, I grabbed a deep red lipstick and painted a shock of lust across my mouth, slowly appreciating the feel it. I walked from the bedroom, heels clicking in time with music as I made my way to the study.

He was there, lounging in a worn pair of jeans, a t-shirt from an old rock concert, and an oddly crisp suit jacket. His long legs were set wide apart, making His already large body appear bigger still. His dark hair was cropped short and neat, while His cheeks held stubble from lack of attention. He had opened an expensive bottle of my wine, and drank deeply of the red nectar as he watched me move through the space. The gaze from His grey eyes was arrogant and cool, and I could could feel an ire for him, somewhere deep inside. He left my so flustered, so embarrassed, so humiliated. That small part of me wanted to scream at him, but all I could to do was look to the bottle and back to him, my body swaying my hips for his pleasure even as I calculated the cost of the glass he held.

He noticed the look, and His smile said He was pleased with the irritation he had caused. He simply shrugged and turned His attention back to the bottle, pouring himself another glass. I took three steps closer, when He held up a finger, forcing me to stop. He took His time pouring the wine, inspecting its nose and legs before sipping it. Swallowing, he turned his eyes back to me, turning his finger in a circle. I turned slowly, presenting all sides of my body for his inspection. His sight was a palpable thing now, as strong and intense as hands on flesh. When I completed the turn, the swell of His cock was evidenced through His jeans. He reached into His breast pocket and produced an elegant leather collar, my collar. It was the thing which marked me as His. I had to trace my throat, anticipating its soft clinch there, the security and ease which filled me every time He put it on. My pussy throbbed and flowed lust freely. My throat ached to feel the leather cinched around it. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my desire, but knowing He saw it anyway. He looked from me to the collar and back again. He said nothing, but simply raised an eyebrow in inquiry. My breath was stolen, and I could only nod to him. "Show me you want it." He said, then leaned back and took a long draft of the dark red wine.

The shoes clicked against the hardwood as I paced to an overstuffed chair, lowering slowly into it, trying to let every line of my body flow before his eyes. I needed His desire so badly. I wanted to hold all His need. Careful of the viscous heels, I lean back in the chair and splayed my legs over the soft swollen sides. I was so wet with desire by this point that as soon as my legs opened, a small pool of lust rolled from my lips, down the curve of my hips, making a sensual tickle across my anus. It gathered in the bole of the chair, and I hoped it would leave a subtle stain for my remembrance. I was well past the point of caring about these things around me, and savored the filth of the sensation.

On instinct, my right hand slid down my flat stomach and over the lacy pretext of panties, caressing the swollen aching sex. My nipples pulsed erect at the sensation, and my free hand shoved my left breast greedily into painted lips. I moaned loudly and freely, proud to show Him that I was His whore, and for Him there was no indignity beneath me. My hips rocked upward, wanting Him to see the sheen off my asshole, as I stroked my throbbing hard clit. Sensation made it difficult to keep my eyes open as I writhed in the chair. The shutter on His phone clicked beneath the music as He captured me at my sluttiest. It is exactly how I always want Him to think of me.

Orgasm was building deep within my inflamed cunt. Need was spilling from the depths of my womb, a fire filling my flesh. He came on, bringing His camera phone close. I pulled my lips wide so he could capture every detail. Hearing the click of the picture, I released a purr, then breathily begged, "Please. Collar." It was all I could manage.

He seized my hair, dragging my head from the back of the chair, unmindful of any discomfort. He gathered up the hair, clearing the back of my neck, then cinched His collar around His pet slut's throat. I knew I was gone, sublimated. In my place was need and sex and only His desire. Eyes opened to see that He had stripped down, His powerful cock gleaming with precum. I felt the smile crease my lips, my hips rolling to welcome him as my fingers shamelessly assaulted my clit. He stroked His cock a few times, enjoying the view of His whore exposed and ready for His use. He grabbed the ring of the collar and pulled me close. Our lips crashed together, finally, as we kissed one another hard, desperate, and deeply. I felt him drinking me in as he drove his throbbing member deep inside me.

The lance of His cock sent a shudder through my body, and I gasped around His tongue in my mouth. Orgasm was already beginning to send rolling electric volts of pleasure ripping through my body, climax coming on quickly. I gripped His dick with the walls of my pussy, pulsing around Him, needing to please Him. Within moments, His hips became a savage blur, penetrating deeply against my gripping cunt. His thrusts came over and over, pushing my walls apart. He growled and snarled, as much beast as man.

I bucked instinctively. He continued to drive into me, the full weight of His large, powerful body behind each stroke. He looked down on me, watching my eyes loll back in my skull. He pulled me close again, His lips at my ear, "Cum." He whispered His command, and pulled His cock from inside me. As if it were a plug in a dam, my orgasm broke, causing a stream of hot clear ejaculate to splash across the floor and chair. I spasmed and rolled in the chair, melting against the force of my climax. Just as I began to moan in satisfaction, he gripped my hair and dragged me upright. The sensation hurt, but it made me smile all the more.

"A good start," He said, "but let's go make a mess of your bedroom now." He dragged me behind Him by the hair.

"Thank god it's Friday." I offered weakly with a smile. Come Monday, I'd still feel this weekend of fucking. It was all I would ever want again.