And That's the Rub Ch. 03

Chapter 3 -- Going Deep

Marsha slept until nearly 9:00 that Sunday morning. Even then she didn't immediately vacate the bed, choosing instead to lie there reliving the events of the previous day.

She finally rolled out of bed around 10:00 AM and, without bothering to cover her naked body, headed for the front foyer to recover her robe, nightgown and panties. She returned to the bedroom where she slipped on a clean pair of panties before slipping on the bathrobe. Finally, she headed for the kitchen and a cup of strong, hot coffee.

She spent the day futzing around the house doing laundry, dusting, vacuuming and any other tidbits she could find to keep her mind occupied. But however she tried, she was unable to keep her mind off Jason Edwards and the way he'd turned her life completely upside down in less than 24 hours.

Before Saturday afternoon's episode at the office or their later midnight encounter, Marsha Dunn's sex life had been pretty routine, even bordering on boring. That wasn't through lack of opportunities, however. At 5'8" with an attractive, shapely figure, she'd always attracted her share of interest from guys. Unfortunately, none of her prospective suitors were ever able to elicit a similar interest from her.

In college, life had been okay, but not great. She'd had a boyfriend or two and managed to attend a few parties, but she never got into that scene like the other girls did. Instead, she'd allowed her studies to be the focus of her world.

Once she graduated from college she'd become too busy with her career to allow much more than an occasional man to pass through her life -- or her bedroom. All in all, hers was a life that was seriously lacking in danger and excitement.

It was, that is, until yesterday, when Jason Edwards -- an employee of hers a dozen years younger than her 35 years -- turned her world upside down. Suddenly all she could think about was sex. And it wasn't the normal, ordinary, mildly arousing sex that she craved, but the hard, daring, risky sex that Jason had introduced her too -- the kind of sex she'd had yesterday when she twice surrendered herself to her subordinate, allowing him to dominate her like she'd never been dominated before.

In short, last night Jason had come to her house in the middle of the night to stake his claim as her Master. By the time he'd left, Marsha Dunn was his -- totally and completely. And the cold light of day had done nothing to make her regret her choice.

* * *

It seemed to take forever for Monday morning to come. When it finally did, Marsha went about her morning routine as always, the only significant differences being the nervousness that coursed through her veins and the abnormally sexy undergarments she'd picked out for the day.

She stopped for a cup of coffee and donut on the way to work, something she almost never did. By the time she arrived at the six story office building she worked in, the donut was gone.

She rode the elevator up to the third floor, taking advantage of the opportunity to check her hair and makeup in the mirror. When the elevator doors finally slid open she stepped off and made her way nervously towards the suite, pausing for one more deep breath before stepping into her new world.

She said hello to the receptionist and made her way down the hallway. She poked her head into a copywriter's office to offer a few thoughts on a campaign that needed his attention. And she made sure she had a pleasant hello for each of the artists in her area -- including Jason. Then she entered her office and deposited her purse and coffee on the desk. It wasn't until she sat down in her chair that she realized exactly how nervous she really was.

She took a few minutes to calm her nerves before turning on her computer and looking through her list of projects. There were several things that needed her attention that day. Of those, two stood out among the rest; the Mitchell ad and the Assistant Art Director she'd assigned it too -- Jason Edwards.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled nervously, closing her eyes as she took a deep, relaxing breath. "Well," she said out loud as she opened her eyes, "no time like the present." With that she stood up, started out the door and headed directly for Jason's work station.

"Jason," she said when she got there, "I'm headed over to Ray's office for a few minutes. When I get back I'd like to go over the Mitchell ad with you."

"Sure thing, Marsha," Jason smiled. And with that Marsha turned and headed down the hall.

* * *

"Okay, I'm ready for you," Marsha said as she passed Jason's desk. "We'll meet in my office."

"Right behind you, boss," Jason said, his response loose and easy in keeping with the informal structure everyone in the office shared.

Marsha stepped into her office, placed her notepad on the desk and turned around. A moment later Jason stepped through the door, sliding it closed behind him, silently turning the knob to lock it before turning to face Marsha.

For several seconds they stood there, staring into each other's eyes. There were a million things Marsha wanted to say, but instinctively she knew enough to stay quiet until he spoke. When he finally did speak, his words shocked her.

"On you knees, Slut Puppy. I'm in need of a blow job."

The words instantly brought a look of fear to her face. She'd known things between them would be different; after all, with everything that'd happened, how could they possibly remain the same? And she'd known that she'd have to find a way to adjust to the new reality. But she'd never imagined he'd try anything at work, at least not when the office was fully staffed. Yet there was absolutely no mistaking his words.

She almost challenged him; in fact she'd actually opened her mouth to do so, but no words came out. She realized she was breathing rapidly, nearly hyperventilating, so she took a deep, calming breath. It didn't work. Finally, with an aura of absolute submission, she bit her lip and nodded her head.

"Yes, Sir," she said in a voice that was barely audible. And then she slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of him.

Her hands were shaking as she reached for his pants. She managed the belt with no problem but fumbled with the button before finally freeing it and sliding down the zipper. She then eased the trousers down his legs, leaving them in a pile around his ankles. Finally, she reached up and pulled down his underwear, her eyes glued to his engorged cock as it sprang instantly to life before her.

She looked up at him as if looking for approval in his eyes, but she found herself unable to read his expression and quickly returned her attention to the task at hand. She allowed her hands to brush lightly against his member, the mere touch of it sending shivers down her spine, before sliding her left hand to his balls. And as she caressed them tenderly, her right hand moved to his shaft, grasping it, sliding up and down its length.

She worked him like this for nearly a minute before his words once again shattered the silence.

"Suck on it," he spoke in a low, menacing, growl. "Take it in your mouth and make me cum."

She looked up at him quickly. "Yes, Sir," she answered before returning her attention to the task at hand, leaning forward and sliding her lips around him.

But even before she could start working him he grabbed her hair. "And I expect you to swallow every drop. Understand?"

With his cock in her mouth and her hair being held roughly in his hand, she nodded her head obediently and started sliding up and down his length.

She could feel her pussy flowing as she serviced him, sucking his cock, caressing his balls. She withdrew her mouth briefly to lick the length of his highly aroused dick before diving back onto it, earning a moan from him for her efforts -- a moan that sent shivers of excitement down her spine as it suddenly dawned on her just how important pleasing him had become.

She then went after him with a hunger she'd never before experienced during a blow job. In the past, blow jobs were something she did rarely, and never did they give her pleasure. But here she was, on her knees in her own office during the middle of a work day sucking madly on her subordinate's cock, and suddenly it was urgently important that she give him similar feelings of pleasure to those that he'd given her.

She became so absorbed in her task that she barely realized her left hand had slipped between her legs, madly rubbing at her pant covered pussy while she hungrily attacked her Master's manhood. It wasn't long before he started tensing up in her mouth as his hands took hold of both sides of her head, holding her steady while he unloaded his seed in her mouth, even as her own orgasm shot through her pussy.

She swallowed his cum eagerly, making sure that nary a drop escaped, even as she struggled to regain her own senses. Finally, she leaned back and looked up at him. The smile she got back was all the reward she needed.

"That was very good, Slut Puppy. You're just a natural born cock sucker, aren't you?"

She smiled. "Thank you, Sir." And then she began the process of pulling his underwear and pants back up and putting him back together. When she'd finished that, she stood up and straightened up her own clothes before pulling a small mirror from her purse and doing a repair job on her hair.

"We should probably unlock the door and take a look at the Mitchell ad," she said.

* * *

The rest of the day went pretty much as normal, with meetings keeping Marsha busy to the point where she hardly had time to think of Jason. As usual, it was after 5:00 PM when she left the office, the rest of her department already deserted.

To her great disappointment, she didn't see Jason again until she called him into her office at 9:00 AM the next morning. By the time Jason walked through her office door, Ray Bradford was already there.

"I'll get right to the point, Jason," Marsha said with an outer calmness that somehow managed to mask the inner turmoil she was experiencing. "In order to better handle the recent growth in our business, we're promoting Ray to Assistant Creative Director. As part of his new duties, he will supervise a small group of employees, including you. From your standpoint, the only thing that will change is who you'll report to, Ray instead of me. Any questions?" she asked.

Jason couldn't help but feel that something in Marsha's expressions wasn't quite right; that somehow, this decision was about more than just business. Even so, he shook his head slowly, looking briefly at Ray before returning his gaze to Marsha. "Nope," he answered, "seems pretty clear. I assume this is effective immediately?" Yet silently he vowed to delve a bit deeper into this subject later that evening with Marsha. After all, subs had no place making personal decisions without first consulting their Master. His sub apparently needed a bit more training.

"That's right," Marsha responded. She then turned to Ray. "Is there anything you'd like to add, Ray?"

The meeting ended shortly thereafter with Ray and Jason adjourning to Ray's office and Marsha headed for yet another meeting. The next time she saw Jason was 4:45 when he poked his head through her office door.

"Pizza at your place tonight, Marsha?" he asked pleasantly.

Marsha smiled. "Yeah, that sounds good."

* * *

It was 6:30 when the doorbell rang announcing Jason's arrival. Marsha hurried to the door, opening it wide. Jason strolled through without a word, a riding crop in his left hand. He entered the kitchen and picked up the phone. Before dialing he turned to Marsha. "Remove all of your clothes and stand at attention in the middle of the family room."

Without waiting for her response he turned away, dialed a number from memory and waited.

"I'd like to order a pizza," he said a moment later and proceeded to place his order. When he finally finished he hung up the phone and moved to the family room abutting the kitchen along the back of the house, finding Marsha standing there at attention without a stitch of clothes.

For her part, Marsha was beginning to accept the fact that this young man she'd gotten herself involved with was anything but predictable, and she sensed that he expected his orders carried out without question. Still, even as she ripped off her clothes and hurried to the appointed spot, there was a pounding in her chest that betrayed her uneasiness at Jason's apparent displeasure. And as she stood there silently, hands at her sides and back straight, she couldn't help wondering just what she could have done wrong.

Jason circled her slowly, coming to a stop directly in front of her. He slid the end of his 27" riding crop between Marsha's thighs and wiggled it back and forth.

"Spread your legs."

She complied wordlessly, spreading her legs until her feet were about 18" apart, gasping only slightly when he slid the one-and-a-half inch wide leather tip of the crop against her pussy and patted it lightly.

He then circled her one more time, this time dragging the tip of the crop across her body as he went.

"Okay, why don't you explain it to me from the beginning?" he said when he once again stood in front of her.

Marsha hesitated. "I'm sorry, sir," she responded nervously. "I don't know what you mean."

Jason took a deep breath, as if trying to control his temper. "I'm talking about this morning's meeting; about my reassignment."

'Oh,' Marsha said to herself, 'of course.' She thought for a minute before beginning.

"The move to promote Ray was necessary. We've actually been planning it for some time now. And obviously he needed a staff, although initially we were thinking about making Jeff the Assistant Art Director for his team, not you. After the last few days, however, I began to realize that it might be better if you didn't report directly to me. I have no doubt that, in any event, if our relationship were discovered it would raise more than a few eyebrows around the office, but it'd be a lot easier for the agency to deal with if I weren't your immediate supervisor."

She paused, considering what else might need to be said. "In a nutshell, that's about it," she finally said.

Jason returned to his slow, deliberate pacing, circling her. "Let me see if I understand this. You made a business decision to promote Ray, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you made a business decision to give him a staff. Am I still right?"

"Yes, sir."

"But then instead of making a business decision and reassigning Jeff, you made a personal decision and reassigned me. Is that also right?" he said in a deeper, stronger tone as he stopped his pacing and positioned himself directly behind her.

It was only then that the light truly went on for Marsha. She'd made a decision that affected both of them without consulting him and this was his way of setting her straight.

Still, she held her position and answered him honestly, yet in a voice he almost had to strain to hear. "Yes, sir."

Jason eased to Marsha's right side, holding the crop in his right hand and sliding the leather end lightly over her tummy and up to her breasts. He then withdrew the crop suddenly and -- SMACK! -- slapped it hard against her right breast.

"Understand this!" he barked even as she was gasping, instinctively shying away from him. "You do not" -- SMACK!, this time on the left breast -- "have the right to make personal decisions" --SMACK!, the right again -- "that impact me."

Jason's sudden attack had caught Marsha by surprise, unprepared to handle his ire. The riding crop's sudden assault on her breasts had surprised her, and did not come without a stinging pain. Still, even as she stood there shaking, wanting to shy away further but daring not, she realized the sting was temporary and already beginning to subside. It was the sound of the leather slapping against her breasts, along with the bark in his voice that truly scared her.

"Don't be mistaken about this," he continued in a softer, gentler voice. "When you accepted me as your Master, you gave up the right to all of your personal freedoms."

He leaned in close, his face inches from hers. "You do understand that, don't you Slut Puppy?" he whispered.

"Yes, Sir," she answered.

He withdrew his face from hers and repositioned himself in front of her, sliding the riding crop between her legs and patting her pussy in a soft, repeating pattern.

"I allow you to make the business decisions necessary for you to do your job," he said, still tapping her pussy with the crop. "And as long as you show me that you can handle that responsibility, I'll continue to allow it. But be assured that I will not hesitate to withdraw that privilege if you do not show a marked improvement in your decision making choices. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," she replied in a soft, submissive voice. "I'm sorry, sir. Please forgive me. I didn't understand."

Jason smiled at her kindly. "Well, now you do, Slut Puppy. And of course I'll forgive you; just as soon as your punishment is completed." He paused, smiling deviously.

"Now, assume the position."

There was absolutely no doubt in her mind as to what 'the position' was. It was the standing, bent at the waist position he'd had her in the other night when he spanked her sss. Neither was there any hesitation in her movement to obey his command.

With her heart pounding in her chest, she stood naked before her subordinate, her Master, bent at the waist, biting her lower lip as she awaited the inevitable.

The gasp that escaped her lips as his left hand took firm hold of her hair and twisted her head back was loud enough to be heard throughout the house, as was the yelp when the first swat struck her buttocks.

SMACK!

Followed almost immediately by another -- SMACK! -- and then another.

After that the blows came slower, if no less intense. And as the sting from each succeeding blow built upon its predecessor, an all too familiar feeling began building between her legs.

Perhaps it was the intensity of the moment, or perhaps it was the part of her that remembered the other night when, in a similar circumstance, he'd ordered her to play with her pussy while he spanked her. Whatever it was, she didn't hesitate sliding her hand to her pussy and massaging it while she gyrated her hips, building on her pleasure/pain even as the blows continued to fall.

And then suddenly, with no notice at all, he lifted her head and turned her towards him. "Did I say you could play with yourself?" He barked.

"No, sir," she gasped. "I'm sorry, sir. I thought that . . ."

But he cut her off abruptly, releasing his hold on her hair. "Get on the floor," he barked. "Now!"

She dropped instantly to the floor, taking her position face down below him.

"On your back!"

She obeyed without question, now staring straight up at him, her nakedness spread out below him.

He leaned over her, hovering, and then spoke in a quiet, controlled voice. "You were so eager to play with yourself, go ahead, do it! And not just your pussy, I want to see those hands of yours dance over your entire body. And I want to see you cum like you've never come before."

She held her position, frozen, her eyes locked on his as if she wasn't sure what he'd said. He allowed her a few moments to gather herself before following up his command.

"Perhaps you didn't understand, Slut Puppy. That wasn't a suggestion, or even a request. Now spread your legs wide, slide your right hand down to that hot, juicy cunt of yours, move your left hands to your tits and make yourself cum. NOW!"

"Yes, Sir," she panted, her right hand moving quickly between her legs as her left hand grabbed her left breast roughly.

It was the left hand attacking her breasts that caused her initial gasp with its squeezing, grabbing, pinching, massaging. But it was the fingers of her right hand diving into her pussy that started her gyrating atop the floor.