Office Adventures

There were times when I would catch his eyes following me as I moved around the office. At these times, I would make sure that I was smiling more brilliantly, concentrating more fiercely, or laughing at something another person just said. I was a good girl. I ignored him in all but the most professional capacity. It was "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," and "I'll have those numbers on your desk right away, sir." I did not let my glance linger, I did not address him in any fashion that might be construed as familiar. I DID wear tighter pants, higher skirts, and blouses that revealed my breasts to their best advantage. And heels. He was determined to make us wait until Friday each week? I determined to make it as hard as possible for him to do so. It seemed only fair.

So by the time Friday evening rolled around, he had a lot of pent up frustration to work out. And that was just fine with me. The third time I closed his office door behind me, he had me strip to nothing but the boots. I suspect he had a more elaborate setup in mind, something more like the ropes currently suspending me from a ceiling hook, but when I slid one leather-encased leg up on his desk so that my dripping snatch was spread out in front of him, he abandoned his complex schemes. His erection was already substantial; when I leaned over to free it, breasts spilling out and hands insistent, he simply pushed his keyboard out of the way and fucked me quick and dirty like that. While he was pounding his thick cock in and out of my pussy, I could sense that undercurrent again, of desire not fully unleashed, of savagery barely held in check, but only his heavy breathing gave him away. After he came, pushing hard into me and shaking in silence, he simply shook his head with a dry chuckle, slapped me on the ass, and said, "Out." I pouted for a few minutes while I put my clothes back on, but I could sense this was not the time to push him.

Now I was thinking back fondly on that quick and dirty let-off-steam sex, as my arms began to ache and my tits ached and my pussy ached and I wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into.

When I had pushed open my boss's door earlier that afternoon, he held up a finger, still concentrating on the screen in front of him. I closed the door gently, and leaned back against it. The boots he continued to request I wear made me feel taller, and anticipation began to pool in my belly. Finally, he turned to me. He looked particularly delicious today, with a burgundy button-down perfectly offsetting his mahogany hair and chocolate brown eyes. Just now, they were guarded, but I could see something swimming in their depths.

After a moment, he spoke. "Unfortunately, I still have a few things to finish up here." I tried not to let my disappointment show on my face.

"As I do not wish to postpone our appointment, however, I intend to make you more comfortable while you wait." His voice was still soft, but I caught the edge of menace, and my nerve ends began zinging.

He got up from his desk. My first glance was to the zipper of his trousers. Was it already bulging? He moved toward me deliberately and his strong fingers reached for the buttons of my white collared shirt. I had chosen a classic secretary look today; black pencil skirt with a garter belt but no panties, crisp white blouse with a lace bra underneath. Which he was now revealing as his powerful hands parted my shirt and pushed it off my shoulders.

"-will use the code we discussed. It is imperative that you operate within your limits, Alice." I reluctantly brought my attention back to his words, and nodded. He was maddeningly close to actually touching my skin, and I thought I might go mad with the nearness of him. But, having divested me of my shirt alone, he turned away.

"Please remove your skirt, then hold your hands together out in front of you." His voice was still cool and detached. I tried not to let my longing for him show as I did as he asked. For good measure I also removed the bra, half hoping it would incite his wrath. Some response, anyway. He merely shrugged and rummaged through his briefcase as I stood there shivering in my boots.

When he turned around, he had two things in his hand. One was a thick nylon rope, black and ominous, with wide cuffs dangling from one end; the other was a two-pronged dildo with a suction cup at it's base. He cocked an eyebrow and regarded me sardonically, then with a swift, sharp movement, plunged the dildo down hard on the corner of his desk where it stuck, vibrating obscenely.

I watched it with fascinated apprehension as he began attaching the cuffs to my wrists. This he did quickly and efficiently, saying nothing. Then he stood briefly on his chair to thread the rope through the ceiling hook. Slowly, he pulled. Hand over hand, not taking his eyes from me, until my arms were taut and my weight nearly entirely suspended from them. My boots were just the right height to save me, my tiptoes grasping for purchase.

My ribcage lifted as I drew in a shuddering breath, my breasts jutting out at him. Briefly, he cupped them in his hot palms, eyelids dropping a fraction of an inch as he let their weight absorb his heat. An almost unintentional caress across the nipples with his thumb, and then he withdrew again, mask of impersonal professionalism in place once more. Then, the pressure of a hand against my belly guiding me back carefully until my ass just brushed the dildo attached to the desk behind me.

"Hm," he said with mock dissatisfaction, "it looks like I'm going to have to lift you a little more initially." He pulled hard on the counter-rope, and I gasped as my feet left the floor. I hung there squirming slightly, feeling completely vulnerable and at the mercy of my boss, who was just now coolly gauging the distance between the dildo and my dripping snatch. He looped the rope around the doorknob a few more times while I hung there, breath coming faster now. He positioned me carefully, the longer, larger tip just grazing my pussy.

By now I was making tiny whimpering noises, needing both to be filled and wanting to escape the torment of the restraint. He tsked briefly, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a gag. He tied it around my head, pulling my lips tight against my teeth. I met his gaze as steadily as I could, but I think he could see the frisson of fear in my eyes because he smiled slightly to himself. He walked over to the doorknob.

"We'll start with one loop I think." He braced the rope and I could see the muscles stand out in his arms and torso. With a creak, he lowered me fractionally. The mushroom head of the dildo parted my folds and entered me ever so slightly. I felt the barest tickle from the second prong at my ass.

He regarded me critically. "Hmm, maybe one more." And down I went again, though not enough to touch my feet so I still hung there in mid air, anchored only by the fake cock in my cunt. I was beginning to feel an increase in pressure at my asshole, and when he unlooped one further, I gasped involuntarily as the little head popped through.

"Try to relax into it, my dear," his warm, rich voice was suddenly inside my ear. My eyes sprang open. He was right there beside me. Outwardly calm, I could see the small signs of heightened sexual awareness. The flared nostrils. The faint sheen of sweat. A definite bulge in his pants. But I was caught, helpless to tease him or touch him. Then the bastard sat down at his desk, and started typing again.

I couldn't believe it. He was just going to leave me here? Dangling, frustrated, bound and gagged and completely at his mercy? My arms were already starting to burn as minutes ticked by.

He cast a glance my way, then quickly rose. Without saying a word, he un-looped another two or three loops of the rope and gently lowered me downward. At first there was resistance (my pussy hungrily ate up the larger shaft of the two-pronged dildo) as my ass adjusted to the unlubricated invasion. But I inched down little by little and accommodation was made. He sat back down and resumed work.

I forced myself to breathe evenly. Acidly, I hoped he was so distracted that whatever he was working on would be absolute crap. I was glad he could enjoy what was obviously a treasured fantasy, but what about me? I seethed. How could he work with me naked beside him, twisting gently from my bound, suspended wrists and being slowly speared by a big fat dildo in both my pussy and my ass? My breasts were right there, hanging heavily and tantalizingly at eye line. I could smell the heady, musky odor of my juices coating his toy. I groaned. I was only increasing my own frustration.

My eyes tracked him as again he rose and walked nonchalantly over to the knob. I caught what might have been approaching a smirk on his face, but inhaled sharply as he lowered me enough so that my feet set down, just barely brushing the floor. My ass was burning now, but it was worth it. It took the pressure off my arms, and I could, just barely, rock back and forth a little, building a little friction along with the feeling of being utterly impaled.

He regarded me from the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. His cock was clearly straining against the fabric of his pants by now, but his face gave no sign. Then he straightened and walked toward me. He bent his dark head deliberately and then, ever so slowly, took one aching nipple into his mouth. He was tender and slow, and at first I barely felt it. Just the warm wetness, with the barest caress of his tongue. He touched me with nothing else, just his mouth, just my breasts. I whimpered into the black silk gagging me. At one point he moved over to the other one and took the jutting point of it in to suckle, building me up to a fever pitch degree by agonizing degree.

I had thrown my head back and closed my eyes to lose myself in the pure sensation of it. Suddenly I realized that the feather-light caresses had retreated altogether. I opened my eyes and jerked my head up abruptly. The bastard was sitting in his big office chair, staring at me. Well, he clearly enjoyed the view. My arms were straining against the rope dangling me from the ceiling, I was impaled and utterly filled by his diabolical double-pronged dildo, and my full, hanging breasts were burnished red from contact and the flush of sexual desire.

I had the satisfaction of noticing he was breathing heavily now, and clearly in an advanced state of sexual frustration. Suddenly, he pushed his feet against the floor and propelled the big chair over to the door, meanwhile fumbling with his belt. He barely had time to push down his trousers, releasing his monster erection, when the chair hit the door with a thud. He reached out and gave a strong pull on the rope, drawing me instantly up off the desk and off the twin dicks in my cunt and my ass. I screamed against the gag, both at the pain in my over-strained arms and at the loss of stimulation. I had been so close to fucking myself to orgasm while my boss sucked on my breasts. I felt free fall for a moment as he deftly maneuvered me through the air, grabbing me to him and swiftly lowering the rope so that I straddled him in his big rolling chair. My arms flopped uselessly over the top of it, still bound but slack. He speared me with a grunt.

"I won't last long, Alice," he whispered roughly in my ear. "You look so goddamn hot like that."

"Uhhh," was my reply, past caring as I shoved myself down on his rigid cock. He thrust his hips up off the chair, impaling me as thoroughly on his cock as I had been on the dildo. By now I was moaning continuously. Savagely, fucking me hard and fast, he ripped the gag from my mouth.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." I whispered over and over again. I barely noticed him reaching behind me and then -

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" I cried out in ecstasy as simultaneously he plunged the dildo back into my ass and my orgasm crested, rolling me like a tidal wave. My ass clenched hard and my cunt gripped his hard pole tightly as I was overtaken in wave after wave of pleasure. His cock measured its every last inch inside me.

"Oh, shit. Shit, I'm cumming!" he groaned. His hips slammed into mine one last time and I felt the pulsing of his cock as he spilled into me. His chest heaved against mine. I was still breathing hard and could feel the aftershocks coursing through me into him, through him into me. Eyes wide, I met his gaze, which for once held no barrier, no hint of sardonic superiority. Quick as a flash, he straightened in the chair and kissed me, wrapping his arms to hold me fast against him, a vice grip at my neck. The kiss was deep and strong and tasted of salt, and if I hadn't been lost before, I surely was now. Lost for good.