Amazon at the OfficebyLadyTabitha©
There was something about his boss that Matthew found intoxicating. By most standards, she wasn't considered a raving beauty. She was too tall, towering over most of her male employees at 6'2". Her mouth was a little thin, and her eyes had the slight upward tilt of a cat. When she walked the hallways of Interdex, her stride was sure and powerful, more of a man's walk than the silly hip swinging steps most of the other female employees used. Even thought they were a "casual" environment, most of the men and women dressed in jeans and t-shirts, his boss still favored business suits and was never without her long dark hair pulled up in a severe knot on the back of her head.
Little flaws, but it was enough to make most men turn their attentions away from her after a second glance, and force their flirtations on his boss's younger, curvier personal secretary. It was all these little imperfections that seemed to draw Matthew in, and he'd found himself daydreaming about her more than once. He knew her only as Ms. O'Connor, for she referred to no one by his or her first names and never offered her own first name for others to call her by. No one at Interdex had ever seen the interior of her office, as far as he knew. She rarely left it, only making an appearance in the workplace when there was a need to dress someone down for a job done poorly or to fire someone. All other matters were handled directly by her personal assistant.
For that reason, she'd earned a reputation as a "ball-buster" among the male employees, but Matthew didn't listen to that garbage. In his mind and dreams, he saw her as an Amazon, a powerful woman who had little need for men, using them only for her own needs. That image turned him on greatly, and he found himself longing for someone to do something wrong, just so he could get a glimpse of the divine Ms. O'Connor.
It was on his way back from the break room that he encountered her for the first time in several months. Matthew was walking back to his cubicle, a steaming hot cup of coffee in his left hand as he weaved through the snakelike spaces between their programming stations. He had just rounded a corner and was heading straight for his desk when he heard conflict from a few desks beyond his, and her stern voice rose just loud enough to attract Matthew's notice. "I don't care what your excuse was," she snapped, and Matthew altered his path, walking over to where he could see peek into the office where the action was taking place.
There she was, his lady boss, towered over one of his fellow programmers like a wrathful goddess. Her back was to him, and Matthew's eyes traveled down her slender back to her tight and short skirt, and to the rounded, muscular legs and calves balanced perfectly on her high heels. She was standing with her legs slightly parted, bent slightly at the waist and pointing her finger in the poor man's face, and Matthew admired the fact that she wore no pantyhose, and the way those gorgeous stems of hers disappeared into the shadowy depths of her skirt.
Her aggressive pose and the way her rounded buttocks were pushing at the fabric of her clothing was causing a violent arousal in him, and Matthew reached down and cupped his rapidly rising erection through his jeans, stroking himself lightly through the rough cloth. The other programmer was stammering his way through a thousand apologies, but Ms. O'Connor wasn't having it.
"Shut up," she commanded. "Your error cost me a lot of money today. I suggest you pack your things….you're fired. If you haven't left this building within thirty minutes, I'll have security escort you out." Without a glance back, she stormed out of the cubicle. Matthew expected her to use the direct hallway back to her office, so he was unprepared when she took a sudden surprise turn and whirled around the corner in front of him. It seemed like time stopped, as she came around the corner and found him watching, her pace slowing to a dead stop as her eyes came down to rest on the tenting front of his jeans. Her dark eyes widened with surprise, and he flushed red when she looked him straight in the face with no emotion on her face.
He felt like a thirteen-year-old, guilty of being caught looking at a porno magazine…..pinned beneath her gaze, he could do little more than mumble some an apology under his breath and scurry away. He was weak-kneed when he reached his desk, and sank down in his chair, humiliated. His Amazon had caught him looking, and now she knew of his obsession with her. For the rest of the afternoon, he could barely work, his mind flashing back to the look in her eyes and the way she had stared at him. If the other man had been fired simply for making a costly mistake, what would his punishment for lusting after the boss be?
He couldn't imagine that she would let it go, and so it was no surprise when Ms. O'Connor's personal secretary showed up at his desk an hour before his shift was to end. "Ms. O'Connor would like you to stay after work for an hour," the secretary requested. "She said it's time for your evaluation, and to come to her office after you log off your computer." He felt a sick, nervous feeling rising. Of course she would want him to enter her office, so she could tell him exactly what she thought before she fired him. When his hour was up, he hung his head and switched off his computer, walking the long hallway towards the double oak doors of her office.
Matthew knocked timidly on the door, and heard her call for him to enter. With a trembling hand, he turned the brass knob and entered the never-seen private chambers of his boss. It was a beautiful office, done in very modernistic style with a lot of glossy black and glass. Ms. O'Connor sat on the far end, behind a desk of black lacquer. Her brown eyes locked on him, and again she stared at him with a guarded expression.
"Mr. Hunt," she acknowledged coolly, motioning to him with a wave of her hand. "Close the door behind you, please, and have a seat." He shut the door behind him, and moved up to take a seat in one of the plush black leather chairs before her. He couldn't meet her eyes, instead looking downwards at his lap. His hands were sweating; he wiped them nervously on his thighs. Matthew knew she was still studying him, because he felt her eyes burning into him.
"Well, Mr. Hunt," she began. "I confess, I never expected to see you standing there today, and never expected you to be in that sort of condition when I did. How long were you watching?"
"Not long, ma'am. I heard you say that you wanted no excuses, then you told him he was fired and to get out."
"I see." Ms. O'Connor mused. She got up from her desk and moved over to a small black wet bar in the corner of her office. "Would you like a drink, Mr. Hunt?" Matthew looked up, confused. She certainly was offering a man who was about to be fired a lot of hospitality. He nodded. "If it's not too much trouble, Ms. O'Connor, a scotch would be great." She poured two drinks for them, a scotch over ice for him and some unidentified mixed drink for herself, and then returned to her seat after handing over his glass. They drank in silence for a long moment, and Matthew's stomach was in knots. What exactly was her game? Finally, his boss spoke once more, and what she asked nearly floored him. "Don't think I haven't noticed you before, Mr. Hunt. Every chance you get in the hallways, you watch me. Why?"
"Well…." Matthew felt uneasy. "I find you very attractive," He admitted. He was unprepared for her short bark of laughter, or the sarcastic smile on her face. "Please, Mr. Hunt. I am aware of what my employees think of me. Most of you hardly find me appealing. Ball-buster is what I think most of them refer to me as."
"I don't," Matthew replied. "I think you're a strong and powerful woman, and to me that's beautiful." He downed the rest of his drink in a nervous moment, hoping his words didn't offend her.
"Powerful," she murmured, as if rolling the idea over her tongue like a fine candy. "Strong and powerful." Setting the drink on her desk, Ms. O'Connor leaned back in her chair. "And was my strong and powerful personality what brought you to be standing in the hallway as you were today?"
"Yes." He felt his face burning. Why was she mulling over all of this? Why didn't she just tell him how sick he was and let him leave? Instead she looked at him for a long moment, one corner of her lips curving upwards. "I think I see," She agreed. There was a moment of tense silence once more while she claimed a sip of her drink. "Well, Mr. Hunt, I think it's time we got on to your punishment." Her next words turned his world completely topsy-turvy. "Since you seem to view me as some sort of goddess, I think it's time you showed me how you worship one. I suggest you start by crawling under this desk to me."
"W-What?" He stumbled over his words, his surprised eyes rising up to rest on her face with alarming speed. "Ms. O'Connor…"
"No excuses, Mr. Hunt. Get on your hands and knees, and crawl under this desk." Her tone was flat, hard and cold, and her brown eyes were unreadable. "Get on with it." Matthew found himself obeying, to his surprise, sliding from the leather chair to the floor. He ducked his head, crawling across the carpet and under the thick arch of her desk, until he arrived at the other side. Matthew glanced up and found himself eye-level with those beautiful tan legs he'd admired so much earlier when he watched her.
She looked down at him, and for a moment he imagined how completely idiotic he must look. A man in his mid-20's, crawling across the floor in his jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers to grovel at the feet of his sophisticated boss. But Ms. O'Connor wasn't laughing, nor was she even smiling. Reaching out one manicured hand, she traced one blood red painted nail across his jaw line. "Matthew…under the circumstances, I think I'm justified in calling you Matthew, am I not?"
"Yes," He whispered, barely audible. Her eyes flashed with appreciation at his answer.
"Yes, what?" She coaxed, and the next words that tumbled out of his mouth came straight from his heart.
"Yes, Mistress," he blabbed, praying that it was the right thing to say. Ms. O'Connor leaned back in her chair, and placed one hand on top of his short and curly hair.
"Good, Matthew. I like that. Now, for your punishment…." With his face only inches from her knees, she spread her legs, giving him a straight view up the depths of her skirt.
"You have one chance. I want you to get your mouth down here and eat me. If you can't make me come in ten minutes, I will fire you and you will never show your face around Interdex again." Matthew's head was spinning. She couldn't have said what she just did. Yet her hands came to the sides of her skirt, and she pulled it up around her waist. She wore no underwear beneath, the flat lines of her abdomen as tan as her legs, shaved bare save for one strip of black curling hair that ran straight down to the lips of her sex. Exposed, she spread her thighs wide, and glared at him.
"Get to work," she ordered. All of his emotions, all the longing dreams, all the Amazon fantasies flooded his body. Matthew was trembling, and beneath the fly of his jeans he was painfully erect. He leaned forward, a bit unsure at first as he zeroed in on the pink slit of Ms. O'Connor. She was already wet, that much he could see. Her thighs were smeared with her fluids, and several drops of liquid still clung to the pouting outer lips of her pussy.
When Matthew's tongue touched her flesh for the first time, she groaned a little and lifted her hips, allowing him to slide his hands beneath the rounded muscles of her ass. He realized his ten minutes were slipping away, and so he began his work in earnest. Her scent wasn't strong, but she was really wet, his lips soon coated in the pearly nectar of desire. He ate her out like devouring a succulent piece of fruit, lapping at her, licking the outer folds before pushing insistently against the inner lips. She gave him indication through grunts or little moans, letting him know when he found a good spot, pulling away if he did not. This was heaven, feeling her powerful thighs close on the sides of his head, his nose bumping her clit as he tongue-fucked her. He would have pulled one of his hands from beneath her rear as he suckled her to stroke his own throbbing need, but she clamped her hand on his wrist and held him from doing so.
"You have four minutes," she reminded him, and Matthew felt a desperation rise in his stomach. What if he didn't please her? She would turn him away, and he would lose everything. He frantically brought up his lips to the hard nub of her clit and sucked hard, the way a man loves to be sucked on the head of his cock. Matthew felt her thighs go tense, her ass come off his hands, and she grabbed the back of his head and pressed his mouth harder against her flesh. For a long moment he couldn't breathe, smothered in her pink flesh, and then she came hard with a long and throaty moan, grinding for all she was worth against his lips.
She was a squirter; her orgasm left his face literally dripping with her essence, and Ms. O'Connor released him, pushing back on his forehead to get his lips away from her still-pulsing pussy.
"Two minutes left, very good, Matthew," she moaned, wiping sweat from her brow and smiling down at him. She stood, looking down at him, still kneeling before her like a devout follower. "Get up," she ordered, and he did so.
She looked at him for a long moment, at the way his lower face and neck was coated in her glaze, at the way his body trembled with the need for release, at the thick package behind the thin layer of denim on his groin. Ms. O'Connor reached out and undid the button of his fly, pulling the zipper down carefully. His cock sprung out, eager for air and attention, and she purred her approval. Length AND width….it impressed her, and she reached out and touched the swollen pink head with one nail. Matthew's eyes closed and he shuddered violently, but still he didn't move.
"Good boy," she murmured, and opened her top desk drawer, pulling out a small vial of hand lotion. "You've pleased me, and I take good care of employees who please me." Squirting some of the gel into her hand, she rubbed it in her palms for a moment to warm it. When one slick fist closed around the shaft of his erection, Matthew thought he would lose control right there. She worked him skillfully, using both hands to please the hard length of his cock, sometimes dipping one hand down to cup the soft sacs of his balls, or jacking the shaft while rubbing the head with the other hand. He felt the chill of his orgasm approaching and warned her through gasping breaths. Ms. O'Connor stopped long enough to let the desire flag a bit, then added more lotion to her palms.
"Pull down your jeans and bend over the desk," she ordered, and he was quick to obey, wondering what she had in mind. The top of her desk was resting against his stomach, and he felt her fingers probing at the tight ring of his anus, running over and over the puckered hole to arouse and loosen him.
"You're a virgin here," she mused. "You're very tight." One of her slender fingers slid up inside, opening him for the first time, and he winced at the sudden, unexpected pain. Ms. O'Connor was still for a moment, letting him adjust. Her other hand came around and resumed the stroking of his member, until he had forgotten all about the invading digit and was concentrating solely on that sensation. She added another finger, stretching him again, again letting him get used to the bite of pain until his ring of muscle relaxed enough.
"A man has a very sensitive ass," she explained. "Relax and trust me, Matthew, you're going to love this." She began to move both hands in a similar rhythm, jacking him with one, fucking him with the other. Pleasure and pain warred in his system until they became one, the most intense pleasure he'd ever felt in his life. He was practically sobbing aloud, his hips thrusting in time with her skillful manipulation. "Oh, Jesus," he managed, feeling the pressure building, knowing the end was near. "I'm going to-Oh, god, please…"
He couldn't even beg properly when she found the prostate, manipulating him faster and with more force. Matthew's knees buckled, he collapsed against her desk as wave after wave of his orgasm racked him. His thick jets of sperm landed in several white ropes on her carpet, and he felt her withdraw her fingers slowly. She cleaned her hands with a tissue, then carefully cleaned him and ordered him to pull up his jeans. It took him a long moment to recover from his pleasure enough to obey, and he stared at her, amazed by the caring that showed in her eyes, and the excited blush of her cheeks.
"You're going to make such a lovely pet," she grinned. "Of course, you need some work, proper training and all that. I'm going to have my secretary contact a professional to work out a week when you can be instructed."
"Your secretary?" Matthew blushed.
"Of course." She laughed at his concern. "Oh, you needn't worry. She knows all about you, Matthew, that's why I sent her to bring you to my office. You see, she's another one of my pets. And she knows if she's very good, she may get a chance at you herself one of these days. That is, if you want to be my pet." She cupped his cheek lovingly, daring him to refuse. "Do you want to be my pet, Matthew? Do you want to be with your goddess from now on?"
"Yes," he admitted, and knew it was true. One taste of Ms. O'Connor would never be enough. He was drunk on her, and he knew that he wanted to spend forever worshipping his beautiful Amazon.
"Good," she purred. "Leave the week after next free. I'm sending you to be trained. Of course, I'll be giving you the week free from work….call it a paid holiday." She smiled at him, and he felt warmth beam through his body. He fell to his knees again, his arm cupping one of her gorgeous legs, his lips pressed to the knee in reverence. Ms. O'Connor gave a chuckle and swatted his hands away. She returned to her chair again, and gave him a wicked smile.
"You learn fast, Matthew. I'm going to enjoy breaking you. Now come over here and thank your mistress." She spread her thighs again, giving him access to her warm center, and he crawled to her once more, to bestow upon her all the gifts a devoted slave could offer.