The Conference Room

He had known that working with her so closely would be a challenge for him. He had correctly anticipated that it would be very difficult to be around her all day, sharing the same space, looking at her, talking with her, laughing with her – without being able to touch her.

But he had not realized that during their training process, they would actually sit side-by-side at her computer desk, hips and thighs almost touching, arms occasionally brushing together, in a way that made it hard for him to concentrate on the computer they were supposed to be using. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly against him.

Well, okay, that wasn't ALL he wanted to do, but he supposed it would have to suffice while they were in her office.

After a full week of nothing but daytime contact with her, he was thrilled when she finally suggested that he meet her back at the office for some after-hours quality time together. "Nine p.m. should be safe," she said, "since the cleaning crew will be gone by then, and none of the employees ever stay past seven." He readily agreed, then hurried back to his hotel to shower and shave.

He was waiting in the office parking lot by 8:45, and was pleased when she too arrived early. He noted that she had changed her clothes, and was now wearing a loose blouse similar to a man's button-down dress shirt over a pair of tight denim leggings. Entering through the back door, she disabled the alarm system and slid the deadbolt into place, but did not turn on any lights. She led him through the darkened hallways of the empty office building until they reached a large conference room in the center of the suite. Once they were inside, she went carefully around to each of three doors and closed and locked them.

He watched her, feeling the usual mix of anticipation and arousal that merely being in her presence generated in him. The room was generously proportioned, with a heavy wooden conference table in the center. Ten chairs were positioned around the table, but there was enough room for at least two more. There were bookshelves and filing cabinets along some of the walls, but his focus was on the table. At one end he saw a small pillow, and at the other end he saw a folded blanket. His cock twitched inside his pants as he thought about what those two items might mean.

Turning to face him, she said, very seriously, "don't move." He frowned a little at this, but obeyed. She turned to the table, picked up the blanket, and shook it out to its full length, then spread it out over the table, putting the small pillow on top of the blanket. Crouching down, she reached up to the underside of the table and fastened the lower corner of the blanket into something he couldn't see, then repeated the process at the other three corners. The blanket was now fixed in place and would not slide off the table. His heart rate increased as he watched her complete this process.

Walking back over to him, she looked up into his face, still serious, and said, "strip. Everything off."

His cock twitched again, harder this time, and he decided to play along with whatever game she had in mind. Wasting no time, he pulled his red Polo shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the back of one of the chairs, then unbuckled his belt and unfastened the button and zipper of his khaki slacks, while simultaneously kicking off his shoes. He slid his slacks down his legs and stepped out of them, tossing them on top of his shirt. She raised her eyebrows, looking down at his feet, so he yanked off his socks next, letting them fall to the floor where he stood.

Standing there in only his underwear, he should have felt self-conscious, but he did not. She stepped closer to him, and again murmured, "don't move."

She put her hands on the waistband of his underwear, then unexpectedly yanked them UP. He winced as the fabric pulled against his ass and balls, but his cock stayed erect, and he managed to keep his arms still. Releasing the pressure, she slowly, slowly pulled his underwear down, bending down a little at first, then kneeling in front of him, as she gently worked the waistband past his thighs, then his knees, then his shins, then ankles. Looking down at her face right in front of his erect cock, he found it difficult to stand still, but he cooperated when she lifted one foot, then the other, so that she could take his underwear all the way off.

He reached down to put his hands on her shoulders and pull her up to him, but she quickly brought both her arms up from inside his and slapped his hands outward, hard. Looking up at him from her kneeling position, she said, "don't touch. YOU don't touch. Only I get to do the touching in here."

He swallowed quickly, starting to feel a little dizzy, but put his hands back at his sides. She lazily tilted her head to one side, contemplating his erection, then licked the underside of his cock in a slow, delicate motion, from base to tip, then stopped. He inhaled sharply as his balls tightened, and reached for her again. This time she stood up quickly, grabbing both his wrists in her much smaller hands, and looked him in the eyes.

"I said, do NOT touch me. You need to obey."

He was a little confused, since he had at least 40 pounds and 6 inches on her, not to mention his strict weightlifting routine....all of which meant that if he chose to, he could pick her up bodily, force her down on the table or floor or anywhere else he wanted, and easily be able to restrain her in place while doing anything he liked to her. So what was this shit with her grabbing his wrists and telling him to obey her? As if she could actually prevent his arms from moving? Not hardly. But something in her eyes made him stay still, and not move his arms, even though he was sorely tempted.

There were many things he wanted to do right now, and standing motionless was not one of them. But seeing his acquiescence, she nodded.

"Lie down on the center of the table, on your back," she instructed him. She rolled two of the chairs away from the table, giving him access to one end. He approached the table and sat down on the edge of it, facing her, then used his triceps to lift himself backwards and up smoothly, shifting his weight to the middle of the heavy table. Not breaking eye contact with her, he reclined until his head was on the small pillow. She smiled now. His cock jumped again. He loved to see her smile; it was a turn-on all by itself.

She came close to him, looking down at his face, then moving her gaze all along his naked body displayed on the table in front of her. She moved her hands appreciatively across his flat abdomen, running her fingers over his tight obliques and well-defined pectorals, making a contented humming noise in her throat as she did so. Instinctively, he started to raise his arms, wanting to pull her to him, but as soon as he moved his arms at all, she slapped him hard in the center of his chest and jumped back away from the table, out of his reach.

"You don't get it, do you?" she asked, shaking her head in annoyance. "If you lie still and don't move, I will touch you, and you will like it. But if you move, I will stop touching you. You will NOT like that. Do you understand?" He started to smile, thinking she was joking around, but saw in her face that she was being serious.

His smile faded, and he said, "I understand."

She stared hard at him for a moment, then said, "we'll see. Let's try this again."

He forced himself to stay still as she moved close to the table again. Looking at him, she unbuttoned her blouse slowly, from neck to hem, while he watched. Her blouse opened a little wider with the release of each new button, and soon he could see her braless breasts beneath. His cock swelled, pulsing hard. Soon her blouse was fully unbuttoned, and she shrugged her shoulders back, arching her back, letting the garment fall off behind her.

It was then that he saw the chain running between her large breasts, attached to her nipples by metal clamps. He groaned out load at this sight, the ache in his balls increasing. She leaned over him then, taking one of his nipples between her teeth, and bit down gently. He gasped, his cock throbbing, as she repeated the process on the other side. Her hand slid between his legs and her fingertips lightly grazed his erection. His pelvis thrust automatically in reaction to the touch of her hand, and she immediately stopped what she was doing and stood back up.

"You moved," she said accusingly. His eyes widened as he looked at her.

"I thought you meant I couldn't move my HANDS – you mean I can't move at ALL?" he asked incredulously. He didn't know if he could comply with that. She gave him a stern look.

"If you want me to keep touching you, you can't move. Anything. Period." He was breathing raggedly now, but definitely wanted her to touch him, so he forced himself to nod his head in acceptance, and waited, his cock aching to be touched again.

After a long pause, during which he was almost afraid to breathe, she worked her leggings down over her hips and thighs. They were tight, so this involved a lot of hip gyrations and undulations before they were finally off. As usual, she wore no panties. He watched hungrily as she climbed onto the table, positioning herself over him on all fours. The only thing that touched him was the metal chain swinging from her nipples, and from this angle, he could see how tightly her nipples were clamped and how erect they were. They were almost purple from the compression.

She murmured in his ear, her voice husky, "I've been wearing this chain for almost twenty minutes. Every time I move, every time my shirt moves, every time my chest muscles so much as twitch – this chain pulls on my nipples, and the clamps tighten a little more. They're Japanese clover clamps. It's a devilish design. As the chain is pulled, the clamps get tighter. It heightens the sensation in my nipples, increases their sensitivity to an unbelievable level, and keeps it there. Even the slightest touch of them against something now, anything, is almost enough to make me come."

As she said this last part, she lowered her chest close to his, so that her clamped nipples lightly brushed against his chest. She hissed, either in pleasure or pain, and arched her back away from him, lifting her breasts off his chest so that the chain dangled loose again. His cock was throbbing so hard now that it felt like there was a hot stone deep in his loins. His entire body was aching with need. He so badly wanted to touch her, wanted her to touch him, wanted to feel her mouth and hands and pussy all over him. How long would she make him wait?

Still kneeling above him, her groin positioned right above his but just out of reach, she carefully put her hands on her breasts and unfastened the nipple clamps. As she removed each one, she moaned and writhed as the blood flowed back into her nipples. Her glistening pussy hovered over his hard cock, and it took all his willpower not to move as he watched her. She massaged her nipples, her eyes closed, then climbed back down off the table. He waited impatiently to see what would happen next.

Looking down at him, her hands still resting on her breasts, she asked, "do you trust me?"

He hesitated only a fraction of a second, then breathed out the word, "yes." It was true – at this moment, he trusted her fully, and was eager to prove it.

Moving down to the foot of the table, she caressed his long legs, then reached under the corner of the table again, as she had done earlier when fastening the blanket into place. From under the table, she brought up a thick leather cuff, and fastened it around his left ankle. Taking a few steps over to the next corner, she reached underneath again and retrieved a second leather cuff, which she fastened to his right ankle.

He could see that these were not beginner cuffs. There was no break-away Velcro here, or flimsy nylon straps; instead, these were heavy duty padded restraints, with buckling metal clasps and heavy D-rings. He could not see what they were connected to, but felt the weight of something pulling on them from under the table. He began to feel slightly wary, but his cock was so hard he couldn't think clearly.

She moved to the side of the table then leaned over him at the level of his waist, her bare breasts brushing across his erection, which made him groan again. His stomach muscles clenched convulsively as he fought not to move his arms or his cock. She stroked his arms from his elbows down to his hands, then clasped her fingers in his. He gripped her fingers back, hard, desperate. She pulled his arms up over his head slowly, while she walked to the other end of the table.

He didn't resist, though at this point he easily could have stopped her. His breathing got faster as he anticipated what was coming next. Wordlessly, she pressed his wrists against the table, over his head, looking into his eyes, and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "stay." He didn't move, but allowed his arms to remain above his head where she had placed them.

She went to the head of the table where he could no longer see her. He heard some movement, then felt thick cuffs being fastened around his wrists the same way as his ankles. He again felt the weight of something heavy pulling on whatever they were connected to. Still out of his sight, she yanked on something underneath the table, and he felt a sudden firm tug as all four cuffs were pulled taut, securing him spread-eagled on the table. Reflexively he pulled against his restraints, trying to lower his arms and move his legs, but was unable to make even a slight movement with any of his limbs. Whatever she had used to bind him had no slack in it whatsoever.

Moving back into his line of sight, she ran her arms over his chest, his belly, his thighs, pressing firmly enough not to tickle, but never touching his straining cock. He breathed hard, feeling he might explode if this continued too long. She climbed up on the table again, straddling him without touching him, and started to calmly explain things to him.

"See, I actually did you a favor here. I knew it would be too hard for you to stay still, so I set this up earlier to solve that problem for you. And now, you don't have to worry about accidentally moving, since you can't." She smiled a little evilly at him.

"I mean, you really can't. CANNOT. Go ahead – try." Her voice was commanding and taunting at the same time. He did try to move, this time pulling with all his strength, but again with no success. She continued with her explanation.

"I ordered these cuffs and straps from a website called 'The Stockroom,' which specializes in serious bondage equipment. In fact, they call it 'dungeon gear' since it's used in commercial BDSM settings. The weight and thickness of this stuff – it's amazing. Of course, it wasn't cheap either, but it was less expensive than, say, the metal prison cage – that was like seven hundred bucks – but I figured since you're pretty damn strong, I would have to get the real deal if I wanted to hold you in place."

She bent down and licked each of his nipples, then slid her pussy along the top of his cock quickly, just once, making him gasp and jerk.

"You always said if I ever tied you up, I'd better use something strong, since otherwise I wouldn't be able to keep you away from me." She smiled again, almost charming now, then continued, "and I decided you were right." Her hands grazed his chest again, this time pinching his nipples. They were more sensitive than usual, and he inhaled sharply. She laughed.

"You think THAT hurts? Hang on..." Leaning sideways, she picked up the Japanese clover clamps she had been wearing earlier. His balls contracted as he realized what she had in mind. He started to speak now, but only got his mouth open before she pressed her hand down, hard, over his mouth, preventing him from saying anything. She was leaning most of her weight down on her hand, and he couldn't move his mouth at all.

"I haven't gotten out the gag yet, but if you're going to be annoying, I will." She paused, eyeing him steadily. "Will you be annoying? Do you want me to gag you?"

He shook his head in the negative, fighting against the pressure of her hand, and she lifted it away.

"Good. Because I really want your mouth available for other purposes tonight." His heart pounded.

Opening the nipple clamps, she ran them across his chest teasingly. She leaned down and sucked hard on his right nipple, pulling on it with her teeth to make it more erect, and flicking her tongue back and forth across it rapidly. The suction and the friction were ecstasy. He closed his eyes in pleasure and groaned, getting into it with her.

But suddenly she pulled her mouth away and closed one of the clamps down on his hard nipple. He yelped at the unexpected pinch. Holy shit, this was fucking intense! He didn't know if this was pleasure or pain. His senses were so overwhelmed at this point, he didn't even know what his name was any longer.

As he tried to breathe, she reached down between her legs and rubbed her wet pussy, then stroked her wet fingers on his cock, moving them up and down slowly. He jerked again, pulse racing, then moaned as she stopped her hand movements. Instead, she fastened the other clamp on his left nipple, which was already erect. He was breathing heavily, feeling constricted by the cuffs and clamps, but he couldn't move.

Perhaps sensing his desperation, she inched backwards down the table, putting her face over his bulging erection. He caught his breath, willing her to take him all the way into her mouth, but she only swirled her tongue around the tip of his penis and licked the head gently. He moaned again, the pressure inside him becoming unbearable.

With her mouth on just the tip of his cock, she reached up and pulled gently on the chain connecting the two nipple clamps. They tightened noticeably on his sore nipples, and he decided it was definitely pain, rather than pleasure, he was experiencing. But then, gloriously, his entire cock was inside her mouth, and she was moving her head up and down rapidly, taking him deep into her throat.

She sucked and licked and massaged him with her tongue until he forgot about the tight clamps on his nipples. Her head continued to move up and down on his cock, and she simultaneously leaned to the right and then to the left, to ensure that every millimeter of him was properly worshiped with her tongue. He thought his heart might burst from excitement--

But then she suddenly stopped. He cried out, desperate to come, and jerked as hard as he could on the table, feeling the cuffs tight around his wrists and ankles.

"Please!" he begged her, hearing the pleading tone in his voice, not caring how he sounded. "Please – for God's sake – you can't do this to me." She hovered over his cock, not touching it, but watching it throb and jump helplessly as he struggled to move.

"Actually," she said, "I can. And I wonder just how long I could keep you on the edge like this?" He squeezed his eyes shut and felt like yelling or crying or passing out. Surely she couldn't really mean this. It was absolute torture. He didn't think he could take it.

"Remember how I said I want your mouth available?" she asked, moving back up towards the head of the table. He nodded yes as he fought to breathe through the agonizing sexual tension she had created in him. "Well, this is why," she said, kneeling over his face with her legs spread apart.

She put her hands down on top of his forearms, and lowered herself so that her pussy was right over his panting mouth. Oh, God, he thought, oh God, this was so fucking good. He wanted this so much. He pushed his face up as far as he was able to, licking and tasting her wet outer lips, then shoving his tongue deeply up into her. She moved her hips to her own satisfaction, positioning her clit over his tongue to make him do what she wanted. He lapped and sucked and flicked his tongue all around her turgid clit, becoming even more turned on as she moved faster and breathed harder herself.