"Well, that's about it. Been pretty quiet, nothing else to report. You have a good shift, ya'hear."
"I plan to, Bob, I plan to," I replied. "See you same time tomorrow."
Bob put his flashlight and nightstick in his locker, and then waved me goodbye.
I scanned the security monitors. Nothing doing. Being the security guard for a big, downtown office block had its ups and downs, but doing night shift was definitely one of the boring bits. Nothing ever happened.
A tour of the building might help pass the time until my next donut break, I decided.
With my flashlight and trusty gun by my side, I rode the elevator upwards. Bing! 39th floor. Finkelstein and Associates, Attorneys at Law.
I opened the office door with my master key. My flashlight pierced the darkness to reveal...nothing. Of course. Just as the security cameras were showing, nothing was happening.
I locked the doors again, and went down the fire escape to the next floor down. I was a bit out of breath by the time I reached the next office. Man, I really needed to lose a bit of weight and exercise more. But then again, having a big frame was sometimes an advantage in my job.
OK, next office. Tate and Stephens Advertising Agency. Same deal: open the door, shine flashlight in, see nothing of any interest, lock door again.
I ambled slowly down to the 37th floor, housing the GoldmanSmithLynch suites. They were some big investment company, or something. I didn't really know what they did. But that didn't matter, all I needed to do was take a quick look in. Unlock the door, poke head in, wave flashlight around.
Except this time, I see something unusual. A light is on in one of the corner offices. Maybe they just forgot to turn the light off. I needed to check.
I pushed open the door to the office with the light on, and light spilled out into the rest of the suite. My eyes were so used to the darkness of the rest of the building that I was temporarily blinded by the light. When my eyes finally adjusted to the glare, I could hardly believe what I saw in front of me.
There was a woman bent over a desk. At first, I thought she was dead or unconscious, but then I saw her wriggling around on the desk. I soon realized why she was moving around like that: she was tied to the table and she was trying to get free.
My first instinct was to rush in and free her, but then I stopped and considered the situation. I looked more closely.
She was a small woman with straight black hair that was about shoulder length. She had a blindfold over her eyes, but by what I could see of her face, she was between about 25 and 30. She had full, red lips which were pouting with effort and annoyance.
She wore a knee length beige dress, all business, but looking sexy over her tight, petite body, especially with her butt wiggling about. There were ropes around the ankles of her black, knee high leather boots, each rope then tied to two of the legs of the table, making her stand with her legs spread apart. Her wrists were tied to the legs on the other side of the table, which was why she could not move from this bent over position.
I stood in the doorway savoring this delicious sight before noticing some other things. The sign on the door said 'Amy Wong, Asian Desk'. A hand written poster on the side wall said 'Welcome aboard Amy!'
The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. I may not know what this company did, but I did know its reputation. They were famous for their initiation ceremonies of new staff. More than once, security guards would have to rescue new recruits of this company from embarrassing situations. But this, I had never seen before.
I looked at the woman again. Yep, she looked Asian alright, even with the blindfold over her eyes I could still tell. Man, I loved the look of Asian chicks: their delicate, round faces, their delicate bodies, their smooth, smooth skin. I've always lusted after them, but I had never tasted oriental pussy before. None of them were particularly interested in an overweight, middle-aged dude. I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Slowly, I crept up behind her. She stopped moving, as if finally sensing my presence.
"Jim, is that you?" she asked in a thick, Chinese accent. "Barry? Steve? Let me go. You have fun. Ha ha. Let me go."
Good. She didn't know who I was. I knew I had to stay silent. I bent down slowly started lifting up the hem of her dress.
"What you doing?" she snapped as soon as she realized what was happening. "Mike? Stop it, Mike!"
She started to struggle again, but her bonds held her tightly. I had no problem lifting the dress over her round ass and bunching it around her waist.
What a sight she was now. Her relatively short but shapely legs were now completely on display. Such smooth, porcelain skin. I wanted to feel and to taste that beautiful skin right now, but I resisted the temptation. I was going to take this one slow.
Bent over the table as she was accentuated her round, pert butt. She was wearing black thong panties and her luscious cheeks were clearly on display. Her futile struggling only made her ass look sexier. Oh man, I could look at this all day!
"Let me go! Now!" she protested again. Then a stream of what sounded like Chinese cuss words spewed from her mouth.
Meanwhile, I looked around for a way to get those panties off. There was no way I could just pull them off because her legs were held so widely apart.
Eventually I found what I was looking for - a pair of scissors. I hooked one side of the panties in my left hand. Snip! The material snapped away to her other leg.
"What you doing!? Stop!"
Slowly I took hold of the other side of the panties. Snip! The thong panties fell to the floor in a small heap. She yelled some more, in a mixture of Chinese and English.
