Total Woman Horizons

*** Handoff ***

Kellie's coed assistants escorted her, side by side, to the campus' grand entrance foyer. She was curious and a bit anxious to discover who her travel companion would be for her journey to her new situation.

Upon rounding the corner into the great hall, she saw none other than her father, whom she had last seen during his tryst with her during Father-Daughter Weekend. She stutter-stepped one stride in surprise but her coed sisters pressed her to keep going until they walked right up to the well-dressed man. He had secretly been the Pledge Contributor that had financed her TWA Scholarship.

"Daddy?"

"Good morning, my sweet little Kellie. My, my... you do look particularly pretty today."

Kellie smiled demurely and looked down; her hands were clasped bashfully in front of her. The hanging arms pressed the outer sides of her breasts, and she instinctively crossed her legs at her ankles. Dressed as she was in a see-thru blouse and short skirt, she evoked the classic look of a naughty little schoolgirl.

Her gentleman escort cocked a sly grin, knowing full well, from their Father-Daughter Weekend encounter, about the luscious body barely hidden underneath the costume.

"Well, we should be going."

He took her hand and she followed him obediently to the waiting town car. The chauffeur closed them into the expensive backseat before glancing at the coeds waving 'goodbye' from the entrance portico. They were still waving gaily, boobs shimmying with eager enthusiasm as Kellie's ride pulled away from the TWA campus and onward to her destiny.

*** Getting Settled In ***

Daddy was slumped in his seat. Through the rear windshield, Kellie viewed her former sister coeds wave farewell. She twisted forward again in her seat.

"It's a long distance to the city, Kellie. We have time to get comfortable and reacquainted."

His fingers reached over and plucked lazily at her sheer blouse buttons. She sat with hands braced on the leather seat, face tilted down, watching the unfolding exposure take place. Reaching her waist, his hands reascended under the loosened fabric to cup her left tit. Leaving off momentarily, he pushed the unbuttoned blouse away from her right one. His face descended to kiss the nearby nipple. His hand continued its caress of the far one, rolling the nub with clasping thumb and index.

Kellie felt tingles emerging in her chest meat that set off similar ones in her pussy. The marvel of this forming caprice, with its surprise revelation of her father's involvement and his immodest availing of her body, had her nerves on edge. She decided it was best to go with the flow.

Her hand moved onto her Daddy's lap and she fiddled with his crotch. With a well-learned skill, she adroitly opened his zipper and burrowed her fingers inside to find his fine cock in early stiffening. It was no effort at all to extract it into the open. She danced her fingertips on its length and Daddy moaned into her tit. He returned to loll back in recline next to her and she leaned over into a better pose for fellatio.

Her fist held the hardening manhood and she kissed the knob, lapped at the crown, sucked the plump bulb through her lips, and heard more moans of contentment from her Daddy's lips.

His hand rested on the back of her head and she took the cue, descending the length for a deepthroat suckle. Bobbing steadily thereafter, she worked his cock until his gusting breaths peaked and his balls delivered the first of many loads of cum she would receive over the coming time In Daddy's doting care.

And Daddy had made the arrangements for that time. They arrived at a residential tower near his corporate office, and he settled her into the penthouse apartment. A quick tour preceded a continuation of the limo foreplay and culminated in a blowjob.

That calmed the edge and allowed for a more leisurely exploration of the apartment's rooms, features, and fixtures. An evening meal overlooking the city panorama eased them into an overnight session of familial sexual reunion.

*** Office Dress Code ***

The next morning, following a wake-up blowjob and a shower handjob, Daddy took Kellie shopping. He directed her to wear modest makeup and some preppy weekend clothes. On the way into a seedier part of town, she asked if this was the shortcut to the Galleria, a fancy high-end mall.

Daddy said 'no'; not elaborating on why. He just silently mused on his idea of a particular inclination for her office wardrobe.

They parked near a row of boutique shops: fetish, BSDM, a sexy lingerie outlet with a famous catalog brand name, and their first stop, an office dress store called the Sexretary HQ.

Daddy told the Goth saleslady what he had in mind. She gathered the items and helped Kellie try on everything in the back dressing rooms, much to Daddy's annoyance. But patience is a virtue and he muddled through the wait with intermittent mini-fashion shows to gain his approval.

First the lingerie: high thigh cut panties, string thongs, split crotch panties. An assortment of see thru bras and balconette-style boob lifters.

And, of course, strappy high heels: low, mid, and tall stilettoes. Kellie liked the ones with red soles; Daddy approved the extra expense.

With the underlings selected, it was onto the outerwear.

A collection of thin blouses, some chest tight, straining the buttons to form cleavage peekaboo slots, looser fits that would undulate when unfettered boobs inside jiggled and swayed. And some stretch tank tops, whose colors ranged from sheer white through red into translucent black.

Now for the wool skirts and blazers. Ass molding pinstripes, short or mid-length, side or back zippers. The blazers were fashioned with one button or none, either fastened below her swelling tits or hanging loose, lending furtive tipoffs to the mounded chest meat semi-hidden beneath.

Moving to other vendors next door, Daddy insisted on another visual review of Kellie modeling the wares to be purchased.

A few suggestive pieces were bought at the famous name lingerie outlet, just in case a real business meeting required genuinely professional decorum. Public wear like cocktail dresses and gowns, but still with strategic teasing cutouts, waist-high slits, and built-in cleavage boosters.

The fetish shop provided playful costumes: schoolgirls, belly dancers, topless corsets, and a sporty pole dance outfit.

Finally, dark erotic BSDM contraptions: a leather body harness, a sparkly jeweled collar, a black leather collar with silver studs, a ring, and a snap-on leash. A few sex-toy purchases included a vaginal vibrating egg, nipple clamps, lace blindfolds, and some whips and dog switches.

Daddy made several trips to the car and the trunk was filled with boxes and bags of Kellie's daily, and probably nighttime, basics. It had been a long day and Daddy took her, wrapped in a bodycon brand-name cocktail dress and heels, to an exclusive hotel tower rooftop restaurant. The pastel-toned dusk gave way to the twinkling city lights below and wove a quixotic scene that unleashed the incestuous pair's percolating libidos.

Arriving back at Kellie's new penthouse abode, a long slow fuck preceded a long still sleep.

The next morning, Daddy wanted a special fashion show of his recent purchases. Kellie obliged with a series of runway stride exhibits, emerging from the bedroom into the great room where Daddy awaited his store-bought amusement. It took all day to get through the various outfits, since some of the presentations descended into a strip tease and suck or fuck, after which Daddy need refraction time before the next copulation opportunity. The intervals were condensed by his pent-up lust, fueled by his memories of the shopping escapade.

*** Office Policies ***

Kellie rode the elevator with Daddy to her new workplace. They emerged onto a high office tower floor with more of the spectacular glass wall views of the surrounding city.

The neat but athletic receptionist was polite and professional, fulfilling her role as first contact, gatekeeper, and guardian of the executive suites. Daddy led Kellie deeper into the array of individual executive spaces, each with a titled name plaque. Her station was located in the central space surrounded by private offices.

She settled in, exploring the desk and computer, finding the desk stocked with supplies. Not all were paper-and-pencil-related items; a large drawer held a cache of gels, creams, tissues, and perfumes, provided for her frequent preening. Daddy told her each executive suite contained a private toilet and shower for heavier duty.

Kellie was allotted a few mundane office tasks but she was the Comfort Secretary and those duties took precedence. And anytime was a good time to dive right in. Daddy dispatched her to her first Comfort Secretary assignment.

Mr. Monroe was the elder man who got first chance at the new Comfort Secretary, a nod to his age seniority, not position seniority.

Kellie knocked on his birchwood solid door and heard his summon to enter. He stood with a broad smile, truly delighted to see Kellie. He remarked on their past encounters when he was a Free Will weekend guest. Kellie recognized him now with clothes on, never having had that particular view.

He sat again, turned sideways in his desk chair, and motioned her over. Kellie leaned in and buzzed his cheeks. She needed no further prompting; he was assured that she knew what he wanted. He was older and less energetic; she remembered his penchant for manual stimulation.

Her hands made quick but gentle work of his wool suit fly, extracting his semi-tumescence out of the boxer shorts. Kneeling at his feet, and suspecting that the offices were similarly equipped, she pulled the bottom drawer and found a stock of lotions and creams. She warmed a dab of lubricant in her palm and slowly rubbed her clenched fist along the shaft, a finger gliding up the vee and over the tip slit.

Mr. Monroe watched her expertly bring him off and at the last second, before he spilled his essence, she tilted him down and put her chin resting on his thighs. Her tongue protruded under his knob and his manly sap spouted across the gap and settled on her furrowed lingual appendage. The white goo squirts slacked off as her bright blue eyes looked up at him from above her wide-open mouth. He placed a hand on her forehead as she smiled and swallowed his captured liquid, pleased to have spared staining his expensive suit.

Mr. Monroe sighed and unknowingly patted her head.

"That was wonderful, my dear. Same time tomorrow then?"

Mr. Townsend rang her extension at her secretary's desk and said he had an urgent need for her. She wasn't fooled by his sly words; she surmised his 'need'. She preened her makeup in a hand mirror, smoothed down her skirt when she stood, and made her way to a door marked with his name.

He was seated at his desk. Silently staring at the buxom lass at his disposal, he watched as she shucked off her blazer, leaning back to let it drop, elevating her bra-packed rounded boobs. She looked down at her hands where they skillfully plucked the top three buttons, opened her collar wider, and further exposed those creamy billows of tit flesh to his better view.

She cupped and fluffed the dual handfuls, cocking an eyebrow in query. He smiled, nodded, and leaned back in his chair pointing to the space under his desk. She glided to her knees and cat-crawled under the desk to between his legs.

He had already opened his fly as she was performing her partial strip tease overture. She knew her place and fingers burrowed into his crotch, levering out his tumescent manhood. Her cherry lips took custody of his plump knob and it was only a few seconds later, a few slurps later, that she had him deeply bedded in her salivating orifice. She set a slow, long pace that would draw out his stimulation.

The phone rang and he answered. He started friendly, a customer complaint about a slightly late delivery. As it progressed, the conversation became strained. Engaged in a persistently angrier exchange, he was scrunching around in his chair as he alternately sat taller when talking and slumped when he listened. The voices were so loud that Kellie could hear both sides of the call. The woman on the other end sounded authoritative and Mr. Townsend got more and more agitated with her arbitrarily petty grievance.

Kellie sucked harder now; the vacuum needed to keep his rambling cock inside her mouth. The call ended with mutual telephonic yelling and he slammed the phone down, reached under the desk, and gripped two handfuls of blonde hair, jamming himself fully into Kellie's face.

"That BITCH" he screamed as his spunk shot out so fiercely it went straight down her gullet as she wiggled to free his hurtful grasp on her hair and throbbing penetration of her throat.

He sputtered to a halt and Kellie backed off to catch a breath. She swathed his deflating cock in her warmth and wetness until he seemed sufficiently relaxed in his chair. With a final suction to clear any latent goo in his urethra, she let him drop shriveled in his open fly. She watched up close as he tucked himself in and zipped up. Her task was complete.

Backing out, she stood across his desk from him, attentive to any other 'need' he may have. He brusquely flipped a backhanded wave of dismissal, a scowl on his face as he glared at the phone. She nodded her acceptance of his wishes and left his office, closing the solid wood door behind her.

Mr. Webster got her after lunch. She was seated cowgirl in his lap, his pants completely down and her bare ass straddling his hairy thighs. His tongue was merrily licking her bare nipples, exposed when her blouse and bra had been discarded during the full dancing strip tease before she crawled atop his seated body. He interspersed the tongue action with sucking kisses and toothy clips at her nubs.

The oral caresses rippled jolts to her pussy where it was encasing his non-stroked deep erection. Wanting better control, he stood with her still pinioned at his groin and duckwalked to the office couch, her tits patting against his chest with each shuffled step. Laying her back on the expensive red leather, he dove into a piston cycle of cock and cunt. It was a stimulating session, her bare legs flapping in the air above, as the corporate executive gave his Comfort Secretary a sexual lesson in supervisory control. She took eagerly to the one-on-one training, letting herself attain the orgasmic joy of a passing grade, recorded by the white lines of sperm on the walls of her womb.

Mr. Thurgood had gone through a hard day of demanding clients. When Kellie received his summons late in the afternoon, she was unaware of his irritable mood. He was standing when she arrived and scowling. She closed the door and awaited his instructions.

"Strip!"

Kellie's heart jumped a beat. His tone was harsh and loud, not a good sign but it matched his angry expression. She quickly doffed her blouse, having left her blazer behind at her desk. The bra was long gone, left behind during a previous session. Her tits wobbled in front as she bent over to push down her skirt. She pretended to struggle with getting it over her feet and the body shakes shimmied her boobs, a purposeful act to give Mr. Thurgood a lead-up show.

She righted herself in full frontal nudity, the panties also long gone from an earlier coupling. Her hair partly covered her face and, when both hands smoothed it back, her tits were even more prominently presented in high chest mount.

He snapped his fingers and pointed to his desk. Kellie stepped forward but apparently not fast enough. His hand gripped hard on her arm and hauled her toward the centrally located piece. The jerk made her awkwardly shuffle on stumbling heels. Her tits wobbled again, which she figured was his intention.

He bent her over the polished desktop. The wood veneer was not cold but neither was it warm. Her nipples, even compressed against it, puckered at the sensation as her boobs mushroomed out in bulging masses trapped between her ribs and the flat surface. She turned her head sideways, her ear pressing the same glossy top.

His hand rested heavily atop her twisted head to hold her there. He kicked her inner ankles and she shifted her feet wider, opening her thighs and bottom wide, completely exposing her pussy and anus. In her sideways view, she saw his other hand rummage in the organizer, pushing aside pens, highlighters, and other office implements until he found the gadget he sought. He held it a moment, turning it in his hand until he flicked a small switch and set the stacked-ring butt-plug vibrator abuzz.

Kellie closed her eyes and held out for the feeling of the buzzing probe touching her nether opening. She expected discomfort but in fact, found the almost tickling sensation titillating. A short pause preceded the first press of insertion that first pried open her sphincter and then slipped past to find relief in the dimple. Another pause before the next larger ring worked its way in and rested in the next hollow, all the while pulsating with vibrations.

The half foot of six wavy conical ridges finally reached its depth and was firmly held there between the last circular cleft capped by the flared base. In her bent pose, any body movement teased her clitoris which was mashed against the desk edge. Despite the seeming rough treatment, she was finding it to be a deviant exhilaration.

Her cunt was drenched with vaginal dew by the dual anal and clitoral stimulations. She smelled her vaginal bouquet infuse the air; she presumed Mr. Thurgood did as well and hoped it aided his arousal. And she was proved right as she heard a zipper scratch and fabric rustle behind her. A soft mass touched her wet labia, split the crease, and push inside her cunt. Although there was plentiful lubrication for a complete plunge, that didn't seem to be his plan. An inch in and half an inch back; he groaned as the anal mechanical pulses massaged his knob. He worked himself slowly in until he was buffing his coronal ridge across every iota of her warm wet quivering tube, steeping his own nerves in her erotic cock socket. Each push-pull rubbed her clit on the solid edge and she failed to stifle her growing series of loud moans.

At depth, he held, feeling the deep chrome plug buzz through the intervening flesh membrane that tickled his entire shaft. The stimulation was as good as a fellatio deepthroat swallowing tempo and he took that time to tunnel his hands between the desk and her boobs to capture fistfuls of her soft mammary flesh.

Braced by these clutches, he began the full coital cycle: a slow withdrawal to imminent but not quite breakout, a pause for a deep breath, and a fierce driving ram that bumped his groin against her ass, crashing her pussy against the immoveable furniture edge. He rested briefly at the bottom to enjoy the deep mechanical vibrations.

Kellie adjusted to his stroke pace and let her body be his, surrendering in her growing arousal to the male executive's privileges. At length, Mr. Thurgood worked himself to his own sexual carnality and finally arched tall, drawing her body up against his, hugging tight to the captured boob handholds, standing her tall and stretched in her heels. She careened off on her own orgasmic flight of ecstasy, wrought by quivers both internal and external, secured at tits and ass by the clutches and expectations of the commanding alpha male. She barely registered the internal inundation as his cock dumped its volume of milky lust into her spasming receptacle.

*** Overtime ***

The week proceeded apace. That initial day, when everyone wanted a first taste of her charms, led to less hectic days as the routine settled in. Most days were two, sometimes three, but rarely four.

She was lounging with eyes closed in her central station amongst the warren of private executive offices. She heard footsteps on the carpet and opened to see her Daddy walk up. He laid a hand on her shoulder, a loving squeeze.