Beat the Boss Ch. 01-04

My pants were strangling me; I could only imagine the sensations that hers were causing. "Show me the bedroom," I said softly. I followed her, watching her hips swaying, her legs and feet seemingly uncoordinated. She stopped inside the room and tuned around. I saw her breasts naked for the first time. The nipples now seeming even more pronounced, the diameter of my little finger and nearly the length of the first joint. I took her hands and placed them behind her head again. Her breasts swayed and jiggled slightly. My hands on her waist in the same place that I had first touched her when I had been sitting behind her. I leant forward and brushed my lips across her neck and felt my jacket snag on her nipple. I stepped back and undressed as she watched.

I knelt on the bed and beckoned her. She moved her hands towards her panties again, but she caught my eye and stopped, then raised her arms and clasped her hands behind her head again. At the edge of the bed, she hesitated as if to sit on the edge, "No, come here," she shuffled on her knees towards me. I slowly squeezed one nipple, my other hand brushing the inside of her leg above her stocking. Then I grasped the fabric at the front of her panties and bunched it together and pulled it away from her belly. Then I slowly moved the bunched cloth upwards. A gentle tug and I felt her lips split to either side of the soft rope that the fabric had become. She was now making a continuous low moan, deep in her throat, almost humming. Keeping the tension on the fabric of her panties, I slowly released the pressure on her nipple.

My fingers were now each side of the fabric, less gentle now, pushing into the mound below the curve of her belly, pushing into the flesh above the pubic bone, then drawing upward then down again, then more gentle pressure so that the flesh slipped over my fingers, now very softly, brushing the swollen lips at each side of the gusset.

Brushing my fingers forward again and back, the skin felt warm, polished, and swollen by the constriction of the tightly bunched cloth. After releasing the tension, the cloth un-bunched but still clung to the contours of her flesh. My fingernail traced the contours along the centre line from belly, down and circled her clitoris slowly once, twice with her hips following the movement. With my two fingers I curved along the join of the legs, gripping the lips between them. My grip getting firmer until I could feel the nub slide and contract, I eased the pressure and felt it slide back. Gripped again, another contraction and the moaning rose and fell.

I stopped.

I watched as her eyes slid back and focused on the situation; thought processes slowly restarting. The beginnings of panic while goose bumps slowly rose on the skin around her nipples. She lowered her arms from behind her neck. I could see the real-world creeping back into whatever fantasy she had been lost in.

"What were you thinking about?" I asked softly. She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and to deny me an answer. I gently cupped my hand between her legs. She stiffened so I increased the pressure and she relaxed against it. I moved my hand slowly back and forth. I could still feel the swollen lips slide over each other, the wetness seeming to fill my palm. "What?" I asked again. She shook her head again, but this time, it flopped from side to side like a rag doll.

Removing someone's knickers always seems to be a defining moment. Whatever has gone before might be excused as petting, foreplay, possibly even flirting. 'No knickers' always seems to be an absolute statement of intent. I can still remember, from my teenage years, the shock and thrill when a girl I had been dancing with for most of that evening returned from a visit to the toilet and unexpectedly whispered to me that she now had her 'knickers in her handbag'.

Looking directly into Julie's glazed eyes I merely took hold of the waistband and eased them down to below her knees. I put a hand on each hip and guided her towards me. She was then kneeling with a leg each side of my hips and her knickers around her ankles. I slid straight into her in one easy movement. Her eyes opened wide and startled, she uttered a low grunt. I didn't move inside her but could feel her muscles gripping and relaxing.

She seemed to be almost oblivious to the situation. Her body was responding but her mind seemed to be somewhere else. I let go of her hips and she put her arms behind her on the bed to stop herself falling backwards. I took hold of each nipple in turn and rolled them between my thumb and first finger and then stretched them away from her making her breasts elongate. Her hips were now slowly rotating, mashing her wet lips into my groin like a wet mouth sucking me. I could feel her cervix moving over and around the head of my prick like a hard tongue. I increased the pressure on her nipples. She started to groan loader. I squeezed harder, then very hard and she went ballistic.

I hung onto her waist as she bucked and jerked. She grabbed onto my shoulders, and I could see that her teeth were clamped in a manic grin. Despite the wild look the only sound was an explosion of breath every time she pounded down. As she thrust down, I raise one hand and landed a stinging spank on one buttock. She broke the rhythm and stayed sunk deep onto me for several heartbeats then as she slowly rose, she growled a single, "Yes." I landed a smack onto the other buttock. She rocked her pelvis forward, hard onto me then smoothly back to present her bum again. I obliged, trying to sting rather than hurt. Again, she plunged forward deeper onto me and then smoothly back. I hesitated; she was balanced on my tip and could go no further back without separating from me. I raised my hand and her bottom swayed as she moved her weight from knee to knee, I heard her softly reciting a continuous mantra. "Please, please, please, please." This time I landed a harder slap than I intended, and she yelped and thrust down onto me again and then slid straight back, waiting. As I heard my hand strike again, I thrust up towards her and spanked again.

I have no thought of anything now. I am alternately thrusting up and slapping her bum, she is bucking and pushing, and we are making our own soundtrack of animal noises. She falls onto her back and her knees are over my shoulders. I have her nipples between my fingers again. At each thrust we both gasp and I realise that I am squeezing her nipples, with my full strength. Her feet are now flat on the bed as she arches her back and lifts my weight. My feet are slipping on the sheet as I try to drive deeper. I grip the bed head and pound her against it. I finally come, the jissom scalding along the length of my prick.

The world slowly returns. She is lying as though unconscious. I consider how things are going to go from here.

First thought - not the usual method of resolving disagreements with the boss

Second thought - I had heard that many powerful men enjoyed being dominated- perhaps this also applied to powerful women? If this was the key to Julie's sexuality, the conflict between aggressive working woman and helpless sexual animal would be difficult to manage. Would life at work now be totally impossible for me?

She stirred weakly and purred, "Donald that was delicious."

I put my theory to the test and said gently "If you call me Donald again, I will punish you." She shuddered and her nipples slowly peaked. "Now I need a shower - where is it?"

She led the way and stood watching me through the glass as I stepped under the spray. My balls still felt heavy despite (or perhaps because of) the shuddering orgasm. Julie was standing watching me through the glass of the cubicle, seeming unable to decide what she needed to do next. "Use the bidet" I suggested.

"It's the toilet I need - too much to drink," she said, half apologetically. She was regaining her poise and despite everything that we had done together that evening, she now seemed to be shy. I suppose that sharing a bathroom required a different type of intimacy.

I stepped from the shower with the water still running and walked straight to her. Kissed her full on the mouth (for the first time I realised) and said simply "Do what you are told, use the bidet." I walked to it turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature. I pushed her down so that she sat facing the taps and directed the spray between her legs. Her bum was pink from the spanking and in some places, high on her legs and to the sides I could see individual marks from my fingers. She stiffened, turned her head to look at me and then slumped as I saw the water tinge with yellow as she released a strong stream of piss.

I returned to the shower and increased the water flow. As I watched her delicately drying between her legs with a towel my erection started to rise again. She looked at me.

"Can I come in there with you?" I slid open the door and she took the soap, lathered my back and legs, and then cupped my balls with one hand and gently squeezed and lathered them. After rinsing off the soap, she dropped to her knees and slid her mouth over the engorged tip. She briefly stopped to ask quietly "Do you mind?"

I took her head and gently moved her mouth towards me, briefly wondering if, in the history of the world, any man had refused such an offer.

Considering how recently I had cum, I did not last long. It felt as though my spine was being dragged through my penis. The sensation was excruciatingly delicious, I was wasted. She looked triumphant. The exertions, the drink and the day's events had left me tired and light-headed. I dressed and left for home with a final reminder that we would have to continue to treat each other the same as before, in work, tomorrow.

Chapter two

Work the next day seemed weird. I made sure that the new production details were sorted before the morning meeting. I won my bet for coffee with Nat. by asking a schoolboy riddle and sat down in the meeting room. Doug was already getting his point across about the inconvenience of the production changes (I was surprised that he was even aware of them yet) and Julie brought the meeting to order.

The meeting was much like all the others; some shifting blame, some taking the credit for other's ideas, all trying to impress. Julie was running the show like a circus ring master. There was very little evidence of last night's encounter. She did call me 'Donald' and when I looked up, she avoided my eyes. I also noticed that she sat unusually still on her chair (perhaps sitting down was uncomfortable?) Apart from that she was her usual efficient self.

As the meeting broke up, she called me back; all she said was, "What next?" Natalie was hovering outside the door so I said that I would 'phone her from my office later. "Make sure you do," she said darkly.

There were the inevitable series of questions and concerns about the production changes and the hours flew by. In the middle of a problem, vignettes, from the previous night, would slip into my mind but despite this I left telephoning her very late. The works closes early on a Friday, but I still had another two hours of work unless I planned to be in the office on Saturday. I had other plans for the weekend.

When I 'phoned Julie, she sounded cross. "Donald - I have been waiting for your call since this morning."

I asked if she was alone in the office and explained that I had to work late. I could feel a 'deep frozen' silence emanating from the receiver at my ear. She was the boss of the Company and if I was going to survive, I had to regain some control, so I said firmly. "You go home and get in the bath, wash everywhere, remove every trace of hair below your neck, change the water, soak for another hour while you think of the most erotic situation you can imagine but don't orgasm, dry yourself, rub oil in your skin all over. Do you understand?" Silence. "Repeat what I said."

No response. This silence was decidedly uncomfortable for me -- another 'defining moment' I decided. When she eventually responded her voice was so quiet that I had to strain to hear her; she was repeating the instructions almost word for word.

Before I hung up the 'phone I said, "I'll bring dinner at 8 O'clock; be ready." Even I wasn't sure what I meant by 'be ready'; God knows what she was thinking. I then 'phoned a specialist caterer and ordered an 'up market' take-away before getting down to company business again.

I arrived at her flat with a cardboard hamper in both hands and a bottle tucked under my arm. The door wasn't locked so I pushed it open and walked in to see her standing in the middle of the room like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"What did you mean by 'be ready'?" She asked somewhere between defiant and frightened. I said nothing but carried the hamper to the table and began to unpack it.

First a white tablecloth. "Ready for what"? she queried again.

I unpacked the hor's d'ouevre and beckoned her to sit down on the couch. She was very tense and sat on the edge, hugging her bath robe around her. I leaned across and gently took her chin in one hand and with the other scooped my fingers into the food bowl and brought it up to her mouth. I opened her jaw and pushed my food covered finger into her mouth. The tension left her, and she started to suckle my fingers. Between us we finished the starters like that, both of us eating from my fingers. - This was taking 'finger food' to a whole new dimension.

The next food from the hamper was small pieces of food in crisp light batter. Some fish, bits of vegetables, rice - all sorts. She slid of the couch and knelt on the floor to take her turn at feeding me the pieces, one at a time. As she knelt her bath robe opened further, the sides meeting only where the belt held it together. Her firm breasts swung into and out of my view as she moved.

I changed into her spare robe, and we fed each other the entire meal. Holding glasses of wine to each other's lips, licking the drops of spilt sauce from each other, sharing pieces that tasted especially good. At some stage she shrugged off her robe and I saw that, since the previous night, she had trimmed most of her pubic hair.

The dessert course was particularly memorable, a froth of fruit and cream with liqueur. I didn't eat any, but I was sure that the liqueur content was high; I could feel it burn the 'eye' of my prick while she licked and sucked it off.

She padded across the floor to make coffee and as she returned, I asked how she had managed with the 'tasks' I had set her. She hesitated and a slow flush crept up her neck and her nipples became more erect. She said nothing. I realised that in all the time we had been together in her flat we had hardly spoken, certainly we had not had conversations.

"Tell me about it," I said - she stood looking at me taking shallow breaths. "Did you take a bath?"

She mumbled a 'yes' noise. "Why didn't you remove all of the hair?"; "Did you 'cum'? What did you think about?" I prompted.

"I was in the bath and was thinking about last night and trying to remember what you told me to do" she said in a low voice "I was starting to get excited again, but you told me not to orgasm and the little electric razor was tickling so I stopped," she ended with a hint of defiance.

"What were you thinking about exactly?" Her eyes dropped again, and she sunk down to her knees in front of me again.

"You make me frightened... I don't understand what's happening... I can't remember what I was thinking about..."

"Listen to me" I said. "There are only two things you need to understand, one, don't ever lie to me; two, do everything I tell you to do. Do you understand?" She nodded her reply. "You lied to me when you said you couldn't remember what you were thinking about - tell me now"

"I can't," she replied in a small voice.

I sat her on the coach and knelt in front of her. Taking one foot in my hand, I planted a soft kiss and eased her legs apart. My kisses walked up her leg and along the inside of her thigh; then down again and repeated on the other leg. As I reached the apex of her thigh, my nose brushed against her pussy, and she inhaled sharply. I kissed along the creases of her legs and hips. Up and around the top of her pudenda. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

"You admitted that you didn't shave all of the hair here; we will deal with that soon."

I slowly sucked each labial lip separately then gently touched her clit with my tongue once. She pushed her hips towards me, but I stood up. She groaned.

I took her hand and slowly pulled her to her feet and towards the shower. I turned on the water, guided her into the shower, picked up her battery shaver and stepped into the shower with her. I held it briefly to my lips and the tingling sensation made them feel numb almost immediately. I touched it to her lips and then held it very lightly against her nipple. The aureole puckered and I rolled it between my finger and thumb. As I looked into her eyes, I gradually increased the pressure until she gasped.

I moved the razor slowly down her belly and she slumped back against the wall of the shower, the water cascading down her and off the tips of her breasts. The noise of the razor increased as I moved it over her pubic bone. I crouched down and pushed the heel of my hand into her lower belly to tighten the skin there. As I moved the razor up and down each stroke finished slightly lower, slightly closer to clitoris which was slowly pulsing between the folds of her quim. I stood up and rinsed the hair from the razor, took the soap and washed the newly shaved area. I took the shower head from the wall fitting and directed the stream of water to rinse the soap away.

Then I crouched down again to continue. Slowly, slowly, moving the buzzing head further between her legs, teasing the labia taut but avoiding touching her clitoris which was now pulsing regularly. Her knees were slightly bent and shaking, her legs looked as though they would not support her.

"If you come now, I will spank you." She stopped shaking and her legs steadied, she was now concentrating. I soaped and rinsed her again then I touched the droning razor to what I was sure was the centre of her universe at that moment. She gasped and as I withdrew the battery driven torment, her hips followed. I lowered it and she sunk down lower until she was kneeling with me on the shower floor. I turned the razor off and the sudden silence seemed unreal.

She was looking deep into my eyes as I unscrewed the shower head from the metal hose. I played the water on her breasts and across her belly, watching the impact of the jet as it moved her flesh like invisible fingers. She was watching me as though I was miles away, as if I was playing with someone else's body. I half covered the end of the hose and the force of the jet increased. I moved it lower and lower down her belly. The jet flicked across her clit, and she jumped. I flicked it again and again she flinched. I directed the water jet directly onto it and she rocked from side to side, the water moving the swollen lips with each movement.

In a low voice, as if from a long way away I heard her intone, "Please let me, I want to come, please let me, please, please."

"Not until you tell me what you were thinking about during your bath."

"I was thinking about you doing things like this," she almost sobbed.

I put my fingers each side of her clit and asked, "Were you thinking of this?"

"Mmmh yes."

I moved the end of the hose so that it was pointing straight up between her legs so that the force of water was douching and swirling inside her "Like this?" she groaned agreement. I moved the hose so that it played on her anus, and I gently frigged her clit. "And this?"

"Mmmh" I realised what the expression 'putty in one's hands' really meant - If I moved her limbs into one position, she stayed there without protesting, soft and malleable.