"Come for me, little slave."
As soon as he gave permission, my body lost control. I rubbed the vibrating cock against my clit as a wave of tension rose and then broke over me. My heels jarred on the side of the desk as my legs trembled.
"Fuck it," he said.
I moaned through my orgasm and pushed the cock into me. I was so wet it slid straight in, the cool jelly warming quickly. I pushed down on the cock and the tip inside me pushed upwards, still vibrating. Oh god, I loved this position. To have Mr. Stone over me with his cock buried deep in my pussy, pressing my legs back against my chest. I pulled the cock out of me and slid it back in with another gasp. My orgasm had stretched out and this new buzzing from inside threatened to undo me completely.
"I want you to scream for me little slave," Mr. Stone commanded.
There was a click to my right and a black wall-screen turned on. I saw myself from above, my legs spread obscenely with red heels on the side of Mr. Stone's desk. I was fucking myself with the vibrator and my face and body were flushed red. Then the image changed to a naked man only seen from the thighs up to his chest. It was Mr. Stone. I moaned as I saw him grip his throbbing cock and stroke it in time to me fucking myself.
"Scream for me," he commanded and I let go entirely. I screamed in pleasure as I came, my legs moving together and apart and my hips jolting uncontrollably. I heard Mr. Stone give a sharp intake of air and then I saw him come, a powerful hot stream shooting out of his cock. I wanted it, wanted him to be here with me, fucking me.
Finally the waves of pleasure diminished and I slipped the vibrator out of me, feeling a final burst of warm as the tip of it touched my sensitive clit. My eyelids were doubly heavy now and through my unfocused vision I saw Mr. Stone stand up before the screen shut off, returning to black.
"You have done well, little slave. Get dressed and go."
He was breathing heavily and I smiled at the idea of him coming from watching me fucking myself with a vibrator. I turned it off and dropped it back into its drawer. Then I pushed myself away from the desk and stood up, my legs wobbling like jelly.
Through all that I'd kept hold of the leather collar in my hand and I was tempted to put it on, just for him.
He must have read my mind again.
"Leave the collar," he commanded, his voice returning to normal.
I placed it on the desk and then used it to help myself walk around the other side. As I got dressed the blinds rose and the lights returned to full strength. By the time I was buttoning my blouse the office was bright and airy and you could almost believe nothing had happened here.
I looked up at the ceiling where there had to be a camera. I couldn't see it but I knew Mr. Stone was still watching. When I heard the lock of his door click open, I looked up and blew him a kiss.
Then I poked out my tongue and got the hell out of there before he had a chance to lock the door.
As it closed behind me I heard him laugh.
*
I spent a few minutes in the ladies room on the bottom floor to cool myself off before leaving the building. My neck and cheeks seemed determined to stay flushed with spots of red no matter what and in the mirrored elevator on the way down I saw myself looking precisely like a girl who'd just had some spectacular orgasms. A young clean-cut man in a suit did a bit of a double-take when he saw me and then smiled to himself all the way to the lobby.
Once I was outside it got a little better. It was still mid-afternoon, getting close to four and there was a cool breeze sweeping down the street. I knew I didn't officially finish until five but there was no way I could stay in the office after what had just happened.
I walked down the street towards my bus-stop grinning like an idiot the whole way.
The next day at the office was filled with more emailed tasks from Mr. Stone and I got through most of the day without being sidetracked by thoughts of him. I didn't find any more information on business in my home town and I wasn't yet ready to start snooping around without direct instruction just yet.
I don't know why I thought this but some part of me started to believe that whatever Stone-Black had done, Mr. Stone hadn't been involved. I had no reason for this idea except that it seemed at odds with the direction the company had taken under his control. They were working in solar technology and even had a branch working on plastics reclamation. There were many many fingers in many many pies but it seemed at least a good half of them were not, well, evil. Strictly speaking.
I say that I didn't think of Mr. Stone much but I did think a few things and then found the door to his office locked when I tried it.
Damn.
I returned from lunch (again at the cafe that took approximately four-point-six million years to make a sandwich) to find a pale golden A4 envelope sitting on my desk.
I sat down and tried to wipe the silly grin off my face. I had to get a hold of myself! I picked up the envelope and smelt his scent and bam, back came that silly grin. I opened it to find an invitation.
Saturday 7pm.
Mi-oh will pick you up on Saturday to go shopping. You will need a dress, shoes and something sexy.
Do not disobey me.
I shivered when I read that last line and immediately planned on how I could disobey him in some way. His office was locked so I couldn't go in there again. He was out of the office and it looked like I wouldn't see him until Saturday night. I'd just have to improvise that night.
*
The rest of the week zipped by in a blur of work and soon it was Saturday. I spent the morning half doing housework and half watching home renovation shows. I'd just finished a late lunch when Mi-oh rang and told me she'd be downstairs in fifteen minutes.
I quickly changed into what could be called my "best" casual clothes and then spend the rest of the time thinking I should just dress in my business clothes. I'm sure Mr. Stone wouldn't be sending Mi-oh in a limo just to take me to Kmart.
I met Mi-oh downstairs and found her standing beside a pitch-black Bentley wearing a tweed cap, white shirt and red braces like she'd stepped out of some English 1920s bar after playing a spot of cricket.
"You look amazing," I told her as she opened the door.
"Thank you," she said and grinned at me.
She closed the door behind me and we were off. Soon we were chatting away about how obsessed we both were with home remodeling shows and I didn't realize where we were going until she pulled us over and I looked out the window.
Billion-dollar brand. Billion-dollar brand with a little horse logo. French boutique. A shoe shop I know I saw on one of those life-styles of the rich and famous shows once. Places you didn't even go into, not even as a joke, in case you sneezed on a tiny top and had to take out a second mortgage to pay for it.