The other parts of this story can be found here.
“Good morning, Vivian.” I shut her office door silently behind me and tried not to be nervous. From the rapid beating of my heart, I think I failed.
She didn’t even look up from her screen. “Good morning, Travis.”
The silence between us grew, and I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she broke her gaze away from her computer. As always, her look was cool, calculating. It was almost like she could read my thoughts.
Maybe she could.
She brushed a lock of perfectly black hair behind her ear. “You look nervous, Travis. Do you have something you need to tell me?” Her expression was cold, and she leaned back in her chair.
I watched her cross her legs, as she let one shiny high heel dangle off the front of her foot. I ground my jaw, trying not to moan. Fuck, I was better than this.
Or was I? I thought of all the hours we had spent together.
Okay, no. I wasn’t better than this.
She knew it, and I knew it. I watched the curious smile crawl up her cheeks, as she watched my reaction.
Oh yeah, she knew it.
I fidgeted, and I hated myself for it. I hated myself for the power she had over me, and for the things I allowed her to do. But fuck, it felt so good. How could something this bad feel this good?
She licked her lips. “Oh, there’s something, isn’t there? Come on, boy. Tell Mommy how you’ve been naughty this weekend.”
I wanted to fall to my knees in front of her.
I wanted to worship those perfect long legs, those delicate little toes inside of her shiny pumps. The feel of her nylons under my fingers was exquisite, I knew. So soft, and I could almost trace up to that treasure between her legs…
“Travis!” Her sharp admonishment brought me down from my mental revelry. “Answer my question,” she hissed. “Now.”
“I’m sorry, Vivian,” I started, not knowing how I was going to finish.
She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them, giving me the barest glimpse of the lacy red panties she was wearing today. “Go on. Or do you think this little confession would be better on your knees?”
I felt the heat crawl up my chest, into my shoulders. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. I bit my lip, not believing what I allowed this woman to do to me. “Yes, please, Mistress.”
Her bright blue eyes sparkled. “Mmm, this ought to be good. Go ahead, then.”
I sunk down to my knees. It seemed so right, to worship this goddess in front of me. I could smell the leather of her shoes, and the faintest whiff of her pussy. I wanted so much to see it, touch it, show her how much I desired her — but I knew after she heard my transgression from this past weekend, that wasn’t going to be part of the plan. Again, I felt the heat of humiliation crawl from my shoulders to my neck. “I fucked my wife,” I said.
Her eyebrows shot up. “You what?”
My cheeks tingled. “I… had sex with my wife.”
She blinked, and frowned. “Travis, we’ve talked about this, haven’t we?” She leaned forward and cupped my chin in her hand. “Who does this cock belong to?”
“You, Mistress.”
“That’s right, but you seem to have forgotten that lesson.”
I started to tremble, I couldn’t help it. The problem was, I remembered that lesson. I remembered it all too well.
“I’m sorry, Vivian. She… she didn’t give me a choice. Martina was so worked up, I don’t know why. She just climbed on top of me… I didn’t know what to do. I let her do what she wanted. I’m sorry, Mistress, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t tell her no.” I was rambling, I knew, but I couldn’t help myself.
Vivian laughed, that sound like tiny bells of the apocalypse. “You let her do what she wanted? You really do like to let a woman take charge of you, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, looking at the ground. My cheeks burned.
“I wonder what’s gotten into your pretty little wife,” she mused. “But no matter, I suppose. Be a good boy now and go lock the door.”
“Please, Mistress. I’m so sorry. I just… couldn’t say no. She’s my wife,” I begged.
Vivian’s expression hardened. “I don’t give a fuck who she is. Now get your ass up and lock the door, before I decide that you need more punishment.”
The sound of the bolt turning in the lock sent me into a cold sweat.
“Get undressed,” she said.
As I unbuttoned my dress shirt, I tried to decide if arguing my point was a good idea or a bad idea. By the time I took off my pants, socks, and underwear, I had decided that it was a bad idea. I stood in front of her, naked, as she unfolded herself from her desk chair.
She dragged her crimson nails over my chest, as I tried to control my breathing.
It did something to my brain, to stand in front of her totally nude, while she was still fully dressed. I shivered, but not from cold.
Her fingers traced down my chest, as her lips brushed against mine. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating, and the feel of her soft lips nearly made my knees buckle. As her hand wrapped around my cock, I bit my lip to keep myself from moaning out loud.
“Who does this cock belong to?” she asked, sweetly, in the way a viper might ask a suspicious mouse.
“Y-y-you, Mistress. It belongs to you.”
She felt a little bit lower, and cupped my balls.
I tried not to cry.
“And these? Who do these belong to?”
“Please, Mistress. I’m so sorry. Please, I beg you.”
She squeezed. “Who do they belong to, boy?”
I clenched my eyes shut, as the burning sensation crawled through my most sensitive body parts. “You, Mistress. Please… they belong to you. Please, I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
Her grip tightened, and my lungs refused to inflate. I felt my eyes bulge, and all I could see was her serene gaze looking back at me.
God, she was so beautiful.
She twisted, and a wave of nausea washed through me. “Apparently you tend to forget, though, don’t you? When faced with a willing, wet pussy, you forget who you belong to, don’t you?”
“No, God, fuck… no, please. Fuck, please… No, I don’t forget.” Even to me, my voice sounded high and pitiful.
“But you’ll jump at the chance to get this thing sticky, won’t you?” She squeezed even harder.
Where she developed this hand strength, I could never guess.
Tears burned my eyes and bile burned my throat. “She’s… my wife…”
Vivian leaned in close to my ear, and I could feel her hot breath. “I’ve told you, I don’t care. I don’t care about your marriage. I don’t care about sweet little Martina. You belong to me, and I will make you understand that.”
She let go, and sharp, icy tingles raced down my body.
“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, fighting to stay standing.
“Good boy,” she said. “Now, spread your legs, hands behind your head. Try not to scream, the whole office will hear you.”
Photo by Lane Jackman on Unsplash