No

I closed my laptop. Finally, inbox zero. It was the end of the fiscal year, a stressful time for everybody, and it was my job to stick around until the very last contract came in. Exhausted, I packed my bag and stood up to go. The rest of the team had already gone home.

Almost everyone, that is. There was one light still on, right across the aisle from mine. Jericha. She was already packed and ready to leave, just messing around on her phone. I almost wondered if she'd been waiting for me.

I grabbed my bag and started towards the door.

"No."

I hadn't even asked her a question. Every time I passed her desk, Jericha found an excuse to say no. Sometimes it was to the air, sometimes it was to someone else, but usually it was to me.

"Hey, do you know where the all-hands is?"

"Sorry, no."

"Hi Jericha. What's for lunch?"

"Hmm, let me check. Let's see... no."

"Jericha! Happy Monday."

"Is it though? I think not."

And she always gave me this intense look too, big dark eyes daring me to look away first. A challenge. Normally I'd write it off. Maybe she'd had an awful ex that looked like me, or didn't want this job in the first place, or just kind of gets off on being an asshole.

But today I was not in the mood. And lately it felt like there was something else behind that look. A challenge. I decided I wasn't letting her off the hook.

I stopped and stood by her desk. "Look Jericha, what's your deal? I try to be polite, but every time we interact you ice me out. It's extremely frustrating."

She turned her chair and fixed me with those big dark eyes. "Maybe I don't have anything polite to say to you."

I glared back at her, refusing to look away. "Well, I'm sick of being polite myself. I want a better reason."

"I never asked you to be polite to me."

"What would you prefer? Would you rather I ignore you entirely? I'll just go then." I turned to leave.

She spoke up. "No."

I stopped and turned back. "What?" I snapped.

She fidgeted in her chair. Her eyes were wide, a trace of fear. I hadn't seen this look before. I took a slow breath, calming myself as I waited for her response.

When she spoke, her voice was small and uncertain, almost embarrassed. She looked down at the floor. "Maybe I just like telling you no."

"So you don't want me to ignore you." I came closer.

"No." She sounded wobbly. She leaned towards me.

"And you don't want me to be polite." She shook her head quickly.

I placed my finger on her lip. "Is saying 'no' all this mouth of yours knows how to do?"

Her lips parted. I could feel her breath on my fingertip. "No." She placed her teeth gently around my finger and gave it a little lick.

"Get up." My voice was lower, darker. It sounded like someone else's voice, a voice didn't know I had. Jericha smiled, teeth still on my finger, and did not move.

"Fine then." I reached my other hand to the back of her head, gathered a handful of curls, and tightened my fist. Jericha yelped, her eyes and mouth popping wide open. I tugged her up towards me and she fell out of her chair, stumbling onto her feet. She collapsed into my chest, her face pressing into my neck. She smelled like honey and cinnamon. I was practically shaking with confusion and excitement. My body knew what to do, but my mind was still catching up.

Still gripping her hair, I pulled her head to the side to expose her neck. Another yelp. I whispered close, breathing directly into her ear.

"Listen to me. If anything gets to be too much for you, say "red" and I will stop. Do you understand?"

She squirmed in my arms, wordlessly nuzzling my neck. Not a clear response. This girl did not like to say yes.

I tilted her head up to look me in the face. Her eyes were dreamy and unfocused.

"Jericha. I need to know. What do you say if you want me to stop? Say it for me."

She panted for a few seconds, her eyes fluttering as she gathered herself. She focused on me. It was hardly a whisper when she said it. "Red."

"Good girl." I grabbed her around the waist, hoisted her off her feet, and pushed her up against the wall. I devoured her with a kiss as I pressed my whole body against her. She moaned into my kiss, clutching at my shirt with her hands. Her hips rolled against my thigh. I lifted her skirt and pushed my knee up between her thighs, feeling her warmth. She pulled me in, kissing back hungrily, rocking and grinding against my knee.

I found myself suddenly aware of every detail of her body, a body I'd unconsciously tried to ignore. Her lips, soft and full against mine. The taut muscles of her neck and shoulders. The shape of the small of her back, arching upward. For me.

I felt like an animal. I wanted to lose myself in the moment, devour her completely, but it still felt like we were on a tightrope, a fantasy. She was holding a part of herself back. I wanted more.

I pulled back from the kiss and put one hand on her collarbone, just below her throat. I pressed into her chest, pinning her firmly against the wall. I could feel her heart thrumming under my palm. "Listen to me. Jericha is the person who says no. Right now, you are not Jericha. You are my toy, my plaything, and I'm going to play with you however I please until you break. You can struggle, you can shriek, but you are not getting out of here in one piece.

"By the time I'm done with you, you are going to be begging me for more. We're going to fill that little head of yours with so much pleasure and need that you forget the word 'no.' The only sounds that come out of your mouth will be sounds of pleasure and need. That's all fucktoy like you needs to know."

I slipped my free hand under her skirt, trailing my finger up her inner thigh. I could feel goosebumps on her leg.

"Does that feel nice, little toy? Do you want more?"

She quivered and bucked, a needy mess from the neck down. Her eyes slid in and out of focus. She chewed on her lower lip, struggling to vocalize a response. "I... N... nuh."

"Wrong answer." I swept all the clutter off her desk and onto the floor, then grabbed her shirt and yanked her forward. I bent her over the desk, pinning her by the neck. Her hand swatted uselessly. I leaned my elbows down into her back and grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm up behind her back. Not quite enough to hurt, but enough that she could feel the pressure. She stopped struggling.

I flipped her skirt up, exposing her ass. She was wearing thin black panties, almost a G-string tucked between her cheeks. "We won't be needing these." I pulled them off, and they slid down to her ankles.

"You've had this coming a long time, slut." I tightened my grip on her wrist, bearing down as I very gently patted her ass cheeks, first one, then the other. "Always acting so superior, so in control. But deep down you need this. You know what's coming, don't you?"

She whimpered in reply, but gave her butt an almost imperceptible wiggle.

I've spanked partners before. There's a certain firmness I'm used to for feeling someone out, dialing in how much force they need to get a little edge while still feeling good. Some of my partners were more sensitive, some less so. After our first session we'd talk about it. If that was a five out of ten, what would be just right for you? What would be right on the edge of what you could handle?

My last partner liked it rough. She said an 8 was almost too much for her.

That's where I started with Jericha.

SMACK! I laid into her with my open palm, putting my entire arm behind it. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! No warning, no warmup, no counting. Her cheeks immediately started to turn red. I rubbed and caressed them, letting them get nice and rosy. Then I hit her again, over and over.

The whole time, Jericha grit her teeth. No crying, no words, just yelps and squeaks. Still so buttoned up.

I slipped a finger between her legs, grazing her pussy. That earned a long, low groan from deep in her chest. She was absolutely soaked. I rubbed deeper, wetting my finger, then brought it to my mouth to taste. Heavenly. Like her scent, but better. I felt warmth building in my chest, a desire to not just take but own this gorgeous girl beneath me.

I was getting distracted. I slipped my finger back into her pussy, then brought it to her mouth.

"Open." She did. A little compliance. Good. I put my finger in her mouth and she sucked on it, eyes closed. "That's what a good toy tastes like. Your body just loves being my plaything. It's begging to be fucked." She moaned and sucked harder.

I pulled my finger out of her mouth. "But I'm not done playing with you."

SMACK! I resumed spanking her. This time I would alternate between heavy slaps and teasing her pussy and her asshole. She got jumpy when I touched near her asshole, but her butt also pushed back against me, as if asking for more.

Another quick series of spanks, then I bent down behind her and gave her asshole a long lick.

She let out a loud groan. Her voice was low and guttural. I pushed a couple fingers into her pussy as I licked and probed, fucking her with my fingers and tongue at the same time. I didn't have the leverage to pin her wrists down anymore, and her hands slipped out of my grasp as she squirmed. Rather than flailing, she reached back out to my hand. Rather than pinning her down, I held her hand. I felt a burst of tenderness for her.

Where before she'd moaned wordlessly, now she emitted a string of incoherent profanity. "Fuck" and "God" and "Jesus" repeated over and over as she quivered and shook. She started rhythmically pushing back against me, trying to work me deeper.

I let up before she came. She whined with need, undulating her hips against the desk. I rolled her over to get a good look at her. She pawed at my shirt, grabbing at me, wanting more.I leaned over her, lowering my face close to hers. She was still whimpering and swearing.

Then I heard it. It was slurred, so quiet it was hard to hear, but there it was. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me." It felt automatic, almost like she was talking in her sleep. Her mind was gone.

But her hazy eyes snapped to attention when she heard the metallic click of my belt buckle.

I undid my belt and buttons, lowered my pants, and placed myself at her entrance. I dragged the head of my cock up and down her bare pussy, teasing her clit. My precum mixed with her juices, slick and warm. Her pussy was flushed and rosy like her cheeks. I could not believe how hard I was.

I held myself back, fighting the urge to immediately press into her. I looked for my bag. "I can get a condom."

She looked up at me and shook her head. "Please. I want to feel you. Just you."

I pushed very, very slowly, feeling her open for me. Her back arched and she started to push back. I stopped her with a hand on her hips, pinning her down so I could control my depth. Her jaw hung slack, her breath going quick and shallow as I eased into her. Her body felt taut, almost vibrating, like a violin string waiting to be plucked, but there was no resistance left in her. Her whole body felt like an invitation.

"Your pussy needs to be fucked, doesn't it? How does that feel?"

She was practically hyperventilating. "So... so full."

I put my mouth right up to her ear. "That's only half of me."

I thrusted hard, burying myself to the hilt. She shrieked and hugged me close, kissing my neck. I withdrew slowly, all the way to the tip. I could feel her folds squeezing the head of my cock. She whined and pushed her hips up, clawing at my back. Without warning I thrust my full length in again, and she moaned into my neck, sucking and licking. I took my hand off her hip and she immediately started fucking me back, building a rhythm.

She already felt so close. So did I. All my frustration had been replaced by an anxious, tender feeling, the shock of feeling so close to someone after so much pushing away. Now that we were past the game of teasing and controlling, I felt exposed, uncertain. Strange as it might sound, I wondered if she even wanted me.

"Jericha... I can't, I'm too close. I need to pull out."

She laid her head back and looked into my eyes. She put a hand on my cheek and gave a wicked little grin. Then she locked her legs around my waist. "No you don't."

She flexed around me, grinding hard, the tension building in her body. I saw her grin slip, her eyes going hazy as her breath came quick and shallow. She kissed me, drawing my tongue into her mouth to suck on as I thrust wildly into her. Then she stopped breathing entirely, her skin hot under my hands, and I felt her throb and contract around me. Her needy voice trembled as she came for me, then she softened, suddenly pliant and slack. I heard wild, ecstatic sounds, and realized they were coming from me. Her legs were still locked, her hand pulling me into her. A cry ripped from my throat as I built to a peak, then I thrashed as I came, holding her as tight as I could as I filled her up. For long seconds I pulsed and thrusted, the world a wash of pleasure as I came apart on top of her.

We stayed like that for awhile, holding each other close. She stroked my head. I could feel our hearts and breathing slow down, all our tensions dissolved in the afterglow.

Finally I pushed up and off of her. We disentangled our limbs. We were a little sticky and our clothes were a mess. Her normally sleek hair was a rats nest. Her breathing was slow and even, her smile sleepy. She looked beautiful.

I wetted a towel to clean her up. I loved seeing her full of my seed, her skin so sensitive to my touch.

When I looked up, I saw her eyes were wet. It looked like she was about to cry.

I sprung into aftercare mode. "Oh! What's wrong?"

"I wasn't ready for you to be nice afterwards. That's hard for me sometimes, when a guy is nice. I don't know why. I just get afraid. Especially if it's someone I like." She looked ashamed. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm fucked up."

I held her hand. "It's okay. You're not fucked up. I didn't know I had all this in me either. I think I surprised myself, you really drew something out in me."

I paused. "I liked it, but there were some moments I was worried. I didn't want to push you away or hurt you. That can be scary for me." I lifted her hand, showed how she was stroking my palm with her thumb. "This helps. I can tell how you feel through your body. But words matter too."

She nodded. "I know I can be confusing. This feels better than being polite."

"What are you doing Friday night?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Want to do nothing together?"

She smiled. "Yes."