Seven Days of Service

Seven Days of Service - Day Five

Seven Days of Service – Day Five

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         Friday morning came around slowly, as the time on my office clock seemed to have stood still. After my third cup of coffee, my office door finally swung open, and with relief I noted that it was 10:00 a.m. I watched Cathy turn and lock the office door before walking to the front of my desk. Her collar was prominently displayed, as instructed. As in other mornings this week, she unbuttoned her blouse to expose her naked tits. Then, taking the hem of her skirt in her hands raised it to expose her bare pussy to me. She was about to drop her skirt when a thought seemed to cross her mind.

         Taking a deep breath, she made her way around my desk to take a place just in front of me. She still had her skirt raised and she was within my reach. As I reached over to touch her, she took in another deep breath and moved her feet slightly apart. Her face was red, whether from embarrassment or arousal I couldn’t tell, but no matter, I had to taste her once more. She knew what I wanted.

         As before, I scratched my fingers through her pubic hair before slipping my fingers across her very wet cunt. As she watched my face intently, I brought my fingers to my mouth and deliberately made a display of cleaning them with my tongue. Once I finished my little show, I told her to button up, but to return to my office at 2:00 p.m. for a discussion on project management.

         Watching her leave my office, I wondered if I had enough time left to persuade her to fully enlist her staff resources, rather than compete with them. This wasn’t rocket science, I thought, but her obsessive drive to prove something to her father was sure to derail her in the near future. All that beauty—all those brains—God, what a waste!

         I was going to take two chances today; big chances. Time was running out for me—for us. My first big chance with Cathy would take place at 2:00 p.m.; my second would take place this evening. I began to dread the end of this week of service, mostly because of the changes that had taken place in me. Is the bondage game the ultimate in pride and macho bullshit, I wondered?

         As tough as I tried to appear to her, it was obvious to me that she was becoming too integral a part of my life. What she was giving me, however reluctantly, I needed. Badly! Her responses as she gave into my demands only encouraged me to continue, driving the hook in deeper—into both of us.

         The afternoon went by rather quickly as I was caught up in the details of my project. I called Robert and arranged for a status meeting Sunday afternoon at the Harbor Bar. I told him I had some information on his new endeavor that might make him happy, but nothing else. I also spoke to the project leaders in my group and invited them to a Saturday afternoon get together at my house for a little celebratory barbeque.

         Before I knew it, 2:00 p.m. was displayed on my office clock, and Cathy came strolling in, closing, but not locking my door. As she approached my desk, I motioned her to the conference table near the windows looking out over the city. Sometimes it’s great to be the big kid on the block; an office with a view in this company was a special treat.

          “Have you given any further thought about the contributions of your marketing staff since yesterday?” I asked.

         She sat across from me, wringing her hands, her eyes on the table. Finally she said, “I’ll try Sir, but it’s not easy to display weakness in front of these people.” Her hand crept up to her collar and rubbed it, almost as one might rub a talisman. “I know they’re smart, really smart and it scares me sometimes. When I started in this company a few years ago, I used to let them ramble on, but before long they took over the entire meeting, pushing me around. I couldn’t have that. So I decided to keep them under control at all costs.”

          “You strangled them Cathy,” I replied. “You blocked any way they could have given you information that you might’ve used to make an informed decision. Your authority as manager gives you all the power you need to make the final decision at the end of the meeting. Just set the ground rules at the beginning, and exercise your right at the end, just like we did yesterday.”

          “Look, I sure don’t know everything—sometimes I wonder if I know anything at all. But I keep all my options open for input. Even Hattie, who you met the other night—uneducated in the conventional sense–has so much more “people” knowledge than I do, that I’d almost classify her as a National Treasure. Respect is earned. I’ve found that the longer I kept my mouth shut, the less folks around me know how fucking stupid I could really be.” As I said the last, I smiled.

         I could see that she was mulling all this around in her head, but I really had no idea what direction it was going. I could only hope for the best. I really didn’t want her to get hurt, and I was really interested to see what she could do once she got past the crazy shit that she was dealing with inside her head. As if the stuff that was thrashing around inside my head wasn’t crazy as well.

         While she was thinking, I took the envelope that Robert had passed to me the other night and pushed it across the table at Cathy. “Take a look at these specs, Cathy, and tell me what you think about the project. This is a ‘freebie’ from me, but only if you can convince me that you have some realistic concept of teamwork. It’ll land you back into your own department, answerable only to the idiots upstairs, and your client. Bring it and your observations with you when you drop by this evening.”

          “By the way,” I added, “I expect dinner as usual this evening, conditions the same.”

         The rest of my day went by uneventfully and I soon found myself at home getting myself ready for my visitor. I checked the instruments that I’d already used with Cathy, and made sure that they were on the end table in plain view. The new gadget I left in its bag, awaiting trial this evening. I was a little amazed that Hattie suggested this one, and it gave me a whole new perspective on her and her experience.

         Right on schedule, Cathy showed up at my door with the large envelope in her hand, and once I’d let her in, she started for the kitchen, taking her clothing off as she went. This was a sight I’d never get tired of, I thought. Placing the envelope on the kitchen table, she donned her apron and began her culinary routine. There was no pretense of modesty and she even seemed to glow a bit in under my careful scrutiny.

         If all this went away after tonight, I wanted to make sure that I had some wonderful memories to take with me. Her collar had become a part of her now and I watched as she occasionally reached up and touched it, as if she needed some kind of reassurance that it was still there.

         When she completed her cooking, I went into the dining room and sat down for the meal. It was absolutely delicious as usual. I complemented her on the dinner and returned to the living room to await her arrival as had become our custom. As I sat there, I couldn’t help but consider the fact that after tonight, that we were only two days away from the end of the service period.

         Before long she strolled in, two longnecks in one hand, the envelope in the other. As before she offered me one of the brews and took a long pull on hers. She might have thought she might need the extra courage tonight, as she stood in front of me. Glancing to the end table and the items resting there, she again gave me a questioning look. I pointed to the envelope in her hand and motioned for her to place it on the end table with the instruments for tonight’s session.

         Once done, she reached out and brushed her hand along the horsehair whisk, curiously. Then straightening up, she stood before me once again. Naked and vulnerable, she looked like all my adolescent wet dreams rolled into one. I watched as she slowly took a half step closer to me and moved her feet apart. Not one to decline an invitation like this, I reached my hand to her sex, passing my fingers through her very wet pussy once more.

         I could see that this was becoming a ritual, not only for me but for her as well. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as I touched her, and when I brought my fingers to my mouth to taste her again, she was looking directly into my eyes. She looked—satisfied.

         Standing, I reached down to the blindfold and placed it over her eyes

         The mantra began, “Cathy, Do you trust me?”

         She softly whispered, “Yes.” I reached down and picked the handcuffs from the table, and pulled her arms around to her backside.

         Once I’d secured her arms I continued, “Who do you belong to right now? “

         She lowered her head and said, “You, Sir.”

         To help set the mood, I reached out and cupped her breasts in my hands; those lovely, lovely breasts. Tweaking her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, I was greeted by those moans of hers that never failed to cause a tightening in my groin.

         Leaning my head into her chest, I caught one of her nipples between my teeth, and nipped it until she yelped out in surprise. Always one for balance, I then applied the same attention to her other nipple again until she gave me the expected response. I just loved tasting this woman.

         I straightened up, and leaning into the side of her face, I nibbled on her earlobe, breathing into her ear. I could feel her shiver and shake as the warms puffs of my breath beat against her face. Moving back to the front of her face, I playfully nipped her on the nose, then lowered my mouth to within an inch of hers. Leaning in I opened my mouth and took her lower lip between my teeth, gently sucking it into my mouth.

         This was as close to an actual kiss that we’d ever come to before, but I wanted this woman to know that all of her belonged to me tonight. Rubbing my tongue across her teeth, I then pushed it into her mouth which I found surprisingly easy. Touch, taste and complete control—it didn’t get much better than this I thought.

         Backing away, I picked up the horsehair whisk and asked her a work-related question, taking her completely by surprise. “So Cathy, tell me what you’ve decided about your staff in relation to the project that I passed on to you.”

         Stunned, she didn’t say anything. Apparently she had gotten into that groove that prepared her for a sexual adventure and the sudden change in direction threw her off guard. To get her attention once more, I flicked the whisk across her left nipple, causing her to jump. Before she could respond, I snapped it against her right nipple as well.

         Shaking a bit, she blurted out, “I think I can do what you suggested with them, but I want you to sit in on the first meeting with me.” Good answer I thought. I needed to get a firmer commitment from her though, before I turned the project over to her.

         I lightly flicked the whisk back and forth across her tits for a bit, then I moved it down to her tummy, and further down to the insides of her upper thighs. She squirmed sensuously, at least in my eyes, as she tried to move away from the strokes of the horsehair. Moving around to her rear, I began swishing it across her back and down to her beautiful ass cheeks. Her skin was beginning to take on a rosy hue, and I could tell from her groaning that the itching and prickling was beginning to intensify, causing her some sexual discomfort.

         Why sexual? As I watched her body, I couldn’t help but notice that the secretions between her thighs had increased exponentially as I moved the whisk across her body, now beginning to run into the creases of her pussy and forming droplets in her pubic hair. The strong musky aroma of her arousal was also reaching out to me, drawing me further into this game of ours.

         Finally, I remembered the last little device that I’d picked up for this occasion, and brought it out of its bag. Holding it in front of me, I had to shake my head and wonder what in the world old Hattie was thinking when she suggested the use of this. Examining the tweezer-like ends, I took note of the little rubber pads that covered the tips, and the fairly heavy chain that joined them together. A small sleeve on each end allowed the user to increase or decrease the pressure of the tweezers by sliding them up or down.

         Hattie had assured me that the discomfort should be no worse than a pair of clip-on earrings, depending on how tightly the sleeve was affixed. Ok, I only had her word to go on, but it made some sense to me now.

         She’d remarked that she’d considered raising the temperature of the bar a bit once she noticed that Cathy’s nipples had made a visible protrusion from her blouse on her visit to the bar, but decided instead that it was a sensitivity issue. This device was a compliment to that sensitivity she said.

         As I took hold of her left breast, I felt her let out a sigh of relief because the fondling eased some of the uncomfortable sensations she was experiencing from the visit of the whisk. Taking her nipple in my fingers, I tweaked it once more, teasing a moan from her lips. Then I took the first nipple clamp and placed it on either side of the target. Sliding the sleeve up the length of the device, I tightened it enough to stay attached to her nipple.

         Confused for a moment, Cathy finally figured out what I’d done and began moving her torso back and forth to avoid the next step. Slapping her right tit with the whisk, I told her to hold still. She did so, but began breathing in gasps.

         To calm her, I leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead. Then I made sure once again that she remembered the safe words that I’d given her at the beginning of this whole thing. She did, and wasn’t ready to say them—yet. As I caressed her right breast, she seemed to settle down a bit.

         Without giving her a lot of time to think about what was happening, I suddenly secured the other end of the device to her right nipple, ensuring that it was only tight enough to remain in place. Stepping back, I examined my handiwork.

         Both of her nipples were securely trapped within the pincers of the nipple clamps, and the chain hanging from them pulled her breasts down a bit, probably causing her some additional sexual tension. As she shook her torso to escape the sensation, she only increased the tension on them. Finally she stood still, but the previous effects of the whisk on other parts of her body began to demand her attention.

         If I was going to truly possess this woman—entirely—I was going to have to make my move tonight. Saturday and Sunday were too filled with other activities to concentrate on to go in for the “Home Run.” I decided to let my instruments do their job, plus my appeal to her sense of business process.

         As I just stood there, trying to get my head around all of this, Cathy suddenly gave me my answer. Almost choking out the words, she asked, “Sir, c-could you taste me—please?” Her squirming told me the desperation in her voice was not fake, that she’d passed that mental barrier that kept her sense of personal control in check. She was begging.

         I attached the chain into her collar once more, and instructed her to kneel on my carpet, facing away from me. This she did very quickly, hoping for some immediate release from me. I further instructed her to place her head on the floor and her ass in the air. She did this quickly as well. I dropped behind her and gently separated her thighs, causing her to blatantly expose all of her treasures to me. Dipping my head, I further spread her ass cheeks and began to feast from her open pussy.

         Reaching under her to fondle her breasts, I ran into the chain connecting them, swinging gently in response to her body’s movements. She was groaning now in earnest, her voice sending urgent messages to my cock, now in full response mode to my sexual adventure. Tugging on it carefully, I was surprised to hear Cathy groan out a breathy, “Oh god, yes.” Apparently, old Hattie had read her right, I thought.

         Flicking my tongue across her clitoris and moving up to dip it into her little tan asshole, I very nearly completed Cathy’s pathway to heaven on the spot—but I finally got smart. I stopped, stood up and removed my clothing. She began to groan again, this time in frustration. Kneeling back down behind her, I gently rubbed my fingers through her sex once more, assuring her that I hadn’t abandoned her.

         Still kneeling behind her, I softly scratched my fingers over her ass and her inner thighs, helping to relieve some of the stress that she was feeling right now, but I left her cunt alone. I had my target in sight now, and I lined up my cockhead to her inflamed center. The only thing left was her demand for me to enter her body, and I waited.

          “Sir, please don’t stop.” She begged. “I’m yours, you can taste me all you want. Anything! Just don’t stop.” She continued. I moved a bit closer to her, and allowed my cock to come into contact with her bound hands.

          “Do you remember my little itch, Cathy?” I asked her.

         As she frantically examined my cock and balls, she nodded her head, saying, “Yes, yes, but I need relief now. I’m about to go crazy.”

          “I know a way that we can both scratch our itch at the same time, and we won’t have to wait turns. Kind’a like teamwork; together—understand?” Now Cathy might be a lot of things, but she sure wasn’t stupid, and the implication of what I’d just said to her became apparent because of her sudden silence. I could almost ‘hear’ her evaluating the consequences of completely giving in to me now and I held my breath waiting for her reply.

         If there was ever a time for her to use one of her safe words, it was now, but she didn’t. This game was full of surprises, I thought.

         Finally though, her body made the final decision, as the urgency of her body to get relief from the effects of the horsehair whisk prompted her into saying, “Anything, anything! I belong to you; do whatever you want to me, but make this torment go away!” Not specific enough, I thought. My next question to her should get me the response I needed to put all doubts to rest.

          “Tell me, Cathy, exactly what it is that you want me to do.” I prompted her. I backed away pulling my fevered cock from her hands. The longer I waited, the more agitated she became, until finally she sputtered out, “Fff. . . Ok, Fuck me then . . .! Just do it hard, and don’t stop.”

         From that moment on, I felt that our relationship had slipped into a new dimension—perhaps much darker. Not wasting any more time I plunged my hungry cock into her cunt, bottoming out against her cervix. There was no turning back now, I knew.

         Hearing her grunt as I reached bottom, I began pounding into her body, over and over in a tremendous release of sexual energy. Her vocalizations turned into expressions of, “Oh, oh, oh, yeah!” in a continuous litany.

         Watching her face being driven into my carpet, I decided to release her handcuffs so that she could brace herself against my onslaught. I wasn’t without some consideration for her helplessness. She immediately brought her hands around her head to the floor, and used them to help push her ass into my thrusts, matching me stroke for stroke.

         It seemed that our competiveness had come full cycle, but now transformed into a contest to bring the other to bay. Her preparation for this session was her downfall, however. The intense sensations caused by the horsehair whisk had screamed for a release and would not be denied.

         Very soon, I felt her tense up, trembling, and prepared myself for her release. She slipped into a deep shudder and I felt her vaginal muscles clamp down on my cock. Bucking back against me, she briefly trapped me between her thighs as she slipped into a rather powerful climax, but I rode her out until she stopped, panting to catch her breath. I was amazed; not at her but at the fact that I hadn’t even had time to achieve my own orgasm.

         My cock was still deeply embedded in her body, firmly encased in her warm vaginal walls, not so patiently waiting for me to take it on another trip.

         I heard her say something under her breath, but I couldn’t make out what it was. “Cathy, are you all right?” I asked. She might have muttered one of the safe words, and I didn’t want to move beyond them if she had.

         Louder now, she said, “I’m sorry, Sir. I know I didn’t—scratch—your itch.”

          “You can fix that, though; can’t you?” I responded.

          “Yes, Sir,” she answered. “Please, I belong to you now; whatever you want from me.”

         I slowly rolled her over onto her back, spread her legs and bent them back towards her shoulders. There was no resistance this time. Her lovely sex was completely exposed to me now, and I fully intended to claim my prize. She still couldn’t see, but there had to be no doubt what was about to happen to her in her mind.

         I lined my cock up on her center, and sank it quickly into her cunt, reaching bottom in an instant. She responded with a loud gasp, which only inflamed me further. I quickly resumed the pace that I’d set while fucking her from behind and was gratified to hear her sounds of passion and arousal begin once more.

         Watching the chain connecting her lovely breasts sliding back and forth on her chest as I pushed her body back and forth across the floor, I decided to focus on touching her tits once more.

         I slid my hands up her body until I reached the chain. When I bumped into it, I reached underneath it to grasp each tit in my hands, massaging them without disturbing the pincers that held her nipples in captivity.

         She increased her moans and grunts as I continued my drive into her body, but suddenly, she reached up with her now free hands, grasped the chain and jerked it from her breasts.

         Her sudden intake of air told me that she hadn’t anticipated the pain that would accompany that action. Her next exclamation gave me conflicting messages regarding what she’d just done to herself. “Shit—oh my god—yes!” As soon as she uttered that comment, she grabbed my hands and pressed them to her nipples, urging me to fondle them, roughly. I suspected that the blood rushing back into her tender nipples had a lot to do with her reaction. Whatever, I thought—another opportunity—one I wasn’t about to pass up.

          Her hips were slamming into me now, matching me stroke for stroke and I soon felt that familiar warning in the base of my groin, signaling me that I was about to take this rocket to lift off. I was pleased to discover that Cathy had also begun the now familiar trembling in her body, slowly swelling into the shudder that warned me that she was preparing for takeoff as well. Her hands continued to crush mine into her tits and I simply allowed her to determine the level of punishment she was willing to endure. I was just happy with my hands on her breasts.

         Finally I reached my tipping point and began to pull out to spray my discharge over Cathy. Sensing what I was about to do, she shouted out, “NO! In me dammit; I want to feel you in me!” and grabbed the hair on each side of my head, pulling my lips into hers. Grunting into my mouth through her orgasm, she somehow still managed to thrust her tongue deep past my teeth, dueling with my tongue. My climax took place on schedule and I began pumping what felt like buckets of semen deep into her body.

         After we each came down from our mutual highs, we still appeared to be firmly welded to each other—by the hips—by the lips. Cathy was still chewing on my mouth and my semi-hard cock was only reluctantly leaving the warm, wet, seductive confines of her pussy.

         We’d passed through several barriers in our relationship this evening, and I still had not heard either of the safe words that I’d given Cathy to stop our game whenever she’d had enough. One thing was certain however, our lives were not going to be the same after tonight.

         Exhausted, I removed the blindfold from her eyes and finished removing the soft handcuffs, now uncoupled, from her wrists. I brought her to her feet, pointed her towards my bathroom and instructed her to freshen up, dress up and return to the living room to me.

         I pulled my shorts back up, and flopped back onto the couch trying to get my thoughts together. For the moment, I seemed to completely control one of the managers of our company with the most potential to become a superstar within our ranks.

         Hang ups? Yeah, big time, but nothing that couldn’t be worked out over time. She’d already come a long way and I wasn’t just talking about the sexual challenges that I’d thrown at her. That was simply for my satisfaction, I thought.

         Eventually she returned to the living room, and she was once more dressed in her usual sweatshirt and jeans. Standing in front of me, she waited for my instructions.

         I told her that we were going to be hosting a barbecue party for project leads here tomorrow and that she was going to be the hostess. Watching the frown cross her face, I quickly informed her that I expected her to be wearing a bikini bathing outfit and if she didn’t have one to make sure that she picked one up before arriving at noon.

         I figured that it would be suitable retaliation for her bragging early in the contest that she’d have me hosting a “girl’s night in” party, wearing nothing but a “ball-bag.”

         As she left I reminded her that she only had to tolerate this torment for two more days.

         Two more days, I thought to myself, and then my torment begins.

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"Seven Days of Service - Day Six"