Executives Slut Ch 01B

CHAPTER 1b: CONDITIONING CONT'D

It was near the end of the session on the Wednesday of the second week. If in the beginning, I had been told these sessions would stretch into two weeks, I wouldn't have believed or understood it. Now ... now, each session is like another epiphany for me. I am no longer merely eager for the sessions. I am excited, aroused even. When I am in the Executive Suite of the building, I sometimes see other men, the Executive Vice Presidents, but it is Mr. Baldwin I most want to see, again. But I don't. He has been traveling. Then, Sarah pops into the small office. Normally, she knocks and enters quietly. This time she pops in. I can see she is excited. Excited for me? Mr. Baldwin has returned and would like a moment of my time, if possible. If possible? Sarah doesn't see, but I squeeze my thighs together. I am excited. My body is excited. She suggests I spend some minutes with the headphones to clear my mind from the time with the laptop questions. I nod. She will come back shortly. I put the headphones on and a thought comes to me. I stand and move to the picture hanging in the room. It's a dark picture and I can see my reflection and when I look I fuss.

I can't believe how plainly I am dressed. A White button-up blouse and charcoal slacks. Why didn't I wear a skirt? Skirts are more attractive. Men like to see women's legs. Short skirts are even better. I don't have many short skirts. Or revealing tops. I can get some, though. But not now. Damn, he'll probably think I am a nun dressed like this.

The soft, soothing music is playing into my ears. Unaware, though, the subliminal messages are fed directly into my brain. Staring at myself, my reflection. What do I do? I've waited for this moment. I watch as my fingers undo the top three buttons of my blouse. I turn slightly and the edges of my white lace bra become visible. Better. I take the band out of my ponytail and fluff my long, blond hair. I smile. Even better. I reprimand my reflection, remember a skirt next time.

I look closer at myself. Not bad, girl. For a 39-year-old married woman, all 5'5" and 110 pounds. Not bad, at all. I glance down at my opened blouse and the ample cleavage showing. Yes, and those 34E's aren't bad, either. Men will love those and it will be so exciting when I don't hide them.

Sarah retrieves me and takes me to Mr. Baldwin's door. She knocks on the door jamb (she's done that before) and he stands as he sees us enter. My face has a smile that I couldn't fake. He stops several feet away and looks at me. Not just my face. His eyes stop at my open blouse before traveling down my body. A smile grows on his face. I'm blushing. I can feel a wave of warmth spreading through my body and centering finally in my pussy.

"My ... you look stunning Mrs. ... may I call you Karen?" I nod enthusiastically. I also blush deeper. "You do look stunning." I try to object ... I'm dressed too comfortably for the computer time ... "Karen ..." With a couple of steps, he closes the distance between us. His arms go out and instinctively I step into his arms. He hugs me. "Karen, you do look stunning." He steps back and returns to his desk. He indicates with a hand for me to take a chair in front of his desk. I wonder how many powerful men in their own right have sat in this same chair to discuss and negotiate projects and agreements.

He is still smiling. He is still also gazing at my body, especially my breasts since they are the only parts of me partially exposed to his gaze. I can feel my pussy getting wetter. He likes what he sees. I am pleasing to him. No wonder I am excited.

"You look like you are adjusting to your new situation well, Karen. Am I right?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Baldwin. Very well, in fact."

"The time you have spent under Sarah's direction has been beneficial, then?"

"Yes, sir. It's hard to explain, really, but I feel more alive and energized than I think I ever have."

He is looking at me intently. I am glad my slacks are dark and heavy material. I want to giggle at the thought, but it would be terrible if my wetness might seep through. Another good reason to wear a dress or skirt?

He smiles at me as if he could tell what I was thinking and I blush profusely ... again. "Would you mind standing up, Karen?"

"Of course, sir." I popped up out of the chair. "Turn around, please." I did as he asked. He was inspecting me. He was blatantly inspecting me! "Nice, Karen. You have a nice ass. I bet you've been told that a lot, though. I'm sorry, dear, do you mind that I said that?"

I was flushed with more warmth flooding my body. I stammer out my reply, "Thank you ... no ... I mean."

He chuckles, "Take a breath, Karen."

"Yes, sir ... sorry, sir. I meant ... thank you for the ... ummm ... compliment, sir. No, I haven't heard that much before."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well, sir ... I haven't really ... well ... I haven't really ..."

"You haven't been exposed to men like me much before?"

"I guess not, sir. But ... your question ... no ... no I don't mind. It makes me feel good that you like me, that I please you. It makes me feel good. I don't know ... am I making sense, sir?"

He smiles. "Yes, it does, dear. You are doing very well in such a short time, too. I see on the schedule that Friday is your last session." I nod and my face must have shown something I didn't intend. "Does that make you sad?" I started to offer something when he held up his hand. I immediately stop and look at him. "I would like to take you to lunch after your session. Would that be possible?"

"Yes, sir! Thank you!"

"And, Karen ... you are correct, of course." I looked at him puzzled. "A dress would be much more attractive. A short dress, I think. With your breasts in a low-cut top would be ... amazing. That would be very pleasing."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

I was almost skipping as I came out of his office to Sarah's desk. "Well," she said with a big smile, "don't you look happy."

"Very ... excited, too. He's taking me to lunch on Friday."

She smiles. Maybe it was leering. "Excited ... yes, I can see that." I gave her a puzzled look. "Your nipples, Karen." I looked down. Even through the blouse and bra, my erect nipples were poking out for attention. She handed me my headphones, commenting on new music added to them and reminding me to continue using them. I waved as I left.

* * * *

Friday's session was a whole lot deeper. I still didn't flinch. My answers continued to be enthusiastically, YES. I didn't even notice that references to generic men or man were replaced with Mr. Baldwin.

'The idea of serving Mr. Baldwin arouses you.'

YES. I was aroused just answering the question.

'Serving Mr. Baldwin is so arousing for you that being around him makes you horny.'

YES. I rubbed my thighs together. My breathing came heavier and jagged. My mind flashed to the lunch coming up.

'You are submissive to Mr. Baldwin and you want to please him so much you are horny all the time and can't stop thinking about sex with him.'

YES.

'In the box below, complete the sentence by typing: I am submissive to ....'

I AM SUBMISSIVE TO MR. BALDWIN AND I WANT TO PLEASE HIM SO MUCH I AM HORNY AND CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT SEX WITH HIM.

'Being submissive to Mr. Baldwin makes you horny and you think about sex around him and you know that having sex with him will please him and you want to please Mr. Baldwin.'

YES. Fuck, yes!

'As Mr. Baldwin's submissive, you want to suck his cock.'

YES.

'As Mr. Baldwin's submissive, you want to fuck him.'

YES.

'As Mr. Baldwin's submissive, you'll obey his wishes even if he shares you.'

Oh, God. My left hand clutched my breast through my clothes as my right finger pressed on the key. YES. I was gasping for breath. My new panties were soaked with my juices.

'Is a woman who enjoys sex, wants sex, will use sex to please men, and who dresses sexy to please men called a slut?'

Without thinking, my left hand found its way to my breast by itself. I squeezed it and gasped. YES.

'As Mr. Baldwin's submissive, you want to please him by sucking his cock, fucking him, and dressing provocatively, isn't that right?'

YES.

'As Mr. Baldwin's submissive, you will please him by doing the same for other men, if he wishes?'

YES.

'Are you, then, Mr. Baldwin's submissive slut?'

I might have been surprised that my hand had moved from my breast to between my legs, stroking my pussy through the wet material of my panties, but my mind was focused, too focused, on the understanding and acceptance of who and what I truly was. YES.

'Although you find nothing wrong with being Mr. Baldwin's submissive and pleasing him in any manner he might request, it will not be mentioned to anyone except as permitted by Mr. Baldwin.'

YES.

After that last answer, there was a knock on the door. Sarah stood in the doorway with a lusty smile on her face. I was slow in removing my hand from between my legs, which was where her eyes were focused. I blushed and opened my mouth to stammer out a feeble excuse, but she stopped me. She said she understood. She said she has felt the same way about him. I wondered what that meant. She wasn't like me. She was strong and decisive. But before I could ask, she handed me the headphones and suggested resting for a few moments before lunch. I put the headphones on, leaned my head back, and sighed as one hand went to my breast and the other returned to my short skirt and found my wet pantie crotch. The music went to work like I was now used to it doing. It had the effect of calming my mind while somehow causing my body and somewhere deep in my mind to vibrate with building energy ... energy that would need to be released. Not that I understood any of that, though.

* * * *

I sat across from Mr. Baldwin in a very expensive restaurant some miles from his office. The lighting was subdued and the booth we shared felt semi-private. By the time our meals were presented to us, the restaurant was already less crowded as we were at the tail end of the normal lunch rush. He had been pulling information from me and offering some of his own. He was ten years older than me at 49. I could see he was about 5'10" with a trim, almost athletic body. His hair was stylishly cut and still brown. He seemed amazingly open and I soaked up every word, thrilled that he was trusting me. He offered that he was in his second marriage, now to a woman 4 years younger than me at 35. He held my eyes for a moment and I found I was holding my breath in anticipation of something he was about to share.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" I blushed. "We've been married now for 4 years. She is my match. She is adventurous and open-minded. I think you'll like her."

Did he just ....? But before I could be more diverted by that thought ...

"I like the way you're dressed today, Karen. It is very attractive, very sexy. I am pleased. You are a sexy woman, Karen. Sexy and erotic. Enticing and tempting. Did you dress this way for me?" I nod my head and blush. I was blushing a lot these days. "I like it, Karen. I like it very much. It pleases me." That warm feeling floods through my body, again. "I like the way that blouse shows your wonderful cleavage. How big are your breasts, dear?"

Shyly, I drop my eyes as I mumble a response. He instructs me to look up and respond proudly. "34E, sir." I glance down at myself. He was looking, too. This blouse is form-fitting and the top button is barely above the line of my nipples. It is very revealing. I was surprised I bought it after trying it on in the dressing room of the store. I wasn't sure I would have the nerve to wear it. When I walked into the Executive Suite of the offices and saw Sarah's eyes almost pop out, I knew it was right. I knew Mr. Baldwin would be pleased. And, wasn't that what mattered? Pleasing Mr. Baldwin?

"Before the waiter returns with the check, undo another button. He provided good service, I think. Show your appreciation."

I smile. The feeling inside, though, was wicked. That's the way I felt as my fingers worked the button loose and the front of my lace bra came into view. I picked up my water glass and took a sip, my eyes on Mr. Baldwin as the waiter came to the table and hesitates before placing the leather folder on the table.

Mr. Baldwin wouldn't let me rebutton before leaving. I was to leave my blouse like it was. In the car, he asked me how it felt. Wicked, I said. He chuckled, maybe another time it will be two buttons. I shiver. That would be so very wicked ... and exciting.

I walk a half step behind and to the side of him. Don't ask me why. It just happened. I couldn't explain it any better than I could explain a lot of what has been happening to me or the way I have been feeling lately. I sense changes in myself, how I felt, how I was acting, and certainly how I was dressing. Not understanding, not seeming to be able to quantify it, though, made it easy to push away and focus instead on the now. That was never more evident than when we enter the Executive Suite back at the offices and I follow Mr. Baldwin to his office past Sarah's cubicle and desk. She looked up, did a double-take at seeing the undone button and my exposed bra, then slyly gave me a wink and thumbs-up as I passed her. I only smiled.

He held his office door open for me to pass through. To Sarah, he said, "We're going to be in a conference. No interruptions, please." He closed the door and smiled at me. He told me to stand by the front of his desk. He removed his jacket, hung it on the coat tree in the corner, then took his chair behind his desk. He leaned back and appraised me, again. His desk was nearly empty. A small stack of folders and a closed laptop were neatly arranged to his right. Otherwise, the desk surface was clean.

Tension began to fill my body as I stood in front of him while he looked, appraised, examined me deliberately and blatantly. The tension wasn't nerves, though. I realized as I stood there under his gaze it was anticipation. Then, it was like the moment in a magnificent musical score when the entire piece comes together.

"Earlier you said you dressed this way just for me." I nod. To be honest, I wouldn't have wanted to trust my voice at the moment. "That pleases me, Karen. It pleases me very much. Do you know what else pleases me?" I softly shook my head. "I am pleased that such an attractive, sexy, mature woman desires to please me. I think mature women are especially sexy when they desire themselves to be. Is that you, Karen? Do you desire to please me?"

It gushed out of my mouth without thought or control, "Yes, sir! I desire that very much."

"I can see that in you, Karen. You exude sexuality. You haven't always been this way, though, have you? But you've come to see what you are, what you want." I nod. He smiles. "Tell me. Tell me what you are and what you want."

I shivered. That flood of warmth flowed through me, again. I could feel my nipples tingling. I could feel the moisture lubricating my pussy, leaking out between the lips, and soaking into the thin material of my panties. This might be it. The moment. The past couple of weeks and the craving I have developed for this possible moment.

"I want to please you, sir. Yes, I dressed for you and I am happy ... no excited that you are pleased with it. It excites me to know I can please you."

He smiled. It wasn't a happy or innocent smile. It was a lusty smile and that excited me, too. "Good. And what are you?"

I was puzzled. At the moment I was just a woman craving to please him. Then, it crashed in on me. It was up to him, though. All I could do is tell him. "Sir ... what I am is now only a desire inside me yearning to be. It will be unfilled, unrealized without your acceptance." A faint smile formed on his mouth as if he was forcing a reaction down. With only silence, I had to press ahead. The words echoing in my head and I verbalized the words to him. "I know I am submissive, Mr. Baldwin. And ... and ... I ... I want ... I would be your submissive ... if you would have me. Mr. Baldwin, the idea of serving you ... arouses me, it makes me constantly horny. I think about being your submissive and ... I can't stop thinking about sex." He sat there watching me, studying my face, watching my chest rise and fall as my breathing increased wildly. That smile remaining on his face and maybe growing a bit as he studied me. "That's what I am, sir. Or, will be if ..."

"If I have you?" I nod expectantly. "Sex ... you only imagine about sex with me or you want sex with me? What is it you would do? What would you be for me, Karen?"

"I imagine it, yes, but I want it, too."

"Take off your blouse, Karen." My fingers began undoing the remaining buttons until I had to pull the tails out of my skirt to finish. I slid it off my shoulders and dropped it on the chair. I stood before him, a bit anxious and nervous, feeling something not being normal but exciting and real at the same time. "What exactly is it you want to do for sex with me?"

"I ... I ... want to suck your cock, sir." He told me to drop my skirt. I was now standing in my new lace bra, panties, thigh-high stockings, and heels. Then, he asked what else. "I want to fuck you, sir. I want to suck you and fuck you to serve and please you." He motioned to my bra and I dropped it, revealing my 34E breasts naked for his view. I thought I might orgasm right then. He didn't have to ask. "I want to suck and fuck and obey all your wishes and desires, sir."

He pointed to my panties. I took a breath. That feeling that something was not normal but was too exciting to avoid. I pushed my panties down my thighs and stepped out of them. Now standing naked in his office without a concern.

"You're shaved. Have you always shaved, Karen?" I looked down at my body. God, I was naked and it was so exciting! I shook my head. "You did it for me? In anticipation of what might happen?" I nod and held his eyes, though his eyes moved from mine to my breasts to my shaved pussy. He opened two fingers and I knew. I separated my legs. He now had a better view. I blushed with my blatant display. "I am pleased. I am very pleased. You dressed for me. You undressed for me. You offered yourself to me. You shaved for me. I am pleased, Karen."

"Thank you, sir."

"Karen, tell me something ... a woman who would confess such things to a man she barely knows, who dresses sexy for him, who stands naked in his office, who wishes to have sex with him ... is there a word for such a woman?"

"A slut, sir. I am that woman, I am your submissive slut."

"We'll see ..." He turned his desk chair sideways.

I stepped to him around the side of the desk. I sank to my knees in front of him, worked his belt and slacks open. I pulled the waist down over his hips to expose his already hard cock. I might not have had a lot of sexual experience with Gerald and certainly not adventurous sex, but I found myself typing in internet searches while listening to the headphones. What I physically might lack I had gained visual study. I licked his cock from the base to the head which slipped into my lips and mouth. I sucked the head before kissing and licking down the shaft, again. The fingers of one hand began massaging his balls as I suck and stroke his cock. I push my mouth down as far as I could without gagging, managing to take the head to the entrance to my throat. Up and down my mouth worked. I lost myself in the act. I felt his cock pulse and I strain my eyes up to look at him. I knew I should take him in my mouth and swallow and I was prepared to even though I never had before but he suddenly stood, his cock pulling from my mouth.

He grasps me, turns me to his desk, and presses me forward, my breasts and stomach press onto the highly polished surface. I open my legs wide and gasp as I feel him take my hips in his hands and his cock poking at my pussy. My breath catches in my throat as I feel his cock sliding along my wet pussy lips, probing the wet tissue between them until it sinks into my hole. Without exhaling, I suck in more air, my lungs full and held as he plunges deeper into my pussy. With one hand on my upper back pressing me onto the desktop, he pulls back a few inches ... then plunges fully into me until his hips smack against my ass. It drives all the held air out of my lungs and with it a loud gasping groan. He pulls back and presses forcefully back in. Then over and over. Each thrust becomes a little bit quicker, a little bit more urgent until he is pounding his cock into my pussy.