Over The Boss' Knee Page 3

  "Oh, bad, bad girl," she moaned.

  Tess thrust her fingers in and out, making a sloppy sound as the burning cheeks of her ass swayed. "Oh yeah, bad, bad. Oh! Ah!" She came so hard she couldn’t believe it was the second time in a row, as she panted.

  Minutes later, she became more aware of her position, kneeling on her boss' desk chair with her panties pulled down her thighs. She couldn't believe this was happening, but her mind wouldn’t let her focus on that, all it focused on was, need ... and more.

  Chapter Four

  For several months she and Mr. Carlson fell into a type of routine — once a week he'd tie her up and spank her over his lap or over the chair using his hand, then twice a month they'd do a weekend session. On those weekend sessions, she could use more ear-splitting wails and he could use more objects to paddle her with. So far they'd used different riding crops, a ruler, a hairbrush, and a small birch cane. The other part she'd worked out was the sluttier she dressed the more money she could make off Mr. Carlson. The only sad part of this new and exciting arrangement was she still didn’t have a boyfriend to enjoy the horniest time in her life.

  She'd been seriously thinking of asking her boss if he had any single friends she might date, because she was missing cock so bad. Of course she wouldn’t tell Mr. Carlson that she was jonesing after some thick man-meat. They were strictly nonsexual bondage - slash- spanking partners.

  Then it happened. Out of the blue. Mr. Carlson called her into his office on a Friday afternoon for what she assumed would be them setting up a weekend spanking tryst, because all the work for the week was done. But the minute she entered his office she knew something different was up because he looked so upset, and not upset in an, I'm-going-to-paddle-your-bottom way. No, he looked scared.

  "I received this manila envelope this afternoon," he announced without preamble. She looked at the large envelope as she approached his desk, wondering where it had come from because she handled all his mail and she'd never seen it before. "It was in my locker," he said tersely, holding the fat envelope up with a shake. "In my private locker downstairs at the gym," he finished sharply.

  "How could ..." she started.

  He interrupted her. "You are not going to believe what is in here!"

  Dread started crawling down her sides. The only untoward thing either of them had to worry about was their illicit spanking and bondage sessions. "What is it? You’re scaring me.”

  "You should be scared.” His voice was sharp with the motion of tossing down what looked to be a photograph on top of his desk.

  Tess leaned forward, looking at the black and white picture he'd turned her way. "Oh no."

  She clasped her hands over her mouth as she rocked on her heels, looking down at a picture of herself tied over Mr. Carlson's desk chair with her thong-covered ass exposed as his hand lay against her buttocks. Caught in the motion of a spanking. Her cheeks instantly grew hot with embarrassment at the sexual nature of the picture. Her pussy was barely covered and her legs, kneeling on the chair, were slightly parted.

  Her gaze darted toward the doorway in the direction the picture had to be taken. "Where could that picture come from? How could it be taken?" she asked with a surreal, high voice.

  Mr. Carlson was shaking his head. "I have no idea. But there are at least twenty-five of them in here. Showing many different times when we were, ah ... engaged."

  "No," Tess whispered, thinking about anyone seeing those pictures of her — of them watching her so exposed. "Why?" she whined. She just couldn’t look at the rest of the pictures and see herself that way.

  "Blackmail," Mr. Carlson stated succinctly. "My marriage will be ruined over this!"

  Blackmail? The thought of it was so alien that its meaning didn’t fully set in Tess' mind, while her thoughts skipped to Mr. Carlson's claim he could lose his marriage.

  "That can't happen can it? We won't let that happen!" she exclaimed. "I will swear to your wife none of this was ever sexual ..."

  "After seeing these," Mr. Carlson barked. "No one will believe that."

  "Who could do this? What could they want?" she asked with an anxious, high-pitched voice.

  Mr. Carlson said nothing. He just looked at her very intently, then he handed her a note, obviously from the packet. Her hand shook as she took it from him to read.

  "These will be given to your wife unless the naughty girl comes to me alone, to get spanked, tonight at six pm in the eighth floor break room."

  Tess nearly dropped the note, instead clutching it so hard it crumpled in her fingers. Someone else wanted to spank her? A stranger. A blackmailer. On one side she was afraid, but the other more complicated side of her was hot. Instantly slick ... panties wet ... hot. Oh God. How could she?

  "No one is up on t-the eighth floor, it's under remodel," she stuttered.

  "My wife will never believe me," Mr. Carlson stated, looking trapped. "My kids," he uttered.

  He wanted her to do it! And Tess felt horrible about his wife and kids, but what stuck in her mind was about what people would think of her if those pictures got out. She would lose her job. No one would want to hire her. She was blackmailed too.

  They both said at the same time. "I can't let you do this," he said. And she said, "I have to do this."

  In the end, her decision won. Then after a nerve-wracking hour wait, it was quarter to six and time for her to go upstairs. Normally they'd both be gone by then, and all but one or two late workers were in the main office. Mr. Carlson was determined to stay and wait to see that she was all right.

  "Here give him this note from me," Mr. Carlson said, thrusting it toward her as they stood outside the elevators. "If you are not back here or have not called me by seven, I'm calling 9-1-1. Blast the circumstances," he declared.

  Tess looked up at him feeling braver than she’d been feeling, having him in her corner. She took the note, saying, "If it's just a spanking, I don't mind so much."

  She blushed and she pushed the elevator button. Once inside the elevator she tried to calm her pounding heartbeat by reading the note. "I won't hesitate to call the police if anything but a spanking happens to Miss Brown. I have my finger on the number and I will call 9-1-1 at one minute after seven if she's not back in good shape."

  "Wow," Tess whispered, awed that Mr. Carlson would be so forceful on her behalf. He had so much to lose. They both had. "So I better make this work," she muttered.

  Then the elevator dinged the eighth floor and the doors swooshed open. She tottered on her black three-inch heels. At least she'd worn her more serviceable long pencil skirt that day. But it was what she had on underneath that made her anxious.

  For weeks now ... since the spankings had begun she'd been wearing skimpier, and well frankly sluttier, underthings. Today she had on an extremely tiny pink thong with a bow on the back of it, black stockings, and a ruffled garter belt. On top she wore a pink-studded bra-lette that barely covered her nipples much less her breasts.

  Tess nibbled on her bottom lip as she hesitantly left the elevator. She’d convinced herself that she shouldn't have to worry about what she had on underneath her clothes or she was going to push the speed dial button on her Blackberry, set to 9-1-1, which she had slipped under the waistband of her skirt. It was all so unreal, but the fact she was walking toward another man who was going to spank her was slowly making her pussy throb harder with each step she took.

  What would the man be like? Young? Older? Handsome ...

  "You need a date too bad," she muttered under her breath, and she stalled at the door to the break room.

  Her hand nervously straightened her long ponytail over her shoulder, and then she checked the position of her hidden Blackberry. She was thinking of backing away and not going in. She was so keyed up with different emotions that she took one step backward, away from the door

  "Don't turn around!" a deep male voice snapped behind her.

  Tess winced, turning her head with the natural instincts to look. She felt a large pr
esence behind her and suddenly a hand was covering her eyes. "Don't," the voice hissed. "Look."

  She squealed in fright, immediately beginning to struggle, but a muscled arm came across her much smaller waist.

  "So you want me to walk up to your boss' wife and give her those pictures? Or e-mail them to everyone in your office."

  Tess struggled less and less with each word the man spoke, until she just stood and trembled in his hold. "No, please." Her voice was small, and then she added with a quiver, "Don't hurt me."

  "I plan to have fun with you, Miss Brown. No hurt unless a bottom spanked red is hurt?"

  She hated herself, but she did like his tenor voice. A lot. And she could feel his toned and muscular build against her. Some of her fear dissipated with his assurance he was out for fun. "Why can't I see you?"

  "Well, Miss Brown," he said nudging her forward. She felt his arm move from her waist and she heard a door open. The break room, she guessed. "Doesn't this just add to the excitement?" he countered with his breath warm against her ear, making her shiver. He sounded so male.

  "What are you going to do to me?" she whispered, sounding more vulnerable than she'd like.

  She felt him reaching forward and a moment later something fluttered against the top of her head. "I'm putting this on you so I can take my hand away."

  Some type of furry blindfold cover her eyes. She guessed it was like a sleeping mask and she itched with the desire to pull up the blindfold and look at her sexy sounding blackmailer. But he guessed her thoughts, or was ready, because his hands folded around her wrists as he stood very close behind her.

  "You're going to do what I say, Miss Brown, and we are going to get along just fine."

  He'd answered her question from before, while he held her wrists firmly at her side and she wasn’t surprised to be panting lightly. Her entire body felt warm and tingly.

  "I have a note!" She’d suddenly remembered.

  "This one?"

  She felt his big hand loosen on her wrist, then after a moment she heard his deep chuckle and his warm hand returned. "You better not go too far with this, Mr. Blackmailer," she warned, however it lost a lot of its power, because her voice wavered.

  "Duly noted, ma'am," he murmured against her ear. "But I think he doesn't give you everything that smoking hot body of yours needs."

  Her emotions vied between melting and intense curiosity about who he was. Ma'am? Just his deep voice drawling that word made her knees weak, besides his appreciation of her assets. What did he mean that she didn’t get everything she needed?

  "You like being tied up," he drawled lowly, heating her ear.

  Oh no. "N-No," she stuttered. "You can't do that now. I don't like it! Mr. Carlson makes me." Oh damn that did not sound right.

  "I insist."

  Tess did begin to think about struggling, but it was already too late. He was strong, Mr. Blackmailer, and he had her wrists bound in front of her, in seconds, with what felt like a thick rope.

  "Please don't tie me up," she panted.

  His answer; he tugged her wrists over her head. "Does your boss know how you rub your wet pussy after each whipping, Miss Brown? I have pictures of that too."

  Tess gasped, and then it seemed as if her wrists stayed above her head. Was she hung like this? She twisted her wrists. Yes she was!

  "You can't show him!" she exclaimed, while she tried to stay up on her tiptoes and not lose her high heels in the battle. She tugged on her wrists heaving with fear and ridiculously with excitement. Her pussy throbbed and her entire body flushed with arousal. What would he do with her?

  "I won't show your boss those pictures if ..." His voice was hot against her ear as his big hands gripped her waist pulling her hips backward slightly, which bent her forward more. Perfect for spanking her, while she hung unable to stop him.

  "If?" She was panting now with shivers running over her skin. She'd never felt so electrified.

  "You let me see your tits, while I spank your naughty ass."

  "Oh god," she moaned unable to stop the wanton sound.

  "I take that as a yes."

  "Oh n-no!" she exclaimed, then she stuttered, "Please, I-I ..."

  "It's an easy decision, Miss Brown, either you let me open your blouse and bare your tits or I give these pictures I have of you here ... let's see what I have. Here is one of you on your hands and knees rubbing your pussy with your thong pulled down to your knees. Ah, you are on the floor of your boss' office."

  "No!" Tess squealed, fighting the ropes tied around her wrists. He had pictures of that. Oh my god no, no, no! She'd die of embarrassment if anyone in her office saw those. "Yes! Yes, look at my breasts but give me those pictures! You cannot show those pictures to anyone."

  "It's a deal then," he proclaimed, and she felt the length of his strong body pressing into her body from behind. Then his warm hands cupped her breasts over her silk blouse. It felt as if her breasts just leaped into his hands. She could feel his hard erection pressing into her bottom. Mr. Blackmailer had a big hard on!

  "God." Mr. Blackmailer nearly groaned. "Perfect," he uttered.

  Tess felt an extraordinary feeling washing over her. It was pride mixed with hot arousal and tinged with fear. It was a very heady combination and she barely caught back a moan. It was dawning on her that Mr. Blackmailer intended much more than Mr. Carlson had ever done. Then all intelligent thought left her as he squeezed her breasts and her nipples hardened, while he pressed the impression of his rigid cock into her behind.

  "I knew you'd be hot ... but not this hot," he muttered against her ear. Then she felt his fingers working at the buttons on her blouse.

  Her wrists twisted against the ropes with the need to cover herself. She'd just remembered ... "My bra," she squeaked.

  "Is barely there, you naughty little slut."

  The more she twisted and wiggled on her heels the more she undulated her bottom against Mr. Blackmailer's stiff erection.

  "It's only covering your nipples," he uttered. "I've got to see this."

  Embarrassment flushed her cheeks to hotness as she felt him moving from behind her and cool air began to stream over her chest. She could feel his fingers tugging the tail of her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt. Then a clacking sounded on the floor as though something had dropped onto it.

  "What's this? Ah ... Miss Brown, you've been very bad bringing this Blackberry hidden like that." Blackberry. Oh no it fell out! "I think I am going to have to teach you not to do that again."

  "I won't, I swear," she found herself pleading to his non-committal chuckle.

  "Damn, I nearly hate to take this thing you call a bra off, Miss Brown."

  "Well you shouldn't," she said, feeling her nipple tips grow tight. He must be looking right at her. Suddenly a click sounded. "What is that?"

  "Pictures, Miss Brown."

  "You are taking pictures of me like this?" she exclaimed, so upset she tottered on her heels and fell off them. It left her hanging more on her wrists, until she got back on her tippy toes. And all the while she heard the clicking of a camera.

  Chapter Five

  Mike Sharp was having a hard time containing his cock, while looking at Tess Brown tied up with her hands over her head and her white silk blouse pulled open. The thing she called a bra was like two pink postage stamps trying to cover her big nipples. Big and hard nipples. He'd seen more explicit pictures of her. The incriminating ones captured by hidden security cameras he'd placed all over Benchcroft Media.

  Being head of security had its perks. But never like this before. He had pictures of her wet pussyopen and pointed right at one of the clandestine cameras as she rubbed her pussy off. The CEO, Mr. Carlson, knew nothing about the "extra" cameras. It was all the boards doing. They wanted godlike oversight. Because of it he'd fallen into this wet dream. Something that no one knew about but him.

  And boy-o-boy was Tess Brown better in person half-dressed than any photo of her raunchy naked. Her tits were natural and overf
lowing C cups. The cleavage was saluting his cock. Her waist was trim and her ass, well it was plump and spank-able all tied up in a long tight skirt. A skirt he had every intention of raising so he could see the goods.

  Right at the moment she was shaking her fuck-me body with jiggles and undulations as she tugged on her bound wrists, while her chocolate-brown hair swirled down her back.

  "Yeah, baby," he said. He set his camera aside and rubbed the ridge of his cock once beneath his work pants. "How does it feel to have your picture taken, all tied up and half naked? Maybe I will share these pictures with some of my buddies."

  "No!" Tess squealed, nearly making him laugh. He was certain that the lady doth protest too much. Her nipples were hard and she was squirming her thighs together. He knew her pussywas hot. Maybe it was part of the game ... pretending she didn’t want it.

  "Better be good then," he advised as he reached his hands forward.

  He hooked his fingers under the small triangles of her bra, instantly feeling her fat hard nipple tips, and then he popped the tiny cups up and off her tits. The bra stretched under her armpits, while her sleek belly concaved as she sucked in a deep breath. He could see her quivering as he stood back admiring all that was his to play dirty with.

  Damn. Her breasts were lifted upward with the tips tight brown buds. He knew she had on a slut garter belt and hose under her skirt from surveillance, he just wondered how small her thong might be. Enough to see her pubic hair, he bet.

  Once more, Mike basted his hand over his cock, and then he stepped back and to the side of his captured pussy. "Now, Miss Brown, you are going to learn exactly what I expect of you," he said with a severe voice.

  "Expect?" she cried obviously overwrought.

  "You didn't think this would be the only time, did you, Miss Brown?"

  "Yes! You cannot think I will ever come back here."

  "Oh, but I do," he said, lifting his knee, until it connected with her tummy. Then he pushed up tilting her plump ass upward. "And you will," he uttered, right before he smacked her ass with his open palm.