I Bam-Boob-Able My Boss

I knew that Mr. Quint, a more masculine guy than his name might suggest, called me into his office with the intention of firing me.

And while he's cocky, white and 51, I couldn't blame him. He's a partner in a prestigious District of Columbia law firm, where competence and conservative appearance are of utmost importance.

I have neither of those qualities.

Twenty-seven with a sketchy work history, I was only hired a week earlier because of a Covid induced labor shortage. To be honest, my legal secretary skills are as poor as my uncaring attitude. Those alone were reason enough for Mr. Quint to can me.

But the real problem was my appearance. The most striking thing about me is my red hair. It's natural, but I kick it up a few notches to bright red because that's just the way I am. My hair color would be more appropriate on a stage.

In addition, I have spectacular 36D breasts. They're natural, nothing I've juiced up.

A lot of women would try to hide such breasts in a business environment, but I'm not like most women. I'm proud and I'm bold, so I wear bras that prop my breasts up and at the same time allow them to bounce when I walk. Naturally I wear fitted blouses to emphasize my bosom.

Why? Because my showcased boobs award me an immediate increase in status over all other women around me. They are jealous of my breasts and of the way I feel so comfortable showing them off. It's their problem, not mine.

As for the men, what can I say? They are complete suckers for boobs like mine. They have a terrible time looking me in the eye as opposed to my boobs, and they often forget what they wanted to say to me. Men are such children.

When called into Mr. Quint's office, I brought a small FedEX package with me, and sat down in front of his desk.

Did I mention I enjoy wearing short skirts and the sheerest nylons, too? Well, I do.

"I want to apologize," I said to Mr. Quint before he had a chance to speak.

"For what?" he asked.

I think he was hoping that I'd say that I knew that I was wrong for the position and I would quit without a fuss. No such luck for him.

"There were two small FedEx packages that arrived this morning," I said, "and I think I opened the wrong one. It's for you and it was marked 'personal'."

He gave me a cautious look.

So I came up at the edge of his desk and shook the content of the small box out in my hand. Then ceremoniously dropped it onto his desk.

It made quite a bit of noise hitting the surface of the desk because it was stainless steel.

A stainless steel cock cage.

Mr. Quint didn't say a word or change his expression. But his stone face turned the deep red of an old cabernet.

I continued to lean over his desk, offering him a prime view of my generous cleavage. He looked everywhere but there, as though it might blind him if he so much as took a peak.

"I had no idea you were such a fun guy, Mr. Quint," I said with a conspiratorial smile. "But you called me in, is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

He couldn't speak.

"If it's not too personal of me asking," I said to break the silence, "is that cock cage something you bought to play with yourself, or did you wife demand that you order it so she could put you in chastity?"

No answer.

"Look," I said, "we're both adults here and I'm aware of the different needs men have. And you're no doubt aware of my economic needs. I don't see any reason why we can't work something out."

Yeah, a little old-fashioned blackmail.

"I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the best legal secretary," I continued. "On the other hand, I'm a talented key-holder for locked up cuckolds. If you're looking for an attractive young woman, one with a sensational rack, to take control of your sex life, I can be that woman. In return, of course, for continued employment while my still not doing a very good job."

There was continued silence from him.

"Let me open the cock cage up while I give you some time to think about it," I said.

I picked the device up, and began to loosen a couple of the screws. Then, just because I enjoy beinging a bitch, I licked the end of it while looking Mr. Quint in the eye.

I finally got a reaction. He squirmed in his chair, his cock no doubt having started to swell.

"You know this model is for beginners, Mr. Quint," I said. "More advanced models feature sharp barbs on the inside of the tube. They must really hurt."

He still couldn't speak.

"Oh look, Mr. Quint, here are the two keys to the lock to your cock cage," I said, emphasizing the last three words. "Would you mind if I slipped one onto the gold chain around my neck to see how it would look?"

He didn't say anything, so I just went ahead and did it.

"I think the chain is a little long," I told him, "because your cock cage key falls way down into the deep valley between my breasts."

I unbuttoned two buttons on my blouse to give him a better view.

"See what I mean?"

He squirmed in his chair some more. I can't remember ever having as much fun before in my life.

"But I think there are times when you'd like to have the key much higher up on my chest so everyone could see it. You know, when it would make your cock hard to have people think that I'm your wife or girlfriend and that I'm advertising for a cocksman to cuckold you."

He was still mute. I was wondering if he'd had a stroke except that he kept squirming in his chair.

"I'm going to lock the door to your office, Mr. Quint, so we can slip your cock into your cock cage right away. I can just imagine how many months, if you not years, you've been waiting for this moment. How eager you must be."

A little smile broke out on his lips, and a bead of sweat slipped down his forehead.

After locking the door I walked over to Mr. Quint, and taking his hand, lifted him out of his chair. Then I pushed him back so his butt was against his desk. I got down on my knees and began to unzip his pants.

"You're going to have to jerk yourself off, of course, Mr. Quint, to be able to shrink your junk to be able to fit it into the cage. I suppose it would help you get off if you got to see more of my breasts."

"Well?" I demanded a response when he said nothing.

"I'm tired of this ridiculous silence," I finally snarled. "Tell me you want to see them or I'm leaving."

"Yeah... yes...yes, I do want to see your breasts," he stuttered.

"Good. You've wanted to see them since the moment you first saw me, haven't you?" I said as I squeezed a little lube into his hand.

"Yes. I've lusted over them," he murmured, seemingly in a different state of mind. "Just last night I jerked off thinking of them."

"That's the kind of voluntary confession we like to hear, Mr. Quint. Now get stroking while I bounce my titties in front of your face."

He didn't need any encouragement to get to work on his already stiff cock.

"You're going to love being locked up, Mr. Quint, it's going to give you so much pleasure."

He stroked even harder, a half-crazed look in his eye.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Our group meeting is starting right now, Mr. Quint," somebody half-shouted through the door. "We need you right away."

I started laughing to myself, looking at poor Mr. Quint, his pants down at his ankles, his stiff cock in his hand.

"I'm having a personal emergency," he stuttered, trying desperately to control his unusually high-pitched voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"A personal emergency? I there anything I can do, sir?"

"No, no, no, I'm taking care of it. I'll be there in a few minutes."

The person left, and Mr Quint got back to furiously stroking his erection.

"I bet it will help you if I pinch my nipples," I said. So I did. But I mostly did it for myself because I love a little nipple pain.

It was so much fun watching Mr. Quint make a fool of himself. And pinching my super sensitive nipples is what did the trick.

Mr. Quint finally shot a huge load of hot cum, grunting like a beast as he did.

"Get it all, get every last drop out," I ordered him. "Do it for these boobs."

He continued to stroke until he'd completely dried up the well.

With his cock and balls suddenly shrunk post ejaculation, I was able to easily slip his new cock cage in place. He was so sated that he didn't fully comprehend what was happening and thus didn't resist.

I slipped the two keys around my gold necklace when I was done.

"I'm going to let the keys hang down deep in my cleavage because we want to be discreet, don't we, Mr. Quint?" I said. "At least for a couple of days."

He mumbled a response I didn't understand.

Then I buttoned myself up and headed for the door. "Call me when you need me again," I said. I gave him a big wink.

Mr. Quint was a sorry sight. Pants at his ankles with droplets of cum on them, hands sticky with lube and cum, and a shiny new chastity cage locking up his cock and balls.

'How the mighty have fallen', I laughed to myself.

I wasn't surprised when I got a call from Mr. Quint that evening about 8 pm.

"Miss Kelly, I'm sorry about the unfortunate incident this afternoon in my office. We need to speak right away." He had regained his composure and was using an authoritative voice in an attempt to be in control.

Good luck to him with that.

"I was gonna meet up with some girlfriends, and I can't possibly break that date with them," I said, playing ignorant and innocent.

"It's urgent," he responded.

"Thursday or Friday night would be better for me," I said, playing dumber than dumb.

"No, it's must be tonight," he insisted, unhappy that I didn't acknowledge the obvious importance of such a meeting. "The Peninsula Hotel at 9 pm. Room 507. I'll send a car for you."

"Ooooh, the Peninsula, that's a very nice hotel," I swooned. "I guess I can make it. But I don't need a car service." I sure wasn't going to let him have my address.

"Please don't be late."

"I'll get there when I get there, Mr. Quint. Don't be so bossy after work hours," I parried. "But I'll wear something low cut just for you. We both know how much you love my tits."

I hung up before he could reply.

I went to my closet and picked out my most sexy but sophisticated emerald green dress. I accessorized with a gold chain and a cock cage key.

Mr. Quint greeted me at the door of his room and was immediately taken with my bosoms. I arched my back a bit, shook my chest a bit, and smiled to encourage him to enjoy the view.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" I taunted.

He nodded stupidly and then he started his charm offensive. All smiles, he gave me a quick tour of the hotel's views of historic sites in the distance, then prepared a scotch & soda for me.

But he soon got down to business.

"Kelly, I think that we maybe got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't know what you mean," I said, giving him a puzzled look. "I love my job. I'm just not very good at it."

He had a hard time deciding whether to concentrate on my bright red lips or my gorgeous boobs.

"Let's cut the crap," he finally said. "You're not a good fit at the firm, so let's see if we can't resolve this quickly. I'm prepared to offer you $10,000 to in return for your pretending that you never worked for us, ever met me, and for the return of the cock cage keys."

"That's an awful lot of money for a young girl like me," I said to give him false hope.

"It certainly is," he said, thinking his had me, and pulling out a thick wad of 100s. "All cash, too, no taxes, no questions."

"But," I replied innocently, about to set the hook, "you made such a big impression on me that I think it would take at least $100,000 for me to forget you."

"That's outrageous!" he half shouted before he quickly calmed himself down.

"Besides, I really don't want to leave my job. I think you and I are simpatico." I giggled and gave him a wink and a boob shake.

He frowned, knowing exactly what I meant, and that I was playing him.

"Besides, I thought you liked having me around. You've spent enough time looking at these," I said, lifting both my boobs in my hands.

He was spellbound once again. Like a little kid.

"And what about your cock cage, Mr. Quint? Who would be in charge if I wasn't around. Do you have a wife who can handle you? Or maybe a mistress?"

He turned bright red again.

To taunt him, I used my index finger and thumb to lift the gold chain and key from the valley of my big breasts, and held the key out for him to see.

"That's actually quite an attractive key," he said sweetly, "do you mind if I come over and have a closer look?"

"Of course not," I said. "The keys feel great against my boobs."

Mr. Quint came over. Then, as slyly as he could, he grabbed the chain and ripped and the keys from around my neck.

"What are you doing, you bastard?!" I protested.

"Yes!" he shouted in triumph.

He moved to the other side of the room and pulled down his pants.

"I can't wait to get this fucking thing off, you bitch!" he snarled.

"You've really changed, Mr. Quint," I complained. "I thought we'd become friends."

But things weren't going so well for him.

"Having trouble getting the key into the lock, Mr. Quint?" I said, continuing to play the dummy. "You know what, maybe I made a mistake and was wearing the cock cage key from one of the cages of my other cuckolds. How could I have made a silly mistake like that?"

It was then that Mr. Quint realized that he was in deeper trouble than he'd thought. Once again he was caught with a big problem while his pants were down around his ankles.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow, Mr. Quint," I said as I scrunched up my glorious boobs, pointed them in his direction for a few seconds, and then walked out the door.

Things were awkward, to say the least, at work the next day.

While in a group of several other employees, I had a question for Mr. Quint.

"You seem to be walking a little funny, Mr. Quint, did you pull a groin or something? I would be happy to book a therapist for you."

He turned red, said he heard his phone ringing, and dashed off to his office.

Everyone thought he'd behaved in a peculiar manner.

For the rest of the day, indeed, the rest of the week, Mr. Quint carried on as though nothing had happened between us. I carried on, too, with my sloppy work, which was being commented on more frequently by other employees. They couldn't figure out why I hadn't been canned.

I got a wonderful surprise the following Monday when a gorgeous blonde in her middle 30s strode into the office and announced that she was Mrs. Quint.

Everything about her was perfect. Her face, her make-up, her hair, her body, her outfit. A 10 in every respect.

I was so impressed that Mr. Quint could have ever landed her. She was a real thoroughbred.

"You must be Kelly, my husband's new secretary," she said pleasantly. Although I could see her taking in my beautiful breasts and not being very happy about their existence. Women can be so jealous.

"I've come in to surprise my husband with the news that I've made reservations for us to renew our vows in Bermuda at the end of the month," she said.

Mrs. Quint was cleverly being both conspiratorial with me, but also marking her territory. She was no dummy.

"Oh, how fabulous!" I replied with genuine enthusiasm. "Tell me if there is anything that I can do to help."

"Oh nothing," I said when Mrs. Quint asked me what I was giggling about.

Mr. Quint may have been able to hide his cock cage from her for a week, but he certainly wasn't going to be able to do that during a romantic trip with her to Bermuda.

Something was going to have to give in the next couple of weeks. I wasn't sure what, but it was going to be dramatic as hell. So I had to excuse myself from Mrs. Quint in order to slip off to the ladies room. Excitement like this makes me need to sneak off and pleasure myself.

I'm so naughty, aren't I? But I've got great boobs, so it's hard not to have a good time all the time.