The Temp Ch. 04

Jack and Veronica's journey ends here. Please note this concluding chapter will have much more meaning if you have read the preceding chapters. Thank you to all for your past and future feedback.

I was beginning to feel schizophrenic. My mood was swinging violently from euphoric arousal to apocalyptic depression. I could close my eyes, and images of my submission to Veronica would send me into an extended state of erotic bliss, with every microbe of my being focused on the pleasure emanating from my perpetually pulsing cock. Then, fear and depression would take hold, and I'd suddenly find myself thinking about the man who confesses that he lost his home and business due to his gambling compulsion, or the man who couldn't overcome his drinking problem until after he ruined his marriage. And I wondered if that man was me.

Was I that far gone? Could I permit my behavior to become that self-destructive? A reality check did nothing to allay my fear. At that very moment, while lying in my bed next to my wife, the identification strap which read "property of Ms. Harper" was locked securely around my cock and balls. All it would take to be discovered was for my wife to decide that she wanted to play, and reach out for my cock.

Veronica's words played over and over in my head. "You want to be my slave so badly that you'll even risk your wife discovering it." How could it be true? And yet, there I was putting my marriage at risk just to satisfy this inexplicable sexual desire. A previously intelligent, cautious man, I was now making life decisions based solely on the needs of my cock, a cock controlled by the euphoric sensation that came from doing Veronica's bidding.

And if, in fact, I was truly at Veronica's mercy, what then? Would there be no demand I could refuse? No indignity I wouldn't suffer? Would my desperate need to be her slave, actually lead me to ruin? Those were the questions that offset the thrill, and swung my mental pendulum back to depression.

That depression was reinforced on Thursday when Veronica never showed up for work. I could barely focus on my job, and knew that the quality of my work was suffering. In addition, I continued to do all of Veronica's work so nobody would become suspicious about her absence. By 5:00, I knew I'd have to stay late to get the essentials taken care of, and I called my wife to advise her of my timing.

"What do you mean you have to work late tonight?"

I was taken aback by the question. My wife knew I only worked late when I had to, and she had never questioned my doing so in the past.

"I've got all this work that has to get done," I began to explain, but she cut me off.

"No, I don't mean that. Did you forget that Veronica is coming for dinner tonight?"

My heart stopped, and my mouth literally fell open. A thousand questions raced through my mind. What in the world was she talking about? Veronica coming to dinner?!? Though my wife knew I had a temp this week, I was absolutely sure that I had never even mentioned Veronica by name. But there was no other Veronica she could be talking about. What did my wife know? The seconds were ticking by, and I had to say something.

"What?" was all I could manage.

"You've got some explaining to do, Jack. Such as why you felt the need to invite this temp to our home for dinner? And how you could forget to tell me about it, so now I've got almost no time to get everything ready? And don't tell me now that you're coming home late. She's going to be here at 6:00, and I have absolutely no interest in entertaining her by myself."

"Hon, I'm sorry. I must have forgotten. You, uh, spoke with her?"

"Fortunately, yes. If she hadn't called to ask me what she could bring, I would have been totally unprepared. I must have sounded like an idiot not knowing that she was going to be our guest this evening, but she was very sweet about it. So finish up, and get home pronto, okay?"

"Right. Sure. Sorry."

I hung up the phone, and felt suddenly nauseous. Everything was spiraling out of control. I had no way to contact Veronica to dissuade her from following through with her plan, whatever it was. In one hour she would be in my home, talking to my wife about who knows what? As I frantically considered my options, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Jack, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to work today."

"Veronica, what the hell are you doing? Why did you call my wife and invite yourself to dinner?"

"I understand you're surprised, Jack, so I'm going to be extremely generous and ignore that rude outburst. I invited myself to dinner because I decided it would be fun to sit next to your wife while picturing you worshipping me. And you want me to have fun, right Jack? You want to do whatever makes me happy, don't you Jack?

"Veronica, please."

"Remember your place, Jack. And let me hear you beg."

"Ms. Harper, please. I'll do anything you ask, just please don't bring my wife into this."

"Mmm. Sorry Jack. Your wife is already expecting me, and I don't want to be impolite. I just called to give you a word of warning: If you want things to go well tonight, do not remove your property collar. Understand?"

"Please don't do this."

"If you're very good, you may even get to cum. See you in an hour, Jack."

And with that, she hung up. I put down the phone and sat there in a stupor. What could I do? I looked down at the bulge in my crotch, picturing Veronica's property tag inside my pants. Her words stimulated and horrified me at the same time. How could I go home still wearing it under these circumstances? And yet, if I didn't do as Veronica instructed, she'd made it clear I would regret it. I had to leave it on, and pray that Veronica did not betray me. And, I had to leave immediately if there was any hope of getting home before Veronica got there.

The anxiety during my drive home was palpable. I was already sweating just from the anticipation of the encounter; how would I possibly survive this evening with my world intact? I felt a flicker of understanding for people who are driven to extreme measures out of desperation. I needed to do something to make this nightmare go away. But all I could do was tell myself over and over what a jerk I was for digging my own grave.

When I arrived home, the absence of an unfamiliar car in front of the house provided a moment of relief. At least I would be present to hear anything that Veronica said to my wife. But even that miniscule consolation soon disappeared as our doorbell rang moments after I got inside the house. My wife was busy in the kitchen, and I called out that I would get the door.

My already heightened apprehension skyrocketed when I opened the door and saw Veronica. She was dressed in a short black leather skirt, a black leather top accented with silver studs, and calf high, stiletto heel boots. I almost wished for a heart attack to put me out of my misery. Veronica looked at me and didn't move.

"The usual rules still apply, Jack", she said, extending her right foot forward slightly.

"Please, Veronica" I begged.

"All the rules, Jack, and be grateful I don't insist you call me Mistress."

"Yes, Ms. Harper."

I glanced back at the kitchen doorway, knowing my wife would walk through it at any moment, and as quickly as I could, I dropped to my knees and kissed Veronica's boots. With my heart pounding, I rose to my feet just as my wife emerged from the kitchen. Veronica walked through the entranceway, and as I closed the door behind her, I sensed that I had just permitted the devil into my home.

"Diane, this is Ms. Harper," I said, and as soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized how ridiculous they sounded. My wife noticed also.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. It's Veronica, right?"

"Yes. Jack is always so formal at the office, but I think it's sweet that he calls me Ms. Harper. So many bosses have no respect for their secretaries. But Jack really knows the meaning of respect."

I had no doubt that Diane was shocked by Veronica's attire, but she hid it admirably. I offered to pour drinks, and Diane said she had more preparations to tend to. We left Veronica in the living room and slipped into the kitchen. As I opened a bottle of wine, and Diane stood at the stove, her curiosity could no longer be contained.

"So, does she dress that way at work?"

I chuckled to indicate I shared her surprise at Veronica's attire.

"No, it must just be her thing, you know, on a social level.

"She's quite striking, Jack. You never mentioned that your temp looks like Claudia Schiffer. You're lucky that I know you don't choose your own secretary."

"Funny. Well, you can rest comfortably knowing tomorrow is her last day."

I gave Diane her glass of wine and headed back to Veronica. She was seated comfortably, leaning back in our leather recliner with the footrest extended. In addition to her natural beauty, something about her leather outfit in the leather chair, contrasted by her bare thighs, was especially sexy, and as I handed her the glass, I was already hard.

"Show me your collar."

"Veronica. Ms. Harper, please" I whispered.

"I told you I wanted to have fun, Jack. And making you squirm for me is fun. Now show me you're still wearing my name tag."

I glanced quickly at the kitchen door, and then stepped back into the hallway, where Veronica could still see me, but where I'd be out of my wife's sightline if she should suddenly walk in. I undid my belt, lowered my pants, and exposed myself, property tag and all, to Veronica.

"Very good, Jack. Now come remove my boots and suck on my toes."

My nightmare was intensifying. Veronica knew I couldn't refuse her commands, because doing so would encourage her to reveal everything to Diane. Yet she was putting me at tremendous risk by demanding I submit to her in my own home, virtually in my wife's presence.

"And don't whine each time I tell you to do something, because I'm not going to give you a second chance. Now, come and serve your Mistress, slave."

And that was it. She had summed up my situation in one tidy sentence. Veronica knew I was going to serve her as she ordered me to. Though I loved only my wife, at the same time I was Veronica's slave, and my near bursting cock gave me no hope that I could refuse her.

I hurried to Veronica, removed her boots, and knelt down with my back to the kitchen. I lowered my head and sucked her toes, knowing that any second Diane could walk in. The scent of her feet made my head swoon, and was almost enough to transport me away from the horrifying reality of the scene. But not quite. I finished giving each toe individual attention as quickly as I could and stood up, retreating backwards into the hallway as I heard my wife enter the room.

I forced my rigid cock back into my pants and quietly zipped my fly as Diane sat down on the sofa at the end farthest from Veronica. The bulge in my pants was impossible to hide, so I made sure to turn with my back towards Diane when I walked past her. I sat beside her on the sofa and quickly crossed my legs to hide my bulge. With the footrest of the easy chair extended, Veronica's feet were only about two feet from my end of the sofa, and pointed directly at us. She began to wiggle her toes deliberately.

"Diane, I hope you don't mind my taking off my boots. My feet were suddenly feeling very cramped."

"No, that's perfectly okay. No reason why you should suffer."

"Thanks. Because, you know, some people might find it rude... especially if they were smelly. But, I don't think mine are smelly, do you Jack?"

My body tensed as I confronted the absurd question. What did she think I would do, bend forward and smell them? I glanced over at Diane, who stared at me with a blank, slightly quizzical expression.

"Well," I chuckled. "I certainly don't smell them from here."

"That's good. Although, and excuse me if this sounds crude, there are some people who are turned on by feet, even smelly feet."

"Oh, sure, foot fetishists," I quickly interjected, hoping my comment would break Veronica's monologue and allow me to change the subject, but she lifted one leg up about 6" off the footrest, stared admiringly at her own foot, and continued.

"I dated a man once who loved to worship my feet. Isn't that wild, Diane?"

"Yes. But you do have lovely feet Veronica, so it's not so unbelievable. Mine are not nearly as attractive."

"Oh, I'm sure you're just being kind. You mean Jack's never showed any interest in your feet?"

I had to try again to stop where this was going.

"Veronica, I don't know that this is such an appropriate topic of conversation."

"Oh, I know Jack, but after all, tomorrow's my last day working for you, so it's not really like a coworker is asking such a personal question. I just happen to enjoy learning about what turns people on. I'm sorry if I offended you Diane."

"No," Diane replied, somewhat taken aback, but surprisingly interested in the direction of the conversation. "You didn't. And it certainly does make for more interesting talk than the weather!"

"Oh, I'm so glad you feel that way."

"If you don't mind my saying so, Veronica, it looks from the way you dress that you like men to notice you in that "worship" sort of way."

I was shocked to see Diane pick up Veronica's lead and run with it. We never discussed anything remotely sexually related with others. Suddenly, I was merely a bystander as their conversation picked up steam.

"Mmm, you are very astute, Diane. That is precisely what gets my juices flowing; what about you?"

"Well, Jack is very adoring, but... Jack, maybe you should cover your ears, or leave the room or something," Diane joked, then turned back to Veronica "...but I don't think he'd go in for the type of thing we're talking about."

"You mean that "real worship" sort of thing?"

"Yes."

"Uh, ladies...," I interjected, but they ignored me as if I wasn't even sitting there.

"That "kneel and serve me" sort of thing?"

"Yes."

"That "be my slave" sort of thing?"

There was a sudden silence. My heart was pounding. Veronica stared at my wife as Diane blushed.

"Yes."

"Have you ever asked him?"

"Well... no."

The moment was surreal. Though Diane never talked publicly about our private life, here she was discussing something extremely intimate, and revealing to a stranger feelings she had never spoken about to me. If the growing intensity was any indication, she also seemed to be getting aroused by the conversation. I looked back and forth at the two of them; their eyes were locked on each others. They continued to talk as if I wasn't there.

"Perhaps you should."

"But, what if he doesn't...you know?"

"Or I can ask for you if you're too uncomfortable?"

There was another awkward silence. I looked over at Diane, but she did not look back at me. She was hesitating to answer Veronica's question, which Veronica took as an opening.

"So how about it, Jack? Diane seems to like the idea of you worshipping her in a "serve me and be my slave" sort of way. Does that turn you on, imagining yourself a slave?"

Diane looked at me in silence, waiting for my answer. If she only knew the irony of Veronica asking me that question. I looked back over at Veronica. The subject being discussed had only made my erection harder, yet I was speechless.

"I think his silence means he likes the idea Diane. But I also think it means you just have to take control. That's probably the encouragement he needs. Jack, why don't you start by giving Diane's feet some attention?"

Like a zombie, I turned back to look at my wife. She stared at me but said nothing. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

"Diane?" I asked, not really believing she expected me to do anything. Veronica filled the silence.

"Why don't you get on your knees Jack?"

The fantasy/reality had come full circle. Here was Veronica telling me to get on my knees, just as she had done each time she dominated me, but now in the presence of my wife, playing the role of surrogate dominatrix on Diane's behalf. How in the world had we gotten to this place? I still wasn't sure what Diane thought about all this. But then, Diane lifted her leg, and dangled her foot in front of me.

"Diane?" I asked again in a whisper, still needing confirmation. Diane spoke in a soft voice.

"I like Veronica's idea, Jack. And there's something about her sitting here, watching and instructing you, that feels so hot."

This was either about to become a nightmare or a dream come true, depending on what Veronica chose to say or not say. I dropped to my knees in front of the sofa, and took Diane's foot in my hands. In a flash, Veronica was out of her chair and positioned herself behind me, whispering in my ear.

"Take off her shoe, Jack."

I did, and proceeded to follow each successive instruction. I was still her slave, but now serving my wife at her command.

"Bury your face in the bottom of her foot, and take a deep breath. Now kiss it gently... Now lick it... Now suck on each toe, and clean between them with your tongue... Now ask her to let you be her slave."

"Diane, will you let me be your slave?"

"No, don't ask her. Beg her."

"Diane, please. I beg you to let me be your slave."

"Jack," Diane whispered, almost giddy. "I'm so wet."

"Tell her the other things you want, Jack. Now's your chance."

I was so turned on, but also terribly self-conscious and embarrassed at the prospect of telling Diane all my hidden fantasies. She obviously enjoyed my foot worship, but what if she found the others disgusting? Veronica played her trump card.

"Tell her Jack," she repeated, and then added in a voice so soft only I could hear her, "Or I will."

That was the final push I needed to confess all my secret desires to Diane. How aroused I got at the thought of being her slave and used in humiliating ways; how I wanted her to demand that I serve her, how I wanted to have to beg to worship her feet and her ass, and even to be used as her toilet.

When I finished, I lowered my head, not knowing what to do next. I heard Veronica putting her boots back on.

"If it's okay with you Diane, how about if I come back another time for dinner. I think you two probably want to be alone now."

"Thank you so much," Diane replied.

"Jack, I'll call you in the morning to see if you want me to come into work for my last day. If it feels too awkward, I'll understand."

And with that, Veronica left our home, having successfully transformed Diane and my sexual lives. Before joining Diane in the bedroom, I was able to slip away and remove Veronica's ownership tag from my cock. And as I headed for my first performance as my wife's slave, I thought back to my phone conversation with Veronica that afternoon and remembered her final words about this evening: "If you're very good, you may even get to cum."