Sharing Nicely (22 page)

“Fine.”

“Good. Now to be sure that we have an understanding get down on your knees and crawl over here.”

“What?”

“No, no, no. It’s pardon, not what.”

“Pardon?” I growled. This guy was really pressing my buttons and not in the good way.

“Look, you’re mine. You do what I tell you to first time or there will be consequences. I’m giving you this one because I’m a nice guy and you’re not used to this. The next time you defy me there will be punishment.”

Why did his stern look and promise of chastisement make my pussy clench? I didn’t know, but it did and so I slid off my chair and onto my knees. At least his room was carpeted so I sank into the deep shag pile and deeper into this crazy game. I just wished that I knew the fucking rules. I was on edge. I could feel a bead of sweat resting in the dimple above the centre of my top lip, my skin felt like it’d been pulled tighter across my flesh, everything inside felt cramped and constricted.

“Come on, pet, I’m waiting.”

I gulped. My mouth was dry and my hands were shaking. I didn’t know what awaited me around the other side of his desk, the unknown certainly and subservience. I didn’t like the idea of either. I also didn’t want to push my luck so I pushed my hands down into the luxuriant carpeting and moved slowly forward. I became much more aware of my hips and my arse than usual. They wiggled and my not so scandalous knee-length skirt rose up and exposed my thighs to the cool air.

And my boobs moved. A lot. In an upright position my sensible bra kept them in place, but on all fours they hung down and waved side to side. They threatened to burst through the buttons of my sharp, cotton shirt.

“Mm, lovely view,” he purred. I turned the corner and stopped. “I always suspected you had nice tits.”

I usually would’ve slapped a man for a comment like that but it was hard to hit anything when my hands were busy holding up half my body weight. I looked up at him and the leer he fired back made my cheeks flare with heat. I was really not used to seeing men look at me with such open lust. In fact more often than not men didn’t look at me at all. They were too scared of what I might make them do.

“Okay, sit back on your heels pet.”

It was a relief to have my breasts back in their accustomed position, though the top few buttons of my blouse had surged open so I was showing far more bra than I was happy with and funnily enough, I was wishing that I’d put on one of my lacier numbers.

“Oh, I’ve dreamed of you in this position many times,” Richard whispered, leant forward in his chair and rested his elbow on his knee. He propped his chin in his hand. “It’s much better than I ever imagined.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze and looked down at my hands that had worried themselves together in my lap.

“Okay, I’m going to give you a list of instructions and I want you to follow them to the letter without question. Any variation, alteration or protestation and I will take you over my knee and I will spank you. Clear?”

I nodded. I didn’t want to anger him further even though my stomach did a strange little flip when he said the word ‘spank’ that felt like anticipation. Why on earth would I want him to hit me, though? Why did it make excitement bubble up inside me to take his commands?

“For future notice, when I ask you a question you answer it and you call me ‘sir’ because I own you. Have you got that?”

“Yes,” I sighed, then quickly added a reluctantly growled, “sir.”

“Good. Okay, so I want you to sit down on the floor, hitch your skirt up to your waist and spread your thighs. Then masturbate, however feels comfortable. I want to watch you come, but before you do, you need to ask my permission first. Do not orgasm until I say you are allowed. If you do not comply with my command within a minute I will spank you.”

I hesitated. I knew I shouldn’t and I didn’t really want a spanking but I couldn’t get my head around what he’d asked. Could I do it? I barely knew Richard. We’d only spoken once in a blue moon and it was always about work. Could I go from that to masturbating in front of him? He fingered the paperwork on his desk and looked back at me again. He didn’t have to say anything. I knew what he was telling me. I wank in front of him or I lose my job, my career and everything I’ve worked so hard for.

I took a deep breath, shifted my legs around until they were out in front of me and hitched my skirt up to my waist. As much as I avoided looking at Richard I was painfully aware of his presence. I knew that my every move was being taken in by his hungry gaze and I hated that. How could he make me do such an intimate thing in front of him, a mere stranger? I decided he must be a sadist.

It became clear that I’d not be able to do anything more if I kept thinking about my audience. I needed to block him out and concentrate simply on the act. My job depended on my orgasm and that was the fact that I decided to focus on.

It’s very difficult to make yourself comfortable on an office floor. It’s even more difficult to make yourself comfortable enough to masturbate, but I did my best. I leant back on my right arm and moved my left hand between my thighs. I’m very left-handed. If I ever broke it I’d be lost and sexually frustrated too.

I spread my thighs and ignored the catch of his breath and the sound of him moving in his chair. I imagined I was alone and I sought out a fantasy to fuel me further. I didn’t have many because I never really got the opportunity to masturbate as much as I’d have liked. Normally I’d read a book or watch a porn clip to get me off. I was usually too lazy to think of my own sexy stories.

There was one fantasy that I could conjure up and never got bored of. It was incredibly dirty and I was always shocked that I’d get off on something so filthy. Before I even began to tell myself the story I felt my pussy clench with anticipation. I ran my finger over my knickers, just brushed over my clit and lips and felt how damp the material was already. I was sure Richard could see the dampness from his chair.

In my fantasy I was walking through the local park. It was just after sunset and darkness was falling softly. I heard the calling birds quieten and I focused in on the clap of my heels against the concrete. I’d almost be at the gate, close to being on the street and almost home when a hand would cover my mouth and I’d be dragged into the bushes.

I would never get a proper look at the man handling me, but in my mind it would be someone I knew, someone I trusted and someone who wanted to push my desires to the limits. The mystery man was tall and strong and he kissed me through the wool of his balaclava as passion exploded in the fantasy as well as inside me. I slipped my fingers into my knickers and felt how wet I was. I went back to my fantasy, pressed my fingers to my clit and imagined that I could hear the ripping sound as the man of my dreams ripped my T-shirt and revealed my bra-clad breasts and mauled them with his hands. The sounds from my dream mixed with that of reality, my deep breathing, Richard’s breath hitching and the rustle of clothes displaced. Then I felt thick fingers forced into my knickers in my fantasy and I mewled in anticipation of the unknown.

My lover pushed me down into the mud and the mulch of the border and regardless of the path running by where anyone could have walked past, that guy fucked me. He ripped down my underwear, knelt behind me and pushed his hefty cock into me. I heard the grunts and moans of my lover as if he were there in the room, and as my orgasm approached, I realised that it was Richard groaning.

I opened my eyes for a split second and saw his trousers were opened, his hard, pink cock cradled in his fingers. Richard gazed right at my cunt and, as our gazes met, I felt shame and unexplained ecstasy run through me. I shut my eyes again quickly and got back to the best bit of the fantasy.

Dream Lover pulled my hair, rode me and called me names. I wanted to be fucked like that. I wanted to be taken and wanted to lose all control. I imagined my dream lover demanding that I come. I exploded. My body scrunched up, the pleasure climax causing me to react, to shield myself. Contentment ran through my veins and I relaxed with a shuddered breath.

“Not bad for a first time,” Richard’s voice snapped me back to reality. I rapidly pulled my fingers from my wet slit, sat up and tried to smooth my skirt down my legs. “But you did completely forget my last instruction. Are you working late tonight?”

“Erm, yes. I planned to.”

“Good, so am I. Meet me here in my office at eight-thirty and I’ll give you the punishment you deserve for not following my commands correctly.”

I opened my mouth to counter with something vicious and stinging, but then I remembered that for the week I was his completely and he could do whatever he liked to me and I couldn’t stop him.

I shivered then nodded, the rebellion sat inside me. My stomach bubbled with tension.

“Okay, you can go now, pet. See you later.”

“Goodbye,” I said through gritted teeth. He looked at me questioningly and I reluctantly spat out the word “sir” before turning on my heel and walking out of the bastard’s office. I buried myself in work that afternoon. I didn’t want to think too deeply about what had happened. Not because I was scarred for life or anything melodramatic like that, no, I was worried that I’d enjoyed it far too much.

I had work to do, lots of work to do, but I couldn’t help but think back and remember the thrill I’d got from masturbating for an audience. Okay, it was an audience of one but I couldn’t deny it, I’d enjoyed it. Admitting that aloud to myself or others would shake the very foundations of what made me, so I ignored it. I had to remember that, ultimately, I was in control. Richard had got a lucky hand but I would win the game, I was certain. I wasn’t going to let him distract me from my goal, from my job.

The time ticked by so slowly and I felt like I’d looked up at the clock every other minute. I was dreading eight-thirty arriving but I also couldn’t wait. What would his strong hand feel like impacting on my stinging flesh? Would it hurt, would it make me cry? I didn’t know. I just had no idea about what would happen.

That was almost impossible. I made my living because I knew all the options, all the variables and nothing ever surprised me. I controlled every situation but I couldn’t control what Richard would decide to do to me. I was frightened but not that he would hurt me, I had no fear of that. Richard, although a bastard, was a gentleman and I knew he would honour the safe word if I uttered it. No, I was terrified that I would like it and end up craving more.

At eight-twenty-eight I closed down my laptop, filled, then picked up my briefcase and walked down the corridor to Richard’s office. I took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in.” His deep tone resonated in the pit of my growling stomach. Something was definitely wrong, I was off my food. No matter how busy I got I usually found time to eat but I just hadn’t been able to face it that day. My tummy danced with nerves.

“Punctual,” he said, as I walked in. “I like that but don’t think it will buy you any leniency with me.”

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t have any in mind anyway. I stood before his desk and waited. He smiled at me, tapped at a few keys on his laptop then closed it. He put it down beside him. I guessed her had a bag or a briefcase down there as moments later he put the piles of paper down in the same place. He cleared the desk completely. It didn’t take long because, like me, Richard didn’t have much on there in the first place.

“Okay, I take no pleasure in this—well, actually, I lie, I’ll take a lot of pleasure in this actually but really, I’d enjoy it much more if in future you’d just obey me straight away.” He stood up and walked around the table. The tailored jacket he’d worn earlier was hung on the back of his chair and I could see the outline of his torso through the white of his shirt as the light of the setting sun streamed in through the wall of glass behind him. He was well built, if you liked that kind of thing, but I was certain that my pulse was racing because of the heat in his room. I knew it had nothing to do with wanting to run my hands over his hard pecs.

“Now, all you need to do is bend over when I tell you to and hold on tight. I will do the rest.”

He moved the chair from between me and the table and gestured with a hand that I should step closer to the desk.

“Okay, bend over. This won’t hurt, well, it won’t hurt much. Probably.”

“Well, gee, thanks for the pep talk,” I mumbled.

“Ah, did I ask you a question?”

“No,” I hesitated a moment then added, “sir.”

“Then you shouldn’t have said anything, should you? I’ll be adding strikes on to your punishment for that, pet. Now bend over, let’s get on with this. I have a bottle of Puligny Montrachet at home waiting for me and I’m rather looking forward to drinking at least some of it.”

I bent over and held onto the desk. Insufferable as he was with his poncey wine and his arrogance, he was right. We needed to get on with it so that I could go home and forget about him and this whole stupid affair for a few hours whilst I slept.

I inhaled sharply when he pulled up my skirt and tucked the edge into my waistband. I almost screamed out when he yanked down my underwear with barely a care. I felt his nails scrape down my flesh. I wondered for a moment what I had become. In the course of one day I’d gone from being the ice bitch, the woman people didn’t mess with, to a slut who masturbated on the office floor and allowed herself to be spanked. How the fuck did that happen?

I waited restlessly and worried about my arse. I was pretty certain it was one of the least attractive of my assets and it was aimed directly at Richard. It made me feel vulnerable and exposed and I really didn’t like it. That’s why I shuddered and wiggled. It wasn’t that I was feeling hot and bothered and maybe just a little aroused, definitely not.

The first spank really did surprise me. There was nothing and then the air moved and an impact of flesh on flesh followed with a sharp sting that made me gasp. I didn’t have time to gather my thoughts or brace myself before the next slap shot through me then the next and the next.

It definitely hurt. Richard was not holding back and my buttocks stung. I yelped with each new impact and tensed every time he pulled back his hand. I hated it and I loved it. I certainly didn’t understand it. But, with each painful slap, pleasure surged through me and lit me up from the centre of my clit to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I couldn’t stay still, each slap hurt so much, but I couldn’t wait for it.