The Slave to Your Sir

I often dream of fucking you in utter abandon. To be filled so completely by you that pain and pleasure mesh and I don't know which is which. At night, I slip one hand between my legs and imagine your cock working its way into me. It's almost delicious to feel the warm throbbing at my clit spread when we are fucking and I move your hand toward my ass hoping you'll push into that forbidden hole.

But you fuck lovingly, softly, quietly whispering sweet words to prove that I please you. You kiss me gently and smooth my hair back so tenderly that I just want to spit in your face. To make you angry enough that you grab my arms and wrestle me into submission. And I submit.

Would I like it if you slammed your hand down hard against my ass cheek? Would I smile later at the stinging burn as I'm sitting at my desk? Or at the faint throbbing pain across my scalp from you pulling my hair to hold me still as you fucked me in the ass? Or as you crushed my nipples with your teeth until I cried out in pain, begging for you to start on the other?

This morning I dreamt that I wrapped my arms around your waist and carelessly dug my fingernails into the furry skin of your abdomen. I could feel you hesitate, as if you almost wanted me to continue my exploration. But you turned around and gave me a quick peck, muttering something about financial reports and the presentation to the board. I made sure that as you turned away, my nails marked your skin. More of a reminder to me than to you that I am yours. I belong to you.

Later, I walked into your office as you were feverishly typing away, obviously working on some project that needed your immediate attention. Like I did. I locked the door behind me and slowly unbuttoned my silk beige blouse. I dropped it to the floor as I tugged at the zipper of my smart blue skirt. I stood before you, white lace underwear and black patent leather pumps gleaming. You looked up from your work and I thought I could see the tremble of your lips as you asked whether I needed anything. Oh, I needed. But you turned back to your computer screen and continued banging away at the keyboard.

My pussy wept. I knew you could see me standing there but it was as if you wanted me to know that I was this inanimate object in the room that you barely noticed. Not worthy of your attention or love. You barked out "Please get me the Carlson report" and all I could do was imagine your mouth on my clit, sucking like all the water in the world was contained in that little bundle. In me.

I can sometimes see your hands gripping my tits roughly, purposefully leaving behind five red welts on each breast. I see your knees push my legs open as you position your cock at my ass, almost like you are asking for an invitation. But I know you'd never ask. I notice that you are holding a dildo, bulbous head and smooth latex skin all slippery and moving toward my pussy hole. You push the head of your cock a little closer, spit in your hand and smear the glob of saliva in and around my back hole. I sigh and close my eyes, knowing that I want to take whatever you give me. Pain, pleasure. It doesn't matter. As long as you give me.

I cannot describe what it feels like to be owned by you. To be yours completely without any regret. How my hands grip your neck as you bite at my chin and then my face. Your mouth lands at my ear and I know that you are ready to send me to that place that only you can. Your teeth dig into my ear lobe and all I can feel is the tandem sensation of ass and pussy being ravished. Being taken and poked and prodded. The thought is enough to make me open my mouth in silent ecstasy.

An ecstasy that seems to last for an eternity. I am lifted. Entangled. Electrified. And the hot blast of your come only makes it better as your fingers gently tighten around my neck.

"Linda? Hello? Are you ok?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Johnson. I'm so sorry. I'll get you the Carlson report right away, sir. Oh, and would you like your coffee now?"

One day I'll work up the courage to test the limits. To see if the fire I feel for you is one that burns you as much as it does me. But until then, I'll have to content myself with just being your secretary, and relish the moments when I am the slave to your "Sir."