"Are you going to be an obedient slave? Or am I going to need to punish you first?" My voice, whispered directly into her ear seems to spark one last bit of defiance.
"I am your boss, Mr. Snow. I will not be—" I cut her off by pressing hard against her slit, and painfully tweaking her left nipple again.
"Looks like you will need some training," I tell her, as she gasps in both pleasure and pain. I walk us over to the massive conference table, and bend her over it.
"What do you think you're—"
Whack!
She howls as I spank her, but I know there is still a bit of fight in her, as she resists me pulling her wet panties off.
Whack!
Her panties are now on the floor, and I can see a red hand print on her left buttocks. Some inner part of me feels bad for this woman, but then I remember all the times she's chewed me out, or given me impossible deadlines, and slap her other cheek.
Whack!
I can now smell the unmistakable musk of a woman in heat, and ask, "Are you going to be my obedient slave now?"
She whimpers as she nods, but that's not good enough.
Whack!
"Say it, so that there can be no misunderstanding, Sheila Lance." There is an odd sensation in the air as I use her name, and it actually feels like it settles into my boss.
"Yes! I will be your slave," she cries out, and I'm thankful that she chose a conference room far from any other offices.
"What else?" I ask, and lift my hand. I have no further intention of spanking her, unless she pushes me to it, but a little motivation won't hurt.
"I'll be your obedient little cum slut," she says hurriedly. "I'll do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just. . . Just please, master, command your slave. What can your slave do to please her master?"
If I hadn't already been rock hard, hearing those words would have gotten me there. I bring my hand down, and she flinches, but I don't strike this time. Instead, I gently rub her red rear. I do this for a couple of seconds, but a weakness in my knees informs me that my energy levels are getting low. It probably doesn't help that I got no sleep last night, either.
Dropping down behind her, I say, "My slave deserves a reward for being obedient." Licking her from slit to asshole, I make her moan in further anticipation. Reaching between her legs, I place my right thumb at the nub of her clitoris, and shove my tongue as far into her as I can.
She cums instantly and I feel new strength flood into me. I continue to apply pressure to her clit, while simultaneously throwing up a mental wall, blocking further energy from leaving her. I don't need too much from her right now. Perhaps if I just sip a little off each orgasm, I won't really hurt her.
She continues to writhe on the table, moaning loudly, and I realize I'm still pressing hard on her sensitive point. Standing up, I back away from her, and sit down on the largest chair in the room. She quickly turns and looks at me, wondering what I have in mind next. Is that hope in her eyes?
"I want my slave to please herself, while I watch," I tell her with a smile. "Please me with a good show, and I'll reward my slave." I emphasize my words with a grab of my crotch.
Without any hesitation, she jumps onto the edge of the table, and displays her wet pussy to me. She is completely clean-shaven, and I wonder if it's just coincidence, or if she'd planned on being with someone else tonight?
Regardless, she's here now, and smiling at me, while she spreads her lips with two fingers, and uses another to rub up and down along her clit.
My cock is straining at my pants, and I pull it out, lightly stroking it. As soon as it pops free, Sheila licks her lips, giving it a hungry stare. She jumps off the table and approaches me, but I stop her.
"Uh-uh. I told you to give me a show, then I'll reward you." She pouts for only the merest moment, before turning around, bending over, and slipping two fingers into her wet snatch. Sucking her social finger into her mouth, she lubes it up, before reaching behind her, and slipping it into her anus. "That's right, slave. Show me how slutty you can be. Get yourself off, and I'll let you lick my cock."
She smiles at me between her slender ankles, and starts to go wild on her fingers. Her ample breasts are bouncing in rhythm to her left hand diving in and out of her coochy, while her right finger teases her puckered hole. She continues this until her knees buckle, and she collapses on the floor, quivering and moaning in orgasmic delight.
Once again I feel energy leech away from her, as it flows into me, but I block it after only a little bit, and just enjoy the show.
"It's time for your reward," I tell her, standing up, and walking towards her. She's immediately on her hands and knees, practically begging for my cock.
"Thank you master, for rewarding your slave!" she moans as her hands grip my hips, and pulls me to her.
I tap the head against her forehead, and she impales her mouth along my rod. Her tongue ravishes the underside of my penis, while she strives to get as much of me down her throat as possible. As had happened with Becky last night, somehow she manages to get all of me into her throat. I'm so turned on by everything, that I can already feel my culmination coming, and I grab the back of her head, holding her down on me, as I fire off powerful gobs of my goo directly into her stomach.
Power once again streams into me, and I realize she must be coming again, too, but I don't have enough spare thought to block any of it, as my own bliss overwhelms me. I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point I come back to the land of reality, and find I'm sitting back in the comfortable chair, with my newly acquired slave still sucking on my now limp prick.
"That was very good, slave," I tell her, petting the back of her head. "We'd probably better get dressed and back to the office, before anyone begins to wonder."
I can see she's disappointed that we won't be continuing, but she also knows I'm right.
"Don't let it happen again, Mr. Snow," my boss tells me as we walk back into our office, and she hands me my wallet.
"Yes, Mrs. Lance," I try to act humble, but I can still picture her getting off on her own fingers. I can't wait until I can drive my cock into her pussy, but it will have to wait.
'Did she ride you hard?' Thomas sends to me in an IM.
'You have no idea.' I respond.
The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly, other than catching occasional glances from Sheila that are anything but appropriate. Only AnnaBelle seems to notice anything not quite right, but I dismiss her, until she catches me in the elevator.
"A demon has taken over your soul, Mr. Snow," she tells me in all seriousness. My first thought is to panic. Had she seen Angela when she'd been in the office? Did she know what'd happened with Sheila and me?
Of course, not, I reason. How could she? The overly religious AnnaBelle Lewis would have said something earlier.
"I don't know what you mean," I tell her, trying to stay calm.
"Oh, yes you do," she denies my statement. "I can sense the corruption in your soul. You need to come to my church this Sunday. That'll set your head back on straight. Reverend Chilton is a great man, and he can help you."
Before I have a chance to respond, the elevator doors open, and she rushes out. Thankfully I won't have to deal with her for the entire weekend.
What the hell was that? I wonder. Can she actually sense the changes in me, or is it just her over-zealous religious attitude? I've never been very into the whole 'There must be a higher power than me,' scene, but I can't help but wonder after that conversation.
"Lyden," I hear a familiar voice yell, and I turn in shock to see the last person, or rather, persons, I expected to see standing next to the Orange Bubble. "We waited here all day. Ever since we returned your wallet," Becky says to me, her long chestnut brown hair tied into a braid and flowing over her left shoulder. In this light, I can finally tell that her eyes are a deep dark brown.
"Why'd you leave in such a rush last night?" Lisa asks immediately after, her blue eyes flashing. "We could have had a lot more fun."
"How'd you. . .?" I trail off, as I realize that I must have left my wallet at their place, and they would have known where I work from my ID; which means, they also must know where I live from my driver's license. "Are you ladies feeling alright today?" I ask, worried after having drained them both of so much energy last night.