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Collected by Djian
dec 4 - 2011

Another story by Callidus | Getting Raped | Blackmail | Secretary

M/F, cons, BDsm, humil, exhib, romantic, slavery


Secretary
Callidus

Finding My Man

I don't like boys. Granted, I've only been through high school, but that's why I used the term "boy". At any rate, they were either so awkward around me that they never made any decisions, or they were so full of themselves without concern for others that you couldn't help but despise their shallowness. Maybe I was being a tad quick to judge with the latter, and maybe I was being hypocritical with the prior, but either way I was simply never attracted to boys at school.

That's not to mean I didn't find them cute, or that I was a lesbian at all. I was certainly straight. I had the image of the perfect guy, certainly. He would be large, but not raw muscle, and he would be decisive, yet kind, and he'd be intelligent, but not arrogant, and he'd be funny, but he'd know when a joke was appropriate and when it wasn't. I guess my ideal man was the same as anyone else's... a lot of good things, but not so good that it became bad, and no actual bad things. I knew I'd never meet the ideal man, but the boys at school were so far from the mark that I never even bothered with them.

Not for lack of their trying, of course. Boys tried to flirt with me all the time, but they always managed to do it in such an unsure or overbearing way, with no in-between, that I was never interested in any of them, including my former crush, Ted. He was on the football team, and seemed a good combination of cute and nice, but then when he came on to me he was the overbearing type. Too bad. That fantasy was one of my favorites.

I was pretty unsure of my own looks. Everyone told me I was cute or pretty or hot or sexy, but I simply didn't trust them. I didn't think I was ugly, but I certainly didn't consider myself a dish, either. The only good points I could think of were the fact that I had large breasts, smooth skin, and bright, green eyes. My red hair was difficult to manage, I had freckles everywhere, I had a slight overbite, and my hips were too big. Everyone told me they were perfect, but I just didn't trust anyone about that, for some reason.

I did have one boyfriend. He's the reason I stopped liking the shy guys. He was cute, kind of dorky, but all around kind hearted. However, he never made any decisions. He didn't even try to have sex with me. I tried to get him to a few times, but that always just wound up me giving him head. Not that I minded. I discovered I liked giving head. I mean, it made him feel really good, and I loved knowing I could make him so happy. Further, it was simply a... well, I don't know how to describe it. It was very sensational. It felt smooth in my mouth, and it was sort of a challenge, trying to make him feel good while still breathing enough to stay conscious. Also, all of his attention was on it, on what I was doing, and it made me feel special.

That's what lead to our breakup. Long story short, my entire sexual life has lead me to the conclusion that I like giving head. I didn't know if I liked anything else, because nothing else happened, but from the sounds of it I get the impression I would have.

The summer after graduation, I joined a dating site. I even took a long time to type up my bio, to make sure a guy would take the time to get to know me if he liked what I wrote. Boy did I have a misconception! Every boy who could smash semi-lucid concept in less than lucid spelling and grammar sent me a message. Soon, it became a game. I would flirt, and I'd have cyber-sex. That was the first time I ever masturbated, by the way. I figured out what I liked more than giving head, by the way. Playing with my clit. Nut not right off, I needed the mood, first. The mood was exclusively in my head.

While I was mostly just playing, I wound up learning a lot about myself. It wasn't that I wanted a guy to be decisive. I mean, in general, yes. However, in bed, I wanted him to take me, to tell me what to do, to tease me, to make me beg for it. I don't know why, I simply liked it. Soon, I began trying to find a man for real, again. The playing wasn't satisfying, as I had to lead the guys into doing it right, and it felt unnatural and wrong.

The day before I was about to leave for college, I got a message from someone who understood the English language. Not only was his message well structured, it contained well thought out ideas. It was almost two pages, but I read the whole thing. I got excited, even. I hoped I had finally met my man. I had a daydream about one day living with him, though for some reason I didn't permit myself to envision a marriage. I almost did, but I stopped myself. I emailed him back in earnest.

I tried to show off a bit, I tried to sound as sophisticated as his message made him come off, but I just couldn't pull it off. I continually checked for his reply to me, but it didn't come. I went through a week of getting into the school and an introduction class thingy that was only one day, and most of the first week of actual classes. I had given up hope, but then I got another massage from him!

After I replied to that one, I got at least one reply back every day. I was excited. He was everything I ever wanted in a man, I gathered from our discussions. Mature, decisive, intelligent, funny, and all that. He was even pretty decent looking.

Eventually, he told me what he called his terrible secret, the reason he was single. He was apparently into BDSM. I spent the next week discussing it with him. It was a brand new concept to me, but he had apparently been into it for years. He explained what it was, and he told me why his exes left. They refused to trot around in skimpy clothing for him in public.

I will admit that had me scared. I liked the rest. He liked getting head, of course, and I liked giving it, but he was into a sort of power exchange. He would tell me what to do, I'd have to do it. There'd even be a contract. Hypothetically, I mean. We were only talking, after all. However, being told what to do, none of my holes being off limit, being exposed to strangers... the idea got me excited. Again, I don't know why, I only know that.

After another week of talking about things, and me admitting I was excited, he told me he would like to meet me. However, he wanted to run the meeting/date as a sort of job interview. He said he'd explain if I passed the test. Again, I got excited. Really anxious and a sexy kind of scared, but excited. I agreed to it, and he told me to wear a thong and a matching, lacy bra under my nicest dress, as it was a formal restaurant.

I felt dizzy and hot as my heart skipped a beat. Sure, it was strange to meet someone in a kind of underwear they told you to wear, but it was exciting. If he were so intelligent and witty in person, I knew I'd be sleeping with him anyhow, but wearing the underwear felt almost like I was giving him permission to have sex with me before the date even started. Which, admittedly, itself was exciting in that strange new way I had been experiencing since talking to him.

For the first time in my life I cared what a boy, no; a man, thought of me. That Saturday, I went to the mall and got some nice underwear and a matching bra. It was almost sixty bucks, but I figured it'd be worth it. I thought I looked good after I took the time to apply make-up. Then, I put on my nice black-floral dress. It was nice and thin and showed some cleavage, but there was no threat of being overly skimpy. Then, what if this man told me to take the dress off in public? Would I have the guts to do it? Why wasn't my first thought more like 'why would I do what he said'? At any rate, I got dressed and ready way too early, and wound up studying a little and worrying I didn't look good enough or the dress wasn't dressy enough in between.

But then the limo showed up. I watched it pull up from my window. He never said he'd show up in a limo, but I somehow got the impression it was him anyhow. Then I saw him get out. He looked just like in his pictures, except in a fancier suit. I was worried I was under-dressed, and froze in panic as he disappeared into the front doors of my dorm building. After several minutes, there was a knock at the door. It was gentle, yet firm. I was too scared to go answer it, I was worried I wasn't up to his standards.

My room-mate, on the other hand, wasn't nearly so nervous. She bounced to the door and let him in. I pretended I was reading the biology book in front of me, but I knew the heat radiating from my cheeks would alert him to my pretense. He laid his hand gently on my shoulder and said, "Cindy, would you accompany me to dinner, tonight?"

I looked up at him as I stood. It was weird. I felt... loose, I guess. I felt like if I had to pee, I would have. Good thing I didn't. I was light headed, and it felt like I was standing crooked. I could feel the underwear far too well, and I felt that he could somehow see it, and he would know that I was wearing it for him, because he told me to, because I had already, unconsciously, accepted being his sex-toy.

And then I tripped. If he didn't see the underwear before, he did then, because my legs flew open. I tried to get up, to restore my composure, and he helped me up, even making a sly, yet nice joke in guessing I was at school to learn to dance. I would like to recall the wording, but I was so self conscious and embarrassed that I couldn't focus.

For a long time in the limo, I was quiet. I would look at him, then look away when I saw him move to look at me. He finally broke the silence, saying "There's no need to be this nervous. This is just a date slash job interview. What happens happens."

His words soothed me slightly, but his arm around me made me feel more personable, like he was a person just reaching out to another person... just like me, sort of. We talked the rest of the way, but not about sex or sexuality or BDSM or anything like that. It was just talk. We discussed our childhoods, made jokes, discussed hobbies, and even got into philosophy a bit, which he knew far more about than I, but I still enjoyed it.

At the restaurant, we continued to discuss things in that light manner. When dessert came, I was impressed and self assured enough to ask him when the interview started. He told me it already had, but then asked if I wanted the formal part out of the way. I told him "Yes, please."

He was suddenly very serious. He described to me a job position, but described it thusly; "You will be my secretary and personal assistant. You will be more than a personal assistant, however. While at work, you will be my sex slave. This duty includes, but is not limited to, pleasuring me sexually, on demand, and in whatever way I desire. Your uniform will be lingerie, and other workers will probably see your privates at one time or another."

He went down a checklist that got me embarrassed he was saying it so loud, yet excited as well. I agreed to everything he said, even though some of it seemed questionable. He assured me the sex and lingerie parts were illegal for any legally binding contract, so this contract was one enforced by him and by me, by our self-discipline and, in my case, his disciplining of me. I can't claim I was sure of it all, but I was excited and curious enough to agree. He slid a contract over to me. Not legally binding, but worded as though it were.

Before we were about to leave, he said there was one final thing. He wanted to make sure I was brave and obedient enough for the job. He told me to go to the bathroom and, once in there, take my dress off. He said somebody would be in to fetch me. I could either give that person my dress, or I could leave it there. Regardless which I chose, I would walk from the bathroom, in the back of the building, to the front of the building, out the doors, to the limo. We would then discuss my pay. I hadn't even considered pay! I was almost scared of my willingness here, but I was too aroused to question it.

He got up and left, then. Suddenly. It took a moment for me to really consider what he wanted me to do. Slowly, I got up. I walked to the bathroom with a thudding heart, feeling like I was standing at an odd angle again. I made it there, and got in a stall. I was the only one in there, so I slowly peeled the dress off. It was a nice dress, and I wondered if I'd get it back. I also wondered why I kept going. I had an option, and I knew that, but I was doing this anyway. I signed a contract. I knew he'd want me to get skimpy in public. This would prove I was better than his exes. God would I be embarrassed, though. Everyone would see my wide hips, my freckles, my unhidden butt cheeks! They would see that I shaved my pubic hair, as none would peek out of the too small underwear! I knew I was blushing, and I started worrying about that, too.

Soon, I heard the door open. "Miss", I heard the hostess say. The worry left me a bit. Just the hostess. She was probably... probably what? "Miss, I was told you'd have a dress for me?"

My heart skipped a beat one more time then, and I realized he must have asked her to take part. She would know it was my dress, and she would ask me what I was doing? Did she get paid for doing this? Was this an elaborate trick? No, I doubted that. Still, it was an awkward situation. I knew walking out of the restaurant nearly nude would be as well, though. I took a deep breath and held my dress, folded, out under the door of the stall.

I heard her take steps toward the stall, she took the dress, and paused. I breathed very quickly and shallowly as I waited for her to ask me what the meaning of my actions were. I forced myself to calm down, to take deeper breaths, because my vision began narrowing. I didn't want to pass out like that! However, she sighed and left.

I had that strange, relaxed, loose feeling again. I was going to walk out there, in a nice restaurant, wearing nothing but a somewhat lacy black thong, and a matching, lacy black bra. Nothing would be left to the imagination. I was aroused, yet worried. I was excited, yet embarrassed. I could feel the coldness of the bathroom, and knew I was hotter than usual. Most odd was the wetness on the inside of my panties, and slightly to the side of their edge. I was wet! Wetter than I had ever been, and it was showing!

I knew if I didn't leave then, I wouldn't be able to. I went for it.. I opened the stall, and almost stopped when I saw an older lady washing her hands. She wasn't looking at me, and I stopped looking at her. As I got to the door, I heard and felt her look at me, but she said nothing. I opened the door and was outlined in the light of the bathroom against the dark of the nook the bathrooms were in. I marched right past a man I sensed in my peripheral as he was coming from the men's bathroom. I knew it was warmer in the lobby than the bathroom, yet the heat leaving my body made it feel colder. I imagined I was blushing all over my body, my nerdy freckles fading into pink flesh. Oh God, I realized my vulva would be brightly pinked, too. And moist. What if someone could smell my arousal?!

But I didn't stop to think. I got to the main dinning area. It seemed every table was full, all eyes turned my way, and I had that relaxed feeling alongside the anxiety. It felt like I would definitely have peed if I had any urine in my bladder. Children's eyes got covered, men watched my breasts wiggle and my butt wobble with each step, I knew I had no secrets. People whispered, and one lady shouted "Get that tramp out of here!".

I passed a family of five on my way out the door. I knew everyone was watching from the windows. The fire of the moment was over, the embarrassment fading as I approached the limo. I got to the door, and the limo pulled forward. I was too embarrassed to use my voice, so I worriedly followed it. It went to the drive-way, and the door opened for me.

I jumped in, and looked at John in the eyes. I had such a cocktail of emotions. I hated the embarrassment, but loved the arousal. I loathed the disapproving crowd, but I enjoyed the rush. I was angry that he made me go through with that, but I also knew I chose to do what he said. Mostly, though, I wanted to have sex with him. More than anything, in that moment, I wanted to lose my virginity to that man.

After the rush, I was ready to express it. As the limo drove off, I simply asked, "Can we have sex, now?"

He smiled and asked "You want to have sex after I made you do that?"

I replied honestly, as I didn't have any other ideas what to do, "I don't understand it, I only know what I want, right now."

"I'm sorry, that will have to wait until your first day." Then he asked me about the experience, and he led me in a manner he called "socratically" into figuring myself out a little more. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself, though he also seemed pleasantly surprised at how I was answering.

As we pulled up to my dorm, though it was dark, he offered me a long coat and walked me to my room's door. He kissed me, and I embarrassed myself a little more by giggling like a little girl, then apologizing for it. He told me not to apologize unless I really meant it, then left. After I couldn't help but reveal I was wearing only underwear (and my three inch pumps) under the coat, my roomies asked me what the hell happened, and I shared every detail. They made fun of me, calling me strange, but I agreed with them and we shared girly stories into the night. I couldn't wait to get to work that next Friday.

Bumpy Road

All week long I was scared of running into someone who saw me at the restaurant, or someone taking a video that went viral on-line, or something about it in the news, but nothing like that happened. My roomies teased me about it some more, but that was mostly innocent fun. Then, a girl down the hall somehow got wind of it. This girl was majoring in history, but she said she wanted to focus on the women of history, to teach what the media overlooks because of of latent gender based assumptions about history.

It was a joke the first week, but then everyone just grew tired of the joke, I guess. Wound up, it wasn't just a joke. She was the stereotypical crazy feminist. She cornered me after history, a class I had with her, and told me that I was the problem with society, that women would never get their fair share if they continually allowed men to tell them what to do, if they continued to allow themselves to be subjugated and objectified. The event hurt me. Frankly, I was naive, I was new to my self-discoveries, and I wasn't quite sure who I was, at the time. I wound up shouting at her, telling her to leave me alone, and I ran back to my room to cry, skipping lunch.

Was I allowing the subjugation of women? Was I hindering the progress of women worldwide? I didn't see how it could effect women everywhere. I mean... I liked it. It was strange, it was embarrassing, and it was certainly abnormal, but there was some twisted pleasure I got from it. It was a deep pleasure, one I never expected, but I wanted to hold on to it. But was it a bad thing to do? I'm sure murderers felt good after they murdered someone, after all. Something feeling good doesn't make it acceptable.

I haven't yet mentioned how I had grown up in a very conservative home. Sex was barely discussed at all, and when it was insinuated at, the insinuations led to talk of sin and hellfire. Yet, that night at the restaurant, I felt somehow liberated from societal norms, while simultaneously being bound to the biding of John. I had always disagreed with my overzealous family, but that doesn't mean some of the guilt didn't stick somewhere deep in my subconscious. Perhaps that's why I was so ignorant about my libido.

I emailed John and told him what happened. I told him about my mixed feelings, and asked him what he thought, if he thought what I did was wrong. I knew he'd be biased, but I was getting comfortable with him, having shared such intimate thoughts with him the past few weeks. I was looking for comfort, but I was also scared what he said wouldn't be right. I mean, if what the girl down the hall said was right, what he said couldn't be.

I had a reply as soon as I got back from my math class that evening. He said basically what I expected, that he disagreed with her. My surprise, however, was how he said it. He told me that, yes, he disagreed. However, it was up to me to figure out what I believed. He told me the contract is part of the game, for him. Yes, I agreed to do what he said , and I agreed to be his sex toy, I agreed to walk the border of the law by being indecent in undefined kind of public ways, but it's just an agreement between us two, for the mutual happiness of us both. If I wanted out of the deal, he would not hesitate to let me go.

He said he'd miss me, too. He apparently grew kind of fond of me through our on-line discussions and our one date. I grew fond of him, too. His reply was so far from what I expected. I guess I expected him to say to ignore her, I signed the contract already, etc, but he was understanding and comforting. How could such a genuine man be the wrong one, here? How could the abrasive girl down the hall be right? She yelled at me, tried to force me to agree. John didn't try to force my mind into anything, he made it clear I had a choice, and he made it clear that he wanted me to be happy.

My decision wasn't that easy or fast, of course. I mulled it over all weak. When the girl down the hall, I think her name is Freya, found me in the dinning hall on campus, she was again abrasive. She sat at my table, uninvited, and told me once again why she thinks a woman taking the submissive role in a relationship was harmful to women everywhere, how it would take away their choice. I started crying again, but this time I yelled back.

I told her, "You're not giving me a choice! You're telling me to agree with you, while John let's me decide, and he's gentle, and he's caring! As strange as it is, I liked what I did! I took part of my own free will. Isn't that what women's lib was all about? Giving women the right to choose?! Leave me alone, you big bully!"

My little speech wasn't terribly thought out, and I would have said it much differently if I had thought about it beforehand, but I was so frustrated I couldn't deal with her. I didn't finish or even throw away my food. I simply left. I didn't go to my room and cry, though. I was proud of myself. I was still scared she was right, but at least I stood up for myself, that time.

As worried as I was, I was excited when Friday morning rolled around. I was still looking forward to exploring my sexuality. I was looking forward to getting challenged to free myself from societal norms, while, ironically, being shackled to John's libido. The feelings I felt were so new and awkward, I'd feel terribly if I didn't do it. Who could feel good when they denied a chance to learn more about their true, deeper self?

Don't get me wrong, I was scared and anxious, too, but in that sexy way I never knew until the previous weekend. I put on the same underwear I had for the date. I wanted something else, but nothing else I had was sexy, and I didn't have money for anything new. At least, not until I got the fifteen hundred dollars for working that day!

I didn't mention my pay, did I? John was going to pay me under the table, so no taxes. He said the amount was due to the difficulty of the job, and he assured me that if it made me feel cheap, he could just as easily not pay me at all. It did make me feel cheap until he said that. I mean, I wanted to do this thing, and I would have without pay, so why not accept the money to help with school? He said my pay would be $1,500 every week, regardless how many times a week I went in. Unless I didn't go in at all, of course. He said if I wanted to become his permanent secretary, he would increase the pay. He didn't say to how much. He said, though, he'd draw up a real contract for the secretarial job, and pay me for the sex slavery separately.

Either way, I wore more of a business suit sort of skirt and blouse over the underwear, though I had no business jacket. I suspected he was going to have me work in my underwear or less anyhow. I wore the same pumps, since they were my best shoes. Finally, I drove to the building downtown I had directions to. On my way, I wondered what sorts of things he'd have me do. I wondered if I was going to lose my virginity, I wondered if he would want to have anal, I wondered how often he'd want me to go down on him, and where. I wondered how many people would see me in my underwear, and how many of his coworkers would be alright with it. What kind of legal trouble could he get in for this? I hadn't really thought of that until I pulled into the parking garage.

Even though I was dressed in a way that seemed normal to the average person, I knew why I was there. I knew I'd get to see John, that I'd have to do what he says. I knew he'd embarrass me and turn me on in deviant ways I only recently discovered. So, I was getting a little embarrassed and, therefore, aroused, as I moved through the building.

The lobby was mostly glass, and everyone seemed to ignore me. They were busy business people, and they had to get there. I, on the other hand, was almost half an hour early, so I took my time and explored a bit. I found a cheap, generic dinning hall in that first floor, and it had several name brand places attached on the side for people who wanted the name brand stuff instead of the bland stuff. I found a daycare center, too. The rates were decent. It must have been a business favor for the employees in the building, plus a tax cut. I don't understand exactly how it would work, but that seemed reasonable to me.

Finally, I got to the elevator and went to the fourth from top floor, which was floor number 47. The elevator opened up into a different kind of environment from the first floor. It was, well, a very officy environment. There were desks to either side, and I was in a giant room full of cubicles. There were offices along the three other walls.

As I walked in, out of the elevator, a receptionist at one of those first two tables asked if she could direct me somewhere or help with finding someone. I asked her if she could take me to John Brennor's office, and she told me it was the one down the hallway to the right of her desk. Sure enough, there was a hallway on the other side of her desk from me, on the wall the elevator door was on. As I walked down it, I could tell this is where the big bosses of this office were, as the hallway was wooden and decorated. I got to the third and last door on the right, and saw John's name on it. I had a rush of heat and excitement flood through my veins, and then I knocked.

I heard John say "Come in." through a little speaker to the right of the door. I hadn't seen it, even though it stuck out of the wall a good few inches. I felt a little dumb about that, but I shrugged that off as the least of my concerns and opened the door softly. I tried to sneak in, half hoping I would go unnoticed. I was there to get noticed by John, so it was counterintuitive, but that's what I did. I was obviously still scared about the whole thing.

The office was very spacious. There was a large desk at the end of the room, and the rest of the room was well decorated. The light was ambient and warm, reflecting off of the wood of the walls. There were plants in each corner and one on the big desk, and two near a small businessy looking table in the center of the room. One wall, the one on the left, had an aquarium full of fish in it. Immediately to my right as I entered was another, smaller and simpler desk. It had a filing cabinet behind it, a computer monitor on it, an in and out-box, and John was behind it.

I looked at him meekly and whispered "Hi.". I knew I was blushing and had a stupid grin on my face. He looked back at me warmly, but he also kept his face fairly stern. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

He said, "Come here.", and I did, without hesitating. Standing next to him, I realized how much taller than me he was. I was just over five feet, he had to be about six. I got that strange anxious/relaxed feeling, and I felt warm. He hugged me. I didn't expect that, but it was welcome. I dropped my purse to my feet and hugged him back. It felt great. It was the emotional reassurance I needed. While hugging, he looked at me and said, "I'm going to teach you the basics today, but first; How are you? Are you still upset over what that feminist girl said?"

I wasn't about to begin lying to him, so I answered frankly, if a bit weakly, "Well... yes. I mean, I don't know if she's right or whatever, but... I mean... I need to find out."

I wanted to say so much more, and so much more eloquently, but I was feeling very emotional and vulnerable at the time. John simply replied, "Well, let's find out." and he grabbed my right butt cheek firmly as he kissed me deeply. I almost fell over again when he let me go. His stern face was back, but I already had the assurance I needed. I was getting excited, then.

"Before anything else, you need to know your place with me. I'm your boss, and your Master, both. So for now, we're going to get you to act the part. From this moment forward, you will not address me except by either the term 'Sir' or 'Master', your choice. Make one of those words the beginning or period of every sentence you utter to me. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir." I said without the meekness I had before, getting a bit excited about his commanding me to take off some clothes or give him head or whatever.

He took a card from his pocket and handed it to me, saying "You will go here tomorrow. I have ordered and paid for several of your new business suits, but you have to go get sized some time tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir!" I said again, excited about getting whatever lingerie or underwear or actual suits that he had ordered. I leaned down on my knees to put it in my purse, and stood back up to listen to the rest of his commands. I was liking this!

"We're going to take this slowly, to make sure you get into and understand each matter of your service here. In addition to my title, you will always stand with your legs spread apart, about three feet, while addressing me, and you will place your arms behind your back, each arm grabbing the other's elbow. Get it?"

I adjusted myself as he said it, spreading my feet apart and grabbing my elbows behind my back. It was more awkward than I expected, but still easy enough to hold for a while. Three feet also wound up being noticeably spread, too! Nobody would stand like that on accident. "Yes, Sir."

"Another thing I want you to get used to doing this morning is asking permission. You have to ask permission for everything you do in here, be it sit, walk towards or away from my desk, go to the bathroom, go to lunch, leave for the day, enter the office, etc. You do nothing without explicit permission."

"Yes, Sir." I said. I gulped a bit after that one. I knew it'd be difficult to do. Not because the task itself was difficult. I could talk, I could make requests. It would be difficult to remember to, though.

"Now, to officially start the day, I have several tasks for you. First, get me a cup of coffee. Two packs of sugar, no cream. Second, when you get back, acclimate yourself to your desk here" he motioned to the desk right there on the right, "and, in doing, write out these rules I gave you this morning, and email them to yourself. I want you to be able to recite these rules on command, in order. Third, after those two tasks, take the papers in the in-box here and file them in the filing cabinet behind you. I don't care what filing method you use, so long as you can find any document I tell you to get me in under one minute. Go, do your tasks, pet."

That last command sent a shiver down my spine, in a good way. I half turned to go find where to get coffee for him, but then I remembered the third rule I was given and turned back, standing in that same spread out and vulnerable position, "Sir? May I please leave the office to get you your coffee, Sir?"

"Please do, pet." He said kindly, and he turned to walk to his desk at the end of the office, in front of the big window. I turned around and left the office. I was excited about the rules, about how formalized this was. I was looking forward to seeing what else he sent my way, but then I was in the hallway to the cubicles, and my mind turned away from my strange passions and I was thankful he hadn't told me to take anything off. I would probably see the people there a lot, and I didn't want to get embarrassed in front of the same people, people I'd get to know, all the time. I feared it would happen anyway, but I was glad it wasn't happening just then.

I asked that first lady by the elevator where to go for coffee, and she smiled at me as though she realized something. "You're John's new assistant, aren't you?"

"Yes I am." I said blushing. What did she know about our agreement, and what kind of former agreements did he have with his former assistants? What kind of insight did this woman have?

I didn't have much time to think about it, as she then went on to welcome me to the office, "Welcome aboard. I'm sure you'll like it here. We can chat later, though, miss...?"

She was obviously asking my name, so I said "You can call me Cindy. Cindy Brown. Nice to meet you."

As I offered her my hand to shake, she accepted and said "I'm Nicole Jefferson." After the introductory shake, she made a vague motion to the elevator and continued, "You'll find a coffee shop down in the food court. Tell them you work here and give them your name. They'll run a quick check and then get you whatever coffee you want. We don't all get coffee on the business, so don't be ashamed to abuse that power."

I found that the lady's niceness almost made me forget the reasons I was really there. I almost thought of it as a real job. I guess it was, but not really a real job. Well, whatever it was, I discovered the woman was right. I gave the girl at the coffee shop my name and told them I worked for John as his assistant, and they asked me what I wanted. I got two coffees, one for him and one for me. Two sugars for him, stirred, and covered. I like creamer, though. A creamer for me, four sugars, and mine was good.

The elevator was full, but I was fully dressed still, so no problem. Most people got off before my floor, but one guy in a suit went to the same floor. He seemed in a rush, but I didn't interact with him. We parted ways at the elevator door. I smiled at Nicole on my way past, and she smiled back, but she was on the phone. I continued past her, to the hallway, and to John's office. On inspecting the speaker coming from the wall, I noticed a button on it. It was not labeled, but I pushed the button anyhow. A moment later, John's voice came from it, saying "Come in".

I pushed the door open carefully, since I had to hold both coffees with a single arm in order to use the free hand to turn the knob. The cup I pushed in the top nobbies of I placed on my desk, then I took one step towards John's desk. I remembered the rule, and set my feet on the floor at about three feet apart, again, as I wondered if he'd have me do anything sexy any time soon. I mean, what I was doing was sexy, but I mean more directly. I also realized I couldn't hold my arms in the prescribed manner, so my right hand, my free hand, I placed behind my back, but the other stayed in front, with his coffee.

"Don't worry, you did it right. I forgot to mention that. If you have something in your hand or are doing some sort of work or are otherwise unable to stand exactly as I told you to, just spread your feet as far as you reasonably can and put only one arm behind your back, or neither if they're both busy. If I have you doing something more intimate, you can ignore the rule until the job's over." John explained from his desk, then went back to reading some paper he had in his hand.

"Yes, Sir. Also, may I approach your desk?" I said, making a slight motion with the coffee, as though to explain why.

"Go ahead, pet. Also, though, you didn't begin or end that second sentence with 'Sir', so when you get over here, remove your shirt."

"Yes, Sir" I said, as I walked towards his desk. As I got there, I was already unbuttoning the top button, and I set his coffee on a coaster made of wood and foam. I spread my legs as I finished removing my shirt, then I held my shirt behind me as I held my elbows. I was standing there in my skirt and bra, and the embarrassed excitement and relaxed feeling came flooding back as I waited for whatever he might say next.

"Sir, I'm sorry fo..."

He cut me off with a dismissive wave of his finger and looked up to me, "I told you, don't apologize unless you really mean it. This next lesson I was going to save for this afternoon, but you were not careful in speaking to me. Lean forward."

He turned his chair and opened a drawer in his desk, reaching in to retrieve something. I leaned forward, drooping my filled DD bra over his desk. He finally pulled two clothespins from his drawer, and placed one on his desk. The other he kept in his hand, his free reaching up to cup my left breast. "This lesson is to not move away from me when I'm either correcting your behavior or simply playing with you. It might hurt, yes, but you earned it, so accept it with humility."

And with that, he opened up the clothespin and placed it over where he felt my nipple. I was scared it would hurt. Well, I knew it would. How much? How long would he keep it on there? Would I be able to stand it that long? Would something like this happen with every slip up, or just during my introduction/training phase? At any rate, I was excited to find out. It pinched down on the cloth over my nipple, the pressure a bit softer than if it was my flesh, but still obvious. I cringed a bit, but I held my position.

He placed the second clothespin on my other nipple, after feeling for it. His feeling for them made them more obvious. It hurt. I wanted to pull them right off, but this was for John. As much as I wanted to pull them off, it was also sexy. Even though it pinched my nipples painfully, I was getting aroused by it. What kind of pervert was I?! I wasn't sure which sensation was winning, the arousal or the pain. I kept jumping between my urge to pull them off and my obligation to do as John said.

He leaned on his elbows with his hands under his chin, and said "Now, pet, finish your other tasks. Those come off when I think you've learned your lesson."

"Yes, Sir." I said, "May I return to my desk, Sir?"

"Yes." He said, as he turned his attention back to that paper he had.

I stood upright, turned, and went to my desk. As I walked and my breasts wobbled, the pins became obvious. I think I came close to crying, but this was another sexy challenge for me to overcome. I almost sat down, but then stood in position and turned towards John, "Sir, may I be seated to finish my tasks?"

"Yes, pet." He replied warmly. It was strange how he could be so stern, yet also so warm. I sat, and I began organizing the desk a bit, how I'd find it comfortable. I turned and hit the clothespin on my right breast once. The pain was becoming dull as time went on, but that renewed it and made it even worse. I sighed and rubbed around the pin, not daring to touch it, lest I get either more severely punished or make that pain worse. I also caught John watching me as I did it. He smiled, then continued reading. I wanted to go over there and fuck his brains out. Was I allowed to ask that? Was he building up to it? When would we have sex? How was I so turned on by such weird things?!

On My Knees

After I emailed myself the three rules he gave me, I began organizing the files in the in-box, into the filing cabinet behind me. Just as I started that, John said "Hey, slave." When I stood in that position and looked his way, he said, "If you're in the middle of business, you don't have to do that. Anyway, it's time to take those off."

With a sigh of relief, I pulled them off simultaneously. I popped my arms behind me and said "Thank you, Sir!", and just then, the blood rushed back into my nipples. It pinched like when they were first put on, so I scrunched up my face and waited for it to subside. Once it did, I asked, "May I sit down, now, Sir?"

"Go ahead." He said, still watching me. I wasn't really sure if he was watching for anything, so I just got back to organizing things. It winds up whomever his previous assistant was, they were pretty unorganized. I eventually had everything out of the cabinet and started the organizing from scratch.

As I did, John would occasionally have me do some minor task, like find something in the mess I was organizing, add something to the mess, and nobody ever walked in. I followed all of the three rules, and enjoyed when he looked at my chest. I was getting wet all morning, wondering when he'd finally have sex with me.

Finally, at about 11:00, I had finish organizing the cabinet. I stood in position and announced it, remembering to call him "Sir". He had gotten busy with a bundle of paperwork, but he looked up at me and said, "Fantastic. Now that that's done, go down to supply and tell them that the armoire is late, and I need it as soon as they can get it up here."

"Yes, Sir" I replied. However, I was worried. Would he let me put my top back on? Should I ask? Would he make me try to find supply wearing just a bra? As exciting as the public humiliation would be, it would still be humiliating, so I went ahead and asked "Uh... Sir?"

"Yes?" He looked at me questioningly.

"Sir, may I please put my top back on?"

"Sure, but you owe me when you get back."

I didn't know exactly what he meant, and I wasn't sure if I should be scared or happy about whatever I owed him, so I simply replied "Yes, Sir." then put my blouse back on. Once it was on, I asked if I could leave to do my chore, he said yes, and I went to do it. I had a small chat with Nicole and asked her where supply was, and she gave me good directions as usual. Down a few floors was the storage floor. A whole floor just to store things. I guess it made sense in such a huge building, but I never really expected it.

It wasn't too nicely furnished. Functional, but it wasn't meant to impress anyone. A few wooden chairs, and a counter behind which was a gruffer looking fellow, though he didn't seem at all unfriendly.

"What can I do ya for?" He asked when the elevator opened.

"Um... I was told to come down her and ask what the hold up is on the armoire for Mr. Brennor's office? He said he needs it some time today." I said as I approached the desk. I almost put my arms behind my back like for John, but I stopped myself. and laughed inwardly.

The guy behind the counter said, "The guys are still putting it together, but it should be up there after lunch."

"Thank you." I said, and I went back into the elevator and up to floor 47.

When I buzzed the speaker by John's door and he let me in, he didn't even wait for me to turn around from shutting the door before saying "Pet?"

I turned, got into position, and said "Sir, they're putting it together right now, and they'll have it here after lunch, they said."

"That's good" said John. His desk was cleaned up, no papers on it. He had a hansom grin and a sparkle in his eye. I got excited, thinking it was almost time. Something sexy, perhaps my lost virginity, was about to happen! "Slave, remove your shirt again."

Slowly, to give him a show, I took it off. I wanted to dance and make it sexy, but I had never done anything like that and was too shy to try it out just then. The instant my shirt was off, he said, "Fold your shirt nicely, and lay it on your desk."

I happen to be good at folding clothes, so I did exactly as he said, quickly. Once my shirt was on my desk, I got back in position, and he was already saying, "Now the skirt. Remove it, and fold it nicely. Put it next to your shirt."

"Yes, Sir." I said, as I unbuttoned it, let it slip to the floor, and stepped out of it. I picked it up, folded it, and set it next to my shirt. My workspace was now totally covered in my clothes. I could feel the cool air on my exposed flesh, and I felt my blood pumping harder. I was blushing, and I had the anxious relaxed feeling. Was he going to have sex with me? Was he going to march me around the office like that? What was he about to make me do? Was I going to simply wear my underwear, like I had halfway earlier in the day?

As I was thinking what was about to happen, he said "Get on all fours, and crawl over to my side, pet."

"Yes, Sir!" I said, unable to hide my excitement. He was going to have sex with me! If not that, something sexy was definitely about to happen! I did as he said. I could feel the air flow behind and under me, warning me that my crotch was already ultra-moist. He watched me the whole way, focusing on my butt. It was fully exposed to him, unless you count the string running between my butt cheeks. I sure didn't! Not then! Crawling was embarrassing, sort of, and also a bit difficult.

Eventually, I made it to his side. Once I got there, he gingerly lifted me by my shoulders, until I was between his legs, on my knees, at his eye level. He started kissing me. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed back. I had never been so turned on in my life. I had never gotten so far with someone I found truly attractive before, either. We made out for what seemed like a very short time, but it wound up being five minutes. Then, he whispered in my ear "Suck my dick, pet."

It wasn't sex, like I had been hoping, but it was almost as good! I got to give him head! As I got down to the level of his crotch, I wondered if other girls got so excited about giving a guy head. I mean, yes, I sincerely liked it, but did other girls? Did gay guys? Was I odd in this way, too? I put those thoughts in the back of my head as I unzipped his fly and let out his monstrous dick.

Yes, "monstrous". I hesitated. My first boyfriend's dick was... well, I didn't measure it. but I'd guess about five inches while hard. This one seemed at least seven or eight, and it was much wider. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to get it in my mouth. I was so concerned that I looked up at him, obviously worried, and said "Sir... I think you're too big."

Most girls like big dicks. I hear girls talk about it, and they generally agree the bigger the better. Not that they won't have sex with a dude for having and average or even a somewhat small penis, from what I gather, just they like them as big as they can get. I discovered there was a too big. How would I get that in my mouth?!

"You're still getting trained, so just try. I'll guide you through it." He said, reassuring me.

I started out licking. I had some practice with that, and knew I could do it. Soon, I tried to get the head in my mouth. It fit! I mean, it took up a lot of room, and I was very scared of raking, but it fit. To avoid raking, I curled my lips in-between my teeth and John's dick. That made sucking hard, so I focused mostly on the licking. I went in circles around him, trying to move forward and back. I moved my lips on him as I did, and he seemed to be liking it. He was watching me, moving his eyes around. He would watch my face, then look upwards, I presumed at my ass, then he'd watch my face more.

"Okay, that's really good, but try to go deeper." He told me. The few times I had given head before, I really tried to do my best then, as well. I had learned that I could get it down my throat by swallowing it. It sounds kind of obvious, but I mean it. Then just pull back off of it to get it out, just don't breath while it's down there. I was convinced I'd never get this whole thing, but I figured I'd try anyway. No harm in that, right?

Well, as I swallowed it, it kind of burned my throat, like my esophagus was stretching too wide to accommodate it. And I barely even got half of it, to boot. I was starting to feel really intimidated, and like I was failing. I thought I was going to get in trouble again and I'd have to wear the clothespins on my bare nipples, or something. I tried it again, and it hurt. I coughed, and I couldn't help but come right off of it.

I had an idea, then. I'd make up for not being able to get it all in my mouth by using my hand to jerk off the bottom, the part that wouldn't go into my mouth! I started doing that, but trying to swallow it hurt every time. After a few attempts, I was crying, and I choked it back up. I almost threw up. I accidentally breathed some spit or throw up or both, and I started coughing hard. I pulled back and clutched at my chest.

"I'm sorry, Sir!" I cried when I had a lungful "I'll get better *cough, cough* I promise, S*cough*rrr..."

As I tried to catch my breath, John pulled me up, back the way we were when he started kissing me. He gazed into my eyes, and softly said, "Listen, I know I'm well endowed enough for it to be a bad thing, but I'm patient. I'm not going to demand you get the whole thing down your throat, or anything. All I ask is that you pleasure me enough to get me to cum. Also, to swallow. I hate when a chick doesn't swallow. That's besides my point, though. I care that you care. You're really putting effort in, and I appreciate that, but I understand if it takes you some time to get used to it. Just take it slowly. Today is training. If I don't cum, that's alright. This is just practice, getting you used to it. Try, but don't kill yourself."

A lump of coal was lifted off my heart. I felt appreciated, and that feeling is important, especially to a girl who's really trying. I went back to it. I didn't try to get as much down my throat, and I continued to use my hand. He still watched my face and my ass, alternating, and eventually, he strained. He held my head were it was, and he pumped slightly in and out. I relaxed, letting him do what he needed. I felt the back of my throat fill up, and I swallowed. When he pulled out of my mouth, I finally breathed. I swallowed the rest, and I had a strange feeling of fulfillment. I did it, I pleased him with my mouth! I was seriously worried I would be unable to, and it made me feel... well, proud, I guess. I even found myself saying to him "Thank you, Sir?"

"You like when a guy cums in your mouth?" He asked. He seemed sincerely curious.

"Well... I like when I make my man happy." I answered.

He gave me a goofy look. Not funny goofy, just odd. I felt I did something wrong, but I couldn't think of what. He was looking at me at an angle, as though waiting for something. I was curious what about, so I said "...Sir?"

"That's better, pet." He said, as he rubbed the top of my head. I was still confused, but I accepted the petting. It was odd. I was on all fours, he called me "pet". I was kind of like a pet. A sex pet. God was I wet at the moment. All the time spent wondering, all the time being sort of embarrassed. It was relieved, now. The pressure was gone. It was replaced with a pride and gladness that I had pleased him, but I was still just as horny as before.

After a moment, he put his manhood away, and motioned for me to get up. I stood in that position, and he glanced at my crotch just before opening a drawer in his desk. He pulled out some papers, and said to me, "Go to lunch, pet."

"Yes, Sir. May I go to my desk and put my clothes back on, Sir?" I asked, not yet moving.

He turned and focused on me, making me a bit conscious about the nigh dripping wettness of my crotch, and I was getting nervous he might try to embarrass me as at the restaurant. His reply was "Not counting what you're wearing on your feet, you can wear two things total, pet. Now go."

"Yes, Sir." I said. The relaxed, horny, nervous feeling I was getting kind of used to popped up as I considered my options. Two things. He specified the things on my feet as an exception, so everything else was not an exception, I presumed. Which means I could either wear my skirt and top without any underwear or my bra, or I could wear my underwear and bra but no clothes, or my bra with the skirt and no underwear, or my underwear with the shirt and no bra.

Or, I realized, I cold go with my shirt and my bra, with nothing else, or my g string and skirt, with nothing else. Every option seemed far too revealing. I knew I wouldn't get away without getting embarrassed. I went with the least revealing option, which was no underwear or bra, but I had my shirt and skirt. My shirt was semi-translucent, but I should be fine if it didn't get wet, and nobody would see that I had no underwear on, so that wasn't too big of a deal.

Smack

I realized John was watching me. as I picked up my skirt. I realized I wasn't sure how literal he was being. Could I only have up to two things on period, or just when I left? I didn't want to take any chances, so I set the skirt back down and I moved for the clasp of my bra. It was weird changing right there like that, him watching me, but I didn't want to shrink away or seem like I was trying to hide from him, either. Hell, I just gave him head, I should be able to take my bra off in front of him, right?

Well, I stopped hesitating and pulled my bra off. Again, I was still a bit nervous and I didn't have any experience taking my clothes off in a sexy way, so I didn't try. I simply took off my bra. John was watching my breasts as they wobbled from side to side as I set my bra down on my desk and picked up my skirt. I was a bit worried he'd disapprove, as my breasts tend to droop. I mean, they're large, yes, but they don't magically float. They have mass. He smiled, though. It was surprisingly relieving to have him unofficially approve of my breasts like that, and I almost giggled.

I suppressed the giggle, and I put on my skirt. After my skirt was on, I pulled the sides up to get to my panties, and I pulled them down, stepping out of them as I released my skirt. Finally, I put my shirt on. Some air managed to make it's way up my skirt, reminding me how wet I was and about not wearing panties, but I wasn't really too worried about that, since nobody would be able to tell.

As I went through the permissions and the position, I left the office and immediately realized the no bra thing would reveal itself in that my nipples were really hard. Given the things I had learned about myself recently, I realized that would only enhance the problem. Also, no panties meant that if my arousal could be smelled, little would be in the way of smelling it. I knew there was a smell to it. Mine, as far as I knew, had never been obvious. I always had on at least panties as a buffer, plus I had never been this aroused before, though.

Before actually leaving, I went to the bathroom. There wasn't anything I could do about my hard nipples being obvious, but I lifted my skirt and used a paper hand towel and some soap to remove my own juices. However, I then realized I could remove some of my tension by, well, relieving my tension. If I did, though, someone could walk in and hear me in the stall I chose. Also, the longer I took cleaning myself, the more likely someone would walk in during that. I decided not to waste time. I used the toilet quickly, cleaned myself, and left.

Nicole was gone. I planned on asking her to help me find a good place for lunch, but I figured I could just try the place on the first floor. Worse case scenario; I didn't like it and only ate enough to satisfy my hunger. Best case scenario, I loved it. Winds up it was pretty good. I had a turkey sandwich and some baked chips with a diet Coke. Not great, but good. It was worth the six dollars, anyway.

As I sat eating, I couldn't help but think of what John might make me do when I got back. So far, my imagination was focused mostly on the embarrassment. What about that clothespin thing, though? It hurt so bad I almost cried, but I was also being pretty emotional that day. Even though it hurt, though, I liked it. It was the strangest thing. How could pain be arousing? Why was it that sensation which are considered bad, which I had first hand experience with being bad, could also turn me on? It's not like the pain or the embarrassment somehow felt good. They were still pain and embarrassment, they just turned me on.

I ate slowly, due to mulling over my recent experiences. I was barely even conscious of my environment. When I was done, I just went back up the elevator to go back to work. I wasn't really given a time limit, after all, and couldn't think of anything else to do. I was kind of surprised nobody stared at my chest while I was down there, though I did also sit facing away from people to avoid that, not to mention the fact I was in my head the whole time and probably wouldn't have noticed.

The cubicle area was mostly empty. I presumed most of them had gone to lunch. At John's office, I pushed the button again, and John said, "Come in." through the speaker. I did, but I noticed someone else in there, at John's desk. It was a man in a business suit, though I didn't recognize him. I wondered who it was and what his position in the company was, if John was his boss or he John's.

Either way, it didn't matter. I shut the door, suddenly worried how much of my skin John was going to allow this stranger to see, how long I'd be in the position, and everything. I had the strange vertigo thing happen, where it doesn't seem I'm standing straight, even though I know I am, as my heart started beating a bit faster. I simply stood by the door, in the position, as my womanhood began to lubricate itself up, again. I didn't want to interrupt.

I could only hear about half of what they were each saying, but apparently the stranger mistyped a header for an important client and was getting reamed by John. That solved the mystery of whom was who's boss. However, I was concerned. John seemed legitimately upset, though he kept an even tone. After a few minutes, the man took several folders and walked towards the door. I took a step to the side, getting anxious as he got close. He ignored me and left, shutting the door powerfully, but I wouldn't count it as a slam.

John was rubbing his temples as I said "Sir?"

"Yes, pet?" John said, sounding upset and monotonous.

"I... Sir, is there anything I can do for you, Sir? I... I didn't realize you weren't going to lunch, Sir, want me to get you something? Would you like a back rub, Sir?" I asked, not sure what I could do to make John feel better. I was in position, but I wasn't worried about that. John was upset, and that made me upset.

John simply sat as though thinking. After a moment, he seemed a bit less upset and said, "Thank you, pet. I got so used to lacking an assistant. Could you go get me a sandwich and... something to drink? I don't care what kind of sandwich or what the drink is, just something to eat."

"Yes, Sir." I said. I was about to ask if I could leave to go do that task, but then John spoke up again.

"Wait..." He said, as he lifted his head to look at me. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet as he finished "You don't have a card. I'll have to get that paperwork started. Here's to pay for it."

He got a ten spot out of his wallet and placed his wallet back in his pocket. He was upset, so I especially didn't want to make it worse by not following his rules, "Sir, may I come to your desk to get the money?"

"Permission granted, pet." He said. As I took my last few steps towards his desk, he looked up at me. He half smiled, and that made me feel better. I hate seeing people upset, especially people I care about. "Oh, I don't like tea."

As I grabbed the ten and stood back in position, I said "Got it, Sir, no tea. Permission to go get you yummy food, Sir?"

I tried to be a bit bubbly to cheer him up. I have to admit I was scared it would upset him, but I had to try something or else I'd have felt like a failure. He looked up at me and smiled. He breathed out in a relieved sort of way. That made me feel really good about my attempt to cheer him up, and I smiled widely. He answered "Go, pet. And thank you for being you."

I never expected that kind of praise! I mean, I guess I expected a little bit here or there, but that, right then, meant a lot to me. I felt lighter. I made him feel better just by being me! That's the coolest feeling I've ever had. I had to suppress another giggle as I said "Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!"

I left, almost forgetting about my lack of underwear. I was reminded about it again, though, as I went down the elevator. There were two men in the elevator with me. Business type men. They tried to hide it, but they both kept looking at my chest. I tried to stand so that my hard nipples were less obvious, but I didn't want to directly acknowledge it, so I couldn't just turn directly away. That'd be really awkward. They could still see how I had moved, so I tried to not think about it.

As I got back to the cafe place, I realized the embarrassing encounter in the elevator had gotten me fully wet, again. I couldn't help but wonder why being embarrassed had never turned me on before. Or maybe I simply never noticed. Or maybe I simply wasn't embarrassed in a sexy way. Maybe John simply knew what he was doing.

I returned to the office without any other incidents. It was about 1:00, and he was the only other person in there, again. However, as I turned and got into position to ask John if I could approach and give him his lunch, I saw my underwear and bra on my desk. That man who was in there earlier surely would have noticed that! That man knew I had no underwear! As I was thinking that, I didn't even get to ask the question. John said, "Come here, pet."

"Yes, Sir." I answered, as I walked up to his desk. I set his lunch and Coke on his desk and got into position. I was about to ask what he wanted me to do then, but he spoke before I did, again.

"Pet, when you went to lunch, where did you go?" He said with his elbows on the table, his fingers wrapped together to support his chin with his forefingers on his lips. It was how I imagined I would sit if I were asking a child what they did wrong and seeing if they'd admit it without me telling them I already knew.

"I... I went to the cafe on the first floor, Sir." I said, my bravery beginning to waver. "Was I n... Should not have, Sir?"

"No, no. That's fine. Was that the only place you went during your lunch break?"

"Um... Sir... I didn't go anywhere e..." It suddenly hit me that I used the bathroom. I was curious how he'd know that, and I also never considered I wouldn't be allowed to on my lunch break, though. I wanted to explain to him that I didn't realize I shouldn't have, but I also felt really guilty because, well, he was very specific about me having to ask to go anywhere or do anything. My momentary defensiveness fled away into a guilt for disobeying. I didn't disobey on purpose, but I did disobey, and I felt bad about that.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, Sir. I used the bathroom, Sir. I... I'm sorry, Sir." I said, worried I upset him, and also in half fear and half excitement at how he might punish me for it. I discovered I wanted him to punish me for it, even though I was simultaneously scared of getting punished.

"I'm glad you told me the truth. As I said earlier, today is your training. You're not used to this lifestyle, so I will go easy on you until you get used to it. However, I also can't just let you get away with it, can I?"

"No, Sir." I agreed.

"Lose the skirt, pet."

"Yes, Sir." I said, as I unbuttoned the skirt and let it fall to the floor. I stepped out of it and got back in position. John looked right at my crotch. My shaved, bare crotch. It was in plain view, and there was nothing I could do about it. Of course, I doubt I would have done something to cover up if I could have. I was fully exposed to my Master. I was incredibly self-conscious, but I was also glad it finally happened. I had been waiting for it. I knew it would happen. And there it was. My cheeks were as pink as my womanhood, though not nearly as moist.

John got up from his seat, pulling his suit jacket to straighten it out. He slowly walked around his desk, approaching from my left. I wasn't sure if I should turn to face him or not, so I just stood there, hoping that was right. He stood behind me, and I could feel my sex organs preparing. That was the relaxed, anxious feeling, I think. My organs doing whatever they do as they prepare for sex. My head was turned slightly, to look at his form behind me, though I couldn't see any details.

He moved, I didn't know what to expect, and his hands were suddenly on my hips. He pulled me back, forcing me to step backwards about half a step. My body weight was pushing back, into him. My rear... I could feel him! He was getting stiff! Was I going to lose my virginity?! How would that be a punishment at all?! His hands went up my sides. His hands barely made contact, it was like butterflies fluttering up my ribs. It tickled, and I tried not to put my arms down to protect my sides, but I couldn't help but laugh.

"Sir! Sir, no! It tickles!" I snorted out between laughs. His hands went softly over my shoulders, to my neckline, and down to the top button of my blouse. He unbuttoned it. The next one, too. Slowly, his breath gently on my ear. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, onto his shoulder. He pulled my blouse open and down. I moved me arms so it came off, and he threw it somewhere behind him. I put my arms back how they should be. I was nude, in position, totally open and ready for my Master.

His hands found my hips again. I opened my eyes and looked out the big window behind his desk. From my thighs up, I was exposed to the world, if they happened to be able to see in the window. Rationally, I knew they'd have a hard time at best, since it was darker inside than out. It enhanced my feeling of vulnerability, though, and worked to turn me on even more. This man certainly knew what he was doing!

His hands did the butterfly thing again, except this time he went down. His hands outlined my hips, went down to my thighs, and he held them firmly. His hands moved to the inside of my thighs ever so slowly, and he soon applied pressure to them, outward. "Open, pet. Show me you're mine."

One leg at a time, I moved me feet to each side, widening my stance. I felt more exposed the wider I stood, which made sense, since I was more exposed. My legs were as wide as I could get them, and he whispered "Good pet."

"Thank you, Sir." I said, not even thinking about it. His hands moved up, butterflying the insides of my thighs. He outlined my womanhood with his forefingers and thumbs, pressing the red/pink lips together. I moaned and pushed against his hands, my eyes closing as I leaned back into him. Soon, one of his hands moved onto my womanhood as his other spread my vulva apart. His fingers feathered my clit for a moment, before he simply pressed on it and rubbed lightly.

"Mmn... Sir... Sir, I... Mmmnng." I moaned as he continued. I stopped trying to talk. I didn't know what idea I was trying to communicate anyhow. His right hand stayed on my womanhood, playing with my clit, one of his fingers sinking dangerously inward, towards my vagina. His other hand worked it's way upward, towards my chest. He fondled my left breast by lightly kneading it and lifting it, as though examining it for consistency, or something. The sensation began building up, becoming more intense. I wasn't yet close to cumming, but I would get there soon by his expert hands.

The finger getting dangerously close to my vagina came perfectly close. It prodded inward, and I pushed down against it, trying to help him get it there. I rolled my head, focusing on the sensations. Suddenly, they stopped. All of them except the prodding at my vagina, which was more powerful. Not painful, but it was more like he was poking something to figure out what it was than what he had been doing up to that point. "Sir?"

"Are... are you a virgin, pet?" John said, pulling my body into his and placing his head forward, for me to address him face to face.

I looked at him as he moved both hands back to my waist, holding me, "Y... yes, Sir. Is that bad, Sir? Should I not be?"

"No, no. That's fine, babe. I just didn't expect it." He let go of me slowly, allowing me to hold myself up of my own power, again. I hadn't realized I was putting so much of my weight on him in the first place. He stepped around me, to be right in front of me, and placed his hands on my hips as he continued, looking into my eyes. "This explains a lot though, pet. Why you never realized what your tastes were, why that girl bothered you so much, why you always seem to be a little confused at first. It all makes sense, now."

"I'm sorry, Sir." I said, feeling bad, thinking I somehow let him down.

"No, it's fine. Like I said, I just didn't expect it. I should have, but I didn't." He was being very calm and patient with me. "I'm not going to take your virginity. Not today. If you want me to take your virginity, I want you to have had time to think about it. It's something you're going to have to earn, and I'm going to have to wait until I know you're comfortable with the idea, hence your having to earn it. Now, lean..."

John was cut off by a buzzing coming from a speaker on his desk. He sighed and pressed the button by the speaker, then said "Yes?" and released the button.

A male voice from the speaker announced, "It's Johnson, sir. I found the copy I meant to forward to you."

"Just email it to me, Johnson." John said. As I thought about that, I almost giggled. John... Johnson... I dunno, maybe I was just nervous, scared this Johnson fellow might come in while I was standing there, legs spread as far as they can be, arms behind my back, fully nude except for my shoes. Normally a simple similarity in name isn't that amusing to me.

The voice said "I'll have it out in a few minutes."

John turned back to me. "Now, back to the business at hand." At that, he moved to my side, almost straddling my outstretched left leg. He pressed me forward, at the top of my back. He did it firmly, yet slowly. I almost took a step forward, but his legs on either side of mine prevented it. Instead, I leaned forward. He continued pushing me until my torso was almost parallel with the floor. Almost. I wasn't able to bend any farther without falling.

"Put your hands on the floor, pet. Hold yourself up. Keep your head above your heart." I moved slightly at each command. I put my hands on the floor, under directly below my chest. I arched my back to keep my head above my heart. It was an awkward, difficult pose to remain in. I strained as I held myself up.

*Smack* landed the first spank, right on my left cheek. I wasn't ready, and said "Ow!".

"You mean 'Ow, Sir'. That's five extra." He said in his usual tone. "Count out loud or I'll lose my place."

The pain was sudden, unexpected, while I was trying to maintain that awkward pose. I almost fell. I was helpless, and it really did hurt. Regardless, there was something about it. Something about the challenge, the lack of control. I could feel my sex lubricating itself as the second spank landed *smack!*.

"Two, Sir!" I sounded more shocked than I meant to, more surprised. I guess I really was surprised. Now both cheeks felt warm. The pain of the smacks took a short moment to wear off, but the heat remained. I found the sensation curious as well as sexy and, of course, painful. I was amazing myself again. I was amazed at how getting spanked could feel so good while hurting so bad.

*Smack* "Three, Sir!" I shouted.

"You know why you're getting punished, yes?" He asked just as the fourth *Smack* resounded through the room.

"Four, Sir! Yes, Sir! I used the bathroom without permission, Sir!" *Smack!* "Five, Sir! Sorry, Sir!"

"I know a thing or two about how women work, and from where I'm standing, I think I might have a discipline problem with you." *Smack!*

"Six, Sir! What do you mean, Sir?!" I had to consciously stop myself from putting my hands in the way, by that last smack. The stinging was lasting longer with each smack, the heat intensifying. *Smack!* "Seven, Sir!"

"Mentally, you possibly feel bad for doing something without permission..." *Smack!*

"Eight, Sir!"

"But your body is betraying you..." *Smack!*

"Nine, Sir!"

"I'll show you what I mean when we get to fifteen, pet." *Smack!*

"Ten, Sir!" My arms were shaking as I tried to keep my weight up. I was putting more weight on my arms, since I was unconsciously trying to move away from the spanking. My conscious efforts... I wasn't really sure, any more. I was just trying to stay up, trying to last through to fifteen, wondering if the pain would be worth it, if I was okay with what was happening. *Smack!*

"G... Aahh! Eleven, Sir!" My arms were wobbling severely, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. *Smack!*

"Twelve, Sirft!" I said, as my arms began giving way, and I simply tried to control my fall. I landed on my elbows and my right knee, my left leg being stuck between John's legs. *Smack!*

"Thirteen, Sir!" and the tears began rolling down my cheeks. He wasn't holding back! He was really walloping my ass! The stinging only faded slightly by the next smack each time, and the burning seemingly making each sting worse. *Smack!*

"Fourteen, Sir!" Though I was crying and the pain was worse than I could have expected, I was excited that it was almost over. It was just another challenge, and I could feel my feminine parts almost dripping. God was I ever ignorant of my strange nature until then! *Smack!*

"Fifteen, Sir!" I shouted. I was stunned, unsure what to do next, unsure if I could anyway, and, before I could even consider it, I felt John move. His hand was pressing down on the small of my back, pushing down until I was on my knees. His other hand was suddenly on my crotch, rubbing my clit lightly, but pressing a bit harder with each... each what? Cycle of his rhythm, I guess.

It felt GREAT! The sting on my ass cheeks was slowly fading, but the warmth, the near burning sensation, remained. My arms gave way and my face found the floor. I opened my mouth wide with my moaning, and I could feel something fantastic well up from deep inside of me. I started convulsing as I had the best orgasm of my life. I shook on the ground, unable to hold myself up, unable to get away from John, unwilling to if I could. The burning of my ass, even, felt good.

When the waves of pleasure passed, I was weak, unable to react. I was partially laying on the ground, my ass up in the air, my womanhood exposed, just reveling in the afterglow. "... Sir..."

"Yes, pet?" John said, the noise coming from the hight of his standing form, I think. I pulled myself back, sat on my knees, and started trying to stand. "No, pet, it's okay. Rest for a moment."

"Sir..." I said again, not sure what I wanted to say. Did I want to thank him? The spanking seemed like more than I was willing to agree to, but then that orgasm. It was almost magical. The ambivalence, the contradiction in emotions and sensations. I guess, ultimately, I was confused. Would I be willing to go through that much pain for those awesome orgasms? Was the pain really that bad? I mean, at the time, it seemed horrible, but afterwards it was just a warm, slightly sore butt.

I rested, sitting on my knees for a few moments. John was standing in front of me, and finally he said "Okay, I know you're type. You need TLC. Don't worry about my rules right now, just come, sit with me."

I looked at him, and he was offering me his hand. I took it and he helped me up. I followed him to his chair. He sat in it, and he softly pulled me into his lap. He pulled me into his chest, and I wrapped my arms around him. Sitting kind of hurt, but I didn't care. I guess he was right. That closeness... I needed that. I needed to cuddle. I pulled myself into him and sort of... I don't know. I melted, I guess. He kissed my forehead. After a few minutes, he asked "What did you think?"

"Sir..." He cut me off.

"I said don't worry about my rules. You don't need to call me 'Sir', right now." he whispered.

"It would feel... wrong, Sir."

"I can't claim I don't like that reply, pet." He whispered, smiling. That made me smile. "Now, what were you thinking?"

"Sir... I'm not sure. I was thinking how it hurt. I wasn't sure if I could handle it, Sir. I thought, if you kept doing that, or if you do it a lot, I would have to leave you." We were both speaking softly.

"You know you can avoid it if you dislike it. Simply follow my rules. Either way, I didn't plan on spanking you that hard, but then I noticed you juicing up. I knew you were getting turned on."

"I was, Sir, but I didn't realize it. Not consciously. My feelings... they're different from my thoughts, Sir. I... I don't know myself anymore. Sir... I... I liked it, Sir. I mean, it hurt. I didn't like the pain, but I liked... it. I... I don't know what I'm trying to say, Sir."

"That's okay, pet" He said, kissing my forehead one more time. "If you find the time during this next week, I want you to write down your thoughts and feelings about everything that happened today. You don't have to do this, but I think it will help you sort through your feelings, and it will help me know what you're thinking. I'm in charge, but that doesn't make me a mind reader. I don't want to push you faster than you're willing to go, pet."

"Thank you, Sir, I lo..." I froze up. I almost told him I loved him! Did I? Was it just the euphoria of the orgasm? What was happening to me?! "Sir, do we have work to be doing, Sir?"

He caught that I had stiffened, and I think he knew what I was about to say. I was scared of my own emotional state. "Pet, we have work to do, but it can wait until you're ready."

"Thank you, Sir." I said "I think I'm ready to do more work. Thank you, Sir."

He kissed me on the lips before letting me stand, and I kissed back. It was a tender, caring kiss. It made me very worried that I was allowing myself to get too caught up too fast. Well, actually, what I said earlier had me worried. I liked the kiss, it just made me worry about it.

Feelings

I stood at my submissive, spread-leg position, and said "What would you like me to do now, Sir?" The air was cooling off my very moist vulva quickly, due to how wet it was, but the heat of my rear continued radiating. I was standing in front of John, exposed again, fully nude, near the window, and someone could walk in at any moment. I didn't think of that before. The speaker gave someone permission, but someone might still barge in with important news or in case of an emergency, or something.

"I'm about to print some things off. Take them from the printer and file them. Also, grab a TC 109-87 sheet. Ten, actually. Once you have them, let me know and I'll give you further instructions."

"Yes, Sir." I said, as I looked around for the printer. The only printer I saw was on my desk, so I also asked "Sir, may I go to my desk and sit?"

"Go to your desk. I'll consider the sitting down in a minute." Said John, smiling. I couldn't help but smile back before turning to go. I knew he was watching me walk away. He had his eyes on my ass, which I was sure was red. I could feel it's altered color. It still stung slightly, but mostly it was just very warm. It kind of... it made me think it would draw attention, and it made me feel kind of special. I bent over to pick up my shirt on the way back to my desk, figuring I shouldn't leave it in the middle of the floor. I reconsidered mid-bend-over.

I stood upright, turned, and got in position. "Sir?"

"Yes?" said John as he looked from his computer screen to me. I noticed and remembered my skirt on this side of his desk as I looked.

"May I pick up my clothes, Sir?"

"Yes. Remember, though, fold them, and find a good place for them."

He switched between watching his computer screen and watching me as I walked to his desk to pick up my skirt, then back to my blouse to pick it up. I folded them when I got to my desk, and I placed them on top of the filing cabinet, to clear off my working station. I placed my bra and panties on top of them, as well. It was obvious he didn't want me to get dressed, and I found my strange appeal in that, in lacking the option, in being exposed to him. I was still wet from earlier. I had never been aroused for such a long portion of the day non-stop, before.

The printer had already started printing by the time I even got to my desk, so once I was done with my clothes, I began organizing the papers and stapling what needed stapled and putting them where they go. When I had the filing cabinet opened and was about to look for the worksheet he told me to get a copy of, I realized I forgot what worksheet he said. I turned around, got in position, and said "Sir?"

At the same time I spoke, though, there was a beep on his speaker. I froze, a chill going up my spine. I was totally nude, in position. If he let someone come in, they'd definitely see me like that! He told me when I agreed to this job that people would probably see my privates. I was worried that was it. I got a cold feeling in my chest, as I got that anxious looseness in my abdomen and privates. John pressed his button and said "Yes?"

"It's Bill and Jake with your armoire." Came a voice from the speaker.

John looked at me, pointed at my chair, and said "Put on your shirt and sit." It was a little comforting knowing he was allowing me to cover myself, to put on the appearance of being fully dressed, but he didn't say anything about my skirt or underwear. I didn't assume I could move them from on top of the cabinet, but without moving them, they'd be obvious! Still, I didn't hesitate to get my shirt from the small pile of clothes, keeping the pile looking neat after grabbing it, and putting it on. As I was buttoning up my blouse, or down, rather, as I started from the top, John pressed the button and said "Bring it in."

A moment after John said that, the knob on his office door turned. I jumped over to my chair, sat down in it, and furiously worked the buttons of my shirt. I got the top four buttons done by the time the door was open and I saw a man walk in. The same man I talked to downstairs. I moved my hands from my buttons and started looking through the papers on my desk, so he didn't realize I was just buttoning up my blouse. I hoped neither of the men who had come up would get too close to my desk and glance down, because they'd see my shirt hanging to either side of my waist. My desk would probably block off the good bits, but it wouldn't block off enough to keep them in the dark about me not having my skirt on.

And I remembered the fact my skirt was behind me, above my head, with my bra and panties laying it. They'd see that for sure. I pulled the sides of my shirt to lay on my lap as the man I assumed was Bill said, "Where to you want 'er, boss?"

"Just put it in that corner, facing my assistant's desk, there." said John, pointing at the corner opposite the one my working station was in, on the other side of the door. The man pulled the door all the way open and held it there. It happened to open towards my desk, and Bill got even closer to me. I scooted my chair in and held some papers up. I tried to put them in his line of sight to the top of my hips, which my blouse didn't quite cover, but I was pretty sure I failed. Fortunately, he was looking the other way.

Soon, a wooden, heavy and expensive looking armoire at a 45 degree angle rolled into the room, on a dolly pushed by a younger, stronger looking man. Bill pointed, and the younger one turned the dolly to pull the armoire to the corner. Bill came behind it, and he held the top to make lowering it into place easier. The men seemed mostly distracted by what they were doing. I guess they didn't notice the clothes behind me yet. Fortunately.

It gave me some time to consider how rough the fibers of the seat for my chair could be on a raw, freshly spanked butt. It wasn't so much that the fibers of the chair seat actually hurt my butt, it was more like it simply irritated the raw skin. I'd hate to think what it felt like if I were hot and sweaty. It was certainly not designed for a naked butt to sit on in the first place. Maybe that's why John didn't give me permission to sit, he was somehow aware of how irritating I'd find it. Which made me question his reasons for having that chair.

I looked at him, and he was looking at me, but it didn't seem like he was gloating over tricking me into sitting on the irritating surface. Hell, it was probably irritating my skin more because I was thinking about it than because it was actually irritating. I made a decision. I had to ask John if I could replace my chair. Not that I planned on doing things wrong and getting spanked any more, but just in case. Who was I kidding, I wanted to get spanked again. I thought. Maybe. I still had to think about the events of the day in my quiet time later, or talk about it with a friend.

In my frustration at realizing I liked the spanking and being unable to do anything about my raw butt, I sighed and face-palmed. Not loudly, but much louder than I meant to. The armoire was in place, and the two men looked at me. Bill said, "You alright, ma'am?"

I looked up at him, realizing how stupid I was for bringing attention to myself. Both men seemed to look past me for a moment. Right past my head. Where the rest of my clothes were. That was my fault. I earned the embarrassment, but it was possible they hadn't put anything together, yet. I managed to stutter out "N-n-no. I mean... Yes, I'm fine. Sorry. Just this... Um..."

This what?! I could have gotten away with a simple yes, but I had to go and try to explain myself! I would be forced to finish it. Was I about to tell them about the uncomfortable chair? I was making a scene! I tried being unspecific and dismissive "Sorry, it's nothing."

I hoped it worked. I was scared I was looking at them in a way that wouldn't suggest innocence. I had no idea what they might accuse me of, or to what degree. Could I get John in trouble if they found me there like that, pants-less?! Oh no! But no, they couldn't. He told me some coworkers might see my privates. Did he mean specific ones?

Just then, Bill said "Alright. Have a good day ma'am" and he looked to John "Sir."

Both men left the room, Jake with the dolly. As the door shut, I heard John say "What were you doing?!"

I was initially very scared. Why would he ask that in such a tone if I weren't in trouble? When I looked, though, he had a giant grin on his face. He looked like he was just told a joke. I stood, got into position, and I stammered out "W-what, Sir? I mean... I didn't mean... Sorry, Sir." and I lowered my head shamefully.

"What have I told you about apologizing without meaning it?" He chided with a grin.

"To not to, Sir." I said. It was odd, I almost apologized for apologizing. I had to bite my lip.

"You're too cute. I'm afraid the fifth rule is an improvisation, and we'll have to push back the rest. You're no longer allowed to apologize to me. At all."

"Sir, but what if I do something wrong and feel really bad for it?!" I said, feeling guilty for his having to make the rule. I knew I'd do something that made me feel guilty, and I wouldn't be allowed to voice being sorry, and it'd drive me up a wall!

"Then simply be sorry. I'd rather you be sorry than simply say some words at me by habit."

"Oh. I see, Sir. I never thought of it like that." John had such insight. I mean, I know he couldn't read my mind, but he was... well, wise! Maybe I had rose tinted glasses, but it was just a tint. What he said actually made sense. "Sir?"

"Yes, pet?"

"Well, two things, really, Sir. Is that okay?"

"Haha, of course." He said. I wondered why he seemed like he was in such a good mood. Not that I minded! I liked it!

"Sir, first, I, uh... well, I think you're smart, Sir. I... Sir, I just... wanted to say that."

"Thank you, pet. Thank you very much. That's probably the single best compliment you could ever give me. What's the second thing?"

"Sir... if I get my own chair, can I please replace the one at my desk with it?"

He smiled widely "Is that why you were looking so frustrated over there? That chair irritated your sore bottom?"

"Yes, Sir." I nodded.

"Sure, so long as it doesn't clash with the rest of the office." said John, waving his hand at the mass of the room.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Oh, and pet?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"That's your armoire. It's for the clothes you're not wearing. In addition, you can store whatever you want in it otherwise, so long as you take anything in there home with you when you leave. Except sex toys. You can bring in sex toys, if you want, and you can put them in there, and keep them in there."

"Yes, Sir." I said "Would you like me to put my clothes in there now, Sir?"

"Yes, pet, including your shirt."

"Yes, Sir." I said, as I started unbuttoning my shirt. It still felt weird walking around the office totally nude, everything exposed to John, even though I liked that he looked. It felt strange having a warm, red bum to draw attention, and my womanhood never stopped moistening itself. After I got my clothes put away we got to work. He would occasionally tell me to file something, or email something, or fax something, or whatever. I guess that's why the printer was on my desk. I was the one who had to deal with all the papers!

I didn't sit down once after that, though my feet started getting sore from not being used to standing in those shoes for so long. I was beginning to habituate myself to standing in that position and asking permission before doing things. I was actually quite proud of myself for getting acclimated so quickly.

We were only interrupted by phone calls from then on until about 4:00. I was conscious of my nudity and hoped John would take my virginity the whole time, but I was so busy anyway that the time flew by. I wasn't really sure what the business did, exactly. It seemed like John worked as a financial councilor, insurance manager, and a copywriter, among other things. I wondered what the business actually did, or if it was a multi-functioning thing, or even if it was multiple businesses all in one. That last one seemed a good guess. He must own a lot of different businesses, I figured. I didn't feel it was my place to ask, for some reason. I was only there to help, in many ways, not to pretend to understand his job for him.

Anyway, at 4:00, John called me over to file one last folder he had on his desk. Once it was put away, he called me back over to his desk. I stood in front of him at his desk, wondering what he had for me next. Every time I was called over to his desk, I hoped it was something sexy and adventurous and challenging and inexplicably enjoyable, but I only expected more actual work to do. That time, it was the prior. "Pet, you're a virgin. Why?"

His question was sudden, and it made me aware of my nudity all over again, being accompanied by the relaxed nervousness of my abdomen and female parts. "Well, Sir... uh... I... Sir... well I... Sir, I haven't had sex."

John laughed. I was glad. I was scared I was going to get into trouble for being a smart mouth, or something. He replied "Yeah, I kinda figured that. What led to that, though? Have you ever tried or wanted to lose your virginity? Were you saving it for marriage, or what?"

"Um... Sir, I just... I never liked anyone enough, Sir. Well, Except my ex boyfriend."

"You wanted to with him? How did it not happen?"

"I guess I'm not terribly attractive, Sir." His question got me to thinking about it, too. I couldn't really explain why that boy wouldn't have sex with me. He outright refused to. I became all to aware of the over-curviness of my hips, my hair being probably all out of place by then, my make-up definitely smeared, my millions of freckles, my saggy tits, the size of my nose. I... well, I remembered that, even though John made me feel attractive, I remembered that I wasn't really anything to look at. I suddenly wanted to cover myself up. Being so exposed wasn't sexy, anymore.

John didn't say anything immediately. He got a peculiar look on his face. Like he was confused. I bet he thought it was obvious I was unattractive, and he wanted an answer that wasn't so obvious. Finally, though, he seemed much milder. He was no longer in such a jovial mood. Because he saw it, too. He saw that I wasn't pretty, and he was considering his choice in me all over again.

He finally spoke "You really believe that?"

"Sir, do you want me to put my clothes back on?"

"No. You really think that, don't you?"

"Of course, Sir. I mean... look at me, Sir. I appreciate that you can look past it, but I'm not going to pretend I'm some beautiful swan."

"but you are." John said as he stood from his chair. He continued as he walked slowly around his desk, approaching me. "Yes, I'm attracted to you for your personality and your brain. You're a smart, witty, charming woman, but you're also beautiful. I don't know what flaws you might see when you look into the mirror, but I haven't managed to find any of them. I'm sincerely baffled how you could think something like that."

With that last step, John was immediately in front of me. He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me in to a deep kiss. "And you're so sweet, and caring. You're so organized, too. I saw you get that desk ready to go in less than two hours this morning! My last assistant was a mess. That's why he got fired!"

"He?!" I couldn't help but exclaim.

"Assistants can be guys too, pet." John chuckled.

"I know, Sir, I just... I expected... I'm sor..." I went wide eyed, wondering if I said enough to get into trouble. I just stood there, in his arms, watching for his reaction.

"You're what?" He asked, looking sly.

"Oh no, Sir! How do I apologize for almost apologizing?!"

He chuckled again. "You see what I mean about you being cute and caring? I suppose I can't just let it slide, though, can I?"

"I think you could, Sir, if you put your mind to it!" It was strange how my mood shifted so swiftly. Yes, I was being extra emotional that day, but it was enough that even I noticed! I guess it was John reassuring me that he found me attractive. Frankly, I didn't care if anyone else did. He's the one who's opinion mattered on the subject.

"I think you're trying to use your cuteness to your advantage, and I don't think that's fighting fair, pet." He moved me away from him slightly. I hadn't even noticed that my arms wrapped around him until I had to move them back behind me. He stood there just looking at me for a moment. I wondered what he was thinking. I let the idea of him taking my virginity cross my mind, but he said I was going to have to work for it. I was already wet, just like all the rest of the day, so it's not like it'd be difficult for him!

"I guess a little light bondage wouldn't hurt on your first day." John stated, as though making up his mind on some matter of business. He had told me much about BDSM, and told me he loved the bondage part best. He said a woman willing to do whatever you say is one thing, but if she were willing to get quite literally helpless via getting tied up, it showed a kind of trust he couldn't resist. The way he described it over our emails made me very interested in whatever it was he just made up his mind to do.

"Stay just like this, pet. You don't even have permission to speak, for now. Understood?" I opened my mouth to reply, but caught myself before actually making noise. I gave John a face that I thought conveyed 'oopsy', with a partially rounded mouth and puppy-dog eyes, and then nodded.

He walked around his desk and got into the same drawer that previously contained those clothespins he used on me earlier... which were now in my desk. He got out some blue rope and held it up in a bundle with the end pulled tautly with his other hand and announced "Silk. You'll find it mildly uncomfortable, yet there's no need to worry about rope burns. Also, it's stylish."

In our emails, he mentioned a few things involving bondage, like 'harness', 'breast bondage', 'crotch rope', and more. I like to think I had a decent idea what those things would be, but I was still intensely curious what he was about to do with me. How uncomfortable? How long? How helpless? What would he do to me while I was tied up? He must have told me not to speak because he knew I'd have millions of questions!

He came back around his desk, finishing the circuit, and he stood behind me. I couldn't look directly, but it seemed like he was unwinding the rope. Soon, I felt the rope on the back of my neck, as he pulled it around, and under my arm-pits. He pulled each end back around and under my arms again, then under my breasts, back around, and then over my breasts.

I had to cut myself off at least three times as I wanted to ask him a question. Either I didn't realize how much I talked until I couldn't, or I wanted to talk more because I couldn't. As I pondered that, he was wrapping the rope back over my shoulders, and around both pieces in my front, above and below my breasts. He pulled it tightly, and the ropes above and below my breasts came together to sort of mash the base of my breasts, capturing them in an uncomfortable grip.

He pulled that back around the back, and he spent some time wrapping the rope strategically around parts of my arms. I couldn't see, and it seemed like a lot of rope, so I couldn't say exactly what he was doing, but it took a few minutes. Finally, he walked to my front and said, "A simple harness for now. Easy to make, just a few square knots here or there, but you'll find your arms aren't going anywhere and you may get a bit less circulation in your tits. Either way, you're not that much more helpless."

As he was telling me about the rope-work just then, I tested it slightly. I could move my hands off of my elbows, but besides that my arms were totally stuck being crossed behind me that way. It was true, I was more helpless, and it made me hope he was going to do a few more things to me before the end of the work day!

Oh, what if someone had to come in? Would he put a shirt on over me? Would they wonder why my arms weren't in the sleeves and why rope could be seen over and in my cleavage?! Geese, I almost wanted that! Without my skirt or underwear again, to add to their interest?! Sitting on that chair, which is uncomfortable to a spanked bottom! Oh God, what kind of deviant side of me did this man wake up?! I would be scared stiff if that happened, but the thought of the possibility made me hope John was about to play with my clit until I came, again!

Then, John produced two clothespins. He held them up to my breasts and said "Now don't you move, pet."

"Oh, Go..." I clamped my mouth shut, but that word and a half had already gotten out! I swung my head up to look John in the eyes and began "I'm so sorr...!" I clamped my mouth shut again. I'm not sure what my expression was at the time. I was scared. I made my mistake, but I was also a little excited about it. I also felt really bad, though, because I just disobeyed two commands simultaneously! The tension was too great, and an almost, but not quite, "squeal" escaped my mouth.

I did something wrong, but I couldn't apologize, and I knew it was wrong, and my desire to apologize for breaking the rule did nothing but grow with the inability to actually apologize. It was like some cycle that did nothing but continually make me stress over my actions. I tried to beam my thoughts of being so very sorry into his head, knowing it wouldn't work, but maybe he'd know how sorry I was anyway.

As I worried about that, I held my body tensely still as John placed both clothespins on their respective nipple, relaxing the springs slowly. My first reaction was to pull away, but I knew that would just get me deeper in trouble. They pinched harder than when my bra was on, and I et another squeal escape my lips as I looked down at my roped up, clothes-pinned breasts. It was strangely appealing, like they were John's captives, helpless against his punishment, except I could feel their pain, too. It also had a strange aesthetic appeal. I can't explain it, but it looked good. The rush of feeling guilty and the pain, with being helpless against it, made me have the familiar horny relaxed feeling, and I almost thought I was going to pee.

I really had to, this time! I didn't pee, but I had to! What a disaster! I'd have to ask permission, but I couldn't talk! Once I got permission, I'd have to hurry up and get dressed! Would I be able to hold it? Would I be given permission? Would I even be untied or allowed to wear clothes?!

"Those were only going to be on for five minutes, but then you spoke, and then you spoke again, apologizing! If I didn't know any better" John chided "I'd say you wanted to get punished."

It was unbearable that I realized that I did want to get punished. To reasonable degree, that is! And not because I disobeyed him! I wanted him to be happy, to be pleased with me! I didn't want to be bad! Maybe my guilt helped fuel my enjoyment of getting punished? Either way, I think John expected some sort of answer, because he started his speech again "Well, if you do want it, you're in luck, because you'll get it. Five extra minutes for talking, so ten extra minutes, and for apologizing you have to stand in the corner with your nose to the wall. Over there, go."

I walked over to the corner John pointed at and faced it. Immediately I realized I had a problem. There was no way for my nose to touch the wall without pushing the clothespins against the wall also. Slowly, I touched the wall with them, and then continued to slowly slide closer. It twisted my nipples painfully as the clothespin slid along the wall and pushed in at an angle, but that's why I went slowly. So I could handle it. Soon, I was close enough to bend my neck forward and touch the wall with my nose.

I wasn't comfortable at all! My neck was already cricking, my nipples throbbed with each beat of my heart, and my legs were getting stiff from holding such a delicate position. My shoulders were getting sore and I think my arms weren't getting quite enough blood. And to top that all off, giving me fifteen minutes like that to think about what I did wrong gave me time to think about having to go pee. GOD did I have to go pee after what I thought was only about five minutes!

It got so bad that I had to move my knees in a sort of 'pee-pee dance' to avoid peeing right there in the corner. Soon, though, it got pretty unbearable. I wondered if I'd have to go so bad if it wasn't the focus of my attention, but either way I wouldn't be able to last another ten minutes, I knew. I had to ask "Sir, I'll take whatever punishment for talking, I'll stand here all night, but I had to disobey you to ask if I could go pee, because I don't want to get in trouble for peeing on your carpet and wall, Sir! Please, Sir, may I please go pee, Sir?!"

John was at his desk, and he asked "You have to go that badly, huh?"

"Yes, Sir! Please, Sir!" I was surprised I managed to keep myself from apologizing. I wanted to apologize so much for disobeying him! I did it on purpose, even! no way he would be happy about it, but I had to go pee worse than I think I ever had before!

I heard him stand and walk over to me. He did something to the rope behind me, which jostled me slightly and I grunted as the clothespins moved against the wall suddenly. After what seemed like several minutes but was probably closer to ten or twenty seconds, I felt my arms suddenly free. Not all the way, but I could pull them from the ropes. I didn't, since I didn't have permission to move, yet, but they were technically free. Still, I was moving my legs in that avoiding to pee way that everyone knows, which didn't help my nipples out at all.

Then, John reached around me and un-clamped the clothespins from my nipples. I gasped as the blood came back to them. It was worse than the first time, just like I expected, and as I closed my eyes from that, taking a deep breath in, John said "Go get your shirt and skirt on and go to the bathroom. Come right back!"

I wanted to thank John, but he didn't say anything about talking, yet. I didn't want to waste any time trying to convey the message, though, because I didn't want to mess up the carpet or anything else. I would have ran to the armoire, but that would have made me pee, so I took the biggest steps I could and opened it. I threw my shirt on, then my skirt, and I buttoned it on my way to the door. I buttoned my blouse in front of the door, dancing to ward off peeing prematurely. I didn't even care that there was still rope around my chest, altering the general shape of my breasts. I didn't care if anyone noticed, I had to get to that bathroom! Well, I cared, but I had my priorities.

As soon as my clothes were on well enough, I opened the door and trotted quickly down the hall. I knew people noticed the blue rope underneath my semi-transparent blouse, and in my not covered at all top cleavage, and my nipples were probably very brightly red and hard, but I finally got to the bathroom. I charged the only of the three stall doors that were not closed, pulled my skirt up, sat, and relieved myself. I was so glad that I managed to make it to the toilet I almost cried.

Then I did start crying a little, because I realized I didn't finish my punishment properly and John would be upset. He would think I was a bad slave. I sure felt like one. I couldn't just stand in the corner for ten more minutes?! I knew I couldn't, but a slave with more practice probably could have, and I felt terrible for being so inexperienced. John shouldn't have to be so patient with me. I sucked at this.

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