Long Weekend

It's Friday, just after midday, and I am in the lift of my Dom's office building. I have a caesar salad in my bag for him which is ostensibly my motivation for dropping in. Later, we're going away for a long, filthy weekend. A weekend which should have already begun except he was called into work to approve an emergency file. He promised to be back by early afternoon but I'm overcome by giddy anticipation.

I decide that the easiest way to incorporate the black, seamed hold-ups I'm wearing into a coherent outfit is to masquerade as my business self. I pretend, to the public, that I went to work this morning as well. I've picked out a fitted, cream shirt-style blouse and camel, knee-length pencil skirt. I'm teetering on five-inch heels and my black bra is a dark smudge beneath the thin material. I've accessorised with an oversized tan leather bag and a string of anal beads.

Reaching his floor, I state my supposed reason for visiting to my Dom's PA. She's a petite blonde with a lovely, soft-featured face. Once, I joked about including her in our play to tease him and he spanked me for being a dirty, sapphic slut. We both laughed throughout. She smiles at me, warmly, and speaks into the intercom.

'Alex, your girlfriend is here. She's brought you lunch.'

He is briefly silent. When he speaks, the delight in his voice is barely concealed.

'Thanks Amy, send her in.'

By the time I have closed the door behind me, his tone has become impassive. Without looking up from the sheets of paper in his hand, he commands:

'Strip.'

My heart leaps and my cunt purrs with lust under his authoritative manner. I unzip the skirt and let it slither down my thighs and slip to the floor before shakily unbuttoning the shirt. He must have looked up surreptitiously because he orders me to keep my shoes and underwear on.

I start to walk towards him, leaving the puddle of clothing just to irk his fanatically tidy sensibilities, but I am halted.

'No. On the floor. In your mouth.'

His brusque instructions induce a sticky glistening between my thighs as I drop to my hands and knees and struggle to collect the blouse, skirt and bag between my teeth. He glances at me crawling, momentarily, before returning to the print on the pages.

'Present yourself.'

He almost sounds disinterested. I clamber onto his desk and face away from him, palms flat on the wood with my legs tucked underneath to push my ass high. The cheeks are striped from a delectable caning session last night. I am ignored.

The minutes creep by and my knees begin to ache, dully. The thrill of being exposed like this and of somebody potentially catching us wanes as time passes. I hear him leafing through the file and humming contentedly. I grow frustrated.

'Daddy...' I whine, sitting back on my heels and twisting my head to look at him.

'Back in position!' He barks, his eyes still fixated by the text in front of him. I squeak pathetically, injured by his sharp tone, and place my head back onto the desk. He slaps each bruised cheek once, eliciting little gasps, and continues humming. I am sure the twin cracks that resound around the room can be heard outside.

Eventually, the sound of his chair swivelling greets my ears and he is standing behind me. A cold metal nudges against my swollen labia as he snips away the lacy material of my knickers. The slight feeling of indignation at losing a favourite piece of lingerie is swallowed by my Dom's gratified exhalation. He fingers the ring protruding from my narrow entrance.

'This is an enchanting surprise.' He says with mock-formality, his voice now an animalistic whisper.

Hooking his thumb through the loop, he gently tugs and it is my turn to sigh deeply. The largest bead is pushing back against the puckered muscle. He slides two fingers into my flooding slit and slowly withdraws again, dragging the first orb through the tight hole. I arch my back to give him freer access. He pulls the beads downwards so that his index finger can caress my clit as each sphere is revealed. I am whimpering and panting feebly. With just one bead left inside me, he drives his fingers back into my cunt and curls them back towards him before forcing a third digit inside. His beckoning persists, swatting against my G-spot. Flutterings of pleasure dance through me. His other hand is pressing the balls back through my rosebud with agonising slowness. I feel myself beginning to peak.

'Daddy, may I come? Please?' I murmur, hoarsely.

'No.' I can detect the smile in his words.

He pushes the last bead back into me and extracts his fingers. He retracts the orb again as a final tease before forcing it punishingly hard back inside. I groan in aching ecstasy. Daddy presses his dripping digits into mouth and orders me to lick them clean. He sits back down in the leather chair.

'On my lap, little slut. Feed me my lunch.'

I wriggle off the table and snatch the box from my bag, thrilled he's not going to return to his paperwork and neglect me. Settling myself on his knee, my feet swinging between his open legs, I can feel the beads shifting and attempt to stifle a moan. One of his hands is exploring my cunt whilst the other liberates my breasts from the bra. I hand-feed him little mélanges of lettuce and chicken and he rubs the skin underneath the lace of my stocking and snaps the garter belt against my thighs. I'm enraptured; fulfilled by serving my Dom.

He finishes eating and lifts me back onto the edge of his desk and demands I masturbate for him. He looks so wolfish in a black suit and white shirt, no tie, and his glare is so intense I can feel my insides swimming. His predatory gaze appraises me in full and then locks onto the hand skimming my slit. I am naturally shy and it took his unrelenting coercion to persuade me to perform for him in the early days. Now, I derive a rush from playing for him.

His eyes are averted from me and are focussed on the folder again. I'm resentful at being discarded. I slip from the tabletop and aim for his Achilles' heel: blowjobs. I haven't even positioned myself between his knees before I am chastened.

'Get back on the table and continue fucking yourself for me.' He counters, eyes still glued to his work.

Petulantly, I slide back onto the cold, hard wood but my hands dangle by my sides.

Finally, he looks up - an eyebrow cocked.

'Are you disobeying an order?' His tone betrays a hint of amusement but I decide against pushing him: the consequences are unpredictable. I recommence stroking my clit.

'Good recovery, princess, but you definitely disobeyed an order.' His eyes are twinkling with sadistic glee. 'What happens to little sluts who disobey orders?'

'Th-they get punished, Sir.' I stammer. I love the demeaning mind games he inflicts upon me, compelling me to breathe out submissive sentences.

'Correct. Go and fingerfuck yourself over there. By the window.'

I stare at him dumbly, my lips parting slightly, a surge of horror swelling and drowning my insides. Daddy's office is in the city, the view of the Thames from his floor-to-ceiling window is obstructed only by other skyscrapers which frame the vista. He wants me to display myself like an Amsterdam whore for any worker who glances outside. A hard slap to my outer thigh sends me tottering forward. I stagger unsteadily towards the glass.

'Come on, pet, you know better than that.' He has turned his chair to watch me. I fall to my knees and complete the journey on all fours - sashaying for him, heartened by his appreciative gaze.

I stand again when I reach the pane and bend over slightly, offering my cunt to him from across the room. My eyes are blind to the world beyond the glass. I stare at a boat cutting its way through the water, terrified that if I look into other buildings I'm going to be met by lecherous faces. I part my striped cheeks for him, momentarily, and then move my hands forward to fondle my clit.

'Try harder. Put on a good show for everybody.' I shudder, part of me wishing he'd let me blank out my surroundings and the other half electrified by the exhibitionism.

I tease and pull a stiffened nipple, twisting and pinching whilst dipping a finger into my slit. I pump the finger in and out, ensuring I graze my clit with each withdrawal. The pace quickens and becomes frantic as I close my eyes and immerse myself in the sensuality of the scene.

'Another finger.' He instructs in a low, lustful grunt. I barely register myself following his command. My nipple is abandoned as I dedicate my hand solely to my clit. I press my breasts against the cool glass and the sensation flickers over my pink buds. I exhale slowly and cloud the window with misty breath, my fingers still working furiously.

An arm curls around my waist.

'Turn around.'

I rotate and my Dom presses his unyielding hardness into my abdomen.

'Unzip me.' He whispers into my ear, his hand nesting at the back of my head.

I oblige and his trousers drop to his ankles. I pull at his boxers and unleash his cock. He picks me up with ease and I fold my legs around his waist. He impales me and my rear is flattened against the glass, my tender welts tingle. On my way to his office, I'd fantasised about somebody walking in on us fucking and now I'm being screwed within the field of vision of, potentially, hundreds of people. I wonder if we are being watched but we're too engrossed to check. The thought of all those voyeurs sends a frisson down my spine. He is thrusting into me hard and I'm scared he's going to shatter the window. We're groaning in near unison; my head lolling to the side, his teeth nipping at my neck and clavicle. We're sprinting towards an explosive joint orgasm.

He withdraws and orders me to unhook myself from him. Daddy is a devil of denial.

'Take me in your mouth.'

I kneel and flick my tongue over his balls and lick his shaft before I corral it. I alternate between squeezing and fondling his sack as my head dips up and down, my tongue zig-zagging around his cock. I maintain a swift pace but his hand burrows into my hair and I accelerate. I glance upward, barely able to see the top of his towering frame, and catch a glance of his face. His eyes are closed and his expression is almost meditative. He vocalises a throaty sound in time to the stiffening of his cock. My mouth dances over it at lightening speed as his cum surges to the back of my throat in fierce spurts.

I draw my head back luxuriously slowly, skimming the last of his seed. I give the head a tight-lipped kiss and tilt backwards, presenting my open, cum-filled mouth to him. He looks down at me, his eyes a little hazy.

'Swallow.'

As I comply, he hoists me up by the hips and I'm sat in his chair, a little back from the window.

'Drape your legs over the arms.' It excites me to see him get on his knees, a position with which I have intimate familiarity. He starts to tongue my cunt remorselessly whilst pressing his hand onto my stomach, pinning me to the leather. I'm hurtling towards my peak, already intoxicated, when the intercom buzzes and the sound of the assistant's voice infiltrates the room.

'I'm going to take my lunchbreak if that's ok?'

His head remains between my legs as reaches over and depresses the button.

'No problem, Amy.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

The sound of another woman calling him 'Sir' pushes me dangerously close; the marriage of eroticism and jealousy drives me wild. Daddy knows this and laughs into my lips.

'Not yet, pet.'

I'm writhing in the chair under his sweet torture. My heels are banging noisily against the arms. His tongue flits over my clit, tracing little figures of eight and drawing crosses and painting circles. His hands compress my stomach and squeeze my thigh as he retracts his tongue, fleetingly, to demand:

'Cum for me, little fuckslut.'

It darts into my slit and tickles the underside of my engorged tip. I'm unable to repress a guttural groan as I climax, my knuckles glowing white through the skin as they grip the arms. My ears are ringing with the sound of my heartbeat, quicker than a frightened rabbit.

He clasps my hand and gently tugs me to my feet.

'I have to work now and you're too distracting: go home.' He chuckles. I wiggle my skirt up my legs and re-button my shirt. I'm dizzy with euphoria.

'I'll be back in an hour, be ready to leave straightaway. Can you wear that little purple dress? With the white flowers on?' It's so endearing when he phrases commands as questions. He kisses my forehead. 'Leave the beads in.' He adds with an impish grin.