What Do You Want Ch 01

She had watched him from a distance, never knowing that he was watching her too. She didn't know what it was that was so intriguing about him but he had something that she just didn't see in all the men, and women, who worked for her.

She was the business director of a large multinational company. He was a new recruit to the sales team but his lowly position in the company she had worked for all her adult life was not reflected in the way he carried himself. He didn't make a big noise about all his past wins and achievements the way the other sales people did. Instead there was a quiet confidence about him that let everyone who met him know that he was a force to be reckoned with.

Now they had been thrown together at the annual gala dinner where it was the custom for senior management to sit with all the other staff. The wine was flowing and, as is so often the case, the conversation around the table had turned to sex. The alcohol had loosened tongues and lowered inhibitions, a road she never allowed herself to walk, but when the subject of "50 Shades" was raised her ears pricked up.

She didn't join in the risqué conversation but listened intently as the other women at the large table regaled the men with the more salacious details. Of course, the men scoffed and the women teased but, although there was a delicious tingle between her legs as she remembered the exquisite pleasure of reading the book, she said nothing.

Only one other at the table shared her silence and it was that which convinced her to find out more about this mysterious man. After dinner and after the speeches and endless award ceremony she made a beeline for him.

He obviously knew who she was but showed none of the deference that she had grown accustomed to. He introduced himself but said nothing else, as if it was she who had to justify herself for speaking to him. She decided to go on the offensive and asked if he believed that such a relationship could work in real life.

"Yes," was his simple reply, once again forcing her to respond.

"And have you ever had ever had a relationship like the women had discussed at the table?"

"Yes," was again his answer but this time he looked at her almost pityingly as he finally asked his own question in return.

"Is that what you want?

His words stunned her. How dare he speak to her like that, ask a question like that? Didn't he know who she was? She couldn't explain why his dark blue eyes bore straight through her yet she couldn't deny the fluttering in her stomach. She couldn't stand still as her juices soaked her panties and she couldn't stop herself from nodding her as head as she practically whispered,

"Yes."

"Prove it."

Who was this man who could reduce her to such a helpless wreck? She had never had any trouble knocking back all the other men who had clumsily tried to seduce her at company meetings. In fact, she had become so adept at it that the scorned suitors had taken the usual revenge of starting rumours to suggest she was more interested in women than men.

He had never believed the gossip and now he stood before her waiting for her answer.

"How do I do that?" she asked incredulously.

"Go to the Ladies toilet, remove your panties and bring them to me in your hand."

She almost burst out laughing, so ridiculous was his suggestion, until she looked back into those fathomless eyes.

"You're serious? " was all she could manage.

He turned to walk away until she ran after him, grabbing his arm. She had never done anything like this in her life, had never been told what to do by anyone else in the company, but she knew she couldn't stand for him to leave her hanging on the edge like this.

Looking one last time into his dark blue eyes she turned away and nervously made her way to the Ladies toilet. Even as she made her way there she wasn't sure if she could do what he asked, what he demanded. But when she finally made her way to the front of the queue and locked the cubicle door behind her she knew that she would do exactly as he said. She knew that she had never been so turned on in her whole life. She knew that her pussy had soaked her panties with her juices and she knew that he would see this as soon as she handed them to him.

Could she really do it? Could she walk out of here naked under her dress? Could she walk past her colleagues with her juices threatening to run down her legs? Could she hand over her wet panties to a man she had just met?

Even as all these questions ran through her mind she found herself pulling her short black dress up, up over her stocking tops, up past her most intimate places until it was gathered around her waist. Even as she questioned the wisdom of her actions she was peeling her underwear away from her sticky cunt and lowering them down her legs.

She knew that the crotch was going to be marked but she was shocked at just how wet her panties were and once again doubted if she could go through with this. How could she hand them over to this man in such a public place? She reassured herself by presuming he would have found a quiet spot for their transaction and, comforted by this thought, she lowered her dress and unlocked the door.

Almost as soon as she pulled it open and walked out she felt as if every eye in the room was turned to her, almost as if they knew what she had just done and what she was about to do. In truth, every head had turned to face her because they were desperate to use the cubicle for its usual purpose rather than what she had just done.

Trying hard not to think about how vulnerable she felt she made her way past the other women and went looking for him. Her hopes of a private handover were dashed as soon as she saw him. He had joined a group of other men at the bar and she almost turned around to stop herself from making what could be the biggest mistake of her career, of her life.

Taking a deep breath, she moved over to where he stood, glad that the other men stood aside in recognition of her position, hoping to find favour with her. He on the other hand studiously ignored her until she could wait no longer, knowing that he was deliberately testing her, pushing her to the very limits to see how far she would go.

He said nothing when she stood in front of him but looked down at her right hand. She had closed her fist around her tiny thong so that no one else could see what she held. But she knew. And he knew.

Seeming to take pity on her he walked away from the group and she simply followed as if she were a puppy on a lead. The other men simply stared after the newcomer and their boss, wondering what strange dynamic was taking place but knowing better than to interfere. It wouldn't stop them gossiping though.

As he had always intended he found a quiet corner and sat down, waiting for her to do the same. When she did he said nothing, simply waiting for her to make the next move. She couldn't believe how nervous she was she realised just how risky her next move could be. She, the confident, successful professional was about to hand over her panties, her soaking panties to a new employee in a public place, surrounded by her colleagues, and she couldn't have stopped herself if she had tried.

Moving her chair as close to him as possible she tried to hand over her underwear beneath the table. When he refused to take her gift, she stared at him in confusion until she realised what he wanted her to do. Raising her hand above the table top she handed over her tiny garment and was greatly relieved when he took it from her.

She was about to congratulate herself for passing his test when she saw in horror that he was unfurling her thong on to the table and turning it inside out. Even in that light she could see how stained they were and her face burned with shame.

"Where is your room?"

She didn't know if he was pleased or disappointed that with her thong but she could at least answer this question. When she told him that she, along with the other senior managers, had a suite on the top floor he stood up and walked away. Presuming that she was meant to follow she got up too. She thought for one moment about retrieving her underwear but she already knew that this would not be acceptable and she shuddered as she wondered which of her colleagues would find her intimate clothing and what they would do with it.

They made their way to her suite as she led the way yet it seemed that he was the one who was leading her. She opened the door and walked in, trying to tell herself that this was her room, that she was in control and that he was the one would should feel privileged. Somehow, none of that seemed right.

She stood in the middle of the living room area and turned to face him.

"Take off your shoes."

He seemed to know just what buttons to press with her. She was not the tallest of women and always wore the highest heels she could find, especially at corporate events like this evening's. There was no graceful way to remove them without sitting down but she knew that wasn't what he wanted. Struggling out of her heels she neither expected not received any help.

As she stepped to the side she couldn't have felt more vulnerable than if he had told her to remove her dress. With that one instruction she felt that he had stripped her of all her confidence yet all he did was stare down at her.

"What do you want?"

Surprised by his question, she didn't know how to answer. She had expected him to take the lead and all she would have to do was follow. She had never thought of herself as submissive but this man seemed to know just how play to all her deep-rooted insecurities.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

Again there was no reaction, just another order.

"Raise your dress."

This she had expected and raised her eyes defiantly to face him. She had always been proud of her body although she would have loved to have been taller. The few men and even fewer women who had seen her naked had always been more than pleased by what they saw. Even so she could feel her face burning as she began to pull up the lower end of her short dress, up past her knees, up her legs, all the way to the tops of her thighs. She had magnificent legs, statuesque almost, and she almost felt pleased to show them off. She stood before him wearing a pair of black, silk stockings, her black dress perched just above their lacy tops, showing the slightest hint of naked skin.

"Are you proud of your legs?"

"Yes, I think they are one of my best features."

He showed no reaction but simply asked her another question.

"How do you feel standing there, holding up your dress to show them to me? You hardly know me; you have a much more senior position in the company yet you are doing as I tell you. How do you feel?"

She wondered how he was able to get straight to her core with his questions. He didn't know her any better than she knew him but he seemed to be able to look deep inside her and make her feel what she had never felt before.

"More embarrassed than I've ever been before."

Again she had answered honestly but again there was no reaction.

"Higher."

Her body shuddered involuntarily as his words began to sink in and, perhaps for the very first time, she began to realise what she had let herself in for. She had always had a strict rule against getting involved with colleagues but now she was about to show her pussy to a man she hardly knew, a man who was so far below her in the company that she still found it hard to believe she was doing this.

Slowly she raised her expensive black dress further up her legs, finally revealing her shaven pussy to his eyes. From somewhere the thought came into her head as to how she would ever be able to face him in the office again.

She was almost disappointed when his only reaction was to issue another instruction.

"Turn around."

She turned her back on him and almost anticipated his next words by preparing herself to bend over. She had never had to worry about having an oversized arse and she was almost as proud of it as she was of the rest of her body. Even so, when he did indeed tell her to lean forward, she could feel her humiliation rising at being inspected in such a lewd pose. With her feet slightly apart for balance she was sure her pussy lips would be visible too, lips that seemed to have become very moist since he first told her to remove her knickers. She knew he couldn't see her face at that moment but she could feel her cheeks burning red hot, a degree of embarrassment she had never imagined. She always presented herself at work and at home as sexy but ladylike, elegant and graceful. She felt none of these things right now.

"Stand up."

It was a relief to do so even though her dress remained bunched up around her waist. She turned to face him with some trepidation, presuming that she was about to be told to strip entirely. Whatever he had in mind for her she knew her evening had just begun.

"Take off your dress."

Reaching behind her back she took hold of the zip, surprised that her fingers were trembling slightly, and pulled it all the way down. She tried to show again that she was only doing this because she wanted to and stared at him defiantly before she shrugged it off her shoulders, pulled it down, wriggled her luscious hips and let it fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Standing there in just her black lacy bra and stockings she looked the picture of sex personified but still he refused to show any emotion. Her own emotions however were running wild and her pussy seemed to be practically dripping with her juices.

He let her stand like that for a few moments, letting the knowledge of what she was doing, of the position she was in, sink in. She was quickly learning the true meaning of embarrassment, as he slowly walked around her, letting her feel his eyes on every inch of her almost naked body.

As he once more stood inches away in front of her he touched her for the first time. Running his fingers along the tops of her breasts, he expertly brushed the black lace aside long enough to graze her nipples. She had always had very sensitive nipples and they immediately reacted to his touch just as her pussy tingled even more.

Slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders and pushing them down her arms, he reached behind her to undo the clasp, all the time keeping his mesmerising eyes fixed on hers. As soon as she felt the air touching her skin she felt her breasts swell and her nipples stiffen even more. She let her bra fall to the floor and stood with her hands by her side as if she was offering herself to him.

"Do you often allow colleagues to strip you and touch you?" he asked as he expertly played with her proud breasts and gently pinched her nipples.

"No," she answered.

The one word all that she could trust herself to utter as her face burned anew and her pussy went into overdrive.

 He leaned forward and she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he whispered in her ear.

"Then why am I? What is it you want?"

Then he did kiss her, not on the lips but in the sensitive hollow of her neck, kissing her soft skin with his surprisingly soft mouth.

 Her legs started to tremble and her knees seemed to be weakening. She couldn't have answered him if she tried as no one had ever taken this time to arouse her to such a peak. Yet here she was in a hotel room with a man she barely knew, a subordinate, who was bringing her to the brink of orgasm with his words, his touch and his lips.

Then he stopped.

Leaving her panting for breath, her body seemingly on fire, he turned and walked away from her, walking over to her desk, turned the chair to face her and sat down.

"You know what to do."

She knew what he meant but she couldn't believe he was being serious. Did he really think she would demean herself by lying across his lap and subjecting herself to a spanking? The idea was absurd. No one had spanked her since her father had done so on the day she left home to go to university. He had said it was a reminder to be a good girl while she was away but she remembered how she had felt his cock grow beneath her and she knew that he was taking his last chance to use her body for his own gratification. That spanking had been the longest and most painful she had ever endured at his hands but they were both rewarded by the tell-tale sign of the front of his trousers displaying a large damp patch when he finally released her. She never went home again.

Now she was faced with a similar situation and the thought crept across her mind that she might be able to finally raise a reaction from the man sitting across the room. Maybe she would even be able to make him cum before he was ready and he wouldn't seem so impressive then.

She walked over to where he sat and, with her feet on one side of him, she lay across his lap until her arms reached forward to touch the carpet on the other side.

"Spread your cheeks."

He felt her body tremble all over at his words. This wasn't in the script, not in her script anyway, but she steeled herself and reached back with her right hand while balancing herself with her left. No one but her doctor had ever been near her tightest hole. She knew that her lovers could see it whenever they had had sex in the doggy position but she had never been interested in anyone touching her there. Even so, she knew that she enjoyed having sex in that way as her lovers always seemed to be able to reach even deeper into her pussy with their cocks, plastic or real, and her orgasms had always been more explosive when they did it like this.

Now she could feel the moisture building between her lips and she was sure he would be able to see the tiny droplets of her juices on them. As she reached behind herself with her right hand and pulled on her right cheek she could have sworn that she could feel his breath on her most private spot.

"What are you feeling right now?"

"Please don't ask me that. I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed in my whole life."

"Is that why your cunt is so wet?"

She wasn't sure what embarrassed her more. Was his easy use of such a crude word or the fact that she knew for certain now that he could see her wet lips or even the fact that was now running one finger along her visibly wet lips? And he didn't stop there; she shuddered as she felt him run his finger all the way up between her open cheeks and circle her tiny hole, smearing it with her own juices. Once again she couldn't find any words to express how disgraced she felt; all she could do was shake her head violently from side to side.

Placing one hand on her back to hold her in place, although there was no way she was going to try to escape, he ran the other one slowly over her plump cheeks. Whatever his intentions she now felt as if she was pinned down on his lap, unable to move.

"What do you want?"

She couldn't bring herself to admit she wanted to be spanked. It seemed so wrong, so perverse, so she told herself she was only submitting like this so that she could regain control. She said nothing.

She felt him running his palm lightly over her bare cheeks and she wondered if her gorgeous arse was having the desired effect. She knew it was beautifully round, she knew it was smooth and she thought that maybe he was finding as hard to resist as so everyone else.

Just as she was beginning to think she was gaining the upper hand he stopped. Without warning he raised his right hand and brought it down, not too hard, smacking her right cheek.

Her whole body jerked in shock but he had a firm grip of her.

Instinctively but silently she found herself mouthing, "One," prepared to count each slap just as her father had taught her.

He brought my hand down on her right cheek again, only harder this time. She could already feel the heat building in her behind. Four more times he spanked her right cheek before he stopped. Was he admiring his handiwork or just having a rest? She couldn't tell but she was glad of the respite, praying that perhaps he had stopped for good. Her arse was burning now but she couldn't deny that her pussy must have been soaking his lap.