There were times when I would catch his eyes following me as I moved around the office. At these times, I would make sure that I was smiling more brilliantly, concentrating more fiercely, or laughing at something another person just said. I was a good girl. I ignored him in all but the most professional capacity. It was "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," and "I'll have those numbers on your desk right away, sir." I did not let my glance linger, I did not address him in any fashion that might be construed as familiar. I DID wear tighter pants, higher skirts, and blouses that revealed my breasts to their best advantage. And heels. He was determined to make us wait until Friday each week? I determined to make it as hard as possible for him to do so. It seemed only fair.
So by the time Friday evening rolled around, he had a lot of pent up frustration to work out. And that was just fine with me. The third time I closed his office door behind me, he had me strip to nothing but the boots. I suspect he had a more elaborate setup in mind, something more like the ropes currently suspending me from a ceiling hook, but when I slid one leather-encased leg up on his desk so that my dripping snatch was spread out in front of him, he abandoned his complex schemes. His erection was already substantial; when I leaned over to free it, breasts spilling out and hands insistent, he simply pushed his keyboard out of the way and fucked me quick and dirty like that. While he was pounding his thick cock in and out of my pussy, I could sense that undercurrent again, of desire not fully unleashed, of savagery barely held in check, but only his heavy breathing gave him away. After he came, pushing hard into me and shaking in silence, he simply shook his head with a dry chuckle, slapped me on the ass, and said, "Out." I pouted for a few minutes while I put my clothes back on, but I could sense this was not the time to push him.
Now I was thinking back fondly on that quick and dirty let-off-steam sex, as my arms began to ache and my tits ached and my pussy ached and I wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into.
When I had pushed open my boss's door earlier that afternoon, he held up a finger, still concentrating on the screen in front of him. I closed the door gently, and leaned back against it. The boots he continued to request I wear made me feel taller, and anticipation began to pool in my belly. Finally, he turned to me. He looked particularly delicious today, with a burgundy button-down perfectly offsetting his mahogany hair and chocolate brown eyes. Just now, they were guarded, but I could see something swimming in their depths.
After a moment, he spoke. "Unfortunately, I still have a few things to finish up here." I tried not to let my disappointment show on my face.
"As I do not wish to postpone our appointment, however, I intend to make you more comfortable while you wait." His voice was still soft, but I caught the edge of menace, and my nerve ends began zinging.
He got up from his desk. My first glance was to the zipper of his trousers. Was it already bulging? He moved toward me deliberately and his strong fingers reached for the buttons of my white collared shirt. I had chosen a classic secretary look today; black pencil skirt with a garter belt but no panties, crisp white blouse with a lace bra underneath. Which he was now revealing as his powerful hands parted my shirt and pushed it off my shoulders.
"-will use the code we discussed. It is imperative that you operate within your limits, Alice." I reluctantly brought my attention back to his words, and nodded. He was maddeningly close to actually touching my skin, and I thought I might go mad with the nearness of him. But, having divested me of my shirt alone, he turned away.
"Please remove your skirt, then hold your hands together out in front of you." His voice was still cool and detached. I tried not to let my longing for him show as I did as he asked. For good measure I also removed the bra, half hoping it would incite his wrath. Some response, anyway. He merely shrugged and rummaged through his briefcase as I stood there shivering in my boots.
When he turned around, he had two things in his hand. One was a thick nylon rope, black and ominous, with wide cuffs dangling from one end; the other was a two-pronged dildo with a suction cup at it's base. He cocked an eyebrow and regarded me sardonically, then with a swift, sharp movement, plunged the dildo down hard on the corner of his desk where it stuck, vibrating obscenely.
I watched it with fascinated apprehension as he began attaching the cuffs to my wrists. This he did quickly and efficiently, saying nothing. Then he stood briefly on his chair to thread the rope through the ceiling hook. Slowly, he pulled. Hand over hand, not taking his eyes from me, until my arms were taut and my weight nearly entirely suspended from them. My boots were just the right height to save me, my tiptoes grasping for purchase.
My ribcage lifted as I drew in a shuddering breath, my breasts jutting out at him. Briefly, he cupped them in his hot palms, eyelids dropping a fraction of an inch as he let their weight absorb his heat. An almost unintentional caress across the nipples with his thumb, and then he withdrew again, mask of impersonal professionalism in place once more. Then, the pressure of a hand against my belly guiding me back carefully until my ass just brushed the dildo attached to the desk behind me.
"Hm," he said with mock dissatisfaction, "it looks like I'm going to have to lift you a little more initially." He pulled hard on the counter-rope, and I gasped as my feet left the floor. I hung there squirming slightly, feeling completely vulnerable and at the mercy of my boss, who was just now coolly gauging the distance between the dildo and my dripping snatch. He looped the rope around the doorknob a few more times while I hung there, breath coming faster now. He positioned me carefully, the longer, larger tip just grazing my pussy.
By now I was making tiny whimpering noises, needing both to be filled and wanting to escape the torment of the restraint. He tsked briefly, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a gag. He tied it around my head, pulling my lips tight against my teeth. I met his gaze as steadily as I could, but I think he could see the frisson of fear in my eyes because he smiled slightly to himself. He walked over to the doorknob.
