My Secretary, My Mistress

Chapter Two

On Monday, Grant arrived at the office early and paced its length waiting for Isabelle to arrive. That is if, she had the guts to face him after what she’d done. He’d tried calling her over the weekend, but she must have been screening her calls, because he’d ended up reaching her voicemail each time. He’d thought about confronting her at home, but he’d only seen where she lived once in the dark while drunk. In the light of day when he’d driven by, the daunting row of townhouses had all looked the same and he’d refused to drive to the office like a desperate lovesick swain to look up her address.

He had mixed feelings about what she’d done to him on Friday. He’d finally managed to release himself from her duct tape bondage after much straining and rubbing against his desk. The marks of his struggle to escape were now hidden by his dress shirt’s long sleeves. He hadn’t been able to hide all the evidence of his torture when he’d finally fled that night, however. His suit jacket hadn’t quite been able to conceal the stains of his cum, an embarrassing fact the security guard downstairs had noticed with a smirk.

I still can’t believe she tied me up and used me as if I were some kind of sex toy-one that gives great tongue. Never mind that he’d enjoyed himself as well. Isabelle had called the shots and he knew that had he not come on his own, she would have left him tied up and suffering with a massive erection.

But the worst part of it all was that he wanted to do it again.

All weekend long, he’d fantasized about her. He wanted her to take charge of him again, for the experience had been nothing short of amazing. And now having had a taste of her kinky, dominant side, his Internet porn pictures and videos now paled in comparison. He needed Isabelle.

Fuck, I’m rock hard again. Unlike at home this weekend, he couldn’t just whack off, although for a second he debated locking his office door and doing so. Or maybe leaving the door unlocked and having her walk in as he did it. Grant almost came in his pants at the thought.

Where in hell is she? Grant went to his office door and peered out for what had to be the hundredth time.

As if his thoughts had called her, in she walked, looking demure and unbelievably sexy in a simple flower print dress that emphasized her generous bosom and hourglass shape.

Grant’s mouth went dry as his overactive brain imagined what she wore-or rather, what she didn’t-underneath her prim outfit.

“Isabelle, could you come in here for a minute?” he asked quietly, standing to the side of his door lest she see the tent in his pants.

Her baby blue eyes met his, and she curved her lips in a little smile. “I’m sorry, Grant, but I’ve got a pile of work to do. Can this wait until later?”

He wanted to argue with her, to force her to come into his office, but both of their phones rang before he could and, to his frustration, he found himself busy the rest of the morning.

When the noon hour arrived, he decided to ask Isabelle out to lunch-for sustenance, not sex-unless she had other ideas.

However, she wasn’t at her desk when he emerged from his office.

Damn it. She’s avoiding me. Kind of like he’d avoided her after they’d first had sex. Grant hated payback, especially when he was on the receiving end.

But he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Isabelle listened absently to the handsome fellow she’d snagged as a lunch date. She had no interest in him at all. He was just another tool in her plan. And seeing Grant walk into the bistro across the street from the office, she implemented step two.

Leaning forward and catching Derek-or was it Darren?-by surprise, she whispered in his ear, something so naughty his eyes widened. Then Isabelle flicked a glance at Grant, who watched them with a thunderous look on his face.

She curved her lips in a naughty smile and kept up the intimate talk and touches with her temporary pawn until Grant left the bistro tight lipped and stiff legged. With her audience gone, she abruptly stood, leaving Darren-or was it Derek?-confused.

“Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.

Isabelle paid him no mind as she walked out of the bistro and headed for her nail salon. She wanted to be gone from the office long enough to give Grant the wrong idea.

With her tummy tingling, she had to hold in the urge to giggle. She couldn’t wait to see the sparks fly when she got back.

The longer Isabelle stayed out for lunch, the more Grant simmered. He’d already sneaked back to the bistro and seen that she and the other man-a man he longed to punch out-were no longer there. Had they gone off somewhere together? Was she even now letting that stranger touch her?

No. She’s mine! Grant cursed and punched the wall in his office. The pain of impact had him sucking his knuckles and bringing his anger and insane jealousy back under control. He didn’t understand his sudden possessiveness. All he knew was that he wanted to be the only one she touched and aroused.

He didn’t want to share her, but she obviously didn’t feel the same way. And when she sauntered in almost forty-five minutes later with a smile on her face and freshly coiffed hair, Grant glowered. He hated not being in control, even if the situation excited him.

“Whatever is wrong?” she asked when she finally came into his office. Her face was all smiles and sunshine.

“How was your lunch?” he snapped, unable to stop the insane jealousy that consumed him.

Isabelle’s lips curved in a sensual smile that made him, even in his anger, go rock hard.

“Delicious,” she said with a purr.

Grant growled in response. He had no right to feel jealous, because he’d been the one to ignore her the week before. But damn it, he regretted that now.

“Listen, Isabelle,” he said, “about what happened…”

“Don’t worry, Grant. I understand perfectly. You don’t want to be with me, and I’m sorry about what I did to you on Friday. It was terribly naughty of me. I promise it won’t ever happen again.”

Then, with a wiggle of her heart shaped ass, she left, closing his door behind her and leaving Grant despondent.

How could he make her understand that he wanted things to change? That he yearned for her to take charge of him again?

Isabelle sat at her desk and smiled. She’d seen the confusion on Grant’s face-and the desire, as well. But he hadn’t quite reached the point of needing her more than he needed air to breathe. But he’s close.

Her plan was moving along perfectly. Actually, she’d almost completed the first phase-the conquering of her boss. Soon Grant, a commanding male in public, would be groveling at her feet. She couldn’t wait to hear him beg. Just the thought of him being on his knees, ready to indulge her every whim, made the crotch of her panties go wet.

With a quick peek to see that no one was coming, she slipped off her damp panties and stuffed them into the top drawer of her desk on top of her Rolodex.

One quick phone call later, she’d set the next part of her operation in motion. Fighting hard not to giggle in excitement-although the crux of her thighs was damp-she gathered her coat and purse and ducked out of the office early. Her next destination? Home, where she needed to get ready for the night’s upcoming adventure.

A firm knock at his door made Grant frown. That didn’t sound like Isabelle. “Come in.”

The door opened, and a freckled faced intern peeked in. “Excuse me, sir, but I’ve got an urgent package for Ms. Isabelle Garret. She doesn’t seem to be at her desk.”

Grant glanced at the clock. Still a few minutes shy of quitting time. He got up and walked into the vestibule “Is her coat gone?”

The boy shrugged.

Grant looked around and noticed that the coat tree now held only his jacket, and that Isabelle’s computer had been shut down. She left early without saying a word to me?

“Just leave the package on her desk. She’ll see it in the morning.”

“Oh no, sir.” The intern shook his head. “I was told to give this to Ms. Garret today personally,”

“I see.” A thought popped into Grant’s head and refused to leave. “Why don’t you give it to me? I have to go out her way anyhow, and I’ll make sure she gets it tonight.” The lie slipped smoothly from his lips.

The freckled faced young man didn’t catch the lie or care. With another shrug and a brief thank you, he handed over the package and left.

Now to find Isabelle’s address. Grant pulled open the top drawer of her desk where he’d seen her hide the Rolodex. He paused and with a hooked finger, pulled out a skimpy scrap of lace. Isabelle’s underwear.

Unable to resist, he brought the panties to his face and inhaled. Her sweet scent surrounded him, and the dampness of her juices wet his lips.

Suddenly more randy than a teenager watching his first porn video, Grant walked back into his office and locked the door. If he didn’t want to embarrass himself with Isabelle, he should take care of his turgid problem before he reached her place.

Unzipping his slacks, he pushed them down, sat in his chair, and pulled out his hard cock. Wrapping the soft, scented panties around his shaft, he stroked himself. He closed his eyes and put his head back, breathing deeply of her scent, which seemed to permeate the air. He thought of the tiny piece of fabric being so close to her body, intimately so. He stroked himself visualizing her perfect pink pussy, remembering how she’d tasted when she’d come on his tongue.

Stifling a shout, Grant shot his load into her panties, his rigid cock pulsing.

Damn. Even absent, she packed a potent sexual punch.

After redressing, he scribbled her address on a sheet of paper and exited the office, the soiled panties tucked into his pocket and the package under his arm.

Tonight, he’d make Isabelle see they were meant for each other. But first, he needed a quick shower and a shave.

He wanted to be at his best when he tried to convince her.

Isabelle answered the door in a short silky robe that gaped to reveal the curved swell of her breasts. Grant bit back a groan and restrained an urge to sweep her up into his arms and devour her. Or how about dropping to my knees and sliding my face between the folds of her robe to nuzzle that sweet pussy?

She seemed surprised to see him, but let him into her front hallway.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms under her tits, which only pushed them together more temptingly instead of hiding them.

“Delivering a package.” He handed it over. And I’ve got a bigger package for you between my legs. Grant couldn’t seem to stop the dirty thoughts from running mental images in his head. He had to make her see how much he needed her. How much he wanted her.

“Thanks for bringing it. Bye.” She turned and walked away, heading off into the recesses of her townhome.

“Isabelle, wait,” he cried, following her.

She whirled, her eyes flashing. “What do you want from me?”

“You,” he said. “Only you.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she said coldly.

He hesitated, wondering if he should leave. The thought of never touching her again held him in place, however, and gave him the courage to try again. “Listen, can’t we start over? I made a mistake. I see that now. I want to be with you. What can I do to prove that?”

“Would you do anything?” With a crooked smile, she walked back toward him, the edges of her robe flapping open, displaying the fact that she wore nothing underneath. She looked at him expectantly with one arched brow.

His mouth went dry, and he whispered, “Anything,”

“Be careful what you promise.”

“Tell me what I have to do to prove myself to you.” He would do anything just to touch her again-or, even better, to have her touch him. “Please, Isabelle.”

“Will you let me do whatever I want? Will you let me punish you again and use you in whatever way I see fit?”

“Yes.” Grant shuddered at her words. Quick flashes of the images he’d saved on the hard drive inside his mind ran through his head. Could he be so lucky? “I will do anything you command…“

She smiled.

Grant paused, and then remembered the one word he’d longed to say since he’d first seen her dressed in dominatrix gear. “Mistress.”

“Come with me then, my pet.” She turned again and strode away, her round ass swinging beneath her satiny robe.

Already hard and shaking from the promise he’d seen in her smile, Grant followed eagerly behind her as she led him into her bedroom. A room he vaguely recalled from the Saturday he’d drunkenly seduced her. Or had it been the other way around? Perhaps she’d seduced him instead.

“Strip and wait for me,” she ordered. Then she left the room.

Grant quickly complied, shucking his clothes and piling them on her dresser until he stood naked and erect. Anticipation thrummed through him.

Her voice drifted to him from the next room. “Lie on the bed on your stomach, with your arms and legs spread.”

They were easy instructions to understand, but hard ones to follow with a cock that didn’t want to be crushed. Tucking it under his stomach, Grant lay on the bed and spread his limbs as she had commanded. His shaft beat against his lower belly like a separate being.

Lying there unable to see anything with the crux of his thighs open, he felt exposed and strangely vulnerable. His dominant side, which emerged mostly at work, wanted him to get up and stand in a position of equal footing when she finally returned. But his kinky, submissive side tingled as he waited breathlessly for what she had planned.

He had a feeling it would be worth it.

Isabelle flushed with excitement over Grant’s quick capitulation. As she slid into her one piece latex cat suit, thoughts of what the night might bring ran like a kinky movie inside her head, and her fingers grew clumsy. Oh, the things I’m going to do to him.

Slipping on her high heels, she grabbed the red lipstick off her vanity and traced the line of her full lips. Finally ready, she strutted out to her bedroom, her tummy tingling with excitement to see Grant's powerful nude body lying spread eagle on her bed.

She could tell he was aware of her presence by the way his body stiffened. Wanting to stretch out the moment and knowing just how vulnerable he must feel, she looked him over slowly, from his finely shaped calves, to the heavy balls between his thighs. With a smile, she walked over to her bed and with one manicured nail, traced a line that started at his ankle and travelled up one of his firm, muscled legs, rounded one of his tense buttocks, and finally crawled up the broad expanse of his back. She had so much of him with which to play.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Grant.”

He shuddered at her words. Not the response she wanted. She tweaked one of his ass cheeks, and he yelped.

“The correct answer is yes, mistress.”

“Yes, mistress,” he repeated, a smile filling his voice.

He didn’t seem to be taking the situation quite seriously enough. He thought they were just having fun and playing a game. By the end of the night, however, he’d know differently.

She knelt on the bed between his spread legs and dug her fingers into his thighs. His body shook. Then she traced a line down the crevice of his ass with one finger. Immediately, he clenched his cheeks tight. She frowned at his back. She didn’t like being denied. She tickled his balls in hopes that he’d relax, but his cheeks remained tightly clenched.

“Relax,” she commanded.

He shook his head. “I don’t like to be touched there.”

That wasn’t the right answer. Getting off the bed, Isabelle pulled a chair out from the wall and sat in it. “Come drape yourself over my knees.”

“Why?” He turned to look her, his eyes confused. "I don't understand. What are you going to do?"

“Either do as I say, or you can leave now.” She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them out of her costume. "Do you understand?"

“Yes, mistress.” He swallowed hard and got off the bed, his towering figure casting a shadow over her.

She looked up at him with a stern face. His curious urge to comply was obviously warring with his masterful side, but his curiosity won out. Without questioning her any further, he folded his long frame over her knees. His knees touched the floor on one side, while his head hung down on the other. He braced his hands on the floor so as to not crush her with his weight.

Isabelle smiled when his rigid cock brushed her thigh. The sight of his pale, tightly clenched buttocks proved irresistible. She ran her hand across them, over and over, gently stroking him until he relaxed.

Crack! The slap of her hand against his bare flesh echoed loudly in the room-as did Grant’s curse when he jumped up and rubbed his offended posterior.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed.

“Get back over my knee right now,” she commanded, pointing to her lap. The first moment of truth had arrived. Would Grant let her take control? Would he let her punish him?

Grant’s ass stung but truth be told, the pain made his cock harder even as the action shocked him.

She’d spanked him without either warning or remorse, and now she sat there looking like a fucking goddess, waiting expectantly in a one piece suit made to tempt a man to sin. Pointing at her lap again, she just looked at him, her expression daring him to forget the rules he’d been taught all his life about normal sex games.

How would she like it if I turned the tables right now and flipped her over my knee and spanked her?

If Grant weren’t so aroused and scared of being told to leave, he just might try it, even though he knew he would never intentionally hurt her. He wanted to worship her. I want her to hit me again. I’ve read about men being spanked and while I never thought I’d try it, I have to admit I’m curious. I need to step out of my safe zone and try this. If I don’t and leave now, I’ll always wonder what it would have been like.

He draped himself over her lap again, rubbing his knees against her carpeted floor while his hands curled in the carpet fibers on the other side of her legs, ready to tense at the next smack. Her latex suit felt rubbery and odd against his throbbing cock as it pushed against her thigh. He held himself rigid, knowing he should relax, but anticipation made him unable to do so.

A soft, feathery touch tickled over the skin of his buttocks. A touch that became firmer as Isabelle kneaded his muscles and skin. Almost unwillingly, he loosened up, her soothing caress proving to be irresistible. When the slap finally came, because he’d been expecting it this time, he didn’t rear up and actually managed to bite off the exclamation that came to his lips.

“Good boy,” she murmured.

A surge of pleasure rushed through him. “Thank you, mistress.”

She resumed the caresses, interspersed with smacks. Some soft, some hard. To his amazement, he soon forgot the pain and began looking forward to the slaps, the skin of his ass warming feverishly and his breathing coming faster.

Every so often she asked him short queries, such as, “Do you like that?”

And he replied fervently, “Yes, mistress.”

The spanking continued, and he now looked forward to each stroke, arching his back to offer his buttocks to her temptingly. And this time, when her hand slipped between his cheeks, he didn’t clench his legs together and thus enjoyed the scrape of her nails along the underside of his balls. That simple touch made him buck against her leg, and she laughed before she slapped him.

Forgoing the caresses on his ass, she now alternated between slapping his cheeks and stroking his balls and the skin inside his crevice. He tensed slightly when her finger probed at his manhole, then quickly moved away from the taboo spot back to his balls. But as her slaps quickened, he noticed that her fingers returned to his anus more often and that the probes became more insistent.

A sudden flurry of slaps alternating between his cheeks had him moaning helplessly. Then the next probe of his butthole became an outright plunge of her finger that hit a sensitive spot he’d never known existed. With a yell, he shot his load against her thigh and collapsed weakly across her lap.

Isabelle stroked him lightly, the bright red skin of his ass shining prettily at her. And while her hand might be sore from spanking him, it had been well worth it to see him lose control. Not to mention that she’d accomplished her first minor assault against an orifice he’d labeled as off limits. Already she had him crossing lines he’d never imagined. But now it was her turn to be pleasured.

With one last slap to his abused posterior, she said, “Get up.”

“Yes, mistress,” Grant croaked, raising his head and turning his passion lidded eyes on her. He unbent himself from her legs and stood unsteadily in front of her.

Seeing this man, who had thought himself so powerful, humbled by her was a heady feeling-not to mention, an erotic one.

She spread her legs wide and showed him the special slit in the crotch of her suit. His eyes widened, and she laughed at his moan when she spread her pink folds that peeked out.

He avidly tracked the movement of her finger as it glided back and forth against her sex. Then she held out her finger, which was damp with her juices. He immediately grasped what she wanted and fell to his knees in front of her, his mouth eagerly suckling the finger drenched in her essence. Isabelle withdrew the digit from his mouth and arched her pelvis forward. With a moan of excitement, he slid his big hands under her buttocks and pulled her forward, drawing the most intimate part of her up to his mouth like a feast.

And feed on her he did. His moist tongue delved between her plump lips and lapped at her. She looked down to find his eyes closed in rapture, the lower half of his face hidden between her thighs as he gorged himself on her flesh.

Isabelle sighed in pleasure.

His mouth found her sensitive clit, and he flicked his tongue against it with lightening quick touches that had her closing her eyes and throwing her head back at the erotic sensations. But she wanted more than just his tongue.

Reaching blindly beside her, her hands touched the cold wood of her bedside table. Fumbling only slightly, she opened the top drawer and grabbed the first toy she could wrap her hand around.

A large rubber dildo.

Grant noticed her distraction and opened his eyes. Isabelle waved her toy in front of him. He let go of her pussy for a second and with a wide smile, took the fake penis from her. He cocked a brow at her, and Isabelle giggled.

Her play phallus was rather dauntingly thick, but she wanted that girth along with his tongue.

“It will fit, just be sure to slide it in slowly,” she murmured.

She watched with slitted eyes as he probed her sex with the object's wide head and gasped as he slowly inched it into her, stretching her until she thought she might split. But damn, it feels good.

“Now lick me,” she urged, grabbing his hair.

He needed no prompting. Diving forward, he renewed his energetic licking and sucking. Isabelle thrashed as he pumped her flesh with the large phallus, its bulbous tip hitting her womb and sending electric jolts throughout her.

The rushing roller coaster that was her desire roared to a peak as his tongue flicked her clit and his hand worked the large dildo inside of her faster and faster. The sensations overwhelmed her, and she reached her peak. With a scream, she bucked as her orgasm tore through her.

Isabelle cried out, only vaguely surprised when Grant joined her. Her body quivered with many pleasurable ripples of release and the tremors in her body didn't ease for several moments. She opened her eyes to see Grant slumped in front of her, one of his hands still wrapped around his cock. His spent cock.

A pleasurable end to the first round of his training. She wondered if the next escalation would be as easy.