Power Ch. 02

Her head burned from him pulling her hair but it only intensified her pleasure as the orgasm continued, not letting up, only growing stronger within her. It felt like she was peeing as she yelped. He slammed into her, fucking her relentlessly. "Oh, god! Oh god! Cum in me! Fill me up with your cum! Make me your cum dumpster slut fucking whore! Fucking shit! Fucking cock! Fuck me! Fucking fill me with your hot cum!"

"You fucking whore!" Mr. Johnson growled before he shot off inside her, pushing her over the edge again.

"Oh-oh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, fucking yes! Cum inside me! Fill me up. Fill your slave up with your hot cum!" Her body tensed up into another orgasm as a heat washed over her.

Joanne was left panting on the floor, trying to catch her breath. She moaned when Mr. Johnson pulled his cock out of her and she shivered, smiling at the feeling of his cum running down her thighs.

"On your knees, whore," Mr. Johnson commanded.

Without even thinking, Joanne gathered herself up and kneeled before him, feeling his cum and her cunt juices running down her body. She was a different person. Joanne knew what she had said and she knew that she meant it. She meant every word. No man had ever fucked her before with such ferocity, such intensity, such feral need and animal aggression. She loved it.

She looked up and shivered at the sight of his glistening cock, the smell overtaking her, sending tingles down to her cunt again. Oh my god, she thought. I'm getting excited again. She couldn't believe that she could so quickly be sexually stimulated after the fucking that he had given her.

"Lick me clean," Mr. Johnson commanded and sighed with pleasure at how quickly she leapt upon him, licking and sucking him, using her small tongue to taste the mix of sex fluids. He grinned at how turned on she was getting again.

Joanne inhaled the intoxicating scent as she ran his thickness over her cheeks and between her lips, lapping at the cum coated cock. She then nestled under his cock and licked and sucked on his balls, first the left, then the right, gently, using her tongue to stimulate them. Then she used the flat of her tongue and lapped at them, becoming aroused as he sighed in pleasure.

"Ugh," she grunted as Mr. Johnson pulled her off of his cock by the smalls of her hair. The pain burned through her and she involuntarily shivered from the feeling of it.

"I said to clean it off not to make it hard again," Mr. Johnson chided her. Joanne felt her heart skip a beat in fear of another punishment.

I need to behave! I need to be good! She thought to herself. "I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson. Please forgive me."

Silently, Mr. Johnson turned away leaving Joanne in tension. He went to her pile of clothes and tossed her the black skirt and blouse that she had worn. He smirked as he took the bra and put in a desk drawer.

Oh my god, she thought to herself. He's not going to let me wear a bra.

"Hurry, slut," Mr. Johnson said. "We have more to do tonight."

Not wanting to be spanked again for being to slow, Joanne hurriedly dressed and squirmed a little at the feeling of his cum and her juices that still ran down her thighs. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Joanne nearly fainted from panic and fear when she saw him open a drawer and pull out a small automatic pistol in a holster. Without paying her any attention, Mr. Johnson checked the round in the chamber and then clipped the holster to his belt on his right hip before grabbing his expensive leather briefcase. Wordlessly, confidently he strode past her to the door. She felt a chill run down her spine just from being so close to him. Joanne couldn't help but feel that way around him.

He abruptly turned and looked at her. "Follow two steps behind and on my left."

"Yes, sir," Joanne said obediently.

Mr. Johnson nodded and then walked out of his office as if Joanne wasn't even there. She hurried to follow him and found herself very conscious of her actions, ensuring that she remained two steps behind him and to his left. He would stop and look at someone's desk and she knew out of the corner of his eye, he could see her. Mr. Johnson was testing her obedience. She found herself trying very hard to obey. Joanne watched him to try and gauge when he would stop and start walking again.

As they walked through the dark office toward the elevator, Mr. Johnson would abruptly stop walking and then start again, forcing Joanne to stop and start with him as she maintained a two step interval between them. She felt herself blushing as she realized she was forced to behave, forced to obey. She had no choice.

Mr. Johnson chuckled and finally walked briskly to the elevator.

"Follow me to your house," Mr. Johnson commanded as they left the elevator for the underground parking garage. Then he ignored her and walked away to his car.

Looking around, not knowing what else to do, Joanne smoothed her skirt and then walked to her car to obey. What else could she do? It wasn't until she was in her car that her heart raced as she wondered how Mr. Johnson knew where she lived. Had he been stalking her? Had he watched her? She was no angel and wondered what kind of show he had gotten to see, looking through her windows. Her mind flashed to an image of her being fucked by a guy she met at the bar as Mr. Johnson watched through the window. She felt chilled suddenly and very wet and excited between her legs.

At Joanne's small townhouse apartment, Mr. Johnson was out of his car, impatiently waiting for her. She felt a little silly as she fumbled with her keys, no longer fearing what would happen but actually aching for him to throw her down and fuck her again. Just the excitement and the thought of his power and sexual passion over her was enough to make her pussy drip.

She was disappointed when entered the house and she dutifully followed him to the bedroom. Her breathing quickened as her senses came alive in anticipation of more sex. Joanne was let down as he snapped his fingers while looking around and pointed to the ground. Feeling silly Joanne knelt where he pointed and waited silently.

Joanne was shocked at how absently and how nonchalantly he handled women. Didn't he know this was the twenty-first century? What makes him think he can control me like that? But the truth was, she knew, that he did control her. She had obeyed, and perfectly, for fear of punishment, but also out of fear of not getting anymore sex. So she knelt and waited silently.

Mr. Johnson rummaged through her things and she could hear him packing things into bags quickly and expertly, not wasting any time. He didn't even look at her as he walked out of her closet and dropped a pair of rolling duffel bags near her. Then he walked into the bathroom with a smaller bag and she could hear bottled clanging together and the sound of her toiletries being packed into the bag.

She felt anger well up as he so indifferently went through her things. He picked up her leather bound diary, looked it over and put it into a small bag. He picked through what he wanted and then walked over to her and dropped the bag with the others.

Joanne wanted to look up but fought the desire and stared at the ground, her breasts rising and falling with her heavy breathing.

"Give me your keys," he ordered her. Wordlessly, she handed them over. "Do you have any spare sets?" Joanne shook her head. "Very well. Grab your bags and load them into your car."

Trying desperately to carry all of the weight, Joanne hurried after Mr. Johnson with two bags over her shoulders and the rolling the two duffel bags. It was a lot for her small petite frame to carry but she didn't want to disappoint him. Joanne still held onto the hope that she would receive some sexual relief tonight.

Mr. Johnson watched as she loaded the bags into her car.

"Follow me," Mr. Johnson said. "Stay no more than two car lengths behind me and for God's sake, don't let someone cut you off. You'll be lost and I won't come and find you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Joanne answered, still breathing heavy from carrying the heavy bags.

Mr. Johnson just nodded and then walked to his car.