I Do Mind

"Oh, Corvin! You startled me. I was just on my way out," the young brunette said, hurriedly packing things into her satchel.

"I know. That's why I'm here." He replied.

She scrunched up her face in confusion as she continued to shuffle papers on her desk. Her white sundress flowed with her every movement, subtly revealing the shape of her left or right thigh and buttock when it molded to her form as she shifted laterally.

"I really must be going. If you'd stop back during normal office hours, I'd be happy to-"

Corvin switched the lights off in her office, causing her to stop her sentence. Her shock was almost palpable to him. He could smell her fear the moment she realized that she was always the first one to arrive and the last to leave. They were alone.

"Corvin," she sputtered, trying to sound in control, "what are you-"

"We're going to play a little game," he calmly stated. "You are going to follow my every command and fulfill my every whim. Is that clear?"

"Now you listen to me. I am-"

"You will put both palms on your desk. If you do this, you will not be harmed," he said and closed the door to her office. The single column of windows provided the only lighting. It was almost as if their glow and what it showed was more of a roadmap than actually being useful to one's' vision. What it hid only heightened the foreplay of what was to come for Corvin.

She planted her hands on her desk defiantly, rattling the plaque that read "Samantha Chaud."

"There? Is that what you want?"

He reached out and grasped her right wrist. Her muscles twitched at the unexpected contact as the light was not enough to let her see her captor. She felt a small click where his hand was.

"What are you-"

A gentle grab on her other wrist and another click.

"You cannot move your hands now. They are merely to support you now," he whispered into one ear, then the other as he let go of her wrists.

She attempted to pull herself away from her desk and found that he was telling the truth.

"What did you do?" She demanded. "How did you do this? You handcuffed me?"

He laid his head between her shoulder blades and slowly moved it towards her butt, gently bunching her dress ahead of it.

"Ssssssshhhh. None of that is important," he cooed.

She felt something on both of her ankles and that same clicking as before. Her dread filled the room and kicked Corvin's primal urges into overdrive.

"Calm, Corvin," he thought to himself. "Everything in its own time."

He moved his head back up her back, slightly moving her wispy dress with it.

"You'll find your legs and feet are similarly disposed; merely to support you."

As he finished his sentence, she tried to move anything below her knees. She found it was futile to even try. Sam began to accept her predicament, but she was not going to give up.

His head left her back and she felt cold where it had been, like his body had been on fire. There were a few moments where he said and did nothing. In that time, she had a glimpse of a scenario where he would just leave her cuffed to her desk for her co-workers to find in the morning. That brought a small amount of relief to her and spared her the myriad torments her mind was also concocting.

In fact, Corvin was admiring her backside. "Pink," he quietly mused to himself. "Yes, my money will remain on pink."

A thought of a roulette-like game where the ball landed on a color and the female operator of the game had to put on that color of panties amused him. He smiled in the darkness at his cleverness. Not only had he arranged this tryst, but he had also invented a new game.

Both of them came out of their collective worlds when Corvin daintily grasped the bottom of her dress between his forefinger and thumb on both hands, and carefully raised it. The sensation to Samantha was like a cool breeze tickling her thighs and not immediately recognizable for what it was. Only when he laid the bottom of her garment onto her back did she realize that he was exposing her rear.

"Hmpf," he scoffed in irritation. "Orange. I was way off. Well, the imagination does tend to veer more towards fancy than reality."

Corvin stood back and admired his work. There she was, the most untouchably, unapproachably, beautiful creature he had seen in a long time, waiting for him.

"I apologize for this, mon petit pois, but it must be done."

She looked behind her expecting the worst. When she saw the scissors in his hand, her trepidation rose to new heights.

"Oh God, no! You said you wouldn't hurt me!" She bellowed.

"You wound me," he replied and stepped closer to her vulnerable butt. "I am a man of my word."

He lifted the right corner of her panties and snipped them as if he were an artist putting the final strokes on his masterpiece. In a way, she was his swansong. Corvin had been planning this very moment, this very scenario, for months, and everything was falling together perfectly.

"Yes. Mozart's 'The Fifth' **FIX THIS** should do nicely," Corvin mused to himself.

Behind her perfect tush, he indulged in a flourish of the hands in rhythm with the related piece of music in his head. He even allowed himself to twirl and approach her again as a dancer approaching his partner; or a hunter stalking his prey.

Finally, close enough, he cut the left corner of her panties with as much care as he had shown on the right. Her feet being several inches apart and given the musculature of her legs, the panties freed themselves from her most intimate area with Corvin's final snip.

He was forced to take two steps back. Breathtaking beauty beyond his extremely vivid imagination. **FIX THIS** Perfect, alabaster buttocks, and nestled between her illustrious thighs was the valley Corvin knew would make him complete; the culmination of his journey. The animalistic side of him wanted to take her then and there, to ravish her in every way possible until he thought he could never cum again! One step forward was all that was allowed before he stopped himself.

"All things in its time," he whispered. "The gift unwrapped and untouched is twice as satisfying later."

"Listen, Corvin," she spoke gently, as a teacher would to a child who had made a simple mistake, "let me up now, and I can help you. A blowjob or a handjob. Something. This doesn't have to happen like this. I would happily do those things. Not like this."

He smiled, never taking his eyes off his present. "You are bargaining. This is like the stages of grief. Only a few more steps before you reach acceptance."

**FIX THIS** He lifted her bra **FIX THIS**

She hung her head in resignation and tried in vain to raise her torso or move her feet.

"You will get caught. You know that, right?"

"Denial," he calmly stated.

"Not like this, Corvin. Let it be willingly," she pleaded.

"It will be," he suavely said. "Trust me."

She turned her head to watch her captor as he danced from behind to her left side. With a twirl and some flamboyant arm gestures, he grabbed her short stool on wheels. Corvin smiled at her seductively as he danced with the stool as if it were his partner at a ball. She shifted her gaze from him to her hands. The light did not allow her to see what bound them to her desk, but she was unable to move either.

The light gently wrapped around her hanging, right breast enough to give an outline of its form. Men had always been mesmerized by the size of her breasts, regardless of how hard she tried to cover and conceal them. She caught them sneaking a peek when they thought she wasn't paying attention.

Corvin, on the other hands, hadn't been able to peel his eyes off her from the moment he entered her office. Even now, he wondered if his mental dance partner was jealous of the attention he was giving to his half-naked gem.

The music that filled his mind was coming to a crescendo, meaning the dance was nearly over. He sat on the stool and spun himself as he pressed the lever to lower it to its shortest setting.

"Perfect," he thought. "Just perfect. Everything in its place," Corvin mused as he wheeled himself under Samantha as if she were a bridge.

She glared at him as he spun himself to face her. They could only see one eye of each other through her cleavage. She wondered what he was doing, but there was no mistaking the lust Sam saw in his eye. As he smiled out of one corner of his mouth, she thrust her chin up and tightly closed her eyes in anticipation of whatever was to come.

The man in control turned himself underneath of her, careful not to touch her in any way. It still was not time to open his present, despite every molecule in him calling for it. He leaned his head back so that his lips were mere centimeters from her right nipple and whispered hot breath onto it, "Acceptance."

Samantha hoped that tightening her eyelids could somehow block his actions, but he had happened upon on of her most sensitive areas. Even the touch of his whisper was enough to bring her body to alert. She thought it was like a blind person whose other senses were heightened. Samantha was stronger than he was, and she would not allow him the satisfaction of an alert body. She opened her eyes and turned her head to watch him.

He lulled his head to face her left nipple. "Everything in its own time," he whispered again to his target. With merely his breath and leaving her completely untouched, he began to see the signs of her arousal.

He smiled with great satisfaction. Then, with a slow and deliberate movement, his mouth was in line with her right nipple. It stood out and called to him, but he was not ready to answer.

Samantha saw his tongue snake out of his mouth and hover impossibly near her breast. It was so close she could feel the heat pouring off of it. But why did he stop? It was right there. She could almost feel the sickening dampness of it, but it just hung there for uncountable moments.

"I wish he'd just get this over with," she angrily thought. The anticipation was painful for both of them.

Finally, he raised his head up and made contact. Not with her very erect nipple, but with her areola. Corvin circled it tirelessly. She began to unconsciously arch her back and wiggle her hips. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Just when she thought he'd never stop, he slyly made his way to her other breast to give it the same treatment.

Her areolas were probably just as sensitive as the next woman's, but her nipple was a different story. It connected directly to her clit and the pleasure center of her brain, but this bastard wouldn't touch them for anything! She felt herself becoming just as angry as she was - albeit unwillingly - aroused.

Corvin stopped his extremely thorough tour of her areola, slowly pulled his tongue back into his mouth, and blew on her left breast. She shivered in anger. Or was it sexual frustration. They were one and the same for her now.

Her tormenter slowly lifted his head so that both of her breasts caressed his face. The coarseness of his stubble increased her frustration as it did nothing for her physically. Corvin gently listed from one side to the other so that her hanging breasts touched every part of his face.

When he felt that he had had his fill, he centered himself in her lovely valley and waited. The warmth and heaviness of her breasts made him wish he could spend his remaining years there.

Sam waited for whatever was next. What kind of torture awaited her now? Why had he stopped again? Was this his plan, to start her engine and then leave her unsatisfied? She shook her torso in impatience, not realizing that it only made Corvin happier

"Hey," she jolted herself to wake him up. "Did you fall asleep? Let's go. Get it over with you sick fuck. Do me, or whatever it is you came here to do!" She screamed.

With the ultimate grin, he rolled the stool backwards so that they were face to face. She glared at him expectantly.

"Well?" She spat. "Get on with it!"

"And," he cooed gleefully, "willingness."

She growled as he began to kiss a path down her body towards her navel and circled it once with soft kisses, then he continued his trek into her panty line, and finally arrived at her pubic mound. He stopped again.

The first half of his journey, Samantha was furious and could barely even feel his lips. When he reached her navel, her anger turned back into excitement and anticipation. Breaking that invisible border into her panty line awakened her body and brought her right back to the arousal she was at when he teased her nipples. His final kiss, mere centimeters from her most sacred area, and the hesitation, caused her to crash right back into rage. Like an amputee can still feel the lost limb, she felt his non-existent, phantom kisses on her labia and beyond.

Looking directly at the center of his present to himself, Corvin brought both hands up to the backs of her knees. With fluid motions, he caressed up and down the backs of her legs. Raising his palms so that only his fingertips remained in contact with her, he flowed from her knee, up her thigh, and over the slopes of her rear. The light touches made her involuntarily shudder and goosebumps to form all over her body. Samantha mewled softly.

Returning the entirety of his hands to her thighs, Corvin leaned forward. He was already able to detect the scent of her arousal. With his nose, he traced a line around her labia eventually through it, gently separating the delicate petals.

He thrust the stool to the side with such ferocity that Sam jumped when it bounced off of the side wall. On his knees beneath her, he began to explore her with his tongue, always careful not to touch her inflamed clitoris. She squirmed left, right, forward and back to try to force him to the epicenter of her need, but he relentlessly refused to bring her relief.

"All things in its time," he thought to himself.

Just when he felt her thighs tighten, when she could bear no more punishment, he circled her clit with his tongue and sojourned his hands to cup her breasts. She began to thrust uncontrollably as he pinched her nipples and gently captured her saluting soldier ruthlessly between his teeth and attacked the head with his tongue.

Moments passed for Sam where the world, breathing, standing, and emotions had no meaning for her. It could have been minutes or years; all she knew was that someone or something else had taken over her body and that her consciousness was merely along for the tumultuous ride. The one thing she was sure of was that she was still upright by the power of the handcuffs he had secured her with. They were her only link to reality.

As her body started to return to her, several distinct sensations and thoughts came to the forefront of her mind. First was the rivulet of warmth running down the inside of her thigh and beginning to pool at her feet. She'd heard of "squirting" women, but never knew herself to be one. It was hardly a squirt, if that, indeed was what she was experiencing.

Second were the words he spoke at the beginning of this ordeal. Corvin had said that her legs and arms were merely there to support her. Never had a more true statement been uttered by human lips, as she had just experienced, by also his statement that she would eventually reach acceptance of the situation. He had brought her far past acceptance to some sort of primal, lurid need.

"Squeeze me."

It was a whisper on the edge of her consciousness. A command? No, a request, but she couldn't quite discern its origin.

"Grip me again," he said.

Corvin! She had forgotten all about him. She looked under herself in vain for him. Where could he have gone? Did her mind-altering experience phase him from reality?

"What?" she was forced to reply meekly.

"Samantha, squeeze me," came his calm reply from behind her.

He shifted his weight slightly between his feet and she finally felt him. He was inside of her already! He must have slipped in while she was still in her throes. How long had he been there?

The how was not as important as the simple feeling of him there. Sam wanted so desperately to give him some of what he had given her, but saw that he was not completely ensconced in her folds. Samantha tried several times to move her butt back to get him all of the way in, but he shifted with her to maintain that depth. After a frustrating moment or two, he finally put both of his hands on her hips to steady him.

"I want you to squeeze me here," he said.

"I... I don't know how," she admitted quietly.

He smiled generously. "A woman should endeavor to learn as much about herself as she can. It's unfortunate that society does not encourage this. I can't very well tell you what muscles to flex, but I can give you a simple bit of advice."

"Yes. Anything."

"Cough," he continued to smile.

She looked back at him questioningly, hoping to see that he was joking. When it was blatantly apparent that he was not, she faced forward, shrugged her shoulders, and gave a timid cough.

"Larger," he added and slid ever-so-slightly deeper into her. "Harder."

She oohed and gave a larger cough. As he had hoped, she was able to feel the relevant muscles and the next grip was without the need for the cough. If it felt as good to him as it did to her, she thought, she could understand why this was what he wanted. A determined Sam tried different rhythms, tenseness of grips, and even tried a quick series to bring him pleasure.

Soon, both of them were making contented sounds. Corvin had even started to slowly thrust into her, but he never went fully in. He had worked himself into a good rhythm with her and they were working together quite nicely for mutual satisfaction.

"I'm- I'm... I'm going to cum," she said between grunts of effort.

"I'm close, too," he said as he gripped her pelvis more urgently.

After a few more repetitions, Samantha started an even larger orgasm than the last one, shortly to be followed by Corvin. As he started to twitch, he finally thrust fully into her and stayed there. That normally would have been painful for her since he had bottomed out inside of her, but she was at the point of her orgasm that she didn't even care.

The room, her desk, standing, breathing, time and everything else that was not sexual ceased to exist in their minds. They had become one warm, quivering, loving, and sated person existing only for pleasure.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he removed himself from her and shuddered because of it. Resting his weight on her hips, he regained his composure as she also started to come back to reality. Before he left her, he kissed her back in random spots.

He started to get dressed. "You can move your arms and legs again. You won't remember anything of this encounter except for how much pleasure you were given. You will act normally towards me and everyone else. This was simply a great and anonymous experience for you."

She stood up and composed herself, the whole time questioning how she was going to erect herself while she was cuffed to the desk. When she was standing upright, she wondered how he had time to remove the cuffs. Come to think of it, she mused, she wasn't sure she had been restrained at all.

"This, by the way," he added as he casually exited the office, "is position 2. You will remember that."

She knew she would.

When he was gone, she shook her head slightly and assessed her circumstance. Naked, moist, and all of her papers swept off of her desk. What had just happened? Sam rubbed her wrists. She stretched her back, picked up her clothes, and fetched the chair from the corner of her office.

"Well, whatever it was," she told the open air, "I am glad it happened. I'd trade a little stiffness for that amount of satisfaction any day of the week."