Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

J oseph

I watched approvingly as my team dutifully lowered their flies and took out their erect penises, a welcome testament to my new secretary's attractions. Kevin did indeed have a truly massive member, long and thick. Martin's had length but not nearly as much girth, while Louis' massive thickness, I knew, always provided the girls he fucked with a good deal of satisfaction.

Ingrid shook her head. From behind her, I couldn't see her face, but I had already grown so familiar with her lovely features, and with the conflict inside her at the idea of submitting to me, that I could see her troubled eyes in my imagination.

On the faces of my team I saw exactly the sort of appreciation, as well as the kind of naked lust I had come to expect and value from them, when it came to helping their boss train a new secretary. To my surprise, though, I found a strain of additional emotion rising in my chest. I felt an urge to protect Ingrid Vogel and to care for her through this ordeal that I hadn't felt for other secretaries I'd trained.

I had of course protected and cared for my previous office girls—that went without saying for an educated man and a skilled dominant. That hadn't felt like this , though; like I had to get my mastery of Ingrid exactly right. Like ensuring that this lovely game of dominance and submission becomes something we both would treasure.

I looked her up and down, from behind my desk. Her arms-raised posture put an attractive arch in her naked back. The purple bruises on her bottom and upper thighs made my cock leap against my thigh.

I saw her face in my mind's eye, her eyes bright with unshed tears. I felt so certain of my intuition, of my connection to Ingrid, that I had to ask.

"Is she crying?" I asked, forcing coolness into my tone.

"Sure is," Martin answered. "Are you going to paddle her?"

I stood up and reached into the inside breast pocket of my jacket. The compliance wand's sleek surface met my touch, and I pulled it out.

"No," I told Martin. "I don't want this to take too long. We've got work to do on the Questgate proposal. Ingrid, I'll make this a little easier for you."

I walked slowly toward Ingrid, my steps deliberate and measured, conveying authority and, I hoped, perhaps some tenderness. Her tense body language betrayed her struggle as she tried, I felt certain, to reconcile her upbringing and her independence with her growing desires.

Watching her react to my approach made me feel it even more acutely; my job as her boss didn't just involve teaching her the mechanics of Selecta's special brand of office dominance. It also demanded that I guide her toward acceptance and exploration.

As I approached her, I could see a bead of what must be cold sweat trickling down the back of her neck, a testament to the intensity of her inner turmoil. Very gently I touched the wand right there, at the back of her neck, and I watched her shudder in response.

"Do as you're told, Ingrid," I commanded, my voice gentle because I knew the effect of the wand would allow no defiance. "Kneel down and kiss their cocks."

Ingrid

The strangest thing about the way the wand worked had to be that it didn't take away the hot shame I felt as I instantly began to sink to my knees in the soft pile of the carpet. In fact, it seemed to intensify my mortification. Looking into the eyes of Kevin, Martin, and Louis, I could see that they knew how the terrible device worked; they knew that I wouldn't be obeying Joseph's order unless I actually did want to get onto my knees. Unless I actually were aflame, between my naked thighs, inside my bare pussy, to kiss the rigid penises jutting from their trousers, brandished in their hands in compliance with Joseph's instructions.

A very different kind of obedience from mine, I thought, pushing down a sob.

"Eyes down, Ingrid," Joseph commanded. "Show these men the proper respect. Gentlemen, why don't you proceed in alphabetical order, for fairness' sake. Kevin, that makes you first."

I had watched Kevin's eyes widen as my knees hit the floor. I had seen his own gaze dart between my face and my smooth, bare pussy.

I had worked with men like him at my previous jobs: brash, smart guys who seemed to have a basically good-hearted nature but didn't find that incompatible with the frat-boy style mannerisms that had gotten them through college and business school.

I had never thought, as I laughed at their jokes despite how inappropriate they could sometimes get, that I'd be on my knees in front of one of them, like this, with his enormous penis on full display—and my eyes forbidden from looking away from its rigid length.

Kevin stepped forward with two long, confident strides, his polished black shoes silent on the carpet.

As he approached, I tried to succumb to the natural urge to shy away from his towering presence and the approach of his enormous member. His cologne, sweet and masculine, reached my nose and made my heart race. I could feel my hands trembling, now in little fists at my sides. The wand's effect still held me firmly in its thrall. I felt my naked breasts heave as I took shallow breaths, trying to calm my nerves.

"Go ahead and give her the command again," Joseph said, from much closer behind me than I had thought he was. My eyes widened as I understood that he must have risen from his chair and come around his desk himself. My heart quailed as I pictured him there, gazing down at my naked, kneeling body. I felt his eyes on the marks his paddle had made, the signs of his mastery and his ownership. "I want her to get used to responding to your authority."

I heard a little whimper escape my nose, a tiny kitten sound that only reinforced my utter helplessness.

"Kiss it," Kevin commanded, his voice a sharp blade that I could imagine reflected the ambition that had carved his path through the ranks of Selecta Corporation.

For a fleeting moment, I once again believed I could resist—an illusion shattered as swiftly as it formed. My body seemed to detach from my will, and I watched as if from afar, an out-of-body specter witnessing my own submission. My head dipped forward, and with a deep sob I obeyed. The warm, swollen flesh of Kevin's massive arousal pressed against my mouth, a stark reminder of the power he wielded.

"Good girl," he murmured as he retreated, the words laced with approval and condescension.

My mind spun, a vortex of shame and forbidden exhilaration. The emotions in my mind and body seemed like a tempest, into which Louis seemed to step, when he moved forward to take Kevin's place. Something about the way his shoes moved—less decisive than Kevin's—made me think of his presence as a little sheepish, or perhaps merely meant to seem that way. His hardness seemed enormous in its own way; not as long as Kevin's or Joseph's, but so thick in his left hand that it made my heart jump.

"My turn," he said. I felt as if I could hear, even without seeing Louis' face, that a certain timidity in his character had been lost to a haze of desire. "I'd like you to ask for it, you little slut."

Desire for me. For my body… the body Joseph owns, and can share as he chooses.

His words drew another sob from my throat. I pictured Louis' eyes, hazel and hungry, locked onto my own restrained gaze as the internal war raged within me. He could see my troubled face, and I could only see his massive penis, menacing me and demanding my service.

The chaste upbringing that had sculpted my every moral fiber clashed violently against the raw, primal urges that Joseph had awakened, and had provided here to his junior executives as a casual favor. My body, traitorous in its yearning, responded with a heat that seared through my veins.

"Please," I whispered, not entirely sure if I was begging for reprieve or imploring him to close the distance.

I caught a musky scent—not heavy, not the overwhelming sensation of yesterday, when Joseph had made me taste myself on his own huge manhood, but definitely present and definitely, terribly masculine. I breathed more deeply, unable to help myself, and caught more of a heady mixture of sweat and desire.

Joseph's presence behind me, his watchful eyes in my imagination burning like twin beacons of authority, seemed to caress the nape of my neck. His silence commanded me, a stark contrast to the pulsating heartbeat that thundered in my ears.

"Kiss it," Louis urged, his voice a low growl that resonated with expectation.

"Take Louis in your mouth, sweetheart, and show him how good a cocksucker you already are," Joseph suddenly commanded. "He did a very good job on the Growfast proposal last week."

My eyes went very wide, but down below, to my horror, my hips jerked with arousal. I closed my eyes for a brief moment. Suddenly I wanted to surrender to the inevitable. At last, I felt a mortifying gratitude for the help of the wand. My lips parted, and I whimpered as they brushed against the smooth skin of Louis's massive penis.

The taste, tangy and distinct, filled my mouth, erasing any remnants of resistance. Joseph's directive seemed to guide me, each movement choreographed by his dominating will.

My tongue danced timidly at first, gliding along the vein that throbbed beneath the surface. With every flick and swirl, my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving only the overwhelming reality of my submission. The office sounds faded into the background, replaced by the lewd wet noises that escaped from my terribly full mouth.

"Ah, yes… Just like that," Louis muttered, a shudder running through his frame.

"That's enough," Joseph said abruptly. I frowned slightly as Louis hastened to withdraw his thick shaft from my mouth even as I obeyed reflexively myself, pulling my head back. Had I heard something in Joseph's voice that might be called jealousy?

Martin stepped forward, his shoes moving in what seemed like an easy saunter. His erection jutted so far from his fly that my jaw went slack, his green eyes gleaming with anticipation. His stocky frame moved with an assertive grace that belied his brutish nature, and his red hair seemed ablaze in the dim light. With each step he took, my resistance melted away, replaced by a fluid obedience that startled me with its ease.

"Kiss it, you little whore," he murmured, his voice rough like gravel. "I guess I don't get a reward like Lou, but at least I get to feel those pretty lips on this fuck stick."

My mouth had fallen open at my first sight of the length of his manhood. At these brutal words I began to pant. Obeying, thanks to the wand… thanks to Joseph's commands… thanks to Martin's filthy comments… thanks to my own helpless need… I closed my lips. My breath came in labored little puffs through my nose.

I leaned toward him, greeting him with an eagerness that—despite the burning blush that stayed in my face—I wasn't feigning any longer. His scent filled my nostrils, earthy and rich, and as I got a fleeting taste of him, I surrendered to the detachment that had begun to claim me. It was a state of distant observation, a cocoon of numbness that shielded me from the shame of my actions.

And I felt Joseph watching, always watching, his blue eyes unblinking and omnipresent. His silence struck me louder than any words. With every new act of compliance, I became less of Ingrid Vogel, the independent naive professional striving to prove herself, and more of what I felt sure my new boss, my new master, envisioned: a vessel for desire, an instrument of pleasure honed by the hand of the man who wielded the paddle and the wand.

He spoke as I withdrew my head, my eyes still fixed only on Martin's long, red cock.

"Remember what awaits you, gentlemen." Joseph's tone was even, calm—a direct contrast to the lewd scene he had orchestrated. "Hit in your targets, and you'll get a share of the pleasure to be had in my executive fuck toy's sweet little holes."