I was speeding down the highway in my tight black skirt. Since I left my house, Mr. George has been connected to the speakerphone.
I left on time, yet unexpected traffic blocked most of my drive, so I accidentally ran a bit behind. I hoped Mr. Ryan wouldn't mind that I was a few minutes late.
I told Mr. George that, and he just laughed at me.
Mr. George sounded nervous, which I hadn't heard from him before. This made me feel uneasy about what I was about to experience. I drove into the parking lot and parked my car.
"Goodbye, Mr. George. I'll miss you." I say.
"Goodbye, Alice," Mr. George responded, then hung up.
Someone must've come into the office right before he hung up because he hardly calls me my name when we're alone.
He usually opts for my creative words to call me. Like slut. Or whore. Or bitch.
My heart ached for Mr. George as I entered the new office building. My black skirt barely covered my ass, but I figured that's exactly what Mr. Ryan is expecting. My white shirt was tight against my skin, subtly revealing that I wore a black bra underneath.
I was unusually used to my pussy nearly being exposed at this point because that was all Mr. George had allowed me to wear for the past two weeks, so no underwear was no problem for me.
So, when I got to the secretary woman, I felt oddly confident. With her judgemental eyes and stringy brunette hair, she looked my body up and down.
"And what are you here for?" She asked harshly.
I shifted my computer case strap on my shoulder. The odd confidence slowly drained from my body every second this woman stared at me.
"Mr. Ryan," I said meekly, cursing myself for my trembling voice. The woman rolled her eyes, dialed a few numbers on the office phone, and began calling someone.
"Some girl is here to see you," she said. A blush started to creep into my cheeks, and I became increasingly embarrassed.
She slammed the office phone down, looked at me, and said, "Have a seat. He'll be right with you." Then, she gave me a smile that made me feel nauseous, and I practically ran to the waiting area.
Mr. Ryan didn't get me for thirty minutes. It was terrible. All I could do was sit and feel the secretary's eyes staring at me. The cold air of the office also made my nipples hard, which didn't help the situation at all.
When he came for me, he made eye contact with me briefly. Before turning his back on me and barking, "Follow me."
I raced after him, not wanting to be left behind with his secretary and to avoid unwanted stares. We walked down the hallway before finally reaching a door that read Ryan Tucker, CEO.
He opened the door, and I followed him closely. Mr. Ryan shut the door behind us, and we were all alone in his office. It was giant, slightly bigger than Mr. George's office. It was all gray and had one wall that was a huge bookshelf. There were probably thousands of books on that one wall alone.
Mr. Ryan's desk was much more straightforward than Mr. George's. It was also much sleeker, made of glass instead of wood. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for Mr. Ryan's first orders.
I had already sensed that he was upset with me for being late, and I did not want to aggravate the situation.
"Strip," Mr. Ryan commanded me. One singular word from him had the power to make my pussy throb with lust. I immediately started unbuttoning my tight, white top. I made sure to go slow so Mr. Ryan could see my black, lacy bra beneath.
I slowly unzipped my skirt, and I swear I heard Mr. Ryan growl as he walked to his desk so he could see me from the front.
Finally, I undid my bra and slid it down my arms. There I stood, naked in Mr. Ryan's office. I wondered if he would notice the marks that Mr. George had left on my body. But, if he did, he did not show it.
Every inch of me wanted him as he stood behind his desk and looked at me like he was starving. The sexual tension was palpable. My stomach filled with excitement as I thought of everything Mr. Ryan may do to me this week.
"You were late today bitch. Your first day?" Disappointed, Mr. Ryan continued, "I am sure you know I must punish you now. I can't have you thinking that type of behavior is acceptable."
"Yes, sir," I said.
"Bend over the arm of that couch," Mr. Ryan said, pointing to a couch on the wall opposite the giant bookshelf. I walked over to the leather couch and bent over its arm.
Mr. Ryan walked over to me and rubbed my ass. "It's a shame whore; I wanted to be nice to you on your first day." He said as he undid his belt and slid it out of the loops.
He placed his belt before my eyes and grabbed a duffel bag under his desk. He came back and tied my hands together behind my back with rope.
