Controlling Young & Naughty Olivia Ch. 02

Author's note: Writing this chapter was so pleasurable, albeit highly inefficient. I worked on it in bed, on an airplane, and in a café. I continually had to stop writing because I was so turned on, I couldn't think straight. After I played with myself or had sex, I wasn't always in the mood to continue writing erotica. To get anywhere, I had to write in that sweet spot between aroused and utterly horny. Enjoy! And please vote!

By the way, I highly recommend you read Chapter 1 to get a background on Olivia and Ethan's story.

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22-year-old Olivia felt both excitement and trepidation when she awoke Monday morning. She spent her weekend sexually frustrated, unable to satisfy herself with her toys. None of the scores of men who hit on her at the club on Saturday night interested her remotely. Especially not when I have Ethan to look forward to, she thought.

Olivia went for her usual morning run in her sports bra and tiny, tight, shorts, noting with pride how the men (and many women) stared at her with lust as she passed. As much as she tried to clear her head, Olivia couldn't help but fixate on Friday evening. Why hadn't Ethan come upstairs? Olivia felt her cheeks redden with the same embarrassment she felt on Friday. Olivia shook her head and ran faster, trying to focus on the day ahead. She was so distracted she didn't even notice the man with the camera following her all morning.

In the shower, Olivia carefully shaved every inch of her luscious body. And although Ethan hadn't specifically asked, she shaved off her landing strip, hoping to impress him with her bare, smooth, young pussy. She felt a tingling at the naked sensation, and she could feel her pussy moistening between her thighs.

She put her wet hair up in a towel and proceeded to lather herself with her favorite sweet-smelling lotion as she listened to the morning news. As Olivia applied her makeup, she wondered what would happen at work today. My pussy has never craved cock like this before.

Olivia puckered her lips and applied bright red lipstick, imagining it smeared on Ethan's cock later. She then curled her hair into long, wild waves, which she knew would be irresistible. Her hair made men think of only one thing: pulling on it as they fucked her.

Olivia admired her naked self in the mirror, from her full, perky breasts down to her slim waist, bare pussy, and long legs. She turned around to glance back at her firm, toned ass, pleased with herself.

Olivia then meticulously chose her work outfit to adhere to Ethan's rules. She put on a short, pleated, navy skirt, which was 7 inches above the knee, even shorter than he had requested. Olivia sat back on her bed and lifted each leg to carefully roll up her sheer black thigh high stockings, which stopped a full inch before the bottom of her skirt. She hoped that the tantalizing flesh between her skirt and stockings would drive Ethan crazy.

Next, she chose a bright red, lacy bra underneath a tight, white button-down blouse. As ordered, she left the top three buttons undone, displaying her C-cup cleavage and sexy bra. Olivia's matching red, lacy thong stayed in the drawer; the breeze between her legs gave her a shiver and a thrill.

It turned her on so much to dress to Ethan's specifications, and she realized she loved following his orders. Her bare pussy moistened with desire. Olivia rubbed it gently as if to console it. She knew that Ethan would satisfy her. She just didn't know when. The wait was antagonizing.

She looked in the mirror again. Her tits were spilling out of her bra, and her skirt barely covered her ass. God, I look like such a slut. The thought was thrilling, and she grinned at her reflection. She slipped on her high-heeled navy pumps and headed out.

Olivia grabbed breakfast and a coffee at her usual place on the way to work. As she was turning around from the cashier, the man beside her dropped his wallet. Without thinking, Olivia bent down from the waist to pick it up. She heard audible gasps behind her. Olivia turned and realized she had just exposed her bare ass and pussy to the entire café. She looked up sheepishly, her cheeks flushing, and handed the wallet back. The man thanked her profusely and gave her a tight hug, smashing her tits against his chest and 'accidentally' slipping his hand under her skirt. Everyone's eyes were on her as she walked out, her hips swaying. The men adjusted their erections, and the women eyed her enviously. Olivia flipped her hair with a grin, loving every fucking second of it.

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At her desk outside of Ethan's office, Olivia sipped her coffee and replied to emails. Ethan was on a conference call with his door shut. She glanced at his schedule, and seeing that his call was wrapping up, she quickly made him a coffee (strong, black, no sugar) before his next meeting.

Her desk phone rang.

"Olivia, come in, please." Ethan was standing, brow furrowed at some papers when Olivia walked in and handed him his coffee wordlessly. He took it without a word or glance. Seriously? Back to not even looking at me?

The rest of the day passed much like the morning. Ethan didn't say much, and Olivia was absorbed in her work. She didn't even realize it was 6pm until her stomach started growling. The rest of the office had emptied out, and like most evenings, it was just her and Ethan. Maybe he was just waiting until we were alone.

Olivia lightly rapped on his door, feeling a little nervous.

"Should I order some dinner, sir?"

"Sushi." Again, Ethan didn't look up. Olivia was going crazy. The breeze under her skirt had ensured that she was horny and wet all day. Olivia was pretty sure her pussy had dripped juices onto her office chair. Her tits were straining against her blouse. She had never been this sexually frustrated in her entire life. All she wanted was to rip off her clothes and ride Ethan's cock until she passed out.

Instead, she demurely said, "Right away, sir," and ordered a few rolls and sashimi for them.

She set up their dinner on his coffee table and sat on the couch, her skirt rising to expose more of her thighs. Ethan sat down next to her about a foot away and started eating. Olivia leaned over to grab some chopsticks, her tits almost entirely spilling out of her bra. She was worried her soaking wet pussy would drip onto Ethan's couch.

They ate in silence until Ethan said, "Thanks for your help on the Richards account. Your research helped me close that deal today." Olivia's stomach flipped. She was flattered that he had noticed her work.

"You're welcome, sir."

Ethan sat back on the couch and finally looked at her.

"I've been smelling your pussy all day, Olivia. Every time you came into my office. Tell me what has you so aroused."

Olivia swallowed. "Dressing like this for you, sir."

"Like what?" Ethan asked sharply.

"Like a...a slut, sir," Olivia said quietly.

"Good. Because that's exactly what you are. Dripping your pussy all over my furniture. Stand up, slut."

Hearing him talk to her like this aroused her further. Olivia got up, feeling sticky as she left a small smear on the couch. She stood in front of Ethan, her pussy at his eye level. She put her hands behind her back, forcing her tits out even more. Olivia loved showing off her body for him. Her pussy dripped down her left thigh, collecting at the top of her stocking.

Ethan's finger lightly wiped up the inside of her thigh, collecting her pussy juice. He put his finger in her mouth, and Olivia sucked on it. She swirled her tongue around Ethan's finger, and he closed his eyes for a second, clearly thinking about what else she would swirl that tongue around. Olivia beamed on the inside, too nervous to show any outward emotion.

Ethan opened his eyes and spoke, his voice full of authority. "That's what sluts taste like Olivia." He eyed her up and down, from her red lipstick and bra to her navy blue short skirt and high heels. "Your body is built for sex. A fuckdoll. Do you know that?"

Olivia had never been spoken to like this. Men worshipped the ground she walked on and consequently let her walk all over them. Olivia realized that she needed this with every fiber of her body. But she didn't know what to say, so she just nodded.

"I asked you a question, slut. Answer me," Ethan reprimanded.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir, what?" Ethan's eyes flashed, and for a moment, Olivia felt fearful. The fear was surprisingly arousing. What is happening to me?

"Yes, sir, I am a fuckdoll."

"Yes, you are."

He leaned back. Olivia saw the bulge in his pants and eyed it with lust. She licked her lips instinctively.

"Come closer, slut." Olivia stepped forward. Ethan's hand caressed the inside of her thigh, disappearing under her skirt. His finger ever so slightly brushed her pussy, making her shiver with desire.

He rubbed her clit, eliciting a moan. Olivia felt unsteady on her feet. When Ethan inserted his finger insider her soaking wet pussy, she almost fell over. Ethan smirked and added a second finger.

"You're such a good fuckdoll, Olivia. Your body is so responsive to my touch." Olivia moaned as he finger-fucked her. She whimpered when he took it out. His playful demeanor disappeared.

"I am going to give you a choice right now, Olivia. Either submit to me entirely or go back to just being my executive assistant, no questions asked."

Submit? What does that mean? Olivia started to speak when Ethan said, "don't answer yet."

"I've given you a taste of what to expect if you choose to be simply an employee no longer.

"Do you know why I didn't come up on Friday, Olivia?"

"No, sir."

"I didn't come up because you desperately wanted me to. You were behaving like a wanton slut, grinding on me, exposing your tits and pussy. As much as I wanted to fuck your hot little body, I needed to teach you a fundamental lesson. You are not in charge. You will do as I say when I say regardless of what you want."

"Yes, sir."

"You are to fulfill my every request without question. Your opinion no longer matters. Unless I specifically ask for it. Listen carefully, Olivia. You are to be discreet and professional. While I may ask for certain things outside of this office, for the time being, you are to assume that nothing changes unless I change it. You are to accompany me on all business trips and are only to wear what I ask. I am to be obeyed in every matter, or there will be consequences, and I promise you will not like them."

"Option two: You go back to being my executive assistant. The rules and control end. Our relationship stays strictly professional. You are good at your job, Olivia, and you will rise quickly at this company. The choice is yours."

Do I want that? Do I want to submit, my body used for Ethan's pleasure any time he wishes? Do I want to be controlled, degraded, and ordered around? Or do I want to focus on my career and grow within the company?

Olivia knew what her answer was, but before she could speak, Ethan said, "take the night to think about it if you wish. You can tell me tomorrow."

Olivia didn't need to think it over; she knew what she wanted. She looked down. She felt nervous saying it out loud.

"I know what I want, sir. I want to submit to you, please you. I am yours, mind, and body. To do with as you see fit. To control, order, and use."

Olivia glanced up at Ethan to gauge his reaction. He smiled at her, his eyes warm.

"I was really hoping you would say that, Olivia. Strip for me."

Olivia was incredibly aroused. Her pussy was on fire. Her nipples were hard. She'd never had to wait this long for cock before, and she couldn't take it. Olivia had never been so eager to get naked. She started quickly unbuttoning her blouse, almost ripping off the buttons. Ethan's eyes darkened again.

"Slowly, slut."

Olivia forced herself to relax. She looked at Ethan and slowly unbuttoned the button under her cleavage, never breaking eye contact. As her full bra came into view, it was his turn to lick his lips lasciviously. She undid the rest of the buttons and peeled off the blouse, standing in front of him in her bra, skirt, stockings, and heels. She shook her hair loose, hoping it would have the desired effect on Ethan.

Ethan abruptly stood up, towering over her. He walked around her, admiring her half-clothed form. He grabbed a fistful of her wild, sexy hair and kissed her. It wasn't a soft, romantic kiss. It was an intense and forceful kiss, showing her that she was his now. He squeezed her ass as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Olivia responded with her own tongue, moaning against his mouth. She pressed her body into him, her tits against his broad chest, her pelvis against his hard cock.

Still fisting her hair, Ethan pushed her over to the floor-length mirror in his private bathroom and stood behind her.

"Look at yourself, Olivia."

Olivia almost didn't recognize the girl in the mirror. She really did look like a fuckdoll. Her lipstick was smeared all over her chin and mouth. Her cheeks were flush, and her tits spilled out of her slutty bra, straining against it. Riding low on her hips, her short skirt was askew, barely covering her drenched pussy.

Ethan looked at her in the mirror and squeezed her breasts together, kissing her neck. Then he ran his right hand down her stomach and into her skirt. Olivia watched as Ethan roughly pulled her bra cup down and pinched her nipple, his other hand rubbing her pussy. She started grinding her ass into his erection, desperately wanting to his rock-hard cock inside her.

Ethan started roughly fingering her pussy while he continued to grope her breast in his left hand. Olivia loved having her tits played with. It was almost as if her nipples sent a signal straight to her pussy. She leaned back against Ethan, afraid to lose her balance. His lips at her neck were so sensuous while his hands were so rough. The sensations were overwhelming; watching him play with her body in the mirror made her feel like such a slut. Just as she was about to cum, Ethan took both hands off her. Olivia stumbled, her breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"I didn't say you could cum, slut." Ethan wanted nothing more than to fuck Olivia until she couldn't walk. But he needed to teach her patience. She was headstrong and proud. She needed to learn who she belonged to. He walked back to his desk and started packing his things.

"It's late. I'll drop you home."

Olivia couldn't believe what she was hearing. She quietly dressed and gathered her things, frustrated, pussy still dripping down her legs. She would be resigned to her toy again tonight.

On the ride home, Ethan sat didn't touch her and didn't say a word.

"One more rule, Olivia. You may not masturbate or cum without my permission. Goodnight." Olivia mumbled something back as the driver opened the door.

"I couldn't hear you, Olivia."

"Goodnight, sir."

Olivia slammed her door shut and let out a scream of frustration. Her pussy was on fire. Fuck that, her entire body was on fire. She didn't feel like taking a bath tonight; she needed a cold shower. She felt a breeze when she entered the bathroom. Strange. I swear I left this window closed. Olivia didn't overthink it and stepped into the shower, the cold water washing away some, but not nearly enough, of her frustration and arousal.

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On the way home, Ethan couldn't stop thinking about his little minx. Olivia was so sweet, intelligent, and gorgeous. And she was fucking insatiable. He rubbed his cock absentmindedly as he thought of all the fun he was going to have with her.

Ethan thought back to the first day he met Olivia; he had felt an instantaneous pull towards her. She was a quick learner with incredible insight, perception, and professionalism. And then she had started to wear those short skirts and tight blouses, and he knew there was a slut inside her just waiting to be unleashed.

He pulled up his email on his phone. Images of Olivia undressing and showering flooded his screen. He swiped through pictures of her soaped up breasts, water dripping down her body, and her wet hair clinging to her back.

Ethan wired money to his surveillance guy. Ethan had hired him a few days after Olivia started working for him. He wanted to observe and understand her, but most of all, he wanted to watch her undress, shower, and play with herself. Occasionally, he was sent pictures of her fucking other men. But she was clearly unsatisfied. He knew she needed discipline and control, someone to dominate her, toy with her.

The next email showed pictures of Olivia running this morning, her tits straining against her sports bra. Her shorts were so tight he could see the curve of her ass peeking out the bottom. Another email showed various pictures of Olivia bending over at a café and exposing her ass and pussy to the camera. One showed her tits mashed up against a strange man and another with that man's hand up her skirt, fondling her bare ass.

What a fucking slut, Ethan thought with a smile.