AllFreeNovel
Share Us
/>
“It’s on my schedule.”
“Good.” Ellington nodded his head and took one last look at my ass and left the room.
“Whew! The humiliation becomes her,” Joel exclaimed. “There’s nothing like the rosy blush on her face when she’s embarrassed… except perhaps the one on her ass.”
I hadn’t been told to rise, so I remained bent with my face toward my master. “Joel, you can leave now. I need a few minutes with Skye.”
“Well, thanks for sharing. We’ll have to do this again.” He walked out, much to my relief, although now I was faced with Preston alone. Once the door closed, my humiliation seemed to expand far beyond its previous limits.
“I push you because I know what you want, Skye.”
“Yes, sir.” He was absolutely right. He had me in the palm of his hand and I was helpless. My heart and loins beat for him. My dignity was gone. All I had to do was pull myself off his desk, walk out the door, and leave him forever. But I would never do that.
“You can stand.”
That was some relief.
As I followed the order, I took a deep breath trying to gather my wits.
“A question, sir?”
“What’s that?”
“Does everyone here know? About our arrangement?”
“Far as I know, Joel and I are the office perverts. Ellington? Now he knows something. But he won’t care, as long as he figures you participate freely, and we know you do.”
I waited for several uncomfortable seconds until Preston spoke again. “You can go now.”
“Yes, sir.” I left quickly, returning to my desk and sitting on my wounded bottom, remembering my humiliation every time I moved. I opened my email to find a message waiting for me, succinct and simple. From [email protected]
Be at peace, my Syke, there will be so much more you don’t expect.
Chapter Nine
Small consolations came in small doses. A quick email, a brief glance, the unexpected touch of his hand in public. Was I reading into these tiny acts a bigger relationship? I know I did. Even while I was imagining more from Preston Lockhart, I knew I was being foolish. But I couldn’t stop the hunger from surfacing. My appetite for him, for his instructions, his demands, his orders, his imperious looks, cool grim expressions and extraordinary energy of lust, only expanded with each day that passed. My hunger became my obsession—and Preston knew that. He knew he had me firmly bound by the promise of our erotic game.
He began to ask for me at lunchtime. He’d have me close the door behind me, drop to my knees and crawl to him, unzip his pants with my teeth and give him a blow job until he creamed my face with his cum. At first, it was strange being in such close proximity to his flesh. I assumed that he was rarely so intimate with women, and so I treasured the act, giving myself lovingly to his pleasure. I prayed for a night in bed with him—though that seemed to be far from his mind.
The oral sex was rarely passionate—just a way for him to release. He would tangle his fingers in my hair, sometimes push my face into his groin more deeply, at other times grip my scalp and give it rude, hair-pulling tug. The sensation radiated to my crotch, which lit up like a Christmas tree. Oh! How I prayed for a night in bed with him!.
Sometimes he’d slink further in his chair, drop his pants, and spread his legs apart. I’d suckle his balls, roll his weighty scrotum across my palm and tongue him deep inside his crotch, underneath. Quiet shudders would rip his body, shake it hard in the moment he came. One day, after we finished and he was put back together in his typically faultless way, I wiped my mouth, and he casually made an unexpected demand. “Bring me a copy of your house key before you leave today.”
“My house key?”
“Yes, your house key.” He hated having to repeat himself, but this time I was so surprised by the request that I couldn’t mask the fact.
I had lunch out of the office that day, spending the entire hour getting a copy made of my apartment key. When I handed it to him, I had to ask, “Can you tell me when you plan to visit?”
“No. I’ll visit when it suits me. Property doesn’t have the right to question. Property exists solely for the pleasure of their owner. Their single duty is to be available to fulfill their master’s needs.”
My life became colored by this new dimension of anticipation. My hours in the office had not been mine to plan for some months; now he took away the freedom in my private time as well. Though his demands on me in off hours were few, and often quickly over, there was rarely an hour in my day that I wasn’t waiting for his call, or the knock on the door, or more commonly, the turn of the key in the lock. I think he only called twice to see if I was home before he arrived, and even then, he didn’t tell me if he was coming for a visit. The first time he let himself inside no more than a half-hour later. The second time I waited up nearly half the night, and he never showed.
When he did come to my apartment, it was usually around eleven—and as often as three nights a week. He wanted the same sort of blowjobs he had in his office, but we got more explicit without the threat of exposure hanging over us. He would lay out on the bed, naked at his groin, and have me suck his dick to a huge erection… an act that took just seconds. I would move down to his scrotum, giving it the same loving attention I’d perfected in the office, and then sink deeper still. Lifting his ass off the mattress, I’d part his cheeks and rim his anus, jacking his dick until he was about to come. Then, with my fingers toying with his anus, my mouth returned to his cock, covering it, swallowing it, blowing it off until he shot down my throat. I gulped, taking every bit of his frothy jism.
His visits were no more than extended versions of the blowjobs in his office. Although that didn’t prevent me from the hope that soon, very soon, I’d have all of him in bed with me, loving me as much as I loved him.
