Giving in to Temptation Ch. 07

I managed to back off from her. "How did it make you feel Poppy?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you got yourself off with your new toy last night, were you thinking of doing this to him, or of your boyfriend, or of someone else?"

"Well, my boyfriend of course..." Got her. The realization came to her immediately.

"Oh, master... I'm sorry..." She thought of how sore she was from the previous night's punishment, and shuddered.

"Poppy. Tomorrow, bring your new toy to work. Now, go get the ruler."

"M-master.. the ruler... I cannot do that again... so sore... please... anything. Anything else."

"Sure - go to the couch, and masturbate until you orgasm." She turns beet red.

"I .. I tried... I cannot." I hand her my tube of facial moisturizer.

"OK then, take this, use it, and finger your bum with it."

"What?!"

"Take it. Go to the couch and kneel, facing the wall. And finger your bum. You can stop when you get two fingers all the way in."

The progressive looks of shock, anger, denial, and ultimately acceptance washed across her face. I didn't even have to tell her to scoot over using her square of cardboard. She hated me watching her do it. It must have seemed vulgar to her. But, I gotta confess, she has a sweet ass, and, maybe a bit of a surprise to myself, I was rock hard watching her work her bum with her fingers.

She finally succeeded, her face full of shame, humiliation. I sent her on her way, and once gone, I retrieved the toolkit from my closet. It only took a few minutes to drill the holes at the reinforcing points of the office's closet door and set the eye hooks. I then turned to the computer and made a couple of on-line orders. Its so cool that these services can deliver in a day. Satisfied with my work, I left for the night.

Thursday:

After the team meeting, Poppy received a package from the local florist. She was excited... convinced the package was from her boyfriend... bragging about his thoughtfulness, and opened it for us all to see.

The card read "Poppy - with affection, Master." Puzzled, and not connecting the dots, she proceeded. Inside the box was a riding crop. The boys went nuts.

I texted her later: "I assume you brought your new toy. See you at 6."

The day dragged on for Poppy. I think she was terrified by the thought of the crop. Or of what she'd not yet told me. When the appropriate hour chimed, she was in place. Clearly nervous. And her nipples were rock hard.

"Good evening Poppy. You've been a bad girl, huh?"

"Yes master."

"You can confess you know. It's ok. Really."

"Master, I think you know..." Silence.

"Perhaps, but confession is good for the soul. Do you trust me?"

"Yes Master."

"Then let go. Tell me everything." And she did. Wow... I was not expecting this. How her boyfriend was a status symbol, not a lover... how the size of Jeff's cock... the likes of which she never even imagined, set her on fire... how she had actually started to look...forward... to our sessions... how she was thankful for being given permission not to blow Ian anymore... and how... and her face reddened here... the result of her time with me in the office made her mad with lust.

"But Poppy - we're just starting. So, as you know, disobedience has its consequences. Do you not agree?"

"Yes Master." Good girl.

"I bought you something. See the box on the couch? Go open it." She does, sliding, albeit painfully, slowly. Inside, there's four sets of restraints, for wrists and ankles. Pretty easy to connect her restraints to the frame of the closet door, using zip-ties (really useful things, those - I recommend keeping a selection on hand, just in case). She's confused, as expected.

"Its OK Poppy. You'll see. Now, where is the riding crop?" Shit. She left it at her desk on the other side of the office. "Thats OK, Poppy - lets go get it."

She starts to rise, only to back down onto the cardboard when she sees my look. Turning around, she starts scooting along, out my office door, down the hallway to her office. It takes a while... she's gonna have some serious abs when we're done all this. I walk with her. Its not lost on her that the scene is alike an owner curbing his pet. She asks for a rest and some water when we reach her desk some five minutes later. "Rest, yes. Water, later." She takes the crop in her mouth, and we head back. She's drooling again. I encourage her along the way. I also am astounded at her body, taking it in for the first time in all its glory. Full, fat breasts swaying back and forth as she scoots along. Sculpted legs, the kind with the perfect curve of hamstrings that might be expected of a dancer or cheerleader. Strong back. And the feet! Small for her size.. maybe a size 4. Manicured, soft. She clinches her toes as we scoot along.

10 Minutes later and we're back in my office.

"Poppy dear, where's your vibrator?" She hates me for asking - her eyes betray her. We repeat the process back to her office to retrieve it. 20 minutes this time, and she's exhausted. When we get back, she gets her water, and is grateful. She's sweating from the workout.

"Tell me about your vibrator."

"Master?"

"How did you get off on it?" She's embarrassed by the question.

"Poppy, trust me. No secrets here. I will find out, you know - one way or the other." She chooses not to concede the point.

"OK then. Scoot over to the couch, and attach the restraints to your wrists and ankles, then, scootch over to the closet." She's again puzzled, but complies. Once there, I stood her up, and fastened her restraints to the top and bottom of the closet door frame, facing into the closet. She reacts to the sound of the vibrator when I turn it on.

"You see Poppy, its one thing to be in control of the vibrator. But its totally different when someone else controls it." I start exploring her body, varying the speed and amplitude of the device as I test her, noting the points on her body that are most receptive. She cried out when, at high speed, I touch her anus. She pulls against the restraints.

I touch her pussy. She's wet.

"So Poppy, we're going to see, since you like toys, how long you can hold it inside your pussy. Ready?" Not waiting for an answer, I work it into her. She's pretty wet, so it goes in easily. "The game is for you to keep it inside you." When I release my hands, she instinctively clinches it with her pussy, trying to keep it in. That I'd burdened it by tying weight in the form of a water bottle did not help her cause. Try though she might, the vibrator inevitably slipped from her pussy to the floor. Failure to hold it resulted in a spanking, this time with the crop. Firm, noisy, but certainly not breaking skin. When the skin of her cheeks turned pink, I stopped.

"Ready to try again?" I waited for answer. Not getting one, I smacked her again.

"Yes SIR owwww..." This time, I turned the vibrator on, to a medium setting, and teased her with it before inserting.

"Please sir... you're driving me fucking nuts... please let me cum."

"I suppose you'll cum if you can hold onto it long enough, eh?" With that, I inserted it once again. Again it slips out, and again I use the crop.. On the insides of her thighs, hamstrings, sides of her rib cage... she pulls against the restraints in vain attempt to avoid the crop's sting.

Give her credit, With each round, she fought hard to keep it inside her long enough to orgasm, but failed. Each time it dropped, she would cry out in frustration.

"Thats OK poppy, we have lots of time. Lets try again." Before starting, I approached her. Hands on her hip bones, my hardon pressed against the crack of her ass. I whispered in her ear. "Of course, this vibrator, for all its benefits, lacks the warmth of the hard cock of your lover, eh? Can you imagine him thrusting into you, exposed and vulnerable like this? Your only ability to resist... or to encourage.. is your limited range of motion because of these restraints" I stroke her gently, lazily with my fingertips from her wrists to her ribcage... "Imagine him toying with you... his cock pressed against the entrance to your pussy.. and all you can do is press down to the limits of your restraints..." With that, I pulled my cock away, teased her pussy with it, then used my lips and fingers to seek out the most sensitive parts of her body... lower back, as it turns out, before re-inserting the vibrator into her pussy, and turning its speed up.

She's crying out, rocking her hips to and fro... trying to use the vibrator to cum. Shifting back and forth, of course, has the effect of swinging the water bottle weight around, making it that much more difficult to hold the vibrator in place. I cannot imagine her desperation as she fights to keep it inside her, and her anguish as it slips out once again.

Twenty minutes later, try though she might, she simply cannot keep the vibrator insider her any longer. She's frustrated, sweating, exhausted, and begging. Its not clear whether she wants the vibrator, my cock, or to be released. But I have an appointment, and need to leave.

So, Poppy - no more toys at home, agreed?

"Yes Master." I release her and send her on her way, but not before massaging her wrists and ankles and the sore pink flesh enflamed by the crop. She gathered her things and, before leaving, turned to me, pulled me close, her hips grinding against my hard dick, and kissed me deeply. At some point, one had to wonder who was denying whom?

Cici:

Thursday, 9 PM:

She had invited me to bring a bottle of bourbon to the spa this night to share with she and her co-workers. I obliged.

In retrospect, I think the invitation was part of her courting ritual. I was being assessed by her friends prior to her accepting an offer of a date. Actually, we hit it off well. At least I think we did. Lots got lost in translation, intentionally or otherwise. But we laughed, and she agreed to join me on my house hunting adventures (yes, it was getting time to move out of the hotel.. more on that later), and she wanted to learn golf. As we worked through the bourbon, our conversation led to Poppy.

"So, she's your girlfriend?"

"No. Co-worker. Maybe even a protege. Brilliant, gorgeous. Also vain, corrupt, petty, fragile. For the time being, she is required to do anything I say, at any time. I'm trying to teach her humility, and to accept her own sense of worth regarding her sensuality." Not sure Cici knows all these words.. her english is limited.

"So - you're trying to teach her?"

"Something like that." A thought occurred to me.

"Cici - do you do housecalls?"

"No outcall for massage."

"What about for personal grooming?"

"Please explain... I do not understand." I turned and looked her in the eye.

"This sounds silly, but I wonder if you might come to our office on Saturday and provide Poppy with a wax of her pussy?"

"WHAT??!"

"I know you do it at the spa... Its right there on your menu. I want you to wax her pussy. Will you do it at my office Saturday?"

"This is something she wants?"

"She wants to please me, and I want it."

Cici pauses and considers. I think at the end of the day, her curiosity got the best of her.

"Not Saturday. Too busy. Sunday." Sunday it is.

Cici walked me to my car, wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave me a soulful kiss... lips exploring lips, tongues dancing...it was a long, sensual kiss... my cock grew, pushed into her hip... she ground into it briefly, then broke the kiss and spoke: "See - you need girlfriend!" With that, she laughed squeezed my cock, left me to my frustration, and headed back inside. Golf date Saturday evening.

Friday:

Poppy had been a bit on pins and needles around me, for good reason. Her recent transgressions, her instinct to fight, and my ability to 'de-claw' her through access to her computer had her off balance. Still no payment for my cash outlay, still hadn't shaved her pussy. I texted her: "Sunday, 10 AM"

Later that day, she'd received another package, which she now knew she was obliged to open upon receipt. Inside, a bright orange string bikini and a jeweled butt plug. Jeff saw it, and barely contained his laughter. Ian heard the ruckus and raced over... too late. "Whats up, mates?"

Jeff: "Nothing, Ian - just a youtube clip. I'll send it if you like." Ian grunts and turns away. Poppy shoots a look of grateful appreciation to Jeff.

I sent a text to Poppy: "10 AM Sunday at the office. Acknowledge your required presence." The response was in the affirmative, and immediate.

Saturday:

She insisted I pick her up at the spa. I did not press. Swung by at about 6:30, just before sunset. We were going to the local golf club... it had a lighted driving range. Warm enough, but the wind was howling. She was wearing a loose fitting top with spaghetti straps, I'm assuming a strapless bra, and silk slacks made of loose, flowing material from her hips to her ankles. The material swirled with the wind; it was very thin, and outlined the perfect form of whatever part of her legs and ass the wind was blowing against. She claimed not to be an athlete, but had the build of one, and the game came naturally to her. She was wearing 3" heels, and the length of her slacks were designed for them.

"You'll have to take them off, Cici - you'll never swing a club wearing those things." She complies; bends at the hips - her breasts try to spill out. She is gorgeous. She also catches me staring, and smiles. Later on, when we're putting, the wind is playing havoc with her slacks. I get too close and step on the hem while she's walking. The effect is to 'pants' her... they slide halfway down her hip. My god, she's perfect. Flat belly, tight thighs. Sexy bikini bottoms... thin threads create a waist band that connects a very, very small triangle of material covering her pussy. She could be a model with those hips. She's shocked at first, ready to accuse me. But, I guess the look on my face is equally surprised... she relaxes, smiles. Tugs her pants back on, and drags me back to the matts. She loves hitting golf balls.

Afterwards, we found a bench overlooking the 18th green. Warm night. The breeze had calmed down, and the moon gave enough light for me to admire her form. She snuggled into me and we chatted for a long time. I really did like her. She seemed very curious, very innocent, but also asked penetrating questions - questions well crafted, requiring candid, thoughtful answers. At some point late in the evening, we kissed. Deep, hard. Exploring. My hand found her breast, which she happily yielded. It was sensitive to the touch, and she relished in it. She slid her hand from my chest to my cock, hard as stone.

Cici: "Oh! it is already hard! Why?" I had to laugh in spite of myself. Was she really this innocent?

Me: "I think most guys get hard when being kissed so wonderfully by a beautiful woman." She does not see herself as beautiful.

I continue: "And, the scent of perfume, if its agreeable, the soft, yielding of a woman's curves pressing into her man, a sensual kiss - all these things make a man's cock grow hard."

"And you Steve? You think my kiss sexy? My body?" Her hand is still on my cock.

"Yeah. Yeah I do. You are a good soul. Sexy. Nice kisser."

"But not here," she says... "Not in public place."

"Sometimes sex outside makes it even better."

"We could be caught."

"Part of the thrill!" She considers this, demurs. No.

"No sex here," she says, but has not released my cock. She releases the belt, the zipper, slips her hand inside (I'd given up on underwear most of the time by now, after my experience with Candy and Emily). "But this brings you pleasure, yes?" Yes.

She slides to her knees and looks up at me as she continues her ministrations. Pressing my cock against my abdomen with the palm of her hand, rubbing it against me; Using her finger tips to encircle it and pull along its length; cupping my balls, scraping them with a fingernail, studying my response. She leans in and kisses it, then licks, then tries to wrap her tongue around my cock head. The warmth of her tongue in contrast to her hand is shocking, and incredibly stimulating. Then, using her fingernails to poke and prod and, finally, gripping it with the fat of her hand, pulsing it and stroking it up and down... She felt it coming.

"Yes - its ok if I do this?" Yes. As I start to cum, she takes my cock and points it away from us. Lord knows where the jizz landed; after two weeks of sexual torment with Poppy, I was at my wit's end. Not sure the last time I came so hard... Cici, pleased, zips me up, fastens my belt, climbs into my lap and and curls into me. We talk for another hour or two before I take her back to the spa.

Sunday, 9 AM:

Poppy beats me to the office. She's on her square, dressed in the bikini. Butt plug inserted, crop in her mouth.

Now, maybe you've had a slave before. Me, never - treading new ground here. I think the way it works is that they do what you say, sometimes reluctantly, and you punish them when they don't, but they don't ever take initiative. Right? And if they do take initiative, then what? Are they being obedient, or disobedient? A question for sex slave philosophers, I suppose. For me, it was an extraordinary sight, and had me immediately aroused.

To be continued...