The office door had opened again and Alice had hurried, out giving quill a chance to have a quick glimpse inside. He'd been watching the comings and goings all afternoon. Erica had looked more and more agitated culminating with Maurice from accounts going into her room for a meeting. He had been sat opposite Erica, whose face was like thunder. He had been talking very animatedly.
Alice had been kept busy, which meant she was in and out of her chair and in and out of Erica's office frequently. Each time she got up, she had to pull down and straighten her skirt, her very short skirt. Her long, slender legs moved with supple grace, the calves defined the thighs silky smooth. She had seen quill looking every time, his quick downward look had been late each time. His cheeks had turned red and he cursed himself for being caught again.
Between Alice and the office door, quill had done no work that afternoon. Lust and concern had repeatedly replaced each other in his thoughts; work had not entered his mind at all. It had been over three weeks since he had come under the tutelage of Mistress Erica and his daily routine had begun. A week since what was his first real test in having to break that routine. In all that time, the thought foremost in his mind, especially in the afternoons, was his masturbation. He craved it. He craved the routine, the process, being exposed, and performing in front of Mistress Erica. But today, the thought had not come; the craving had been diminished.
The phone on Alice's desk rang. She picked it up, looked up right at quill, answered a question, nodded, and put the receiver down. Alice got up, straightened her skirt, and looked at quill again. She walked over to his desk and stood in front of it, arms folded.
"Been enjoying the view, have you, John?" Quill blushed, looked down, and mumbled he had not looked. "Well, Erica wants you in her office right away." Quill leapt to his feet, causing Alice to take a step back and look at him in surprise. Quill immediately regretted what he had done and how it looked to the startled young woman.
After taking a deep breath, quill said, "Sorry," and moved round his desk, head down, past Alice. She just stared at his retreating back as he made his way to Erica's office.
Quill stood at the open door and looked in. Erica was behind her desk, studying some papers. Her face was all sharp angles as her eyes angrily devoured the words and numbers.
Through gritted teeth and without looking up, she said, "Get in here." Quill's eyes widened and he took one step that took him in her office and within her field of domination.
"Close the door." Erica's voice was harsh, a tone not to be ignored. Quill quickly closed the door, he responded automatically, without thought he was being drawn in, in more ways than one. "Good. Now come over here, my side of the desk." Her voice had mellowed a little, not much, but enough to make quill only seriously scared.
He awkwardly stood by her chair he did not know which way to face or what to do with his hands. This close he could smell her perfume, he was intoxicated both nasally and mentally. His eyes wandered, her chestnut coloured hair shone, falling to her trade mark white blouse. At this angle, it seemed more open; his eyes continued their downward journey along the buttoned edge; one, two, three buttons where open, allowing her cleavage to breathe. Yes, "breathe" was the right word, as Erica took each breath, her chest rose up, the bra edge which was also visible seemed incapable of holding those glorious orbs of flesh in place. Then she breathed out, and they sunk back into their individual silken cups. Quill started to fall; he was going to fall into those fleshy orbs, those wonderful, silky, smooth, soft orbs of indescribable pleasure.
"Quill, stop looking at my tits."
Erica's voice was loud in his dreamy ear; it snapped him back to reality. He looked at her face as she turned her head and looked at him; his mouth opened and closed. She had not seen where was looking just two seconds earlier, but she knew. Erica looked quill up and down, her dark eyes burned into him; he blushed.
"Strip."
Quill looked at Erica, then at the door, then at the room. "But, but........"
"No buts, quill." Her tone was hard.
Quill had only ever been submissive in Erica's office when everyone else had gone home, and even then he had been dressed. To be naked, during work hours. His mouth opened and closed as words failed him; so many thoughts and fears ran through his head.
"I said 'strip'. Do it now, quill." She arched one eyebrow. "Do. It. Now." Erica opened the large bottom drawer of her desk pedestal. "Either your clothes go in here, or you go out the door." The threat in her voice was palpable. Quill gulped and took off his shoes. Each article was quickly removed and thrown into the drawer, with Quill getting more and more anxious. Naked, he stood, trying to cover himself.
"Turn round." Again he hesitated, then he remembers her threat, and he turned, facing the door, which could open at any moment. He'd be caught naked.
"Put your hands behind your back, quill, I don't like you covering up." Quill heard a drawer being opened then the snap of a pair of handcuffs going round one, then the other, wrist.
"Now get under the desk, quill. Hurry; how would it look for me to be found with a cuffed, naked man in my office?" Quill gulped, but the thought of being out of sight appealed. He fell to the floor and scrambled under the desk the best he could, barely giving Erica time to twist her chair out of the way.
The desk was large; the modesty board plunged to the floor. In a funny way, he felt safe in the semi-dark. With his hands behind his back, quill found it difficult to get comfortable under the desk. He looked out and saw Erica looking in; he smiled weakly and continued to squirm about.
"Put your back against the board. Now, bend your left leg and lift your knee high. Now bend the right and lay it on the floor, that's right, your foot can go under the drawers on that side." Grateful for the instructions, quill complied and found that he was able to hold the position with ease.
"Now stay there, and no noise." With that, Erica's face moved up and away and her chair rolled into place. Her legs now under the desk with quill, the amount of room under there seemed small. Quill tried to move back and out of her way, but the board stopped him. The light reduced, and quill had trouble seeing what happened next. Erica slipped her feet out of their shoes and planted them on quill's naked body.
The next fifteen minutes kept quill blowing out air as quietly as possible as Erica's feet pummelled, kicked, and rubbed every available part of his body. As the frustration and anger dissipated from Erica, the motion of her feet slowed and became less forceful. The occasional gentle rub was introduced in her repertoire of specialised foot massage that quill then received.
The phone rang, and Erica stopped, placed her feet on quill's stomach, and answered. In his stomped state, quill only heard the pounding of his blood in his ears. He was sure that nothing had been hard enough to bruise, but he knew he was going to feel the effects for sometime afterwards. So it was with surprise that he heard Erica laugh and say his name. He guessed, no, hoped, she was talking to Yvonne. Not that he liked her, it would just mean that no one else knew of his submission.
The phone went down, and Erica started to rub her feet over quill's body again. This time it was gentler, calmer. She felt her way around, felt just how his body felt. Her toes found his nipple; she pinched it, quill gasped, it was every bit as hard as if it had been done with a clothes-peg. He felt the toes release the nipple, extend, and then grasp it again. The gasp followed close on its tail. The next few minutes left quill breathless and his nipple sore.
The feet stopped and quill heard Erica ask, "What is wrong with Alice? She's looking through the glass, looking puzzled." Then more to quill she continued with, "Let's see what she wants, shall we, quill?"
Quill did not know whether to answer or not. Then he had his answer.
"Best make sure you stay quiet, hadn't we, quill? Open wide."
Not sure what she had meant, quill was confused 'till he saw her foot approach his mouth. Wide-eyed, he felt her toes touch his lips and move as if looking for an opening. Quill then realised what was expected, and he opened his mouth. Erica's toes and part of her foot entered his dry mouth.
"Good boy. Now, suck gently and keep quiet."
Quill heard the door open as Erica had indicated for Alice to come in. The soft moan that escaped from his mouth was greeted with a kick in the stomach, and he fell silent.
"I... errr, I, errr..." Alice's puzzled voice sounded so close, she was now at the desk; just the thin modesty board was between Alice and a naked quill. Erica stifled a laugh as she felt his body stiffen.
"I thought John was still in here, Erica." Alice finally said.
"Did you?" was the reply that gave nothing away. "What do you think of him?" Erica neatly turned the situation round, and in the process, took control.
"I... errr, I don't know, had not really thought about it." Alice sounded a little flummoxed by the sudden question, then she rallied. "He's been watching me all day, though. Especially when I stand up."
Erica gave a little smile and looked pointedly at Alice's short skirt. "Do you blame him?"
Alice laughed, a soft, relaxed laugh that came easily and rested comfortably in quill's ear; his cock twitched. Erica felt it with her foot, which she adjusted it so that the underside of her toes lay along the shaft. She moved it from side to side to slowly rub his hard cock. Quill started to suck harder on the foot in his mouth to control the feeling that had built up. Erica let out a very soft moan. Alice missed it in her laughter and the encroaching embarrassment as she thought about Erica's comment.
"I know, it is short and clinging. But I like it, as it shows my legs off," she confessed. "But it rides up when I'm sitting. I guess that's 'cos I can't sit still. Me mum use to say I had ants in my pants."
