New Story "The Transgression" By Edbun (MF, light Ds, spank) <*>
Edbun
By Edbun
Copyright 1999
This story is copyrighted by the author. It is intended for the enjoyment of
individuals and may not be archived beyond a personal electronic copy, nor
may it be reposted with the exceptions of the following conditions. Special
permission is granted for distribution through Usenet groups alt.sex.stories
and alt.sex.stories.moderated. Further, it may be archived through the
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website, please contact the author.
Comments are always welcome and strongly encouraged at:
edb...@my-dejanews.com
Remember Celeste's "Blowjob Principle"!!
The Transgression
By Edbun
Copyright 1999
"Christine" crackled the intercom on her desk, "you're wanted upstairs."
"Oh, no" she cringed, "here it comes."
"Diane says Mr. Edmonds wants to see you."
"OK,....thanks Judy" Christine answered quietly. She looked blankly at her
phone, her mind running through how she had come to be here and what she
should do now.
The big boss. Now she was done for. She had never been to a meeting that he
was in. Everyone knew him, of course. He ran the whole company. He was a very
powerful and successful man. But he worked with all of the vice-presidents
and directors, not people who got off the elevator on the 4th floor. He
almost never came down to accounting, down into the maze of office dividers
and desks. To be called to his office was not good. Not good at all.
Christine sighed and stood to slip into the jacket of her suit. "I better not
keep him waiting," she said to no one. She smoothed her skirt and picked up a
yellow pad, then, thinking better of it, laid it back on her desk. "What, am
I going to take notes when he fires me?" She suddenly began to puddle up and
cry. She could feel her throat tighten and her face flush. "Oh, come on" she
thought, "you did this to yourself." Her false bravado calmed her enough that
she could keep from completely breaking down. She opened her eyes wide and
started blinking to dry her tears before they ruined her mascara. Swallowing
hard, she started through the department to the elevator.
"What was I thinking? I was never going to get away with it!" She shook her
head at her own stupidity and pressed the elevator call button. You would
think tapping into the petty cash would be considered a petty issue. Not so.
Her boss treated it very seriously and reported her to the suits upstairs,
and she knew now that he should have. She screwed up and deserved what she
got. If only she was independently wealthy, she could do without this silly
job. If only she hadn't just bought her new Acura. If only she didn't really
need this job.
As she glided up into the rare air of the executive offices, she began to
imagine what might happen. "Mr. Edmonds is a fair man. Even nice" she thought
hopefully. "Maybe this will work out after all." Then, shaking her head
crossly, "What am I thinking! The fair thing to do is to fire me!"
She stepped off the elevator on 17 and crossed the executive lobby to the desk
where Diane sat.
"I'm here to see Mr. Edmonds," she said glumly.
"Yes. Christine, isn't it?" Diane asked.
"Yes," Christine answered, forcing a weak smile.
"He said to bring you right back. Follow me please." Diane led Christine
through some very large wood doors with huge doorknobs and down a long hall.
There was dark walnut paneling and an impossibly long Oriental rug along the
entire length they walked. Diane reached for the matching huge doorknob on one
of the matching doors at the far end of the hall and slowly pulled the door
aside, then stepped in.
"Christine Marstaff to see you, sir" she announced. Her voice sounded small in
the size of the room into which she had stepped.
"Thank you, Diane" came a voice from within. "You may leave us."
Diane stepped aside and motioned Christine into the office. Christine walked
slowly and a little timidly across the threshold and into the huge room. She
looked quickly around as Diane closed the door behind her.
She was at the end of a high-ceilinged rectangular office. Tall windows ran
from near the floor to the crown moldings along the entire left wall. To the
right was a large, antique carved wood bar with expensive-looking bottles on
it's many shelves. Past that, in the corner, was a pair of burgundy leather
couches facing toward two sides of a cocktail table that was easily 7 feet
square. Centered straight ahead was a desk that could have easily displayed
her new car on its surface, if not for the antique Tiffany lamps at each
front corner. The walls were covered with dark walnut paneling and the floor
was thickly padded with more oriental rugs.
Leaning against the center of the front of the desk was a strong and powerful
figure of a man. He was impeccably dressed in what appeared to be an Italian-
tailored, silk, double-breasted suit with Gucci loafers over expensive hose on
his feet.
"Come in please" he said, although it sounded more like a command than an
invitation. Christine started toward him and immediately tried to read his
expression. She desperately wanted to know where she stood. She quickly
realized that she was hopelessly outclassed trying to read the face of a man
who had been as successful in business as he had. He looked deep into her eyes
and Christine had to look away. She felt like a schoolgirl as she approached
him with her eyes downcast, watching her own steps across the rug.
She stopped when she was several feet away from his desk and waited for him to
speak.
"I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Christine." His voice
was surprisingly warm, almost caring, and Christine looked up reflexively. He
was looking at her like some fatherly figure that had caught his child in
some transgression and was going to have to mete out a punishment. The image
of a father would have been easier for her to accept if not for the fact that
they were apparently very close in age. He looked at first glance like he was
in his early or mid-thirties, but was likely somewhat older. Christine
suddenly felt very ashamed, to be here in these circumstances with this very
attractive man.
"I have reviewed your personnel file with Ms. Gartman, Christine. You have
done well for me," he paused and allowed a slight smile. ".....for us. Your
contributions have been more than acceptable." He paused again. "This,
however, is not acceptable. Not acceptable at all."
Christine was beginning to shuffle from one foot to the other now as he looked
at her disapprovingly.
"I cannot allow something like this to go uncorrected. I think you understand
that."
'Well, I guess this is it,' thought Christine, 'I'm out of a job.'
"Our policy," he continued, "in a situation like this is, of course, to
immediately terminate the employment of one who behaves like you have."
Christine looked down and nodded silently.
He continued, "We also are required to notify the proper authorities and
prosecute the offender to the fullest extent possible."
Her head snapped back up and she stared at him wide-eyed as he finished.
"Theft is still against the law, Christine, and the law still reaches into
these walls."
Christine's mind was reeling. "A criminal record? No, no, please.... I
can't...." she started. "I've never been in trouble with the police. Not at
all! Please!"
Mr. Edmonds came towards her as she spoke, not enjoying the problems he was
causing her.
"I'm sorry Christine. Really, I am. I know how serious this is." He was close
to her now, but unwilling to reach out to comfort her. He understood how the
laws about sexual harassment had changed things.
"The courts will probably be very lenient with you. I'm sure you won't spend
any time in jail. Probably a fine, or community service," he offered. "The
part I feel worst about is how difficult this will make it for you to get a
job."
The realization hit Christine like a ton of bricks. Her life, her apartment,
her car! All of her things! She needed money!
"Please, Mr. Edmonds! Please?! Can't we find another way? I can make it up to
the company! I'll make it up to you! Please!?" She was puddling up again,
trying to stay professional and still appeal to his softer side.
"I can't Christine. The policy is clear."
Christine started to cry. "Oh, no! Please, sir, please! I promise; I'll do
better! I'll do anything!"
He looked at her with genuine pity for several moments, watching her shoulders
shake with her sobs. Finally, he sighed and came closer and spoke to her.
"Christine, I believe very strongly in correcting mistakes and holding my
employees accountable. Your response today, however, has pushed me to make you
an offer that I rarely have. I will give you another option, if you wish. You
can decide for yourself. I have no interest in which way you choose.
Understand?"
"Ye, eh, eh, yesss," Christine said, trying to control her voice through her
crying.
"If you wish, I can apply corporal punishment to this situation. I believe
that, if properly applied, it will both correct your ways and punish you for
your wrongdoing."
"What do you mean?" Christine stammered. "Corporal punishment?"
He sighed again and spoke softly, "Spanking. A spanking, Christine," he
replied.
Her eyes were again wide with disbelief. "A what?! I,...I don't think so!"
"I'm sorry to hear that, really," he replied remorsefully as he walked around
the end of the desk, "I think it would have been the better option for you."
He picked up his phone and pressed a button.
"Wait!" Christine said, then a long pause. "Oh, OK, that's what I'll do!"
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Christine set her jaw. "Yes," she replied firmly, "I'll take a spanking. When
do we do this?"
He looked at her for several moments, testing her resolve, waiting for her to
react to this situation.
"When do we do this?" she repeated, somewhat arrogantly, then remembering who
she was speaking to, quietly adding "sir."
He smiled and hung up as he answered her. "Now will be fine. Are you ready?"
Christine gulped and nodded.
"Come over here then, Christine," he said as he motioned her toward the
leather couches in the corner. She moved quietly across the room as he had
directed. For some reason, she again felt like the disobedient schoolgirl and
found herself looking at the floor as she walked.
"Sit down and wait for me," he said firmly. He walked over to the bar and
reached into a low cupboard behind one of the elegantly carved doors. After
rummaging for a moment, he stood and walked toward Christine carrying a small
paddle in one hand.
It was not small like a Ping-Pong paddle, but probably twice that size and
shaped more like the kind of paddle with which they pull pizzas out of an
oven. A broad, square face, but a short handle. It was nicely finished like
fine furniture, matching most of the other woodwork in the room. He laid it
on the cocktail table directly in front of her, then turned and sat beside
Christine. She looked at it with a great deal of trepidation and surprise and
turned to him, "I thought you would use your hand."
He shook his head, "No, that's not the right way to do this. Remember how I
said that this needs to be properly applied? If I apply punishment with my
hand, you will associate my hands with the pain." Christine cringed a little
at the word 'pain'. "I don't want anyone to associate my hands with pain.
When they see a paddle like this one, then they are free to associate the
paddle with pain. But not my hands." He looked deep into her eyes.
"Understand?"
Christine looked at his eyes as she nodded. He was a little mysterious and
quite attractive and she was getting a little lost in his eyes as she sat this
close to him. His eyes were a very deep, sky blue color. Not too pale. More
like the blue on a cold, clear winter day. A rich, powerful blue, which made
sense of course. He was a very rich and powerful man. She was starting to feel
a little out of breath, as if she was running on a little adrenaline. There
were butterflies in her stomach. Was it the spanking she was about to receive,
or was it this man?
"I'll need you to bend over my knee now, Christine."
She looked at him cautiously.
"It's really the best way to do this," he answered her look. Christine stood
and smoothed her skirt nervously and turned toward him as he moved forward to
sit just on the edge of the cushion. She was trying to figure out the best way
to lie across his knees with her heels and tailored suit when he spoke again.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Christine?" He looked her in the eye and
then pointedly moved his glance to her skirt before looking back at her eyes.
Christine looked confused as he raised his eyebrows and waited for a
response.
"Oh no, it couldn't be!" she thought, "he wants me to take off my skirt!" She
looked down at him with a bit of a pleading look and asked him, "Do I have
to?"
"Again, Christine, we have to do this correctly. Please," he said, again a
little like a command.
Christine sighed and turned away from his eyes, then reached behind her back
and unzipped her skirt. She tugged it past her hips and stepped out of it one
leg at a time. She turned back and saw him looking at her a little impatiently
when she realized that she still wore a slip. It too was removed and she stood
in front of him in panties and heels from the waist down. She looked into his
eyes for some response, some reaction. She wanted him to show some approval of
her, her legs, her body. She had never offered herself to a man like this
without some response of approval. He sensed her question and nodded his
approval, "Very nice, ...very nice."
She smiled with delight for the first time since she had been caught and in a
moment it struck her how odd it was that she was here, almost half-naked and
about to be spanked, but wanting the bearer of her torment to approve of, even
desire her body. All of a sudden, she was feeling very sexual.
She slowly lowered herself to her knees and reached out to lay her hands on
his thigh as she looked to him demurely for some kind of direction. He smiled
at her and patted his knee as to encourage her to climb up and get started.
"Okay," she thought, "here we go." She climbed across his knees and lay
there, her arms reaching to the floor on one side and her legs stretched
behind her to the other. She was trying to support herself using her hands on
the rug near his shoes and her feet pushing her up from below. She wanted him
to think she was feather-light on his knees as she struggled slightly with
her slippery shoes to press forward and raise her own weight. He was paying
little attention.
He looked down at her tight and smooth rear covered with a comfortable pair of
cotton, low-rise panties. It was a nice ass, not large at all, even tiny. Very
nicely shaped too. He took his hand and gently laid it on her panties, causing
her to jump just a little. He liked the soft feel of the cotton and the firm,
smooth feel of her skin underneath. He was expecting a cool touch, maybe
because of the cotton, but he was a little surprised by the warmth that rose
from her. He started to gently stroke her, moving his hand lightly over the
rounded forms that were directly in front of him. Lovely.
Christine was afraid of the pain. Afraid that he would begin this and hurt
her and never appreciate what it took to display herself like this to him. As
she lay and waited, she began to fantasize about a romantic interlude
starting this way. When she felt his hand on her ass, she jumped from
anticipation, half- expecting a hard, painful swat. She did not expect him to
start to stroke her ass sensuously through her panties.
"Oh, no!" she realized, "not these panties!" They were so plain, so
'comfortable'. She had forgotten what she had chosen that morning. She had
'date panties' for special occasions; flimsy, tiny, sexy panties that would
make most men salivate. "Why couldn't I have worn different panties today!"
she thought as she rolled her eyes at herself. Her thoughts were forgotten as
she was feeling Mr. Edmonds beginning to squeeze each cheek with some force.
"Yes. This is very good. Very, very good," he was saying quietly. Christine
didn't know if he was speaking to her or not, but she still squeaked out a
quiet, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Christine" came the warm reply. "You certainly take good care
of yourself. You must work out often. I appreciate that."
It struck her how he seemed to be expressing appreciation for her efforts to
keep herself fit, as if she was doing it for him. The thought strangely
appealed to her. The idea of working out to keep herself fit for a man like
this was making her smile. It was also making butterflies in her stomach
again.
He stroked her slowly and softly from the high waist of her panties down each
side, one at a time, to where her thighs left the leg openings and were
bared. He paused there before moving to the other side and starting again.
After several strokes, Christine was beginning to fidget just a touch across
his lap. Not a lot, but she certainly could not keep still. This continued
for several caresses until, as he stroked her, he moved slowly across her
tight, cotton- covered skin and came to rest just at the crease where her ass
met her thigh. Again he paused, then slowly and deliberately continued his
stroke, over the hem and across the smooth, tender skin and toward the back
of her knees.
His fingertips were warm and even slightly moist, tugging gently at her skin
as they glided down her leg. He stopped just above her knee and grasped her
there, squeezing her firmly as if testing her tone.
"Mmmmm, very nice," he said. "You've done well."
"Thank you," Christine whispered through moist, parted lips. She was breathing
very erratically now and was concentrating completely on the travels of the
hands of this man. This man whose knee she was lying across.
"What is happening to me?" she thought as she could feel her thighs flush, her
heat building under his hand. His hand moved slowly back up her thigh until it
again reached the hem of her panties. Again, it paused.
"Oh," Christine thought, "what if he....." Her mind was imagining his hand
sliding deftly beneath the cotton and cupping her.....
"I need....," he interrupted her thoughts, "we....," he paused, "need to
remove these." He patted her softly on her boring, everyday underwear and
rested his hand there. Christine thought he might be waiting for some kind of
response, some kind of argument from her. Her emotions had completely taken
control of the whole situation now and she remained facing the floor and
nodded her head.
It made him smile for a moment before he reached both hands to the waistband
and began to pull them over her buns. Christine pushed her stomach away from
his thighs by bridging her body between her high-heeled pumps and her hands
on the other side. The panties were slid across her ass and started down her
thighs as they were turned inside out by the pull on the waistband as her
inner thighs held them at the crotch. When they were stretched fully across
the backs of her thighs, the crotch eventually gave way and they moved
quickly toward her feet. He pushed them to her ankles and reached back to pat
her gently on her upraised and bare cheeks. Christine hesitated a moment
before she realized what he wanted, then relaxed against his thighs again as
her downy patch made contact with the soft fabric of his pants. She kicked
the panties free and lay across his lap submissively.
Christine shivered there a moment as she reviewed the situation she was in.
Here she was, completely nude from the waist down except, of course, for her
shoes. She was draped across the lap of a rich, powerful and very attractive
man who was completely clothed under her. She was waiting for him to take his
pound of flesh, his due reward, by spanking her with a small, wooden paddle.
She was willing and, most interestingly, she was very excited. Her nipples had
been erect nearly since the moment she had looked into his eyes. Her thighs
were warm and her labia were swollen. She felt as if she had been with a lover
for a wonderful, passionate time of foreplay leading to this point. Her pussy
was very, very wet and she was beginning to feel that she needed to be filled
in order to be satisfied.
She was lost in the feelings that were emanating from her exposed skin. The
warmth, the tingling and the submissive position were combining to cause her
head to swim. Her reverie was warm and heady and she was adrift in the moment,
until...
Crack! The sound caused her to jump a half of a second before the impact even
registered in her mind. The impact caused her to jump again and then was
followed by the recognition of the sting that the paddle had caused. She
wasn't even aware that he had picked it up from the table.
"Ouch!" she said, mostly to herself. Then, crack! Another swat landed and the
stinging spread and intensified.
"Ouch!" she said loudly this time, turning her head to glare at him. His eyes
were looking straight at her, fixing her in place. Her glare was returned by a
look that combined stern discipline and rising passion. He was obviously
determined to finish the punishment, but was just as obviously determined to
enjoy it. Once again, she tried to look past his eyes into his mind to
understand him and his intentions. She failed like her previous attempt,
feeling quite submissive suddenly and casting her eyes to the floor.
He smiled at her reaction as he pulled his right leg from under her hips and
easily shifted her body to his left leg. He then crossed his right leg over
her thighs, pinning them beneath it. She was now effectively immobilized, her
ass easily within reach of the paddle in his right hand, her hips on his left
thigh and her head near the floor to his left. He reached across her back
with his left arm and held her tightly to him as he began a quick series of
swats moving from cheek to cheek.
Christine began to squirm hard now, trying to escape the burn that was
covering her ass with each swing of his arm. She was jumping and twisting
with every swat but was completely unable to escape contact. Her captivity
sent a rush through her as she began to pant heavily in time with his swings.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she moaned, her breasts swaying with her movements and
her nipples tingling against her bra. She could feel her juices flowing
copiously from between her legs and beginning to trickle down her thighs. She
was surprised to feel that intense tingle from her pussy that signaled the
beginning of that familiar climb to orgasm. She reached out to his left leg
and held it tight with both arms to steady herself against his strong impacts
as she held her eyes firmly shut to enjoy the moment. She could feel his leg
between her breasts as she hugged him to her. She was again lost in the
moment.
Christine was in brand-new territory now. She was feeling so cared for, so
special to this man. Her heart was fluttering and her body was responding to
his every movement with a desire to be what he wanted. She wanted to be what
he wanted. Her pussy was clasping for something, hoping for contact, for
penetration. She was close now, the tingles from her ass had spread over her
body from her breasts to her knees. She felt so sensitive, so alive.
Without warning, he stopped his swings and the room fell very quiet.
Christine still panted heavily with her arousal, the sounds of her breathing
echoed in his office. She moaned loudly as she realized that the stimulation
she had been feeling was stopped. The paddle was resting against her bare ass
and she could feel its coolness against her hot, tender skin. Her pussy cried
out for satisfaction, twitching and tingling with need.
He eventually placed the paddle back on the table in front of him and returned
his bare hand to rest on her cherry red cheeks. It hadn't been a hard, cruel
spanking, she realized, and the speed of the swats was tempered by their
relatively light touch. It was certainly painful, but not as bad as she had
expected.
His hand then moved across her skin, feeling her heat and the twitching and
jerking of her muscles as he fingered her sensitive skin. It made him smile to
see her lift her body up to him, reaching for more contact. Her ass stretched
off of his leg as he relaxed his grip on her to allow her wanton display. He
allowed his fingers to stray between her buns and graze dangerously close to
her rosebud ass and wet, soft pussy, causing Christine to moan again and push
her ass even higher, begging for relief.
"We are finished, Christine". The words splashed her across her face, like ice
water to her heat.
"What?" Christine looked up at him with a look of surprise. "We're done?
That's it??" She looked back to the floor, her mind racing. "We can't be
finished!" she thought, unwilling to conclude. She was so close to climax and
now was left so,.... so,.....unsatisfied.
"I don't think I've learned my lesson!" she blurted out, "I need some more!"
She looked over her shoulder into his eyes, pleading with him to help her out
of this. He was slightly smiling now, warm and kind, a little amused and still
genuinely concerned for her situation.
Christine spoke haltingly as she lay across his knee, looking into his
eyes. "Please, Mr. Edmonds....I need......more. I need you to..." she was
openly pleading now. "More, ......please?"
He looked at her for a long time, rolling the possibilities over in his mind.
The seconds ticked by as Christine implored him with her eyes to complete the
act they had begun and allow her release.
With a sigh and a smile, he reached across her and lifted the paddle from the
table as he spoke, "You need to cum, don't you Christine?" Christine closed
her eyes and turned her head toward the floor, perfectly still for a moment
before nodding vigorously.
"Yes, please?" she begged quietly.
He moved his right leg from over her legs and reached his right arm, still
holding the paddle, under them to lift her legs easily. He slid his right leg
back under her hips and draped her body across his lap. She was no longer
restrained and she began to breathe heavily with anticipation. His eyes roamed
over her body, appreciating her curves and the contrast of her reddened skin
with her white, smooth thighs.
"Stand up, Christine" he said quietly.
"Why?" Christine responded quickly, "Aren't you going to......"
"Stand up, Christine!" he said again, this time with the command returned to
his voice. Christine sighed as she stood before him, avoiding his gaze and
looking for her clothes.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Christine?"
Christine's eyes grew wide as she turned to look at him. He was looking her in
the eyes, then to her jacket, then back to her eyes, raising his eyebrows
expectantly. Christine realized it was the exact same look he had given her
when he wanted her to......
"He wants me naked!" Christine thought gleefully. "He wants my jacket, and my
blouse and my bra!" Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him, then quickly
looked at the floor deferentially, still smiling.
He also smiled when he saw in her eyes that she had realized what he wanted
of her. Christine slipped out of her jacket and fumbled a little with the
buttons of her blouse as she tried to quickly strip for him. He was waiting
patiently, but she wanted to please him so much now. She hoped that he liked
what he saw and was a little afraid that he may not. She was, after all, not
Playboy material. She saw herself as cute, tight and fun. "Maybe that's what
he likes," she thought hopefully.
She finished her undressing and threw her bra on what was now a pile of her
clothes on the leather sofa behind her. She was standing fully naked, except
for her shoes, in front of this man, this strong, mysterious, attractive,
fully clothed man. She was trembling with arousal, her ass tingling from the
strokes she had taken, her heated skin red and tender. Her pussy was
completely soaked, her nipples as hard as she had ever remembered them and
she was waiting, simply waiting for him to tell her what to do.
He looked her straight in the eye, his intense blue eyes boring deep into her
soul. She was completely unable to read him, as she had learned. But she was
unable to look away this time. He had her transfixed, frozen under his gaze.
After he had looked deep into her eyes, he started to move across her body,
lingering here and there, taking in every curve, every inch. His eyes traced
her shoulders and upper arms, then her breasts and nipples before moving
across her stomach to her hip, appreciating the curve of her ass that peeked
out at him. Then down her thigh to her calves, lingering again, then her
ankles and feet for a long time before sweeping up to the soft, downy patch
at her center. He noticed how wet and swollen she was there and smiled just a
little before looking her straight in her eye again.
"Come here," he said softly as he patted his knee. Christine stepped quickly
toward him and kneeled next to his legs. His voice had been soft but there
was still some of that command that she had picked up, somewhere in his
voice. She again laid her hands on his thigh and lifted herself with her legs
to drape her body across his lap. She reached out with her hands and steadied
herself on the floor, completely exposed to him now.
He slowly, languidly, stroked her ass with the face of the paddle. It was
teasing her, promising a conclusion but not finishing its job. Eventually, he
decided that the paddle was just not personal enough and didn't fit well into
what he intended to do. He laid it on the table and reached back to her.
His hand rested easily on her ass, just slightly squeezing her cheek, not so
anyone might have noticed but just enough for her to feel. It was as if he
was resting his hand on the hand-hammered panel of a beloved exotic
automobile. One that everyone knew was not to be touched except by the owner
himself. A pampered, shined and beautiful possession built to be driven fast
and lovingly. It made her feel strangely happy and a little short of breath.
He began to caress and stroke her bare skin, taking his time and moving
deliberately as he explored her curves and swells and creases. His fingers
moved easily between her buns and tugged gently across her tight rosebud,
causing her to gasp unexpectedly. She realized that she had responded to his
touch and quickly shushed herself, but not before he had heard and raised his
eyebrows just a little, making a mental note. His fingers continued lower and
deeper and found the wet, warm and swollen flesh that begged for release.
Christine was so very needy at this moment that as his fingers began to
caress her folds, she began to moan quietly. Just a low, guttural expression
of her desperate desire for completion of what was begun earlier. His fingers
were slipping up and down, tracing her slit and spreading her ample
lubrication over her entire pussy, wetting her curls and leaving little wet
traces on her ass and thighs. She was so very wet now, and her pussy was
starting to twitch and wink at his touch.
She was losing her control now, completely lost in this moment. She again
reached back with her arms and pulled her body to his leg, hugging it between
her now bare breasts. She felt the cool silk of his suit on the hot skin
between her breasts. She drew her knees up, encircling his legs with her body
and opening herself up to his hands as much as possible.
He began to stroke her more rapidly now, starting a quick rhythm and causing
her to begin to pant in time.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah" She could feel her body responding to him again. His
fingers were stroking directly across her clit, rolling it from side to side
as they passed over. She could feel the vague beginnings of an approaching
climax and hoped that she would be allowed to finish this time. Suddenly, and
without warning, his fingers quickly skewered her as he drove two long digits
deep into her in one stroke. She was immediately overcome by an intense
climax, spasming on his fingers again and again as she soaked her thighs and
his knee with her juices.
"Ohhhhh! Yes, yes, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, no! Yes..." she moaned as she felt him
hold her, totally controlling her at this moment with just two fingers.
As she slowly began to recover, he started to thrust his fingers slowly in
and out, gently rubbing her tight and swollen pussy as she clutched at him
and squeezed her eyes shut. The feelings that were washing over her were
making her shake and tremble on his lap. He reached across her back with his
other hand and steadied her there as he increased the pace of his fingers
taking her from behind. Christine could hear the wet, sloppy noises that his
hand was causing in her pussy as he pulled, pushed and twisted, tickling her
in all the right places. He stroked the inside of her, then her lips, then
again inside. He twisted and curled and pushed and played, stretching and
probing and making her gasp.
Christine was getting very close again and was trying to press her ass back
against his hand to increase the contact that they were sharing. The
butterflies in her stomach were making her head dizzy as the waves of
pleasure from her pussy washed over her nude body. Just as she was nearing
her climax again, he pulled his hand from across her back and found her
breast, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, the added
stimulation pushed her quickly over the edge.
"Ohhhhhhh! I'm coming again! Ohhhhhhhh....." Her body jumped and spasmed,
twitching uncontrollably across his lap. He held her there and pulled at her
nipple as he pushed his fingers deep into her. She was bucking and moaning and
coming harder and harder. His hands were simultaneously holding her in place
and making her continue to climax over and over.
Eventually, her passion ended and her cries quieted. Soon after, her
breathing slowly began to return to normal. She was still bent nearly double
over his legs, her pretty ass in the air and her juices spread liberally over
her from her waist to her ankles. He loved the look of this beautiful
creature spread so sweetly before him. He pulled his hands away from her core
and her breast and leaned back on the sofa to get a fuller view of her body.
It made him smile, just for a moment. With a nod of approval, he leaned
forward again and reached up to gently slap her ass, reminding her of how
this all began.
"Ooooooh" Christine whimpered, almost like a kitten mewing. He slapped her
again on her tender, red cheek. "Ohhhhh" she whispered.
He leaned forward now and bent his head to reach as close to her own head as
possible. He reached down and cupped her face with his hand and pulled it up
toward his own. When his lips were very near her ear, he held her steady and
slapped her ass gently one more time, then held her tightly with his hand,
squeezing her buttock firmly.
"You are mine, now," he whispered deep into her ear. It wasn't a question. It
was just true. Christine knew it to be true. She had never been so fully
possessed by a man in her entire life, and she knew it was true.
"Yesssss," she hissed quietly, nodding her head.
He held her for several moments to allow her to fully comprehend where she was
and whose she was.
"Come, Christine," he said eventually, "we must get you back to your work."
Christine shook her head and remembered the reality of her life again. Her
work, her job, her desk were all still hers. She had paid the price for her
transgression. She slowly stood and stretched her limbs a little until she
felt the blood moving into them again.
He stood next to her and motioned to her clothing, still piled on the seat of
the sofa. Christine began to dress, starting with her bra and working down
through her blouse and her jacket. It felt funny to be back in everything
except her skirt and panties, but it also reminded her of what had just
happened. She slipped her panties back into place and pulled her slip and
skirt up her legs until she looked very much like she had when she had
entered his office.
He walked away from her to the opposite end of the office and pulled open the
huge door to the hallway.
"Remember what happened here, Christine," he said with a knowing smile. "You
have been given a rare opportunity. Not many have been given what you have."
Christine smiled. She didn't really believe what he had said, of course. He
was much too skilled at this to have not had a great deal of experience. But
she liked the idea that she was special, that she was rare somehow.
Christine reached out and took his hand and shook it demurely. It was big and
warm and she could remember how it had felt on her skin. It took her back
very quickly in her mind. She stopped herself and thanked him, then turned
and stepped out into the hall. As she walked away, she could feel those eyes
following her every move, and she began to lubricate from the thought alone.
By the time she reached the far end of the hall, she heard the big office
door close quietly.
As she crossed the lobby of the 17th floor, Diane called to her.
"It was nice to see you Christine."
Christine turned and saw Diane looking at her with a warm and coy smile. "Does
she know," Christine wondered? "Could she hear me? Did she see?"
"I hope your visit was a pleasant one," Diane added quietly.
Suddenly Christine realized that Diane knew everything. Not because she had
seen, or even heard. Diane had been there. Diane was his, too.
Christine nodded, "It was. Thank you, Diane." They shared a quick glance and
Christine smiled as she turned to the elevator.
Once she was in the quiet confines of the elevator car, gliding easily toward
the 4th floor, she wondered aloud. "I wonder what other kinds of things he
might punish someone for?" Then, with a surreptitious glance around her at the
empty elevator, she smiled and started to make plans.
The End
--
Edbun <edb...@my-dejanews.com>
"When I die, I want to go quietly, like my grandfather did, in his
sleep. Not screaming, like the passengers in his car."
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