AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My mind was awhirl at what he was up to, but I knew instinctively it wasn’t going to be good.
It certainly wasn’t going to be a tip.
I clapped a hand over my mouth again, cursing myself silently at my stupidity. Cracking into crazed nervous laughter was not exactly going to make the situation better, whatever it was he had planned.
He walked down the hallway toward his bedroom, but then stopped along the wall next to the entrance to his office. He spun, facing me, stabbing a finger at the floor in front of him. “Come here.”
Now I was really concerned what it was he had in mind. “Um, what’s happening here?”
But he didn’t answer me, his brilliant eyes flashing. His gaze never wavered as he waited, watching me. I reluctantly walked to the indicated spot. I was so close I could smell his cologne, and I hated that it made my mouth water. It smelledsogood, and yet I was quite obviously frightened, standing so close to him. I had no idea what it was he was going to do, but I was about to find out.
“You see this coin here on this wall?” He slapped the quarter against the painted surface, looking back at me accusingly. “Get those hands behind your head. Fingers laced together just like I’ve told you before.”
For the briefest of moments, I considered disobeying him. This wasn’t part of the deal, not officially. But after the spanking I had taken at his hands, we both knew that pretty much whatever he said, I was expected to obey without question. My face flaming hot, I did as he indicated. My fingers trembled as I brought them together, my palms resting upon the softness of my hair.
I hated how the position lifted my tits, that even in the shirt I was in it seemed to display them, present them to him.
He made no attempt to hide the fact that his gaze lowered to my breasts, a low hum of approval—or perhaps something else—slipping from his lips as he did. “As I told you before, I’m a big believer in starting as I intend to go. When you fuck things up, I’m going to correct you. That starts today, on your very first day. I assumed you’d be on your best behavior starting on a job like this, but I can see this is going to be more of a training job than I initially expected.” His gaze shifted up to mine, satisfaction dancing in his eyes. “But I havenoproblem taking care of that actually. I quite enjoy it, to be frank.”
My mouth went so dry my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I didn’t even attempt to say anything, so embarrassed I could barely resist looking away from him. Somehow, I knew that would make things worse, that trying to look elsewhere, anywhere, would be a sign of… disrespect?
Is he your boss, or your drill sergeant?
“Now, I want you take your cute little nose and press it to this coin. And God help you—and your disobedient little ass—if that coin drops to the floor. You’re going to stand here at the wall, at attention, and think about what it is I expect from my employees. What my expectations are of someone I trust to do the best job that can possibly done in cleaning my home.”
Oh, dear God.
But he was serious. So embarrassed I thought my face might catch fire, I did as he asked, moving toward the wall, leaning in until the metal was cold against the tip of my nose. His finger was pulled away, and then he took a step behind me. I could sense the pressure of his body on the air, and it made my skin tingle, even as I dreaded the humiliating tableau I formed for him pressing a coin to the wall with my nose like some recalcitrant punished girl.
Of all the things I thought might happen that day, or how my first interaction with Mr. Winters as his employee would go, not in a million years would I have guessed this would happen.
And yet your pussy is so wet, you’re going to need a change of panties.
For a minute or two—I wasn’t really sure—I stood there at that wall, my nose pushed firmly against the quarter, Mr. Winters watching from somewhere behind me.
His voice finally sounded then, so low it vibrated in my chest. “I expected better from you, Ms. Grant. How do you feel about your predicament right now? Do you like the fact that I had to punish my employee on herfirstday on the job? Do you think that maybe my assessment of you as being capable and reliable, as someone who will keep her word was at all off the mark? I’mspeakingto you, Lola.”
I swallowed hard at that, unsure whether or not his questions were rhetorical or not. “I’m… I’m not really sure what to say, Mr. Winters. I’m sorry? Like I said, I won’t let it happen—”
My words died in my throat, as his strong, hard hand spread upon my upper back between my shoulder blades. He pushed me against the wall firmly, until my tits ballooned flat against the cold plaster. I made a soft sound of protest in my throat, but didn’t have the courage to resist more than that.
My heart was in my throat, and yet I was more excited in that moment than I wanted to admit. It was fright, anticipation, and then almost an eagerness to see what it was he would do next.
I had zero frame of reference for how to act around a man who was so unafraid to handle me, to do whatever he wanted with me. It was both unsettling and an incredible turn-on all at once.
Even though I knew it probably made me a terrible person, Ilikedmen who weren’t afraid to manhandle a woman. It had always turned me on, even though it wasn’t exactly something that I readily admitted to anyone.
Apparently satisfied that I was pressed humiliatingly enough against the wall, his hand eased its pressure but its touch remained upon me, his palm coursing down the center of my back, his fingers testing my flesh here and there. It was an unhurried, almost possessive way that he touched me, and I wanted to lean into it. But I knew, somehow, that that wasn’t my place, in that moment.
Down, down some more he went, his fingers submerging under the waistband of my yoga pants. My breath caught in my throat as he slowly but surely tugged the hem of my shirt out from the clutch of my pants. Then just as casually, he pushed the shirt back up my torso, baring my skin inch by inch to his gaze. Then my bra was exposed, and both of his hands were on me, bunching the fabric of my shirt at the backs of my shoulders.
He made a sound of what I thought was mild irritation, as if the fact my arms were linked above were getting in his way. He took hold of my right arm, drawing it away and down, his hand like a manacle about my wrist. Then he angled it so that he could draw my limb back through the arm of my shirt until it bunched atop my shoulder. Then slowly, wordlessly, he returned my hand to the back of my head.
“Keep that hand there until I tell you otherwise.”
“Oh… okay.”
He repeated the same process with my other arm, again bringing it back, pressing that other hand to the back of my head. He forced me to lace my fingers together once more. Both of his palms coursed down the naked flesh of my back exploring every inch of me. His fingers made quick work of the clasp of my bra, and I whimpered as it snapped loose, the band hanging down at either side, suspended by the bra straps.
