Flawed Red Silk Ch 04

Who’s the Boss?

We were surprised to receive a present from Christopher Jones’ company. We don’t buy in quantity from him because we are UK agents for several US stores. We buy bespoke dresses and suits to the US customer’s measurements and often to her own designs or for a designer employed by her. I suppose we pay for the quality of their products. Bespoke dresses in silk are not cheap.

As usual, I opened the post. I do most things for the company. I’m the secretary and the Company Secretary. The Managing Director, Edwin Miller, is also the Chief (and only) Salesman. Apart from the two of us there are only three other employees. Between them they cover the roles of Chief Accountant, Personnel Director, Despatch Manager and everything else including cleaning the office and building the website. Any of us can and will do anything. It works well because we are a close knit team.

As I opened the padded envelope Edwin walked in behind me.

“Hello, Sandra, what have we here?” he asked.

“Apparently a Valentine’s Day present from Christopher Jones. At least that’s what he says it is.”

“So what is it?”

I pulled out the enclosure and dropped it like a hot potato. The filmy silk panties splayed across the desk. Their redness was brilliant. The hem was delicately worked in matching silk embroidery. They were a real work of art.

Edwin reached across me and touched them reverentially.

“They are fantastic. I didn’t know they did underwear.”

“They don’t. Or they didn’t.”

“If they can produce underwear like this, we could sell it. These would blow the minds of some of our contacts in the States. The detail…”

He gently touched the embroidery.

“…is beautifully done with that touch of imperfection that shows it is hand-made. I wish.” He stopped suddenly.

“What do you wish?” I asked.

Edwin seemed embarrassed. I pressed him.

“What is it?” I asked again.

He looked at me, gulped and said:

“I wish I could see them on you.” He blurted out.

“On me? In your dreams, Edwin! I’m part of the company, not the company tart. If you want to see these on me…”

I stopped speaking as well. I’d had an idea. Maybe it was the effect of the panties, I don’t know, but the idea was wicked.

“I do want to see them on you,” Edwin retorted.

“Then you will have to earn the right to see them. The earning will be hard and difficult. Are you prepared to go that far to see me wearing a pair of French knickers, no matter how beautiful?”

He gulped again. He was thinking things he had never spoken about.

“I think anything might be worth it if you would wear them.”

That was a declaration for me. I knew Edwin fancied me but I hadn’t thought it was any more than a passing attraction. This was serious.

“OK. If you want me to wear them you are going to suffer. Are you sure?”

He nodded.

“Then we’ll start now. Down on your hands and knees, Edwin, and beg."

I didn’t believe he’d do it. He dropped to his hands and knees, raised his head, and said: “Please.”

“I told you it would be difficult.”

I kicked off one shoe. I pushed a sweaty nylon-covered foot in his face.

“Suck this!” I ordered.

He opened his mouth, moved forward and sucked my sweaty toes.

“Roll on your back.”

He rolled on his back. I stood up and placed my foot on his face. I moved it around, covering his mouth, then his nose and his eyes. I was pleased that I’d worn a trouser suit to work today or he would be looking up my skirt.

This was amazing. My boss was on his back with my foot on his face. How much further could I go? I decided to try.

“Strip down to your waist.”

He stripped. One of the other staff could walk in at any time. That would be really humiliating.

“Pick up your clothes and crawl on your hands and knees into your office. Wait for me there.”

Off he went, crawling into his office.

I looked in my handbag. There was nothing obviously useful in there. I looked at the coat rack for inspiration. I walked over and took my headscarf that I wore round my neck under the trench coat. I pulled the belt out of the coat’s belt loops. Then I remembered the spare tights in my desk. I checked. There were two unopened packs and the wad of laddered tights that I should have thrown away. I gathered up the laddered tights and stuffed them in my handbag.

I carried the panties in one hand with the belt and scarf. In the other hand I held my bag. I walked confidently into Edwin’s office. I didn’t feel confident. If this went wrong I would lose my job and I liked it. The pay was good but the conditions were great. I was risking the works on Edwin’s fetish for me in red silk panties.

As I entered his office I switched on the “Do Not Disturb” light and locked the door behind me. Edwin was waiting for me, still on his hands and knees. He had hung his jacket on the coat rack. His shirt and vest were on a spare chair.

I crossed to the window and shut the curtains. Then I turned round to face him. I was very nervous but dared not show it.

“Stand up, Edwin! Turn your back to me, hands behind your back.”

“Yes, Sandra.”

I tied his hands with one leg of a pair of laddered tights, wrapping the other leg around his waist before tying it to his bound wrists.

“Kneel!”

He knelt. I pulled his head back and gagged him with tights in his mouth and the headscarf holding them in.

“On the floor.”

He lowered himself awkwardly to the floor. I rolled him to his back with my foot. I dropped beside him and reached for his trousers. He shook his head violently. I slapped his cheek.

“You can’t say no, Edwin.”

I unzipped his trousers then remembered he was still wearing his shoes. I removed his shoes, then pulled his trousers off with a flourish revealing blue boxer shorts with an interesting bulge in them.

I bound his knees together with the trenchcoat’s belt and tied the end to the leg of his desk. Then I sat in his leather swivel chair and looked down at him. I dangled the red panties from one hand. He looked at them as if mesmerised.

“Now, Edwin, this is just the beginning of your quest for the red silk knickers. You will have to repeat this several times before you even get a glimpse of them on me. Are you prepared to endure that?”

He nodded.

“Right. I’m leaving you to contemplate your predicament. See you soon.”

As I walked out of his office he was staring at me. I locked the door behind me. Just in time. Danny walked in.

“Is the boss free?” he asked.

I had difficulty in keeping my face straight.

“He’s tied up at the moment, Danny. He should be free in about twenty minutes if you could come back.”

“OK, Sandra. I’ll be back.” He gave me an odd look as he left. Then I realised why. I was holding the knickers in my hand. I dropped them hurriedly. Then I had another idea. I picked them up again, walked back into Edwin’s office and dropped them on his face.

“Danny was asking for you. I told him you were tied up.”

I left him struggling with his face covered by red silk.

Ten minutes later I went back to release him. He dressed quickly but not before I’d noticed a wet patch on his boxer shorts. I retrieved the knickers and put them in my handbag.

Edwin came into my office.

“You really intend to make me work for this, don’t you, Sandra?”

“Of course. You want me to wear them. I might because they are such beautiful things but what you really want is for me to wear them for you. That has implications about our relationship with each other. If our relationship is going to change, it will change by my terms, not yours. You have no choice in the matter. I do.”

“All this for a pair of French knickers?” he protested.

“You know it isn’t about the knickers, Edwin. What you want is me. I don’t come cheap, wearing red knickers or not. If you want me, you have to prove that I am more important to you than anything else, including knickers.”

“So what happens now?” he asked.

“Today, nothing else. Tomorrow I will come prepared. I hadn’t expected your declaration. However you could take me out for a meal tonight. If our relationship is changing then we need to establish ourselves away from the office.”

As if to prove my point, Danny walked in. Edwin took him into his office for ten minutes. When Danny left Edwin waited about thirty seconds before coming to me.

“Would you like to go out for a meal tonight, Sandra?” he asked politely.

“Yes Edwin. I would be delighted. Will you collect me?”

He nodded.

“About eight o’clock?” he suggested.

“I will be ready then,” I replied.

I was. He was on time. We went to a French restaurant and enjoyed a well-prepared meal. He made himself as agreeable as he could. I had to keep reminding myself that this charming suave man had been sucking my stocking foot a few hours ago and had let me tie him up with my old tights.

He saw me home. I allowed him a goodnight peck on the cheek. Once indoors I completed my preparations for the encounter tomorrow. In bed I found myself dreaming of red silk knickers. In one dream I was walking down the church aisle on my father’s arm as a bride. I was a bride wearing nothing but red silk knickers yet no one seemed to notice.

The next morning I dressed myself carefully. I wore calf length boots and a long flared denim skirt just above my ankles. I had a tiered cotton petticoat under the skirt. My handbag was heavier than usual and dragged on my shoulder.

At the office I wrote a fictitious eleven o’clock appointment in Edwin’s diary. That was the usual time for me to bring him his morning coffee and to review progress but normally it was understood that urgent matters could interrupt or defer it.

Ten minutes before eleven o’clock I walked into his office carrying his coffee but with my handbag slung on my shoulder. By eleven all the outstanding matters had been cleared. I turned on the Do Not Disturb sign, locked the door, drew the curtains and turned on Edwin.

“Time for another ordeal, Edwin.” I said.

“Strip for me, please. All the way.”

He stripped. His tool sprung to attention as soon as he dropped his shorts.

“Now crawl backwards under your desk.”

He blinked at that but obeyed. I rounded the desk, hauled up my skirt, and dropped to my knees. From my handbag I pulled two pairs of handcuffs. I fixed them to his ankles and then to the foot rail on the desk. I crossed to the other side of the desk and handcuffed his wrists to the legs either side of the centre opening. He was secured hand and foot with only his head protruding from under his desk. I sat down in his executive chair leaned back and crossed my ankles with my heavy skirt decorously draped to conceal my legs.

“Now, Edwin, you want to see me wearing the red silk knickers?”

“Yes, Sandra, I do.”

“I could continue humiliating you for months before allowing that, couldn’t I?”

“You wouldn’t be so cruel, Sandra, surely?”

“Perhaps not. What I do need is a declaration from you. I want commitment from you, not increasing degradation. Will you commit?”

I saw understanding finally dawn on him. All he had asked me for was to wear a pair of panties for him. He had said nothing about our relationship. I had laid it on the line.

He raised his head awkwardly to look into my face.

“Sandra, I love you. I want you, with or without red silk panties. Will you marry me?”

I looked down at him.

“What about red silk panties?”

“Blast the panties! I want you!” he shouted.

“OK. You have me. Now what?”

He was non-plussed. What did I mean?

“I’m yours. We are engaged. Now what are you going to do?”

“Kiss you?” he said plaintively.

“You can’t, can you? You can’t do anything. You can’t even touch the soles of my boots.”

He looked at his handcuffs.

“No. I can’t.”

“OK, Edwin. I’ll stop teasing you.”

I rolled the chair forward until his head was in my lap. I rolled up the hem of my skirt and petticoat. I pushed his face down between my legs hard against the red silk knickers, which were damp from my excitement.

“There you are Edwin,” I said, caressing his head. “You have got me wearing the red silk knickers and I have got you just where I want you. That is the right place for a future husband to be.”

I dropped my petticoat and skirt around him. I enjoyed the next few minutes as he showed that tongues could express devotion in much more obvious ways that in speech.

When we married Edwin remained less than eloquent about our love, except when his face was buried between my legs either in red silk or just naked.

Who is the boss in our marriage? I am.

Who is the boss at work? He thinks he is but it is difficult to maintain his authority when he has his head hidden under my skirt.

NaNoWriMo part 4