When Aram got back from lunch, he saw Holt, his new assistant, sitting in his chair, her long legs crossed, and she did look smashing in her cream muslin dress.
Really, it was a bit beyond the office code, as the dress was more of a mini-dress thing, and just ended past Holt's thighs.
But Aram enjoyed looking at Holt as did other men (and some women)in the office, and so little was said about her curious dishabille.
Holt tossed her blonde mane and held up an opened package.
Oh my, Aram thought.
Holt regarded her employer coldly. "What the hell is this?"
Aram leaned against the door. "When did, uh, that get in."
"Oh, this morning. You always seem to know when to order some weird shit, Aram, but when it comes to the Usborne papers, which the client has been waiting for..."
"Holt, don't worry about it, just let me--" Aram stepped forward.
Holt smiled mockingly, and began reading aloud from a piece of foolscap found in the box.
"This high quality polycarbonate chastity cage is a must for frequent masturbators and errant slave-pigs. It's lightweight, durable and hypo-allergenic..."
Holt paused and began giggling. "It-it comes with--oh this is funny--a tight lock and plastic tie ins if your chastity bound husband is going through an airport metal de-detector!"
Holt almost fell off Aram's expensive chair onto the floor as she laughed harder.
Holt held the paper closer to her face (She wasn't wearing her contacts) "A confinement miracle for the suburban submissive."
Aram's face grew red.
"It says that this gadget is erection proof, those naughty, naughty erections!!" Holt waved her forefinger warningly at her boss.
Aram cleared his throat he hoped, authoritatively.
"Look, Holt, this thing is a gift, for bachelor party."
"I know all your friends, none of them are attractive enough to marry, or quite frankly, to need this, unless they're jackin' it every second."
Aram's eyes bulged.
Holt was laughing more, and her boobs bounced in the tight cream colored dress. She was holding the chastity device out in her manicured fingers.
It wasn't really a belt, just a small thing that locked under the testicles.
Aram tried to be firm. "Yes, give it to me, and the box, please."
Aram felt ridiculous. He was a middle aged executive, arguing with a self-satisfied twenty-something
ARAM FELT RIDICULOUS. HE WAS A FORTY-EIGHT YEAR OLD MAN, ARGUING WITH A SELF-SATISFIED TWENTY-SOMETHING.
"You should put it on. I want to see this on you."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous. If you don't give it to me now, I'll fire you."
"If you don't put it on, I'm going to bring it to the outer office. Let them see this cute little thing."
This could be a problem, Aram thought.
A decade or so before, one of his male assistants had intercepted , the "Two foot long Silicone Flogger."
The secretary, Caruso Baines, had been very pleased with himself. He'd ordered Aram to drop his pants.
And the normally conservative, very heterosexual employer had obeyed.
Caruso had taken Aram across the desk and he'd whipped him very hard with the thing, and followed it up with his hard penis.
Overcome with the intense embarrassment of having been thrashed and sodomized by his insubordinate uh, subordinate, Aram had fallen to his knees, gasping after this.
The Twill trousers around his ankles, and oh, his butt was red.
Caruso had minced out, zipping his own pants, saying "I guess there will be no more fairy jokes around the water cooler."
Caruso had ruled the roost with a vengeance after this and had permitted no typing or spelling errors in the chief's memorandums.
Aram had learned the only way to keep from being thrashed by the nasty little fag was to kneel and blow Caruso as he sat behind Aram's big desk.
Later, Caruso had borrowed Aram's Platinum Visa and had ordered a steel paddle with the word QUEER imprinted on it.
Caruso had whipped Aram's bare bottom until the word was clearly imprinted on his ass in front of laughing queens at the Neon Shed, a cruel leather bar in the Narrows, a terrible neighborhood in Buttermilk Falls.
"See, now you have your favorite nickname for me imprinted on your butt for quite some time."
Aram longed to imitate Caruso's epicine, lisping tone, but he knew not to!
When Caruso had finally resigned to become a secretary or some sick thing to a Roman Cardinal in the Vatican City, he'd taken the flogger and paddle with him, and who knew what was being done with it now.
Aram knew he had to get out of this situation before his assistant became out of control.
But apparently, Holt was implacable.
"I'm going to count from ten down, Aram, and if you don't start unzipping your pants by one--"
Holt snapped her fingers. Aram knew she'd begin parading around the entire firm with the damned cage.
"Ten, nine..."
Aram removed everything, and blushed. He had quite a pot belly and his penis, tiny as it was, was starting to show some life, what with hottie Holt in the room.
"See, now I could take a pic with my phone and sue your ass for sexual harassment, but take the damn doohickey in my hand and lock it on."
As Aram put the chastity cage on, Holt commented that he was pretty quick at it.
"You've worn one of these before."
Aram nodded sadly.
But his penis was enlarging happily at being put in the device, and he just couldn't get over how dominant and bitchy Holt was!
Could SHE have done this before?
