Our affair had been going for six months now. Sometimes the cliché of an admin sleeping with the Boss bothered me but most of the time I was too blissed out in bed with him to care. In terms of scandal, ours looked pretty tame on the outside; we're both single and close in age. Sure the work situation isn't ideal but plenty of Hollywood money has been made on similar story lines. Lots of people would find it romantic even.
For us, the real scandal...our heavy BDSM dynamic...took place behind closed doors. Or at least it had until today. But, always the innovator, it looked like my Boss had something new up his French cuffed sleeve.
He came in at his usual time and placed on my desk a large, frothy mixture of sugar and caffeine from my favorite coffee shop. I squealed a bit at the unexpected treat and looked up to thank him...and hesitated. His was not the indulgent smile I usually associated with sweet treats. Rather, there was wicked mischief in his eyes that usually means interesting times were afoot. Still, I thanked him politely and vowed to enjoy my treat...at least while I could.
I was just sipping the last of my latte when he came out of his office and asked me to accompany him to a meeting on the floor above us. I grabbed my notebook and made to follow him to the elevators. However, he turned left instead of right and opened the door to the stairwell. "Ladies first," he smirked. As he had trained me well, I knew what he wanted. I got a head start up the stairs while quickly raising my skirt up to my hips. He followed closely behind enjoying the sight of my thong clad bottom bouncing. We reached the top and I waited as expected for him to pull my skirt down. He let me stand for a few extra moments until he was satisfied I was getting genuinely nervous about being seen. Only then did he set my clothes right and hand me a bottle of water. "Make sure that's all gone before the meeting is over," he said about the water. I nodded, grateful for a cool drink after my jog up the stairs and embarrassment.
The meeting was relatively brief; only a 30 minute staff update. In between taking notes I dutifully drank from my water bottle. A few times I caught him watching me drink and smiling that dangerous smile. My body reacted as it always did; increased pulse, stomach flutters, and a deep ache between my legs.
We left the meeting and again he headed for the stairs. I followed and we repeated the process; skirt up, make it jiggle as much as possible. At our floor's landing he quickly bent me over and put a handprint on each cheek. The sound echoed thru the empty stairwell loud enough to cover my surprised gasps. Then, before I could recover, he had me up, dressed and back in the office.
After settling myself at my desk for a bit, I felt the effects of the extra large coffee and bottle of water. As always, I sent my Boss a quick IM; May I please gp? GP was code for go potty, a phrase he made me use solely because I found it to be the most humiliating option. Instantly a reply; Nope. I was a little surprised. Until today, asking permission had always been a formality meant to remind me of his control. I had always received an affirmative response...until now. I sat at my desk keenly aware of my semi-full bladder and tried to think of anything else.
About 15 minutes later, he came out of the office and passed by me without a word. Within minutes he was back. "Your lucky day. The soda machine dropped two for the price of one." On my desk was a 20 ounce bottle of more liquid and bladder stimulating caffeine. "Thank you, Sir" I said, without touching the bottle. He reached over, unscrewed the cap, and handed it directly to me. "Good girls stay hydrated". I took the bottle and drank most of it in three long swallows. "Well done," he said as he walked back thru his door.
Within an hour I had become what I assumed was visibly uncomfortable. I could think of absolutely nothing else except my need to relieve the pressure in my bladder. He had supervised me drinking another two bottles of water during this time. After my third urgent plea to use the restroom was denied, I had become downright panicky. I didn't know how far he would take this but it was already beyond expectations.
There was another problem as well. The longer I was kept in agony and on the edge of humiliation, the closer I came to orgasm. The need to please him and satisfy my own desires erased most of my good sense and ability to say No. The longer this went on, the less the fact that I could easily walk down the hall and use the bathroom mattered. There was simply no way I could disobey him or my desires.
