My Boss, Compromised

Lately, I've become concerned about my boss. She has always been such an industrious person, regularly putting in long hours on behalf of the company. Recently, however, I discovered that I'm outlasting her, and that she's gone by the time I pack up my computer for the night. My schedule hasn't changed much, so it must be her.

I've also become concerned because, coincidentally, she's become involved with someone who treats her poorly. I can't fathom why she would allow such behavior, but it wasn't until tonight that I began wondering if there was a connection between her early departure and his influence.

She described several incidents where a simple question on her part ("would you like some salad?") elicited angry responses from her beau Dominic. ("Ask me again and I'll throw it in your face.") I asked her what she was getting from the relationship that would cause her to stay in such a difficult environment, but she just placed her thumb and forefinger together in the shape of a big zero. Even as regards sex, she confided, "it's all about him."

And so I grew concerned, worried even, and finally decided to do something about it.

As old friends, I still had a key to her house, even though I hadn't needed it for years. (She rarely gets away any more, so I don't need to check up on the dogs.)

At any rate, I decided one afternoon to get away a little early and see if I could figure out what was up. I didn't know whether she was even heading home (instead of his place) when she bailed out of the office, but it was worth a chance.

I parked on the other side of the community park, then walked across the green and let myself in. The dogs welcomed me with their tails wagging and jumping up on my shoulders. After playing with them a few minutes, I slipped into her bedroom, trying to think of where I could hide so she wouldn't discover me.

She kept her bedroom door closed to keep the dog fur off of the comforter. Imagine my surprise when I turned the door knob and stepped inside to discover a collection of sex toys spread across the bedspread. These weren't docile sorts of playthings either, like dildos or scarves, but menacing items right out of a bondage catalog. Some items I didn't even recognize, but other things were pretty clear as to where they should be placed and what they were meant to do.

This panoply of black leather, hard rubber, and lace caught my breath. I nearly collapsed against the door I was so stunned. There, spread across the covers, was a butt plug with a meter-long pony tail attached to it. There by the pillow was a black leather hood, with openings for the nostrils and lips, but heavy buckles and a hasp on the back for a padlock. Beside it, also black leather, was a gag with a penis attachment. It looked chewed up and damp at the base, as if it had been used a lot recently. It's buckles had mates on the hood for easy attachment.

Perhaps the most shocking discovery, however, was the note resting beneath a chrome arc-shaped device, sort of like an old bear trap. It took a moment to register, but then I realized that this was the sort of device one uses to prop the mouth wide open.

The note read: "I will not tolerate your tardiness again. Dress properly"--"properly" was double underscored--"and be completely ready for my arrival. Expect me at the usual time, and do not fail to greet me properly or you shall enjoy my lash again, but nothing else."

My god? Was this really intended for my sweet young boss? Did she really accept his demands, his threats, without questioning or fear? Or maybe she was afraid, which is why she'd put up with this. I resolved to find out more, but seeing these instruments told me that I'd have to find another way to discover her secret.... hiding in her house was simply too risky.

Just as I realized my predicament, Nicole unlocked the front door and was promptly rushed by her canine children. "Hello babies, did you miss mommy?"

I froze in my tracks--crap, she's earlier than I thought! Quickly I slid open the sliding glass door out onto the patio, hoping against hope she wouldn't see me.

Then it dawned on me. Here's where I can park my body for a time, hiding with her blinds slightly raised and an eight foot wall between her house and the neighbors.

Remembering my ancient boy scout training, I laid down low on the ground to reduce my chances of being spotted. It took a few minutes before she entered the room. Before then I heard kitchen cupboards opening, water running, the can opener whirring, and the barking of delighted dogs being fed. Soon, however, the clacking of her heels on the hardwood floor approached.

My angle gave me a perfect view of face as she opened the door. I'm not sure who was more stunned, her or me, when she saw the assortment laid out before her. Her face turned grey for a moment, then she picked up the note with quivering hands. Quickly she glanced at her watch, then suddenly started rushing about. "Oh, god, oh, god," she kept stammering. "I'll never be ready in time!" She tossed her conservative pumps under the bed and quickly unbuttoned her skirt and blouse. Her nervous fingers trembled so much that one button, then another, popped free and rolled next to the nightstand.

The delicate pink bra, all feminine and ruffles was tossed quickly onto the dresser before she stripped off her panty hose and cotton bikini-cut bottoms, which quickly joined the pile on the dresser.

Completely nude, with soft red welts showing on her bottom, she suddenly stopped for a moment, trying to decide where to start. Finally she reached for the pony tail. Opening the night stand she pulled out a bottle of lubricant and spread it thickly on the plug before sliding it into her ass.

If only I wasn't so scared for her I would've had a raging hard-on, watching a stunning brunette prancing about with a long tail, but the terror in her eyes suppressed whatever lust I would normally have felt for her. She winced when it slid into the locked position, where the sphincter tightens up over the narrow notch, and stepped over to the other side of the bed. The pony tail swished against her thighs but she didn't notice.

Facing me, but not seeing anything but the remaining items on the bed, she reached out for the half-corset. Though tightly laced up, it turns out that the strings on the back were just for show. She zipped it up the front, readjusting her breasts so they rested on the leather shelves of the cups as if in offering, her nipples exposed. And there was another surprise--both nipples had been pierced, one with a bar and the other with a ring, as if she (or her boyfriend) couldn't decide which to choose, and thus chose both.

Next she sat down to pull on black nylons, but as soon as she hit the bed she lept up again, the butt plug surprising her. How quickly she'd forgotten! She sat back down, but more slowly, being careful to flick the tail away so it wouldn't tug on the plug.

Glancing again at the clock, she rolled the nylons up one leg, then the other, then felt around beneath the bed. A moment later she found her prize, a pair of stilettos, which she slipped into even while reaching for the hood. A look of confusion crossed her face then. There was the leather penis gag, worn but ready, but there too was the chrome ring gag. Which did he expect her to wear? Her mind reeled. "Oh, god, oh god oh god ohgodohgod, what do I do?"

Finally she decided, just as I heard another key turning in a distant lock. She fell to her knees while still buckling the hood, her dark hair pulled through a hole in the top like a mis-aligned pony tail, then propped her mouth open with the chrome frame. She bowed her head just as the bedroom door opened.

This must be Dominic, I thought, as I watched a swarthy man in a dark business suit step into her bedroom. Without a word, without even a caress of her exposed breasts or leather-clad cheeks, he grabbed her by the hair in one hand while unzipping his gabardine fly with the other. His penis was still soft when he fished it out, as if the sexy tableau of a beautiful woman, on her knees with her mouth propped open, had no erotic appeal to him. Roughly pulling her face to his groin, he quickly disappeared between her lips holding her tight to him as her tongue occasionally bulged out her cheek, clearly indicating that she was trying to arouse him.

He held her this way for a minute or two until her face started to turn red and gagging noises emerged from her throat. He pulled her away briefly, showing me that her ministrations had transformed a soft penis into a monstrous cock. She breathed in quickly before being choked again with a tug of his hand as he pulled her lips hard against his fly. I could just make out a bulge in her throat as he managed to make the bend around the back of her mouth, then he withdrew again, giving her another chance to gasp and choke, though the sounds from her wide-open mouth were surprisingly muted.

He thrust back and forth a few more times, burying himself deep each time before releasing her for a quick gulp of air, then spoke for the first time. "Okay, bitch, now you do it." He leaned back against the door, both hands now at his hips, as she leaned forward and bobbed like a chicken head up and down on his cock. The metal trap of her ring gag sometimes bumped against the bottom brass button of his open jacket, making a tinking sound. She worked faster and faster, despite the awkward position and unromantic situation.

His forehead glistened with sweat and he grunted each time is cock disappeared from view. She had kept up the pace for several minutes when suddenly he let out a loud groan, grabbed her by the pony tail again, and trapped her face tight against his crotch. He pumped her full of come as his whole body twitched repeatedly, draining himself in the receptacle of her mouth. Unable to seal her lips, a thick rope of semen trailed down her chin when he finally withdrew, then dribbled along the metal frame of the gag like rain drops down a power line. She coughed a couple of times while he glanced down at his prize, haughty and imperious. She was his servant, his slave, and they both knew it.

"Well done, my silly bitch," he muttered, "but you were careless at the end. Look at this mess you've made of my trousers! Oh, of course you can't see at the moment--how silly of me. But you can still clean me up a bit." He pulled her face towards him again. No matter how hard she tried to swallow, the ring between her teeth kept her from clearing her tongue, so when she felt the fabric and zipper of his pants, she left an additional stain upon them.

"Dammit, girl, you're making it worse!" he bellowed.

She mewled desperately, unable to make any intelligible sound, but anxious to express her obedience nonetheless.

"Very well, wait a second," he answered, unclipping the ring gag and massaging her jaw briefly. "Better? Hmmm?"

"Thank you, sir," she replied, "May I clean you now that I've swallowed your delicious come? Please, sir, I'm so sorry I made a mess, may I help now?" She reached forward again with her open mouth and lapped at the stains. "I love the taste, sir, may I please have more?"

Suddenly his palm struck out, landing squarely on her ass.

"Ow!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, sir, for your reminders of my unworthiness."

If I hadn't been lying in stealth upon the ground, no doubt I would have fallen there in astonishment. My boss, fair but stern, lovely but conservative, was acting as a slave to a man who treated her with utter contempt. My god, she was beautiful! My god, I couldn't figure this out!

All this time he'd stood in the doorway of her bedroom while she serviced him, but now he stepped out of his trousers and boxers and stepped over to the bed. Sitting down on the edge, he reached back behind him, digging around under a pillow until his prize was revealed: a riding crop.

Tapping it gently against his thigh, he instructed her "Come to me now, dear. Follow the sound of my voice. That's it, that's a good girl. Keep crawling, you're almost there. Ahhhhh, good. Now, open wide. It's time you resumed your practice."

She slid her cheek along the inside of his thigh, mouth stretched as she tried to home in on his manhood. I almost squealed the same she did, when she located her target and quickly engulfing him, but not for the same reasons--my phone was vibrating in my pocket! Even as I scrambled to disable the call, I watched as once again her cheeks bulged with her efforts to renew his vitality.

Suddenly it dawned on me. Phones these days aren't just phones; they play music, they surf the web, and--most important at the moment--they can be used as cameras.

After switching over to airplane mode so that I wouldn't be startled with any further in-coming calls, I carefully reviewed the phone's options and turned off the clicking sound. Thankful I'd just bought a new model with plenty of memory, I began snapping away. It seemed like the photos alternated between shots of her mouth buried in his groin, to her mouth only at the tip, with each pair of pics revealing how quickly his cock was returning. I used the zoom feature to fill the frame, and boy was it full, just like her mouth!

After a dozen snaps I was zooming in on her throat, clicking away as he shoved himself beyond her tonsils.

Maybe I failed to mention it, but she was still on her knees, just as I'd seen her earlier. After a couple of minutes of long, slow strokes, he tapped her belly gently with the crop. "Legs straight, girlie, and bend at the waist. I want to see that tail swishing while you blow me." She struggled to get her feet beneath her without releasing the member she was sucking, but finally teetered on the stilettos to stand as he demanded.

I was working my camera overtime at this point, since their positions were in profile to my own. She was working him more quickly now, my beautiful boss with her pierced nipples swaying in time with her sucking.

He rested one hand on the back of her head, as if he was a porn star or else too lazy to put it somewhere else. I'd clicked off maybe fifty shots when I suddenly saw the riding crop swing down on her left cheek.

With her mouth full she couldn't do anything but moan, but it was clear she was doing her best to keep from biting him. He swung the crop again, this time on the right cheek. As before, he waited till her throat bulged to strike, and as before, she moaned, louder this time.

He alternated strokes of the crop for a while. With each hit her ass would sway the other way, the horsetail jerking and floating as if it were alive, and I could just get a glimpse of tears leaking from beneath her mask. The marks on her backside were crisp and red, with far better definition than the welts I first noticed, so I suspect he hadn't strapped her for a few days.

I could tell he was nearing another orgasm; his face was getting flushed and sweaty, and he'd lost interest in the riding crop in his hand. Just when I thought he was going to blow, he shoved her face away from him, them twirled her around.

She was only able to squeak out, "Pleeeeease, sir, let me have your come!" when he flicked her tail up over her back and thrust into her pussy. She winced when he bottomed out, the base of the butt plug shoving it in deeper, even as she was filled from the other side, but she didn't stop begging. "Please, I need it, I want it, I need it, I want it. Please give it to me." Raising her voice, she grunted "Please - give - it - to - me," in rhythm to his strokes.

The tableau was too much even for him, who was clearly used to such behavior. With a final hard shove, he buried himself into her as they both twitched and spasmed, each tangled in the other's orgasm, each struggling to maintain balance though knees were weak and postures impossible.

He held her tightly against him for thirty seconds, a minute, maybe even two minutes, before collapsing back onto the bed. "You did well, my little pony girl. You may return to your knees for your dessert, if you wish."

"Thank you, sir, my legs are very sore," she replied. She turned back around, giving me one photo op for a full frontal shot, her chest red and sweaty from exertion, and her nipple piercings thrust out a half inch or more from the aureolas. Though only a split second of rotation, the camera captured a perfect image, and as I watched her curl up at his feet and begin to caress him with her tongue one more time, a dilemma and solution both struck me at about the same time.

The dilemma was simple: Her outfit was such that no one would ever know who the subject of the photos was, except for the two of them, of course. The hood thoroughly covered her face and the rest of the outfit was so outlandish that no one would believe she'd wear such a thing.... not that I intended to share these with anyone of course. However, just as the realization of my dilemma hit, I glanced at the last photo I'd made, her full frontal shot with the tail dangling between her legs, and saw the solution. Nicole has a unique pair of moles on her chin, almost as if two provincial beauty marks had escaped from old French paintings and fled to her face. They were cute, they were delightful, and they were unquestionably unique.

At this point I wasn't sure what to do. She was still nestled up between his legs resting licking, and cooing. He absently stroked the top of her hood playing with that tiny ponytail it mentioned earlier. I was getting pretty uncomfortable laying on the patio outside and decided that I would use my earliest opportunity to escape my hiding place and return home to consider what I've just seen.

To be completely honest, I was still so sun stunned at what I saw I didn't quite know what to make of it all. Several options ran through my brain as I lie there as I lay there. Do I try to rescue her from the situation? Or do I take advantage of the situation for my own satisfaction? It would certainly unethical, and perhaps even unfriendly, considering the history we've had together, but you've got to understand that this tableau was exciting to the extreme.

Ants began to crawl up my leg as I continue to wait for them to leave the room. In hindsight I'm not sure why I was waiting, since I was already outside. However the geography was such that it made more sense for them to be completely at the other end of the house before I fled from here. I didn't have much longer to wait.

I watched as he released her, allowing her dark locks to tumble to her shoulders. Though still not particularly courteous, he nonetheless helped her to her feet. A master does not need to be courteous but if he wishes to maintain control he does have to offer some kindnesses now and again, assuming they are both playing the game willingly. If, on the other hand, he is exerting some other kind of influence to force her into this sort of activity, then kindness is completely optional.

At any rate, she finally climbed to her feet and with his arm around her waist she tottered out to the kitchen. I almost forgot to take a picture of her without her her hood, but managed to snap off to quick images before they left the room. I then use the opportunity to go around the other side of the house and returned to my car.

I wasn't sure how I'd act around her at work tomorrow, but I knew in my gut that I'd never see her the same way again.

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Next: he struggles to decide whether or not to take advantage of his newfound knowledge, and if so, how.