I stared worshipfully up at her from where I knelt at her feet. I had hired her six months ago to manage my restaurant, and in three she had tripled my business. In four she had seduced me. In five, she convinced me to let her tie me up... and a month after that I was her slave.
Horny and desperate and eager to please. Even in professional contexts, I deferred to her, though I didn't think anyone really grasped the realities of our relationship. For all intents and purposes, although I was still her boss on paper and paid her salary... she slept in my bed, fully clothed in elegant silk pajamas, curled possessively against my naked back, hands roaming at will.
If I was bad, I slept at the foot of my own bed, on the floor of my own bedroom, the collar around my neck tied tightly to the bedpost, my hands cuffed or bound. Today she had come into my office at work for a meeting just after the noon rush... I spent it kneeling before her, desperately licking her to orgasm as she described her plans for expansion and franchising of my business.
When she was done with me she left me kneeling as she stood and checked her immaculate black bun and makeup in the mirror against one wall. Pulled on her professional black slacks, tight enough to emphasize her muscular ass and thighs but modest. Then she pulled my head back and held me so that I stared into her eyes, head leaning against her knee. She was so serious and calm, while I was panting and eager and drenched in sweat. She pulled something from her purse and set it on her desk. I mean, my desk.
Then she stood and gave me a last pat on the head. Her full lips pursed thoughtfully, brown eyes assessing.
"While you work this afternoon, I want you to contemplate that. I want you to go home at five and ready yourself for me. Leave it on the desk when you go."
And then she left.
When I finally hauled myself to shaking feet, I found that the object was a dildo and a harness, long and ribbed and gently curving. She had made jokes about this before... but I thought they were jokes.
I worked all afternoon with that thing on my desk, dreading the thought that someone would walk in and see it. But no one did. They had learned by now to go to her with questions, while I was left to do the paperwork.
And that was how I came to be here. Kneeling in the foyer of my house, wearing a collar and cuffs on both wrists and ankles. A ball gag in my drooling mouth, my ass positively dripping with lube, leash dangling from the hook by the door, and a smile curling her lips as she stepped inside.
She kicked off her shoes, tugged off her pants, pulled the strapon from her bag, slid it on, clipped the leash to my collar, and guided me over to the bench against one wall. She pulled it away and guided me up onto it, knees protected from the wooden surface by the thinly upholstered surface. I was grateful for that padding. She still wore her button-down dress shirt, the top three buttons undone and revealing cleavage, just a little too much for work.
She stood behind me, dropping the synthetic cock so that it lay nestled between my cheeks, feeling huge and terrifying. She caressed my sides, rubbing and stroking. She briefly grabbed my hips, sending a shiver through me as she thrust against me.
Then she stepped back and slid her hand around to feel my cock.
"Not hard yet, sweetheart? But I thought this was your dearest fantasy?"
