Hu's the Boss Ch. 02

Mike's weekend did not go well. After he got home late, he couldn't stay hard with his wife Stephanie when she tried to treat him with his regular Friday evening blowjob. The stage was set: she eased him into his La-Z-Boy, put an Arberg 10 year in his hands and was on her knees between his legs, wearing a set of lacy purple lingerie. She slobbered at Mike's cock for at least half an hour, and while he had moments of perking up, couldn't maintain it.

Was it having orgasmed earlier at Linda's command? The stress? Probably, but also comparing Stephanie's frumpy, slightly saggy, middle aged energy to Linda's tight body and sexy intensity, no matter how cruel she'd been, wasn't a fair contest. It got so bad he stormed up and off to his home office, where he started to figure out how to send the crypto to Linda.

Stephanie wasn't one to aggressively monitor their finances, but he'd have to figure this out. Maybe a bank account on the side to fund this blackmail operation.

Sunday night, in his work email, he saw a meeting invitation sent to him from Linda. It was an innocent title blocking off most of his Friday afternoon: "Client Offsite - Four Seasons." That terrified Mike, but he wondered if that meant he was in the clear from Linda's power plays the first four days of the week. He couldn't fall asleep until three in the morning, wondering.

And when he got into his office and sat down at his desk a few hours later, Linda strolled in immediately behind him with two coffees in paper cups. He stared down at her. She smiled, checked over her shoulder, and then put her mouth over one of the cups to drop a massive glob of spit into it.

She set it on his desk and continued to smile at him, sipping her own.

Mike looked down at the solitary cup of coffee, then back at Linda, rigid in her spot. Understanding the expectation, he reached forward, picked it up, and started drinking it. If he was being honest, he couldn't really taste anything different in the hot liquid, but they both knew it wasn't about that.

In a low voice that nobody could possibly hear outside of the office, Linda growled, "This is the part where you say, 'Thank you, Ma'am'."

Mike hesitated. This 19-year old couldn't be serious. But she wasn't cracking a smile.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Mike bumbled out quietly.

"Thanks, Mike!" Linda belted out loudly for anyone outside Mike's office, spinning on her heel. "Happy Monday to you too." She walked out his door, and that was the last he heard from her on Monday.

Tuesday morning, Linda came back into Mike's office with two cups of coffee again. She spit again. He drank it and thanked her.

"Thanks, Mike!" As she yelled it this time and left, she discreetly threw a small plastic bag on his desk. He quickly slid it off and inspected it more closely with his back to the door. As he removed and unfolded a small piece of dark fabric, he realized it was a dark green mesh thong, tiny and light on his thick fingers. It was accompanied by a small folded note, printed on computer paper:

"My training thong from my past week's worth of spin classes. Your turn to wear, all week. Expect random inspections in office."

Mike hesitated briefly, but then the thought of being unemployed and everything that came with that compelled him to close his office blinds and squeeze into them. They had a fair amount of stretch, but the size difference between Linda's round, petite butt and Mike's beefy six-four, 230-pound frame was stark. The back wedged tight into his ass crack, and his cock couldn't even fully tuck in the front.

He wore it the rest of the day, not daring to change until he was in his car to head home.

He wore it Wednesday too, even right before his regional sales meeting with a handful of his directors. He had his office blinds closed to practice some standing, opening remarks, when Linda brushed in.

"Linda, please..." Mike begged. "Not now."

"I can be out in sixty seconds if you let me," Linda replied curtly. "Bend over for inspection."

Mike rolled his eyes and leaned forward slightly against his glass window, like the cops were about to frisk him. As Linda starting to tug at his pants, he loosened his belt to speed things along for her.

"I'm wearing it," Mike insisted.

"Great," she replied. "One more thing, then."

She pulled his pants down and they dropped to his ankles.

Linda was confident Mike would be wearing the panties, and he was. But she had another goal in mind as well. With one finger, she moved the rear of the panties to the side and produced from her blazer pocket a small black butt plug, no larger than a small tulip bulb.

"What the fuck?!" Mike lurched and hissed, trying to keep his voice down, as he felt it start to tunnel into him.

Linda gave his beefy ass a smack, surprisingly painful for such a small hand. "Relax, Mike. Just a tiny butt plug."

"My presentation is in 20 minutes," Mike scowled, wincing as his body adjusted.

"I know -- it'd be a shame if you didn't have this in there then," Linda replied calmly, pushing against Mike's asshole until she felt it was secure. "There, all set! Knock 'em dead. Don't mind me but I'll just stay in here until you leave. Wouldn't want you sneaking it out prematurely."

For the next 20 minutes before his presentation, Mike breathed deeply to let his body adjust to the foreign object in him. Linda stood in the corner of his office, mostly on her phone, occasionally glancing up to make sure Mike wasn't reaching into his pants to pull the plug out. He could stand okay, but walking was different. As he headed to the conference room for his presentation, he knew he was waddling slightly, and just hoped it wasn't too obvious.

Twenty minutes later, Mike led the presentation in the conference room. His speech was good, but he paced a lot less than he normally did, and a few times he found himself losing his train of thought as his body continued to acclimate. The presentation was primarily for directors, but a few interns and other junior staffers lined the back walls, out of the way where they could quietly take notes. Linda was among them, and of all the times Mike looked at her, she never even cracked a smile.

It was almost worse that way. It made him feel like he was going crazy. Like her games were all in his head.

Immediately after, he rushed back to his office, keeping the blinds closed to push the plug out. He threw it into his desk drawer angrily.

Linda hadn't escalated anything Thursday beyond the typical spitting in Mike's coffee and checking briefly to make sure he was still wearing the thong he'd been given. But he was nervous for Friday. Linda had blocked off Friday afternoon for him as a "new business meeting" at the Four Seasons down the street. Earlier in the day, she'd slipped him another computer printed slip of paper, simply "Room #1017" printed on it with a keycard. When he headed out to the hotel, he noticed Linda wasn't at her desk, and had presumably left before him.

He made a beeline through the hotel lobby to the elevator, then arrived at room 1017. He took a deep breath, entered, quietly closed it behind him, and looked around. It was a large suite, with a sprawling sitting room and kitchenette separate from the bedroom. Off the main hall, Linda was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs in the sitting area, sipping a glass of water. She was wearing a dark blue pantsuit with white blouse under. Her long dark hair was pulled back in the usual messy pony tail, maybe with an extra lock falling across her face. Maybe it was the flattering fit, but Mike realized she was the only woman he knew who could make a pantsuit look good.

They looked at each other for a long minute, until Linda finally spoke.

"This is your home turf, right Mike?" Linda asked. "This is what you do? Entertain clients?"

"Well..." Mike paused, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Usually not in hotel rooms. Lobbies and restaurants, maybe. The golf course...if you want I can help you work on your swing so that..."

"...Okay, so..." Linda cut in and waved a hand as if the next part should be obvious. "...entertain me."

"What?" Mike shook his head, confused.

"However you do it. Sing, jokes, juggle." Linda paused, then smiled and leaned in slightly. "Dance?"

"I don't dance," Mike grumbled. "And that's not how it works and you know it."

Linda set her water on the table next to her, leaning forward and clasping her hands.

"Mikey," Linda watched him squirm at the nickname. "Imagine that I'm the most important client of your life. That your entire career and livelihood hinges on making me happy."

Mike shifted again, realizing that that was the reality at the moment.

"Dance for me." She crossed her legs and put both hands on her knee.

Mike paused for another five seconds, but in typical middle-aged white guy fashion, he started shuffling side to side and snapping. Linda smiled. It was a good start, she could offer some guidance from here.

"Okay, okay," she pretended to dance along with him in her chair. "Put some hips into it, Mike."

He rocked his hips more and more to the side.

"I know you've got more than that!" Linda cheered him on, and he started awkwardly gyrating his hips in response.

"Ow, ow!" Linda howled mockingly. "Now take it off, Mikey!" She pulled out her phone and queued up some bass heavy club beats.

Mike paused for another moment, before Linda raised her eyebrows and flared her nostrils, enough to make it clear she was serious. He slid his suit jacket off, reaching for his gold power tie next.

"Leave the tie on," Linda clarified. "Lose the rest."

Whenever Mike slowed down the dance to unbutton or loosen his clothing, Linda reminded him to keep dancing.

"You can strip and work it at the same time, Mike." She reminded him. "I'm sure you've seen the girls at the strip club do it."

He'd only been a handful of times, but he understood the order.

And when he got down to Linda's dark green sports thong he'd been wearing...he stopped stripping again.

"Did I say you were done, Mikey?" Linda asked.

He guessed it didn't matter at this point. His cock was already poking out from the thong, and she'd seen it before anyway. He slid the thong to his ankles, and there he was: a burly, middle aged man dancing for his life in nothing but a power tie in front of a 19 year old girl half his size.

Linda whistled and clapped mockingly as he continued to move and his muscles and fat and limp penis jiggled around his body.

"Is that how you dance for your wife?" Linda asked. Mike winced at the question.

"Please don't mention my wife," he pleaded quietly, barely audible over the obnoxious music Linda was playing on her phone, still shuffling.

Linda reached behind her on the chair and grabbed a throw pillow, whipping it hard at Mike, who caught it in his stomach.

"I'll mention whoever the fuck I want," Linda hissed. "Now show me how you fuck her."

Mike stared back at Linda confused, who raised her eyebrows again as she looked from the pillow Mike was holding to Mike, and he realized what she was telling him to do.

Mike brought the pillow to his crotch and began thrusting into it and humping it pitifully. Linda shook her head.

"I don't believe for a second that's how you fuck her, Mike." Linda sneered. "You seem like a missionary guy. Put it on the ground. Put your back into it."

Mike dropped the pillow to the ground and lowered himself onto the carpet, bouncing his hips up and down as he held himself in a partial pushup position.

"Make the noises you make when you fuck her too," Linda added.

Mike didn't think he actually made that many noises, but knew that wasn't what Linda wanted, so he started groaning ridiculously as he continued slamming his hips up and down.

"Oooh, ugghhhh, yeahhh....oh...." he attempted.

Linda sprang up from her chair and moved quickly toward Mike. She reached down and grabbed the end of his tie he'd kept around his neck, pulling on it until he started choking and came up to all fours.

"Good boy!" Linda said to him. "Come!" Mouth open for every breath he could get with the tie tight around his throat, Mike crawled after Linda like a dog. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of air or her sexy body he knew was under that fitted pantsuit, but even as he crawled, he felt his swinging cock stiffening between his legs. He just hoped she wouldn't notice.

She did. And seeing his hard cock, and entire body totally under her control...she felt so powerful. And so turned on by that feeling of power.

"Look at you now, Mike!" Linda laughed again. "Naked with the gook finance bitch! Just like you imagined, right?"

Mike said nothing.

"Oh wait, the gook finance bitch should be naked too, to complete the fantasy, right?" Linda asked. She slid her blazer off, switching the tie leash between her hands before folding the blazer and setting it on a desk. She pulled the tie leash up tighter to bring Mike up onto his knees in front of her.

"Undress me."

Kneeling in front of her, Mike leaned down and slid each of Linda's heels off. His hands moved toward the button of her slacks, and he looked up timidly one more time to make sure this was what she meant. She nodded down at him.

Gingerly, he unbuttoned her pants and slid the zipper down. His big hands delicately worked their thumbs into the waist and shimmied her pants down to her ankles. He felt Linda put a small hand on the back of his head for balance as she stepped out, revealing her smooth, lean legs and wearing simple dark blue bikini panties.

"Shirt," she ordered next. He begun unbuttoning Linda's silky, white blouse from the bottom, her moving the tie leash between her hands to let him slide the sleeves off, leaving her standing in her dark blue bra to match her underwear.

Did she feel a little vulnerable wearing less in front of Mike? Sure. But she saw he was already turned on. And she was still in control. It was fun to be this uninhibited.

Mike tried to look away some, but kept glancing back up at the golden, perfect body in front of him, feeling his cock harden further. Even as she was here ruining his life, there was no debating that she was incredible. None of her assets were large, but they were tight, and perfect, and round. Could she really blame him for having thought about her under his desk?

"Better, right?" Linda asked. "Seems like it's working for you." She lightly prodded the underside of his balls with her foot, making his thick eight inches lurch even more at the contact.

Staring down at the carpet, he didn't notice Linda studying the cock more closely. It really was thick, probably the thickest she'd seen of the handful of guys she'd been with between her high school boyfriend and some freshman year hookups.

With a sudden tug at the leash, she brought him back down to all fours and began walking him again. Taking a first step, she looked over her shoulder, down at Mike and down at her back foot, up on its toes and presenting her soles to him.

"Kiss my feet as we go," she demanded.

Mike crawled after her around the huge hotel room, keep his head low so he could plant his lips on the underside of her foot each time she presented.

After a few minutes and a lap around most of the suite, she turned around to face Mike.

"My feet are tired..." she remarked moving quickly back toward him again, throwing a leg over his broad, hairy back and straddling it. "Give me a ride!" She slapped his butt once, and he lurched forward with the small girl on his back. She was so light.

"Gidyup, Mikey!" Linda cheered him on. "The gook intern is riding you cowgirl now."

Her heels hooked into his hips, she steadied herself by still holding onto his tie like reins, which meant when she lost balance and wobbled, it suddenly became very hard for him to breathe. He tried to keep his back as flat and steady as possible for her.

After a couple moments, Mike realized the tugs on his tie leash were to direct his head, and where he should crawl. She steered him around the room aimlessly for a few minutes, coaxing him like a horse.

"Gooood boy," she whispered, digging her fingers into his shoulders and leaning forward so much he felt her bra brush across the back of his neck and head. "I'm glad to know you're not as dumb as you look. Just needed some training, right?"

Eventually she directed him into the large, white bathroom. The cold hard tile hurt Mike's knees, but he kept going, straight to the toilet bowl at the far end of the bathroom. He stopped in front of it, unsure what Linda wanted next.

"Gidyup, more," Linda placed a stinging smack across his ass, urging him forward more so his head hung over and looked down in the porcelain bowl. Her weight lifted off Mike's back, and he felt Linda's small hand pushing on the back of his head to send it down.

He resisted briefly...she was so small compared to him. But in the reflection of the water, he could almost see his life falling apart if Linda blacklisted him from working ever again. Besides, the bowl looked and smelled clean enough, but still...

...done with weighing the pros and cons, he submitted to her push and dunked his head in, closing his eyes on approach.

"Bring a big mouthful up horsey," he heard Linda say. Mike lapped at the water in the bowl, holding it in his mouth. Linda pulled his head up by a handful of his salt and pepper hair and looked him in the eye. "Show me."

Mike opened his mouth to show he had a big mouthful of the toilet water in his mouth.

"Good boy..." Linda stared into him. "Swallow."

Closing his eyes, Mike quickly forced the water down his throat. It really didn't taste like much...maybe a bit of cleaner. But they both knew it wasn't about that.

"Ugh, you're disgusting, aren't you?" the tie wrapped around her hand and keeping him on his knees and at her command, she shook her head.

Linda stared directly into Mike's eyes until he looked away in shame.

"Lay on your back now," she directed him. He lowered himself as quickly as she gave him slack in his tie leash, wincing slightly as the cold tile chilled the entire back side of his body. The bathroom lights and walls were so bright, they backlit Linda's incredible form standing over him.

He was terrified, and still so hard. And she saw it.

That made it all the more fun to lower herself onto Mike's face, sliding her panties to the side and wriggling herself into a kneeling position until his nose felt snug in her ass cheeks and he was staring up her back. His nose pinched firmly in her butt, he could only breathe through his mouth, onto her warm, moist mound that was resting on it.

"Mmmmm...fuck...lick this pussy, Mikey..." Linda groaned slightly, arching her back as she rubbed herself forward and backward across his face, digging her nails into his big, hairy chest, relishing not having to care if he enjoyed it or was comfortable.

She'd been raised to keep her emotions in check. Control the situation. Don't get too down; don't get too happy. But for the first time, as she examined this big, faceless, hairy, pasty body squirming under her, she really started to savor this and what it all meant.

Mike symbolized every obstacle Linda had found herself working against in her life. He was a racist, entitled, fratty, corporate bro; and he symbolized every tired, racist joke she'd heard as a kid; every comment about yellow skin and slanty eyes, the peers expecting her to be studious and quiet, and diminishing every academic and professional achievement as something that should be expected.

And now he was reduced to a plaything between her legs.

Mike writhed under Linda and could feel he was throbbing hard. He wanted to touch himself, at least get some release, but he felt keeping his hands at his sides would somehow maintain some semblance of dignity.