New Hire

From the moment we met, I knew what I wanted from you and what you needed from me.

You sit behind your desk and focused on the interview. You don't look at my body once. Not one glance or side eye. Not a single once over. I can tell from your wedding band and family photos you are happily married; a devoted father, husband and as a Methodist choir director pious and above reproach. You will be a strict boss, you say. I want you here at 8 am sharp. You warn me the job is more about quality than quantity. That I'd not have much to do as your assistant but what was asked of me needed to be done with attention to detail and adherence to policy.

On my first day I dressed for success and arrived at 7:59. I readied myself on my knees by the entryway and waited for you to arrive. Caught off guard by my kneeling, you came in through the door way and assumed I was praying or something sensual so you walked past noticing my position but taking care not to disturb me. After a while you come out of your office and see that I'm kneeling in the same place as before and you gain my attention,

"Is everything alright Laine?" you ask.

"Yes, sir," I reply.

"OK, well you can of course sit at your desk if that's more comfortable."

So I rise and work from there for the day and we exchange a pleasant farewell at the end of the day.

The first week goes by similarly. I wait for you to arrive in prone position just inside the music room front office by my desk between the entry way and the door to your office. In your eye line, that is if you really work to see out that far. I'm just out of easy sight from your desk chair.

Sometimes I see you straining to see if I'm still kneeling there.

At first you quickly remind me in the morning that I can work from my desk but it is clear my strange behavior has piqued your interest. When the pastors or any other church employees come near you ask them to wait a moment in the hallway. You hurriedly thank me and instruct me to move to the desk. Other days, we're all alone in this wing. I think you come up with reasons to walk out of your office and into the main suite. Seeing me as you walk hither and thus but more and more you're not asking me to get up and go to the desk.

The second week, I can feel how aware you are of my position and I delight in the knowledge that you're testing how long I'll hold it until you remind me to move otherwise.

By the third monday you are very distracted. You must know I haven't done any work as I haven't moved from the floor in all these hours but you are also conflicted. You want to see if I'll stay here until 5. Do nothing today, but kneel.

My determination should have never been in question. My drive to complete a task is indefatigable.

At 5 when you are readying to leave you ask me to rise and to complete any necessary work before I leave and you turn to leave. I'm stretching up and twisting out kinks and rubbing my knees which are red and painful and from the corners of my eyes I see you. Watching me bending and pulling and righting myself. Your gaze leaves no swell or crease unattended. It's like you're an artist studying your work with an impactful eye. I go to my desk to complete my work and you go.

Tuesday you walk in the door and immediately ask me to rise and to follow you into your office. I stand near the door and you ask me to close it behind us. You sit at your desk and you gesture down to me. I go to sit and you reprimand me saying, "No."

"Please, kneel as you were out there, but here beside my desk".

I do as you ask and I stay there for quite a while as you work. You're much contended with this arrangement. You can see me at all times and you busy yourself with the work you left from yesterday.

At lunch time you acknowledge me and send me with an order and your card and ask that I buy food for myself as well.

When I return you take your meal and ask me to take mine to my desk and finish the day there.

You and I leave around 5 with exchanged pleasantries.

Wednesday you have to miss work. You don't let me know ahead of time that you'll be out. Instead you call at 8:01 and ask if I'm in the suite waiting on my knees. I tell you I am and you let me know you'll be out that day. You ask me to work at your desk instead of mine and then to take the afternoon off.

Thursday you walk past me without a word and you go straight into your office and shut the door behind you. It smells like me in there. After an hour or so you open the door and beckon me inside to kneel by your desk as you work.

One of the pastors makes a surprise visit and calls out to you from the entryway,

"Hey Mark..?"

"Laine, quickly under my desk." You bark and I scurry to comply.

You have a conversation for a while and completely forget about me until your foot slides over and presses against my head.

"Laine, gosh I didn't remember you were there. Come out the coast is clear and I have some documents to file." I do and set to work.

You replay the nudge over and over. The sight of me kneeling beside you coupled with the sensation of your foot trampling me is bubbling over. You've never felt such an odd powerful feeling as the one you've grown to have lately. Like your wish is my command and it's got you being more controlling and dominant than you've ever been. It feels.good. Natural.

After lunch you ask me to face away from you but to kneel close by. I do as you've asked. I don't peek for the duration of the time we spend in your office and I would swear to hearing things that didn't sound like part of your job description happening behind my back.

After that I start spending a lot more time under your desk. I'd start the day kneeling in the music suite and be beckoned into your office to kneel beside you. Eventually ending up curled under your desk with your feet constantly come into contact with parts of my body. I feel your shoe against the inside of my thigh and I close and open my legs against it. You nudge my round ass and I bend my back to strain against you. Your shod limbs explore my body and my breathing catches and pants at the attention.

I have a constant awareness under that desk of how hard your cock is. You're practically walking all over me and feel like a god all while every scrape of your sole against has me aching for what's hiding up there between your chair and the underside of the desk.

One day you leave me under your desk while you have a meeting. Bored and horny I start to play with myself. I'm being as quiet as I can but when I start to cum, breathing hard and fast, I let out a very quiet moan. Thinking I was alone, I come out to quickly clean up my hands and right my skirt and I see you there by the doorway. Not knowing how long you've been there I drop down to my knees and start to apologize and find you angry.

"Why did you come out from under there without my consent?" you demand.

You come so close to me that in my prone position my face is inches away from your trouser clad erection.

You take me by the hair and press my face into your body.

"This is a professional work environment and I'll not have it otherwise." You say as you thrust yourself into my face all while holding me in place by the hair.

"Do you understand?" You say with your clothed cock against my cheek.

"Yes sir." I say.

You move me a few inches to the left and your hair gripped hands press my face harder into your cock. It's straining inside my mouth and I mumble unable to breathe or speak with your cock filled pants muzzling me.

You let me go and sit at your desk asking me to kneel facing away from you.

You don't even try to hide the sound of your zipper or wet strokes. You ask me to bow my head lower and I can feel you standing over me. Your breathing has me transcendent. I'm bowed down taking my place beneath your pounding power. When you explode you're silent but the release flows through you and in to me. I collapse even lower to the ground imploding into the moment where my true work here has begun.