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An Office Slave Ch. 01

By: JaineEire



I walked back up the hallway, past my own office, and knocked on Richard's door. 

'Come in.' 

I stepped into Richard's office and my breath caught. I've had a crush on this man for years. He was a handsome creature, a tall man with a lean grace that reminded me of a panther. He was lazily slouched behind his computer, one hand still on the phone and the other, massaging his neck. He waved me to a chair. 

My heart pounding, I walked to his oversized corporate desk and placed the envelope beside his computer monitor then sat down and waited. He said into the phone, 'I'll see you tomorrow then, Tom, say hello to Jilly for me,' clicked off, then turned those amazing eyes to me.

'Well, Nina, how are you enjoying your being back at Hunter?' He leaned back on his great office chair. He looked relaxed but I had the feeling he was focusing on me intently. The look in his eyes reminded me again of a great cat gazing down at a prey before he crushed it. I licked my lips. Definitely the wrong thing to do, Nina, I thought, as his eyes followed the movement of my tongue. I straightened in my seat and forced a smile.

'Everyone's been very kind to me, Richard. Sam especially has personally introduced me around to everyone I needed to know immediately. He's been very helpful.'

Mr Hunt's nose flared, as if he smelled something unpleasant. He watched me without saying anything, as if considering what to say. I started flushing under his gaze. Was he annoyed about something? Then he seemed to make up his mind about something.

'Nina, I received your first draft of the introduction to next week's conference.'

The unexpected change of subject caught me by surpise. But I was familiar with his no-nonsense style. The man had no time for niceties. But I continued to smile at him said, 'Did you have time to have a read of it? Perhaps we can discuss how I can improve on what I've started.' 

He picked a remote from the desk in front of him, pointed it to something behind me. Something whirred and I realised he had closed the blinds behind me with the remote control. 

'Yes I have, Nina, and I hate to say this, but I was extremely disappointed in your work. The draft clearly shows you failed to understand the full extent of how green energy would benefit the company. And your arguments didn't quite reflect what the statistics show.' 

I gasped in dismay. I had tried my very best for three whole days to understand those darned figures, and I was so certain it was the best written work I had ever produced on short notice. Did he even have the time to read the first part? Dismay turned to resentment. 

'Richard, surely you don't think that a few hours would result in perfect work! I was given to understand it would be a first draft, and since I had no knowledge of the subject matter –'

'Precisely, Nina. I'm sure you tried your best but I do need someone with previous knowledge of the economics of energy. I'm afraid I won't be able to offer you a permanent place on my team, or in the company for that matter after your week's temporary work as my assistant.'

My blood turned to ice. 'But, Richard, Sylvie told me herself she would like me to hire me. She said that since I used to work here, I wouldn't have any difficulty understanding the operations and picking up where I left off.' 

In my consternation, I found that I had stood up and approached him. He watched my approach with a raised eyebrow.

'Nina, you understand that I do the hiring around here and not Sylvie –'

'Richard, you don't understand. Sylvie told me she was retiring in six months. She told me she would train me to replace her, as I used to work your fathers' reports as well. She told me there was no other person in your staff who had my qualifications.'

'And they are...?' He looked sardonically up at me. 

I took a deep breath. I had not expected I would have to fight for this job. Sylvie had told me I was as good as hired. Apparently, Richard would have to approve my position. Richard, who was known to be a hard task master compared to his father. But I would not cower. My family needed me to support them. 

'Since I left HUNTER, I finished my degree in International Business majoring in Asian trade,' and paused to swallow. Richard's eyes had left my face to explore downwards. I could feel my face flushing. My husband had always admired my breasts and vowed they were the best part of my anatomy. Unfortunately, it seemed Richard was a breast man as well. 'Three years ago, I worked with Argus Continental as Comptroller's assistant.' Another swallow. 'I only stopped because I had my daughter.' 

Richard had finished perusing my breasts and his eyes continued downwards to my exposed knees, my stockingless legs and my three-inch Prada. My mouth had gone dry and I was bothered by a quivering that had begun in my thighs. 

'Yes?' He said, eyes returning to mine. 'How long were you at Argus?' 

'Err, six months.' I licked my lips and took a deep breath to steady myself. He rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and stroked his lower lip with his finger. Unexpectedly I imagined his fingers stroking my own lip, and the hairs at the back of my neck stirred. 

'That's not a lot of experience. Is it, Nina?' he asked quietly.

I rushed on. 'When my daughter turned two, last year, I worked at Belnave Industries as Marketing Assistant –'

'And how long were you there?' he asked almost gently. Drat the man. He already knew the answer to this.

'Four months.' I said it just as quietly. My husband Hardy had demanded that I resign when the owner's son, Victor Belnave began to show marked interest in some of my body parts. To be precise, in the same breasts Richard was himself ogling just a few seconds ago. 

I raised my shoulders helplessly. 'Richard,' I began and to my dismay, I heard my voice begin to shake. I was tired and hungry. I cleared my throat. 'Please, Richard. I'd like to prove myself to you. I'll read all the background information I can get my hands on between now and the conference. Give me one more week and I'll show you what I can do for Hunter. This is only my third day after all. Please give me a chance!' I heard the pleading tone in my voice but I didn't much care by now, I was dizzy from exhaustion.

Richard had stood himself, and I found myself looking up at him all of a sudden, even in my heels. His face had taken on a harshness and a look that quickened my heart beat, and frightened me a little. I saw his eyes consider a thought with interest.

'The conference next week is not for the faint of heart, Nina. If you were to be here for that, you would need to work harder than you've worked before. I already have three others – Sam, Eve, Meredith – finalizing reports from their departments. But as my Assistant, you would be expected to put all their reports together.'

'I can do it, Richard.' I said with conviction. 

'You would need to be at the hotel for three days. I couldn't let you stay for just a day. Your family –'

'Three days is fine.' I said, hearing him about to capitulate.

'Can you indeed?' His voice was quiet, but I was sure, deceptively hiding some meaning, some bleak direction that I could only guess at. 

'One chance,' I pleaded. 

His eyes narrowed, watching me.

'And what would you do for another chance, I wonder?' A secret look came over his eyes.

My heart froze. Indeed, I understood very well where this was going. I thought of Amelia, my daughter, Hardy, my husband, and Mariella, all waiting for me to come home with the good news that I had finally found a permanent job. Hunter Innovations was my best chance. If I didn't get a long-term position at Hunter, there would be more hours pounding the pavements of the city to yet another interview, and I knew I could not do it again. Not just yet. 

Turning my face away from his piercing gaze, I whispered, as I focused on the map of the world on the wall behind his desk. 'Anything you want, Richard.'

There was silence for few seconds. With a small shock, I felt his fingers on my chin, pulling my gaze back to his face.

'Is that a deal?' He said. I wanted to flinch from the challenge on his face. I fought the urge however, and kept my eyes on his face. 

'Yes.' I said, expelling a deep breath. Satisfaction flared in his eyes, a kind of triumph. I knew what I was getting myself into. Then again, I didn't. But I'm a big girl now, I am. Surely I can handle a simple office romance. Sure you can, Nina, a sarcastic voice whispered in my head.

His thumb stroked my lower lip. It was such a real fulfilment of my little fantasy of a few seconds ago that I had to quell a shiver. I was going to move away from him, but his fingers firmly cupped my chin. 

'I am a harsh employer, Nina. You must have heard that, haven't you?' He murmured.

I nodded, unhappily. 

'I drive myself hard, and I drive everyone around me as hard. But I am also loyal to my staff.' 

I nodded at that too. I knew the staff at Hunter Innovations were the highest paid in the city. They were also treated like minor royalties. The three other managers for example, were working overtime, but a gourmet supper was to be brought up at 9.00 tonight, there were ready beds for a nap, towels for them in the bathroom, and a gym all on this same floor. And a hefty bonus awaited each of them after the conference. 

Yes, if I had to lower my morals some to bring food to my family, I would give him whatever he wanted.

His fingers around my chin tightened, and his other hand came up to behind my head to twine itself around my ponytail. I thought he would gently caress my hair, but he jerked at my pony, rendering my head and my face at an upward angle. I made a little sound, and my hands flew up of their own accord to hold the hand on my chin. I found his wrist, slightly matted with hair. He stared at my lips again, then flickered to my eyes. 

'I'm also a cruel man, Nina. When you tell me you'd do anything to keep a job here, you say the words that give me a lot of power over you. You make me feel things you should be afraid of. '

'Should I be afraid?,' I said in alarm. 'Richard?'

'No, Nina. There's nothing to be afraid of. But you should have run away while you could. It's too late now. We have a deal.' With a deft movement, he had both my wrists held together in an iron grip, while he pulled at my ponytail so I had no choice but to look up at him. His eyes had darkened into a stormy blue, and that was the last thing I saw before his lips clamped down on mine.

I had expected the kiss. It was the fire I didn't expect, the flames licking through me. He called himself cruel, and yes, it was a cruel kiss. It was not Hardy's staid peck-on-lips. This was a declaration of control. He gripped my ponytail expertly while he assaulted my lips. My wrists were released, his other hand encircled my neck like a collar. It was most frightening, erotic deed performed to me in my life life. 

I should have slapped at him with my freed hands, bit his tongue and ran, fled the office, from the building, screaming, and be rid of this dangerous farce I had inadvertently created. But I found he had zapped my will. The instant he bit my lip, my body involuntarily arched toward him, and an indecent image reared up in my mind: the image of his hard body above me blocking any light, thrusting his long, hard cock deep into me. Wet desire pooled between my thighs. I gasped against his lips, in shock. I had never felt this way with any man, Hardy included.

Richard wrenched his mouth from mine, and we stared at each other. The pupils of his eyes had turned so dark blue they were nearly black. He was breathing slow but hard, the breathing of a man who was exerting extreme control. Part of me feared him; I was not sure I would emerge from this unscathed. The other part of me gloried I was desired by a man like him.

'I'll give you a week,' he said roughly. I closed my eyes in a mixture of relief and apprehension, my body sagging against his. 'And If you please me, Nina, you can stay on a monthly contract, subject to review at the end of each month.' His voice softened. 'If you please me. . . in what I want.'

My uncertainty must have showed in my face. His face lost its harshness somewhat.

'Don't be afraid. I will never hurt you, Nina. You have always been special to me.' He smiled grimly. 

'But I must remind you. You did say, whatever I wanted, Nina.' It was a statement and a question. I was dumb in my quiet agitation. He shook me a little. 

'Nina, yes or no. Whatever I want?'

'Yes,' I whispered, after a moment.

'Is that a promise, Nina?' The fingers around my throat tightened a fraction. 

'Yes.' I whispered again, swallowing a ball of fear.

He relaxed then, sighing a little. He released me, and moved away and looked out his window into the darkening sky. 

I weakly fell back on the chair.

'It starts tonight." He turned to me, his hands aggressive on his hips.

I jumped up. 'No! Amelia. My daughter –'

'Call home. Tell them you're working overtime with the rest of the team.' He waved his hand indicating the three other staff just a few hundred feet away from his covered window. 'You will perform your extra duties, whenever I want, however I want, and wherever I want. And I want it now. Oh yes, you will work in the Penthouse. Starting tonight. Use my private elevator and meet me there in fifteen minutes.' He started walking away to a side door. I looked at him stupidly.

He paused at the door to give me a code to for the Penthouse lift's security system.

I shook myself out of my stupor.

'Penthouse? A mere personal assistant with offices in the Penthouse? How can I explain that to everyone else?' I flung at him in a spurt of anger. Only the Company Directors had offices in the Penthouse.

He stopped at the door and looked at me, surprised at my belated show of spirit.

'I'm not a moron, Nina. Of course, you will have a new position. One that will justify your working in the Penthouse with me. You are now a Consultant on contract. I appoint you. Now. I will increase your salary to match your new position.'

My breath caught in my throat. A Consultant's Contract for one month, and possibly, every month thereafter. It was a small fortune. But only if I pleased him. 

'Happy now?' He asked in all arrogance, pinning me with a hard look before he turned to go again, his hand on the knob.

I had one more thing to say. I had to make him understand I also had my own conditions. 'Richard, I will not be embarrassed in front of your employees. You will not ask me to do any... any act that will humiliate me.'

He stopped again, impatience in every line of his hard body. When I turned, I shivered under the coldness of his gaze. His eyes narrowed as he studied the mutinous apprehension on my face.

'Don't fight me, Nina. Make up your mind. Are you staying or going? If you're going, you don't come back in the morning. So one last time: yes or no?'

He had walked back to me, like a panther, irritation pinching his face. I trembled before him, and I clasped my hands to stop their shaking. 

'I have to know, Richard,' I said. 'What is it you want from me? It doesn't sound simply like an office affair.. or a few nights of .. of.. s-s-sex.' 

He simply stood there, looking down at me. Like a god deigning to speak to a weak mortal. But I stood my ground. I wanted to know what I was getting myself into, which definitely didn't sound like a safe office romance. It sounded like more than that: dark, hungry, angry. And I wanted to know now what it was.

His anger suddenly was no longer there. But in its place, was something I could not describe. I preferred his anger to this cold analytic contemplation. I suddenly felt I had to pee. He lifted a finger and caressed my cheek. I flinched. Even that involuntary reaction, he considered without expression.

'What I want?' He said, gently, almost friendly in a chilly way. The way a little boy would proceed to dismantle the wings of a butterfly. He took my hand, and began caressing it, playing with it as though deep in thought. He cocked his head, staring down at our entwined hands. When he looked up at me again, I nearly drowned in the blueness of his eyes. 'What I want is you in my life, Nina. I've always wanted you, didn't you know? What do I want?' His voice dropped to a rough murmur. 'I'll tell you what I dream of. I dream of you -- bound to me, chained to my bed, day and night. I dream of you wide open for me, just for me, all of your body, your soul, your mind, your beauty—'

He shook himself out his strange reverie and caressed my lips next with his thumb, while I stared at his mouth, not fully understanding the words that came out of it. Was he mad?

'I want all of you, Nina. Your anger, your fear, your pride, your submission –'

'Stop!' He sounded like he could go on and on, but I didn't want to hear anymore. I was seething at his words. I didn't fully understand what he wanted. He was talking in riddles. His words angered me nonetheless. And aroused me. I pulled my face away from his fingers, afraid he would read my body's arousal to his words as he touched my lips. 'It sounds like, ... it sounds like, you want a, a, a, s-slave, a s-s-slut!' 

He looked amused at that, and chuckled. 'Why, Nina. That's exactly what I'm trying to say. You told me you would be anything I wanted. And that's what I want. Of course, I'd rather you were my slave 24/7, but as you need to return home at night to that wimpy husband of yours, and to your lovely Amelia, I'll settle for Nina: My Office Slave. My Office Slut. How's that for a beginning? Thank you for helping me find the exact words.' 

His eyes were actually dancing now with mischief. I stared at him, mute, confused by his words as by the shifts of his moods.

Why was I not putting more of a resistance? I put it down to exhaustion, my hunger making me dizzy and submissive. An office s-- I could not even say the words again. Somehow, I had inadvertently landed myself in a bizarre situation. But how bad could it be? Many women have affairs with their boss. But a slave. Unbidden, an impossible yearning was slowly rising like a bubble from the bottom of deep dark lake. To be dominated . . . to be a slave. A quiet excitement built. How did he know that about me?

'I am still waiting for your final answer, Nina. My cards are all on the table. What will it be? Yes or no?'

Many people did strange things in life. Why would I be any different? He was not forcing me really. He had even given me a choice. Besides, the sex would not be forced either, from the damp evidence in my cotton panties.

'Yes.' I said it with my chin raised and my voice still quarrelsome. This time, I thought he might have hid a smile. Bastard.

He kissed my forehead, as if I was a little child, and disappeared into the corridor. 

I did what he said. I called home to Mariella, and talked briefly to little Amelia. I left his office, my briefcase and coat with me. I said goodbye to the other three staff members as if I was going home for the day. Meredith teased me saying, that Richard was letting me go home early tonight and sleep because I'd be working the hardest for the next few days, doing non-stop editing and revision. Oh, if she only knew.

To my profound relief, none of them walked with me to the lifts. No one noticed I entered the private lift that would take me directly up to the Penthouse. I punched in the security code, took deep breaths as I was catapulted to the top of the building, then I was at the foyer of Richard Hunt's domain. He opened a door at the end of a hallway before I could decide what to do, making me suspect he had his eyes trained on a camera which showed my approach. 

He ushered me without ceremony into his office suite. I knew that Hunter had bedroom suites behind the offices for guests and for when the executive directors and managers needed to work overnight. I had also heard that Richard kept business and family strictly separate. He never slept here. He went home to his wife faithfully every night.


An Office Slave Ch. 01



His office was enormous, more like a library, with a large oak conference table near a great window overlooking the city. My gaze skimmed over comfortable and sturdy chairs and couches, a globe, some indoor plants, and classic paintings. My eyes were drawn to one that looked like a rural scenery. What caught my eye was the figure of a woman on the ground looking towards the farmhouse. I had seen a photograph of that painting and I remember having thought: what was she doing? It was a captivating piece of work, and I was tempted to ask Richard what the painting was about. Preposterous. We were not here to discuss art.

Everything was in rich mahogany red and brown tones. On two sides of the room were book shelves from top to bottom, wall to wall, and on the shelves hundreds of books, leather-bound and otherwise, and magazines, perhaps in the thousands. A round table with a vase of flowers also offered decanters of liquids in various tints of red, gold, amber, pink and purple. There was a piano there as well, nearly hidden in an alcove. And there in one corner, naturally blending in were three computers, a printer, several telephones, filing cabinets and three working desks. 

Was I to work on one of them? 

It was every inch, a purely masculine study, but I heard the strains of a waltz playing in the background, so soft. I was comforted by the music.

I was rudely reminded of why I was there, when he took my briefcase and coat from me and dropped them on a low chair against a wall a few feet from the painting of the woman. He didn't waste any time. He propelled me towards the centre of the room, he dimmed the lights and sat on a chair facing me. I stood in front of him feeling uncertain, like a girl guilty of some wrongdoing.

'Take your clothes off, Nina.' 

My dread bloomed dark. He was looking at me with a look that held so much.. hunger.

'Richard,' I whispered. 'Please, not like this...'

'Did you expect romance, Nina? Surely not?' With an impatient sigh, he stood up again, and took the few steps to stand in front of me, his hands loosely on his hips. 'Now, take your clothes off. We don't have much time.'

'I..., I..., I...no, I...' I was shaking in my embarrassment, and the humiliation that he would discover the wetness of my underpants.

My body was heating up and I could feel my face flushing. But I was frozen in my shoes, I opened my mouth to speak again, but he said, in a rather rough growly voice, 'Stow it, Nina.' He propelled me to the blank space on the wall between the woman-on-the-ground painting and the chair that held my briefcase.

He stripped me of my clothes. With deft fingers he unbuttoned my white tailored blouse, and had it off my shoulders in seconds. I fought him silently, pushing at him and slapping his hands. But he was too strong, too protected by his clothes to even feel my strongest blow. He tossed my shirt towards the chair, it landed over my briefcase. My skirt was next, and I was left in my white lace bra and panties, and my black high heeled shoes. The whole time I fought him until he trapped my half naked body with his hips, his hands on the wall on either side of my head. 

I found I was panting. Everything was moving so quickly and my reflexes were virtually dead. But my body felt alive. Gloriously alive.

'Let's talk about this, Richard.' I said, hating the shrillness of my voice. My hands were on his crisp shirt front trying to hold him off. I feared I would hyperventilate. My vision was swimming slightly. I had worked all day without eating and I was feeling the effects now. He responded by pinning my wrists high above me and shoving my legs apart with his knees.

'No talking now, Nina,' he muttered. His eyes narrowed and he looked down at my hips. I knew then he could smell my arousal. He looked at me in question. He transferred one of my wrists to his other hand. His hands were big enough to clamp my two wrists together on the wall above me. His legs further forced my legs open and his other hand went down to cup me inside my panties, to feel me... there. Oh. I closed my eyes.

'Nina. My dear, you're soaking wet.' He caressed me there, gently opening my labia.

I whimpered and turned my face away from his gaze. I was afraid he could see my thoughts, my want. Yes, my want. I had not whimpered in fear. I wanted him to touch me, to pinch sensitive flesh, to push those long hard fingers in me, one, two, three.

'Open your eyes.' He ordered quietly. I kept them closed, my face averted in shame. 

'Open!' He said, this time harshly. I squeezed my eyes even tighter, and one finger plunged in completely, powerfully, so unexpectedly my eyes flew open and I gave a small cry. I felt his erection grow long and hard against my hip.

'Good God, Nina.' He said with a short laugh. 'I could take you right now.' He removed his finger out of me long enough to stretch my arms further up, trapping my wrists with his forearm against the wall. He then put his foot on the rung of the chair beside us and lifted one of my legs to hook it over his bent knee. He lifted that knee, stretching me wide open to further assault. Dimly I could hear the chamber music through the walls, so soft, so romantic; so incongruous with the scenario being played out here: my initiation as a sexual object.

He pushed the crotch of my panties aside and began feeling me again. His finger had no problem entering. My thighs were wide apart, my wetness making me slick. He watched me as he slid his finger in again. Slow, then.. Slam. Slam. Two fingers. Slam, the force of his violation shaking my breasts. He circled the inside of my vagina, drawing more wetness and making me squirm. His palm pressed against my clitoris, about to drive me crazy. 

And he was talking, murmuring in my ear.

'You're mine, Nina. While you're here in the Penthouse, you're mine. I can do anything to you. Like this. More of this, more than this, more of this, and this. I'll make you forget who you are. Here, you are no one, but my whore.' He punctuated his words with his fingers shoving them roughly into me proving to me that I was totally under his domination.

I shook my head, moaning.

He watched me, as his fingers went faster, deeper. But he watched me coldly, like I was a science experiment, while I burned and fought to keep my emotions hidden. But however much I tried, I could not contain my breathless moaning. 

'Am I hurting you, love?' He asked, his eyes ever intent, always reading my face, as he continued to tease me, deep within me. 

'No.' I moaned. I looked away in shame. How could I feel this way? He had me in his power and I was reveling in it. 

'Look at me. I want to see your eyes. Your lovely eyes, Nina.' 

My eyes found his, and I saw cold victory in his. And I gloried in it. We stared at each other, recognising each other. He was Master, I was Slave. But I could not face the truth without shame. So I closed my eyes. 

'Nina.' Slam. Slam. Slam. His palm slapped against my clitoris, driving me up against the wall each time he plunged in. It felt like three fingers now, he was stretching me wide and touching nerve endings that were catching fire. Then slow light massages, then deep plunges in quick succession. My breasts shook. I felt every thrust so keenly, as he brought me so successfully towards a climax. I prepared for it, my body clenched. But then he slowed.

'No,' I cried, agonised, my voice guttural. 'Finish it. Richard!'

Then he stopped altogether and I could have screamed, was I not so determined to control my reactions.

He slipped his fingers out and wiped them on my panties. He massaged my panties against my wetness, and I felt the oozing slipperiness of the friction. I squirmed, pressing against his rock hard erection. 

'What are you waiting for, Richard?' I asked, fierce with a frustration I was loathe to admit. 'Let's get this over and done with!' I struggled to push myself away from the wall.

'That's what you want, isn't it?' He murmured wryly, as his eyes roamed my face. 'But that's not what you're here for. Remember, you're here for whatever I want, Nina.' His eyes hooded as he looked down at my breasts still hidden in my bra. I could feel the clench of his fingers around my wrists and dimly had the idea that he could break both of them without even trying. 

'What game are you playing?' I hissed at him, trying to close my legs against his knees. 

He laughed low, and maintained a firmer stance. Still staring at my breasts, he massaged first one and then the other, pulling at my nipples. He cupped each of them, releasing them from my bra. He flicked one of them, and then the other. 

'I've been wanting to do this all day, Nina,' he murmured as he lowered my arms. 'I've watched you lead the others on – Sam, Mike, and even old Mr Bentley. I've seen how you let them touch you, be close to you since Monday, while all I could do was watch.'

He reached into his pocket for his white handkerchief. To my shock, he deftly arranged my hands behind me and tied my wrists securely with his hanky. My heart racketed up a notch. 

'I don't know what you're talking about. I don't lead anybody around.' 

He returned his attention to my breasts.

'Oh, but you do, my dear. Don't tell me you don't know what you do to everyone here. Smiling at a man like he was the most important person in the world to you.' He traced circles around my nipples. 'You always gave me that feeling, Nina. That I was special to you. But then I realised you smiled at everyone that way.'

He bent down and pulled my breasts to his lips. He suckled my nipples, taking them in as much as his mouth could suck in. I arched my back and mewled at the sensation.

My head was whirling around, partly of my growing hunger, and partly because of the discovery that here he was, Richard, of all people, was fulfilling a fantasy of mine, to be dominated by a man, to be used for his pleasure. A play thing. A fantasy so secret I had never ever told anyone before, not to Hardy, not even to my best friend. 

'Please, Richard.' I whispered, pleading for something I wasn't sure of myself. His hand pulled at my ponytail again, turning it this way and that, giving him access to all the sensitised parts of my neck. I whimpered. 

'Up here, Nina, you call me Mr Hunt. There is no Richard here for you. I am not your friend or even your employer, I am your master and you.. are... my...slave.' He gave me a particularly harsh bite on my shoulder. I cried out. But he bit harder, emphasising each bite with words which were meant to mortify me: 'My. Office. Slut.' Tears of pain and humiliation sprang to my eyes. 

'Please,' I was going to tell him to stop, but the pain had zinged a straight path to my wet center, making it swell and replaced by a craving so strong, an incredible lust.

He sucked at a particularly sensitive spot under my ear. I bucked against him. 'Please. . .'

'Please, what, Nina,' he murmured, while sucking on my earlobe. ''Please fuck me to high heaven, Mr Hunt? Is that what you want to say, Nina? ' I flinched at his language. 

'All in fucking good time, my dear.' He sucked on the skin behind my ear. I cringed, not at the words but at the fact that he was using them. I could never imagine Richard Hunt speaking this way. He had always been courteous to me and everyone around him. 

'Please, Mr Hunt, stop!' I pleaded. But I knew I could not win this battle. It was a battle for my will, a battle I had already lost.

'No,' he growled. 'I'm not going to stop, Nina. And you talk too much.' 

He turned me all of a sudden and stood me against the back of a single sofa. 

He was behind me, pressing the front of my thighs against the back of the couch, so my upper body was forced forward. In another instant, he gagged me with what I felt to be another handkerchief. 

I moaned in protest and struggled, but his body pinned me tighter to the back of the couch.

His callused hands stripped my bra down my stomach and squeezed my breasts. From behind, he was tall enough that he could look down at where his hands were. His hands weighed my breasts, and squeezed them this way and that way, as though he could not get enough of them. 

Then he stepped down and dragged my panties down. I had my thighs tight together, but he prised them apart, lifting me, and kicking my panties aside and pushing me over the couch. At the front I felt the rough upholstery against my bare stomach. At my back, I felt the coolness of the air. Because of my bound arms, I could not purchase any balance, and fell forward onto the seat of the couch. 

He grappled with my legs. I felt his hands grasp my inner thighs and pulled them wider still and pressed his hip against my them. His erection through his trousers was impossibly long and hard. Holding me down that way, he leaned over and gently released my hair from its pony tail, and my black hair surrounded my face obscuring what little light there was in the room. Then he began his exploration of my back, caressing my bare spine, the curve of my waist and my bottom. 

He pulled at my hips and thighs, setting me up for what was next. I heard his zipper being managed down. One more second, and his cock entered me in one swift shove and I groaned in my gag. 

'Nina.' He said, again and again. 'Nina. Nina.'

He was so large, and long. I squirmed to adjust to his sudden invasion. He gave me that, at least. He shifted until he was sure I was comfortable with his entry. He held himself relaxed for awhile, only gently moving, rotating slowly, as though feeling me inside. He continually stroked me like I was a horse, gentling my skittishness. 

Then the gentleness disappeared as he started fucking me hard, sliding into me back and forth like an automated pleasure tool. Oh. I could hear the wetness of my walls urging him on. My internal walls clutched at him each time he passed, my pussy crying in her delight while my mind slowing floated into a mindless euphoria born out of pleasure and hunger. 

His fucking pressed me heavily forward, back down on the seat, my face rubbing on the couch seat with an age old rhythm. I could feel the roughness of the upholstery on my cheek, could smell the fabric shampoo. The couch, like me, jerked with his force. My eyes were mostly shut but when I did open it was to see nothing but the darkness that was my hair, bouncing to his rhythm. My bound wrists ensured I was totally helpless, my body shaking to his dance. 

He pleasured me that way with long, hard strokes. His hands held my hips wide and still for his pounding exercise. A delight I could not help built like a storm, as he totally broke through any of my reluctance. And I came with a scream the same time that he groaned. He gripped my hips forcefully as he slammed into me one last time and flooded me with his juices. 

I did not get to indulge in the aftermath of my exhilarating release, as blackness roared through me.

I cried out in my gag, my voice rising in my fright. He pulled me from the couch, and stood me before him. 'Nina? Oh, shit.' I fainted then.

The next thing I knew, he was putting my clothes expertly back on with very little help from me. I slipped in and out of consciousness, but I was aware he brought me home. Mariella was there opening the door, scolding him to high heaven. I don't know how I got into my own bed. But sometime later, I was aware of my husband Hardy's sleeping warmth behind me, his arm resting on my hip. I think he might have kissed me, but then I must have been dreaming. I went back to sleep again.

____________

This is an excerpt from a novella that will soon be uploaded into the novella section. Please comment and tell me what you think.



An Office Slave Ch. 02



When I awoke next, the sun had risen. Hardy was gone from my side. A small, soft three-year old little girl bundle lay in my arms – my daughter Amelia. Sleepily, I stared at her baby face with an almost painful joy flooding through my being, an emotion I get whenever she was near. 

Sometimes, when Hardy would have to leave early in the morning for work, he would lift Amelia from her little bed and transfer her to my side like he did today. Usually I would feed upon the happiness that gave me, and savour the feeling that all was well in my life. 

This morning, however, I remembered last night, its memories darkening my first waking moments. My heart hammered painfully in my breast as images of Richard Hunt burned hot in my closed eyelids. I clutched at the warm comfort Amelia's little self provided, carefully not squeezing her too much. I thought back to how everything started, two weeks ago, how I thought I could be so smart, so sophisticated, but ended up being so naive, so stupid as to start something I thought I could control. 

It all began with Frankie Gillespie.

[Flashback to two weeks ago]

'Hardy, look.' I said, my pruning of the ivy crawling up our veranda wall forgotten for the moment. I looked down from the third floor of our brownstone onto Tiller Street, where a police car was parked facing south. It was a quiet Saturday morning with my husband Hardy and little daughter Amelia on the shaded balcony having our usual weekend breakfast together. But voices had begun to be heard, agitated and arguing, breaking the peace of our breakfast.

Hardy came up to stand beside me. I looked around at the other buildings lining Tiller Street. There were other people who had come out onto other balconies to see what drama was going to unfold . 

We heard it before we saw it. A woman's screech, 'Don't you go with them, Frank! Frank! No, no! Don't take him please! Frank!' Then we saw them. It was Frankie Gillespie, I saw with a shock, whom the cops were leading out of his home, handcuffed, hair still wet presumably from his morning shower--Frankie, one of our neighbours, who owned a chain of bakeshops around Minneapolis and St Paul. Frankie, a sweet and quiet Italian man, who had sweet gingerbread biscuits for Amelia, and a fancy bag of dinner rolls for me at least once a week. 

'Oh, Hardy. It's Frankie...' My voice trailed off. 

'Shit,' Hardy swore quietly. 'They've found him out.'

I looked at him, startled. Hardy hardly every cursed. 'What do you mean?'

He swore again under his breath, and glanced over his shoulder at Amelia, whose attention towards the wooden puzzle in front of her had not waned. 

'What is it, Hardy? What's he done?' I persisted, lowering my voice. I looked back down where Frankie's wife, Meliana, was now crying softly at the doorway of their home, her face buried on the shoulder of their daughter. 

'Drugs.' Hardy said in a low voice, nearly biting out the word. 'He's been approaching bankruptcy. So he started distributing drugs, hiding packets of them in loaves of bread that went out to his dealers.'

I stared at him. 'But, but... How did you know this?'

Hardy looked at me, a sad smile on his face. 'He sold me a loaf of ciabatta with a packet of heroin by mistake once. I confronted him about it straight away, so I've known for a long time.' 

I was stunned into silence. We watched the police car move away, and poor Meliana as she was led back in to her home quietly sobbing.

Hardy slipped an arm around my shoulder and turned me away from the balcony railing. Our breakfast had gone cold, and our Saturday morning ruined.

That night, in his arms in the aftermath of a slow, lazy lovemaking, I stroked his chest. 

'I'm glad you're not like that, Hardy.' I said.

'Hmm?' 

'You know, like Frankie.' I was pleasurably sliding into sleep.

'Hmm... You mean you wouldn't have married me if I was a drug lord or, a ... a pimp, maybe?' His voice, low and sexy, sent reverberations around his chest where my head lay. I laughed softly. 

'But, of course not,' I said. 'You'd never do something like that ...' I expected him to deny it, maybe even laugh at me. But there was silence, a strange quiet in the darkness that pulled me out of my lethargy. 

'Would you?' Silence. 'Hardy?'

'Of course not, Neen.' He said. But I heard it - the hesitancy, the 'but'. "But there are times when I think of, well, things.'

'Things?' I laughed. 'Well, they can't be as bad as what Frankie did.' Silence. 'Could they?'

He gently moved me off his chest and positioned me on my back, nudging my legs open. I giggled. 

'Oh, Hardy. Again?' He kissed me deeply, then drew back to study my face in the moonlight. 

'Tell me, Neen. Would you love me still if I told you everything that I am?' 

I peered up at him in the moonlit darkness. 

'Hardy, you're being weird. Stop it.'

'Am I?' He said softly. And he slid into me and rocked me. I wanted to continue the strange conversation but I fell into immediate sleep after another pleasant orgasm. 

Two days later, my cousin Lara called me to announce the end of her 15-year-old marriage. 

'But why?' I asked, shocked and dismayed. I had always looked up to Roy, her husband, or soon-to-be Ex. As Roy was one of Hardy's closest buddies, it was Roy and Lara who introduced Hardy to me. 

'Oh, the usual.' Lara said flippantly, her voice edged with anger. 'I found out he had a mistress. He's been visiting her at a club – a gentleman's club, Neen. Can you believe it? He has a membership in a gentleman's club, and wait for it,... a club where they can pay to lease, repeat, lease a woman, for like maybe a month, or a year. Like a fucking car.'

'Who's taking the children?' 

'I am, of course, and I'm taking him to the cleaners as well.' She started to cry over the phone. 'The nerve of the man, Neen. He said he did it because I didn't enjoy, and I quote, Neen, the marriage bed, unquote. Well fuck him, the little pervert.'

That night, after putting Amelia to bed, Hardy and I sat side by side against our pillows, our respective novels open on our laps. I read about a chapter and then gave up.

'Hardy,' I started tentatively.

'Hmm.'

'Would you love me still if I went bad?'

'Mmm.' His eyes remained glued on his page.

'Hardy.'

He sighed. He put his book down on his lap. 

'What are we talking about, Neen? Is this about Lara and Roy?'

'No.' I said, uncertain how to go on. I thought about my words carefully. 

'Neen.' He said, a warning in his voice.

'Hardy, last week you asked me if I would have married you if I knew about your nasty secrets –' He expelled a gust of a laugh. 

'I should have known that wasn't the last of it.' He plucked my book from my hands and place it and his on top of the drawers beside his side of the bed. 'Now talk.'

'I've been thinking about what you said.'

'What did I say?'

'You asked me if I would still love you if you told me everything you are.'

He stiffened. 'So, NOW you want me to tell you?'

'I don't know, Hardy. Maybe I don't want to know, you know?'

He sighed. 'So I won't tell you.' He dragged a hand over his hair. 'Happy now?'

'Well, Hardy. What if I've done something bad? Would YOU want to know?'

An exasperated snort. 'Of course, I would! And I would still love you. Is this what this is about?'

'Hardy.' I took a deep breath. 'Do you have a secret life?'

'No! For God's sake. Neen!'

'Do you have a mistress? Like Roy?'

'No!' It was an expletive. 'I do not, Neen. No!'

'Well, do you want to?'

Silence. Oh my God. 

'No.' He said, emphatic. 'No.' But it was too late. I had heard the change in his voice. 

'You want to, don't you?'

'I..., I... No, I don't, Neen.' He got out of bed. 'This is ridiculous, Nina.' I followed him. He went into the kitchen and the fridge and poured himself a cold glass of water. Then one for me too. He sat down at the kitchen table. I sat down across from him. 

He passed his hand down his face and looked at me. Then he took my cold hands in his. 

'What's on your mind, Nina?' He asked wearily.

Somewhere in my mind, a warning voice whispered. Think, Nina, before you say things that cannot be undone. I gripped his hands as though I was afraid of falling. My mouth had suddenly gone dry. I licked my lips, and took a deep breath. 

'Do you love me, Hardy?'

He simply gave me an irritated look, an eyebrow raised. 'Next question,' he said sarcastically.

'And I love you, okay?' I smiled at him, my lips not quite steady.

He rolled his eyes.

'But, Hardy, what if we loved each other only because everything is good and happy in our lives?' He opened his mouth to interrupt, to perhaps angrily deny what I was saying. I rushed on, tightening my grip on his fingers. 'What if we loved each other only because we weren't truthful to each other? Or to ourselves? What if the moment we'd each find out who the other really is, we'd run away? Like.. like Lara and Roy?'

He pulled his hands out of my grip and put them up, like he was warding off an evil presence. He stood up and looked down at me, annoyance written all over his body language. I had said my piece, a most damaging theory. And I wondered at my daring. Where would it lead? I wanted to close my eyes, but I opened them wide instead, forcing myself to watch him, my foolish heart pounding in my chest, silently urging him to understand what I wanted from him. The truth, and in spite of it, a stronger love between him and me. Oh, I was ever the idealist.

'So, you're saying your love isn't real then. Is that what you're saying?' He said, hurt in his voice.

'I... -'

'You've saying, if I tell you, if I expose you to all the dirt in me, you'd disappear from my life.' It was a statement. He wanted me to confirm it. 

'No!' I burst out. 'That's exactly what I'm NOT saying!'

'Then what, Nina?' He only called me Nina when he was upset with me. And he had called me Nina since he had stood up from the bed. 'What do you want?'

'I want... I want... everything, Hardy.' I was rooted to my chair, my hands clutching the sides of the table, feeling the loss of the warmth of his hands. 'I want the good and the bad. I want to know all about you ... and still love you.' I could not stand to be away from him, so I stood up abruptly and went around the table to stand beside him. But I could not touch him; he had turned to stone, staring at the kitchen cupboards with eyes that hid his thoughts. It was the first time I sensed him so far away from me, as though he felt I was the enemy.

I forced my hand up to cup his cheek. My God, he flinched at my touch. I drew his face to look at me, and he allowed himself to be turned.

'I don't care what you've done, Hardy. I love you. But I want to know everything about you, and still love you. I don't want you to think I'm a shallow wife.' He put his hand on mine on his cheek. 

'You're not a shallow wife, Neen. I never think that.'

'But how do you know?' I asked softly. 'Have you tested me, Hardy?'

'So you'll just take it all? All my rubbish, is that what you're saying?' He had a wry look on his face, like he was already judging himself. And me. I licked my lips nervously and his eyes took on a hard look, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

'Yes.' I swallowed hard. 'And, and... And mine too. My rubbish, I mean. I want you to know my, my dirt too.' His eyes flew up back to my eyes, and narrowed. I lowered my hand from his face, suddenly fearful, but I wanted this said.

'Like what?' He was so still, like someone waiting, with bated breath, the sting of a wound when touched with alcohol.

'There are many things I want to.. tell you -- about me.' My courage ran out then and I tensed. He grabbed my shoulders to stop me pulling away.

'Like what? For God's sake, Nina. What?'

'I – '

'No!' As quick as lightning, he had a finger on my lips. We stared at each other and I read a fear in his eyes. The same fear that I knew had to be in mine. I should have, at this moment, laughed and said, Forget it, Hardy. But that the fears were there told me to pursue this, that there were secrets to uncover, like Pandora's Box. 

But Pandora's Box was not only about the bad things in life, but also the good. There were treasures in life and in love. And I wanted them all. I wanted to open our own box, and find that our love would stay strong and true to the end. 

I did break the tension then with a brittle laugh. 'I only wanted to say I didn't know how to tell you.'

'Good.' He said, relieved. 'Because I don't know if I want to hear. Just yet, anyway.' He gathered me in his arms. 'You're brave, Neen. Braver than anyone else I know. But I don't know about me. I don't know.'

He held me close to him, his lips on my temple, until he said, 'Let's go to bed.'

But we didn't make love that night.



An Office Slave Ch. 03



[Note from the author: Sorry, this is another short one. It is the second part of the flashback, so it will set the stage for Chapter 4 which will have more action.]

[Flashback continuation]

The next Saturday, we took Amelia to the park by the lake for a picnic lunch. Minnesota summers are glorious, and on weekends like these, the park was our favorite spot. After lunch, Hardy took Amelia down to the water to feed the loons, herons and turtles, an exercise that Amelia loved. 

I remember spending many hours here at this very lake back in high school, reading my books under the tree, and well, waiting for Hardy to realise I was the love of his life. 

I had known him since we were in primary school. When I was in 7th Grade and he was in 10th, he had a job at the doughnut shop that stood at the east corner of this park. 

The doughnut shop wasn't there anymore, but I remember it like yesterday, and the young boy Hardy serving doughnuts. That doughnut shop made a killing just because of Hardy. Each and everyday, I would count not less than 20 girls from school who came to buy doughnuts and to chat him up. I never did it, of course. I didn't know how to flirt for the life of me. But I watched him over the rim of my books.

He never noticed me as the girl of his dreams, sadly. Eventually, I stopped hanging around the park but I met him again years later when I went to work as Project Manager at Hunter Innovations, a company his father started. To my surprise, I did catch his eye then, and he married me. 

I turned my attention to them now, my small family. Hardy, much taller than me, six feet, to be exact. Blonde hair with dark roots, so handsome with his long thin nose that flared every now and then depending on what he was thinking. 

Eyes of blue that turns dark as to be nearly black when we would make love. Mouth that was always ready to smile at me, simply because I made him want to laugh, he said once, although I'm not sure if that's good or bad. 

And Amelia, an exact baby girl replica of Hardy, as cute as a button whose cheeks were now so pink from the sun that I thought it was high time we went home.

Hardy had been chasing Amelia for what my watch showed me was a full half hour. No wonder my daughter was now draped over his shoulder, all exhausted, sweaty, and fully satisfied, her emotional tank all but overflowing. 

We walked back to Tiller Street in companionable silence. I did think it was a bit too silent though. Something was on his mind.

I was putting Amelia to her afternoon nap when he appeared behind me, watching me in the mirror. I pulled at Amelia's bed sheets unnecessarily, strangely not wanting to look at him. 

'What?' I said, finally. 

He jerked his head towards the hallway, and I followed him to the living room. He turned me around to face him. 

'You're right.' He said. 'I want you to know me, everything about me.' I expelled a gust of air. 'And,-' he put up a hand to stop me from speaking. 'And I want to know everything that I don't know about you.'

I was bemused by this turn of events. 

'And,' he looked at me with a warning in his eyes. 'I want us to keep on staying together after knowing it all.' He ran his hands up and down my bare arms. 'No running.'

My mouth had gone dry. I attempted a joke. 'Sort of, like, airing our really dirty laundry to each other, hey?' But underneath my bravado, my self-righteousness, I had begun to cringe. If he knew me, if he knew what I had done... Oh God, Nina, Nina, shouldn't you have kept your mouth shut? My dirty laundry was best kept hidden if I wanted to keep this man. But some demon in me wanted to tell him; it had to be told! and dare him to still love me as his wife despite it. And so similarly, I must dare myself to also see him in all honesty.

'But I feel telling is not as effective as doing it, Neen.'

'What do you mean?' I asked, curious.

'Well,' he said carefully. 'This rubbish thing you so want me to reveal to you – a lot of them concerns you, Neen.'

'What do you mean?' I asked again, this time feeling a prick of foreboding.

'Neen, you're my wife, okay?' It wasn't easy for him, but at least he was trying. 'I love you. You understand that, right?'

I nodded, warily.

'If we have to do this, I want to do it all the way, my way. No half-baked confessions, or nothing like that. It's eating me up now, since you brought it up, Neen, so I want to get it out of my system. You won't understand me if I just tell you; I have to show you. Do you know what I mean?'

'No, I don't know what you mean, Hardy.' And I was nervously thinking of what I thought he had hinted at last week, that he might be wanting a mistress, like what Roy did. 'Do you want me to watch you have sex with another woman, is that it?'

And if Hardy did ask me to do something like that, what would I do other than kill him?

A laugh escaped him. He rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen, punched a beer open for himself. My eyes followed him but all I could see was Hardy kissing another woman, undressing her, and -

My heart went cold and I felt dizzy. I shook the image away and he was there in front of me, with a cold coke for me. 

'Do we have to do this then?' I asked, appalled my voice had come out as a whine.

He faked a lecherous leer. 'Getting chicken, are you? Yes, we ARE going to do it. You had me when you said you had things in your closet too. And I want to know what Nina Hunter does when Hardy's away at work. So what is it, you looking at naughty pictures now?' He barked a laugh which he cut short at the look on my face. 

'Okay, seriously now.' He moved away from me, gulping cold beer, looking at one of my paintings on the wall. 

'When I first saw you at Hunter, you were presenting a case to Dad about Troy Valentine's deal, remember that one? You were such a smart cookie, and Dad said you had a mind like a trap, but all I thought- well, I just thought you were the prettiest girl.' He didn't look at me, and I clutched at the coke. 

'You married me and not Victor Belnave, thank God.' He barked another laugh, still staring at the painting. He gulped down more beer, raised his beer bottle to the painting in salute, and turned away from it, standing in front of me again. 

'I love you, Neen. And now, after 5 years, it's like I love you even more, and when we, we, well, you know, have sex, I love it, Neen. You know that...'

I stared at him, my throat suddenly tight. So it wasn't only me dissatisfied with the sex. They did say that most divorces happened in the first 5 years of marriage. Was it because of the tired sex? Was it because of boredom? Infidelity like Roy and Lara? Was it the lies? Would he divorce me if he knew what I had done?

'I have to know this won't change a thing between us.' He looked at me, uncertain. 

'I started this, Hardy. I promise I will listen to you and nothing will change how I feel for you. I promise –'

'You could hate me in the end, Nina.'

'No, I won't, Hardy. Tell me!' My voice had risen. 'You can't not tell me now!' Do you really want to hear this? My brain screamed at me.

He pulled a chair in front of me and sat down with his legs apart. He put his beer on the floor, and dropped his head in his hands. When he looked up again, he had a look about him I very rarely associated with my mild-mannered, sometimes absent-minded Hardy, a look that was quite eerie, seeing it directed at me. Like he was seeing me for the first time, so focused and alert to what I would do next.

I realised as I looked at him I was seeing his 'office' personality, one he never brought home to me and Amelia. He was always Hardy, sweet, gentle Hardy to me. But I had seen this other side of him sometimes at the office, and often observed that with that persona, he exacted obedience and compliance from everyone at Hunter. It was part of being Boss, I knew, but it was a part of him I had never wanted to know.

'For the next two weeks, I want you to go to the office, Neen. Start on Monday. I'll tell everyone we need your help with the coming conference. You can do the summaries again, and the powerpoint slides. Then on Wednesday, when I come back from New York, tell Mariella to stay overnight. In fact, ask her if she could stay until Friday, as we'd be coming home late from work every night. And then there's the conference, of course. You'll be needed at the hotel. Maybe Mom can have Amelia during that time. There's something I want to show you, what I want you to do. Like I said, if you want to understand me, I'd have to show it to you.'

'Dear God, Hardy, can't you just tell me?'

He fidgeted in his chair, smiled crookedly, and said, 'I want an affair –'

'I don't want to see it—' I erupted, again seeing him in the arms of that imaginary woman.

'-- and I want it with you.'

'What?' I said, nonplussed. 

'But not, you as my wife, but as a, ... a... help me here, Neen.'

'A mistress,' I said, light dawning. 'You want an office affair with me as your mistress.'

He stood up, side-stepped his beer bottle, and held my upper arms gently. 

'I want you to play-act with me, Nina. I want you to act like I wasn't me and I want you to forget you are you while we're in our roles.' 

'Well, that would be really hard, Hardy. Are you serious?' I was heady with relief. He wanted an office romance with me. Unbelievable. But sweet.

'Yes. I am. And I've thought it through. We could play it out at the Penthouse, nowhere else. I know you don't like going to the Penthouse, but I don't want to play it out here, at home, or at the lower office.' I tamped down a shiver. 

'I'll act like I was your mistress?' I said, whispering as though I thought someone was there to hear. But who was I kidding? I whispered so he would not hear the excitement growing in me. No, I didn't want to show it. I was a big phoney, but I was not ready to show I was intensely interested in this play-acting plan of his.

'We wouldn't call each other our real names. No, on second thought, I will call you Nina, but I will be – Richard.' I did shiver then. Richard is what everyone calls Hardy. Only I call him Hardy, a nickname from his childhood, short for Hardington, his middle name. 

'What else?' I whispered, caught up now in this charade, a confession of sorts, this role play of my husband's fantasies.

'We won't bring any of this home. I'll come back from New York on Wednesday, then we'll start it, okay, Neen?'

I nodded, my mind racing over the possible details of such a situation. 

'What if I lose my nerve? Or laugh out loud in the middle of play-acting? And what ever will I say?'

'Hmm. Good point. We'll play it by ear, but okay, here's the story.' He led me to the long sofa and pulled me down beside him, his hand twined in mine. 'You're working in my team, but you're only temporary. You need the job, but I'm about to fire you. You need this job, so you beg me. And then I force you to be my mistress. How's that?'

I was dumbfounded. He certainly knew the script. 'Is this like an ongoing fantasy of yours, Hardy? Have you been thinking about this a lot?' 

He looked at me sideways, a quirky, self-effacing grin on his face. 'Oh, just since I first saw you presenting to Dad, and every now and then. And everyday since you brought the damned subject up. And there's more...'

'More.' I echoed. 'Sure, let's hear more.'

'You're desperate to have a job, and you've worked at the company before, but you left to get married.' 

'Well, that at least is partly true.' I worked at Hunter for only three years, When I gave birth to Amelia, I left to be a full-time mother.

'In your role, you left the company to marry this other guy, and I've never forgiven you for it. So I want to get back at you by forcing you into this... this affair. And oh, by the way, that guy you married – he happens to be a wimp who can't satisfy you. And so you have fantasies about me. About Richard, I mean, hahaha.' 

I laughed nervously. 

And he told me all the rules. We were to promise that the play-acting would not affect our home life, or even our office life. I was only too glad to agree to that. I liked most of the people at the office, and my frequent visits to the office to help out during conferences and investor meetings were always met with much camaraderie. And then of course, I would never agree to something that will cause strife in our home. We had Amelia whom we both loved to pieces, and I knew Hardy would never do anything that would hurt our daughter. 

It was to go on for a week, but I could choose to stop the whole thing if I was too uncomfortable about it. We were to speak a 'truce phrase' – and we agreed on a phrase that both of us would never use normally, play-acting or otherwise – 'Remember Maine' – in reference to the burning of a United States warship that started the US-Spanish war more than 100 years ago. How fitting. 

If I could not accept what he was trying to show me, all I had to do was say 'Remember Maine.' And we would simply drop everything, acknowledge that that 'thing' existed between us, but would not speak of it again.

By the end of the seven days, he said, he would have gotten it out of his system, and we would stop his fantasy. And then, he said, 'Then it would be your turn next, to show me all your naughty business.'

We were not to discuss the role-play game when we were in our 'real' lives. If we were to speak of it at all, we were to refer to these roles using the words 'he' and 'she'.

'What about the conference?' I asked. If we were to do this role play seven days from Wednesday, that would take us through the conference which was being held from Monday to next Wednesday.

'Simple. We play act in the hotel room.' He HAD thought of everything.

'Can we still... call it off? I mean, now?' I asked worriedly. 

He sprang forward, and pulled me to my feet. 

'Too late, Neen. Remember, it starts on Wednesday when I get back from New York.' He kissed me fiercely, biting my lip.

I drew back with a gasp. He had never bit me before. Ever. He was wrong there about starting on Wednesday. For him, this had already begun.



An Office Slave Ch. 04



THURSDAY

I lay there with my cheek pressed to Amelia's forehead. I did not want to get up to face the day -- with the reality of what Hardy and I had started, Richard's punishing sex the night before, and worst of all, the greedy pleasure I took from it. 

But I was not going to give in to analysing the two personalities of my husband and my perverted enjoyment of my bondage anymore when I had my baby cuddled against me. I gathered her close and I played with her blond curls. I traced the shape of her chubby cheeks and inhaled her baby scent. 

But still, I poked and prodded at my memory of last night, and my blood stirred in unbidden arousal. I clamped my thighs together. That was my Hardy last night, wasn't it? But it was not. It was Richard, wasn't it? But it was not. Was I being unfaithful then? 

Fool, I thought to myself. And I stood up to face a day that was heavy with possibilities, shame, guilt, and a furtive happiness. Was this the way adultery really felt? It had not felt like this the last time. 

I took my shower, and patted my body dry, remembering how he pressed me against the wall, and forced me to submit to his fingers. I dressed carefully, picking my undies with such care, remembering how he dragged my panties down before he took me as I was helplessly bent over the couch. I felt my wrists, my arms, trying to relive the taut feeling of my bondage. 

My body felt different to me. Everything felt different, even that secret place inside my deepest self that I had always kept safe from everyone, even from Hardy. That perfect place that was home to the perfect girl that was me. Somehow, I felt a bit broken by Richard's usage of me last night. But through that little crack, I felt that perfect person peer out of her shell, and feel . . . why.. she was feeling a little, liberated, maybe. 

I had been that girl, trying so hard to be perfect -- the perfect daughter, the perfect student, then the perfect wife. But no. . . not perfect after all. There was that one time, when, oh God . . . and now . . . No, not perfect at all. 

Mariella had not arrived yet. As I went through the preparations of making my breakfast and Amelia's, my mobile phone rang. Caller ID said 'Office', and I cautiously said, 'Hello?'

'Neen?' Amazing how accusation, hurt and worry could all be packed into my name. 

'Good morning, Hardy.' I said, all perfect poise and courtesy, myself. 

'Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well yesterday?'

'It was nothing. I was just hungry, that's all.'

'Right.' Uncertainty. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes, I am. Truly. I'll be at the office soon.'

'No. You don't have to be here until noon. The three musketeers will practice their presentations to you after lunch. You can gather all their notes then. Have a rest. And for God's sake, eat a good breakfast! And don't worry about lunch. There'll be food up here. So, will you be here at noon?'

I smiled at all the emotions I heard in his voice smashing over each other like waves. 

'Yes, Hardy.' I said. I could hear him start to speak again but I had had enough of the call, and so I gently hung up on Mr Richard Hardington Hunt. 

'Daddy phone Mummy?' 

Amelia climbed the kitchen bar stool with Turtle. Instead of answering, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her, tickling her and making farting noises in her neck. She laughed and squirmed in the chair. I started measuring flour, while she and Turtle entertained me. 

'Daddy tickle me too,' she informed me after a song and dance from the green toy. 'Tickle, tickle, tickle, he said. We had bwekky. I said, Mummy wake up now, Daddy? He said no, 'Melia, Mummy happy in dweamland. Can I go dweamland too, Mummy?' 

'Someday, you'll know that you go to dreamland too. And, are you talking about this morning, sweetheart?'

'Uhuh, dis mawning. We had bwekky, then we bwush our teethies, then I said, Daddy, I sleepy 'gain, can I sleep in Mummy bed. Daddy said, yes, 'Melia, Mummy happy when 'Melia sleep in Mummy bed. Daddy sing song, lalala. Then I sleepy, and he put me 'side Mummy. He said, shh, shh, 'Melia. Then he kiss 'Melia like dis.' She kissed Turtle on the forehead. 'Then Daddy kiss Mummy like dis.' She kissed Turtle on the lips.

I see. I smiled at her fully, because my heart felt suddenly close to bursting. 

'Mummy happy, Mummy?' My baby patted Turtles cheek.

'Yes, sweetheart.' I said. 'Pancake for 'Melia's second bwekky?' I crowed. And she clapped her hands and laughed.

I played with Amelia for about an hour in the pool Hardy had built for her the year before. I explored my strength, and decided that yesterday's weakness had passed. I've always had low blood pressure, and I find that going without food for even a few hours could make me dizzy. 

I was in a rush to get to work yesterday, knowing that Richard was returning from New York. So I missed breakfast, and all I had to eat was a thin egg sandwich at lunch time. Then he put me through all that shock last night. And that tremendous orgasm. No wonder I caved in. Today, if I was to survive any more of Richard's ridiculous antics, I would have to eat something at least every hour. 

Mariella arrived at about ten o'clock when I was getting ready for work. 

She entered my bedroom like a volcano about to explode. 

'Que? Que? What ees theez? I hear you no eat again?' She shook her finger at me as I carefully outlined my lips in a wine-coloured lip liner. 'Dios mio, hija! What are dey doing to you in that beezneez?'

'I'm okay, Mariella. Really, and I had a good breakfast this morning – eggs, sausages and pancake, just like you make it too. Stop worrying about me.'

'You no want me to worrry?' She said, her voice rising in her concern, her great chest heaving and her rs rolling. 'I don't beleev theez, Mz Nina? You no want me to worry? Mr Richard bring you home last night like you so dead? You so white in yorr face?'  

Amelia had come running just in time to hear the end of Mariella's tirade. She looked at me wide-eyed, then back at Mariella. Then back at me pointing at my face and scolded me in her baby voice.

'Yeah, Mummy, you so white in yo' face!' She pointed then to Mariella. 'And you so red in yo' face, 'Ella. What colo' my face, 'Ella? What colo' 'Melia face?' 

Mariella and I looked at each other. 

'Now look what you've started, Mariella.' I said. And we both burst out laughing. Amelia stared at us for a second, not understanding what was funny, and then laughed with us anyway.

I shared a cup of coffee with Mariella. She forgave me for fainting and for causing her to worry. And at 11.00, I kissed them both goodbye and drove to work. 

First up, when I got to Hunter, was my lunch meeting with Richard's three musketeers, as we called them – Sam, Eve, and Meredith. They were his war generals in the business, his right hand men – err, man and women. 

When I came to the office last Monday, as Hardy asked, or rather, ordered, I found that I was, indeed, expected. He had informed all staff that I was going to assist in next week's Investors' Conference. 

When I first started to make my frequent appearances at work after I married Hardy, I had been sure they would treat me with wariness, being once one of them but now risen in rank because I married the boss. On the contrary, they're acceptance of me had not changed, for which I was intensely thankful.

Today, when I arrived, Sam greeted me with enthusiastic praise for my writing of the overall summary, the very one Richard had not been very impressed with. Was his criticism of my draft summary a part of play-acting then?

Sam more than made up for Richard's rudeness, exclaiming over the fact that I had read all the figures, preliminary presentations, and white papers only 24 hours before I started the draft. He then proclaimed me the fourth musketeer, which I'm sure was the highest compliment he could give me.

The food came. Richard had outdone himself with the luncheon. He had a light lunch catered for everyone every Friday, but today, Thursday, there was lunch brought into the small conference room for the four of us.

We sat down around the corner eating table to ready servings of Greek salad, salmon poached in olive oil and olives and broccoli, and a lamb dish with a dish of yoghurt on the side. 

After a short spell of silence where we ate through three courses in record time, the conversation picked up when we started to eat dessert -- strawberries in cream and honey.

I looked around me while I enjoyed the flow of honey in my mouth. 

Sam Weissman was a 28 year old, handsome young man, and extreme intelligent. An economics major from Yale, he was a guru with numbers. He was born rich, but seemingly unspoilt by all the advantages with which he had been born. And he had that cocky, self assured, little boy charm that I found myself warming to again and again. 

Eva, well, Eva was a psychologist and a genius in predicting the responses of people to certain variables in the market. You could say she was a marketing psychologist. She was also a blond bombshell, one size smaller than me, and wore business clothes one size smaller than her perfect frame. The effect was certainly distracting to say the least. But I have never seen Richard take up the offer. Not that she was offering anything to Richard. She had eyes only for Sam.

Meredith was our geek, our IT engineer. She was responsible for designing much of the robotics involved in Hunter technology. She was a genius, hands down. She was also geek through and through – geek glasses, hundreds of apps in her mobile, and a ruthless gamer. I never saw her in corporate clothes, but she did say she would come to the conference in dress pants. She came to work in jeans and t-shirt. Now she had a t-shirt that simmered with a setting sun and the words HALO across the front. She told me once it was her favorite X-box game. She also told me I was a dead ringer for the girl hero in it, a girl called Cortana, some kind of artificial intelligence girlfriend of the Master Chief or some such person. I remember asking her, 'Who? What's a master chef doing in a video game?' And Meredith had looked at me with pity.

'That was great.' Sam sighed, as he stretched back to pat his stomach. 'And I think we have you to thank, Nina, for this corporate lunch that broke all records.'

'Me?' I asked, surprised.

Meredith looked at me. 'Oh yes, she doesn't know.' She spooned a strawberry into her mouth. 'Mmmm. Well, Bossman came in this morning looking like thunder about something. Then I heard him on the phone to your housekeeper. I'm thinking your housekeeper was giving him an earful, something about you fainting last night when you got home. He was giving as good as he was getting though. Funny that, Bossman fighting with your housekeeper. I'd love to meet that woman, one day, Nina. Anyway, he said something like, 'Well if you can't feed her there, I'll feed her here myself, or something like that. And that's the story of this lunch.' Everyone started chuckling. 

I felt my face flushing which Eva noted with interest. 'Umm, Nina, you're not, umm, you know?' She patted her own tummy. 

'You know, what?' Sam asked in ignorance. 

'Sam, don't be dim-witted. Pregnant, I mean,' Eva said, which made me flush some more. 

'No, I am not.' I said with emphasis. I stood up and walked to the conference table, turned the projector on, and my powerpoint presentation covered the opposite wall. I shuffled through papers to hide my sudden anxiety, and I called to the three over my shoulder.

'Team, our excessive lunch plus gossip ends right now. Move your heavy bums to this here table and get this meeting on the road. Eve, you start with a market projection and socio-economic implications. Meredith, you follow with all your engineering details. And you being the only darling male here, Sam, you get to finish with all the numbers to show how much money all the investors in the room will expect to earn from this new Hunter product.'

Hunter Innovations was developing advance fuel cell technology to power cars. Up until now, fuel cells have had two successful applications: for stationary installations and for small portable uses. 

Now, Hunter had successfully tried and tested a third fuel cell design that could run a car for 100 hours.  It was expensive to make, but in the long run, cheaper than gasoline. We were now presenting all the findings to investors who were interested in financing the next stage: manufacturing the first 5,000 cells for mass testing.

My job today, was to listen to all their reports and put them altogether into one cohesive presentation, including the 30-page introduction and summary which Sam had praised – and the very one Richard had used as a prop to turn me into his ... office slave. 

Everyone was brilliant. And in case Richard was not play-acting when he said I didn't fully understand the economics of energy, I applied myself to understand everything, every number, even the fine points of the engineering design. I caught on quickly.  

For two hours, I took copious notes, wrote comments on everyone's drafts, designed charts and tables to be inserted into powerpoint slides. 

I couldn't help but be impressed. If all went well, Hunter Innovations was going to be a leader in the race to produce cheap and clean energy for the world. It was exhilarating to be a part of it all. 

We stood up at two o'clock. The three musketeers looked drained. They had been working nearly all night long, actually for two whole weeks now. But now their job was done for now. Richard had given them the rest of the day off today and the whole day tomorrow, Friday, but they had to come back to work on the Sunday afternoon to prepare for the conference next week. 

Eve called out to me just as I entered my little office next to hers. 'Oh, I forgot, Nina. Richard asked me to tell you to go straight up to the Penthouse and finish up there. He'll join you at around six o'clock after his meeting with Tony.' Tony Carlingford was the scientist behind the new Hunter fuel cell. 'Oh, and he said he left a tray of sandwiches and fruit in the fridge for a snack.' 

She smirked. 'You sure you're not pregnant?' 

I shooed her away and she went laughing with glee.

I went straight up with a trolley laden with all the papers, computer disks and usb sticks I needed.

I took a deep breath before I stepped out of the lift. I would have to get into my role. I guess it's as simple as changing clothes. 

So I am now Nina, not Neen. I am a Consultant at Hunter Innovations, employed here, but the threat of being fired hanging over my head. I am a mistress. No, not even that. He said I am an office slave. Yes that, not a wife, not even a mistress, beloved or not. 

In contrast to my feeling of anticipation this morning, a dark wing of guilt now enveloped me, fanning me with self-disgust and resentment toward Hardy. How dare he? How dare he treat me, his wife, like this? Where was the honour he promised me, the gentleness he had shown me for the last five years? Was this how he really saw me? A body to be used?

I went straight to one of the desks in the corner, not bothering to look at anything else in the room, trying to block out the memories of last night. I entered into this agreement with Hardy expecting a light office romance. How naïve, I thought sourly. It might have been what Hardy would get into, something light and flirty, but this was not Hardy. This was Richard, a man I had never before encountered up close, but who was still very much my husband, and then again, who was not.

Again, I did not want to analyse it just yet. Maybe later, when my mind could separate all these marriage and sex issues from the tangle they were in now, as easy as I could analyse business concepts. 

I dismissed all thoughts of Richard and Hardy then, and worked non-stop, as was my habit. I had always derived comfort and stability from concentrating on work, and I happily got lost in the convoluted maze of statistics and reports.

When I finally finished at 5.30, I had powerpoint presentations for Richard, Sam, Eve and Meredith all very nearly completed. All their notes, all the points, all the figures they wanted to emphasize were there in impressive graphs. The slides were alive with the future of the new battery cell and the intelligence of Richard Hunt and his three musketeers. I knew it to be one of the best works I ever did. And I knew the investors would love it.

I turned on the TV to wait for Richard, but turned it off again. I walked around the huge office, and stopped in front of the painting of the woman on the ground.  I studied the painter's name: Wyeth. A Wyeth. I didn't know much about art, but I knew that name. A Wyeth was worth millions. Hardy's father, Dad William Hunt, was a lover of art, and went to great lengths to borrow famous paintings and have them in the Penthouse for a certain number of weeks. This must be one of them.

I also noted the changes in the room that I missed when I came in. Richard must have made the change just this morning. There was a fern plant hanging over the space beside the painting, over that spot where he had trapped me nearly naked and ravished me with his finger. 

I fell asleep on that couch where he had me writhing in delight 24 hours ago. When I awoke, half an hour later, he still wasn't there, and I fidgeted around the office. That's when my mind began working, and analysing our role-play. Hardy and Neen. Richard and Nina. Wife. Mother. Employee. Office mistress. Office slave. Office slave. Office slave...

He came up at about half past six. I was in front of the painting again, staring at it but seeing only the two of us, there pressed on the wall, him bent over me, and me, playing the slut.

I heard his footsteps coming up behind me, and I turned to face him, my eyes wet, nerves stretched to breaking point. 

He started to speak but I slapped him, my palm straight and true, turning his cheek instantly red. His head jerked back but when he righted himself to look at me,I lifted my hand to hit him again, but he caught my wrists and held them prisoner under my chin. 

'Do you want out then?' He said, his voice low and hoarse. 

'Yes, you bastard.' I hissed. 'You said you wanted a mistress. You never said anything about treating me like a whore!'

'Mistress. Whore. Slave.' He said, his eyes so dark and hard, roaming my face. 'What's the difference, Neen?'

'I am your wife, damn it!' I said, my voice hitching. I could not be brave in front of this stranger before me. I struggled to free my wrists. 

'Hardy's maybe. But not mine.' He said, cruelly, tightening his hold of my hands. 

'We had a deal, Nina. One week, remember?' He tipped my chin up, and pressed his lips on the tears on my cheek. I felt his hardness nudge me. His mouth travelled down my neck below my ear, where  nerves there zapped awareness all the way down to my pussy. My body bucked forward, answering the summoning of his.

'Hardy!' I scolded, my will power all but evaporating like my tears.

'Richard.' He admonished me. And he bent down and nipped my chin. I shivered. His mouth went down the side of my neck, sucking and biting gently. He abruptly released me and I lost my balance, clutching at his shoulders for support. I felt him unbutton my blouse, and he quickly slipped them down my arms. My bra went as well. Then my skirt. He slapped my hands away as I tried to stop him. Then my panties were dragged down as well.

He folded me in his arms tightly, a hand on my breast, claiming possession. 'You want him back? You want Hardy back?' He said, his voice rough, as though in some pain. 

'Yes.' I moaned, as he pushed my hair aside so he could suck at the skin under my ear. His fingers captured a nipple and squeezed, making me bend backwords, wordlessly offering more.




An Office Slave Ch. 04



' He won't make you feel like this. He's different.' His mouth found mine, and kissed me, insistent with the promise of a repeat of last night. I twisted away from the depraved temptation he was offering. He let me turn, only to trap me that way, my back against his clothed chest, his arms snaking their way around my body, and his mouth a desperate clutch on my bare shoulder. 

I closed my eyes. Richard... even his lips felt different from Hardy's. Oh God, that was wrong. I was starting to think of them as two different men. 

'I don't want you, Richard. You make me feel dirty.' My voice broke apart. 'I'm afraid, I'm not brave at all. I don't want this, Hardy. Let's stop this now.'

One hand had slid up to cup my breast, the other around my throat, under my chin. 

He groaned. 'I've had a taste of you... you can't...I can't...' And he fell silent, and still. We stayed that way for so long, his arms like steel bands around me, his warm breath on my ear. 'Nina.' He groaned. I felt I was moulded to his body forever. Then he relaxed, and sighed.

'Okay, so be it. Say it then, Nina. Say the truce words, and I'll disappear from your life. You'll get Hardy back. I promised you that.' He was still so still, I could feel his heart beating on my naked back. 

I had stopped resisting. How could I go on fighting him, when he had turned my face sidewise now, his lips on my face, caressing my temple with light feathered kisses. 

'Say them now, Nina. Say the words.' His voice was bleak, the voice of a lover waiting to be banished from my life.

I opened my mouth to damn him, to damn Richard. But I was suddenly bereft. If I said the words, Richard would go and might never return. I was suddenly afraid I would lose him. He said he had tasted me. Dear God, but I had a taste of him too, of a world where all my choices were taken away, except for one – to accept him and his demons. 

And the result? After one night, I wanted Richard's arms around me forever, banding me to him like Hardy never had. Without Richard, would Hardy exert the control over me that I had always secretly longed for? Without Richard, would I have to ask Hardy to become this mysterious stranger? Would Hardy learn to take me without asking, as I know Richard would? 

His lips had stopped their foray while he waited, his breathing loud in my ear. 

In my naivete, I had started something I could not undo. Whether it was for the worse or for the better, God only knew, but I could not turn him away now. I gently unclasped his hands and turned in his arms. I placed my hands on his head and pulled his head down, reaching for his lips as a decision was settled in my heart.

'No,' I whispered. 'I can't say them, Richard.'

He released a gust of breath, and grasped a handful of hair to expose my neck and sucked me there hard under my ear, earning him a bucking of my hips. He lifted me up like a child, pulling my legs to encircle his hips and he carried me toward the boardroom table. He set me down on one end, on the hard edge, with my legs on either side of him. 

His lips skimmed my forehead, and he said, his voice trembling a little. 'I want you now. I promise I won't hurt you. I promise. But I have to do this. I promise it won't hurt.'

As he was promising me that, ironically, he reached into his pockets and produced a scarf. Figures, the dear pervert. It was one of mine, a bright red one. Unexpected he put the scarf in my hands. I looked up at him in question. He was looking down at me in that piercing way of his, like he was watching for any hidden messages in my face. 

'Ask me,' he said. 'Ask me to bind you, Nina.'

'Oh.'

I was mistaken when I thought he would take without asking. He was asking me now. He was asking my permission to fuck me senseless tied up and helpless. I looked down at the scarf. It was a lacy one, so red against my olive skin. I twined it around my arm, and I admired the way the scarf complemented my wrist, enhanced the delicacy of my bones. I twined it also around my other arm, to see how it might look to him, my wrists tied together. I didn't expect the rush of lust it sparked in my breast, spreading down to my torso where a familiar flowering began. My eyes moistened again, this time at the heat rising to my face. 

I looked up at him. He had been studying me, reading my thoughts like I was a book. His hands stroked the insides of my thighs. I fidgeted.

'Why?' I whispered. 

He kept studying the details of my face, while I waited. It was an extraordinary feeling, being inspected so closely. He didn't answer me. 



'Why?' I asked, louder this time. Like the way Amelia would.



His lips twitched. He traced my eyebrow, and said, 'Why do you fascinate me? After all these years?'

I glared at him, and gripped the scarf, ready to hit him with it.

'I said, Why, Richard! Why this way?' I twisted my hips to try and push him away, but it caused him to hold me tighter, forcing my soft thighs to cradle his hardness. He pulled at my chin to look up at him.

'Why?' He asked. 'Why not? Why anything really? Why do you hold back from me? Why do you have secrets from me? Why? I want to see you, Nina, really see you.'

Well, I'll be... That certainly rendered me speechless. I was certain I would sound dim-witted if I said anything in the face of something so profound. And besides, his cock was pressing at me and I was positive my wetness was dampening the front of his trousers. My immediate goal then was not to understand him, but to get him into me as quickly as able.



I slipped my hands out of the coils of my scarf, and handed it to him. 

'What are you waiting for, then?' I said to him, pretending petulance to cover my breathless urgency. 'So, see me, Richard.' He gave a snort at that, then his mouth swooped down and claimed mine, sucking my lip. His lips plundered mine, while he positioned my arms behind me, expertly tying a knot with a few twists of the scarf around the x of my crossed wrists. 

My breasts were pushed up to graze his chest, and when he pulled away from my lips, it was to stare down at the former. 

I had to close my eyes at the intensely ravenous look on his face. One hand had skated up behind my neck to support my neck, while he slid the other over my breasts, kneading them with firm, possessive strokes. 

'These breasts are mine, Nina.' He said hoarsely, as he pinched my nipples into hard pebbles. 'I'd kill any man who would touch them.' He bent and nipped at one, making me arch back, wordlessly pleading for more of his forage. 'I see them looking. I know what they're thinking.'

He pushed me back to lie down on my bound arms on the table. With more silky cord he produced out of somewhere, he secured my ankles to the table legs. I was wide open, my choices gone. Was this what he meant by really seeing me?

I stared at the ceiling, my body humming with expectancy. My pulse pounded in my ears, in my chest, and between my thighs. I could hear him move around the room. I saw the lights dim, and music became louder, a woman in an opera. I heard him open the door of the fridge and then shut it again.

When he came back, he leaned over the side of the table and lifted my head. I saw he had removed his clothes. I peered at him in the dim light. If I was looking for Hardy, he was nowhere to be found in the man looking down at me with a gaze so hungry he almost looked like a wolf.

He lifted me up and placed a large throw pillow under my back. When he saw that I was comfortable, he turned my chin so I could see him. His cock was full and ready, his stomach abs clenched with control. 

'Now the fun begins, dear Nina.' He said in a low voice and he whipped a white handkerchief around my head and gagged me. 'This is not to hurt you or scare you. I just want to keep you quiet, that's all. I have a feeling you'll be quite noisy.' He caressed my neck and encircled it with a large hand. 'And besides, you look... like, like a vessel, for me to fill. You know what I mean?' 

He opened something like a jar and after an instant he was smearing something on my breasts. I smelled honey, which made me think of this afternoon's dessert. He massaged my nipples with it, squeezing them and making me squirm from the amazing sensation. I wanted to rub my thighs together, but it was impossible, my legs wide open in a v. 

'I've always, always, wanted to do this to you.' He murmured, and he suckled at my breast again. He pulled at my chest, so my head fell back, his great hands lifting my upper body to his hunger. Yes, he knew how to suckle. He was a vulture, bent over me, feeding on the honey on my skin, my flesh.

I understood why he silenced me, as my cries of delight escaped me again and again, muffled by my gag. His mouth, his lips and tongue created havoc, insanity and music in me. He pulled at my body with his hands, and pushed at me with his mouth. He knew where to suck, and to bite, to lave, and to blow. And when I could hardly bear it, he lifted his head, and he rubbed honey all over my thighs and around my pussy. And oh,... his tongue, his tongue went there. Hardy never went there. He sucked me, and did things I know not what. I felt his teeth, I felt pulling, and blowing. His tongue went deep, and I came violently on the table, my legs pulling at their bondage and my torso twisting in my climax. I groaned in my gag, Carmen's Habanera in my ears.

He didn't give me time to recover. He released my ankles from the cords and pulled me up. 'It's time for a shower.' He said, setting me on the floor. He removed my gag, he pulled my bound wrists and walked us to the bathroom. I was like jelly, my knees could not hold me. I had to lean weakly on the tiled wall while he relieved himself in the toilet. He gestured for me to urinate as well. And I did, avoiding his eyes. Hardy and I had never relieved ourselves in front of each other. 

Then I watched him turn the shower on inside the shower enclosure. He helped me into wide cubicle and stood me under the spray. The water washing down on me was warm and delicious. My hair flowed down my back and breasts like a silky veil, and he seemed to take pleasure in that. He washed me, even my hair. And the most beautiful feeling came over me as he massaged my body. He turned me this way and that, careful that no shampoo dripped into my face. My wrists were still tied behind me. He joined me under the spray, reaching behind me. He pulled at my elbows, his attention on the way my breasts flattened on his chest as his soapy hands slid all over my back and buttocks. 

Richard cleaned me everywhere, even between the lips of my nethers. I peered up at him through wet eye lashes. He was completely focused on what he was doing, not looking at me looking at him, but at my body which he was handling with such expertise. He finished running his hands down my sides, then fingered combed my hair back and told me to stand in the corner. 

Then he washed himself. This time he looked at me, while he lathered himself. 

'Stand straight,' he said. And I did, displaying my breasts to him. He looked up and down my body, focusing on my breasts while he lathered his cock. It had grown massive as he pumped his hand up and down it, washing it well. 

Then when all the lather was gone, he turned the shower off. He folded a towel in half and splayed it on the floor, and followed it with another one. He pushed me down to the towels so I knelt before him. He grasped my head so I could look up at him, and I knew what was next. 

'You've never asked me to do this before. I don't know how.' I said, breathless, a little defensively. Would I do it right? Would I choke? Would I embarrass myself? He did not give me time to worry much about it.

He tipped my face up and pinched my nose. The next thing I knew, his cock was in my mouth. 

I choked, and he pulled out. 

'Open your mouth wider, Nina. It'll be easier with practice.'

I made to stand, but he had gripped my hair and forced me to stay on my knees.

'Don't let me pinch your nose again, Nina.' 

I opened my mouth finally and I took him in, my tongue naturally sucking at his tip just so I would get it over with. And so there I was, learning how to suck cock. I was on my knees between his legs, the rough hair on his thighs rubbing on my breasts. My own trembling legs were unable to purchase my balance, and my bound arms were useless behind me. It was his hands that held me in my place, and his long, hard shaft in my mouth. His hands, each of them on each side of my head, gripped my hair to keep my head still as he bobbed in and out of my face. 

I allowed him to go deeper, getting into the rhythm. My throat spasmed, as I fought to breath properly. I felt his legs tremble. I had not expected the act to be so arousing for me. Rivulets of water from my hair slid down my back into the crack of my anus, stroking my sensitive flesh as they slithered down my thighs. As Richard gripped my hair and used my mouth and throat, so clearly in the throes of an ecstasy I was giving him, I began to wonder who was slave and who was free. 

He took care to be gentle, giving me instructions.

'Ah, uhmm. That's good. Nina, suck it now. Stronger. Ahh. I'm going deeper now. That's good, ah, that's good.'

I imagine I pleased him very well. It pleased me too. To be this vessel he called me. I was filled with his taste and scent. And I loved it all. I loved the feel of his hands, guiding my head up and down to give him different access angles. His cock filled my mouth and touched my throat, and I thrilled to sense the control he was himself exerting on his own desire. Like saving himself for the best. 

My own pussy tightened and another kind of wetness had pooled inside me. As I knelt on those wet towels, I was so wonderfully glad I had not called out for truce. 

He went in even deeper and he told me when to hold my breath, to breathe in and out, and I obeyed him. His groans echoed in the shower enclosure above me. And my wetness trailed down my thighs combining with the water still dripping down my back.

He was close to erupting, I felt his cock growing even longer and harder, and the grip on my hair tightened as to cause me pain. I made a distressed sound deep in my throat. He pulled out of my mouth gently, pulled me up and quickly dried us both.

He kissed me. 'You did well, Slave.' He murmured. 'I've never had a mouth like yours.' 

'Well, then, why have you never asked it of me?' I asked him belligerently, my voice a little hoarse what with it coming from a throat ravaged by cock.

'Ha,' he said softly. 'I've never had you for a slave before.'

He pushed me towards his bedroom, the executive one that was always ready for him. To my knowledge, Richard never used it. Hardy always came home to me, except when he had to travel interstate, of course. But then, when he didn't come home to me, where did he go? What warm body welcomed him? What mouth HAD he had?

All of a sudden, pictures of other women sucking him zipped through my mind making my stomach want to heave. 

Unceremoniously, I was pushed face down on the bed. He kneed my legs apart, lifted my hips and entered me in one deep shove. I screamed into the coverlet. He was so long, so hard, a shock to me. 

'Richard,' I gasped. 'Stop.'

He stopped immediately, groaning a little. He waited for me to accommodate him and at the same time, released my wrists from the wet scarf. I heard a wet slop on the floor beside the bed. While waiting for me to get used to his size and length, he massaged my arms and gave me back their use. He arranged my legs wide apart, and grasped my elbows to pull me towards him, burying himself deeper into me.



Then he slid gently out and in again a few inches at a time. He kissed and nipped my naked shoulders, all the while, rocking inside me gently. He stirred me, inside down there. They say it's a certain spot, a g-spot, but for me, it was my whole womb that he touched. And when he passed through my walls, little urgent whispers of delight unfurled through me. I moaned in pleasure. He rocked me slowly for a long time, his hands flat on the bed on either side of my head. I stared at one, as I swayed to the movement of his hips. I stared at the hairs at the back of his hand, and felt the desire swirl through me again. This was adultery, for sure, that I enjoyed this too much. This was not Hardy. And he as taunted me a while ago, he had said, I was not Richard's wife. Our role-play was that of a sordid office affair. And so this was adultery. 

A hand pressed down on my back, bearing me down on the bed. The gentle sliding had gone, replaced by earnest thrusts, my body bouncing to his determined fucking. His cock shoved into me, mercilessly sentitising my vaginal walls. I could not get away. He held me in a grip that ensured my legs were wide open coercing the pleasure to spiral uncontrolled. 

I had already orgasmed on the table, and sometimes Hardy would give me a second one weak one in the same night, but never like this. Not like this. I would burn from this one, I knew, all my reserves obliterated from its force. The heat would not release me. Sweat broke out all over me, as I struggled against an ecstasy so devastating my resistance to it shook me to my core.

'Richard!' I cried as he pounded into me. It was thrilling. My pussy sucked at him. 'Richard,' I moaned. I writhed under his weight, the surge of pleasure gathering like a storm. Abruptly, his weight upon me disappeared as he shifted position. I shrieked at the interruption, at the loss. But his hands gripped my hips and jerked me down to grind more of his cock into me. 'Richard!'

He was half kneeling between my knees, holding my hips flush to his, and bucked me repeatedly, my breasts grazing to and fro on the rough coverlet. I hid my face on the quilt, as he pounded my pussy, my buttocks shaking with his force of our collison. I could not face this, I did not know how to deal with this incredible rapture he forced from me. It was agonising. It was splendid. 



'I see you.' he panted, as he manhandled my hips and hammered into me. 'Beautiful.' He squeezed my buttock cheeks apart, forcing me to take more of him.

'You're so goddamn beautiful.' He ground out. 'Nina.'

In, out, in, out. Again, again. He tired of that, and switched back to the first position, a hand pressing again on my back, pressing my breasts flat. This time his hand fisted in my hair, pulling at my head to turned my face sideways.

'Don't hide from me, Nina,' he said, panting with his effort. I could not see him, but I felt his eyes boring into the side of my face, while he increased tempo and deepened his leverage. 

'Nina. Ah, fuck.' That word, a word Hardy never said to me, re-moistened my eyes. I tried to hide my face into the quilt. He would not allow it, his fist tight around my hair. My walls tightened around him, my world glittering around me. And on he went, impaling me to his bed, a slave to be fucked, to be used. 

Oh, the pleasure turned unbearable. I could not hold back, one more thrust, another, another. And a pain of delight exploded in my womb, and I let go, and flew. I screamed. I was right, my world ignited into flames. I could not even writhe to lessen the torture of my bliss, so tight was his hold on my body. He thrust a dozen more times while he took his pleasure of me. He ground his cock into me one last time, so deep. I came again with a cry, tears finally spilling as the waves of my orgasm overcame me completely.

I was aware of him groaning in his own ecstasy, and crashing down onto the bed beside me. I could not care who I was, who he was, as my lungs heaved for air, and the shock of the coming held me in its throes. He gathered me in his arms, his heart thudding against my arms. 

I lay there replete, not moving, not wanting him to know of my crying. So we lay spooned in silence. So this was what I was missing, I thought as I felt him stroke my back and arms. 




An Office Slave Ch. 04



'Nina.' He whispered. I was silent. If I talked, he would hear the passion I was trying to suppress. His hand squeezed my shoulders. 'Nina?' 

I could not bear for him to turn me to face him. So I reached up behind me and patted his head, soothing him. I felt him bury his face in my hair, and he relaxed, slowly falling asleep.

I drowsed too, and the next thing I knew I was alone, the coverlet around me covering my nakedness. When I got up, I saw a few hundred dollar bills on the bed. I stared at them stupidly, until I understood what they were. I counted them. The idiot had paid me one thousand dollars for the outstanding fuck. What a bastard. 

I stood up and dressed and walked toward the lift. Then after a thought, I turned back and fixed the bed. I picked up the wet scarf, picked more of our mess off the floor, put the pillow back on the sofa, and even wiped the few drops of honey that had dripped on the conference table. 

Then I drove home. Mariella was just putting Amelia to bed, so I was happy to take over from her, reading Three Billy Goats Gruff to Amelia until I fell asleep beside my baby. 

I woke up to my mobile phone ringing. I checked the caller I.D.

'Hardy? Where are you?'

Silence. 

'Did he hurt you?'

'Hardy?' I said, my voice starting to shake.

'Neen?' His voice was breaking, or was it the phone? 'Did he hurt you?'

'No.' I said, but I started to cry quietly. Again.

'I'm not coming home tonight.'

'Please, Hardy.' I sniffed. He must have heard that one. 'Please come home. I need you.'

Silence. 

'I have to sort it out, Neen.' Silence. 'I . . . I can't stop . . . thinking about her. I can't . . . I can't come home yet.' 

'Please, Hardy – ' Click.

There was nothing I could do. I lay down in Hardy's bed, crying for him, and thinking of Richard. Wanting them both.

--------------------------------

Watch out for Chapter 5. Coming Soon. 

I hope you're enjoying this story. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think. Thank you.



An Office Slave Ch. 05



[This is a story of self-discovery between a husband and wife who claim they love each other, but must test the limits of their love. We do not condone rape or violence in marriage or anywhere. This is simply a fantasy.]

*****

Friday was the last business day before the big conference. I threw myself to the final tasks of my job as Coordinator of all presentations. I required everyone who was to present a report to come to the 8th Floor conference room and rehearse in front of me using the slides they were to use. Even the eminent Professor John Adler was not exempt. And he came willingly and insisted on inserting a few battery jokes into his speech. 

What did the 3A battery say to the 2A battery? What happens if you put the batteries the wrong way into the rabbit? Those sorts of jokes. He had me laughing the whole time. 

'I'm just stirring you, Nina,' he laughed with me. 'Of course I wouldn't say that.'

I briefed the Three Musketeers - Sam, Eve, and Meredith - and coached them as they practiced their speeches, threw them questions that might be thrown at them by the investors, and finally assured them they were ready as they could be. 

Of Hardy I saw very little. Oh, he came into my temporary domain when I was reviewing some notes about an hour after I arrived. But he said not one word. He closed the door and stood there, watching me. I simply did not know what to say. I could not look up at him either, blinded as I was not by the year-to-year production output chart in front of me, but with images of Richard above me, behind me, all around me, his face and body held captive by the force of his passion. 

It felt like he sucked all the air out of the office just by being there at my door.

After what would have been three minutes of his silent watching and my silent ignoring, he left my office, and all I had were glimpses of him the rest of the day, as he went from meeting to meeting drawing out perfection from everyone. It seemed we both had words for everyone else except for each other.

If anybody would have described me that day, they would have said, Why, Neen was her usual self, so perfect and calm. Neen has always been perfect, hasn't she?

They wouldn't have known I was feeling as brittle as a dry leaf at the end of autumn, about to fracture into different parts. My encounters with Richard were breaking me apart, dredging up whole new measures of me I could not recognize. Were these bits of me real? Had they been inside of me all this time? Or were they new branches that sprouted in response to Richard's darkness?

And what about Victor? What did Victor make me? How would Hardy judge me when I reveal Victor to him? The thought had me perspiring in my white silk blouse.

I left at five o'clock, deciding I was no longer needed. Hardy had developed Hunter Innovations in the past few years into a well-oiled machine which efficiently ran itself. Of course, as long as Hardy was around. I said goodbye to everyone in my gracious way. I hugged some of them and told them the conference was going to be perfect because of each of them. 

I went into Hardy's Level 8 office and stopped short. He was in the middle of the room with Carly Stevenson, assistant of the Professor. 

They were standing side by side, making a stunning picture as they looked at some brochures together. Her upper arm, glowingly bare in a sleeveless pink shirt, grazed his blue striped tie. Hardy looked up as I walked in, and he pulled away from Carly with a small tight smile for me. 

'Neen,' he murmured. And to Carly, 'Thanks for showing me all these, Carly. Would you excuse us for a minute?'

'Of course, Mr Hunt.' And she came to me and said, 'It's lovely to see you at work, Nina. I look forward to seeing you at the conference.' I smiled at her, and murmured something I could not remember, and we bussed each other's cheek. 

I closed the door behind her, and turned to look at him. He was leaning at the edge of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. 

I had come to tell him I missed him and ask him to please come home. But the sight of Carly's bare arm against Hardy's chest had thrown me off balance. 

'I didn't know she was here.' I said stupidly. I had not seen her all day. 

'Like you, she was holed up making sure John's presentation was perfect.'

'Where?'

'Where what?' Hardy asked. 

'Where was she holed up in?' I asked. I had been to all the offices and cubicles throughout the day, and never saw her, unless -

'She was here, of course,' Hardy said. 'I didn't want to keep walking to her office and back here for references.'

Carly ruled the Professor's suite of offices on the 6th Floor. Hardy was right in putting Carly in his office but the thought, however logical, was difficult for me to take.

'You could have given her my empty office,' I pointed out. He looked surprised. 

'You're right. I never thought of it.' He said. 

My lips tightened while I tried to remember the reason why I had come. He came to me, his eyes narrowing. 

'Hey. Hey, hey, Neen. What's wrong?' His hand came up to touch my face, maybe to touch my lips even. But I turned away. 

'I'm tired, Hardy. I'm going home.' I said, already walking away, unable to cope with the sudden jealousy I felt. He said my name, but I left him unable to come after me, as Carly was waiting in the outside office. As I passed her, she smiled at me, but I imagined a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. 

A few yards away, I stopped at Sam's secretary's desk and pretended I needed to speak to her about something. I turned to look back at Hardy's office. Carly was no longer in the outer office, and Hardy's door was closed again.

When I was feeding Amelia an hour later at home, I made the decision. I called my mother and blatantly lied. 

'Mom, would you mind very much taking Amelia for the night? Hardy needs me to finish some things up at the office.'

'Of course not, dear. You know we always have Amelia's bed ready for her anytime.' 

And the die was cut.

It was nine o'clock when I arrived at Hunter. There were no one cars left in the underground parking except for Hardy's and Carly's. With unsteady legs, I went up the elevator to the 8th Floor and walked directly to Hardy's office; no one was there. Where were they?

I went to the next place they would possibly be, the conference room, where I supervised all final speech rehearsals all day. When I approached it, I heard their voices, Carly laughing, and Hardy's low baritone. They were clearly flirting, and Hardy - Hardy was enjoying it all. 

I stood there listening to them, burning with embarrassment to be hiding in the shadows, spying on my husband. Where was my self-respect? My restraint?

I turned around and ran to the elevators, but instead of going down, I took the one straight up to the Penthouse. From there, I used the phone and dialed the number of the conference room.

'Hardy?'

He was instantly alert, cautious.

'Neen? Is everything alright at home?' 

'Send her home, Hardy.' I said.

'What?'

'I said, send Carly home, it's late.'

'Where are you?' He had lowered his voice. I could picture him stiffening, preparing to threaten someone. Me.

'I'm in the Penthouse.' I said, mortified to hear a quaver in voice. 'I - .'

He hung up on me. After wondering what to do next, I went to the kitchen and found what I was looking for. Some left-over red wine chilled in the fridge. I poured myself a big glass. I don't drink as a rule, because I don't like the taste of any alcoholic beverage, and because when I do drink it, I make a fool of myself. But I do become brave and rude, and so I braved the taste, grimacing as I gulped down around 700 mls of it as if it was my favorite vitamin water. 

I walked out of the hallowed walls of the Penthouse and i sat on a comfortable chair in a corner, some distance away from the elevator doors where I knew no cameras watched.

Fifteen minutes after he hung up on me, I had reached true bravado and well on my way to spitting rude. He walked out of the elevator and saw me.

'What's going on, Neen?'

'Did you fuck her?' Silence. His face turned coldly furious. I don't remember ever shocking my husband into a fury. Usually he thinks I'm funny. 

'No, I didn't, Neen,' he retorted. 'But I was going to, is that what you want to hear?'

It was my turn to be furious. I jumped to my feet, a mistake, as I swayed and fell against him as I tried to I hit him - right on the spot where Carly's naked arm had rested against.

'I most certainly do not. So if I hadn't come, you would be fucking her now, wouldn't you!' I hit him again. I imagined punching him with some force, but in reality, my punches must have been like friendly pats as he hardly budged.

He observed me with narrowed eyes. I stared back, trying not to be afraid of that look. It was the Richard look, just before he did evil things to me. 

'Are you drunk, Neen?'

'I most certainly am not.' I said indignant, proud to discover I totally did not fear him. Three points for the Red. 'I won, didn't I? I sent her away, and I have you tonight.'

'Well, you most certainly have,' he said, mocking me.

'Were you going to bring her here, Hardy?' I said, suddenly feeling unsure and hurt.

'What if - what if I was?' He squinted at me in the dark corridor, watching my face, my reaction.

I gasped, wounded, not recognising a bait. 'I knew it! You weren't coming home again, and you were going to bring her up here! How could you, Hardy?' 

I vaguely recognized my voice slurring, doling out an ugly, whiney nag, something totally out of my character, but I could not stop it. I was close to the point of no return. I knew I would regret every word I said and had yet to say tonight, every act that I would do, but I could not stop myself. I was on the train to willful self-destruction. 

'Wait. So you sent Carly away, and came up here to spend the night, Neen?' He asked, assessing the situation. 'So where's Amelia?'

'At Mom's.'

He stared down at me, taken aback. I could almost see his mind grinding away, and recognised the point when a decision was made. 

He went silent and thoughtful, suddenly expressionless, just like Richard, when he ravished me at the wall the first night. 

'So. Since when did slaves decide what their master should do or not do?' He said quietly, as he tightened his hold on my wrists, and crowded me against the corner.

'But Hardy, you didn't come home last night, and Carly, you and she -'

'Have you forgotten who you are, Neen? Or where you are?' He murmured as he bent and nuzzled my ear. His aftershave surrounded me. I inhaled him and I was lost. 

'No, Mr Hunt, I haven't forgotten.' I whispered, yearning for his body hard against me.

'Good,' he said against my hair. His mouth grazed my forehead, sending all the wrong messages down to my thighs, urging my hips to open, to press myself against his body. No, no, no.

'A slave has no right to choose, didn't you know that, slave?' he whispered almost tenderly. 'Perhaps we need another lesson, my dear.'

I whimpered my desire for him. I was shameless. I tried to put my arms around him, and he allowed it. 

'Teach me, Mr Hunt,' I begged him. 'I'll do anything.'

'Who are you?' He stroked my hair.

'I'm Nina,' I said, my heart hammering. 'Your slave.'

His smile turned hard, mocking. 'No, you're not.'

'I'm not?' I stammered. 'I don't understand.'

'I wanted Carly tonight, slave,' he whispered. 'But now that I can't have her, you'll have to take her place.' I sensed some kind of careful stress on the words, as if he was testing their soundness. But I ignored it. I had placed myself in a position of weakness, and all logical thought disappeared. I neatly fell into the trap.

'Hardy?' I gasped. He had turned the world upside down for me again. I wasn't sure what I was to do next. I struggled to free myself from his embrace.

'You assume a lot, slave.' He murmured in that hateful, expressionless Mr Hunt voice. He grasped my jaw and positioned my face to stare down at me. 

'A slave doesn't choose to be anything. You're an object, Nina. And tonight, since I can't have a real woman like Carly, I'll have to be content with fucking you, slave.'

That wounded me. Bastard! Bastard! I stared at him, wordless, my eyes blurring. But past the wine, some logic poked at me - this is his stage, his game. I am his - Thing.

His head swooped down, blocking what little light there was in the hallway. He licked my lips, and tasted the wine, deepened the kiss and crushed me to him, as if he was ready to take me then and there.

'Do you understand that, slave? When we go through those doors, you do anything I want, remember?' 

I nodded, a lick of fear hissing through me. 

'And don't look at me like that. I won't hurt you, remember that too,' he said in Hardy's voice, as he lightly slapped my hip. 

Then he became all Richard Hunt, my master. He grasped my upper arm and pulled me through the doors, I had to run beside him, my heels clicking on the tiles - through the living area, past the study, the kitchen and pushed me into the bedroom. He locked and bolted the doors, handled the remote to set the alarms at the elevators and main door. Then he stood me in front of a chair.

'Strip.' He said, sitting on the chair to watch. 'You have not stripped for me yet. I've had to do it every time.'

I stood frozen. 'I don't know how, Hardy.' 

'The name is Mr Hunt.' He said. 'All slaves know what to call their masters and how to strip off their clothes. Carly knows how, I should tell her to give you lessons.' He smirked at the look on my face. 'Ah, I know. Music!' And reached for a remote, clicked on a button, scrolled down a selection, and a seductive, swaying tempo filled the room. 

By now, the wine had fully accomplished its duty. I looked at this man in front of me. A stranger, but familiar. Loved and hated, desired and feared. Right now, desire was overriding any fear, and the wine assured me I would have no greater pleasure than to be a sexual object for Mr Hunt's desire. 

So I gave myself to the wine in my blood, the music, and my desire to please Richard. I smiled at him uncertainly, then more assuredly, willed some sparkle into my eyes, and I began to sway, caressing my breasts and thighs. 

He looked startled, and I was surprised at that. Didn't he expect it - my sensuousness? I pictured Carly and that sexy way she tossed her hair, and I did the same. 

I slowly, slowly, unbuttoned my blouse and let it fall open. I closed my eyes and I caressed myself all over, my hands skimming my breasts, releasing them from my bra, and allowing them to sit up on top of the cups. 

'Is this the way you like it, Mr Hunt?' I murmured, my voice mellow and seductive.

As I swayed and turned, careful to retain my precious balance, I watched him watching me. To the beat of the mournful bass, I spread my legs slightly and slid my hands over my hips, then my buttocks, and even between my thighs. 

I half closed my eyes and stared through drooping eyelids at my master. I was surprised to see an arrested look on his face. No, still more like shock. And again I was surprised. Didn't he expect Carly to do this? What would you do, Carly?

But I was Carly, and I swayed closer to my master. I dipped low so he could see my cleavage. I pushed my breasts up, to show him their plumpness. He touched them but he frowned at me with that cold look that I knew so well now.

I pressed closer, and he firmly pulled me to him trapping me between his thighs. He nuzzled my breasts and took a nipple in his mouth. 

'Tease,' he said. He brought his knees together trapping me. He took hold of my wrists and held them behind my back. He molded my body against his and sucked my nipple. I moaned long and hard. 

He kept my arms behind me with one hand and with the other, massaged my breasts and abdomen. He licked my navel and did to it what I wanted him to do to me with his cock. 

He turned me around and I felt my arms being bound again. This time, he bound my elbows together which pushed my chest grotesquely forward. 

He turned me to face him again. 

'You deserve to be punished, did you know that, slave? I wanted another mouse tonight, but you drove her away. What makes you think I would prefer you, slave?' 

I shook my head. I had no words to say to fight him at this. 

'What punishment is fitting for you, I wonder?'

A hand went under my skirt, and found me dripping wet. 

While he held me upright and he chewed on my nipples and stroked my wetness. He slowly massaged my clit, it was unbearably beautiful.

'Oh, Mr Hunt,' I moaned. 

'What makes you think I'm doing this to give you enjoyment, slave? I might be wishing you were the other one. The one with the blond hair, hmm?'

He pulled at me until I was kneeling astride him, my breasts in his face. I was dependent on his hold of me. I would have fallen if he lost control. He bit my breasts lightly and suckled them like a child. The whole time his fingers were up my pussy, drenched in my juices. 

He started to jiggle his fingers, shaking my flesh. I moaned again. 'Mr Hunt.' I was so near to my climax. 

He released me all of a sudden, unknotted the band around my elbows and pushed me off him. 

'You are not allowed to come, slave. That was your punishment. Go, complete your strip.' 

I moved away, almost stumbling at the hardness of his gaze. But I looked down and I saw the tent of his trousers and I inwardly chuckled. Five points for this slave, I say.

Sometime ago, I watched a documentary about houri girls, those sex-slaves in Arabian harems. I remember I secretly envied their world in a way, their loss of choices. But I also remember their sadness, their tragic lives.

But I had admired their dancing and so I danced like the houri I was in my heart. I whipped my blouse away, but grabbed the silky scarf, the one he tied me with. I draped it over my breasts. I looked down and marvelled how erotic they looked half covered. 

I continued to sway and dance for the music was becoming a part of me now, the lonely notes of the flute finding a home in my limbs. I lifted my flowing skirt up, showing my master a glimpse of my thighs. He was sitting up in full attention now, and so was his erection. 

I tippy-toed up to him, around him, behind him. Still swaying, I stroked his head, weaving my fingers through his hair. I caressed his neck and began kissing him there, bending myself to reach over to caress his tenting. He let his head fall back and shuddered. 

I knew then I was free to be whoever I wanted to be. A houri girl, sexy careless Carly, Nina the office slave, or Neen, beloved wife. 

I swayed to stand again before him, and threw away the scarf. I bent and shimmied, and then I was free of my underwear, both top and bottom. I threw them behind me and I fell on my knees, between his lets.

'Master Richard,' the wine in me whispered. I unzipped him slowly, and rolled down the elastic of his shorts, I freed his straining cock, and licked. 

He groaned. He pulled at my head gently, and pulled me off his cock. I looked at him questioningly. 

'Who are you?' He asked hoarsely.

'Carly,' I whispered in a watery voice. 'Didn't you want me, Mr Hunt?' He smiled crookedly. 

'Carry on,' he said. 'Carly, carry on.'

I positioned myself more surely before him, between his legs. I drew my hands over his thighs and legs. I gently unbuttoned his business shirt and stroked his nipples. 

And then I paid attention to the prize I came after tonight. I licked the crown and played with him. I licked him up and down his length and kissed him everywhere there. Then I sucked him just like he taught me last night. Up and down, I made love to my master that way. 

'I love your taste, Mr Hunt.' I breathed. I blew on him, and he shivered. I kept whispering my adoration for his cock. 




An Office Slave Ch. 05



'Oh goodness, Mr Hunt, how big you are.' I enclosed my mouth around him and sucked. I gently lifted off him. 'I love sucking you, Mr Hunt.' I lovingly caressed and squeezed him. I imagined him filling me. 'I want you to fuck me, please, Mr Hunt.' And on and on I went, spouting alcohol-inspired drivel, egged on by the seductive music, the headiness of his scent, and my own libido.

I filled my mouth with him, my throat, my right had squeezing him at the same time. My hands were free this time, and because the wine had released my juices, my free hand went down between my tight thighs to stroke myself. 

I moaned, my throat causing sensations around his sensitive cock, and he twitched. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with hooded eyes, almost angry. He finally moved. His hands reached out and grasped both sides of my head. He stilled my gentle head bobbing, and moved his hips. I had to hold on to his legs for balance. 

He had to be in control, this man. And so he fucked my mouth this way. 

He watched me, his eyes fierce, his mouth a hard line. 

'You want it, Carly? Take it then.' He growled low, tightening his hold on my head. 

'Your lips,' he groaned, as he demanded more of my throat. 'Damnit, Carly. That's it.'

I nearly choked; I was new at this, but the wine whispered its power and so I gamely continued, exerting discipline on my breathing, my lips, and throat. 

It was a contest of wills. Who was fucking who? If my mouth wasn't so employed, I would have laughed insanely. 

Just when I felt him about to die the little death, he drew back. He groaned again, and surged up, catching me before I would have fallen to the floor. He held me up like a rag doll, and carried me to bed, dumping me on the covers. He pulled me up slightly to put a pillow under by back, baring my breast to him like an offering, just like last night.

But I was finished. I lay with my arms outstretched, half naked, breasts obscenely pointing to the sky, my legs slightly apart. I stared at the ceiling, where hundreds of darkened, tiny lights winked down at me like stars. The wine was blending with the music, and the room was turning pleasantly around me. But my desire was gone.

The bed dipped, I felt my master's weight on me, his breath on my neck. He pulled both my arms up above my head and held them there. He stared at my pushed up chest.

'Carly,' he said hoarsely. 'Carly.' He fell on me, ravaged my mouth until I could not breathe. He let go of my wrists but I had not the strength to move them down, and so I let him do what he willed. 

He lapped at my breasts one by one and lifted them higher for his sucking. He lifted my skirt and plunged his finger into me. He felt my heated wetness, then he was gone. But he was back and I felt the smooth heat of his skin. He had removed his clothes.

He dragged my skirt from my waist and replaced it with his hardness. His lips sucked me, where I was soft, and curved, around my bones, everywhere. 

'I'm sorry, master,' I said. 'I can't seem to get my mojo back, as I am drunk as a lord.' I giggled. 'Ooops, no, you're the lord and master. I am Carly.' He paused at that grand statement. I sighed, and went back to sucking the inside of my thighs. 

Then I had to move my arms to grasp the pillow behind me, as his tongue reached my pussy core. My master eased my legs over his shoulders, and grasped my hips and lifted. And a heated tongue sucked me there. It went deep and it moved, it sucked me and bit.

'Carly,' he said, as he lifted his head. But I could not regain my lost ardour. I could not get it back. I kept my eyes closed, concentrating on what he was doing to me. Who was Carly? He stroked my legs, and kissed my calves. He stroked up my hips and again into my pussy, now kneeling between my knees and fucking me with his fingers as a hand squeezed a breast.

Then he straightened over me and positioned his elbows to the sides of my head. I opened my eyes and shut them again, as the wine showed me only his shadow, the lights above and behind him giving him an eerie halo. He was forever blocking out the light.

'Carly,' he murmured again. He was an angel, a demon calling me a name that wasn't mine. Who was Carly?

'Who is Carly?' I murmured, as he kneed my thighs apart. 

'You're Carly.' He said. 'And you're so beautiful.' 

'Do you love me, Mr Hunt?' I whispered to my angel-demon. 

'Yes,' he grunted as he shoved himself into me gently pushing me up the pillow with the sudden movement. He rested his weight on my thighs, stretching them open. 

He slipped his arms under the pillow under me and cradled me, grasped my shoulders and pushed himself in further, an instrument requiring appeasement. His size was a measure of his demand, stretching me and invading me with blunt force. I had often wondered how something of that size could fit in me. Why didn't it hurt? He worked on me, seizing my wetness, exacting his fulfillment. 

My breasts grazed his chest, the hairs stroking my skin as he invaded my body.

I felt him inside me, seeking me, rocking me to and fro. He was breathing hard, and the whole time I stared up at the stars. 

'Why do you let me do this to you?' He said as he jerked my body with gently violence. I realized then he was very angry.

'But you want me,' I whispered as I tried to kiss him. He refused my kiss, fisting a handful of hair to pull my head back, baring my throat to him.

'Because I need you, Mr Hunt.' I murmured to the stars.

He cock surged into me, securing me in place, as if he felt he was losing me. 'Carly. Fuck.' He kissed my face, and mouth. His tongue was in my mouth. Seeking again, for what?

'I need you,' he panted.

There were bees in my head, and a piston between my legs. My eyes closed against the rocking storm, the end of my world.

'Don't you dare faint on me, Nina!' he growled as he neared his passion.

'Carly,' I whispered, peeping up at his fierce face. 

'Carly,' he growled, as he fucked me, his eyes flint on my face. 

I had to close my eyes against the anger in his. The wine made it easy to drift away, while I was pitched like a boat in a storm. I was wet with his friction, although I had lost my desire, as I lost my name. He tightened the fist in my hair, and ground his hips into me. Again. Again. So what else was there to this? The pleasant haze was enveloping, and the rocking was okay, if you could describe a battering ram as pleasant.

'Look at me! I want to see you,' he ordered me, his rough voice from far away. 'Yes,' I whispered. And so I stared at him. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek and hit mine. 

'Why do I feel nothing?' I murmured again, my voice wobbling to his movements. His rhythm escalated, jiggled my breasts on the pillow, and the bed began to creak.

'Be quiet, for God's sake!' he growled. He clutched my shoulders painfully as he pushed in one final time. 'Oh Fuck, Carly.' he said again, and he exploded in me in strong furious spurts. He groaned long and deep. 'Damn you, Nina.' He sank on top of me, still in the throes of an ecstatic pain, trying hard not to hurt me with the violence of his release. He kissed me desperately as his climax went on and on. His mouth slid to my throat where it lay, clutched to my tender skin. 

When the storm was over, he rolled to the side, pulling me on top of him, his hardness still buried deep in me.

'Who am I?' I asked, the wine giving me back my impudence. I pounded my fist on his chest, not caring he was out of breath, and unrecovered.

He cursed, and grabbed my fist with one hand, and flung his other arm over his eyes. 

'I don't know,' he said. 'I flippin' don't know!' He unexpectedly laughed, still breathing deeply. 'All I know is that we have four more days to find out.'

I tried to get up, but he trapped me to the length of his body with his legs and his embrace.

'Stay,' he said, drowsy. 'Whoever you are, Nina, you're still. my. slave.' He chuckled weakly. I felt him soften in me and slip out. And he fell asleep like that. 

He had not pleasured me. And he had called me Carly. Many times. The wine finally took me away, and I slept hearing that name on his lips.