Rika's Menagerie

A note from within fell out into my desk. It was handwritten.

Dear Jen, what you have now in your possession is a collar, but not just any collar. It's your very own. My gift to you. This is your first test: put it around your neck to become my pet. You can wear it in the office if you like, just remember to keep it concealed - a scarf works well in that regard. Fair warning though, if you wear it, you must do as I say, as I will be your mistress. If you do not do as I say, you will fail the test. Enjoy!

When the realization hit me, I nearly topple backward in my chair. I uttered a cry. I stuffed the collar quickly into the first place of available concealment I could find-- my purse.

My heart was beating fast. Sweat collected on my brow. Heat prickled my cheeks. The collar was a fetish toy those people into BDSM like to use. How insane she was for putting that on my desk! What the hell was she thinking? What if I had opened that package with someone in my office? Like an associate or an intern?

I stood up and shot Rika an angry glare. She ignored me. Or pretended to ignore me. She was too far away for me to tell. So, I sat back down in an angry huff, shaking my head in disbelief. How could she send that to me at work?

My face turned as red as a tomato. I was about to toss the collar in the trash, but I stopped, realizing the risk. Imagine if one of my co-workers spotted the thing in my trash bin? How would I explain it?

A collar! Was she crazy? I did not expect this when she said she'd be testing me. But what was I expecting? By the strictest definition of the term, this was kinky, and she did in fact, promise to administer a kink test.

I was so flustered that I couldn't focus the rest of the day at work. I gave a presentation to clients that afternoon. Takahiro pulled me aside afterward and asked me if I was doing ok. He told me I seemed a bit off. I told him I hadn't had enough sleep last night. He apologized for the workload, and to make it up, invited me to dinner at his favorite sushi place. We talked shop, of course, but might as well. The things that I was constantly and frenetically thinking about were Rika and that collar. I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and scream, "Sato-san! Why the hell do you have that demoness as your secretary, dammit!?"

The poor man. He was well-meaning and a gentle soul. A traditionalist who thought he was being progressive by hiring the likes of Rika, the tattooed, pixie-haired, Bushido kink slut, as his secretary. Little did he know how progressive he truly was. Far more than I preferred.

I went straight home after dinner. Takahiro and I had shared a bottle of sweet sake over dinner, so I had a buzz going. But I wasn't satisfied with the sake's effect on the day's frustration. So, I opened a bottle of wine, poured myself a glass, and drank. I realized then that my purse still contained the collar. The purse sat on my coffee table like Pandora's box. I was petrified by it.

How could anyone find wearing a collar sexy? Why would I want to be apet? How incredibly demeaning. I'm a partner, goddammit! Who does that woman think she is? I ought to toss that damn collar, then have a private chat with Rika about it. To nip whatever antics she had in mind in the bud.

I finished the glass and poured myself another. The buzz got stronger.

I recalled the night we shared. Such a lovely night. How incredibly delicious looking she was in her fancy cocktail dress that showed off her sumptuous breasts. Our wandering conversations. That kiss in the alley. The great sex. Why oh why couldn't she have been more like what a Japanese secretary ought to be? Reticent. Obedient. Shy. Plain-Jane like me. It was that characteristic that I found most endearing about Japanese people. It was what attracted me to Japan in the first place. Rika was none of those things, apparently.

A collar for me? Hah! To be owned by her? Why did she ever think I would ever want that?

To be fair, though, she did ask to test me. It was an offer made in good faith. And I did accept. She wasn't forcing it upon me or anything. She just wanted to have some fun in her quirky way.

I pictured myself with the collar on. Then I imagined the look on Rika's face to see that collar on me. How delighted she would be to see it around my neck. Then what? What would she have me do once she became my mistress? Probing the theoretical caused a funny little lance of electricity to crackle up my spine. I took a sip of wine.

I'd be her pet. She'd be my mistress. What did that mean exactly? How would I feel about her having that power over me? Another crackle of electricity. I swallowed nervously.

I was all alone in my apartment. What did that collar look like again?

I opened my purse, and I fished it out. My heart pounded with a theme-park ride level of excitement. My hands trembled as I held it. This was the thing that would make me Rika's pet. All I had to do was put it on.

The leather was nice. It was as supple as the finest Florentine leather. It must have been expensive.

I polished off the glass of wine, then took a shower. When I returned to the living room, my head was swimming. I was thoroughly drunk. I found the collar on my coffee table beside the empty wine bottle. Did I really just drink the whole bottle of wine?

I threw the bottle into the trash. When I turned around, I spotted the collar sitting on the coffee table, right where I left it. I told myself fervently that the collar ought to go in the trash, too. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. The look of pleasure on Rika's face was painted in my mind. She did go out on a limb for me, didn't she? It was a huge risk to leave the collar on my desk. And it was a gift. I should respect that. Gift-giving in Japan was serious business.

I ran my fingers over the plush leather. It felt good in my hand. It had a wonderful wood-smoke smell.

I could have a bit of fun and try it on, couldn't I? I was alone in my apartment.

I shut the window blinds, even though I was on the highest floor of the tallest apartment building in the neighborhood, but who knows, maybe a helicopter might fly by, carrying a bunch of tourists with binoculars. Or maybe a window cleaner might belay down on a portaledge to clean my windows. I couldn't risk it.

With the blinds finally lowered, I shut my eyes and held my breath, and shook my head in disbelief at myself. I fumbled with the collar as I wrapped it around my neck. I couldn't find where the strap went into the buckle with my trembling fingers, so I went to my bathroom to do it in front of the mirror. And when I was done and when I saw the collar on my neck, I chuckled. How silly I looked wearing it. But it did look kind of cute. It looked kind of like a choker a much younger me would have worn. And it felt..., well, really good to see myself in it. Like a breeze blowing right through my soul. I was Rika's pet now, and that was what made me feel good. I laughed hysterically.

I remembered another thing Rika had said. That I could wear it to work, even! What a horrifying thought! I couldn't. I wouldn't dare! But she didn't mean it to be optional. She wanted me to wear it in the office. That was the true test. A test of my obedience.

Adrenaline coursed through my body. I was breathing heavily now. How crazy that such a simple accessory can fill me with electricity.

My heart was pounding like a kick drum. My head swirled like I was on a rollercoaster. And I was aroused. My pussy, I just realized, was aching with a throbbing tightness and dripping with excitement.

Tomorrow was going to be a nippy day. A scarf would be prudent.

The following morning, I had a jump scare when I turned the bathroom light on and spotted the collar around my neck in the mirror. I guess I had dozed off with it on. In retrospect, that was probably not a safe thing to do, but all the same, I began to glow with adrenaline again. I remembered the test. I remembered that I decided I would wear it today at work. Here goes nothing.

I picked out a wide wool scarf. I wrapped it several times around my neck to not risk it falling off.

Like always, I stopped by the coffeehouse by the street corner for an Americano, eyeing everyone around me warily as I waited for my coffee, my heart beating rapidly. No one noticed. Good.

As usual, Rika was already sitting at her desk when I exited the elevator.

"Good morning, Williams-san!"

I blushed deep red when I saw her eyes travel down to my scarf as she greeted me.

I quickened my pace. My office was stifling. Sweat beaded on my forehead. But I didn't dare take my scarf off.

During the day, one of my colleagues commented on my scarf. "Aren't you hot?"

Mind your own damn business!

By noon, I was finished with my emails and phone calls. Around then, my phone dinged with a message. It was from Rika.

"I see you're enjoying my gift, my pet. Congratulations, you passed the first test. But don't get too comfortable because now begins the second. You told me that your "kink" is sexy underwear, so I'm curious about your taste in underwear. Take off your panties. Put it on my desk in a courier envelope for my inspection. Do it before the end of the lunch period."

I sank despondently into my chair. I was on the verge of a panic attack.

My intern knocked at my door. "I'm busy!" I snarled. He ran off with his tail between his legs.

What panties did I have on again? I slid my hand down my crotch. Laced. Oh yeah, the black-laced thong. Rika would find it sexy, I thought. That was kinky, right? Fuck, what am I thinking? Who fucking cares if it's kinky? Why did she want me to take my panties off in the middle of the workday?

I mopped my forehead. What do I do? Do I obey her? Do I take my panties off? Then what? I go the rest of the day without any underwear? I was wearing a skirt today. A mid-calf pencil skirt, fortunately, but still, a skirt, which meant it would get pretty damn breezy down there.

Yet as I thought about it, the idea of going around all day pantieless started to make me hot. My pussy grew uncomfortably wet (soaking my panties). My incessant nervous swallowing made my collar chafe against my skin. It was too tight. But I didn't dare try to adjust it at work.

I didn't have to take my panties off. I really didn't. But if I didn't, she'd give up on me. She would decide I wasn't worth her time. I didn't want that. I didn't want to fail this test. I don't fail tests. I wanted to prove to her that I really did like sexy underwear. And today, I was wearing sexy underwear. I can easily pass this test. I could go pantieless all day and no one would know.

I locked my door and peeked above the frosted glass to see if the coast was clear. A couple of people were at their desks, but the floor was mostly deserted. Most were at lunch already. Here we go again.

Quickly I slid my panties down. I shuffled them off my ankles and stuffed them into an envelope.

I sealed the envelope shut, scribbled Rika's name on it, then stepped out of my office and walked hurryingly to the elevator, stopping at Rika's desk to drop off the package like a secret agent before entering the elevator to go downstairs to grab a sandwich at the deli shop across the street. The elevator was packed. And I wasn't wearing any panties. I smirked gleefully. I was so aroused.

The sun came out that afternoon. There was a nice park near the office, which I enjoyed sitting in for lunch, but for obvious reasons, I felt better today if I ate at my desk.

Rika was at her desk when I returned. The envelope was noticeably missing. I caught her eye and then quickly averted mine. I swallowed nervously as I made a beeline for my office. I could sense her watching me, perhaps watching my ass, satisfied to know I was wearing nothing beneath my skirt.

My phone dinged with a new text as soon as I sat at my desk, sending little sprites of exhilaration into my toes.

"Thank you for this lovely gift. It is so pretty, and it smells so nice. But there is one small problem. Your panties made me so hot, I had to pleasure myself, and since I don't have a private office, I had to book a meeting room to do it! For making me do that, you must be punished. Before you go home today, I want you to enjoy yourself in the same meeting room. Don't stop until you cum. Room M06. Report back as soon as you're finished."

Oh God.

The collar tightened around my neck again. I gasped for air like a carp out of water. I had to reread her text to make sure it wasn't a wild figment of my imagination. She really did just tell me she masturbated in a meeting room and was now ordering me to do the same.

I knew meeting room M06 well. Thankfully, it did not have any glass partitions like most of the others. So at least it was perfectly private. Still, it was such an insane proposition! Did she really think I would book a meeting room just to...

Out of curiosity, I checked the online scheduler on my computer. Thankfully, M06 was booked solidly until 8 PM. I breathed a sigh of relief. That's that, then. An impossible task. I had a perfectly good excuse. Time for the next test. But just as I relaxed, a particular booking made by Rika caught my eye. A 30-minute slot at four pm. I hovered my mouse over the booking to read the description and felt the blood drain from my face as I read: 'Reserved on behalf of Ms. Jen Williams.'

Oh, that cunning little she-devil! She had this all planned out well in advance! A thirty-minute window sandwiched between two client meetings. Four pm. That was two hours from now! She knew the meeting room schedule would be packed this afternoon! Only thirty minutes! My head spun. My office grew small. The collar tightened once more.

Time whittled away towards judgement hour faster than I wanted it to. It wasn't long until my booked time arrived. At five minutes until four, my mind raced with indecisiveness. Time ticked away. Each second faster than the second before. It would take me two minutes to walk to the meeting room. Now or never. Either I do it, or I take the collar off. No shame in raising the white flag, right? But if I fail, what happens? Do I not get to see Rika again? Screw me. Why did I want her so badly? Why did I want this so badly? And why was I doing this in the first place? Something about needing to know why she was lactating? Wasn't the answer already obvious? She's as kinky as they come. She gets off on getting her milky breasts sucked. But I love sucking her milky breasts, and I won't get to, unless I cum in meeting room M06.

Dammit!

I slammed my hands on my desk and jumped to my feet. I swiped my laptop. I needed it to not look suspicious.

The meeting room was just down the hallway from Rika's desk. I would have to walk past her. I hugged the laptop tightly to my front. Takahiro was pacing in his office behind her. I could see his head bobbing up and down above the frosted partition. He was on the phone having an animated conversation.

"Good luck with your meeting, Williams-san," Rika said with a bow and a sly smirk painted on her lips. I could only manage a whimper in response.

I got a buzz on my work phone indicating that my meeting time was starting, just as I arrived at the door labeled M06.

I let out a cry of surprise when the door popped open causing the man who opened it to jump with surprise. We both laughed. He held the door open for others to filter out, then motioned for me to enter with a respectful bow. I bowed back nervously and went in. I went to lock it but then remembered, to my horror, that the meeting room doors could not be locked during the day.

I was breathing rapidly like I had just finished a sprint. But the sprint was only starting, and now I was on the clock. I ran to sit at the far side, facing the door, then popped my laptop open to make it look like I was in a virtual conference.

My mission was to make myself cum within thirty minutes. Twenty-five minutes now, actually. Still doable. All I needed was five. All I had to do was drown out all the noises of my anxiety. I'm good at that. I'm good at focusing when I need to focus.

I closed my eyes. Breathed deeply. Think sexy thoughts, I muttered to myself. Don't think about the fact that I'm at work. Don't think about the people passing by in the hallway, their muffled footsteps growing louder than softer as they pass. Don't think about the time. It doesn't take that long if I have the right mindset. Think only sexy thoughts. Think of Rika. Picture her holding my panties against her cheek, sniffing it while pleasuring herself in this very room.

I slid my hand into my skirt. It was jarring to feel no underwear covering my pussy.

My legs were as far apart as my constrictive pencil skirt allowed them to be. I slid my fingers over my pussy. I needed some more lube to prime me. So, I moistened my fingers with spit and slid them down there again.

It was only last night that I was ready to throw that collar out in the trash. That would have been the smart thing to do. But lo and behold - today, not only was I wearing the cursed collar to work, but I had also given up my panties to my boss's secretary, and now, I was fingering myself in a meeting room. Never had I ever put myself in such a compromising position. Never had someone had such power over me.

My pussy tightened up. My clit hardened and emerged from its hood. I rubbed a little faster. How terrible that it made me so, so hot.

My problem now was that my damn skirt was too tight. It was too constrictive. I couldn't get a good rhythm with my fingers down there. I looked at the time on my smartphone -- fifteen minutes left!

I unbuttoned my skirt, hiked the hem up my thighs as far as it would go, then propped my knees up against the edge of the table. That was better. That gave me more room for my hand. The only problem is, if anyone walked through the door now, I didn't know if I would have enough time to bring my legs down from that position. They'd get the full glimpse of my pussy. I needed to hurry. I needed to cum. I moistened my fingers again with spit. I tasted my sex on them. I closed my eyes and rubbed my fingers in a vigorous circular motion around my clit. Did Rika really pleasure herself? Did my panties really throw her into such a horny mood? That kinky little slut... But what does that make me?

The first intense waves rushed through my body, causing me to jolt. I uttered an involuntary moan. My thighs began to quiver. I rubbed myself more vigorously. I was getting there. I glanced at my smartphone again -- only five minutes left. I can't fail!

I used my other hand to penetrate my vagina while I kept rubbing. I curled my finger in and pumped. I started to imagine what Rika would have me do next. If I behaved, she would reward me, wouldn't she? I wondered what I would get as a reward? Another tremendous wave as I rubbed my clit and pumped my finger in and out. My vagina loosened, so I squeezed in another finger.

Rika would have liked to watch. She'd get so hot. I bet she'd enjoy licking my wet pussy, that dirty slut. I pictured her head between my thighs, her naughty brown Bushido eyes gazing dauntlessly into mine as she licked me to the edge of the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

My muscles tightened up. My thighs quivered, and my toes curled up as the waves of pleasure came faster and faster. I squealed. I tightened into a ball and nearly shook myself off the chair as the final wave finally overtook me. My warm sex gushed around my fingers. Oh Fuck. Oh God. I just squirted!

I glanced at my smartphone. My stomach lurched. Two minutes until the next meeting. Two minutes left and I was a ragged, sticky, sex-strewn mess.

Quickly I reached into my purse and grabbed a bunch of tissue. I wiped my fingers, then I wiped my pussy clean. Fortunately, it wasn't as messy as I had imagined. I didn't get any on the chair.