As Seen by the Acorn Tree

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Kittenliz
Kittenliz
18 Followers

"What if I don't want to, hypothetically speaking," she asks. Her breathing is still irregular and her voice is husky, but he is not surprised. A person has heart and logic. A person who only listens to one is only half a person, in his opinion.

"If I were convinced that that is true, I would apologize profusely, and I'd probably lose my job before the end of the week. I took a huge risk, but not an uneducated one," he admits, tugging on the makeshift leash, causing her face to be within inches of his cock.

"So I have a choice," she smiles at him, nipping at the fly of his pants. He responds by pushing his groin into her face and wrapping his hands in her hair again.

"Only one," he growls, "yes or no?"

"What am I saying yes to," she asks, muffled by his body, obviously squirming on her legs as she gyrates her hips.

"Yes to never saying no again, within reasonable bounds," he answers, stroking the back of her head.

"Who decides what's reasonable?"

"I do, Karlien. I am a reasonable and sane human being. There is only yes and no. You can say no at any time, but it works the same way. You can never say yes again." He steps back, watching her consider this. She shrugs.

"Fair enough," she says, by way of understanding. He shakes his head. It is too quick to make a decision like that, and she should know it. She sees his frown, and she shrugs again.

"I understand exactly what you are suggesting, I do. I don't know you very well, however. I don't know if I can trust you yet. If you don't ask for more trust from me that I can give with the information I have, we should have no problem."

She seems more focused now, no longer squirming. Zackary considers what she said, and he realizes that his original plan of showing her how good submission can feel needs to be reassessed. He makes a decision for the long run, which does not sit well at him with the moment. His cock is crying for instant gratification. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and takes a deep breath. Two slow steps backwards has him leaning on his desk and he folds his hands across his chest. She stays on her knees and follows his movement attentively.

"Give me your panties," he says slowly, and she feels almost hypnotised. His voice changed, it is calm and deep and laden with authority. She looks at her last layer of protection. She hesitates a moment as she realized that each piece of clothing that he peeled of her without her objection was her saying yes. Licking her lips and keeping her eyes trained on him she leans forward and lifts her hips. In a slow movement she draws the soft material over her ass, feeling a slick trail following it down her upper thighs. As it reaches her knees, she sits up to allow it over her feet. When it is completely free of her body, she dangles the panties on her index finger, held out to him. A small grin of satisfaction spreads on his face, but he doesn't take the item from her.

"Put it on the messy pile over there with the rest of your clothes, and return to your position. Let me see your ass as you crawl, girl. Carry them in your mouth," he demands. She licks her lips again and makes a show of taking a very tiny bit of lace and biting firmly on it. He enjoys her kneeling there in the middle of his office floor, his belt dangling between her smallish breasts, and an obviously soaked pair of knickers hanging from her mouth. She stretches her body forward until she is on all fours and she turns around so her back is to him. She looks at her over her shoulder, watching him watching her. He is clearly admiring her spankable bottom with a pussy winking at him between the cheeks. Her cheeks are flushed, equally obviously enjoying the humiliating act. He wonders idly how far he can push her with regard to that. Maybe he can start small, with her wearing short skirts and no panties, and move up from there?

She crawls the few steps to the corner of the room, and drops the panties on the pile. She wonders how she didn't fall over her skirt as it slipped of her earlier on, with her slippers clearly entangled in the mess. She stays absolutely still, looking at her panties, on top of her skirt and her black shoes, enclosed in her blouse and bra. She realized this image was probably going to burned into her mind for a while yet. He says nothing, and she gives herself a mental shake and turns her head over her shoulder again for further direction. Was a shag too much to hope for at this time, she asked herself.

"To me," he says, barely above a whisper as his eyes meet hers once again, pointing to the space of floor directly in front of his shoes. She turns around with an uncomfortable motion and crawls to him. The barely two and a half meters of floor space feels like a red carpet to her. It feels like the paparazzi should be blinding her with camera flashes, and her body breaks out in goose bumps. The intensity of his stare on her body continues to unnerve her as she finally stops in front of him and she sits back into a kneeling position.

"You are so beautiful, Karlien," he says as she shyly looks up at him. His voice radiates sincerity, and pure male appreciation. She flushes at the compliment, refusing to take it to heart too much. That is what a guy is supposed to say in a situation like this. It is not really her idea of what a dominant should say, but it doesn't worry her too much since she is very much aware of the fact that the bdsm scene is as wide as the ocean, and its players as different as the citizens of South Africa. He also realizes that he was overcome with the contented feeling he had from the minx in front of him. He had been hoping for somebody like this for a long time, perhaps too long a time. It probably lead him to the desperation of pulling off something like this. He strokes her hair briefly and hardens himself.

He walks around her and tells her to keep her eyes in front of her. He purposefully stalks to the pile of clothing and scoops it all up in one movement. Karlien hears him busying himself with her clothes, but she forces herself not to turn around and satisfy her curiosity. Suddenly she hears the door open and before she can object she hears it shut again. She swivels around only to find herself completely alone in the room.

"What the fuck," she rudely demands from unknown cosmic forces. She jumps up and walks to the door, tentatively opening it whilst making sure her body is covered behind it. It is just in time to see him disappearing down the stairs with her clothes in tow. She swears again knowing she doesn't have the courage to go after him, even if she is almost sure the building is deserted this time of day. She bangs the door shut again, louder than she meant to, and she looks around the office. The tablecloth is the only item that seems to present an answer to her predicament, but she'd have to move the computer to get it off the table. Her bag is still there, and it contains her cellphone, but there is absolutely no way that she is calling up her friend, demanding that she is to come to the Economics building and to bring clothes. Not yet. He is bound to come back, she tells herself frantically... hopefully before tomorrow morning. She is sure as hell not walking all the way home wrapped in a gaudy flower print table cloth.

She slumps down in the chair she had occupied earlier on, and she bites her lower lip. The frown is back on her forehead. The fucking bastard stole my clothes, she thinks, but her inner submissive points out respectfully, but insistently, that she gave her clothes to him, she allowed him to take them. The thought makes her push her thighs tightly together. She sighs and accepts that she is probably going to have to wait for him for quite a while. Might as well use the time to clear her mind, she decides with a bratty smile on her face. She has always wanted to cum on a lecture's desk...

She gets up abruptly and clears a space in the middle of the desk. She climbs up haphazardly, causing a book to flutter unceremoniously to the floor. She shrugs and tells the book that it can deteriorate into fucking dust on the floor for all that she cares. She leans back on her elbows, and then flat onto her back. Her hair falls over the end of the desk, touching Zackary's chair. She spreads her legs, making sure that her pussy would be the first thing seen if anybody should come through the door. She brings four fingers to her mouth and she scoops out a liberal amount of spit, and then she rubs it all over her cunt. It doesn't actually need the extra lubrication, but she enjoys the squelching sound it produces. She starts by swirling the spit and girl juice around over aimlessly, and then her circular motion becomes smaller until she zooms in on her clit with two fingers. She rubs it slowly at first, but as she imagines how dirty she must look at this moment her movement become more erratic and pronounced. Her hips start lifting off the table, and she suddenly thrusts her fingers into her wet hole, fucking herself wildly. Her other hands busies itself by pinching her nipples. She moans a little as she starts to feel the familiar oncoming orgasm, and she forces herself to slow down, floating in the wanton desire, prolonging the inevitable. She removes her hand slowly from her cunt and she smears the juices over her stomach, then using both her hands to twist and grab at her tits. As her orgasm recedes slightly she dips her hand back into her pussy. She rubs her clit hard with the flat of her palm, with her index finger curled into her. It builds again and this time she knows she is not going to stop. She pants out a cry as it crashes over, an electric jolt that starts in her groin and flows out to every part of her being.

For a moment she lies there with one hand resting on her between her legs and the other on her left boob, legs akimbo, toes curling over the edge of the desk. Oblivion takes her for that moment, where nothing registers in her mind, but slowly she becomes aware of approaching footsteps. Briefly she considers getting up and making herself presentable. Zackary opens the door and he is immediately faced with a puffy red sex, clit poking angrily out. The smell in the air is a clear indication of what just took place on his desk. He feels his cock twitches at the invitation right on front of it. It takes every ounce of his control to not just strip down out of his pants and walk his aching dick right into that soft flesh. He breathes deeply and takes stock of his possessions rudely shoved to the side, and even some of it that fell to the floor. He shakes his head with a frown of disapproval when she leans her neck up slightly to stare at him with lust dazed eyes.

"I can't leave you alone for fifteen minutes without you acting like a spoilt whore," he barks as he crosses the space between them in a few swift steps. Slowly panic registers on her features but she is still too sluggish to react in any way. He grabs both of her wrists and holds them in one of his large hands, grabbing the belt still around her neck, and he loosens it roughly. He twists the buckled end into a handle, and folds it into a loop. He smacks her across her breasts, not particularly hard, but in rapid smacks that makes her wince. He knows her nipples must be sensitive at this point, judging by the claw marks around it. She finally finds her breath and she starts making objecting cries, drawing her knees up to protect her breasts. Zackary sees this as an opportunity to start smacking her now available ass cheeks. He strikes her until she stops struggling and then he drops the belt to the floor, glaring at her angrily.

She rolls over on her stomach in an attempt to get up, but as soon as her boobs touch the table top, grabs her wrists again, and pins them behind her back. He drags her down towards him, and allows her legs to drop to the floor, effectively leaving her bent over his desk. He steps behind her and presses his trouser-clad cock against her buttocks. He leans over her, his mouth now next to her ear.

"You owe me an orgasm, darling. You took one from me, so now I'm going to take one from you in a way that you are not going to like," he whispers menacingly. She shivers, both from the proximity of his body, and the threat hanging in the air. She feels him move away from her, but she is fixed to the spot. A moment later she feels him loop the belt tightly around her wrists.

She moans and is suddenly acutely aware of the rough material of the cloth on her nipples. She wriggles her wrists, realizing that they are probably going to stay exactly the way they are. With the end of her recent orgasm went the sexual haze that had been clouding her mind, and she struggles to comprehend how exactly it happened that she was now in this position. She breathes loudly and absurdly notices the afternoon light fading through the branches of an alien acorn tree. It seems to have a million fingers gripping millions of crops and canes and floggers.

She hears a disturbing sound behind her, the kind somebody makes when they have phlegm in their throat they wish to dislodge, and she feels his fingers spreading her ass cheeks apart. A second before it happens she knows what his plan is. A wad of spit lands on the top of her crack. She feels herself blushing hotly as it trails glacially slowly downwards. She hears only their two distinctive breathing patterns and the ticking of a wall clock. She knows she is tense, too tense. She must relax soon, because the inevitable will now happen. With a huge amount of effort she relaxes the muscles in her neck and turns her face so as to rest her cheek on what she now thinks of as the hated tablecloth. She closes her eyes and waits. Seconds go by, the spit starting to feel cold between the vice grip he has on her ass cheeks. She imagines that his knuckles must be turning white.

He watches her carefully, waiting for her body to relax. Suddenly he twists his hand and starts inserting his thumb into her puckered hole. She does not move, or flinch. The only sign she gives as to her awareness is the flush on her cheeks, and her biting her lip. He sees her now taking deliberate slow deep breaths. His thumb insistently slides deeper in her, ignoring the resistance. When it is as deep as it will go, he draws it out again. He repeats this action, in and out, increasing his pace slowly.

"Tell me, whore, does my finger feel good in your ass," he asks softly. She does not reply. He draws back his other hand and slaps her left cheek hard. The sound of it echoes, and he accompanies it with a twist of the thumb in her ass.

"Answer me," he insists, without raising his voice. She shakes her head and gasps as he starts adding a second finger with more spit.

"Use your voice, let me hear you," he demands. He curls his index finger inside her.

"No," she whispers, barely audibly. He doubts that it feels good himself. Not yet, anyway.

"If I were you, I would try and at least be a little respectful," he chides, watching his fingers disappear. He feels her clenching tightly around them. He is hypnotised with the motion, thinking of little else but how good it is going to feel to sink his aching cock deep into that hole.

"No, Sir," she relinquishes after a while in a small voice.

"Good girl," he states, almost to himself. He continues this activity for a long while, waiting for her to get used to the intrusion. He feels her loosening up, he hears her making small whimpering sounds which slowly turn into wanton moans, he sees her starting to grind her hips to meet the thrust of his pumping fingers. She is ready, he knows, but he is reluctant to break the spell. He sighs and withdraws his hands completely, stepping away from her. He fumbles in his pocket and retrieves a condom. He places it on her ass. She opens her eyes immediately, and looks at him over her shoulder. He meets her gaze, a fire smouldering in his eyes. She is unable to keep it up for a long, and he watches her lashes flutter as she turns her eyes to the computer, not seeing anything.

"I am going to fuck your ass now," he says matter-of-factly. "I'm going to take my time." She closes her eyes again as she listens to him. She can feel him still watching her, but she does not want to acknowledge it. She is no stranger to anal sex, but finds it an intense experience, and too intimate. She feels invaded, intruded upon, almost claustrophobia that is induced by his presence.

"Tell me what is going to happen now, pet," he probes. "Look at me when you speak. Remember your manners."

She listens to a full minute ticking by before she braves opening her eyes. Thoughts raced through her head before, but when she sees him, it is as if he is the only thing in the world that exists.

"You are going to fuck me now... Sir," she answers. She is vaguely aware that this is some sort of consent ritual.

"How am I going to fuck you?" In a way, she expected the question.

"In my ass, Sir," she replies, licking her lips, which suddenly feels very dry.

"Yes, sweetheart, I am," he agrees with satisfaction, rubbing his dick through his pants.

"Now close your eyes tight for me, I just want you to feel," he says, leaning over her to clutch the edge of the tablecloth and he folds it over her face and a part of her upper body. As darkness enfolds her, Karlien realizes that she is going to be sodomised by a cock she hasn't even seen yet, one that she almost sucked. The idea scares her, first and foremost, but it is also the sexiest thought she can imagine. She is sure she felt her pussy twitch, but she doesn't think on it too long as she hears the distinctive sound of a zipper. She holds her breath as she listens to his clothing fall to the floor, a condom packet being torn, and silence. She opens her eyes, feeling naughty... no, disobedient. The fluorescent light of the room filters through the heavy material, and she can make out the vague outline of the computer screen. She is aware of the bottom part of her body feeling cold now versus the warming protection of the hated tablecloth against the slight chill. However, it feels sticky and hot between her legs. She senses his approach a moment before she feels the caress of his large hand over the curve of her hip.

His other hand joins the first, and he holds her waist as he steps in close to her. His unclothed rod presses up between her cheeks. She knows instantly that it is ready to drive right into her, and oh, he feels thick. She has no way of telling if it is long, and even if her sense of feeling is lying to her. She moans as she feels him unexpectantly rub along her slick exposed cunt, sliding the head over and over her clit. He wasn't lying when he said that he is going to take his time, she reflects in frustration as she tries to wiggle into getting more. After a while of frantic movement, but no progress, she hears him chuckle. She stops immediately, embarrassed by her wanton behaviour.

He slides his cock along her snatch one more time, and abruptly spits on her again, roughly spreading the goo over himself and into her back hole. He aims his head and places a small pressure against her ring, but not yet entering. He snakes his hand under her pelvis and starts spreading her girl juice leaking copiously now over her clit. She gives a small jump under his ministrations, effectively plopping the head of his cock into her ass. She gives a long deep groan as the sensation fills her. So full, she thinks feverishly to herself while keeping completely still. She feels so stretched, the pain burns through her, but the insistent finger circling her clit soon distracts her. As soon as her body betrays her and she starts moving again, his cock slides deeper into her. The descent into her ass is an exquisite torture for both Zack and Karlien. Karlien imagines herself being speared by her own lust, and Zack feels the ripples of her inner walls. Every twitch and contraction envelopes his cock as he forces himself into her most intimate orifice. Eventually he is balls deep into his little minx. He removes his hands from her hungry cunt and spread her cheeks, deciding to burn the visual ecstasy into his mind forever. There is nothing else in the world that gives him this euphoria of control than watching his tool buried into a submissive whore's ass. His heart is thumping in his chest, and his balls smashed up against her feminine core feels heavy. He growls as he grips her hips tightly and begins the outward movement. He goes faster now, but still slow enough for her to feel every inch of him sliding out of her.

Kittenliz
Kittenliz
18 Followers