The Sexretary's Next Big Assignment

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The Sexretary’s Next Big Assignment

Copyright © 2012 by Lacey Kane

Cover Design by Adrienne Thorne

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

For more information: [email protected] or www.laceykane.com

Warning
: This book contains sexually explicit material and adult language, and might offend some readers. This is for adults only.

Disclaimer
: The sexual practices contained herein are of a fantasy BDSM nature. Do not try any new sexual practice, or any of those described within this book, without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Many of the acts described within this book are figments of the author’s rather abundant imagination and might, therefore, not be possible, legal, and/or advisable. Neither the publisher nor the author will be responsible for any loss, injury, harm, or death resulting from the use of the information found within this or any other title.

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About the Author

Other Lacey Kane Titles

After more than six months in my current position, working as the sexretary for Cooper Anderson Construction, I knew better than to be late to work. But damn if I wasn’t stuck in traffic on the way to the new job site. I had ten minutes to get to work on time, but even if the cars in front of me were moving, it would still be at least fifteen minutes before I could get there.

With one hand on the wheel and the other digging in my purse, I dug out my cell phone, dialed Bobby Cooper’s direct line, and said a little prayer that he’d be feeling lenient.

He didn’t answer. Instead, I got the all-too-familiar recording. “You’ve reached Bobby Cooper. If there is an emergency on site, please dial nine-one-one. For all other calls, leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” The beep that followed spelled out trouble.

“Bobby, it’s Sarah. I’m doing my best to get there on time, but traffic isn’t moving. I’ll make it up to you when I get in.” Whether I wanted to or not.

Who was I kidding, though? Even though I hated my punishments, there was a part of me that loved them too. As long as I took care of all of my job responsibilities and took the punishments doled out by Bobby and my other boss, David Anderson, they rewarded me by letting me come. Not a half-bad prospect, all things considered. Particularly since after being punished in whatever way they’d concocted, I usually had an insane orgasm. Seriously, I’d never in my life had the sorts of orgasms I’d been having over the last six months, and they were occurring on a very, very regular basis these days. If it meant earning a punishment in order to get my reward a little sooner…well, can you really blame me?

Hell, I was already getting wet just thinking about it—even while I was sitting in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic in my junky old Ford Escort. It didn’t hurt that I was wearing a new “uniform” to work, either.

Just before we closed up shop at the old site on Friday, David had tossed me a bag from a costume shop. “Wear this to work on Monday. And nothing else.” When I got home, I opened it…and found a skimpy little secretary costume. Thigh-high garters with sheer, black stockings. Pin-striped skirt so short it wouldn’t even cover my ass. Tight pin-striped top that hardly covered my tits. No bra or panties had been included in the uniform, but he’d put in a pair of four-inch stilettos and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

Days like this made me wish my car had tinted windows. I couldn’t tell you how many dudes in traffic had nearly caused another wreck because they were so busy looking at me in my tiny secretary costume and not paying attention to what the other cars around them were doing.

Finally, traffic started moving again. I gunned it as soon as I had room up ahead, squealing into my new parking spot at the new site, then dashing inside like a madwoman.

As expected, since I was late, someone had already handled making the coffee, sorting the mail, and clearing the voice mail box. A note was scrawled in Bobby’s handwriting on the desktop calendar sitting in the middle of my desk.
Go down the hall. Third door on the right. Ankles in the stirrups. Arms overhead.

Just like I knew better than to be late to work, I definitely knew better than to dawdle when I’d been given an order. And yes, for the company sexretary, a scrawled note on a calendar was more than enough to constitute an order. I dropped my purse on the floor behind my desk and started off down the hall.

When I went inside the third door, I found something I’d never seen at Cooper Anderson Construction’s offices before. It looked like the sort of doctor’s office table you get strapped to during a gyno exam. Off to the side, there was a sawhorse. It was kind of an odd sawhorse, with the narrower end facing up. I didn’t spend too long thinking about how weird it looked, though—this was a construction site, after all. Surely it had some purpose or another. The gyno table was what had me nervous.

For the briefest of moments, I hesitated. Bobby hadn’t mentioned whether I should take off any of my clothes or not, and I didn’t want to earn a worse punishment than I already had. But if they wanted me naked, it would be easy enough for them to get me naked. Especially considering my uniform barely covered anything at all.

I climbed onto the gyno table as I was and took up the position I’d been instructed to take. The stirrups were pulled out wider than I’d ever experienced at the gyno office, leaving my pussy wide open to view for whoever came inside the room to join me. It took a little bit of crafty maneuvering, but once I got my ankles situated in the stirrups (still wearing the four-inch stilettos), it seemed to trigger a restraint system. Steel bands flipped into place, making it impossible to move my ankles at all.

It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, so I lay back and stretched my arms up overhead. After only a second or two, I found similar restraints for my wrists. Another set of steel bands moved into place.

And then the stirrups moved wider, stretching out to the side of the table until I was in a crazy sort of split. At the same time, the bands at my wrists moved back, pulling my arms until my shoulders could feel the strain.

While it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, I didn’t mind too much. I mean, yeah, it left me fully exposed and vulnerable. But…
it left me fully exposed and vulnerable
. Never in my life would I have thought that was a good thing until I’d accepted the position as the office sexretary, but there you have it. My current position had me so excited I couldn’t stop the flood of juices forming in my sex.

But maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

A curtain sort of thing dropped down from the ceiling, coming to rest on my neck—and effectively blocking my view of anything going on in the room other than the small area where my head and arms were situated.

The door opened but didn’t close. Heavy footsteps moved over the floor toward me—two sets of them footsteps, to be exact. Strong, callused hands came down over my belly, pushing my skimpy top up until it rested by my neck and my breasts were bared to their view. Two more big hands pushed at my skirt until it was bunched at my waist.

Then their mouths were on me. One worked on my breasts, nibbling and suckling on one while he kneaded and molded the other with his big hand. The other knelt between my painfully open thighs and lapped at my pussy, using his tongue and teeth on my clit while his rough fingers delved into my opening.

Within seconds, I was squirming on the gyno table. Within minutes, I was crying out and panting, searching for a release which I knew they wouldn’t grant me. Not yet at least.

I was right. Before I could get to that delightful precipice, they both pulled back. Instead of tongues and teeth on my nipples and clit, I felt the painful bite of clamps settling into place. Clothespins latched onto the tender flesh of my areolas and the fullness of my breasts, so many I lost count long before they stopped putting them on me. Something cold and metal entered my pussy—a speculum?—spreading my opening wider, wider, and still wider.

With the device still holding me open, a long dildo pressed into me through the opening it created. It delved deep, not stopping until it struck against what I assumed to be the very back wall of my cunt. I cried out in shock, which was probably the wrong response as it then moved deeper, putting an odd pressure against my cervix.

Something tugged the clamps connected to my nipples and clit—probably a chain of some sort—and stretched them up high. At the same time, a motor hummed to life and the dildo inside me started to move.

David came around the curtain then on my left side, all six feet and two hundred plus delicious pounds of him, and pulled his monstrously large cock free from his jeans. Even before he gripped the back of my head and pulled my mouth onto him, I was salivating at the thought of sucking him off.

I’d barely gotten started when my other boss, Bobby, who was equally big and muscular and fuck-me-now sexy, came to my other side and freed his tool. They worked me back and forth, forcing their cocks past my gag reflex and deep down my throat over and over again while the machine fucked me down below.

It didn’t take me long to get Bobby off. When he was done, he tucked his cock back inside his jeans while David kept fucking my throat. Then Bobby bent down by my head and stroked my hair back from my eyes.

“Today of all days was not a good choice for being late, Sarah.” His voice held a note of warning—one that left me full of dread. “We’ve got clients coming in today. As part of the package for them hiring us for this build, I’d planned to let them fuck you today. Now they aren’t just going to fuck you, but they get to punish you, too.”